#also her jealousy will eventually destroy her >:)

[anashins]

Five Times a Day

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: angst, romance, smut

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: After Jaehyun's ex drops the fact that they have once done it five times a day, you are eager to keep this record up.

A/N: Retroactive jealousy is real and this is me processing this problem. Maybe some of you can relate - remember: We're in this together and are stronger than our insecurities!

You sipped on your smoothie, barely listening to your friends who were excitedly talking across each other. Under usual circumstances, you would have been able to enjoy this gathering among you girls, but today… not at all. 

In fact, you were in a sulk. And it was all because of a guest from a past you had deemed forgotten already.

“By the way…” Said guest suddenly turned to you with a feigned, overly sweet smile. “How is Jaehyun?”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to look into the face of the girl who had just asked you this question. You had known she would eventually come up with this topic. After all, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, was her ex boyfriend. Justifiably his ex, though!

She had gone behind his back and cheated on him with his friend. It had been you who had mended his broken heart with no ulterior motives in the beginning, but after that cruel woman had moved away, it had evolved into something that the both of you had underestimated.

You had given him time, treated him with nothing other than patience and understanding, until one day, he had been able to move on with you who had no intention of hurting him in the same manner ever again.

“He’s perfectly fine, we’re so happy,” was your equally overly sweet reply.

Your best friend’s nudge into your side with her elbow pulled you out of your sulking attitude as she was silently begging you to get a grip of yourself. You just shrugged, reminding her that you had only tagged along because you were nosy and wanted to boast, and that you had no intention of being friendly. You just couldn’t have missed this opportunity to see how she was doing, no matter how much you resented her.

Jaehyun’s ex had been in your friend group back then and was now in the city for a few days, so everyone had accepted her invitation to meet up to reminisce about the old times - including you and your big ego. You slowly regretted it, even though you had only come to brag to her how much happier he was with you. It was just so exhausting to be fake-friendly.

But to prove to your best friend that you were ready to compromise, you added sharply with triumph in your voice, “We live together now.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” the ex’s voice echoed through the café as she clapped into her hands. “I also have a new boyfriend with whom I live with!”

The other girls congratulated her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so as well. All you could think of was whether that guy was also a poor soul she would soon destroy. That was until she mentioned something else that only you could probably hear.

“Now that we live together, we do it like five times a day.” She chuckled, lowered her voice and leaned in to you. “Jaehyun has been able to do just as much. Say, does he still live up to it? You must for sure know.”

You resented her so much.

____

First

You woke up way before Jaehyun when the sun shone right into your face as you had forgotten to pull the curtains together the night before.

It was almost 7 in the morning, and soon, your alarm would go off so that you would only see each other again later that evening when you came back home from work. You were determined to beat the clock before that would happen.

With much caution, you lifted the blanket and crawled under the duvet to Jaehyun’s side of the bed. He only groaned when you accidentally leaned on his shin, but you were still able to settle on his legs under the blanket without waking him up fully. 

You reached out your hand and stroked the small mound under his pajama bottoms. It didn’t take long for that mound to turn into a firm bulge and for Jaehyun to react to your stroking with his thighs moving against your palm.

You didn't know whether he was awake yet or not from under the covers, but you liked the thought of this exact uncertainty. To push this act further, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his bottoms and dragged the fabric downwards to the point where you could get a hold of his member and pull it out entirely.

Your fingers wrapped around Jaehyun’s length and you started moving them along his shaft until it stood nearly parallelly to his stomach. Sitting yourself up to be able to tug your own panties down, you shuffled forwards and guided his tip to your entrance.

When you slowly sank down onto him, you heard a loud moan from the other side of the blanket that was still covering you. Tight hands gripping onto your bum when you had taken him in fully, confirmed to you that your boyfriend was now awake - and ready for whatever was to come.

“Good morning,” you whispered, your head now peeking out from under the duvet.

Your boyfriend was still lying on his back with his eyes closed, but you still perceived his sensual and exciting expression as he licked over his lips and groggily fluttered his lids open.

With a grin, Jaehyun greeted you hoarsely, “‘morning.”

Your palms were placed flat onto his chest as the blanket slipped over your shoulders along your back and revealed your upper body that was only covered in your silken top. To Jaehyun, this was a sight he couldn’t get enough of, jolting him entirely awake now.

You put your weight on your forearms, just enough for you to lift your hips and come down at him again. Not much later, your moans filled the entire room, sunlight dancing across your skins on whichever part was currently in the right angle as you bobbed up and down on him.

Your back arched, your hair falling over your shoulder blades in long, silken streaks as the strands simultaneously moved to the rhythm you applied to Jaehyun’s groin. Not much later, your skin was glistening with sweat and you fell limply on your boyfriend’s chest as you had run out of strength.

Putting his arms around you, Jaehyun hurried you along until you bit into his shoulder to suppress your scream as you shook in his embrace. Shortly after, when you slowly calmed down, it was his turn. With his fingers entangled in your hair, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, faltering between every syllable as he came.

You had never doubted that Jaehyun loved you very much. You had been very sure that he loved you even more than when he was the happiest with his ex-girlfriend.

But now, you weren’t quite so sure anymore. 

Not even when he took his time and risked being late to work just to cuddle with you in the aftermath.

____

Second

“What are you doing here?”

Jaehyun looked at you with very much surprise from across his desk when you closed the door behind you. You had visited him a few times at his workplace already, to bring him food or quickly say hello when you had been in the neighborhood - but never with such an intention.

The fabric of your trenchcoat felt cold on your skin as you wore nothing underneath other than the lingerie that you had actually wanted to save for your anniversary celebration. But until then, you had decided, you would buy a new set and use this one for this certain occasion.

Jaehyun couldn’t believe his eyes when you opened the coat’s belt across your waist and flashed him the sexiest set of red underwear that he had hopefully ever seen in his life. You physically watched his jaw drop and him taking off and then putting on again his glasses just to make sure that what he was currently witnessing was, indeed, real.

“Today is not my birthday, right?” You saw him gulp as his Adam’s apple moved along his neck, and you had to suppress a chuckle catching him so off guard. “Then I must be dreaming.”

“You’re not,” you answered and approached him in your heels that were also new. “Today is just your lucky day.”

“Then can every day be my lucky day?”

When you stood right in front of him after he had come forward from his seat, you let the trenchcoat slide down your shoulders, revealing the new bra fully, and your boyfriend couldn’t take his eyes off of you once again. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered before his head disappeared between your breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then show me,” you challenged him. “Show me how much you want me. Right here and now.”

… and not her, you added silently in your mind, but pushed this intrusive thought right aside, because you wanted to live in this moment with Jaehyun and no one else.

“Very well,” he agreed and helped you take off the trenchcoat.

You were allowed to keep wearing your lingerie when Jaehyun grabbed you by your buttocks and placed your legs around either side of his hips just so that he could carry you. With one swift motion, he had turned you to his desk and kept you in place with one arm while the other reached out and threw everything in his reach from the desk onto the floor. 

Then, he placed you on the surface and parted your thighs with his hips. The moment he loosened his tie was the moment you lost it too, because, once again, it hit you out of nowhere how perfect your boyfriend was and that you actually shouldn’t care who had been with before and what he had done with that person.

Jaehyun was all yours when he slipped his fingers into your lace panties and pushed them into you to collect the fluids inside of you as you had gotten so wet already. He was all yours, when he dragged his hand along your folds and caused you to shudder with this motion only as they reached your clit. 

And he was also all yours when you couldn’t bear it for much longer and put your heels up on either side right on top of the desk to give him better access to enter you.

You were laying flat on the surface with your elbows propped up for support so that you could watch him thrust right into you. Jaehyun’s hair swung with each push and grew damp over time on the tips that touched his sweaty forehead. His fingers were still buried into your upper thighs so that no thrust would go astray, and when he looked up, you encountered this hungry look in his eyes.

He was long not done, and you only hoped that his short lunch break was enough for what he had still in store for you.

And as you were finally letting yourself go too, lying back down on the desk and moaning his name just loud enough to not to travel to the other offices, you wondered if he had done something like this before just by the way he knew what to do and how to enjoy it.

____

Third

You had set up a fancy dinner for Jaehyun later that evening. After having surprised him at his office, you had gone straight back to your own workplace and finished earlier to buy and prepare his favorite food.

By the time he was home, you had the appetizer and steak with side dishes ready, and even though you had been in a hurry to fix dinner, you were pretty impressed with how everything had turned out. After all, today, everything had to be perfect for this mission.

“Are you sure it’s not my birthday or another important date that I forgot about?”

Jaehyun raised a brow when he saw that you had set up the whole atmosphere with fancy crockery, cutlery and even lightened up candles. Usually, on weekdays, when you both had to work, you just threw something easy and light together and ate on the couch in front of the TV.

“Can’t I just do something nice for my boyfriend when I have the day off?”

“I mean… I’m not complaining. But this is the third nice thing you’re doing for me today. What did I do to deserve this?”

You put your hands around his neck and shook your head. “You’re just being you. Isn’t that enough.”

You got on your tiptoes to kiss him and were already looking forward to serving him dessert. And with “dessert” you didn’t mean ice cream or cake, because you had not prepared such. With “dessert” you meant having Jaehyun right under you at your mercy not even an hour later.

“Stop, stop!” Jaehyun breathed and stretched out his hand to gently lay it on the top of your head.

With a slurping sound, you let go of him and looked up to your boyfriend who was spread out on the couch underneath you. 

“You don’t like it?” you worried, because Jaehyun actually never said no to getting head. Again, you wondered what you did wrong and if he had ever said no to his ex. You bet not.

He cupped your face and softly pulled you up to him so that you were now hovering over his chest. “That’s not what I mean,” he grinned and kissed your smudged lips. “You did so much for me today, let me do something for you too.”

Not much later, you were a writhing, whiny mess, legs locked between Jaehyun’s head while he licked you like you were his literal dessert after this feast. You had cum twice in a row already and were thinking that if he wouldn’t stop now, you wouldn’t have much energy for the real deal soon.

“Already out of breath?” 

“Please… I just want you inside of me,” you begged.

“Very well.”

He took you on all fours from behind this time, fingers entangled in your hair and pulling you back every now and then to either kiss you or groan lewd words into your ear that made you blush slightly. In no way would one assume your boyfriend had this side to him if one were to meet him on the streets. 

How lucky you were. 

And other girls before that too, apparently.

But again, you pushed that thought aside when Jaehyun smacked your cheek and you let out a shriek that blended with your orgasm in the exact same moment. Pain and pleasure became indistinguishable, and that made it even more exciting as you experienced a high that only seldomly occurred. 

When you laid with your sweaty bodies chest to chest, you came to the conclusion that it probably truly didn’t matter what had ever been before you when the present was so beautiful. 

You didn’t want your insecurities to get the better of you, but your boyfriend was so perfect that you constantly wondered if one day, he would have enough of you if you couldn’t give the best like he deserved.

____

Fourth

“No.”

Your heart sank and you directly pulled your dressing gown close again. Underneath it, you wore a negligee that only rarely got put into use, but for the fourth time today, you wanted to present it to Jaehyun when he returned from the bathroom.

You only had two more times to go, you assumed you could get it done right now.

Your disappointment and shock were very visibly written all over your face though, and immediately, your boyfriend started to apologize.

“Look…” He seated himself next to you on the bed and looked at you with apologetic eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up over this! I really appreciate everything you did today, but it was a long day overall for me and I have to get up early again tomorrow. I just can’t keep up anymore today. It was great three times, but I’m physically at my end too and I really need to sleep soon.”

You didn’t want to say it. You truly didn’t. But your impulsive part had gotten the upper hand as all your feelings that you had been suppressing throughout the day boiled down to this one sentence,

“I bet you didn’t say that to your ex when you did it five times a day.”

For an unusually long time, Jaehyun stayed quiet and you feared that you had sabotaged your relationship at this point. 

“I knew there was something up with you,” he eventually said. “You shouldn’t have gone to that gathering, even though the other girls are still friends with her.”

“But I did, because I’m nosy and foolish.” You paused. “Are you mad now?”

“Yes.” Your heart dropped, but before you could defend yourself, Jaehyun continued, “I’m mad because you have let her confuse and make you question our relationship based on… what?”

Ruefully, you confessed, “She said that you had sex five times a day.” You sensed how he repressed laughter that was deeper than usual, so he wasn’t making fun. “What is it? Is it not true?”

Honestly, perhaps you should have asked Jaehyun before reacting blindly out of impulse, because after all, this cheating girl was a liar. But sadly, he dismissed your glimpse of hope.

“We did.” Jaehyun’s head dropped at the same moment as your heart. “This is true.”

“Oh…” 

You knew the person you should be angry at was yourself, not Jaehyun or his ex. You hadn’t been romantically involved at that time, it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with you. But you couldn’t help but to compare yourself to her over and over again. 

What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just switch this off? Why was there no button connected to your feelings?

Something warm suddenly touched your hand, and it was Jaehyun’s, taking yours into his. You didn’t dare to look up, that was how ashamed you felt for yourself. 

“It was only one time,” he started calmly. “There was a snowstorm outside, so it was dangerous for her to go home. She stayed an entire day and night, that was when it happened. And do you know why it happened?”

You shrugged. You were unsure whether you actually wanted to know all the details to feed your insecurities even more.

“Don’t worry, the answer won’t be as you expect.” Jaehyun squeezed your hands and continued with a patient, tender tone, “The reason wasn’t because I found her more beautiful or hotter than you. Believe me, you are the only one for me. I cannot even look at other women and not think ‘Wow, I got the most beautiful girl out of all the girls in the world. She’s so perfect, I’m so lucky!’” Your cheeks were burning, but you kept listening diligently. “The reason was because we literally had nothing to talk about.”

Now, you lifted your head and faced your boyfriend who encouragingly smiled at you. He was sincere, you saw it clearly in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that whenever we spent so much time with each other, we never had something to talk about. We had absolutely no common interests or topics of which we felt the need to engage in. The only attraction we had was a physical one, so when we were forced to stay with each other so long, there was nothing else that we could do.”

Jaehyun let go of your fingers and wrapped his hands around your waist instead to pull you into his warm lap, and you let him.

"Absolutely nothing?” you wanted to make sure. This indeed surprised you.

He chuckled ironically. “Yes, absolutely nothing.”

“But we always talk non stop.”

“I know.” You felt his full lips pressing into your cheek and smiled. “We are not only physically connected, but emotionally as well. Isn’t that beautiful? Do you know how much that is worth and that some people seek for a connection like ours an entire lifetime? I enjoy physical contact with you just as much as our conversations and laughter. There is no need to fill a void, because there is none in the first place.”

You had never thought that Jaehyun felt like that and it touched your heart very deeply. “When I heard her saying this, I was worried you would soon be bored with me if I couldn’t keep up.”

“No, don’t ever think that!” Jaehyun drew you close to his chest and you laid your head on his shoulder. “Our love came unexpectedly for each of us, and I think we both had to learn that the right love was calm and steady, not these highs and lows with many fights. This is how it’s supposed to be, don’t let it make you feel unsure because you’re not used to it too. We’re here now, we shouldn’t look back.”

Hearing this from him set your mind at ease. It made many things better that were here temporarily, but you were also aware that in order to fight any doubts you were holding against your relationship, you had to fight your inner demons first. 

It couldn’t be done in a day, but you would work hard, taking one step at a time and just believe in your boyfriend who assured you every day in many ways that his feelings were true and unwavering, no matter how big the demon had grown at this point. 

“I love you, Jaehyun.”

“Of course I love you too.” He chuckled. “You make me laugh, you defend me, you fight me, you challenge me, and whenever I’m at my wit’s end, you bring me back to life. This is worth so much more and there is no one else I can ever imagine being with again. To me, you’re perfect.”

“Funny,” you whispered as you felt him pressing a kiss onto your parting. “I always think that about you too.”

There was no need for a fourth or fifth time.

[guiltyreverie]

Hiya

Saw that you were looking for some request to help get you out of your block (I hate when that happens) so I was wondering if we could get a Zoro x F/GN reader with the prompt "Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd" The swordsman isn't as touchy as Luffy but I think he'd find a way to get that physical touch.

Thanks 🌴

Hey anon, thanks dear for the request 🫶🏻 I love this idea!! It has me all 🤭 giggling and kicking my feet. Also I hope you’re satisifed with this 🤍

Crappy Love Confessions

Pairing: Zoro x gn!reader

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, established relationship, Zoro thinks he’s being slick but you got him all figured out, slight insecurity/jealousy

Warnings: none, just fluff

Writing prompt: “Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd”

Summary: You arrive in a new town and you end up exploring it with your boyfriend by your side

A/N: I mostly wrote this in the middle of my lectures - I hope the person behind me had a blast reading this 😭 and ngl as much as I love grumpy men, they’re lowkey so hard to write (BUT I WELCOME THE CHALLENGE)

Word count: 1.5k

Loud chatter, salesmen shouting and advertising their products filled the air, the smell of various restaurants, children running about - the tunes of a new city filled your senses and you stare around in awe; almost every time it‘s the same deal and every single time you‘re still amazed by this feeling.

Luffy‘s hand met your back and finally pushed you off the boat. “Come on, y/n.“, he was drooling and you looked at him in amusement, “I smell meat!“ - he was already gone - a chuckle escaped your lips at the antics of your captain.

“Cutie-chan“, Sanji gasped dramatically and he grabbed your hands to check if you‘re alright, “are you-„

Zoro‘s grumble interrupted him and the both of them are about to butt heads again; you‘re ready to intervene and prevent the town from getting destroyed by these two but Nami was faster.

“Don‘t you guys have things to do.“, she pointedly stared at Sanji, since he was the one that needed supplies and ingredients for the next few weeks.

Sanji is about to make a flirty remark but stops himself when he sees Nami‘s glare, she pushes him off the deck and Zoro towards your direction, then proceeds to hum around about ‚not having too much fun‘ and your cheeks flush slightly; nonetheless you grin at her and shout back “no promises.“

Zoro looks at you, or well, more like scowls at you and if you didn‘t know any better you‘d think he was mad at you.

Your head tilts slightly to the right - inaudibly asking what‘s wrong.

“It‘s nothing“, he tenses up, and you can see something is bothering him in his eyes - now you could go about this in two ways, either you pester him and force him to tell you or you respect his boundaries and let it be.

You figured he‘d eventually tell you himself once he‘s comfortable enough and let it go, instead you focus on the rumbling town in front of you and smile and start walking, you knew Zoro would follow you either way so you don‘t bother calling out to him.

The both of you check out the shops, while you grab some utilities you also check out the snack vendors, all while Zoro is right behind you following every footstep and holding your bags for you on one arm and the other empty for, probably any worst case scenario he can imagine.

When you see a sword shop out of the corner of your eyes, you smile and turn towards him: “Do you want to check it out?“

He glances at you, then at the shop, he seems to contemplate it, overthink it even; you let out a sigh and step towards the shop: “Come on“, you nudge him, “it‘s at least worth checking out.“ and nudge him into the shop.

You stand beside him, observing him fondly while he checks everything out in deep concentration and gets anything he needs; when you’re ready to check out and leave the store you notice a small dagger - perfect to replace the one that broke recently.

You test out its feeling around your grip and its secureness and smile to yourself in satisfaction - you’ll get this one.

What you fail to notice is your boyfriend staring at you in admiration - for someone so kind you were deadly when threatened - in fact it’s the reason he was so drawn to you in the first place. All you needed was two little daggers and no one stood a chance against you, your bubbly self would disappear and it would almost seem like you had been replaced with the best assassin to walk the earth.

When you glance back at him satisfied with your choice, your breath halts for a moment; the way Zoro was looking at you right now? It almost made your face flush in embarrassment, his eyes were filled with endearment, admiration and something else you can’t pinpoint right now - he always had a hard time vocalizing his feelings for you but he didn’t have to, you always knew how much he cared for you without saying anything.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the butterflies in your stomach and smile at him: “You got everything?”

He keeps staring at you mesmerized: “yeah, i got everything I need.”, your face flushes slightly and the butterflies you tried to dissipate earlier come back, he didn’t mean just his sword supplies - not with the way he was staring at you.

“Alright.”, you nod and make your way to the cash register and pay up.

Zoro is already outside, leaning against the wall, while waiting for you, when you get out he promptly gets up and walks beside you, he seems to contemplate something, you were about to ask if there’s anything else he wants to check out when grasps your hand. Your face flushes when his large calloused hand wraps around your smaller softer one and you grin brightly - the warmth inside you only growing bigger and bigger.

He looks away, his voice slightly hoarser than before: “I can’t risk getting lost.”, you raise an eyebrow in amusement, his blushing ears clearly betraying his actual thoughts.

“Sure.”, you smirk clearly unconvinced by his reasoning.

Now the both of you walk together, your hands intertwined and you hum happily looking for your next destination.

The both of you walk around more until it’s late in the evening; your feet hurt from walking around all day and you decide to finally go back to the ship.

“Zoro”, you pout, the sting getting worse and worse.

He sighs slightly then proceeds to let go of your hand before he kneels down in front of you: “Hop on.”

The warm feeling in your chest, once again, consumes you - god you love him - you get on his back and wrap your arms around him while he grabs the back of your thighs and picks you up.

Fondly you kiss his cheek: “Thanks, dear.”

He ‘hmphs’ slightly and grumbles: “you’re too light, do you even eat?”

“Y’know I always finish Sanji’s food”, you grin, “you just lift abnormal weights.”

He tenses up slightly when you mention Sanji: “Don’t mention his name.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Sanji and him always fight but he usually didn’t react this badly at his name being mentioned; finally, it clicks in your head and you manage to connect the dots.

“Is this about this morning?”, you lean your head on his.

“I don’t like when he’s being close to you.”, he sighs.

You smile and hold him tighter: “I don’t care for him, in the same way I care for you. No amount of flirting from his side can change that.”

“It’s not that. I trust you, it’s just..”, he seems to gather his thoughts, trying to put them into words and you let him - he needs to realize just how important it is to let you in. His jaw tenses up and he clearly seems uncomfortable being vulnerable, even if it’s you he's talking to. “It just makes me think that I can never be as vocal as him; He doesn’t mind crappy love confessions or public affection.”

It takes you a few seconds to even process his words - was he insecure?

“Zoro”, you motion for him to let you go and you quickly step up before him, grasping his face, “I don’t want crappy love confessions or public affection or anything else, I want you.”

“Ok but what if me being me isn’t good enough at one point and you want to do better - you certainly can, if you want to.”, he looks at you, the uncertainty finally clear in his eyes and it pains you, leaves you wondering for how long he had been harboring such thoughts.

“No, fuck that, I don’t want better, because there is no better.”, you bite your lips slightly, “ for me? You’re the best pick, Zoro. I love you, the way you are and I want nothing more than for you to keep being yourself and it’s not going to change any time soon. You hear me?”, you hold his face once again and genuinely look at him, he needs to believe you, trust that you won’t leave him.

“I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?”, he smiles at you a little stunned.

You smile and shake your head: “No, not stupid. Human.”

He raises an eyebrow slightly at your choice of words but accepts it nonetheless. He kisses your forehead earnestly and once again kneels for you to get on his back.

You grin and hop on, hugging him tightly.

He clears his throat: “I love you, too, by the way.”, your grin brightens - and he says he isn’t the type for crappy love confessions.

Together you guys walk through the bustling town back to the ship, the warm sunset fitting the atmosphere inside your chest.

[blue-lotus333]

💕Goddesses of love💕

Aphrodite: Greek Goddess of love, beauty, sex and lust.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, emerged from the sea in a scallop shell and sailed to Cyprus. She possessed a magical girdle and had many lovers, including Ares and Adonis. Ares killed Adonis out of jealousy, leading to the creation of anemones. Adonis became a god split between the Underworld and Earth due to Aphrodite's love. She travels with the Three Graces and bestows joy, brilliance, and abundance upon mortals. She aids in romantic love and is associated with myrtles, roses, and anemones.

Freya: Norse Goddess of love, war, fertility and magic.

Freya, the Norse goddess of love and ruler of war and death. She mediated conflict between warring groups of Norse gods and established peace in Asgard. She is known for her beauty, sorcery, and sexuality, as well as for riding a cat-drawn golden chariot. Freya wears a falcon-feathered cloak that allows her to move quickly between heaven and Earth and has an enormous palace in Asgard where she celebrates with the souls she chooses from the battlefield. In one myth, she obtains the famous amber necklace, Brisingamen, from four dwarves by sleeping with them, beauty for beauty.

Oshun: African Goddess of love, beauty, prosperity & femininity.

Oshun is a goddess of love in the Yoruba religion. She is one of the 7 orishas and the source of power for all the other orishas. Oshun has the ability to make all things flow in the universe through her love and strength. She played a significant role in encouraging Ogun, father of civilization, to continue creating. Oshun is the only goddess who can carry messages between the mortal world and the Supreme Creator in heaven. In Nigeria, there is an annual ceremony called Ibo-Osun where women dance for Oshun during a feast of yams, with the best dancer winning Oshun's favor and becoming the village adviser on healing and fertility.

Parvati: Hindu Goddess of love, fertility, harmony and motherhood.

Parvati is a golden Hindu goddess known for love and devotion, forming a holy trinity with Saraswati and Lakshmi. She was born in the Himalayan mountains and embodies nurturing feminine energy. Parvati won over her husband, Shiva, through patience and determination in asceticism. Parvati is the creator of her son Ganesha, the elephant-headed god of wisdom. She is also worshiped for her strength and ferocity. In one legend, she transformed into the fearsome goddess Kali-ma to overcome & destroy demons who threaten the earth, showing her protective nature.

Guan yin: Buddhist Goddess of compassion, love, peace and kindness.

Guan Yin, originally a mortal princess named Miao Shan, was known for her compassion and kindness. Despite her father's cruelty, she devoted herself to helping others and performing miracles. After her death, she chose to remain in human form as a bodhisattva to help suffering beings, eventually becoming a goddess. By simply invoking her name, people can receive protection from harm. Guan Yin is often depicted in a white gown on a lotus throne and is revered by her followers as a symbol of love, compassion & purity. Her devotees often follow her vegetarian diet on her sacred days. Guan yin is not only the goddess of compassion, but the literal personification of it.

Hathor: Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, womanhood and the sky.

Hathor, ancient Egyptian goddess of love and joy, has been revered for over 3,000 years. Known as the Gentle Cow of Heaven, she provided milk to the Sun God Ra, making him and other pharaohs divine. Hathor created the Milky Way and is often depicted wearing a crown with cow horns. She is worshipped through joyful ceremonies of music and dance and is the most beloved goddess in ancient Egyptian belief. Hathor is also the goddess of the Underworld, protector of females, and champion of romantic bonds. She can appear in different forms and her symbols are the sistrum and hand mirror.

Laka: Hawaiian Goddess of love, wilderness, the hula & music.

Laka is a Polynesian goddess of love and wilderness who taught humans the art of the hula dance. She is married to the fertility god Lono, and rain is considered a sacred time for them. Dancers in training build altars to Laka with her favorite flowers and plants, and offerings are taken down to the ocean after performances to thank her for her blessing. She is a Goddess who rules over all vegetation. Plants sacred to her are: maile, Lama, hala pepe, `ie`ie, ki, `ôhia lehua, `ôhelo, and palai.

Aine: Irish Goddess of the summer, love, wealth and light.

Áine is a powerful and loving fairy queen in Irish legend, associated with agriculture, animals, and light. She is celebrated at the Midsummer Festival in Limerick, where people run up her hill to seek her blessing. She is also a survivor of sexual abuse in legends, where she shows strength and guides women to empowerment. Áine is depicted with red hair, a headband of stars, and surrounded by her animals. She can transform into a red mare who is unbeatable in speed.

Xochiquetzal: Aztec Goddess of fertility, beauty, flowers and love.

Xochiquetzal was a powerful and complex Aztec goddess known for her beauty and seductive nature. She was worshipped as a patroness of lovers and prostitutes, encouraging love-making for pleasure rather than reproduction. Despite her associations with sexual relationships, she also had the ability to absolve humans of sins unrelated to sex. She was married to the water god, Tlaloc, and was considered a consort to the creator deity, Tezcatlipoca. Xochiquetzal was widely worshipped and honored through great rituals that included acts of sacrifice and confessions.

Ishtar: Mesopotamian Goddess of love, war, fertility and power.

One of the oldest goddesses in the world, Ishtar, the goddess of war and sexual love, was the queen of heaven. Ishtar is considered a member of the special class of Mesopotamian gods called the Anunnaki. Ishtar is often called Inanna, she is also an astral deity, linked to the planet Venus, and was worshipped widely in the ancient Middle East. She was known as the Queen of the Universe and had powers attributed to various other gods. Ishtar was the very first goddess of love, Mesopotamians described her in her many legends and poems as young and strikingly beautiful, with piercing, penetrating eyes.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I broke up with my girlfriend for not taking her meds?

My (24M) girlfriend (28F) has bipolar and BPD. We've been together coming up on 3 years now. For the last half a year we were together it was pretty rough and turbulent, she was unmedicated and was having suicidal breakdowns almost every day, ended up in hospital several times, threatened and got into physical altercations with other girls who spoke to me or she thought were flirting with me, and I was spending almost every single day of my life having to take hours to talk her down from suicide or self-harm. It was emotionally exhausting and as someone who's also had suicide attempts in the past it was also incredibly triggering and damaging to my own mental health.

For additional context as to why I feel the way I do, my last girlfriend also had diagnosed BPD and NPD and when she stopped taking her medication she became fully abusive both physically and verbally and it took me a year of being absolutely beaten down to finally snap and leave her.

(Obvious note: I'm not saying everyone with bipolar, BPD, or NPD is abusive or that these illnesses inherently make you abusive. They were an abuser who just happened to have those things, and that played into how they acted and thought/felt.)

Current girlfriend eventually got medication and has been doing much better for most of the time since then. When she's on her meds she's a wonderful and generally pretty healthy partner - she's supportive, understanding of my boundaries, checks in with me, she's a year clean from self-harm, hasn't displayed any kind of self-destructive behaviour. She's gotten a job and managed to hold it down (got fired from several jobs in the past because of her daily meltdowns meaning she wasn't attending work), she's started exercising and going to the gym, she's picked up new hobbies, made new friends, she's just been doing great in general.

For about the past month though, she started going days without taking her medication and when I reminded her she would say she didn't want to, that she hated taking it, that she doesn't like the way it makes her feel etc. This is something my last girlfriend said too, and I know it's really common for people with BPD (and maybe bipolar too?) to stop taking their medication because they feel emotionally flat in comparison to how they feel off of the meds. I pretty much said that I couldn't handle going back to how she acts when she's off of the medication again and that if she was going to stop taking them then I didn't think our relationship would last through that kind of period again because last time it completely destroyed my mental health, my sleep, my life and several of my relationships due to how much energy and time I was having to put into her vs. myself and everything else. I suggested asking her doctor/psychiatrist/etc. for another dosage change or meds switch again to see if that would work better (though up until recently they have seemed to be working great so I'm not sure how good of an idea switching it up again would be).

She agreed at the time but I was kind of concerned about whether she'd been keeping up with it or not because over the last few weeks I've already noticed things devolving again - her screaming at me out of nowhere and having mood swings, intense jealousy and possessiveness, impulsive behaviour, even a couple of breakdowns again and having to talk her out of self-harm for the first time in over a year. True enough, today I found out she's been pretending to take her medication and throwing them out. When I confronted her about it she admitted she hasn't taken her medication for weeks.

I pretty much withdrew after that and didn't say anything at that moment but after a while she asked me why I was being so quiet and I basically repeated what I'd said to her in the last conversation, that I was honestly rethinking whether or not the relationship would work because I can't handle that kind of emotional exhaustion and constant sacrifice all over again. I don't mind some emotional support and some labour of love in a relationship because of course I'm going to need to look out for her mental health and reassure and comfort sometimes, that's the reality of loving someone who struggles, but I can't do it 24/7 again. I can't once again put talking her down for hours every day and weathering screaming and violent lashing out all the time at the expense of even my own basic needs and my own mental health struggles (for example my c-PTSD from my last relationship).

When I said that she got very very upset and basically said I was forcing her to choose between me and freedom or being able to live a normal/unmedicated life (which I mean, I guess I can't argue with because in a way I am making her choose between me and stopping her meds), and that I couldn't control her like that. I told her I wasn't doing it to control her and that if she's really determined to go off of them she could, but that I would have to make my own personal choice to walk away as a result of it for my own sake.

She said she'd think about it but ever since that conversation I've been going back and forth in my head on how much of a dick move it would be to flat out just do a black-and-white "Either you stay on your meds and regulate your behaviour or I leave"

TL;DR Girlfriend wants to go off of her medication, but when she's off her meds she has almost daily suicidal breakdowns and lashes out at me physically and verbally. WIBTA if I broke up with her if she goes ahead with stopping?

What are these acronyms?

[maliciousblog]

Bully ( Jake )

Your life was relatively okay until your mom had to transfer jobs and you had to move along with her.

Moving to a different city didn't bother you as much as having to start over at a new school just the thought of having to start all over again didn't sit well with you and you didn't have much of a say in it.

So you just sighed and decided to unpack your stuff and settle in to your new home.

The first couple of weeks went without much trouble you managed to make a couple of friends  the teachers adored you .

Things started to feel normal like you had gotten used to the change and started making happy memories in your new home.

About 2 months into the year you had your first big test you were determined to do your best at it. So you decided to go through as much material on the subjects as you could looking through the internet solving papers, the whole nine yards.

On one particular evening you decided to stay back and study in the library figuring you could concentrate better there.

You were currently trying to find a book to look up a particular topic but you didn't quiet seem to be able to find it and it was late at this point so you didn't want to bother the librarian.

Looking at your frazzled expression a figure approached you drawing you out of your search.

"Can I help you?"

You turned back to be met with a smile.

You had seen the boy around campus he was the student body president, scored the best grades and was a stellar athlete.

He always seemed kind to everyone so you didn't think twice before asking him to help you find the book to which he gladly obliged and even offered to help you study that way both of you could work together and it would be easier to finish since it was already getting pretty late.

You happily agreed and both of you went back to your spot.

You were surprised as to how quick he was to pick up on the areas you tought him about and likewise he was also a really good teacher and helped you when you didn't understand something.

Both of you worked really well together helping each other out so you decided to become study buddies and eventually became friends.

Both of you had been studying really hard together and the result of your first test came.

And to Jake's surprise you scored better than him. Needless to say he was happy for you seeing your face light up made him feel warm inside.

A couple of days later your second test result came and again you scored more than him.

He was still happy for you but he felt a slight tinge of jealousy brewing in him.

Another week passed and all your tests had been graded and in each one you stood on top of your class.

The little spec of jealousy that was in him grew to consume him.

How dare you take away the place that was rightfully his.

In his mind you were stealing what was for him by right and he wasn't having any of it.

He worked just as hard as you of not harder but why were you the one doing better than him.

He watched the teachers praise you. Those words of praise were meant to be for him not you.

He began to resent you.

First it started off by just giving you the cold shoulder during class.

You noticed him behaving differently towards you. Both of you were the best of friends now he barely even looked at you.

You felt a little hurt but you tried your best to talk to him.

But he just ignored you. It wasn't wise to further bother him so you just let him be for now.

Until one day you were at the library completing your notes when you felt a cool liquid flow down your head and onto your hand written notes making the ink bleed and destroying the hours worth of hard work you put in.

When you lifted your head you saw Jake with a grin stretched across his face looking down on you.

He leaned closer until your faces were only inches apart you could feel his breath tickle your face.

"That's what thief's like you deserve".

Was all he said before leaving you a sobbing mess in the library.

You left your stuff and ran home.

How could he be so cruel you thought he was your friend.

But that was just the start of it.

He kept torturing you at any chance he got.

Pushing you down the hallway, cutting up your clothes, slashing your tires he did things you couldn't even think of in your wildest of thoughts.

But what was worse was when he got into your head.

He was a smart guy and knew how to get into your little head.

He started to spread rumors about you.

He started to degrade you at any chance he got given his popularity everyone joined in on it.

Ruining you had become his obsession.

He was obsessed with the idea of reducing you into nothing but a broken doll.

Every day you were all that he thought about.

You had consumed him.

It no longer was his need to outperform you he just wanted you to be his.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You just wanted to run away.

The school year was coming to an end and you decided to transfer into a different school to get away from him.

Word of this got to him soon enough and he was shattered.

How could you leave him you belonged to him.

You were peacefully sleeping in hope of going away and leaving him behind.

What you didn't know was that, it was never going to happen.

He broke the lock of your backyard window and snuck into your room.

Seeing you lay there peacefully sleeping brought back  a smile to his face.

He gently placed a damp cloth across your face making your body go limp.

As he tied you up and placed you in the back seat of his car.

You weren't going anywhere. You were his forever.

[catacropolis]

Twisted Wonderland Fear and Hunger AU

Next up is Vil !!

For Vils design I put him in a simple shirt with flowing pants and an iris flower in his pocket. it's simple yet still fashionable.

Moonschorched Vil

Envy

Growing up in the cult of Sylvian, Vil  was primed by those around him to be a thing of beauty. Attaining untouchable beauty was his main goal in life. Eventually he ventured out into the world and found himself a lover. Eventually they got married and the two of them lived a happy and resplendent life in his lover's manor. 

His happy life was changed when he found his lover in the arms of another. A woman from a neighboring country's noble household. Blinded by his jealousy and rage he killed them both.  When his mind cleared he was horrified by what he had done and in his panic fled to the nearest train to get out of town. Grieving the death of his lover he is haunted by his ugly jealous tendencies. He fears the monster he became in that moment when he snuffed out an innocent life. She was just a girl despite his anger towards her for catching his lover's eye. 

Envy is the embodiment of the monster vil became in that moment. 

A raging beast whos strive towards ethereal beauty means destroying all those who may rival him. Eyes torn out by his own hand he blinds himself to the world around him and lets the ugly side of himself ( his envy) be on full display. He is at his most disgusting and most beautiful in that moment. His guilt thrown away and letting himself be at his most spiteful. 

Rher, wanting to bring out the monster inside of Vil revives the woman he killed ( Neige ) and has the mutilated Neige  attack the player.  If the player fails to defeat Neige ( Stitches for enemy reference) when she spawns on afternoon of day 2. If the player fails to encounter her Vil can be found instead stomping on Neige before attacking the player. 

His peacock harpy-like body takes a slightly feminine appearance to mimic Neige's body. The peacock hand becomes Vil’s new eyes pointing him in the direction of his next victim. The head of the peacock spews poison from its delicate beak hitting all party members. 

Holding the same poisoned dagger as in his non-moonschorched form , envy attacks the player with poison , slashing attacks  , and mind draining screeches 

Vils story was inspired a lot by daan’s and the look of envy was slightly inspired by valkyrie but not much.  Neige as stated previously takes the role of stitches in the enemy roster. 

The peacock is a symbol heavily used in reference to Vil and Pomfiore as well as the evil queen in twst. The peacock symbolizes beauty and having the symbolic bird take over his body as it has already consumed his mind is what happens with his moonschorching.  Vils' ragged and hunched appearance is a reference to the elderly hag the evil queen becomes when she poisons snow white. However instead of poison killing Neige it is the poison within Vil, his jealousy, that drives him to murder. 

 Vil's lover could be anyone, written with Rook in mind as a potential candidate, the betrayal of Vils lover is a reference to Rook choosing Neige over Vil despite his overblot about Neige ultimately leading to Vil's defeat at VDC. 

NOTE !!

(With an undefined secondary non-playable cast where roles from a playable character's past could be promoted to a termina contestant. All this to say that Vil can be with whoever,  twst character or otherwise, but there is a context for one possible route. )

Vil’s lover's betrayal is also a reference to Neige and Vils rivalry and how Neige is constantly picked instead of Vil because of his beauty being “ too untouchable” or “ too perfect”. The game describes Neiges appearance as more “ realistically beautiful “ and having a more relatable aura.  This thought process is also why Vil’s lover cheats on him, finding his beauty so ethereal their eye is drawn to a simpler beauty by contrast. 

for more information ?

Au explaination

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (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; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; EMDR therapy; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; baby talk galore; pregnancy hormones (. . .but just wait for part 2 lol); reader continues being sad while she checks Jake out... but now we see jake being sad while he checks reader out lol; mild description of oral sex (m! receiving) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 27.4k+

a/n: hi, loves :) i am sorry for the wait! won't go into detail, but life is a mf beast rn, and i'm rolling w it the best i can. this is a hobby. and while it does take up the majority of my free time, it is also not my main job! so, please be patient as life isn’t easy!

without further ado, here is chapter 10, pt 1... you will get pt 2 tomorrow - it is all set and ready to upload, but i must let the anticipation rise after pt 1. ;)

part 1 includes a hell-ton of stuff that i've been waiting to write - and been waiting for you to read! eek! this chapter is the beginning of a ~new chapter~ in everyone's lives... so, strap in <3 things are about to get real interesting......

as usual, thank you to my lovely sister @joshym for being my encourager and for aiding in expanding on ideas when i feel stuck as hell lol i love you more than words can properly articulate <3

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (i listen to it nonstop while i write this story.... all of the songs are pertinent to the plot and assist in telling it - either already or eventually.)

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"Conscience and covetousness are never to be reconciled; like fire and water they always destroy each other, according to the predominancy of the element."

-Jeremy Collier

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 17, 2022

After several moments of standing there, you started to feel very naked under Jake’s stare. 

The realization that you were still butt-fucking-naked under your towel had you wanting to escape the entire situation. It added one more reason why you wanted to hide in your room for all of eternity.

You didn’t know how to process what had just happened. . . All you knew was that any idea of a nice talk where you revealed the truth to him. . . Was gone. 

He knew now. And you were freaking the fuck out. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked. 

I really just wanted to hear her say it. 

During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards. And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made it more. 

I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. Let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel. 

She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel. I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly. 

And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed. 

Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish our baby. 

Our baby.

I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when she— when I. . . God.

How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now? God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day in the kitchen. 

The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it. But she hadn't fucking stopped . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her. 

I’d let her become more in my life. I thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along. 

I’d never wanted her to leave. But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument. 

And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart. There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. Knew that she didn’t think she deserved happiness or some shit. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew when she refused to acknowledge the truth. 

The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— and then she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . The words had fallen from my lips without any hint of question. Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment. I thought about the words everyday for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day. 

Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room that night. She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. Wait— not— no. The night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used protection. Was that when—?

The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!

I ran a hand through my hair a couple of times, the other one still holding my keys. I  needed to do something with both of my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divets in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.

I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never wanted to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . . 

There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts. Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters. All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it. 

How long had she—? How far along was—?

And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . . Fuck! 

“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head. 

I didn’t look at her. How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.

“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just stand here and—.” I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess around my hot face when I let my eyes pierce hers. 

But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs suddenly wracking her were unexpected. It hurt my heart to stand there and watch her like that. 

But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck. 

As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed look of pity. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this. I was the one just finding out. Not her.

“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”

“Questions, I know,” she finished, walking a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her. 

The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her. 

But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions. 

“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers. 

She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”

“Both.”

“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil. 

I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight. 

When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.

“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.” 

She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . . I resisted, focusing on her eyes. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty. . . 

After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months along,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”

Three months.

“And how long have you known?”

“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer. 

“When did Josh find out?” 

Her jaw flexed as her fists bunched up; eyebrows, drawn together as she glanced down briefly, her eyes snapping back to mine. “Why the fuck is that important right now?”

Oh, she wanted to get angry? Okay.

“Seriously?” I said, my tone sharp as I pointed a finger at her. “You telling my brother about my baby before me is pretty fucking disheartening. Especially when I — fuck. You know why it’s important.”

“I’m sorry. . . I’m stuck on something you said. . . When you called it your baby,” she leveled, stepping toward me once. I didn’t move, only stood taller and sighed deeply, nostrils flared. “Please, tell me more. About how you’re the one who had to find out all by herself. And if you’re the one who had to find out all by herself, you’re probably also the one who’s going to have to stretch her body out to carry this baby for the next six months,” her voice rose with every word she spoke. She sighed, a smile shaking on her lips, yet lacking any positive emotion. “I must’ve fucking forgotten.”

All I could do was stare at her; because, in spite of all of that truth, I was still angry with her. She’d twisted my words. She knew what I fucking meant. 

She just wanted an opportunity to pin something on me in her moment of insecurity. 

It was definitely something she would do in a state of upset. Hell, it was something I would do. Without a thought. I was known for it. Could I be upset with her for doing the same thing? Dammit. I just felt conflicted as hell — didn’t know how to feel about it all. 

I was happy. Really. Truly. Completely over the moon ecstatic at getting to be a father. I just— I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of it. All of the information, the reality of my life. . . It wasn’t sinking in worth shit. Though, at the same time, it felt so incredibly real. 

On the same hand, I also felt completely betrayed to not know a damned thing until this moment. It was fine that she waited to tell me. No question about that. But telling Josh before me still pissed me the fuck off. . . And it would until she understood why it made me so angry. 

She’d confided in him about the baby I helped her make. When she hadn’t even told me. Probably hadn’t even been planning on telling me anytime fucking soon. Because of her determination to keep me out of the loop when it came to our child, I’d had to find out on my own. By accident. 

All because I was a motherfucking identical twin. What were the chances of that shit?

I didn’t get to have a moment of joy at the thought of being a father because I was too busy reading how grateful she was for Josh amidst this pregnancy. All I could think about was how she hadn’t been grateful for me. Hadn’t been grateful enough to keep me in her life. 

She’d pushed me out. But not Josh. Definitely not Josh. She would never say to Josh what she said to me in the kitchen.

I couldn’t take it.

Unable to control my actions, I started acting before thinking. . . Not even looking at her, I focused only on the keys in my hand, still waiting for me to go somewhere. I had to go somewhere. Had to get the fuck out of the apartment that had brought me both my greatest days and my most heartbreaking. 

And this day was officially both.

Pulling the door open without even thinking about it, seeing through blurred tunnel vision, I heard her say my name, once again choking on sobs behind me. Even after I closed the door, she continued to wail my name. 

My heart was longing to stay back with her. Begging me to stay where I knew I needed to. The guilt was heavy. Baby or not, my heart yearned for the woman. Even when I shouldn’t want her, I did. And I really shouldn’t after what she’d said in the kitchen.

I knew it was a dick move to leave. I knew it. But I had to. Couldn’t explain it. So, with blurred vision and hearing her repeat my name and begging me not to leave, I continued down the cemented, outdoor hallway and to the stairs. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

Gone. Found out about it and then he was just. . . gone. 

You stood there long enough to let him walk back through the door. Until he might’ve come back, ready to make things right.

You waited too long. But when you started getting a chill from standing there in your towel, you were suddenly ready to put some clothes on. Ready to hide. Maybe Jake had the right idea to run away.

In the case he didn’t come back tonight, you didn’t want to be waiting for him all night, getting your hopes up. . . only to have them crushed.

Your heart was already burning in your chest, all the way down to the pit of your stomach, at the worry of him not returning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You firmly decided on leaving for a bit. Follow his lead. You went about your business to get your ass out of your home before it swallowed you whole in your fears and worries of Jake.

But. . . driving sounded stupid as hell. You wouldn’t have been able to see past the clouds of tears in your eyes to safely arrive at your destination. And, as sad as you were, you weren’t sad enough to want to wreck your car. The baby’s life was the first you considered. But–then. . . you realized you had a burning desire to keep going for you, too. . . despite Jake leaving, you wanted to keep going. The sadness hadn’t completely overtaken you.

So, you’d wisely decided to schedule an Uber. And while you waited, you hastily pulled your cute gray sweatsuit (thank you, TikTok shop) onto your body as quickly as you could, making sure to put on a sports bra underneath to hold your boobs in place. They continued to hurt like hell. You really needed to get a maternity bra.

And then, after you’d fed Stevie, you waited for the Uber and prayed that it would show up before Jake got back home. 

Well. . .if he came back home tonight. It was very bold of you to just assume he would. Why would he want to return? Your own mother left you because you weren’t worth anything. And tonight, Jake had made it perfectly clear he felt the same way your mom had.

The Uber showed up in no time. . .sooner than you’d scheduled for it to arrive. 

As the black Toyota Solara finally came into view, you wiped your tears for the millionth time since Jake had left. The sobs that wracked your chest hadn’t stopped painting your cheeks since he’d walked out the door. Because, well, he had left you. The one person you wanted with you for this had left when you needed him most.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Applebee’s. The sign to the restaurant had you feeling the urge to do happy dance, even amidst your raging emotions. But you concealed it for the sake of your Uber driver.

For the past few days, you’d been craving their alfredo specifically. The fear of ruining it like you’d ruined so many other foods, had kept you from DoorDashing it. 

But tonight? Tonight you’d decided to treat yourself, and instead of being scared that you’d throw it all up, you took the chance. Thus, scheduling the Uber to drive you to fucking Applebee’s. Of all places.

You’d been sitting for probably five minutes at a booth (comfortably, but definitely lonely), when the rain started pouring down outside your booth’s window. 

And at approximately the same time, you noticed the large group of men around your age at the bar, backwards baseball caps and muscles presumably only huge from steroids. They were screaming at the top of their lungs as a football game droned on on the TV in front of them.

The rain, the jocks. . . made you long for your bed immediately. . . Made you wish you would have just stayed home to wallow for the sole opportunity of letting the thunder lull you to a (much needed) restful sleep. Though, based on the night’s events, you weren’t sure how peaceful that slumber would actually be. Or how quickly it would come.

Thankfully, the prospect of going home came as soon as you started longing for it. The young waitress came by to ask for your drink order, but you went ahead and ordered the alfredo you’d been craving – along with the soft pretzels and cheese which automatically stood out to you when you’d opened the menu. 

Now all you were hoping was that you wouldn’t end up vomiting your guts up over your toilet later. Or worse, all over an Uber driver. You were taking a chance. This was the first time you’d eaten out since starting your new journey of eating and nausea meds. 

Speaking of, you promptly popped a PregEase in your mouth, directly from the stash in your belt bag slung across your chest.

You were thankful for the meds, but at the moment, you were actually totally fine with risking it. The one reason being: food was working as a pretty fantastic distraction from your problems for the time being. So. . . you were letting it do its job.

When the waitress brought your water out to you, your phone started buzzing and ringing in your belt bag, succeeding in interrupting you thanking her. The reverberations felt so good against your boobs (don’t fucking judge); at this point, you were convinced your chest was bound to feel like two heavy bags of tiny nails, for the rest of your life. Nothing brought them relief, and the phone felt surprisingly nice.

She kindly smiled, bringing your attention back to her from your boobs, saying she'd be back soon with your appetizer. You responded with a similar smile to hers and went about balancing all of the shit in your belt bag to get your phone out. 

You figured it was probably Elsie. She was the one most likely to be calling you at this time of night. She was known for using the late hour to openly vent to you about her day. Though, since Josh, the calls had become fewer and fewer. 

Finally getting the phone out and peeking at the screen, you were suddenly wishing it was Elsie. Because, the name staring back at you was making your tummy feel like swirling electricity. 

The process of getting your phone out had taken long enough, though, that you’d missed the call completely. You weren’t sure if it was a bullet dodged or a missed opportunity you were instantaneously longing to happen again.

You didn’t have to contemplate it for too long before his name was lighting up your screen again. And it was admittedly weird seeing his name with your current lockscreen wallpaper. . . A couple days ago, you’d impulsively taken a picture of the sonogram picture from your first appointment and made it your wallpaper. 

What if you’d accidentally left your phone where he could find it? Damn. Were you wanting him to find out on his own? Was that going to be your pussy ass way of telling him? Or were you just being impulsive and dumb?

Once again, the call went to voicemail. Except, there wasn’t time for him to leave one with how quickly he was calling you back.

Goddamn, y/n. Answer, your inner encourager forced you impatiently.

Swallowing thickly, you went to slide your finger over to answer. Your body was swimming with an increasing amount of anxiety. But, you answered it.

“Hello?” You spoke faintly, your belly flip flopping. 

He’s probably calling to say he’s packing his shit and moving out.

“Where are you?!” He asked, his voice ragged and worried. Uneven with what could only be fear. “I got home and you weren’t here and I’m freaking the fuck out. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you with someone?”

Wait. What? Why was he scared?

For some reason, you wanted to be obtuse and not answer his questions. Apparently you were just feeling like an asshole tonight. You didn’t know. You were just tired as hell and didn’t know how to approach him. You wanted to tell him. But, you didn’t.

“I’m fine. I’m just not home.”

“Y/n. Fucking duh. I just told you I’m here,” he replied, impatient but still concerned. “Where are you?”

“What if I don’t want to tell you?” Lie.

He sighed. You could imagine him running a hand across his forehead. His eyes were most likely closed, out of patience. Damn. You’d gotten real used to stressing him out if you could guess the motions.

“Then don’t, I guess,” he relented, voice tense and irritated. “Can you just let me know you’re safe?”

As if on cue, the guys at the bar went ballistic. It made you tense up and roll your eyes at the disruption they were causing to the entire restaurant. But, specifically how they were shouting in the middle of you talking to Jake.  

“Are you at a party?” He gaped, sounding utterly shocked.

Yet again, the men started screaming at the top of their lungs, proceeding to yell a variation of the words Yes! and go-go-go-go!, plus a bunch of other shit you couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t help the growl that came from your mouth, your eyes slowly closing in annoyance. “No, Jacob. Do you really think I’d be at a party?”

“Jesus, sorry,” he apologized. He let out a deep sigh, causing the speaker to rattle a little into your ear. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m worried about you.”

Worried about–? What?

Lay off of him, y/n. You were crying buckets before you left home because you wanted him so badly. Come on. You know he is not the cause of the football fuckers going ham. Don’t take it out on him.

You let out a giant sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Tried to tune out the men to your left. Because Jake. Jake was on the phone. And it didn’t take rocket science to know that you really wanted to see him. Quite frankly, you felt the need to see him. 

But. . .did he want to see you? Or was he just being kind? Only worried about you because he was a decent human being? With no underlying, deeper meaning other than you being pregnant and alone? Did it make you weak if you told him where you were? 

Who cares? Just tell him.

“I’m at Applebee’s,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead before placing the same hand over your round belly to trace shapes against it. 

“Are you with someone?” He asked, tone smooth with a slight edge behind it.

“No, Jake,” you grumbled. Why did he care?

“Do you want me there?” He questioned apprehensively, sounding like it was what he wanted.

But why? He’d left you.

“Do you want to be here?”

“Yes–well,” he paused. “Only if you want me there.”

“Do you think I want you here?”

Why the game of 20 Questions, y/n? His night has already been hard enough.

You knew why. You were avoiding the impending confrontation of seeing him again. Just as much as you did want to see him, you were putting it off because you were nervous. There was no telling what would be said. Would he leave again? Would he say he didn’t want to be in the child’s life? Did it even matter?

“Yes,” he softly responded, waiting for you to confirm or deny.

He was right. And he’d unintentionally answered both of your questions. Yes, it mattered and yes, you wanted him here.

So, after telling him which Applebee’s you were at, he told you he’d be there soon and to stay put before he hung up. The sloppy jocks suddenly started cheering again, clapping each other’s backs. Though, in spite of them, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that swept over your lips.

He was coming for you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

There were about ten minutes between your apartment and Applebee’s, so you waited. 

Just ten minutes. But time crawled.

You were equal parts excited and terrified to see him. The only plausible solution to ease you while you waited, was to watch the door. Your brain was tripping over questions and curiosities all based around him, but just like you’d tried to do all night, you ignored them. Just watched. the. door. 

In reality, you really didn’t have much time to think about a whole lot before Jake was walking through the doors.  Not wearing a rain jacket (or a jacket of any sort) to cover him from the rain. . . which meant he was soaking. wet.

And oh no no no no. . . seeing him like that was not good for your baby hormones. Fuck. Why hadn’t he grabbed one before he left the apartment?!

He was going to catch a cold.

To be totally truthful, you were quite happy he hadn’t put one on. . . Reason being, you could see every single droplet that dripped from his hair. . .that touched his skin. You watched each one fall from the long strands of his wavy locks. Some dripped one-by-one, down the thick column of his neck. And others, directly to the tanned skin of his chest. . . Some even trailing to a hidden place underneath his shirt. . .

He was wearing a light blue button down, the material completely stained from the heavy, unrelenting downpour. You wanted to just peel it off of him–take care of him. You wanted to remove each piece of clothing, carefully dry every part of his body. . .

Not even meaning to, you caught yourself biting your lower lip before soothing it with a lick of your lips. . . 

Okay, y/n. Biting and licking your lips? Seriously?! Stop.

You turned around, pinching your eyes shut. Honestly, ogling over him in this very public space was not ideal. Shouldn’t have been ogling him at all. He wasn’t yours. But dammit your body couldn’t help but heat in his presence. 

Though, the atmosphere of the restaurant did not match your mood at all. In addition to the hoard of men with their beer, the place had become busier – bustling with groups of women and men alike. 

The football guys were still the worst part. You were getting sick of them–on your last nerve.

The continuous hooting and hollering that emitted from the men was obnoxious at best. Stereotypical men. In their natural habitat. They hadn’t stopped acting like heathens during the game and whooped loudly at every Republican ad that played during the commercial breaks. . . Beer bottles repeatedly clanged against each other. You were coming to realize there was zero chance of them quieting down. 

And suddenly it dawned on you that the idea of having to talk to Jake in an Applebee’s, during a (presumably important) football game, sounded dreadful. Having white college men as background noise was the last thing you wanted.

You looked back over towards the door, anxious to set eyes on a real man. Only to find he was finally making his way to you. His shoulders, broad, but shaking and shivering. He kept his arms tightly at his sides, hands in pockets and arms flexing with the shivers, beneath the thin material of his button down. 

You didn’t look too long, though. . . Turned back around — didn’t want to stare long enough for him to catch you. You shook your thoughts away. And for the first time since you’d sat down, the young, drunken men were slightly welcomed as they helped to keep you nailed down to the present with their ludicrous screams. 

Before you knew it, his body came into your view, walking down the small aisle to your table. God, he was handsome. Even with flushed cheeks and wet hair sticking to his face, he was beautiful. 

When Jake finally slid into the booth, he was still shaking off his chill. He cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed harshly into them before clapping and rubbing them together under the table. You knew you were in a daze watching him and you’d stay that way if you didn’t try to speak soon.

“Are you trying to catch a fucking cold?” You hastily questioned him, raising your eyebrow for emphasis. 

He stilled momentarily, setting a steady glare your way. “I rushed here. I didn’t think about grabbing one before just focusing on getting here.”

“Why the rush? You knew I was safe.”

“I was anxious to see you.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. So anxious to not grab a cover for this rainstorm? Why? 

“But you’re the one who left me,” you responded hesitantly after taking a minute to consider his words.

Suddenly, he stopped shaking. He cast his eyes down, sweeping over the table as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he muttered before glancing up at you with eyes that read regret. “It was not the right decision. I know that and I’m so sorry. But I was just feeling a shit ton of emotions and I— I didn’t know what else—.”

“To do. I know,” you finished for him, nodding along to remind him he’d already mentioned that. “That’s not a valid excuse.”

He looked about ready to agree, but then his brows wrinkled and he tilted his head. He looked unsure. “I’m not sure if it’s valid or not, but it’s definitely not an excuse. I quite honestly didn’t know how the fuck to react, so that’s how I chose to feel it. Just needed to leave and refresh by—.”

“By fucking Maya?” You bit back.

What–?

Shit. Where the hell did those words come from? You hadn’t even. . . fuckfuckfuck. Nothing like fully exposing feelings you harbored.

“Excuse me?” He clipped back, voice alternating to a deeper tone. Aggravated. 

You stuttered out a reply the best you could. “I–I was– I didn’t mean to–,” you bowed your head, ashamed of yourself. “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”

Really, you were very sorry. It was uncalled for. 

His response was unexpected. “Don’t be sorry,” he softly said, sighing. Your eyes drew up, waiting to hear what else he had to say. You were not expecting him to reassure you. If you were in his shoes, you’d be appalled. He was rubbing his forehead when he tiredly responded, “Emotions are high right now.”

“Yeah, I guess. Except. . . I don’t really have a reason to be a bitch because I’ve already dealt with this,” you explained, motioning to your belly at the word this. “I’ve accepted it and I need to just. . . calm down.”

He snorted a laugh, brushing the tip of his nose with his pointer finger. The black hair-tie wrapped around his middle finger flashed into view. “Y/n, honey,” he started. But–you were slightly incoherent. Honey? What the fu–? “You’ve always been emotional. In all situations. No matter what,” he blew out a breath, a shiver running up his spine. He was drying off, slowly but surely. “I, of all people, would know.”

That last bit distracted you momentarily from him calling you a pet name. A sweet one at that. But. . . you weren’t focused on that. Rather, you were reeling at the fact that he’d just essentially made mention of the fact that he was the victim of you exposing your raw emotional state.

All you could think about— as you saw a glimpse of hurt flash over his brown eyes, him no doubt thinking of the same thing—was the kitchen. That blessed day in the kitchen where you’d gone full blast on him.

Avert avert avert.

You coughed, trying your best to clear the air. “I know it was probably necessary for you to go—leave. . . To think somewhere else, but . . . it did just suck for you to leave,” you admitted shyly. “It wasn’t an ideal time to be alone. Although. . .,” you sighed, watching his face as he concentrated on you. “I guess I brought it on myself. I should have told you sooner.”

“I am curious. . . Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was afraid of that happening,” you truly stated, waving your hand towards him. “I was afraid of you . . . leaving or something that would hurt like hell. . .”

He nodded, pursing his lips as he considered it. “I understand that,” he caught your eyes, his own, soft. Then, suddenly vulnerable. “But. . . wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me first? And wasn’t it maybe more daunting to tell Josh? I mean you had to tell him about–,” he motioned between you two. You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks. Then, he looked curious, brow quirked. “Wait. . . does he even know that it’s mine?”

“Yes, he does,” you confirmed with a barely-there grin. 

He looked like he wanted to ask you something else, but ended up shaking his head and looking down at his lap, his hands moving to twiddle beneath the table before he did. 

“You’re partially right. It would have made more sense to tell you first,” you agreed partially with his earlier statement, watching him. “But I’m not sure it would have been easier. . . there are factors in the way–between us. . . people that don’t deserve to have their lives changed.”

When he looked up from where he’d been watching his hands move, his eyes met yours. You shared a look, and you knew he understood why it would have been difficult. He knew the people–the person–you were referring to. 

“I see your point. But. . .,” he cleared his throat. “It’s just me. No matter what’s changed between us. . . I’m still me. And this particular situation only concerns you, me, and the baby. No one else,” he clarified. “So, just because she’s in the picture now. . . it doesn’t mean you need to keep things from me.”

She's in the picture now. . . Stupidly, those words broke your heart.

The waitress was suddenly at the table with your food. All of it. Pretzel sticks, cheese, and your main course. She set your order on the table, but you knew you didn’t want to be here much longer. Not when you heard the hollering begin again towards the bar. You were also growing increasingly more tired by the second. 

“Can I get the alfredo to go?” You asked hopefully. 

“Sure! You want me to bring boxes for the rest, too?” Her large gray eyes were wide and bright with her seemingly innocent youth. “Just in case.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, leaning your arms on the table. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

She had nodded and was beginning to walk off when she noticed Jake sitting with you. When she saw him, her eyes bugged out and she stopped in her tracks before continuing any further.

“Wait–,” she started, her brow lifting. “Are you. . . in a band?”

His eyes darted to yours and then back to hers before he answered with a wide grin. “Yeah, actually,” he replied. “I am. It’s called–.”

“I know what it’s called!” She shrieked, her face lighting up instantaneously. “My friends and I love you guys. We’ve been to a few of your shows. We even saw you at the festival and got your demo CD! We went just for you guys,” she gushed, not pausing for more than a second. “I was so excited when I started to see your posters all over,” she rushed out, squealing a little. “We’re so excited for your shows coming up!”

His grin loosened, his cheeks flushing along with hers. “Well, thanks for coming to see us when we play,” he softly responded. “We have some other music being released soon. With a label,” he winked, glancing your way. You blushed, too, for whatever reason. What was happening in front of you? “Be on the lookout.”

The waitress’s smile took up her entire face. “Oh, we will!” She nodded enthusiastically, watching him closely for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I have to tell you. . . you’re so much hotter up close. I mean, from far away, hell yes. But right here? Oh my god.”

You decided you were definitely ready to leave. 

The guys at the bar began exploding at the football game just then, the rain was still pattering against the window, tempting you. . . and then there was the apparent fangirl who did not want to leave. . . your eyes flickered to Jake’s. He’d been watching you, waiting for a sign.

“Do you mind grabbing those boxes?” He asked politely, his smile a bit more forced now. 

And he didn’t even have to ask twice before she was nodding excitedly and racing off to get him what he wanted. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanks to Jake intervening and then quickly getting your food in the boxes for you, you were in his car within fifteen minutes. He’d effectively taken over the bill and paid for you, and had run to grab his car while he made you wait at the door. 

“You don’t need to be getting sick,” he’d explained, right before he covered the front of his face, beeping his car unlocked, and running to pull it up.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the way he was tending to you. 

But before you could feel too giddy about it, you felt weird about it. You didn’t want him to suddenly like you again just because you were carrying his baby. He didn’t need to go above and beyond—you didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything. So, as soon as he’d pulled his Jeep up (and helped you up and inside of it, effectively getting himself soaked again), you got in and waited for him to get in.

As you sat, it encouraged you even more because he’d even gone the extra mile and turned on the seat heaters. He was doing too much when he didn’t need to.

He’d started driving as soon you got in, and you tried damn hard not to watch him drive. Because, you’d just learned, that for some asinine reason, your fucking baby hormones went into overdrive when you’d tried watching a soaking wet Jake behind the wheel of his car. The way he leaned back, relaxed, one arm resting on the console between you two. . .

So, in order to distract yourself, you brought up your winding trail of thought. 

“Please don’t start caring about me again just because I’m carrying your baby.”

You heard him scoff under his breath, the sound alone making your heartbeat quicken as you waited for his response. 

“Start caring about you again? What does that even—?” 

Crossing your arms under your (always sore) boobs, you sat up straighter in your seat to keep some sort of dignity as you further explained. “Jake, you’ve been distancing yourself from me for months now—and for good reason, mind you—I just don’t want you to start doing nice things just because of this situation,” you sighed, deciding to instead lace your hands across your stomach. Training your eyes on your thumbs that tapped your sweatshirt, you continued. “I don’t need you overextending yourself on my behalf.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, and next time you looked up, you were already at the second to last light to the complex. Biting your lip, you contemplated what to say to break the heavy air in the car. . . you always hated when you felt like you’d said something wrong. And you knew you were very good at saying the wrong thing. 

So, you decided on an apology. “I’m sorry if something I said was wrong,” you offered, pitifully. It had been a long night. There was no way you wanted to end it with him mad at you. “Really. I just—.”

“You’re overthinking, y/n,” he promptly cut you off, making a turn to the last light. “I never stopped— I didn’t stop caring about you when we stopped—,” he blew out a breath, stopping at the red light. 

“I’m sorry I said tha—.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. You’re right; I have been distant. And, again, you were right when you said it's for good reason. It’s been for damn good fucking reason,” he clipped, letting the words sit in the air for a minute. “But just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you—.” He coughed. You could imagine he was shaking his head. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”

Your insides had officially turned to mush and you weren’t sure how to process that he still cared so deeply. But, he was right. . . Him bringing up the therapy showed his heart. . . You knew his heart. Knew how deeply he felt things. . . What you would continue to wonder was why you were something he hadn’t stopped caring about. When you’d been such a massive bitch. You weren’t worth it.

Heart beating quickly in your chest, you cleared your throat as he once again passed through a green light. The last one. You were almost home. 

Gotta wrap it up quickly.

“I’m sorry again,” you muttered. “For not telling you sooner.”

“Don’t be. It was your call to tell who you wanted first,” he sighed, turning on his right blinker to turn into the complex. “I just need to get out of my head about it—need to not let it piss me off.”

You looked out the windshield, the rain had let up. It was only sprinkling now. Taking a deep breath, you admitted to him what you knew to be true. “I really should have told you before Josh. I know that.”

Glimpsing for a millisecond from the corner of your eye, you saw his lip quirk before he looked your way at the perfect moment. Your eyes met briefly before you turned back to observe the parking lot through your window.

“Really?” He questioned warily. “Do you mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel better? Because you don’t have to do that just because I’m being a pussy abou–.”

The snort-laugh that came from you was unintentional, but you couldn’t contain it. “Jake. You aren’t being a pussy.” You turned your head to get a better look at his face now that he’d parked. His eyes waited for yours, highlighted by the fluorescent light he’d parked underneath. Right next to your Jetta. Smiling, you surely stated, “And, yes, I mean it. Truly. I know it would’ve been the right thing for me to tell you first.” 

Considering the car was still running and in park. . .it seemed he wasn’t anxious to get inside. He was content like this. . . at least that’s what you gathered from the way he’d swiveled his body to face you better from his seat. So, you continued on with honesty, while you felt brave. “I was just really scared. Scared to tell you and learn how you’d react. . . I didn’t want to disappoint you with something you really do not need to be responsible for . . .”

Then, the unthinkable happened and he was reaching over to hold your hand over the console. It was a feeling unlike any other–the feeling of his skin against yours. The comfort of his hand, the warmth, the callouses that scratched your flesh the slightest bit as he rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb. How long had it been since he’d touched you?

His voice and the squeeze he gave your hand brought you out of your daze. “Y/n. . . look at me.” You did as he said, following his soft, gravelly tone, finding his eyes with your own. “I am the furthest thing from disappointed.”

“But–,” you shook your head, your brow wrinkled as you searched his eyes. “But the way you left. How angry you were because I hadn’t told you yet–or–or before Josh. . .”

“There’s a difference between feeling plain old upsetedness and full on disappointment,” he clarified, his eyes swimming in yours. His strong hand lightly held yours, squeezing once more. “I assure you, I was never once disappointed tonight that you are having my baby.”

. . .having my baby. The words bounced around in your head. . . hearing him say those words just. . . did something to your heart.

“I’m excited about all of it. Honestly.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners with how his eyes lit up at the sentiment. “I mean, it was a lot to wrap my mind around and I still haven’t totally grasped the reality yet, but. . . I’m happy. Very happy,” he squeezed once more, still not moving his hand from wrapping the top of yours. “And I really hope you let me take responsibility as the father of the baby, because I really want to know this child. . . already matters so much to me.”

Your heart clenched at his words. . . He meant them and you knew it. Jake’s heart was arguably the most genuine, honest, exquisite you’d ever come across. So, it really didn’t take a second thought to utter your next words. “You can absolutely have the responsibilities of a father. . . if that’s what you want,” you raised your eyebrow with the word if. And at that, he’d nodded with an I do spoken quietly against the lull of the A/C. 

Though, there was one thing that he needed to know. The protective mama in you — that part of you needed to say this for your baby’s sake. He or she would not hurt like you had your whole life. 

“However,” your tone got serious, unwavering. “You can’t pull the shit with leaving like you did tonight with the baby. If you want the responsibility, you’ve gotta be sure.”

“I am,” he said, not missing a beat. “I won’t do that again.”

“I mean, you can do it to me. I can handle it. I’ve learned that that happens. . . but the baby. . . I just–.”

“I’m not leaving either of you alone in this,” he assured, leaning closer to you. Your heart skipped a beat. Due to still drying from the rain, he smelled like the Earth– fresh, sweet, real. Solid. True. “I know you won’t be alone because you have Josh and Elsie and so many other people, but. . . I want to be in this with you and the baby.”

“What about Maya?” You lightly asked, slightly confused. 

“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” he responded quickly. Too quickly. It made your chest tight and a giant rock hit the pit of your stomach. “But she will understand that I have to be there for you.”

Not trusting yourself to talk with the tears gathering in your throat, you just nodded before bowing your head to look at your little tummy. Reassurance in the sweetest, most innocent form. 

He took a deep breath, the rush of his breath, fresh from a mint he’d sucked on on the way back. “I really shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he firmly stated.

You looked up from your belly, blinking a few times to register that he was speaking so closely to you, close enough for his breath, now brushed your cheek. Not super close, but close enough. Much closer than he’d been for a while. 

He continued, “And you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for telling me on your own time. You are the one who was in charge of all of those decisions. It’s your body. Your body that’s growing the baby. . . So, it’s your right to decide things like that,” he enunciated, his intent to reassure, clear in his tone. “It just sucks a little bit for me that it was Josh, but that’s on me. . . not you. But even with all of that, I really should not have left. That gave you the opposite idea of what I wanted to give you. . . It was just a-fuckin’-lot to process all at once.”

“Yes, and you are completely entitled to believing that it was a lot–that it is a lot,” you reassured him, regretting a few of your words from earlier. “Even if you’re not the one carrying the baby, it’s going to be intense for you as the father. Maybe even more so–.”

He made a little noise of disagreement, but you just gave a quiet grin, holding up a hand.

“. . .in some senses. Especially since you can only experience it from the outside. I’m the one who is experiencing all of the changes, all of the time. I’m reminded every time I look down or touch my belly, but you don’t have that luxury every moment of the day.”

“Yeah, but it’s still more for you,” he argued.

“It’s okay, Jake,” you smiled. “I still agree. Trust me. I just wanted you to know that I understand how it might end up feeling for you. I was just afraid I made you feel like you weren’t validated in feeling overwhelmed. Leaving made sense. It’s just the worst feeling for a girl with abandonment issues,” you chanced a look down at your tummy, feeling awkward approaching so many personal feelings. It felt weird that it still felt so natural. He just brought it out in you. You quickly covered, not wanting to seem overbearing. “W-which, I can handle it–it is not on you to–”

“No, it is on me,” he seriously professed, eyes earnestly holding onto yours. “I knew about your past and I still left you. I am seriously so sorr–.”

“Jake,” you sighed his name, looking up at him again. His jaw was flexing, eyebrows turned in. “Stop apologizing,” your lips lifted in a soft smile, bringing a hand to sit on top of his. “We all do things we regret and it wouldn’t be fair for us to hold those things against each other. . . when we’ve all done thoughtless things in the heat of the moment.” At the last bit, your eyes left his to flash at your tummy.  Your hand left the top of his to delicately hold your small bump. “Example A of a ‘Heat of the Moment’ moment.”

A quiet beat passed, his face thoughtful as his eyes studied your own before he spoke. 

“I don’t regret that one though,” he said, eyes so big and so beautifully deep with emotion. 

Wetness was suddenly gathering in the corners of your eyes when you traced them over him—over his chest, tanned and exhaling so handsomely with every breath he took. You looked away from his perfect pecs, and back up to his eyes. 

“I don’t either.”

There were a few slow, nearly silent moments where all you could hear was the sound of your combined breaths with the A/C blasting against you both. Your hands still held each other, gripped each other. His hair was dry. His face was dry. And in the secret dimness of the night and the bright light of the tall lamp outside, you could see all of the delicate markings and freckles on his face. The light birthmark on the tan skin of his cheek.

Before you could think to do another ‘Heat of the Moment’ thing (weird term, but it definitely applied to you), and do something like rub the skin of his birthmark with your thumb, he was breaking eye contact, skin contact, and shutting the car off. 

“Better go inside,” he said, pausing as he’d just taken the keys out of the ignition. “It’s getting late.”

“It also might start pouring again,” you added, opening your door, trying to make conversation. 

He didn’t open your door that time, like he had at the restaurant. He just sent a quiet smile your way before getting out of his side. He did, however, wait for you to meet him at the rear bumper of the car before heading back to the apartment. You matched one another’s steps in silence. It was a bit awkward now, unlike the calm, still moment in the car. Your breaths, having combined in the shared space. . .

When you’d made it inside, he told you to go get ready for bed and that he’d feed Stevie and take care of the rest of the apartment.

“You just go to bed,” he waved you off, his expression kind. “It’s been a long night and you need rest.”

He obviously wanted to help, so you let him. Albeit, you let him do so while your heart fell a bit in your chest at your evening with him coming to an end. You hoped that there would be more times like this in the future with the baby you now both knew you shared. 

Absently, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, then nodded and gave a faint goodnight. Once you were getting into bed in a giant t-shirt to cover the bit of ass exposed at the edges of your comfortable granny panties, you heard a little knock against your cracked door. 

You waited for him to come in since the door was still cracked, but he didn’t.

“Yeah?” You called, brows drawn in.

He opened the white paneled door just enough to show him at the threshold of your room. His hand was on the knob while he leaned with the opposite forearm against the doorframe. You did very well at not blatantly checking him out. That was something to be proud of. 

Though, you couldn’t be too proud, because you knew it was just because your tiredness had hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been impossible to ignore as soon as you’d felt the cool, soft cotton of the gray oversized t-shirt touch your skin. 

Your blinking was becoming slower and slower by the second. But your eyes perked up a little when he cleared his throat, suddenly interested in anything he had to say. Even if it was something as simple as Stevie not being hungry. Just wanted to hear his voice once more before going to bed.

And you got exactly that as his eyes swept over your face briefly, deep in thought. “I really, genuinely do want to help however I can with the baby stuff—however you want me or need me. I want to help you because it means I’m helping the baby. Our baby.”

Okay, the next time he referred to the baby being his, you were sure your heart was going to beat completely out of your chest. It did things to you.

“Alright,” you responded tiredly, a slight blush warmed your cheeks. “That sounds good.”

When you loudly yawned, he nodded with a quiet grin fitting his handsome features. He began to shut the door, but just before he could, he opened it once more.

“I–,” he cleared his throat. Your stomach felt airy and light at the possibility of what he might say. You didn’t know what to expect, but him talking to you was just. . . exactly what you needed. “I took a drive and listened to music, by the way.” 

You blinked, brow furrowed with confusion. “. . .What?” 

“When I left tonight. I just drove around and listened to music,” he said, his amber-brown eyes, so earnest. “Cleared my head with music.”

“Why are you telling–?” You sleepily wondered aloud.

“I. . . didn’t go see anyone,” he elaborated. “Just wanted you to know that. Also, I promise I won’t tell anyone–including Maya– until you’re ready.” 

“Okay,” you squeaked, unsure of what else to say.

After observing each other for just a few moments after he’d spoken, he suddenly dipped out with a quick ‘Goodnight.’

The thunderstorm picked up again right after he’d left you, Stevie racing in, all frazzled, with her tail fluffed out at the sounds of the storm. The sleep that threatened to cloud your vision was a most welcome friend as you let yourself become cozy under your soft, high thread count sheets and fluffy, featherlight duvet. Your head was nestled against the pillow, Stevie snuggled against your ankles, purring. And your brain was just wandering off to slumberland when you understood why he’d said what he did about not being with anyone. . . it finally clicked. 

He’d wanted you to know he hadn’t been with Maya like you’d assumed. Like you’d brashly accused him of at Applebee’s.

. . .But why did he care to tell you? 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next morning, you sat at the counter with a book about pregnancy, taking notes. It was the end of your new morning routine. 

You didn’t have class or work for the day, so you were enjoying some much needed down time. The idea that you’d be able to take countless naps literally made goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“Hey.”

And now you had even more goosebumps erupting at the sound of his raspy voice. 

“Morning,” you replied, highlighting a line in your book about staying ‘physically active’ during pregnancy. 

“Morning. You feeling okay?”

“Mhm. . .” you replied, halfway present and barely looking up from the page and the sticky you were jotting a note onto.

“Taking notes?”

“So many,” you giggled, your eyes finally looking up to find him dressed and ready for the day at the Keurig, preparing a cup of coffee. “All the time, I’m doing research.”

“I believe it,” he replied, clicking his K-cup in the holder. The hot drink was trickling into his mug when he looked at you in question. “Based on your research, can you have caffeine? Could I make you a coffee or something?”

“Um, not the safest in high amounts,” you pondered, flipping to the page where you’d just read about that a few days ago and quoted the book for him. “‘Drinking caffeine during pregnancy has some major health risks. The caffeine gets digested much slower and goes through the placenta into your baby’s bloodstream,’” you droned, feeling obnoxious with the long response. 

“Interesting. Anything else it says about it?”

You raised a brow and gave him an ‘mhm’ before looking at the page again. “‘This means that the caffeine side effects of a racing heart rate, high blood pressure, and a stimulated nervous system affect you and your baby. The result is a higher chance of miscarriage. Even small amounts have been known to cause a 13% increase in low birth weight for your newborn,’” you glanced up, he was rubbing his chin, listening to every word. So, you finished out the paragraph. “‘Try switching to a naturally decaffeinated herbal tea, but do consult your doctor or midwife as certain herbs can cause premature labor.’”

“Have you tried any herbal tea?”

You made a gagging motion. Herbal tea honestly did not strike your fancy at this stage in your life. “The baby says herbal tea sounds disgusting,” you joked. He huffed a laugh with you as you finished your thought. “I’m looking into smoothies to start the day. I’m actually going to try making a few today since I’m home all day.”

“Cool. Just thought I’d offer,” he finished. 

Or so you thought.

After getting his coffee off the Keurig, he made his way around the counter to sit in the barstool next to you. Heat washed over your face at his closeness.

“Speaking of doctor or midwife. . . which are you going with?”

“Doctor,” you answered. “Her name is Dr. Rose. Sweet, middle aged, Southern lady.”

“Oh, you’ve had your first appointment?” He asked, sounding curious and a little apprehensive. 

“Yeah. . . First one last week.”

“Oh,” he replied, sounding just a little discouraged. But he tried to cover it. “Cool. How did it go? Did you have to go alone?”

“Mhm,” you said, suddenly digging into a page and very seriously taking notes on a sticky note about random ass shit you could care less about. “Josh went. It went well.”

He hummed, not responding right away. And you knew why. 

You really did feel guilty now that you’d taken Josh to your first appointment and not Jake. He was the baby’s father, after all. And thinking about how he’d have reacted to seeing the baby with you, both of you, for the first time. . . You were suddenly very downcast as you thought of the missed opportunity. 

“But you can come to the rest of them with me,” you rushed out, suddenly looking up at him as you said so. His eyes were huge as he watched you be neurotic. God, you were annoying. “If–if you want. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“O–of course. Yes,” he stuttered. “You tell me when and I’ll be there. Every single one.”

You realized he sounded eager and thrilled, not frightened like you feared. 

“Okay,” you acknowledged, slightly breathless. 

Once again, you were in the same situation as you had been last night. He was, once more, so close. Right there. Your shared breathing, the only sound comprehensible to your ears in the calm, quiet of the morning. His breath, smelling of coffee, should have turned you off. . . but it didn’t not at all. And the way he went to lick his lips, just once– his eyes, not leaving yours. . . 

Then, he was jolted back to reality, blinking furiously. 

“I’ve, um, gotta go run some errands and then I have a meeting with the label,” he suddenly said, rising up. He grabbed his cup, rushing around, dumping it in the sink before grabbing a cinnamon bagel from the pantry. He bent to get a Zip-loc bag from a lower cabinet, and your eyes moved on their own to his ass in his light denim jeans. 

What. A. Sight. Now you were darting your tongue out to sweep over your lips.

He zipped up the bagel and left it on the counter to hurry to his room. When he reappeared, he was holding his phone, sending a text based on the sound, before he tucked it into his front pocket. He also held a beat up guitar case. 

“Still carrying around that same old case?” You grinned, a brow perked at the sight of the duct tape holding it together. A few stickers here and there, littering the case. “Not a new one to match your new rockstar life?”

“The case adds character,” he winked, your blushing face, the victim. Then, he was on his way to the door, keys jingling out of the bowl on the counter and into his hand. “Let me know if you need anything today.”

You were responding with an agreeing noise and word as he shut the door behind him. But when your eyes scanned the counter again, you saw the bagel. Even though it was just a bagel with cinnamon swirl, it was still his breakfast. He needed to eat. That’s what had you rushing out the door after him, your page getting a quick sticky pressed into it.

And, as soon as you saw the twinkle in his eye at you remembering to grab the bagel for him, you realized that you just wanted that. If you were being completely honest, you’d just needed that one last smile to start your day. The perfect start to a morning, you’d say. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You decided to order some chicken fajitas from a local restaurant. DoorDash was your new best friend with the pregnancy cravings. 

Chicken fajitas were a new favorite for the baby. A weekish ago when you’d first tried them as a pregnant woman, you’d learned they tasted more delicious than they ever had before. They didn’t make your tummy roll.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you decided to do some tidying around the apartment. You washed a couple of dishes you’d left in the sink from the morning, and picked up notebooks, textbooks, and toys of Stevie’s from around the living room. Then, after further inspection of the living room, you realized it could handle a sweep or two with a vacuum. And after that, you decided to Swiffer the kitchen. Didn’t feel like full-on mopping, but you had to round out the floor cleaning. 

Before you could head to your bedroom or restroom to clean those spaces, a boundary was drawn for you when you heard a knock at the front door. DoorDash. Food. Fajitas.

Suddenly, unashamedly, your mouth was watering. Food took total priority over cleaning and you left the vacuum and Swiffer precisely where they were. You never left them out after cleaning, but you were hungry, okay? 

But just as you’d made it to the door, you didn’t have to open it. Instead, you heard polite conversation from the other side, thank you’s and have a good night’s. 

Before he opened the door, you went ahead and did it for him. And so, when you did, there was Jake, holding your food. The fajitas didn’t matter much anymore. 

Well. . . That was until he walked in and you got a good whiff of the steaming, seasoned vegetables and grilled chicken. Priorities were back to normal real quick with an embarrassing rumble from your stomach. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you’d eaten all of your food in basically one bite, you sat on your sofa with a damn good book you were quickly becoming entranced by. But about twenty minutes into you sitting there, Jake appeared from where he’d disappeared to shower after he’d sat your food on the counter.

“You know, I keep thinking about something,” Jake started, coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch from you.

He was freshly showered— looking and smelling fucking delicious–hints of citrus came from his drying hair. Then, you smelled the warm and slightly sweet scent of sandalwood as he moved, propping his pajama clad legs on the coffee table in front of you two, unsticking his ripped t-shirt from his probably still-wet chest. You tried very hard not to watch him situate himself, too. The way he adjusted the inner seam of his pants, dangerously close to his. . . 

Yeah, you looked away. Focused hard on the book you were trying your damnedest to read. His body was a massive distraction. 

Trying to not be totally inappropriate, you replied to his earlier statement, still training your eyes on the page in front of you. “What were you thinking about?”

“I brought up the therapy thing the other night,” he started. You gave an absentminded ‘mhm’ in response, finally finding slight interest in the characters in front of you again. “And I’ve been wondering. Did you ever give that a second thought? Starting therapy?”

You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to catch up with the more serious topic of conversation. Looking up from your book, you closed it and put it to the side. When you placed the novel on the coffee table, he followed your hand back to you. His eyes found yours and your eyes fluttered again. You shook your head. “Yeah,” you trained your features, letting a smile float to your lips at his attention to you. “I actually–um–I started going.”

His features showed unkempt elation at your words. His eyes, bright and a wide smile on his lips. He sat up, facing you better than before, a foot balanced on the floor as the other bent with his body leaning towards you. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah,” you blushed. Why did he care so much? Surely it was mostly for the wellbeing of the baby. Right? 

You know he cared before he knew about the baby, a calm voice hushed in the corners of your mind. Just let him in. Don’t be afraid.

Clearing your throat, you kept up with your thoughts and tried to open up in spite of your ever-swirling unsureness. “Thank you for doing the research. Really. I’m super grateful. You gave me the push I needed and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. The baby, too,” you added. “I wanted to get better for the baby. You two made quite the team in helping me want to be better.”

His cheeks reddened, complimenting his skin tone and the few freckles and scars that dotted his cheeks. He shook his head, “Don’t thank me. I just wanted to help–that’s it. You made the brave move to start,” his lips twitched with a quiet, close-lipped grin. “How’s it going? Well–no–you don’t have to answer–that’s not my–.”

You ignored him, suddenly feeling this urge to fill him in. “I love my therapist. Like, she is already one of my favorite people on this fucking earth,” you beamed, thinking of Gia’s wonderful aura and personality. “And we actually start EMDR in a couple of weeks.”

“Oh,” he started, surprised. His eyes widened as he leaned back into the arm of the couch nearest him. “You decided on EMDR, too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing down briefly before letting your eyes dance with his again. “That seemed to be the only logical route since there’s so much shit to dig through that I don’t even–can’t even remember. It seemed like the most intensive form of therapy and I needed that.”

“Are you afraid of what you might find?”

“Yes,” you replied without question. “But, that’s the only way you can properly heal. Sometimes things that feel right–like EMDR, because it just feels like the right path already– those things, they’re going to probably also feel a little uncomfortable and feared at first. But, it all leads to the ultimate destination of being healed. And that’s what matters most.”

There was a quietness, a cozy silence that settled between the two of you. A few moments where you shared breaths and your gazes intertwined. . . It felt heavenly to share space with him like this when things felt normal and all right between the two of you. There wasn’t another word for it. 

His eyes were sincere with his tone when he broke the silence. “Y/n,” he breathed your name, making your tummy flutter with the most illustrious butterflies. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

Suddenly feeling like you were getting too much praise for something you were doing for the baby rather than yourself, you shook your head and brushed him off with a wave of your hand. “Don’t be,” you encouraged with a little scoff, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

“I will be proud and it is a big deal,” he concluded. “All I’ve wanted is for you to feel closer to being whole–you deserve it.”

“The baby deserves it most,” you argued–didn’t want to be self-centered on the subject. “It’s for the baby.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms across the chest of his white t-shirt. “I want you to focus on helping yourself, too, y/n. Please,” he asked, tone softening. Your eyes flickered across his. “I brought it up in the first place because I wanted you to feel better.”

You took it as food for thought, nodding at his words. Truly, you did consider what he’d said. . . his opinion mattered a helluva lot to you–probably too much. But you didn’t want to waver from who you were doing it mostly for. Your hand found your tummy as you reached the coffee table for your book and Stanley. 

Taking a big sip from your trusty tumbler, you eyed him once more before opening your book. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay in here with you when you were sure he had better things to do. “I will remember that,” you offered with a small grin, flipping your book open to where you dog-eared it. 

You waited for him to get up from his spot on the couch, but. . . he didn’t. He stayed put, situating his body to face the TV. 

In your peripheral vision, you saw how his legs spread across the cushion and once again tried to ignore ignore ignore. But you couldn’t help the thought that there was just something so fucking enticing about Jake Kiszka manspreading. It was gross when every other man did it. But Jake? All it made you want to do was straddle his sturdy hips.

Fuck. Focus on the book. Come on, y/n.

“Also. . .you realize, if you are craving something,” he began, pulling you from your book yet again. “You don’t have to DoorDash it. I’m always willing to go get you the food you are wanting.”

To put it simply, you were surprised by the turn in conversation. It was sort of random, but also not random all at the same time. 

For no reason whatsoever, you decided to combat the sweet offer. “What if you’re with Maya when I’m craving something?”

Why the fuck were you like this? Honestly, it felt mostly like a form of protection from getting your hopes up too high. . . it was a coping mechanism. But you hated it. It was stupid.

He hummed, thinking. Then, he piped up with an answer in no time. “I’ll just try to make sure we hang out here more than her house. Simple.”

Oh, joy.

“You’d rather be here than her massive mansion of a home?” You questioned, trying to not think about seeing her stupidly stunning face more than you wanted to. 

“Well, yeah,” he confusedly responded. “This is my home and I like being here.”

His home. He liked being here. The words pulled at you–in every direction. Broke you and made you wish things were different.

“How does she afford that, by the way?” You unapologetically nosed, not wanting to sit in any downhearted thoughts. It was rude to pry, you knew. But you didn’t really care at the moment.

He chuckled raspily, reaching to the coffee table for the Roku remote. When your eyes immediately looked over your book to peer at his waist, you didn’t think twice about it. It was whatever. “She’s the financial manager for this big corporation on Fifth Avenue.”

Your stomach fell. Jesus. Besides having trash music taste, apparently she was incredibly intelligent, too? What didn’t she have? You couldn’t even figure out what the fuck you wanted to do with your life and she was financially managing a giant ass company?Depressing as hell. Showed you your worth once again, in comparison to her. She was someone and you were literally nobody. 

“Can I watch something?” He asked you, patiently waiting. You gave a half-ass ‘yeah, of course’ in reply, not fully present. 

And when he eventually turned on some documentary about pirates that sort of piqued your interest, too, you decided to close your book for a final time. And you didn't put any more substance to your gloomy self-consciousness. It was your own fault you were feeling this way now–being nosy when you shouldn’t have been. Prying into someone’s life who’d never done anything wrong to you. 

Yeah, she’d slept with Jake. . . but did she even know that you’d also–? Shit. Did she know that the woman her boyfriend lived with used to fuck him, too? How in the hell would she react to the news if she didn’t already know that–? Your stomach twisted into knots at the thought of her finding out about. . . all of it.

The courage sprouted up as a historian started speaking on an infamous female pirate. “Does–does Maya know that we used to. . .?”

His brows dipped, thoughtful, turning down the television to acknowledge you’d spoken. But, he kept watching the documentary, his eyes honed in on the black-boxed subtitles. “No, actually. No she doesn’t. Didn’t really feel the need to tell her.”

Of course he didn’t feel the need. It kind of really hurt, but it wasn’t on Jake. Not at all. You knew very well that the sex probably wasn't as important to him as he’d once expressed. You’d been so angry and hateful to him, enough to drive away any sort of deep, lingering feelings that might have lied there. 

He knew that it wasn’t special enough that she needed to know. It was something of the past. All that mattered now was her. Only now. . . There was one inevitable reason it would have to come to light. You didn’t give voice to the obvious. The fact that, now, he would have to tell her. And you both knew it. 

As he turned the volume up a couple notches, you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck would she react. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 21, 2022

You couldn’t have made it to your car any faster if you tried. Looking at your parking decision in hindsight, you realized you should have parked closer to the campus advisory office. But you hadn’t. You’d left your car parked where it had been for class. So now you had to walk a much longer distance that you could have avoided. . . If you’d just thought ahead.  

And in depressing moments like these, you wished you would have. The tears that flew down your cheeks in steady tracks made you beyond grateful that you hadn’t worn mascara. You’d had to meet with your advisor today to touch base and talk career plans. . . It was something that Pratt had decided to add to all program studies, for senior students. The idea of the meeting was to help students feel supported. 

But you didn’t feel fucking supported. Not at all. The way your advisor had blatantly judged you for even daring to bring up the idea of being a lyricist. . . She had instantly struck your idea down with a curt shake of her head and furrowed brows. Her eyes had lit up with laughter. But thankfully, she hadn’t been so terrible as to actually laugh in your face. 

Her words hadn’t been much better than that alternative, though. She’d unabashedly, condescendingly criticized your idea of becoming a lyricist. She made you feel stupid for ever even thinking of it as a possibility. 

“I’m not saying it’s impossible, but there’s a very slim chance that a label will take a fresh graduate. That’s a career you have to prove yourself in. Takes a long time to do that, a lot of experience that you don’t have.” 

The snarky tone in her voice pissed you off. Her words stuck with you enough that they dared to crush every dream you had about your future, which is something an advisor should not do. They should encourage, not discourage, to the point of making their advisee’s feel like utter shit after an appointment. 

So, as you finally made it to your car, you tried to contain the sobs that threatened to escape. . . but to no avail. Because, over and over again, you thought of how your advisor–someone who should be helping you to pursue your dreams–basically told you that you weren’t good enough for the one thing you wanted to do. She’d told you as much in her “officially official doctorate-level” advisor lingo. If her goal had been to completely crush you, she’d done just that. 

You were glad your next stop was therapy because you desperately needed to hear Gia’s two cents.

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 21, 2022

You spent roughly 30 minutes filling Gia in on the past week of your life. She heard all about you telling Jake, talking to your campus advisor, and any other thing that came to mind to tell her. 

When you started the session, Gia had let you know that you only had the first thirty minutes because you needed to find your mental and emotional safe place by the end of the session. It was today’s goal to establish that place. Finding your footing in the safe place was a vital precursor before you began EMDR. She’d had great advice for your life update, once you’d effectively word-vomited all over her. 

To your utter relief, the career thing didn’t bother her at all. Her expression barely changed as she’d shrugged. The first thing she’d done was assure you that everything would be fine and it would work out and that you have time to figure it out, despite what societal norms would tell you. So, even though that had been the biggest, most terrifying thing on your mind when you’d shown up to counseling today, you decided to not worry about it since Gia didn’t seem disturbed by the news at all. 

“Anything is possible,” she’d reassured you once your tears had momentarily stopped after telling her everything your advisor had said. “Don’t let a few words–opinions– from one woman make you disbelieving of that fact.”

Her opinions on Jake were positive, too, which made your heart swell in your chest. Though, it simultaneously broke for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?

“And Jake. . .,” she’d remarked at the end of the thirty minute mark, rolling back in her chair to her desk to get a big swig of her herbal tea. Your baby thought it was gross, your stomach rolling, but good for her and her nasty tea. “He is an outstanding example of a man. I’m impressed with his actions, his words. . . all of it. He seems like a stand up guy, and I hope I get to meet him one of these days,” her grin was sly, but you didn’t know why. 

So, yes, while your heart beat erratically and longingly at her words about him, it simultaneously broke your heart for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?

It made you think, as you watched her type notes on her laptop . . . Would you have told him if you were still seeing each other? Surely so. . . But maybe not. . . you weren’t really the best at complimenting him. And you sort of (desperately) hated that.

Don’t fucking think about it, y/n, a thoughtful, protective voice said to you. Just think about you right now. 

So, you did the best you could to shove any thought of being a bitch to him from your mind. And instead focused on Gia’s comfortable couch. Soft camel-colored leather. The way the cushion sank under you felt like sitting on a dense cloud. She was making light conversation before getting to the nitty gritty. You focused on her the best you could. 

Today would be your first venture into the realm of EMDR. . . . And you were anxious to begin this long-awaited journey of replenishing your soul with the incredible gift of reprocessing. 

“The safe place we are finding today will be where you go when things become too much during our EMDR sessions.” Gia wheeled closer to you in her light pink office chair, the smell of eucalyptus and mint following her, as she must use it as a sort of body oil or spray. She carried the calming smell with her everywhere. And the office, so wonderfully consoling with the scent of lavender. The little machine that spurted the essential oil every 10 minutes. All of these things combined, keeping the room drenched in calm. 

“There are places your mind is going to take you, some darker than others. These are scenes from your life that you will need to experience again in order for us to process through them so you can heal through them. Considering, you know, EMDR is simply a reprocessing technique,” she explained, adjusting her wire lens frames on her nose. “In order to not feel trapped, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed in these memories, you will need to have a safe place to turn to–a place to run to–a scene to easily unlock. It might be unknown to you until you actually plant your feet in that scene, but this place is already the natural wave your brain takes to feel safe.” She added one more thing to this train of thought. “This will just be the first time your brain is able to fully experience it. . . because you’re actually giving yourself the permission to do so.”

She held her hands out, palms up, and you took the hint and placed your hands in hers. As you would have guessed, her hands were soft as silk, matching the rest of her fairy-like aura. She squeezed once, lightly before continuing, “Now, I will be there the whole time, watching you, to monitor if you are doing alright. Sometimes you can sense it and get out, and other times it’s a little bit trickier. I will watch your eyes and the way your muscles tense, to gauge how I believe you’re feeling. Your body language will speak the words you may not be able to. This is an incredibly intricate form of therapy that we will wade through together. You will never be alone.”

She grinned, and you did the same. The way she explained these things to you was so assuaging. Were you scared? Hell yes. Of course you were scared. You were about to experience events that had become so dark and secreted in your mind, that they’d left you deep, lasting trauma. . . for a second time.

The re-experiencing aspect was daunting. But. . . you weren’t intimidated. You felt strong to withstand what was to come from your mind. There was the sense that you could overcome the darkness that was buried–some forgotten, some not–in your mind. . . especially if Gia was there to help you through it.

She let go of your hands after giving one more reassuring press. Then she was wheeling back to her desk.

“How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?” Gia asked, grabbing a round, average size cloth, zipped bag off of her desk and placing it in her lap. 

“I’m honestly feeling very much at ease right now. And, yes,” you replied honestly. You pressed your hands into the cool leather of the couch you were sitting on, your hands sinking into the ideally aged material. “I love your couch.”

“That’s good,” she smiled, full lips stretching over her white teeth. “Now, I want you to do a few calming exercises with me. We will start with deep breaths, then we will practice a few eye movement exercises. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you responded readily. “I would love to begin whenever.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” you replied, brows fixed and eyes serious. “The sooner I can heal from this, myself, the sooner I’ll be healed for my baby. I’m ready.”

She raised a perfectly trimmed, coffee-colored brow. “You’re incredible, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, but thanked her nonetheless. You weren’t incredible. Your baby was, and he or she was why you were doing this. The baby was your push, without even being born yet–the baby was the powerful one. 

Gia had you complete a variation of calming breathing exercises to center yourself. And after those, you completed eye movement exercises for the first time in your entire life. It was . . . odd, yet equally nice.

“Your body is loosening. You’re letting yourself transcend–easing your mind,” she said, voice airy and light. Your form felt just as light as her tone. “Now, open your eyes. We’ll do a shortened version of those techniques right before we begin. 

Your eyes slowly opened back to reality to see her unzipping the round black case she’d been holding in her lap. When she opened it, the contents of it were brand new to you. You’d never really seen a thing like the devices she was moving to hold in her hands. She pulled out two little black devices that were attached to a chord plugged into a slightly larger black box. This one, though, had knobs and buttons decorating the front of it. Your curiosity was growing by the second.

She wheeled her chair over to you once more, holding the black gadgets in each hand.

“These are tactical paddles,” she said, motioning for you to take them. When you did, she turned a knob on the black box she was still holding, sending a full vibration to the ones in your hands. “They’re buzzers that will help activate both sides of your brain during the session.”

They were buzzing one by one as you held them in the middle of your palms. You couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination, but you swore you felt each side of your brain moving right along with them. She scooted back a bit, giving you space to experience the feeling. She adjusted the knob just slightly once she’d moved away and you felt their vibrations speed up a little. 

“Do they feel okay?” She asked, situating the frames of her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s strange,” you said without thinking. “It’s very comfortable to hold them. . . but that is part of why it’s strange.”

Gia loosely giggled at that and reassured you that that reaction was more than typical and that she always considered that particular combination of feelings a good place to begin.  

After completing the body relaxation practices once more, you were being guided by Gia. “Relax your body. Lean back. Lay back. Whatever feels best for you.” With the last word, she adjusted the paddles down to a more neutral setting. Your hands felt tingly in a weird, yet contented way.

“Bring to mind the intention that you are practicing feeling safe when you actually are safe,” she softly said, soothing. “One of the best ways to evoke this feeling of safety is to imagine being in a place that you might really enjoy being–wherever you may feel naturally safe, peaceful, and/or calm.” She paused briefly, the paddles changed speed as your head started to become light. “It can be a real place or a place that you’ve come to imagine in your mind on instinct. This is the place you travel at the idea of feeling serene.”

You breathed an ‘okay’ in response, but focused more on the way the instruments in your hands were aiding in sending you somewhere. You felt the atmosphere of your mind slowly changing–equally present and not.

The word Gia had earlier used. . .’transcend.’ It was the perfect word because you currently were completely, wholly transcendent.

“I’m right here,” Gia quietly, gently reminded you, as the blackness behind your eyes took hold, becoming the only thing your five senses could grasp, aside from the sound of Gia’s gentle guidance. “You are doing great.”

You felt the instantaneous feeling of a light breeze brush your face. It pushed you back, but you also felt the feeling of your body keeping still. There were two places. Reality: Gia’s office. And somewhere completely unknown. . . You were somewhere new. 

This wasn’t a place you’d ever been before. The barely-there sounds of birds chirping in trees within a forest that guarded you, on all sides, reverberated off the walls of your mind. The sounds, the breeze– they helped you find your footing. And suddenly, your feet were bare against the partially warm, partially cool feeling of damp dirt. Rain had recently come to this place. You could smell the rain. But every crevice of your mind knew it wasn’t raining anymore. No, you knew that the moment you opened your eyes, you’d find a light, clear blue sky, maybe a couple wisps of clouds painting against the beautifully blank canvas of azure. But you weren’t opening your eyes yet. You focused on everything else taking shape around you. 

The paddles continued to transfer varying speeds between your palms, but it was the last thing on your mind. They were the guide that you knew to follow, but didn’t have to concentrate on. 

Your nose tuned in to the smell of flowers around you. . . All kinds, but there was a particular plant infiltrating your mind the most. . . Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to place it until you opened your eyes. It was strange because you knew the smell, but your lack of sight was keeping the name of the flower hidden. 

Other things were hidden with your eyes still closed, but you kind of enjoyed the blank space. 

This season. . . the most wonderful tiny person was bound to grace the world in this season. Spring. It was springtime. You knew that much. Once your mind realized the season you were placed in, your eyes opened a little more to the scene around you. 

Lavender. An entire field of the wonderfully fragrant plant, surrounding you with its calming notes. And it was beautiful. Never in your whole life had you been in such a beautiful space, yet your mind had no problem creating it for you. 

“Tell me what you see, but keep your eyes closed for me,” you heard Gia’s voice, although it sounded a hundred miles away. It was hushed, distant, like you were hearing her through a tunnel–only an echo in your mind. It was strange. Your physical form was still seated on the comfy couch, but you were standing amongst the most lovely sea of lavender. 

“I’m. . .I’m not really sure where I am,” you whispered, feeling like raising your voice would disturb the serenity of this place you’d stumbled upon. “I’ve never been here before. It’s–it’s incredible.”

Much like Gia’s, your own voice felt muted in your head. But, unlike her, you were standing in the middle of a narrow tunnel, whereas she was at the end. You were traveling somewhere. Obviously.

“That’s okay,” she tells you. You suddenly felt the paddles quicken ever so gently in their pace, but they felt good. Comforting. Real. “Just tell me everything you’re seeing right now.”

“Lavender. . .A field of lavender. A forest surrounding me. Blue sky. . .,” You couldn’t feel much of saying the word lavender. “So much of it. I could just lay in it, let it surround me.” 

“So you’re outside– good. What else do you see? Is there any wildlife?” The echo of her voice became even more distant as you began walking around, searching for whatever else was there with you. 

Deer. A whole family across the field, taking nourishment from the flowers and emerald green grass. They weren’t like normal deer, though. They didn’t run from you as you approached them. They weren’t scared, they just existed peacefully within this place. Then, you heard the birds begin chirping again, as if on queue. 

“Birds are singing. . . There are deer,” you felt yourself telling her, still in amazement with your next words. “They’re really beautiful. And they’re not afraid of me. . .? I can almost touch them.” 

This was entirely unreal, yet all too real all at once. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever believe your mind was capable of this. Yet, there you were, witnessing the most alluring scene that you were sure didn’t physically exist anywhere on earth. Only in your mind. Safely in your mind. No one could destroy it, no one could infiltrate it. It was all yours.

“That sounds wonderful, y/n. Let's focus on a few other senses. Tell me what you smell,” Gia’s sweet voice sounded as if it was coming from the sky, from the wind. It was all around you, yet so far away. 

You felt your present body take a deep breath through your nose, trying to get the best whiff you could of everything surrounding your psyche. 

“I smell the lavender. It’s overwhelming, but in the best way. God it. . .It smells so good. So. . . Fresh. It’s newly bloomed. And I can smell rain. It’s not raining now but it was.”

“Good,” Gia softy said. “What can you touch? Tell me what it feels like.” 

You reached down to run your fingers over a spray of the dark violet flowers, their scent became even more powerful as you lightly ruffled them. 

“I’m touching the lavender,” you told her. “The buds are so soft, so light to touch. They feel delicate, but I know they won’t break. They’re sturdy. But they aren’t stiff.” 

Aside from the way they felt against your hands, they also emitted a feeling of pure peace. Of tranquility. A good, clean energy unlike anything you’d ever felt. 

“I can almost feel them too, y/n.” You heard her giggle quietly across the field. “What are you  doing? Are you standing, sitting?”

You then felt the urge to lie down. So, you did. Your body felt weightless in your mind as you let yourself fall backward, landing softly amidst the blooms. It felt like the most comfortable bed you’d ever laid in. But before you answered her, you felt your hands within your mind reach down to your tummy. You had to know if your sweet baby was there with you. 

And as you laid your palm gently over your tiny bump, you felt it. Your baby was with you, safely tucked away in the most calm place you’d ever known. It only made sense that your physical form of comfort found its way to your mental one, too. Feeling your bump here made you feel. . .complete. Although, there was still something missing. You didn’t know what, but you felt it. But at that moment, your baby was all you needed. 

Or so you thought. 

Because when you let yourself sit up from where you’d laid in the magnificent, flourishing field of flowers, you finally felt complete because the last person you needed had arrived. 

He was standing across from you, on the opposite side of the field. His long, wavy chestnut locks, flowing just the slightest bit in the breeze of the dreamy spring day. He wore a blue suit. A dark blue, three-piece suit with a dark blue shirt underneath it all to match. 

He was so handsome. Beyond stunning. The most immaculately created person. . .

He didn’t stay there for long before he was making his way toward you, striding as he naturally did. His walk, so smooth and sexy–always. 

As he came closer, you were learning that, in this realm, time moved just a tad bit different than normal. He seemed to make it over to you in less than a minute, even from the other end of the expansive field of light purple. 

Then, he was right beside you, lying down next to where you still sat next to him. He’d placed his left arm behind his head, to balance and lift himself a little. And, his left arm, spread out, ready for you to lay beside him. Lay with him. 

He didn’t say anything, but you knew that was what he wanted. You’d laid this way with him a million times before.

So, you moved to lay with him in a way that felt like coming home. You laid back, so comfortably relaxing your tired muscles as you placed a hand on his chest, and one side of your face against it. Curling your body into his, you laid one leg over his, your body facing toward him. Your bump was pressed snugly and safely against the side of his abdomen. Safe. 

Everything was safe here. Truly was the safest place your mind could conjure. You felt his steady breaths against the top of your head as you looked out past him, to the side of the field. Where the birds still chirped in the trees and the deer still meandered. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice equal with the breeze–quiet, calm. His breaths hit your head with each word, he was so near. . . but his words also echoed amongst the trees, all around you. 

Then, it was Gia’s voice you heard whisper through the trees. 

“You’ve found it, haven’t you? Your safe place,” she questioned knowingly, her tone lilted with excitement for you. 

Had you? 

Before you could consider it any longer, his hand came up to rest against your head, brushing so delicately through your loose strands of hair. Your body hummed, feeling one with the wind as he held you. Protected you. Stayed with you. Your body was telling you your answer in your curated fantasy, communicating it to your concrete form as you uttered it aloud.

“Yes,” you sighed, your body on the couch and still in Jake’s arms. You were vividly existing in your imagination and in reality all at once. This feeling would take some getting used to. While you were in shock, you were also not shocked at all. “Y-yes, I’ve found it.”

Jake . . . was he–? 

The lavender was glorious and the field you laid in, the soft ground, was better than any bed you’d ever graced. . . The deer were exquisite and lovely. The song of the birds, sounding like mystical, heavenly hymns. . . The sound of the trees brushing together in the warm breeze of the cool spring day, making their own music, and better than any white noise you’d ever experienced.

But Jake. . . None of those things even came close to the way you felt in his arms. The way you felt light as air and at ease the moment he’d graced your presence. You’d felt your peace and the baby’s when he’d graced the scene. Still did, as you melted into him, his breaths, his heartbeat, helping you feel free and firmly planted, one with all living things–all at once. There was no question that it was him. 

Jake was your safe place.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Now, I want you to make sure you’re finding quiet time to locate your safe place,” Gia advised, getting up from her rolling chair as soon as you’d risen from the couch. “It’s essential to practice before the sessions. You want it to be an easy place to locate during the really hard resurgence of memories,” she coached you, pushing her chair to her desk. 

“Got it,” you agreed, head still swimming a little as you steadily came back to reality. The prospect of traveling to that place in your spare time was a little intimidating. . . But also very exciting. 

Seeing Jake so vividly in such a serene atmosphere on a regular basis sounded like paradise. You could definitely find time to practice that. 

“If you’re not opposed, I would maybe find someone to drive you to your sessions,” Gia suggested, going to clean the paddles with a spray and microfiber towel. You tuned back in, alertness settling in. “These sessions,” she made eye contact with you after bending over to grab her tube of Clorox wipes. “They are bound to be–no, they will be incredibly intense,” she used a towel she’d retrieved from the container to wipe it down. “Just someone you can trust to be there for you afterwards. . . so you’re not alone when you’re coming down from these memories that will present themselves again.”

Still smelling hints of lavender and feeling the warmth of a chest beneath you in some other heavenly reality, you knew who you’d pick. Was it a crazy idea? What did Gia think? Would she tell you her opinion or would you be forced to figure this out on your own? You didn’t want to seem crazy . . . . or weird.

You had just found your voice to respond when she started speaking again.

“Who do you think would be the best–?”

“I actually have an idea of who–.”

The way your chest bubbled with laughter alongside her was wonderful. It felt like the most genuine giggle you’d ever exuded. You truly felt like you were in a sphere of incomparable serenity. The way your body felt. . . you felt complete. You felt self-assured. Still smiling, you raised a brow and motioned one hand to emphasize that she should continue with her train of thought. Your other hand safely held your belly, right where your baby was resting in its safe cocoon. 

“You might not like it,” she grinned. 

Instantly, you knew who she was talking about. 

Gia sighed, settling the paddles securely back in their zipped black bag. Her eyes found yours, testing the waters. Then she offered her opinion in a firm tone, “Jake would be ideal. He would be my option,” she winked, encouraging.

Your chest exhaled in relief. You weren’t crazy. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Gia had sensed your unsureness as she walked you to the front desk. She was taller than you with a sort of swagger in her trendy set of corduroy overalls. 

Nerves were wracking you, sweat already pricking in your armpits. You’d voiced your concerns to her in her office to which she’d told you to follow her.So, you had.

And when you made it to the front ‘desk’ (a tall counter with a window in front of it), you linked your hands under your belly with a sigh. Gia stopped at the counter and leaned on the heavy, light gray granite–opposite of where you stood on your way to the door. She leveled you with a stare, her fingers tapping against the expensive granite. 

“I’m just going to tell you this,” she sighed, a tiny little grin on her full lips. “Be confident. Have confidence. You can do it. Just try it out. Seriously. All you have to do is give it a try. I see it in you, y/n,” she firmly stated. Then, she got even more serious with a furrow in her dark brown brow. “Let. Him. Care, y/n. Don’t you dare work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, when you got home, you somehow found it in you to take Gia’s advice . . . and you immediately went to talk to Jake. The more you contemplated it on the drive home, you realized you weren’t really too nervous to ask him anymore. . .

The nerves had dissipated little by little as you’d rehashed your time in your safe place. How seamless things had been there. . . it felt like before. Like normal. . . and even though it wasn’t your normal anymore, you were clinging to it. It was giving you courage. And the fact that Jake was literally your safe place was giving you courage. 

Yeah, he made you nervous because he was Jake, but he also eased you so effortlessly because he was Jake. He was safe. 

He wasn’t perfect, no. But, he was someone who was permanently, preciously ingrained in your heart. Today had officially proved that. And you were carrying the sweetest little piece of him. . . that helped the nerves for sure. There was a piece of him that was always with you. And now that he knew about said precious baby, things genuinely seemed to be normal between the two of you again. . . as normal as could be at the current time.

It had you knocking on his bedroom door. 

It dawned on you as you delivered the knock that you hadn’t even thought of checking his parking space to see if he was home.  You’d been too anxious to see him and ask him what you had been encouraged to ask. . . .Before you lost the magic courage. Because, yes, let’s be real, he still made you nervous as hell. He was Jake.

It was all confusing and weird. As you stood there, waiting for longer than you’d planned, you realized he might not even be home. You could be standing here waiting for nothing. Or worse, Maya was in there with him or some shit and you were going to open the door to–.

Jake.

The door had opened to show a very sleepy, very effortlessly handsome Jake. His hair was all tousled like he’d been in a deep slumber. And when you looked past him, his bed was a mess from a nap. . .but no curvy, beautiful woman occupied it. 

The only thing you saw laying in the bed was a book, right next to the fluffed pillow where his head had been resting. It was open, laying face down with several sticky notes peeking out of the pages. And all that you could make out was a picture of a pregnant woman on the cover and the word ‘Expecting’ on the cover before your attention was brought back to him talking.

“Y/n?. . . You okay?” He was talking, voice patient and calm, but sounding as though he’d said the words a time or two before you’d come back to. 

You were quick to cover your ass to hide that you had been spying in his room. 

“Sorry,” you shook your head, looking down and clasping your hands under your tummy subconsciously. His eyes followed your hands, a little smile forming on his lips. You continued, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

His eyes opened, as if waiting for what you wanted to ask. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What’s that?”

You cleared your throat, suddenly a little nervous, but suddenly worked to picture him in the field of lavender. And then you were okay again. He was Jake. He was safe. “I–,” you glanced down, then back up to his kind, tired eyes. Just say it, y/n. “Would you mind going to a few of my therapy appointments with me?”

“Yes,” he replied, without any hesitation whatsoever. “Of course. Special ones or. . .?”

“All of them,” you blurted, needing to clear it up. Honesty. Just be honest. Don’t fear his reaction. He’s Jake. 

Eyebrows wrinkled, his lip quirked. “All of them. . .? Like, all of the special ones or–?”

“All of the appointments. Any of the appointments I have that you can make it to. I just need someone safe to go with me,” you rushed out. 

He blinked a few times, a gentle shake of his head before his eyes got sincere and a smile spread over his pretty lips. “And you chose me?”

“Yes,” you simply answered, not trusting yourself to say anything more. There was a definite part of you still reeling from today’s session and seeing him when you imagined somewhere safe. 

Standing there for a few seconds, you could tell he had a million questions floating through his mind. And, knowing him, you knew he was probably wondering why you hadn’t chosen Josh. And, to be totally truthful, you hadn’t once thought of Josh at the prospect of someone safe being there with you to see you through after the sessions. 

Jake seemed to be the only valid option. The only person you wanted to go with you. Even if Elsie were still living here, totally accessible and available, you knew Jake still would’ve been your first choice. The therapy had been his idea. He had asked you how it was going. He was someone you trusted to talk to, and he was someone invested in this with you. And he was him.

“I’d love that,” he responded softly. “When are the appointments?”

He’d love it? Your heart was thumping in your chest at the words. Absently, you thought of your poor heart monitor, and how it was going to be picking up some crazy data due to this man. 

“Every Monday,” you quietly responded. Then, you thought, before getting your hopes up, you’d better tell him what he was really in for. . . because he might end up eating his words once he found out his job in it all. “You’ll just have to wait for me. You could run an errand or two or whatever while I’m in my hour-long sessions. . . and sometimes they might go over.” He nodded, seeming fine with that. You were shocked. Didn’t know why you were shocked because he was naturally so thoughtful. You knew this. “And then, you’ll have to be there afterwards. And I might be emotional. This form of therapy is intense,” you explained. Then, you thought . . . “Well, you probably already know that because you. . .”

“Found it,” he finished, eyes twinkling. “I’d still love to go. You’re not going to scare me away from it. I know you’re afraid of that.”

Why the fuck did he even care to read you like a damned book? Surely your thought processes didn’t matter that much to him. But, you remembered his voice, reassuring you after Applebee’s. Cleaning up some toxic thoughts you’d let form.

“. . .I didn’t stop caring about you . . .” 

“. . .Just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you . . . It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”

Then, it was Gia’s voice. What she’d told you that day. . .just before you’d left.

“Let him care, y/n. Don’t work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

Let him care. 

You decided to just continue on with the only reasonable response, eyes, filling with tears, trained on your fidgeting feet. “Thank you,” the words came out as a whisper. But you shook your head. Confidence. Looking up, you tried again, smiling with your eyes. “Thank you.”

His eyes held yours for a moment. He just let his eyes sink into yours. . .like he’d done so many times before. Just as he had in times past, he was letting himself read you. You could tell. 

Not able to help it, your cheeks filled with heat at his stare. Your heart picked up speed. You had to speak again. Break the quietness. The calmness in his observant, knowing irises was too much.  

“Will Maya be okay with it?” 

Why you chose to break the ice with her, you didn’t know. Probably to get his mind off of you and back on her. Where you knew he wanted it to be. He might have still cared for you, but she was the woman he loved. To him, you were sure that she mattered in this just as much as you did.

He shut his eyes once briefly, and with a shake of his head, he was back. His eyebrows dipped, pursed his lips with a curt nod. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure,” he assured. He tightened his fingers against his biceps. You couldn’t help but watch his strong hand flex. “I’ll–um, I’ll just tell her when the appointments are so she knows I’m not available on those days.”

Shit. You didn’t want to take him away from her. You hadn’t even thought of that. That would definitely be selfish. And not available on those days? Like, not available at all? Was he planning on spending entire Mondays with you?

Hurriedly, you offered a response to make sure to clear the air. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think of you having to–,” you groaned. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go with me if it’s going to interrupt your plans with her.”

His brows wrinkled. “I never said that.”

“It was implied,” you defended your thought process. 

“No, it wasn’t.”

You were suddenly irritated that he wasn’t understanding why you felt bad. “I just don’t want to be selfish, Jake. That’s all I’m saying. God.”

He rolled his eyes, hands getting stuffed in the pockets of the sweatpants he was wearing. You just realized how low they hung on his hips. You could see the very bottom of his stomach with the way he’d cut his t-shirt, just above the hip bones. You flicked your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. And, again, your face was hot. 

“I was literally saying I want to be there for you and I need to tell her that’s what I’m doing on those days,” he explained, tone sharp and patient all at once. He was putting his foot down.

You conceded. But. . . it made you think of something. Maybe it was the tan stomach of his skin and how badly you wanted to run your fingers across it. Or perhaps it was the fact that the woman in question might not be privy to one important detail. 

So, you asked. “Does she know I’m pregnant with your baby yet?”

His baby. 

You ignored the thought, instead training your mind on the serious matter at hand: would she be okay with it if she knew you were pregnant with his baby?

“No,” he curtly replied. Then, his tone was entirely calm when he stated, “She won’t know until you give me the okay to tell her. I told you that already.”

Flushing, you found his eyes. You tried your best to match the sincerity in his irises with your own. “Thank you for being considerate of that.”

“Of course,” his lips twitched to a small grin, then fell back to a purse. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

Fuck. You needed to wrap this up. You were wasting his time. But–you had to know. . . 

You cleared your throat, replacing your hands from below your tummy to cross under your boobs. The way his eyes flickered down with the action couldn’t be ignored and it gave you the push to ask. “. . .what does she know about us?”

“She knows you’re my friend and that we’re close because we live together,” he offered.

For some reason, the fact that he’d called you his friend made your heart leap into the bottom of your throat. It made you sort of sad, yet happy at the same time. Sad that you couldn’t be more, but glad that he was willing to call you such a wonderful thing. Did he seriously trust you to be his friend?

“We’re friends?” You shyly pondered. 

Aaand hormones were officially in control of your dialogue. It was time to wrap it up. Quick. You eyed the ground, embarrassed at your lack of control over questions.

But, his response was measured, so sweetly assuring you with his next words. His voice was soft and raspy, “I never wanted to not be your friend.” Then, suddenly, he was touching you. His hand was placed on your cheek, lifting your face gently to look into his eyes. There was no saving the response on the heart monitor data. And the swarm of buzzing butterflies in your tummy. You lost yourself in his gaze. “No matter what happens, you are my friend. I always want to be your friend, honey.” 

Honey. 

Your pulse increased tenfold and you couldn’t help the flutter of your lashes, your eyes watery yet again. 

His hand was still on your cheek, and a warm blush had settled in them when you mumbled, ashamed. “I hate you ditching your girlfriend for me. I don’t want to be selfish.”

A finger smoothed gently on your cheek, just beneath your lashes. “You’re not being selfish. And I’m not ditching her,” he removed his hand, and your heart sputtered a few times, trying to balance all of the emotions transpiring within you. He reached behind him, grabbing the handle of the door and shutting it behind him. When he moved forward with the motion, you stepped back. Didn’t want to risk getting too close. His eyes found yours as he consoled you. “Please quit thinking of it like that. I promised to be there–to help you–you a long time ago, and I intend to keep that promise. Let me.”

You were back in the hallway at your grandparents’ home. He was coming to sit next to you, against their beige, textured walls. The house, smelling like the pie that was baking. Familiar and safe. But the home had been the last thing making you feel safe in that moment. It was the man sitting next to you, telling you to let him help you.

“I want to help you. Let me.”

The same night he’d made the promise to find a therapist for you. Then, you were in his bed that night. . .Your cheek, on his damp chest.

 Tears were falling on his chest, your chest was tight as they kept coming, his skin prickling in their wake. “I–I’m sor–sorry.”

“Why, baby?” His voice settled your nerves. Warm. Soft. Him. 

“I hate that you have to see me cry,” you sniffled, wiping at the tears on his chest. But instead of letting you continue, he’d held your hand there, so you could feel the stable beat of his heart. 

“If crying is what it takes to heal, I’m here to listen to you as you wade through it.”

And, then, again. . . those same words filtered through your memory through a warm haze. 

Laying on top of him, in his bed, as you’d stared deeply into the darkness of his eyes, he’d earnestly spoken to you. “I want to help you. Let me.”

“Okay,” you sighed in the present time, your eyes not containing the pools accumulating in them, a singular tear falling down your cheek. 

Thankfully, it happened when he had decided to go back into his room to get something. And as soon as you’d brushed it away, he was back in front of you and had his phone in his hand. It was open, his fingers above the keyboard to show he was about to start typing. 

“What do you want me to tell her you need me for?” He looked up at you, hands steady around the phone as his eyes waited for you. His eyes, open and willing to help. Willing to understand. “I don’t have to tell her that it’s for therapy.”

“You can tell her it’s for therapy,” you responded. His brow raised, as if to ask ‘you sure?’, to which you responded, “I’m sure,” you grinned. Then, you continued on with what would be a valid excuse to give her for why you wanted him to go. “Just tell her you have to drive me to the appointments I have on those days because it’s a long drive that I don’t want to take by myself.”

His lips lifted easily, eyes tired, still, but wholly there with you to help. “Okay.”

As he typed, you stood there–so grateful for him. God, he was amazing. You could not believe there was ever a time you’d thought any different. Jake Kiszka. . . he was the man of fucking dreams. You knew he was. And you’d. . . let him go.

But, as you still believed, it was for good reason that you’d cut things off.

It kept lines drawn and clear and simple. Kept him focused on the dream. It just helped. Right?

Once he’d shoved the phone in his pocket and you’d heard the sending noise and the click of the phone going off, you decided to go ahead and let him be. You began walking to your room, and he started walking in the direction of the front of the apartment. Just as you’d opened your door, suddenly very sleepy and sore from your body growing a human, you spoke again. “Thank you, Jake.”

He turned as soon as you’d spoken, his gaze calm and falling on yours gently. His eyes felt like the breeze on a warm, spring day. The same sort of day you’d imagined in your safe place. 

“Don’t thank me,” he started. His phone chimed in his pocket, but he didn’t even reach for it. Instead, he crossed to you once more, your chest heating at him coming close again. And, once more, his hand reached up to delicately hold your face. The callouses that grazed your cheek brought so much comfort. They were familiar and felt like peace. “This is something I want to do. You don’t have to thank me.” 

Your mouth opened to dispute and as soon as you did, he saw it. 

At this, his lips lifted and he held your cheek fully in his palm, eyes boring into yours as he spoke. “Don’t argue with me. I mean every word. And you know it.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Life was finally feeling peaceful again with Jake back in it, and in the know about the baby. Having him as a friend in your life was filling your cup – just the mere knowledge of him being there made you rest easier. Every morning was the same. A comfortable, reassuring sort of same. 

You’d wake up, and lay in your bed for a few minutes, rubbing your belly. Checking the Ovia app to read something new about the baby to start the day, you’d also check the size of the baby on that given week for the 100th time on that given week. After clicking your phone off, you would lay there and ponder your day and everything that you had to do. 

And once your feet touched the ground, you were walking to grab underwear, a maternity bra (because, yes, you’d purchased one with the speed your boobs had grown). Then came the outfit you’d set out the night before. (Even though sometimes, there would be a last minute change in wardrobe due to day-to-day changes in your body – the insecurities were slowly becoming very real, the more your body changed. And even the teeniest, tiniest changes were strikingly obvious to you.) 

The bathroom was your next stop. You’d take off the heart monitor before your shower, brush your teeth, and in the shower, you would glance down at your belly, water washing over it, to reflect on the person inside of it and how he or she was growing. And these days, you spent a lot of time wondering if the baby was a he or she. . . Just as you’d lean towards one guess, you’d lean towards the other. On certain days, you would wash your hair and if it hadn’t been very long, you’d skip that step. 

Once finished with the shower, you’d observe yourself to see if any stretch marks had grown, and at this point, a few had shown up, so a special cream was one the way that would be added to your morning and nightly routine to help prevent those from sticking around. Now, all you did was brush your hair and usually put it in a claw clip to avoid sweating profusely by keeping it against your neck. Then, you’d replace the adhesive of your heart monitor and adjust it to track your heart rate. 

You were so ready to be done with the stupid fucking device. It was a pain for many reasons. . . and you just hated the way it looked on your chest. It was a huge blemish on your changing body. A body that you were already feeling insecure enough about, even without the monitor.

When you’d trail back to your bedroom after your shower, you finished out the routine by taking your prenatals, checking your hemoglobin (which was doing consistently well, relieving you every time you saw the numbers stay positive), and you would pop a PregEase into your mouth to chew. The chewable had helped drastically with your nausea, and you weren’t planning on stopping it any time soon.

Finally, you’d go to the kitchen counter after making a smoothie in your BlendJet, and sit there to sip it as you read through The Panic-Free Pregnancy, taking notes in a notebook you’d purchased solely for baby notes.

And, now, since Jake had found out, he’d greet you in the kitchen or on your way to the bathroom to shower and he’d check on the baby. Check on how you were feeling. It always made you blush with the fact that he cared to check in. It was just really fucking sweet of him. Showed his heart. Of course, it wasn’t for you, it was for the baby. But still. . . it made your heart skip a beat. 

The day before Thanksgiving was no different. Except, this morning, Jake stopped you just as you’d grabbed your backpack and opened the door to leave for school. 

“Hey,” he called out to you. Your phone buzzed in your black LuluLemon, slung across your chest. When you turned, he flashed his phone screen towards you briefly. “Josh just texted in the group chat and asked if it was okay for us to have Friendsgiving here like you usually do. Day after Thanksgiving. Want me to tell him it’s fine?”

“Of course,” you grinned, getting your phone out to see the text for yourself. But, as you did, you also saw you were cutting it close to make it to class on time. Grabbing your keys out of your bag, you quickly responded, opening the door wider, one foot out. “Just tell him yes.”

He began typing as you went to walk out, the Jetta gave its signature beep across the parking lot as you unlocked it. But just as you stepped out, you stopped. Fuck. You’d have to clean the place. 

Normally, it would be no big deal, but you were still working long hours and keeping up with several classes while also being pregnant. . . 

So, you stepped back into the apartment, hand still holding the door open. You glanced up at him, accepting your fate. “I'll probably be cleaning the apartment tonight. I don’t want to have to fight any real baby tiredness on top of any food baby tiredness tomorrow night. I already get sleepy at the end of Thanksgiving Day, and I’m sure it’ll just be worse this year with,” you pointed to your belly. 

His eyes twinkled, but he didn’t say anything. . .probably because you were rambling and he was annoyed by it.

You twisted the knob, needing to leave, but wanting to let him know, “You can find something to do tonight so you don’t have to be around me and my obsessive compulsive cleaning habits.” 

He raised a brow, placing his phone on the counter. “Would it be okay if I helped you clean?”

“Um,” you faltered, nervous of him seeing that cringeworthy side of you. “I get really intense when I clean for special events.”

“I’m sure,” he grinned, winking. Your tummy swarmed with butterflies at the gesture. He continued, “But I still want to help you. Will you let me?”

Let him.

“I get kind of scary.”

“I don’t care.”

You measured him with your eyes, contemplating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t love his help. . . It would be fantastic to have someone help you. You just didn’t want to scare him away. 

You’re having his baby, y/n. Did you scare him away when he found out about that? Or did he want to help you then, too? And what about when he–?

“Sure,” you said, promptly cutting off the voice in your head. “You can help. I’m just warning you. My control issues are bound to go haywire when I deep clean.”

“For good reason,” he defended. “In that circumstance.”

Your lips raising into a soft smile couldn’t be stopped. “Thanks, Jake.”

The soft smile didn’t leave your face as you made the trek to your car. 

Then it all came crashing down when you passed Maya in all of her graceful, voluptuous beauty, right before you got to your car. Your outfit of a giant sweater and loose AE jeans suddenly paled in comparison to her sexy black pencil skirt and tight white button-up shirt. Her perfume, sweet and expensive, wafting off of her in waves as she passed by you with a smile and a quick wave. Then there was you: wearing your Bath and Body Works body spray that you got on sale for $5.95.

Her heels clicked past you as your old white Nikes caught a rock and almost made you trip, eliciting a weird noise from your mouth. Hand on the belly, you caught yourself – not so gracefully. When you looked behind you to see if she’d witnessed it, she was already knocking on the door of the apartment. . .and being greeted with a kiss from Jake. The smile was absolutely wiped off your face at the sight of that.

Of course, your mind traveled to a not-so-fun place as you buckled into your car and went to turn on your soul music playlist. You just sat there, contemplating once more how much it sucked that you couldn’t be with him. It was even more sad with your predicament – it made your heart jump into your throat that you couldn’t complete the natural circle of two parents with a baby.

The song that started off the playlist was perfect for bringing you out of your slump, though. The Commodores singing about being ”High On Sunshine” reminded you of how serene and peaceful you’d felt when you’d woken up. Life was going well. . .Truly, completely well. You didn’t need a relationship with Jake to complete a circle of sorts. . . Really. Especially at this point in your life.

You could be friends – it really wouldn’t be so bad. Just friends. You’d take what you could get. Things would be fine.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t mind you telling her now,” you mentioned that night, packing up a nice dinner he’d made after you’d cleaned the entire apartment. 

He’d made chicken fajitas. 

Considering the meal was a crowd favorite (the crowd being you and the baby), it had been wonderful when you’d found out tonight how damn good he was at making them. Although, saying that you were packing it up into leftover containers with him. . .was a lie. 

You were leaning against the ledge of the counter top, watching him put it in Tupperware. He’d told you to sit and rest your feet and that he would worry about putting it away. Only agreeing halfway, you sure rested but didn’t rest your feet like he’d asked. After quietly accepting the offer with a quiet okay, you nodded your head. Then, you went to stand against the counter. 

“Please. Sit.” He’d encouraged, his voice slightly impatient, already weary with you. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he knew it was no use and that you weren’t going to agree. “You had to go to school and workwork today. You should rest your feet.”

Even though your feet did hurt like hell, you still weren’t about to let him boss you around. 

“Nah, I think I’m good,” you replied, shrugging. You took turns balancing and bouncing between each foot, totally giving you away. “I sit around too much.”

“Y/n.”

“Jake.”

He’d given you a look. And you had stared right back until he gave up and rolled his eyes before going about his business. 

In the present time, he was once again peering at you. But this time, his eye brow was raised in curiosity. “What?” He asked, unsure.

“You can tell Maya if you want,” you repeated, your eyes encouraging. “Tell her that you’re having a baby,” you laughed under your breath at that. A piece of hair fell from its place behind your ear. “Or, I guess, if we’re being technical. . . That I’m having your baby.”

He didn’t laugh along with the funny wording, just continued looking at you like you’d grown three heads. 

“Why?”

You didn’t know. All you knew was that Maya wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So, in order to save Jake some extra stress, he’d better tell her sooner rather than later. That was it. 

“Just want it to be out in the open,” you stated plainly, shrugging once more. “Josh is going to tell Sam and Daniel for me soon. . . Explain all of the nitty gritty details of us so I don’t have to again.”

His face sank momentarily. Though, it didn’t last long enough for you to be sure if it wasn’t something you’d imagined.

“On top of that, I’m telling my grandparents tomorrow, so you just go ahead and tell her,” you explained further, trying to convince him it was okay.

He blinked a few times, probably processing it all. And then he responded.

“Okay,” he finally said, lips making a lopsided grin, eyes still containing a sense of curiosity.

“Okay,” you echoed, suddenly feeling the reality of him telling her. . . the reality of Josh telling Sammy and Danny. . .

It was about to be out in the open. Everyone was about to know. Not counting the doctors or Gia, a tiny total of four people in your life knew. Only four. You, Elsie, Josh, and Jake. And now, that number was about to increase. And with your permission, no less. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 24, 2022

You were on your way to your grandparents’ house, Elsie being your chauffeur when you filled her in on all of the therapy appointments (though, not the person secured in your safe place), your heart monitor in all of its ridiculous, agonizing glory.

Then, the boys’ careers came up in conversation. The music. The albums. The photoshoots. You even told her about the fan who called Jake hot. And as she was laughing about the fan interaction, and how uncomfy she was sure it made you, you thought to text Jake something that needed to be said. Something you’d believed in with your whole heart since the beginning. His career. 

It was even more important to you now that you were going to have his baby. It had trailed through your mind enough times that you knew you needed to share it with him. 

You, 12:02 p.m.: Please don’t put your career on hold for me or the baby.

It took a few moments, when Elsie was in the middle of telling you that she wasn’t sure how she felt about other girls calling Josh hot. You were absently agreeing on not being sure about it when you got the notification of his response.

Jake, 12:05 p.m.: I won’t. I’ll figure it out. 

And while you were in the middle of having one hard conversation, you decided on another. Something that broke your heart to say, but you believed in it just like you did the other topic. It was going to be awkward to talk about in person, so you were going to be a coward and hide behind the phone to say it.

You, 12:06 p.m.: We also don’t need to be in a relationship.

After sending it, you instantly realized the perspiration that had gathered on your palms. Instead of talking to Elsie, you just stared at your phone. After finding out, he’d turned his read receipts on, so you were able to see the moment he’d seen the message. 

While cleaning the night before, you’d asked him about it and his response was that he had done it so there weren’t any holes in your communication about baby-related things.

Jake, 12:08 p.m.: Never said we did. I don’t need that.

I don’t need that.

Translated, you knew it was a way of saying it would cause unnecessary stress. And you’d be remiss to ignore that the stress would most definitely result from you and your stupid emotional instability. And that thought just reminded you that the baby was the most important person to work on being emotionally stable for–not its father. 

Nonetheless, his response hurt way more than it should have. It cut fucking deep. For no reason whatsoever, because you knew he had a point. You believed the same as he did. Your previous text said as much. You just had to think logically. 

Jake, 12:09 p.m.: 1, I’m already in a relationship

Jake, 12:09 p.m.: and 2, it’ll be easier for us because we won’t have to worry about a relationship. It’s good that we’re just friends.

He was right. He made sense. You knew it. It was good to be just friends.

You, 12:10 p.m.: You are very right. I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Jake, 12:10 p.m.: and as far as touring and the band goes, we can figure out how to handle a baby in all of it. We’ll just work in a few more breaks or something

Jake, 12:11 p.m.: don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine. 

Jake, 12:11 p.m.: and by “we” I mean you, me and the baby

Right as you’d pulled up to your grandparents’ home, you sent him a final text about it. If you were being totally honest, the conversation made you feel sick to your stomach and you just wanted to focus on the fact that it was Thanksgiving. 

There was also the fact that you were more than just a little nervous about rocking your grandparents’ entire world. 

You, 12:22 p.m.: Thank you for talking to me about this. We can talk about it more at some other point. Have a good Thanksgiving!

Instantly, he read it. But it took him a bit to respond. You knew he was busy with family and Maya. And again, your stomach was knotted at another thought. Her. Them. Dream couple.

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: for sure. We’ll find time :) 

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: happy thanksgiving, y/n. I’m thankful for you. I really hope you know that.

With that last text, your heart sped up, your monitor phone beeping repeatedly in your belt bag to notify you of it. As if you couldn’t already feel the way your heart was about to literally beat out of your chest at his words. You grumpily unzipped your bag to get it out, locking your phone on your lap.

“Holy shit, dude,” Elsie exclaimed as she shut off the car. “Are you okay?! What’s happening?!”

You reassured her that it was just your monitor telling you your heart rate had gone up. But you made an excuse for why. Didn’t want her on your ass.

“I’m just really nervous to tell Grandma and Grandpa,” you lied.

You didn’t have to wait long for it to stop beeping. Thank God. It was annoying as hell, calling you out when you did not want to be called out. Finally, it turned off, though.

Elsie’s eyes became sympathetic, her delicate hand coming out to squeeze your sweater-clad arm. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be there the whole time. Deep breaths,” she calmly assured, taking a few with you. “And they’ll honestly just be really excited. Grandma, immediately. . . but Grandpa. . .”

“. . .Might take him a while,” you finished.

Your Grandma wasn’t necessarily your greatest worry, but she had been known to judge a time or two. . . Your Grandpa on the other hand. . . he was in a constant state of disappointment. All in all, you really had no fucking clue what to expect. Within seconds, the two of you were busting up at the thought. He was a pain in the ass. The definition of a crotchety old man. Laughing with Elsie was therapeutic. And this laughter in particular was incredibly necessary.

She waited for you to feel calm enough to go inside, and once you did, you got out to follow Elsie to the door. You never responded to the text. Didn’t even react to it with an exclamation, thumb, or heart. You didn’t want to mess anything up. 

So, you just let it be your last positive push before going inside your grandparents’. Because, while it hadn’t been the reason to make your monitor go batshit crazy, it was still incredibly nerve wracking to tell the people that raised you. The idea of telling them that you were pregnant by a man you weren’t in a relationship with. . . yeah.

You closed your eyes momentarily to locate your Safe Place. You’d gotten quite good at finding it. All you had to do was close your eyes and call it. But as Elsie unlocked the door to let the two of you in, the present time was unkindly welcoming you back in with anxious arms. 

Deep. Fucking. Breaths.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanksgiving was one of your favorite holidays. Christmas was your absolute favorite, but Thanksgiving was right up there, just behind it. 

For one, it meant your whole family got to be together for a holiday, and you loved getting to spend time with your family. It felt more special than just about anything else. . . and Thanksgiving was so great because it was just a day where you sat around, eating food, being with each other, talking and laughing. It was a holiday meant to force you to ruminate on why you were thankful for each other– a holiday that was designed to bring out the best in a person.

The hope that your grandparents would only have love in their hearts when they heard your news was the only thing that had pulled you and your nerves through the doorway. The same doorway you’d entered through a million and one times before. Except this time, someone else was entering with you. Your hand touched subconsciously to your rounded belly. There was nothing you could do about your predicament now, so you could only hope for the best responses they could muster.

As you walked in, the smell of your Grandma’s ever-famous smoked turkey flooded your senses, momentarily calming you. It reminded you of the main reason Thanksgiving and Christmas were your favorite holidays. They’d been that way for years–as long as you could remember. Her turkey was an absolute favorite of yours dating all the way back to your childhood. Cooking was her love language, and you first learned that before you ever went to live with your grandparents. You could remember loving it and finding solace in the taste of her full, home cooked meal on the rare occasion that your mom decided to celebrate the holidays with her parents. 

The taste and aroma of your Grandmother’s food represented peace for you–especially her holiday food. Holidays were special because they were the only time you were ever able to escape your mother and the now-hazy situations she’d put you in for the first ten years of your life. And then, when you’d gone to live with them, you’d finally found safety and security. . . The taste of her food had just continued its pattern of bringing you the feeling of comfort.

The times your mom would tote you and Elsie over state lines to see them were always very special. They were bittersweet memories for you. It was the only way you’d been able to see your grandparents then, as she never made them privy to your changing living locations. The three of you were always on the move. Never in one place for too long. But every home was dirtier than the last, a new man who would occupy it, as if anxiously anticipating your arrival.

You shook your head at those times–didn’t want to think about it for too long. Those thoughts led down dangerous, terrifying, dark paths that you didn’t want to experience on a day like today. Those times were the ones you’d explore in EMDR with a licensed professional at the ready to help guide you. 

You’d decided years ago that you weren’t going to venture down those paths alone. Didn’t want to bother Elsie, so instead, you’d instead pushed the memories away to near nonexistence. And. . . today was not the day you planned to change that. You wanted Gia with you for that, thank you very much. 

As you walked closer to the kitchen, you heard the sounds of your grandparents’ laughter, sounding so much like you were used to. . . You could only hope and pray to everything that it would continue on as normal—as normal as it could be—after they found out your big news. 

The warm hugs and expressions of joy that greeted you as the two of you rounded the corner were both a reassurance and an added stressor to your shaky nerves. You really didn’t want to shake their world too much. . . Didn’t want this to change. This was your first true home. They were your first people.

The people who took you and your sister in when you had no one else, the ones who raised you, showed you love when it felt your entire world lacked it. You couldn’t quite rid the apprehension to tell them. You would not be able to until the news officially left your mouth. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I’m pregnant.”

The sound of forks clinking against plates and the deafening sound of silence surrounded the entire dining room. You weren’t sure where the fuck it had come from–why you’d chosen to say it when you did. . . but there was no doubt it was out now. No questions were asked. Not yet. All eyes in the room, trained on you. Everyone sat still, totally unmoving and in total shock. 

Thankfully, only a few moments of it had to pass before your sister broke the silence. She was trying to buy some peace for you. Just as much as you, she was not a fan of awkward silence or tension.

“I, for one, am so, so excited,” Elsie beamed, looking back and forth between your grandparents, whose mouths were still clamped shut. “It’s going to be wonderful–the sweetest addition to this family!”

After only a few seconds of Elsie’s attempt to ease the air, your Grandma started blinking and you soon realized that she was blinking back tears. Oh no. . . was she upset? Disappointed? The woman who raised you so well – loved you better than anyone ever had before, who took you in when no one else wanted you. . . She didn’t need to sit there feeling any negative emotions only because of your careless decision. Just like she’d done for you, you needed to comfort her in this moment of unclarity. 

You went to rise from your seat, beginning an explanation you weren’t quite sure of yet once you were standing. “Grandma, I–.”

“Babygirl!” Your Grandmother exclaimed, bursting into tears. And before you could make it from where you stood beside your floral padded chair, she was walking to you – as fast as her frail legs could carry her. Even though you watched her every move, the feeling of her arms wrapping around you came before you expected it to. “We couldn’t be happier. I don’t even have to look at your Grandfather to know he’s as ecstatic as me. I know he loves you just like I do,” she sighed, squeezing you gently. Her shaky, familiar voice spoke softly in your ear, “A baby is the greatest gift – especially if it’s one of my babies’ babies.”

You blinked back all of the emotion that nestled comfortably into your bones. The distinct, wistfully familiar notes of Chanel No. 5 wrapped around you as tight as her arms. And, suddenly, the scent had you back in a mirage of memories where she was holding you just the same. 

The first time a boy had broken your heart at thirteen years old. When you fell off your bike the month after you moved in with them, crying more over your mother than the bike wreck. Anytime you and Elsie got into some asinine bickering match that only your Grandmother could settle. . . So many times she’d held you just like this. Except this time, you felt it differently, gripped closer to her, not ready to let go. . . you’d needed this so badly. Hadn’t even realized just how badly you needed to feel her hold you after finding this out. 

You sniffed, finally letting yourself part from her. She wasn’t going to be the first to let go, so you made the move. “Grandma,” you looked directly into her eyes, getting lost in the aging, watery icy blue irises. “Your approval – and Grandpa’s,” you glanced at him briefly, a small smile on his face as he watched you. Your heart leapt. “It meant more to me than anyone else’s.” 

Elsie huffed and made a noise. Your Grandma giggled at Elsie’s indignance. You rolled your eyes, turning to your sister for a split second to give her a look, then faced the aging woman once more. “Almost anyone else’s. I was just scared to let you down, although I. . .,” you paused momentarily, blinking back tears as her perfume infiltrated your senses once more as she pushed some hair delicately behind your ear. “I should have known better than that.”

“My precious babygirl, there is nothing you could ever do that would make us think less of you,” she insisted, bringing her hand down to your arm, softly soothing circles into your flesh through your sweater. “Not only have we told you that your entire life, but I could only hope we have been able to show it to you. Just how much you mean and how we are always on your side – no matter what.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The rest of the dinner and dessert went on about the same, with your Grandpa actually receiving the news very well–only grumbling slightly at the idea of the father not being around.

To which Elsie had quickly defended with a correction, pointed straight at your Grandfather, her eyes glued to him. “Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, Grandpa.”

You’d joined in, too, not wanting her to have to approach that on her own. It wasn’t her responsibility to have to make any reassurances for your mindless decision. 

“He is in the picture, Grandpa,” you assured, swallowing your bite of pumpkin pie. Your eyes linked with his, begging him to understand. “I never said he wasn’t. I only said that I didn’t want to tell you who he is yet.”

After that, he’d simmered down on the father subject enough for dessert to finish up. And, as Elsie and your Grandma went to put away leftovers, you led the way to the living room to set up A Christmas Story. It was a Thanksgiving tradition to watch it after stuffing your faces to the point of exhaustion. 

Just as you’d gotten the movie queued up, you heard his telling sigh behind you. His years-old maroon, fabric recliner, moaning with the sudden weight of a person. You gave him the slightest smile, still unsure of how to act around him as he’d been supportive, just quiet about it. 

His reaction could definitely be expected, but you didn’t want it. You just wanted him to not act crotchety, just this once. Problem was, you were kind of stuck on what to say. So, instead of saying anything to initiate conversation, you sat on your phone, checking Instagram stories. 

So many fucking coupley photos with the most generic captions. But, to your complete relief, nothing had yet been posted by Jake or Maya (yes, you followed her now–for no other reason but to torture yourself). Just as you were about to check your Ovia app for the second time that day, you heard your Grandpa clear his throat. 

You just acted oblivious, though, not wanting to look up unless he actually wanted to talk. Didn’t want to push him or anything. . . poke the bear. 

“Sugarplum,” he started, using the nickname he’d penned for you years ago. 

Your heart lightened at the nickname. Anytime he used it, you knew he was about to say something sweet and slightly outside of his comfort zone. And by that, it meant he was going to say something particularly tender and sweet. Two things he was not used to being. . . Save for the heart he’d had when he started using the nickname. It had come at a sensitive time. 

The nickname came from a precious tradition. After you’d come to live with them, he’d started the tradition. The man had been determined to make you and your sister feel better, and he’d always been better with actions than words. So, the year your sister and you had come to live with them, he’d started taking you to the Nutcracker. It was a whole thing. 

Every Christmas season, your family of four would get all dolled up (you and Elsie, having had matching Christmas dresses and ringlet curls–hair-sprayed to the point of crunchy– the first couple of years). Then, you’d go eat at Carmine’s before attending a performance of the Nutcracker ballet – always at David H. Koch Theater. 

You weren’t sure what he was about to say, but the nickname always meant it was going to be rather softhearted.

“Sweetie,” he sighed. You looked at him, seeing every wrinkle and age spot on his worn features. His face held every ounce of compassion you were sure he could muster. Your eyes already teary at the cold, snowy memories you’d just re-lived, and seeing him in such a vulnerable state had you gasp just slightly. “I love this baby. I love you. And I am so happy for you–overjoyed,” he said, singing it in the tone of the Stevie Wonder tune. You gasped on another breath, a tear springing from your eye to cheek. “Very, very much so, honey.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but mutter.

“With all my heart I mean it,” he confirmed, eyes crinkling at the edges with a smile in them. “I only get short-tempered about the father because I don’t want to witness the child being abandoned or betrayed by men the way you and Elsie–,” he shook his head, draining a thought he was in the middle of. He grunted, eyes glassy when he looked at you again. “I don’t need this baby’s father being absent like yours was, is all. I get infinitely resentful on the subject of the people who did you and your sister wrong. . . and I just can’t have that for my great-grandchild either.”

There was no response you could possibly give save for the intermittent sniffles that accompanied the tears that wetted your cheeks. So, all you did was nod, a shaky smile on your lips. The man deeply loved you. You knew that. But, it made your heart hurt in a strange way when he’d say things that truly proved it. . . since he so rarely did. The baby must have meant a lot to him already, for him to feel so inclined to bare his heart like this. 

“I love that child and I will protect it in my role as long as I can,” he said, his own voice wobbling on the words. “I promise you, Sugarplum. Just like I did for you and your sister.”

After a couple of moments, you found something to say, out of the mess of emotions hugging your heart. 

“This baby’s father will be nothing like ours,” you said, without a doubt. You barely remembered the man who’d helped make the two of you. He hadn’t ever really been around–a sperm donor at best. “He’s an incredible man. The baby is very lucky to have him.”

The words pinched your chest, your stomach twisting tight on what you’d said. . . Jake was so wonderful. Even if he didn’t want you, he wanted the baby. You knew that. You knew it. You had seen it in his eyes the moment you’d said the baby was his. Jake Kiszka was special and you were glad your baby would be part of him–was already part of him. You were glad the baby had him.

You just weren’t ready to tell your grandparents it was him. . . you didn’t want either of them to unrightfully judge Jake if they were to know. Especially your Grandfather. . . they’d had such an honest, genuine connection. It had been magical to witness. Jake, having been the person to bring the old man out of his shell for the first time in your entire life. 

You knew you had to tell them soon, but it just didn’t feel like the right time quite yet. . . There was so much going on already. The two of them finding out the identity of the baby’s father could wait just a little longer. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You got home around eleven o’clock that night, after taking Elsie to Josh’s. The night had been exactly what your soul needed. Time with your Grandma and Grandpa, as well as a car jam session with Elsie on the way to her boyfriend’s apartment. 

The reason you’d finished so late was because your grandparents hadn’t really wanted the night to end. After sitting through every end credit of A Christmas Story, you’d rented the brand new A Christmas Story Christmas on the Roku TV you’d Christmas-gifted the two elderly people a year ago. 

Although, you hadn’t ended up paying much attention to the movie since your grandparents had been determined to hear all about Elsie’s travels and your current. . . predicament. They had also questioned you about school.

Thankfully, you’d given a few barely-there answers and the conversation had basically concluded on that subject. There hadn’t even been an onslaught of career-based questions. All of the baby-related inquiries had been a good distraction from that. 

They’d even stayed up past their bedtime of nine o’clock, aiming to hear every last detail of your life and Elsie’s. But, there’d come a point that your Grandpa had fallen asleep as he’d tuned out, signaling the end of the evening. 

So, at 11:00, you were finally pulling in to the apartment complex, safe and sound into your designated parking spot. Jake’s car was where he usually parked it, you noticed. But, you already knew he was home. He’d texted about an hour back asking when you’d be home, to which you’d responded with an I don’t know, a little flutter in your tummy as you typed. 

Even though he hadn’t responded, it didn’t crush you. Truly. You were becoming accustomed to your present relationship with him. . . well. . . .at least you were really trying to become accustomed.

On the way up to the apartment, you barely made the last step with how utterly exhausted you were. The act of carrying a child was not easy work and honestly, your grandparents hadn’t been the only ones staying up past their bedtime. You’d kept the heavy-lidded blinking at bay at your childhood home, but as you unlocked the door, you let out a long yawn which felt like it’d been waiting for hours to be released. Because it had been. You hadn’t wanted to be rude while engaging in conversation. Felt so relaxing and the action in and of itself had totally drained you. Your comfy, cozy bed was calling you.

When you entered the apartment, you were assaulted by the wondrous smells of something sweet and sugary–the scent was closely comparable to cake or cupcakes. You almost let your nose drag you to the source, but when you looked into the kitchen on your trek to your bedroom, you hastily decided against that idea. And you suddenly felt like you were going to profusely vomit. 

Jake, with his back facing you as he leaned against the kitchen island, his fingers grasping at nothing, only gripping what he could of the counter his ass was pressing against. His beautiful locks of hair were all stringy and messy–the telling sign of hands having been run through it. His moans were enough to make you grow chills from both distaste and lust. The sound of him reaching his release was unlike any other. . . 

But the infuriating fact that it was coming from the tanned, curvaceous woman on her knees in front of him. Who, unfortunately, you could see from the side of the island. And to make matters worse, she was barely fucking clothed. A tiny sheer dress of black lingerie, the only thing you could see from your vantage point. She had her free hand bunched into the material at the back of his gray t-shirt, holding onto him for dear fucking life as she went to town.

When the bile rose to your throat, you knew you had to get away before you threw up. You did not want to puke up any Thanksgiving food, thank you very much. Couldn’t ruin the sentimental dishes only because of Jake and his frustratingly beautiful girlfriend. 

To your relief, once you made it to your room, quiet as a mouse, you found your Stanley as cold as you’d left it (praises-fucking-be for Stanley insulation). And you didn’t have to force sleep after you’d taken a quick makeup wipe to your face and put on an oversized Pratt t-shirt. 

The moans and groans and whiny-fucking-sighs from the kitchen faded out in no time as sleep almost instantly found you. 

Thank fucking God for the tiredness that came with making a human. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: see you tomorrow w part 2... Friendsgiving will kick off pt 2... there is so much to come ;)

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& 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)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98

(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)

[cowgirlcherrie]

Novocaine pt. 1 ━━ ゜゜・．

pairing: College! Abby x friend!crush!fem! reader

prompt: F is for friday’s, but its also for Frats and Fucked up parties, its even worse when the night out doesn’t go as planned choosing to numb emotions with alcohol and weed

warnings: 18+, MDNI, intoxication, partying, alcohol, drunk reader, mean-ish! comedic relief! Ellie, cheating, smoking, weed. almost kissing, heavy cursing, touching, Abby has a toxic girlfriend, substance abuse-ishhh (its only Abby smoking to forget, Reader drinking to also forget), jealousy, angsty

song: novacane by frank ocean

any words highlighted blue in the fic are the lyrics to the song, this fic is based off of the song roughlyy,

a/n: This…. honestly biting my fist at the tension between Abby and the reader, but this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written, I love the dynamic between the reader n Abby where you can feel they are playing it safe even though they want to, based off of novacane by frank ocean which helped me to write this (do listen), but I hope you all enjoy this, thank you for the support on my work so far I appreciate it so so much, sit back n enjoy ♡

I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile...

It was Friday, and as always Fridays were for the frat opens and free alcohol. Now at first, you weren’t considering going, opting to instead stay at your dorm instead and watch movies until your eyes hung low and couldn’t bare to stay open anymore. But of course, Abby dragged you out to join her and her girlfriend at the party. You were rather frustrated, but Abby was just one person you couldn’t say no to. Yet the fired heart of yours was destroyed at the sight of seeing Abby with a girlfriend. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t you to be able to see the raw and authentic parts of her, but rather the campus wanna-bee model broad who dipped her energy into too many people. Abby played it off that she was just friendly, but all you could see was CHEATER above her head in bold red letters. Her smile wasn’t sweet but rather devious and manipulative. According to Ellie, the girl was going to school for dentistry, but adapted to a side hustle of sugar daddies to pay off her tuition. You couldn’t blame the girl, but it seemed like Abby didn’t know what the girl did when the lights were off.

She said she wanna be a dentist really badly

She's in school paying for tuition doing porn in the Valley

At least you working…

So here you were, pushing through the busy crowd of drunk young adults, grinding against each other under the changing LEDS to the beat of the music and a cup filled with awful jungle juice from the keg. Pulling the cup up to your lips to take a sip of the alcohol mix, wincing at the cold beverage going down your throat leaving a burning sensation in your chest. It wasn’t good but it helped you get drunk to survive the next 4 hours at the party. One cup became two...which became 3 and eventually 4. Somewhere into the night, you lost Abby, who somehow knew everyone there, who somehow lost her girlfriend in the fit of people. Last time you saw the couple they were arguing in a corner, Abby’s face scrunching in irritation as her arms crossed her chest, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend. Her partner touched up and down Abby’s arm, pleading with the girl about something. But from the look of It, Abby was denying it, shaking her head at the girl. The couple had been always arguing, it seemed their honeymoon stage was short-lived as their rocky foundation came cracking down and now their arguments and make-up sex ruled the relationship. 

Now you were lost, not even sure if Abby was still here or if she decided to call Ellie to come pick her up and take her home. Suddenly you needed air, the sweaty bodies making your clothes feel a lot damp in comparison to how they felt when you first went in. You were going up the stairs from the basement holding tightly to your cup as you passed people who were headed towards your direction, at the stairs, were pushing and shoving. Entering the kitchen area which was, of course, filled with more bodies and a specific face catching your eye.

Abby’s girlfriend, stood there in all her glory, flashing her friends a billion dollar smile while hanging off of the arm of some frat member, kissing the guy as his arms were all over her. The crowd around them cheering in surprise. Your heart sank, where was Abby? This was not good, making your heart beat fast, watching as the two leaned in to kiss each other…again, now in a full make-out next to the alcohol table. Your eyes went wide, causing you to turn tightly on your heals bolting for the door. Making your way out of the house in a hurry, it didn’t help that you were drunk and your heart was now beating in your ears replacing the deep bass of the music. Converse at one with the black-top pavement, your right hand resting against the side of the house as you stumbled to the front lawn, between the gate and driveway. You were almost there when swiftly your body collided with a hard chest letting out a grunt as their hands wrapped around your waist, to shield you from falling.

“Y/n?” You knew that voice, it was Abby’s, you finally found the girl after looking for her for half of your night. Her hands were still at your waist, slightly squeezing it, with her nails digging into the side of your smooth skin to get you out of the trance you were in. Abby was really touchy, especially when it came to you, you don’t know why she did it but you tried not to take it too literally. Get your head out of the gutter, you would think. You panicked gripping her arms when she finally pulled you away from her chest to get a good look at you, scanning your body to see if something happened by how hard you were breathing and how fast you were moving.

You put me on a feeling I never had, never had, never had (never)…

“You look like you seen a ghost…shit, what’s wrong” Abby questioned. You parted your lips to say something making eye contact with Abby, but you quickly looked away, dropping your head as your lips closed again and nothing came out.

“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Abby questioned, your heart aching at the question. Abby mind-as-well take a knife to your heart and stabbed you with it. You weren’t gonna lie to her, you couldn’t but you knew the reaction Abby would have as soon as the words left your mouth. Abby didn’t like the look you were giving her, you look guilty, almost regretful, the same look you give when you answer something wrong or did something you definitely shouldn’t have.

I think I started somethin' , I got what I wanted, Did-didn't, I

“…Abby,” you dragged, your voice at the same tone as doctors when they prepare to give you the worst possible news of your life, and with that you started shaking your head. All you could do is lowly point to the kitchen as Abby’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing to,  the soft gaze she usually gives you instantly developed to one that was cold and avoidant. Abby didn’t speak further, rubbing her fingers at the side of your waist for a second, as if she had been thinking about what to say or what to do, her hands were delicate with you and almost soothing, but your body felt cold as she let go and walked right past you and into the house.

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you had been holding, cursing to your self as you pushed yourself into the wall with your hands on your knees. The bile forming at the back of your throat making you drop the red solo cup. Luckily for you, throwing up was not an option in that moment and you gave your self a minute to go walk to the road. As you make your way to the curb, sitting yourself on the gravel as you tucked your head down on your arms that were resting on your knees, rocking swiftly to ease you from chucking out everything you had drunk in the last hour.

You were in a daze failing to notice the jingling keys coming from behind you as an arm came down to touch your back making you jump. Head up and looking around in bewilderment. 

“Hey, it’s just me..” Abby whispered, her soft voice contrasting with the loudness of the house behind the two of you. It’s not that you felt bad for Abby, well you did, but instead it was the jungle juice you had not mixing well with your empty stomach. You tucked your head back into your arms. Abby knew you were drunk out of your mind, the way your words slurred or the rambles coming from your mouth before finding that her girlfriend was truly up to know good like everyone said she was. 

“Um thank—“ Abby cut herself off kneeling to sit next to you on the curb, before trying to make her statement again.

“I’m not the type to say it, and you know that but..um, thank you,” Abby muttered, looking at you fully this time as she closed the distance between the two of you on the curb, her hip touching yours as her hand continued to rub circles in your back. This time you could smell the pine cologne radiating off of her and her body heat keeping you warm in the night chill. 

“What..hmph, what are you thanking me for Abby?” You groaned, your voice soft, feeling a bit of nervousness start to take over your form, you refused to look at Abby from your current position, rather finding your arms way more interesting in the current moment.

“Thanks for not lying to me..I guess, I don’t know” Abby let out a swift nervous laugh. You felt her body vibrate as she laughed before she cleared her throat again.

“No, I'm serious this time——“ 

“Thank me one more time and I’m gonna kill you,” You mumbled, voice monotone, causing Abby to laugh again. This time her hand snaked up your back, sending a shiver down your spine, causing your body to jolt making Abby smirk from her position. Her gentle yet roughened hands moved to your cheek to move hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

“Mm..you know what, she didn’t deserve you” you confessed, making Abby freeze. You weren’t sure where this sudden liquid courage came from, hell you couldn’t think straight. Now you were just saying things, but you always thought it, and it was true. She didn’t deserve Abby, or how much Abby sacrificed to be with her, almost damaging her reputation. 

“I know,” Abby put in, shutting her lips tightly, her face shifting to more stoic as her she put her tongue to her cheek before smacking her lips. 

“Do you..?” You slurred, hiccuping as you spoke now looking up to finally look at Abby. She looked so pretty under the moonlight, her hair in its usual braid as she wore a simple black tee with her pretty chain sitting across her neck. Untouched. Your eyes met hers, low yet full of adoration and admiration, and your eyes flickered to her lips. You didn’t know what you were doing, it was as if someone had been taking control over your body. 

novocaine, baby I want you...

“I don’think you do” your voice came out below a whisper, taking your hand up to play with the chain around her neck as she leaned in closer to you, she could smell the alcohol on your breath and you could smell the cologne that didn’t seem to go away. It was almost as if you had put a spell on her, your presence numbing the heartbreak she experienced just a few minutes ago. You were numbing the pain for her.

just one taste, a little taste, she wanted you to love her numb

love me now, when I'm gone love me numb...

“n'you do?” Abby questioned, bringing her hand up to grip your face, as the two of you were practically on top of each other, her lips hovering over yours but before she could lay a gentle kiss, the two of you were interrupted by loud music coming from down the street. Making the two of you jump apart, opening the gap between the two of you on the curb. The car’s brakes screeched stopping in front of the two of you at the curb, it was Ellie. Of course. You gave Abby one last final look, but she had been too distracted by Ellie’s sudden appearance to give one back.

“I’m seriously gonna start fucking charging y’all, I’m not a damn uber” Ellie groaned, turning down the music so that the two of you could hear her. 

“Hurry the fuck up! Let’s go!” Ellie sassed, hitting the side of her door, as her arm hanged out the window. Abby only shook her head at her best friend, standing up then looking back in your direction and grabbing your arm to pull you up. 

“I owe you!” Abby shouted at Ellie who only mocked the girl as a response, Abby dragged you by your arm to the backseat of the car, almost like you were a rag doll. Opening the door swiftly with her freehand before giving you one last look.

“Get in baby,” Abby lectured, guiding you in with her hand on your back. You complied, climbing into Ellie’s back seat sitting up firmly as Abby closed the door behind you after making sure your feet were tucked in. As soon as the door shut you fell over in Ellie’s backseat with a groan. The loud smell of weed, and the rap music coming through the speakers made you feel like you were back at the basement of the party.

“Throw up in my backseat and your washing my whole car, oh!— and with your bare hands y/n I’m not playing with you” Ellie shouted which only earned a groan from you in response,

“Whyyy are you yelling,” you whined as your hands went up to cover your face.

“The fuck did you drink?” Ellie drew her face back in confusion at your attitude before turning the music up a little bit louder. Abby was now in the passenger seat fiddling with her phone, occasionally checking on you in the back, which you had now passed out. The windows cracked just enough for fresh air as Ellie drove back to your dorm complex. The car was completely silent as Ellie handed Abby a pre-rolled blunt and her lighter from the glove compartment. Abby silently thanked, feeding into the temptation and putting the blunt to her lips. releasing the smoke as she tilted her head back into the headrest. If she was gonna be fucked up, she might as well have been high. Sending a: “we’re over, for good. Get your shit and go bitch” text to her girlfriend— well ex-girlfriend with ease. Abby turned her head to look at you who was still sleeping in the back, letting out soft snores that could be heard through the music as your hair blocked your face.  

but, girl, I can't feel my face, what are we smokin' anyway...

“Fuck…” Abby cried out 

“Dude, turn that down she’s sleeping” Abby snapped reaching her hand for the volume button making the music at a moderately low volume, it didn’t help that Ellie was playing Marvin’s Room by Drake that made her want to bash her head into the window. Ellie was preparing to argue, but chose not to realizing the shitty night the two of you were having. 

“You know I’ve never seen her drink this much” Ellie sighed. You were like a little sister to her and she wondered what it was that drove you to keep drowning yourself in cups. Abby hummed bringing the blunt up to her lips realizing she hasn’t either 

“Same,” Abby blurted out as she detached the blunt from her lips really thinking about the situation as a whole. Abby felt paralyzed almost numb in the seat, especially when her ex-girlfriend now crossed her mind, her heart went cold, and she couldn't feel a thing. “—well I lost her, halfway through the night, she probably started drinking because she was alone” Abby confessed feeling guilty that she didn’t stick up under you all night which probably would have resulted in the both of you having a better night. 

“You mean to tell me…you were so pussy whipped you failed to see that, that girl” Ellie pointed at you, “Was missing from behind you” Ellie finished throwing her hands in the air for a quick second before reattaching them to the wheel. Abby sighed in response realizing how shitty she looked in this situation, and you already didn’t want to come which made her feel bad in the first place. 

“When are you gonna start being honest with yourself Abby?” Ellie sneered as her eyes were focused on the road.

“About what?”

“About what?” 

“The truth is you like y/n” Ellie revealed turning her head slightly to see Abby’s reaction. Abby paused at Ellie’s words. Well yes, she liked you, anyone would like you! The way your hair flowed as you walked, the way you laughed, or the way your nose scru— fuck. She really did like you. Abby gave Ellie a look putting out the empty blunt in her hand, and stuffing the lighter back in the glove compartment. Abby was now burning holes in the side of Ellie’s head. 

now I'm something like the chemist on campus, but there's no drug's around, quite like what I found in you

“Pft..no” Abby hesitated to answer, rubbing off what she said. While you were her friend, she was always going to look out for you because no one could do an efficient job of doing so. Yet she felt that she could. Abby scratched her neck, muting her phone that had been blowing up with a text from her ex-girlfriend cursing her out. 

“I’m calling you bluff” Ellie speculated, shaking her head as her hands gripped the wheel even more. Abby parted her lips to rebuttal Ellie’s statement but was cut off when Ellie suddenly began to lecture her. 

“For one second I’m telling you to think that just maybe what you thought you wanted with— whatever the fuck her name is, wasn’t genuine, but you felt as though you wanted y/n the whole time yet you thought you couldn’t have her”

Well, shit. Call Ellie a tarot reader for the way she had read Abby for filth as if she had been stalking her every move. If this was a game of chess, Abby would be losing miserably while Ellie was on the road to victory. But Abby didn’t wanna give Ellie the satisfaction of being right. Abby suddenly remembered your sleeping figure in the backseat rubbing her eyes at the current state of the situation. Her throat groggy and itchy from the blunt she smoked wasn’t helping either. 

“Are we seriously having this conversation right now, mind you— with her in the car?” Abby inquired, nodding her head at you in the backseat, her jaw clenching and she smacked her teeth giving Ellie a glare from her position in the car.

“Fuck yeah, we are because the ignorance you fuckin' have of your reality is pissing me off” Ellie spat, narrowing her eyes. She was riling Abby up, good. Ellie wanted Abby to see the mistake she made by not being upfront with her feelings like Ellie had been encouraging her to do before she even got with her girlfriend. Abby’s nostrils flared as she continued to listen to Ellie’s words. 

“All I’m saying is, look at what you wanted and always wanted, and then look at what you settled for” Ellie cleared her throat focusing back on the road ignoring the intensive, disbelief look Abby had been giving her. Abby bought one hand up to her lips, deciding not to fight Ellie’s words. Abby did like you more than a friend, but it scared her. The possibility of you saying “no” and rejecting her, haunts her more than she realized. Maybe she did try to replace you with someone who couldn’t even compete with you, lowering her own standards to a false sense of home and security. Her ex-girlfriend could never give her the same feelings that you had given her without a single touch, and Abby knew that.

“What felt real to you, Abby?”

I can't feel, feel her, novocaine for the pain, for the pain...

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Holding On

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x gn!reader Summary: You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. You had been his everything and he lost you. Warnings: Major Character Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Jealousy (pt 2 to "Six Feet's Never Felt So Far" but can be read as a standalone too)

Also read on ao3

🎶🎵 I'm still holding on to everything that's dead and gone Here I am alone, between the heavens and the embers 🎶🎵 In The Stars by Benson Boone

Pavitr clutched your photo tightly in his hands and hugged it to his chest, tears streaming down his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The sound of the fan was the only indicator of life in the room. His eyes caught on it's dizzying rotation, face stoic and expressionless. His heart wasn't broken, it was ripped out of his chest and burnt right before his eyes. 

It'd been six months, but to Pavitr, Y/n's death felt like only yesterday. 

Pavitr had refused to believe your were gone. He even went about seeming unaffected or "moved on" but in reality, it was just denial. Deny, deny and keep denying. Until the 13th day ritual of Preta Karma -a ceremony where rites are performed in honour of the late family member and prayers are done. 

He broke down, refusing to attend the ceremony. He was only invited as Y/n's best friend as their relationship had been a secret -known to none else except Gayatri- which hurt even more. 

And, in the months that followed, Pavitr had refused to leave his room unless it was for school or superheroing, grieving and mourning your love in silence. 

He tried to distract himself with Spider-Man-ing through Mumbattan, as Gayatri suggested, but ultimately failed. It felt like a chore now that you were gone. 

"Y/n will always be with us in spirit, Pavi. What would N/n think if they saw you like this? You know, they would want you to be happy.. not, not destroy yourself." 

It was true what Gayatri had said, Pavitr was destorying himself mentally and physically by skipping meals or over eating, playing Benson Boone's In The Stars in an endless loop as he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling passively. 

You had been the light in his darkness after the death of Uncle Bhim. Back then he dealt his uncle's death the same way: starvation, overeating, locking himself in his room and refusing to interact. 

It was you who reached through the dark web he'd woven around himself and pulled him out, helped him through his guilt and depression. 

"How long are you going to stay like this, lying in your room and staring at the fan?" 

He moved not a muscle, but you knew he was listening. 

"You know, Pavu, uncle Bhim would hate to see you this way."

Still no reply. You sighed and combed your fingers through his hair, pulling his hair in a soothing motion. He turned his face in your lap, eyes sore and dry as dull brown orbs greeted yours. His face was blank and devoid of emotion as if he lost the will to live. 

This won't do. 

This boy had to get up and move on; even Maya aunty was concerned. She had accepted her husband's death and come to terms a while later, but Pavitr stubbornly refused to let go. 

You caught his gaze, gently leaning into him. When he made no notion to move, you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly. 

Pavitr was slow to realize you were kissing him but when he eventually caught it, he reciprocated fervently. 

You pulled away, breathing hard. His eyes opened slowly, watching you with dilated pupils. 

"You... kissed me." 

"Yeah..", you blushed slightly, "I.. I hated seeing you down in the dumps.. you really need to move on, Pavu. Bhim uncle wouldn't want you to look so sad." 

"You kissed me." 

"Yeah, I did- but, please, don't think I'm taking advantage of you", you add quickly. 

He knows you didn't; he knows you better than he knows himself. 

"Pavu, you need to get up and get back. I'm not asking you to become the Old Pavitr, but I want you to accept Uncle Bhim's death and move on. I know it's hard, but promise me you'll try." 

The fact you were crushing on him went over his head at that moment, but he had plenty of time to realize it later. 

Though his smile didn't fully reach his eyes, you were content with any reaction other than blankness. Baby steps. 

"I will try, N/n." For you. 

You hardly expected the drastic change. Pavitr got up early the next day, showered, did laundry, recited prayer and left the room. When you came to check on him later, you found him doing chores around the house, his room spick and span. Uncle Bhim's photo on the wall was neatly adorned with flowers and incense sticks, to your delight. Maya aunty was so happy and silently thanked you. 

He kept his long hair as you suggested, as a sign of growth and to never forget what the past taught him. For Bhim Uncle. 

It was the first ever you saw him smile after Uncle Bhim's demise. And, maybe you didn't know, but it was because of you: his sun. 

Pavitr rolled over on the bed, clutching the framed photo to his chest and stared at your bright orbs in the picture. It was taken on his birthday last year. 

You had begun to spend more time with Hari Oberoi recently and it was nagging Pavitr. He knew you guys were just as much as friends as he and Hari were, and he knew you only had platonic feelings for him, but jealousy reared it's ugly head. 

It's been a week and you have refused to spend more than fifteen minutes alone with him and he was getting increasingly anxious. 

Did you not like him anymore? Did you suddenly realize you have feelings for Hari? Are you going to break up with him? Is that why you won't hang out with him anymore, to let him down gently? 

A million questions plaguing his mind and everytime he saw Hari with his arm around you, he felt lost, betrayed and jealous. Hari was stealing you from him. 

"Who are you texting, Y/n?", he asked the next time you met, eating pani puri from a street vendor. 

Had you been aware, you would've noticed him not calling you the usual nickname. 

"No one." 

His heart broke into peices, because isn't that what you say when you're seeing some one else? 

He was just about to ask you the same when you stood up from your table and paid for your snack, asking him to meet you later that evening on your usual spot before disappearing into the crowd. 

It was confirmed. You were breaking up. 

The whole afternoon, Pavitr talked to himself on the different ways he'd convince you, eventually giving up and deciding to just accept it. 

It was half-past the time you had agreed to meet when Pavitr got dressed and put on somewhat decent clothes. He opened the door of his room, sad and hopeless, only to be greeted by Hari holding a giant cake. Maya aunty, you and Gayatri were standing beside him, popping confetti on him as he stepped outside. 

Oh, heck. He'd completely forgotten. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOSER!", you all yell as Maya aunty shot you a playfully disapproving look. 

You collide onto him in an embrace, subtly kissing his cheek as you whisper in his ear. "Happy birthday, baby." 

He hugged you tightly as Hari and Gayatri joined in, Maya aunty flashing pics as his face was smeared in cream. 

He wasn't losing you, after all! 

Pavitr's nails dug into the frame and it breaks under his spider strength. Tears rush down his cheeks on their own as he cries harder, gritting his teeth in guilt and kicking himself.

You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. and the first to make him question his existence. 

You had been his everything and he lost you. 

________

Hope you liked it! :)) reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon uwu

[cristalthenarwhalpotato]

Best princess has arrived! All hail the empress of the night!

Genuinely I had so much fun with Luna. I really wanted to keep the slay of Nightmare Moon to show the scars such a tragedy left.

Also here's Luna before Nightmare Moon, and the lore I made:

(not happy with the anatomy but oh well)

Luna always struggled with not getting recognized for her efforts. She fought against nightmares in the dream world all alone for centuries. Rarely would ponies remember her visiting or helping.

Her sister Celestia was praised and loved. While Luna was often overshadowed.

She put a lot of pressure on herself, insisting she would be fine. She would protect Equestria during night like Celestia did during day.

Luna kept nightmare creatures from escaping the dream realm. But when she failed to destroy one, Celestia would deal with it. Followed by scolding from Starswirl, their mentor.

The Nightmare creatures feed on negativity, fear, and doubts. All of which Luna was filled with. But although they tried to cause her further distress, she didn't yield. Only destroying more of them.

But with every vanquished nightmare, some of their darkness would cling to Luna, corruption from nightmare energy accumulating. But it wasn't her downfall. Rather, something else was being fed within her.

A nightmare made from Luna's self doubts, hatred and sorrow. A being that fed of the corruption left behind by the many nightmares slain. A being just as powerful if not more than Luna. One that grew stronger, and stronger. A being that will be known as Nightmare Moon.

Luna had always harbored jealousy for Celestia, and anger towards the ponies of Equestria. But Nightmare Moon wanted to act upon it. Likewise did the nightmares stuck in the dream realm. They recognized Nightmare Moon within Luna, as not just one of them, but a being that could bring them the power needed to take over the waking world. They need only wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Luna kept to herself her struggles, and when she did reach out, nobody understood. Eventually she started to listen to the voice in her head. She grew more angrier, tired, jealous.

One day, she gave in, too tired to keep fighting. Letting Nightmare Moon take over. Quickly she regretted it however...

What followed was a battle between the sisters, and Nightmare Moon being sealed away to the Moon. Luna alongside her.

But even when stuck in the moon, did Luna try to travel dreams. Likewise did Nightmare Moon do the same.

She fought valiantly against the nightmares even when in exile. She sent dreams to warn her sister, tried talking with her. But... None were received. The Nightmares made sure of that.

So Luna had to play dirty sometimes, sending nightmares warning of threats she saw from the moon. But not always were they remembered. Even more rarely did Nightmare Moon let her.

For a millenia she tried to at least alleviate the pain caused by her mistakes. And for millenia none would notice.

Until a certain Twilight Sparkle, student of Celestia, received vague visions of a grim future. Followed by her beginning research on "The Mare in the Moon" in her dreams. Luna finally, had found someone who didn't forget her warnings.

Twilight told Celestia of her worries, and Celestia sent her on a journey to Ponyville. There which similar events to the show's pilot episodes would take place.

-

Anyways yeah that's my rewrite of the Nightmare Moon. Yes it's sadder and darker but it's my rewrite I do what I want.

I took heavy inspiration from the "Nightmare Rarity" comic about how Nightmare creatures exist etc, and how Nightmare Moon happened. Even if not canon I still adore the concepts-

I also wanted to add to why Celestia believed in Twilight's potential so much. Not just because of her magic, but because she actually heard Luna's pleas and warnings. Something even Celestia struggled with. Which was the catalyst to her realizing that, yes, Twilight is gonna make a great Alicorn one day! (Then Gen5 happened and fucked the lore up)

[nkn0va]

Blazeblue request: If your ok with it, can you write relationship headcannons for F!Ragna and a M!S/O?

Thankfully Ragna's got protag privileges when it comes to fanart. Whitehorse made the banner completely impromptu, the absolute madlad.

Also fun fact, did you know that Ragna is an actual name that's originally feminine? It's a Scandinavian name so you probably won't actually meet anyone with it. In Blazblue's case though, it's likely a reference to Ragnarok in Norse Mythology.

-Poor Ragna has absolutely no romantic experience. Growing up in a church and then being raised by an anthropomorphic cat whose wife was yeeted into the great beyond will do that to you.

-She's extremely hesitant to let you join her when she goes out to destroy the cauldrons, she can't afford to risk losing anyone else she cares about.

-She does eventually relent and let you join. At least that way she can keep you close to her, which may be for the better considering the target likely to be on your back by proxy of hers.

-On the bright side though, you can think of it as a way of travelling, getting to see the world outside of wherever you were born and Jubei's "abode", if you can even call it that. Try bringing this up to Ragna though, and you'll only get a scoff in return. Half amused, half annoyed.

-She's definitely got a bit of tsundere-ness in her like her brother. She'll chew you out when you do something dangerous, it's how she expresses her worry. She doesn't really know how to worry like a normal girlfriend.

-Speaking of Jin though, you're gonna have to deal with his never-ending jealousy/rage when you happen to meet him. There's no avoiding it. He can target Ragna all he likes but if he dares point his blade in your general direction she is going to pound his ass straight back to the Azure.

-She's extremely protective in general, she'll often patrol around the area where you set up camp for the night to make sure nothing is there, aggressive wildlife, scouting NOL soldiers, or otherwise.

-There aren't a lot of chances for intimacy, the kind that's normal for two people dating. When the opportunity does come around though, Ragna can actually be surprisingly soft. It's around you that she can finally relax and not have to worry about putting on the tough attitude.

-It's in moments like those where you realize she really isn't all that aggressive by nature. She has to be if she wants to protect the people important to her, and you're no exception. In fact, you're really the only person that gets to see her be vulnerable like this.

-Of course you're both going to face endless teasing about your relationship. Rachel, Jubei, Kokonoe, and Kagura in particular are all going to give you varying degrees of shit.

-Rachel's going to ask you what made you fall for such a "lowly, unladylike creature" with a shit-eating grin on her face, much to Ragna's chagrin, while on the other end of the spectrum Jubei's just going to playfully tease you two like a dad watching his kid in a relationship. He won't give you the ol' warning about breaking her heart spiel, it's not needed with Ragna of all women. If you cross her she'll fuck you up herself.

-Your relationship with Ragna is really the only semblance of normalcy she has left in her life. You're her tether to reality, a comforting presence that keeps her sanity from truly slipping. Though of course she probably won't be saying this out loud.

-She'll be damned before she lets the NOL, Sector Seven, or God forbid Terumi get their filthy hands on you. You're the only person who can truly see her for who she really is deep down, past the sardonic, hotheaded exterior.

-When she takes control of the Master Unit, you're the one at the forefront of her mind above everyone else that she creates the new world for. Deep down her heart is breaking at the fact that you can never see each other again, and that you'll never even remember her and all the shit you had to go through together. Even at the fact that in the new world you'll probably find someone else.

-But...that's fine. Ragna knew what she was signing up for, and she knows it needs to be done. For the people she loves. No matter how much it hurts.

[octoberautumnbox]

With the usual dynamic between Yena and Yuri, I think Yena would eventually find a way to convince Yuri to loosen up.

"Come on~ He's still your boyfriend after this. I can help you take the heat off. Didn't you complain he's too horny all the time?"

"Ugh... I'll think about it."

"Yuri, I know you're gonna love it... Stop pretending that you HATE this. You know perfectly what these lips can do Yuri 😉"

"Just... Go easy on him ok?"

Narrator voice: Yena absolutely destroyed and drained him

Yuri wasn't worried about Yena tiring him out, not at all. If anything, Yuri wanted him to have a good time. It's just, Yena is so good, and Yuri knows this personally.

On the other hand, Yuri also knows her boyfriend is head-over-heels for her. If nothing else, the ring she puts on when they're out of the public eye is proof of it. He'd spill blood for her if she wanted, or move mountains for the best possible dump Instagram post she can get.

It's probably nothing, right? Just a little bit of jealousy. She loves him, after all. It's normal to want someone as perfect for you all to yourself, even if your best friend in the whole wide world is asking for just one night with him. And, though she loves cumming her brains out onto his cock, it can get a bit much sometimes. It's not his fault that Yuri is just that gorgeous to turn him on at the slightest bit of provocation.

But this is Yena. Yena, who has lips to die for no matter where on Yuri's body she put them on. Yena, who had head game that once upon a time drove Yuri crazy. Yena, who Yuri can't deny is still someone she thinks about from time to time when she and her boyfriend have sex.

Yena, who still confuses Yuri even after all this time.

"Just go easy on him, okay?" Yuri said.

But deep inside, she pleaded to her boyfriend, "Just don't let her steal you away from me. Don't forget about me."

And to Yena, "Don't replace me. Don't move on too quickly."

a/n: idk okay I didn't mean for this to turn out this way sometimes I just be writing whatever

[rambheem-is-real]

Gold Rings and Black Roses Pt 2

pairing: Radha Rama x Aadhya

warning: siblings!Deva and Aadhya

Pt 1 here

-

Aadhya comes back, fresh from her shower, and is shown to the seat at the opposite end of the table to where Radha Rama was already sitting. A female guard had handed Aadhya a new cotton top and pair of jeans for her to wear, and she could see that Radha Rama had also changed into a yellow saree. The table was laden with various dishes, and both of their plates were already filled with a sampling of each dish. After a silent look from the older woman, all of the guards bow their heads and leave the room. Obullamma also leaves, not before giving Aadhya a look that’s half confusion and half jealousy. 

I don’t know what’s going on either! Don’t look at me like I stole your favorite toy! Aadhya wants to yell at her, but figures that would not be good for her life. 

Finally, Radha Rama turns her gaze to Aadhya, who can’t help but squirm. 

Why the hell was this woman so hot??

She tilts her face, studying Aadhya for a few seconds. Aadhya hopes she won’t take long to decide whatever it was she was deciding, because she hadn’t had actual good food in days. 

Radha Rama finally speaks. She gestures to Aadhya’s plate. “Eat.”

Aadhya hesitantly mixes some pappu with some rice, and brings the hand to her mouth to take a bite. Swallowing, she tries to be polite. “The food is really good.”

Radha Rama keeps looking at her coolly. “I know. I have some of the best chefs in the country working for me.”

Interesting, Aadhya thinks. The words were not meant as a boast, but as a mere fact. Of course Radha Rama, whoever this woman was, would have incredible private chefs. 

She nods, and keeps eating, trying not to show her embarrassment on her face. What would it take for this woman to be impressed? A few seconds later, Aadhya realizes Radha Rama hadn’t eaten anything yet, and her heart skips a beat. Silently praying that the food wasn’t poisoned or something, she tries conversation again. “You should eat too.” And because apparently her mouth has no filter, she can’t help but joke. “You’re missing out on some great dal.”

Radha Rama looks taken aback, then the side of her lip curls up. “...You’re right.” 

Aadhya watches as the older woman, almost like she forgot how to, slowly mixes her own rice and pappu, and tastes it. Her eyes close, and she slowly chews, like she’s experiencing the taste for the first time. Abruptly, Radha Rama opens her eyes like she just realized she’s being watched, and Aadhya can’t hide her wide-eyed look in time. 

Radha Rama chuckles at her, but it’s not mean this time. “I pretended to be insane and incapable of doing anything on my own for seven years. It’s why Obullamma was so surprised that I could stand, and it’s why I haven’t eaten by myself in so long.”

Aadhya… digests that information. She doesn’t want to pry, whatever would make a person do all that would probably be upsetting, so she continues eating. 

They spend some time in silence, and Aadhya is aware that Radha Rama is letting her watch the woman enjoy her food, but what the end game is there Aadhya has no idea. Eventually her curiosity gets too much for her to stay quiet. 

“So why am I here?” 

Radha finishes chewing before answering. “I want your brother here.” She frowns. “The original plan was for him to rescue you from Rinda. He would have broken the seal, and he and that lover of his-” The word ‘lover’ is spat with a sneer. “-would’ve fought to the death. Even he has to abide by the Nibandhanam. One of them would live, and whoever survived I could easily pick off. That is, if they hadn’t mutually destroyed each other.” She shrugs. “But he didn’t do what I expected him to, so I just had Vedha send him a message about your parentage. Now he’ll show up, take you away, and Rinda can go cry to his dear karta that your brother broke the seal.”

Aadhya has so many questions she doesn’t even know where to start. 

“Ok,” she says, trying to process. “Ok, even before I ask who the hell my brother is supposed to be, or what the hell a nibandhanam is, you could have still killed me and sent him a message about that. Then he could’ve come to get revenge or something, breaking the seal by killing Rinda. That was Obullamma’s plan, right? So why am I here?”

Radha Rama studies her, like she’s unsure of whether she should say what she’s thinking of. Finally, she answers. “You remind me of myself.”

“Thank you?” It comes out as more of a question than Aadhya wants it to be. “How so?”

“You were willing to do anything for your father. And brave enough to stand up to the people that kidnapped you, making a deal with them. I was that way, once.” Radha Rama, having finished eating, uses her glass to wash her hands in her plate, and stands up. She slowly makes her way over to Aadhya, who’s sitting frozen. Radha Rama puts her hands on either side of Aadhya’s corner of the table, and leans into her space. 

Aadhya can see now that Radha Rama had taken her time freshening up in the time before lunch. The kajal had been reapplied to her waterline, her hair was neatly braided down her back, and the faded bottu had been replaced by a striking red one. Was that.. perfume? Aadhya can smell a faint floral scent, something expensive. Up close, she can see how much she had underestimated the older woman’s beauty. Even at her age, which Aadhya estimates to be around fifteen years older than herself, Radha Rama is regal and commanding, eyes piercing through Aadhya’s very soul. 

“I was once like that,” Radha Rama repeats herself. “I was going to be the next karta, did you know that? After my dear father’s reign ended. I would have ruled, as I was told since I was a child. I grew up with no votes, no power, no friends, because everyone assumed I would get my fifteen and a kingdom as soon as the time was right.” Aadhya has no idea what a karta is but she believes it, can see this woman on a throne. 

“I sacrificed so much for that throne,” Radha Rama continues, voice dropping into an intimate whisper that does things to Aadhya’s stomach, and she can’t help but glance at the older woman’s dark lips as she talks. “I married a man I didn’t love. I played watchdog for my idiot brother and that boytoy of his, fought for a ceasefire for that ungrateful bastard child, and for what? To be betrayed, to be cast aside like I was nothing.” She focuses back on Aadhya. “Us both, sisters of men who have never cared about anything other than their own self interest, daughters of men who we’ve been separated from, and daughters of dead mothers.” 

Radha Rama leans back, smirking at Aadhya who slowly lets out the breath she had been holding, wiping her hand on a nearby napkin to conceal the way it had been shaking. “That’s what I see in you.” 

Aadhya, for once in her life, practices great restraint to not immediately suggest for this woman to meet with a therapist. She has no idea what Radha Rama was talking about but she knows this speech was seven years overdue. 

She also has to practice great restraint to not jump this woman’s bones. 

Aadhya is saved from her thoughts from the servants that come to take her plate, and she smiles at them. “Thank you,” she tells them in English. 

Once the plates are gone, she looks over to see Radha Rama, now lounging in her chair. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she offers. Radha Rama raises an eyebrow.

“You had no idea what I was talking about, don’t lie.” 

Aadhya shrugs. “No. But as a fellow woman, I’m still sorry that happened to you.” She sees it again, that flicker of surprise in Radha Rama’s face. She presses her luck. “So who’s this brother of mine? Why haven’t I ever seen or heard of him before?”

Radha Rama just laughs again, and Aadhya tries not to instinctively smile along with it. The laughter is sharp and melodic, and goddamn Aadhya stop acting like you have a school crush-

“You spent the last few days with him and your birth mother, actually,” she says. Aadhya stares at her, then the realization hits. 

The momentary elation of learning she has more family members disappears when she remembers the last time she saw who was apparently her biological mother. Of course Aadhya had known she was adopted her whole life, her parents had never shied away from that fact. Aadhya just had never bothered looking for her biological parents. Now, thinking about Amma’s accusing glare, about Deva’s complete indifference to her safety, she wishes she never found out. Aadhya doesn’t know how much Deva knew about her adoption, but there was no way Amma didn’t know Aadhya was her own family when she realized she was Krishnakanth’s daughter. And she still let them take me away.

Radha Rama watches with confusion, as Aadhya’s face falls. “You didn’t like them?” she asks incredulously. 

“More like they didn’t like me,” Aadhya chuckles wetly.

Radha Rama frowns. “Why the hell not? What’s wrong with you?”

Aadhya wants to laugh again. How come this stranger, the woman who had kidnapped her, was treating her better than her own family? 

“Well, it doesn't matter. Either he’ll come to rescue you once he finds out you’re his sister, or…” Aadhya looks up to see a glint in the older woman’s eyes. “Or Obullamma will get her wish.”

A chill runs down Aadhya’s spine. Stupid, she thinks. She had completely forgotten about the fact that there wasn’t much stopping Radha Rama from killing her, that the woman was very much capable of killing her if her stories of ruling were to be believed, and went and started crushing on her. 

Radha Rama smirks at her visible fear, before calling for a guard to escort Aadhya back to her room. 

It takes a while for Aadhya to fall asleep, but when she does, she dreams of Obullamma taking a knife to her face, gleefully slicing it open. In the background, she can see Deva watching it happen, face blank and body unmoving. The dream suddenly shifts, and she’s now on her back, she can’t move- why can’t I move?? and she hears the voice of a young boy in the background. She can’t make out the words for some reason but he sounds distressed, pleading. The dream finally shifts once more to the hospital room she stayed in for days. Aadhya notices her mother, lying on the hospital bed but not hooked up to any of the machines. She’s dressed in one of her regular chudidars, the pink one with dancing figures around the border, not the patient gowns Aadhya had last seen her in. 

Her mother lifts a hand up to caress Aadhya’s face. 

“Naa bangaru thalli [my golden daughter],” she says, her smile radiating joy. “You were the best gift I ever got.”

Aadhya smiles back, wishing she could stay in this moment forever.

-

tags: @recentinterest @theimmortalprince @nini9224 @just-a-lazy-person @alezangona @omgdontlookatmeuniverse @greatkittykoala @sinistergooseberries @inveter and ofc all the server besties

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Well, I suddenly had an idea that... suddenly, for example, a situation broke down that a farmer and some person were close enough or just acquaintances, but their spouse just noticed some things all the time, like how close this person was to the farmer and how the person's hand was accidentally touching them.. and then their spouse would get jealous! and of course it would be interesting for me to read about sve characters, so...

it would also be interesting to add, for example, something NSFW, you know( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).. but this is optional of course

Hmmm, some jealousy headcanons 🌝

Welcome back Mazya! And thanks for the ask ❤️

_________________________________________

Lance:

Lance isn't jealous by nature. After all, he, like Farmer, has plenty of friends both among the adventurers and now among the regulars now that he's moved to Stardew Valley, so there's nothing wrong with devoting some time with friends. And the pink-haired adventurer in no way forbids the Farmer from spending time with their close friend... as long as their close friend doesn't break the boundaries of what's allowed. Because if they start hitting on Farmer or start being really touchy-feely, Lance will have a reason to be a little worried. Nevertheless, he'll resolve things in a civilised manner and explain to Farmer what and why Lance is feeling this way.

Magnus:

Magnus is having a bad time after this seemingly completely inconsequential incident. Even he and Farmer have discussed the moment and his consort has assured Magnus that whoever hugged them "for too long" (Magnus' words) is only a friend to them and Farmer will cross their courtship attempts, if any. Which, however, didn't help the old wizard shake off his feelings of jealousy. So let the Farmer not be surprised if their spouse is very close to them and a little suspicious of their friends.

Victor:

Victor is sure to drive himself to the brink of paranoia when in reality it is the Farmer who loves the spaghetti lover and not their rather clingy friend. The thought that it's all false accusation and the thought that Farmer already regrets choosing Victor begin to bang against each other in Victor's head and it affect him in real life. Eventually, he can't stand it and asks Farmer to talk to him. What a relief Victor will feel when he realises that there is absolutely no reason to be jealous and suspect cheating! Why hadn't they both talked before?

Olivia:

Oh, Olivia knows that her partner is loyal to her and that they love each other madly. Alas, some of Farmer's friends are behaving a little inappropriately, since they allow themselves more than is usually allowed in friendship. Then the businesswoman has to remind everyone that she's Farmer's wife, in case anyone forgot that. Nothing extreme or toxic, just Olivia taking some precautions. Very skilfully, by the way- so skilfully, without destroying the friendship of Farmer and their friends, and without ruining her relationship with her spouse. The wolves are fed and the sheep are safe, as they say.

Sophia:

Sophia doesn't understand the concept of jealousy as such at all. Of course, just because the pink-haired girl may occasionally switch into "I wanna attention right now!" mode and lash out at Farmer for hugs, she doesn't harbour jealousy towards Farmer's friends. Because Sophia knows that if a friend lives far away (as in her case with Scarlett), you want to spend more time before they leave again. Besides, the Farmer always comes back to Sophia, always tells her about their day and always makes her smile and happy. She trusts them, so no jealousy.

Claire:

Claire had been walking around a little depressed all day. As much as she tried to distract herself from bad thoughts, the moment when Farmer's best friend, who came to visit them, started to hug and touch them for quite a long time, made Claire feel jealous. Sad, uninspired, maybe this isn't all as she imagines, maybe she'll start false accusations and hurt her spouse, or maybe... Luckily, the caring Farmer started the conversation first, as they couldn't understand why their wife had become so silent. They both solved their problem and Farmer reminded her that they love her and only her.

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 8: The Heist

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: The plan really isn’t all that complicated. It’s just wildly dangerous and leaves plenty to chance…

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, canon-typical violence, dry humping if you squint, loads of action, cliffhanger.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

--

Torre is ninety percent sure she is in love with that tin can buzzkill, though it perplexes him why. He’s also completely certain that it is reciprocated and knows the two of them haven’t admitted it to each other. If even to themselves.

The argument was an interesting listen. She’s just as emotionally repressed now as back then, unwilling or unable to accept any kind of esteem that isn’t coated in caveats and conditions. She also can’t stand having her intentions misunderstood.

He’s ninety percent sure, but he’s decided to shoot his shot anyway.

Start with touch, he thinks to himself, but go easy. It’s her primary love language, which is why she resists it so often. But she’s caught up in the job, letting him brush a hand on an elbow or pressing shoulders as they work. His hope is that it reaches into her subconscious and connects to what they used to have. It’s still in there; he can feel it. It’s why he’s letting go of the past, for her and what you two had.

‘You know, hon,’ he sighs, leaning his head on the wall by the panel she’s working at. ‘I was already watching you in that cantina, sitting in that booth with the weird green kid?’

‘Torre,’ she grits through the phase driver in her teeth. ‘Tryin’ t’concentrate.’

‘Oh please, you could do that in your sleep.’ He gets more comfortable. ‘I don’t think I’d actually recognised you at that point, but you still drew me in. Something you carry, dove. Something in you. I was honest to gods working up to go over to talk to you, before I even knew it was you…’ 

Torre touches her elbow, mutters her name. ‘What are the odds, huh? The same bar? The same day? After all this time? It must have been meant to be.’

A crackle from the panel and the lock cycles. She just gathers her tools and moves.

‘Another down, four to go,’ she says, waits for the hatch to slide and slips through. He ducks in behind her, crowding her subtly, and it hushes closed again. She doesn’t pause, just strides ahead.

Have patience, Torre tells himself. Pick your moment. He follows.

--

Din stews in anger, worry and regret.

Anger at Torre, as he’d watched him on the system vision move about you and take every excuse to touch you. Worry about the inbound smallcraft, detected on the scope moments after you’d dropped into the shield deck where comms were cut. Whatever that ship was, it wasn’t part of the plan.

And regret, a potent and searing regret that set in almost the second you’d turned away from him and marched off into the throws of the heist. It had doused him hard. Why had he done that? Accused you like that? Said all that after, to agree to partner with you, he’d made you share maybe your worst memory. Bare yourself to him. And it hadn’t even been to persuade him to let you work with him. He was already going to say yes. But he just wanted to know.

So he’d asked you. And you’d told him. And then he’d gone and used it to hurt you.

He wants to settle into mentally lashing himself but has to push it aside for now. Because this inbound craft is setting alarm bells to screaming in his mind and hot panic to washing through his body. He thinks he knows that beacon.

And he can’t fucking warn you because the treasury had obliterated comms with some kind of scramble set up around where the shields were housed. He’s not even sure you’ve noticed. Torre hadn’t told either of you that you’d lose channels on the shield deck, and Din had foolishly missed it, too clouded by rage and jealousy and… hurt.

It was R5 who’d spotted it. Too late to do anything about it though, and Din had thumped the console so hard the nervous droid had bleeped and whirred up a frenzy.

Now, he glares at the readings cascading around him, and decides.

He pulls up the ship holo on his vambrace. It’s not the live one, but he can still plot a direct line. Fuck any patrols he runs into. He has to get to you. Din lays down a litany of orders at the still chattering droid as he whirls from his chair and storms out of the cockpit.

--

You near your final door, ducking into a small alcove to await a passing patrol. By your own inner orientation, you’re roughly below and one corridor over from the first lock you’d passed. It’s taken forever but you’d met no company at all.

You’re almost impressed with Torre on this one. Then a hand lands on the small of your back and the impatience returns. You want this over. Want back on the Crest so you can apologise to Mando and tell him exactly how you feel, about everything.

The slap of several dozen boots echoes by. Quiet again, you move to the panel and get to work. Despite Torre’s claim you could do it sleeping, the procedure to circumvent the security is fiddly as shit.

Once you lightsaw into the doorplate, you have to find the surge protector unit – designed to accept any excess electrical load – and set your decoder keys to build your cypher. You have to watch both carefully at the same time, because once the surge opens, it is a matter of seconds to reroute the power flow and slip the interlocking latches over your fabricated code.

Then you wrench the lot free and it’s Torre’s job to jam a reseal protocol into the opening. It gives you three seconds to get through, before its locked tight again.

But you’d gotten quicker at it with the mandatory practice and it’s not taking long. You’re running the keys steadily, caught up in the sensation of mechanical parts moving to your will, when you hear an unexpected sound that makes your blood run cold.

Boots. Heavy, rapid boots thundering down a corridor to your right. Straight toward you. Torre hears it and swears.

He turns to you. ‘Shit, another patrol?’ his eyes are wild, uncontrolled. A different side of him. ‘We have to move!’

You don’t answer, trying to focus on getting this damn door open so you can escape whatever is about to barrel into your stowaway party.

‘Hurry up!’ he barks. It does not help. You drop your phase driver and swear.

‘Shut up,’ you say. But the sound of boots smacking the deck is getting closer and Torre is panicking next to you. He pulls a detonator from a pocket and readies it.

‘What the hells are you—’ you start right as he says, ‘Time’s up,’ and moves to toss it at the rear archway. With one hand still decoding the lock, you reach to grab it off him. But you’re too clumsy and, just as the lock gives way and the door clips open for its programmed few seconds, the bomb skitters to the side, beeps increasing.

Despite all that, you don’t duck through the door. Because in that moment the thundering footsteps round the corner – and it’s not a guard. You twist from your escape route and stare, hearing the lock engage again behind you and Torre cursing from the other side. 

‘Fuck! Shit!’ Calling your name. But you’re lunging into the vicinity of the explosion.

‘Mando!’ you shout. ‘Look o—’ He’s barrelling into you, arms raised to your head, just as the hallway erupts.

Deafening and painful reverb knocks you senseless as you tumble in every conceivable direction. Battered from every side, you try to just tuck yourself inwards and wait for the blackness to wipe you out.

It all stops suddenly and through the ringing cacophony, you assess where you are at.

You’re flat on your back, legs akimbo and elbows tucked in, hands pressed into the hard surface above you. Through blurry vision, it looks to you like part of the ceiling has caved in. You take a second to wonder why you aren’t being crushed to death when a deep throb in your cunt snaps you into focus.

Mando is on top of you, arms braced by your head and whole body straining to hold up the debris across his back. Your hands are flat against his cuirass, legs spread around his hips, and your now pulsing centre is pressed directly into his groin.

His helmet is by your ear and you are assailed by harsh pants and grunts pouring into you. He shifts some and the applied pressure sparkles on your clit.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You blink hard and shake yourself, trying to focus on the direness of the situation and not on how good this feels. Trying to not writhe and press yourself into him. Mando grunts your name and you die a little.

He says it again and then, ‘Can you-- can you move?’

‘Uh-’ you wiggle a little, oh fuck it’s unbearable. You flex your feet and find a small bit of purchase. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Can you slide out and push this off me? I- I can’t shift without it toppling further.’ He can’t possibly have a clue what he’s doing to you, because as he adjusts the bearing of his arms, he presses himself harder into the apex of your thighs. You can’t stop yourself and cry out, even whine a little. ‘Shit, are you hurt?’  

‘A- ah, no, no, I don’t think so. It’s just, j-just so tight,’ you all but whimper.

‘I’m gonna try to lift some, then you move, okay?’ He’s making small movements again and you’re absolutely spare. ‘On three, okay?’

‘Okay, okay,’ you’re pressing your head into the solid floor and trying to will yourself out of this exquisite feeling. The man’s suffering, for gods’ sake. This is so wrong. 

‘One, two… three!’ He bears down on you for one second and you grit your teeth as hard as you can as an unbidden but forceful orgasm rushes through you. You try to make your ‘Hhhnnnh,’ sound like the effort of moving. 

As he lifts himself, you push and shimmy across the floor, wriggling up and up Mando’s body and feeling every single inch where you make contact sizzle with lust.

‘Good, you’re doing good,’ Mando is saying between heavy breaths and fuck you wish he’d stop. ‘Almost there.’ 

Sliding free, you pivot onto your knees and crouch low to get a shoulder under the panelling that had trapped the two of you.

‘On three again,’ you pant, sounding unnatural and husky to your own ears. You count in and heave upwards, your pleasure-frazzled body making a clumsy effort. But between the two of you, there’s enough give to let Mando scramble out. He gets free just as you drop the heavy weight. He orients himself and sits, facing away from you, to heave deep breaths.

He lays a hand on the floor and looks over his shoulder, ‘You okay?’

You, resting on your knees and heels, huff out a near crazed laugh. 

‘Yeah,’ you say, unable to keep the panting from your response. ‘Thanks.’

You both take a moment to let your breathing even out, which bounces around the demolished corridor in a way you find intoxicating. You’re just closing your eyes to let it sink into you when reality floods back in.

‘Shit!’ you say, leaping to your feet. You lunge at the doorway Torre had vanished through. He’s gone, nothing on the other side but a silent passageway. ‘That fucker.’ 

Mando steps up behind you. ‘He’s the least of our problems,’ he mutters, right in your ear again. 

You will yourself to calm down, turning to him. ‘What’s--?’

‘Another ship is docking, probably boarding by now,’ he says, moving to the side of the door and checking your handiwork. ‘How long will this last?’

‘Well,’ you say, motioning at the timer on your bracer. ‘It’s supposed to hold until we’re off this ship, but…’ you trail off, feeling lost and self-conscious as the plan falls apart. 

But Mando is moving into action, he punches at his own wrist and the entire ship winks into existence across his forearm. You stare at it.

‘How did you…?’ you ask.

‘Downloaded it off Torre’s terminal while he was distracted,’ he says. The while flirting brazenly with you part goes unspoken.

You just mutter a small ‘nice,’ and move in to look at the map.

‘Here,’ you point. ‘We can circle back on this path and get to the vault.’ Mando’s head snaps up at you.

‘What?’ he hisses. ‘No, we are getting off this ship now.’ He swipes a hand across the map so it whizzes to the Crest, then marks it as a waypoint. He starts to move off but you grab his elbow. Electricity crackles against your palm and when he spins back to you, he’s so close again you can hear his breathing.

‘We’re so close,’ you say, unsure why you can’t let go of this mission. ‘This new ship doesn’t change the fact you have to get that beskar back. Does it?’ He stands rigid in front of you.

Confused by Mando’s indecision, you just try to look imploring. He takes you in. You know it’s completely impossible, but you feel like his face is softening. Into a tenderness. And a hunger. Like he’s drinking you down, taking all of you. It draws you back to what it felt like when you were underneath him. 

It becomes too much, so you drop your gaze. ‘Please,’ you whisper. ‘We have to try, right?’

He seems to give in, lifts the ship map again. You realise you’re still gripping his elbow and let go so he can reset the waypoint.

‘This way, then,’ he says, moving with you.

Sprinting down the corridor, you can see the vault door wide open, jolting back and forth against an armoured guard’s crumpled body. You and Mando skid to a halt at the entrance and see Torre on his knees, shoving credits and precious metals into a satchel. He looks up.

‘Hey!’ he straightens, has the gall to look relieved. ‘You made it! Sweet. Hey, Mando.’

You move to lay into him but Mando shoves past you and, with a yelp from Torre, lifts your ex-heist partner by the lapels and shoves him into a row of lockboxes. Torre paws at his arms and kicks weakly before finding some composure. 

‘Hey now, hey!’ he tries for purchase against the shelves, lifts himself some to avoid choking. ‘We can still finish this together – I have the code for the escape pods, remember?’

You step up beside the two of them, start nudging at the pockets you can reach on Torre.

‘I’m sure we can handle that ourselves,’ you say, enjoying yourself for a moment.

‘No! No, no, no,’ he pants. ‘Same deal- same deal at before, locked- to me, only me. Look!’ eyes to the side, ‘there’s your prize! I’ve got it all ready to go. Look!’ His knuckles are white against Mando’s armour and his eyes are rolling back.

But you and Mando look and see a satchel sitting open, the beskar bars stacked neatly inside.

You sneer. ‘You were gonna take it, weren’t y—’ You’re cut off by Mando dropping him to the ground. ‘What’re you?’ But you notice the urgent beeping of R5 coming from his vambrace. Mando checks it and twists to grab the satchel, throwing it over a shoulder.

‘Time to go,’ he commands.

You don’t question it, just follow, sensing Torre get to his feet, grab the loot and stumble after you.

With the timing thrown out and your path interrupted by Torre’s stupidity, there’s no choice but to confront a patrol to get to your escape.

As the three of you charge a squad of ten, you can’t help dropping a sarcastic ‘so much for fast and quiet,’ into Torre’s ear. He returns a shrug and smile, misreading your state.

‘Fun though?’ he says as he expertly grapples a stunned fighter and locks their airway before shoving them aside.

You roll your eyes, ducking into a forward tumble on the floor to twist up another solider at the knees with your feet, pushing the stumbling figure into Torre to execute the same move.

A rough hand on your shoulder yanks you up and you start for a second. But it lets go with a yelp. You turn to see Mando slamming the grabber into the wall so hard it leaves a dent there. He lifts the limp body and hurls it into two others.

You move to his back, pressing shoulder blades to cover his six while he douses the two stumbling figures with a gout of flame. A guard moves in to assault you with the sparking tip of his weapon and you reach your arms up, gripping Mando’s shoulders and lifting your feet. He braces you easily so you can plant one foot hard into the on-comer’s chest as the other toes at the weapon to force it into his face. His forward momentum and absolute surprise at the move lets the electric current catch him fully. He jolts and crumples. 

Just as the body hits the deck, Torre ducks in and grabs the baton, taking it up and – with a flourish – landing it home in the centre mass of another assailant.

Mando shoves you around. Confused for a second, it evaporates as you hear the familiar sound of blaster fire glancing off beskar. You grab his arm to look around and see the three final squad members hunched in the edges of an archway, weapons free.

Mando backs you up, up, until you have cover.

‘Stay down for a sec, okay?’ he says. He waits for your nod. Then he turns back to the onslaught, tugging detonators off his belt. You spot a downed foe feet from you and risk a hasty scramble to take up its blaster, trying to lay down cover fire.

You notice Torre on the other side of your arch, doing the same thing. He glances at you with a ‘what’s his play?’ look but you just focus back on the stalking shape of Mando. He takes a ruthless amount of firepower before leaping forward, hurling the hot little devices into the feet of the enemy.

An ear-splitting bang fills the hall with smoke. You huddle for a second before a hand is at your shoulder, offering you an arm up. You take it and get to your feet, a quip on the tip of your tongue before you see it’s Torre holding your hand.

‘Nice,’ he huffs. ‘Quite the team, aren’t we?’

You tug your hand back just as Mando emerges from the smoke to step flush with the two of you. 

‘We’re running out of time,’ he says.

‘Let’s go then,’ you say, laying a hand on his elbow as you move past. Mando reciprocates with a palm between your shoulders, where you’d leaned your weight into him mere moments before. He may as well be consuming your entire body.

You will the feeling aside for later and dash pass the three incinerated bodies.

It’s a few minutes of running and pivoting, following Mando’s barked commands of ‘left!’, ‘ahead!’, ‘third corridor!’ before you sense that you’re finally nearing the escape vessels.

‘Straight on, then right!’ he shouts.

Nearly out of here.

But you round the bend to find company waiting. Yet another troop stood staunch and ready.

Torre turns, ‘Shit! Where’s he gone!’

You look around and feel a flash of panic as you don’t see Mando. He’s no longer with you. He was here a second ago! Confused and distressed, you whip back to take in the eight menacing bodies of armour – half with blasters trained on you, the other half readying shock batons. With no choice, you raise your arms. Maybe you can buy some time t--

The Mandalorian strides around the corner at the opposite end of the passageway, taking them at the rear in the span of a heartbeat. All eight guards zero in on him like filings to a magnet. They’re barking orders and unleashing a hellish assault as Mando whips up a tempest.

And it’s like they’ve completely forgotten about you.

Before you can move, Torre grabs your arm and drags you to an escape hatch. The doors of each one are stood wide thanks to his programming. You wrench out of his grasp and shoot daggers at him, ‘What are you d--?'

‘Come with me!’ Torre holds out a hand with one foot inside the pod. Booty slung across his shoulder and blue eyes sparkling with his plea. In the flickering light he looks just like the boy you knew.

You look with panic to Mando, who is holding one guard in an elbow hold while another pummels his back and shoulders. He grunts and hurls the first, now limp, body into the others. He twists around to find where you are, spotting the scene of you standing next to Torre with his arm stretched toward you.

‘He’ll be fine, just come! Come now!’

It’s enough. The split second of distraction the sight brings is enough to let an attacker jam a shock prod into Mando’s side. He convulses and drops to a knee. A second jab with the rod and he slumps. 

‘No!’ You sprint toward the skirmish, faintly hearing the hiss and click of the pod latch behind you. You slow only to tug a blaster out of a felled guard’s hand.

Mando is on his hands and knees and you use the clear path to land shots on two of them. As one body begins to drop you drive into it with all your force, scattering the three remaining who trip and stumble out of the way.

Scrambling to the disoriented form of your partner, you get an arm under his and heave him toward another hatch standing open, kicking the satchel of beskar ahead of you. The weight and strain pulls the muscles of your hip and sides, which all start screaming in protest. You’re about to collapse when that thing you fear grows inside you and pushes against the strain. 

You let it, feeling the inhuman power drag you forwards.

Mando is through the door and shoved into a seat and the beskar is hurled in behind. All you have to do is throw yourself in there too and somehow get the latch closed—

A hard, metal arm hooks around your throat and drags you backwards. You try to grip the door jam but whatever created that furnace inside you has snuffed out and you flail in vain as you’re pulled from the pod.

In that one desperate second, you make a choice.

You grip the guard’s forearm and tighten it against your neck, throwing him off balance just enough to lift both feet in the air and slam a heel into the control panel, launching the pod. Through the stars that erupt across your vision, you briefly glimpse your Mandalorian sit up and lunge for the door, but it’s already falling away from the side of the ship.

A searing pain screams out of your shoulder, against your neck, and everything goes black.

--

He doesn’t even reach the door before the little emergency vessel lurches into an unstable spin and Din has to stagger back into the control seat, needing to push all thought of you aside. Not for long though.

Gripping the controls he strains against the torque, dangling precariously to the side for a second as the pod sways against the ignition thrusters. After a brief, stomach-churning struggle, he manages to nudge the thrust into stable motion. 

He jams on the comms, the image of you being yanked away flooding back in.

‘R5, do you copy!’ he yells. The beep of binary comes back instantly.

‘I’m sending a vessel code. Find me and set its coordinates to the new rendezvous I’m transmitting now, then meet me there.’

Affirmative nonsense chirps back and Din feels the small craft’s momentum change from aimless plummeting to following a clear trajectory.

He collapses back and tries to settle his ragged breathing. His pounding heart. Nothing to do now but wait.

Din crashes into the tiny villa with ferocious intent, but he’s too late. The data table lies empty, the input panel smashed to smithers. Torre has already been here, and he’s made damn sure to cover his tracks. Din glances to the side and sees your final discarded meal, cold and congealing like so much desperation.

He gives himself one second to slam a fist into the wall. Then he notches the scanner on his visor and takes in the surroundings, stalking back into the street. The town is too busy to make out any genuine set of tracks. He could try to—

Wait. What is he doing anyway? He doesn’t want to find Torre. He needs to find you.

But that treasury, after an incursion like their heist, would have changed course by now. Its security protocols are taking it far out of Din’s reach. He could track it down eventually, but what would happen to you while he does that? What’s happening to you right now? He fights despair, feels it rising to drown him. With every passing second, he is less and less able to stop it.

He kicks himself. Just do something. Go get Grogu, that’s the first step. Do that and then figure out the next…

He thinks of his son. A wild, desperate idea comes to him and he sprints in the direction of the Crest.

--

Prev | Next

******

Yeah so I stole Din's moves from the show, but I figure they worked for him then, so why wouldn't he use them again?

[meadowtwins]

Information sheet about Dionysus 🍇:

When being interested in deity worship it is important to do the regarding research about, well, everything. Not every source is tells you all the Information you need to gather. There's always gonna be a few questions you may have left unanswered so I'll try to mash it all up together in one post as a (hopefully) trustworthy source! The Information gathered below me, beside the basics is mostly based on all the questions I used to have that were left unanswered for a LONG while. (Long Post ahead)

Dionysus (Di-on-y-sus) also called Bacchus, is a member of the twelve greek Olympians. He is roughly classified as God of wine, fertility, vegetation, reincarnation, parties and festivites, comedy and tragedy plays, madness and wilderness. Bacchus is the Roman given name, depraved from the frenzy and madness he induced, called Baccheia. Additionally the Romans called him Liber Pater, meaning free father.

Family: His Father was Zeus, his Mother the mortal Semele (who was also classified as the Goddess of Bacchic frenzy), no full blooded siblings, his Wife was Ariadne

Myth: Simply told, Zeus and Semele were lovers. Hera, Wife of Zeus and Goddess of lawful marriages, women and family and marital harmony, felt jealousy and persuaded a pregnant Semele to ask Zeus if he would show her his true self. Now this part gets told each way, he agrees and his godly divinity burns her to death, or her consistant asking made him so angry that he let thunder rain onto her, resulting into her death. Either way, after her Death, Zeus feels compassion for the yet unborn child, cuts it out off Semeles body to sew it into his thigh until it can rightfully be born. The next part gets told differently. After his birth, Hera was so enranged that he was alive that she ordered the Titans to kill him. After they have ripped him apart, Rhea allegedly revived him again and Zeus ordered him to be brought up by the Nymphs. His attribute of the reincarnation steems from this myth. Differently it gets told like this: When he was born, out of protection, he was given to a foster parent. Now this again is different in each myth. Sometimes he was entrusted to Hermes, other times Seilenos, even after that he was given to Semeles sister and her husband. Eventually Hera found out about his location and drove the couple into madness, letting them murder each other. After this he wandered the world in search of his purpose. During his travels he learned of vine, wine-making, etc. He arrived in Greece then Thebes long time after trying to establish a reign. Marking his name as God of Epiphany (The god who comes). The, mostly winemaking skills, he has learned abroad impressed the people. But the ones in power, such as his cousin Perseus, denied his worship and disbelieved his divinity. Soon he has gotten his own cult under the influence of ecstasy and madness. Mostly the woman of Thebes have taken a liking to his influence, they were called Maenads. Everyone who was against his reign and the madness he spread were destroyed (by his Thyrsus in the Myths). His influence became wide spread, marking his title as the God of madness and frenzy.

Cultural context: Knowingly, he was worshipped in Naxos, Boiotia and Edonia. There he was seen as a God of Orphic Mysteries, A God of the Eleusinian Mysteries or God of the vegetable Gardens.

Attributes: Grape-vine, Ivy crown, Thyrsus, Parties and Festivites, Wilderness and Vegetation and Comedy and Tragedy Plays

Sacred things: Thyrsus, grape-vine, Ivy, Cinnamon, Silver Fir, Bindweed, Wheat, Barley, Leopard, Cheetah, Tiger, Goat, Donkey, Lion, Serpent, Wild bull, Apples, Figs, Berries, Acting, Wine, Drunkeness and Pleasure, Festivites, Ecstasy, Reincarnation, Predatory big cats, Homosexuality, the Colors Red, Purple, Gold and the Card of the Devil/Hanged Man

His Worship: Broadly his cult was called Bacchic, the followers Bacchantes. Some called it Dionysian Mysteries. He was called Dionysus Eleutherius, the liberator, as his wine, the madness and ecstasy free his followers from their monotone life and subvert their fear into something powerful. Those who believed in him were at first ridiculed until they realized what the consequences of being against his reign entailed. The first of his followers were the women, who were called Maenads. In their madness they tore wild animals apart, wearing their fur as devotion and even their family, believing them to be leopards/panthers of that sort. These Maenads additionally wore Ivy crowns as to honor Dionysus' attributes. Under his influence people were believed to be possessed by his godly powers, letting them gain unhuman strength. Followers of him included spirits of fertility, such as Satyrs.

Festivities: Dionysia (lesser Dionysia) was one of the oldest festivals in dedication to Dionysus. It was said to celebrate to cultivation of vine. Timewise it was celebrated around modern December/January. It was centered on a procession, followed by drama performances. City Dionysia (greater Dionysia) was a festival held three month after lesser Dionysia, modern March/April. This festival was more elaborate and carried more worthy offerings such as wooden statue of Dionysus. The followed drama performances were performed by more noteworthy playwrights. Anthesteria celebrated the beginning of spring. It span across three days, with each day regarding a tradition in honor of Dionysus.

Offering Ideas (traditional and modern): Alcohol (specifically Red wine), Bottles, Corks, Cider, Honeyed Milk, Water, weed or any type of hallucenigens, Drugs, Grape (Grape flavored things), ticket to the Theatre, Costumes/Masks, Pinecones, Fennel, any Wildflower, Figs, Ivy, Honey, Bones, imagery of his sacred animals, preserved Animals, fur cloth, Wheat, Barley, Olive Oil, Musk, Bread, Grape-Vine, Fruit, anything regarding Homosexuality or Effeminaty, Cinnamon, Silver Fir, Apples, storax, thistle, Black diamonds, frankincense, Golden jewerly, Amethyst/Tigereye, concert tickets, any imagery of his attributes, devotional acts of listening to music, singing, going drinking/partying, learning about his attributes, braiding hair, letting your hair grow out, making devotional art/hymns/prayers, wear his colors, sexual acts (only if you're comfortable with that), confidence in yourself, in ancient greece Maenads made blood offerings due to his connection with the dead (see: the myth of him going to the underworld to save his Mother Semele) but be REALLY careful if actually doing that

How to pray/offer to Dionysus: When praying to a Chthonic God you would have your head and hands down with your hair open. The Prayer can be anything. There is an actual structure of a hellenic prayer (invocation, argument, request) but during modern times it isn't necessary. Be respectful and thank him. Traditionally his offerings were burned but again, no necessity. Be sure to have some sort of protection during an offer/a prayer. "Euoi" was a passion cry from Bacchic worshippers that is still used today. You could use it in a prayer!

This is all the main information I've gathered so far. When coming to connect with gods its important to know what they represent and what they're known for.

Happy Witching!

Additional links to check out if you want to learn more about his myths or his connection to his attributes: