#but shes still living w her family and not quite on her feet and also being haunted by a ghost (it is a good book!!)

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 2 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; fainting; regurgitating profusely; nausea; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; extreme feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; mentions of EMDR therapy; prenatal visits; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; emergency room visit and all that might entail (e.r. visit is a longer one, so strap in); revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; looooots of baby talk; pregnancy hormones (and this is nothing compared to what's to come - that's all i'll say); reader still being sad while she checks Jake out; oh! and Joshua Michael Kiszka being the perfect angel he is <3 (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 32.6k+ (what the actual-?)

a/n: hi my lovely readers <333 i am deeply apologetic for the time you waited to receive this chapter, but i hope the length (holy fucking shit, btw) will make up for it. i really will try my damndest to not take almost a month next time.....

BUT, as you guys have learned, my chapters are very rarely "short" in length, so you can rest assured i'm quite literally busting ass trying to write the chapters in the near-month span of time between updates. lol <3 (while also doing real-time life w a job and family to tend to every single day)

this story is my baby that has been outlined for months in a google doc and i refuse to release chapters until they're completed with everything i deem necessary to include. i promise it's all for the good of the story and for the ultimate enjoyment of the readers (you!). <3 i'm never purposefully leaving you hangin', babes <3 ily all more than i'll ever be able to properly express. 🫶🏻

special shout out to my sis for being my go-to beta, ear, advice-giver, helper, AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN when it comes to all of the silly little stories i write. @joshym. you are my favorite. you know that. and i love you. so fucking much. forever the daniel to my samuel :)

and another shoutout to my wonderful pal @welightthefire - GOD, i love you. y'all, this lady has been my main source for all things baby related and i'd be hurting without her help on alllll things baby and pregnancy. <3 babe, you are the bomb and you better KNOW IT.

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

Your stomach dipped all the way to the heels of your feet, your body feeling a rush of equal parts cold and hot. 

There were no words spoken for several moments, and almost as soon as you’d said it, Josh had turned to face the front. Jaw clenched tighter than you’d ever seen it, he put the car in drive as his hands wrapped tightly around the wheel – 10 and 2. His back was ramrod straight and his jaw didn’t stop flexing as you swiveled to sit to look out the windshield alongside him.

Your stomach was churning— for multiple reasons. On top of the anxiety in the moment, you also hadn’t been eating much as of late. Your appetite was almost nothing — save for pickles and Cosmic-fucking-Brownies. 

It had blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. 

After your night of Mac and Cheese with Jake, you had started borderline craving it afterwards—alongside the brownies and pickles. But, when you’d made some for yourself, you came to realize, with the first bite to your mouth. . . That Mac and Cheese was no longer your friend. 

Although, it had made very close friends with the toilet, as you’d bent over it hurling until every last bit of the yellow food deposited in front of your sweaty face.  

Surprisingly, you’d still been hungry after puking. . . but unfortunately, everything else you’d tried to eat either ended up in the toilet or in the trash from the smell alone. 

And, to your utter demise, Cosmic Brownies had been ruined that day, too. Their contents eventually met the toilet when you’d tried to snack on one that same evening to fill your empty stomach.

Suffice to say, the nausea had started to kick your ass and this particularly tense situation was doing you no favors.

All you could do was steal glances at him, awkwardly, for the thirty or so minutes it took to get to the women’s clinic. He wasn’t talking at all which was so unlike Josh. You’d never gone this long being in the same space as him where he wasn’t talking. The man loved to talk. And you loved to listen and engage.

But that was not the energy that was transpiring between you two.

You would have normally put on music to fill the hollow, painfully silent space. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to move, much less put on music that would just add to the discomfort that you’d created with your confession. And, honestly, it felt like you were already making too much noise every time you took a deep breath. 

Besides stealing the occasional peek at him, you watched the multiple semis that passed you, and the forests that lined the highway, full of leaves with changing colors. 

And Josh just drove. Just fucking drove. And, even worse, he drove normally. Better than normal, actually. Unlike ever before, he was following the highway’s speed limit, all while not getting emotional anytime someone pulled an asshole move on the road. 

He seemed to be putting every bit of his energy into three things: focusing on the road, keeping his jaw clenched tight, and not moving his hands from 10 and 2 unless he had to look over his shoulder to switch lanes.

Once you pulled up to parallel park on a busier street in SoHo, you’d made up your mind to tell Josh to just drive back and that you could hitch a ride with an Uber. 

You didn’t want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he apparently already felt. 

For one, he didn’t need to be here if he didn’t want to be. And secondly, you couldn’t fucking handle any more right now. The whole point of him being with you was because you were already fucking stressed before you’d ever even told him. And at this point, it seemed you’d been correct in your assumption of him being angry. 

But right now, his reaction didn’t fucking matter. This appointment mattered. Your baby mattered. You needed to be in some sort of decent mind space before you stepped foot into the place. And whether or not that included him was relative to his response when you informed him of this.

You breathed in and out heavily, shutting your eyes as you did so. Once you opened them, you pressed the unlock button on your door, signaling to him that you were ready to get the show on the road. You didn’t have time to fucking sit here and let him sulk. 

Releasing a deep breath once more, you finally turned to look at him once you’d unbuckled. Then, once facing him, you mustered the firmest tone possible at that moment. “Josh,” you started, sharply. He blinked slowly and flexed the muscle in his jaw once more before he turned to make eye contact with you. 

Fuck. His eyes. . . Was he angry? Sad? Indifferent? You couldn’t fucking tell. You’d never seen him so guarded. God, you shouldn’t have invited him to this. You really had started to hope that he would react more like Elsie and Gia thought he would. 

But he hadn’t, and you were faced with whatever the fuck this attitude was that he had chosen to wear. 

Once it was obvious he was going to look at you as you spoke, you continued. “You don’t have to go in there with me,” you began, firm yet empathetic. “I won’t make you. I will go in on my own. I have to. For my own reasons, I have to keep this appointment today. But you don’t have to come in if you would rather not,” you stated, steady and sure. He was free to fucking leave if he wanted. “You can fucking leave. I will not make you go in if you’re angry or upset or uncomfortable. I’ll get a damn Uber and you can drive back to the complex to get your car.”

He seemed to come back to the present, blinking several times and shaking his head. He rubbed one hand down his face, just as Jake did when he would get stressed. 

The similar reaction made your tummy feel fuzzy and desperate for the security you needed at the moment. You needed someone right now. Even if you were willing to do this on your own (which you were), you could really use his support at the moment. 

You unlocked the doors once more, making sure they were ready to go before you reached for the handle. 

Resolutely, you looked over your shoulder before you addressed him once more. “I’m sorry that I made you angr—.”

“I’m not angry,” he finally said softly. After clearing his throat to talk properly again after not talking for so long, he continued. “I’m shocked and— I’m just feeling a lot of things,” he iterated, his eyes begging you to understand. And, you did. “But I am honored that you wanted me to come with you today,” he said, his face transforming to once again show you your Josh. He was back. Grabbing your hand, he finished his thought. “And I would love to go to this appointment with you.”

The tears that filled your eyes and trailed down your cheeks one by one couldn’t be helped. 

“I couldn’t have done this today without you,” you said, voice cracking with emotion. You popped the glovebox to get a napkin to wipe your face, not looking at him as you kept on. “I’ve been so scared for this, and the only person— besides Elsie— that I wanted here with me, was you.”

He reached over to hold your hand, and you tucked the napkin into your lap for backup when you caught his eye again. Before he spoke again, one tear escaped his eye. With one hand lightly squeezing yours, the other dashed up to wipe at the new wetness under his eye. 

Then, after shaking his head, he raised a curious eyebrow to address you. “Wait,” he said wetly before clearing his throat. “Is this your first appointment?”

“Yes,” you blinked, a blush skirting over your cheeks. “I’ve been in denial of it all until super recently.” You sniffed, feeling a couple more tears escape your eye at the topic of conversation and finally talking to Josh about it. It was, admittedly, a lot. “It took me a hot fucking second to come to terms with all of it, so I’m just now at the first appointment.”

He nodded, brows still furrowed as he looked down briefly before finding your eyes again. “How far along are you?”

“I think I’m technically like eleven-ish weeks,” you replied, doing quick math in your head. “I would need to look at my app to give you an exact number. Normally I have it right at the front of my brain, but my nerves are fucking wracked right now,” you bashfully swept your eyes over your hands, interlocked on the armrest. “For obvious reasons.”

You heard him hum and took that as your sign to look at him again. He was watching you carefully, quizzically. His eyes squinted as you, yet again, flushed under his stare. 

“What?!” You hastily spit out, nervous. 

“Does he. . .?”

Knowing exactly what he was asking, you quickly shut down his train of thought. “Jake doesn’t know,” you informed him, tucking your chin as you quietly repeated yourself. “He doesn’t know.”

“Alright,” he responded, not questioning you in the slightest. Your eyes flashed up to meet his: the color of cocoa and sparkling. “Does Elsie?”

Without any words, you gave him a look that answered his pondering thoughts. 

He chuckled, and you joined him by huffing a little laugh, just under your breath. You felt your cheeks loosen with an easy smile. Your shoulders were relaxing more and more by the second. The familiar, natural sense of joviality with him was settling your frazzled nerves.

You eyed the clock on the dashboard and suddenly realized that you were cutting it very close to your appointment time, with no more than a few minutes to spare before you would be running late. 

Sensing your sudden shift in mood, he took the keys out of the ignition just as you unlocked the doors once again, and opened yours. 

“Let’s go inside,” he encouraged, mimicking your action as he opened his own door behind your turned back. 

When you were out of the car, and waiting (sort of) patiently on the sidewalk for him, you physically shook out some of the anxiety that had made home in your bones for the last several months. 

He officially knew that you’d had sex with Jake. He knew that now. And he knew that it had resulted in a baby. He knew enough for now.

And it actually seemed like things were going to be okay. Maybe Elsie had been right all along (though you’d never tell her that).

Your thoughts were affirmed when he came up beside you, pulling you into a hug as soon as he was at your side. A full-on Josh hug: arms wrapped securely around your shoulders. You did your best to hold back tears, so as not to soil his stark white sweatshirt.

Pulling away before you could let any inevitable tears take over, you looked up at him to see his dimple, present in his cheek. You couldn’t help the single tear that trickled down your cheek at the overwhelming feeling of normality. He was warm. He was real. He was Josh. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to him once more before taking your hand in his and wrapping it up tightly. 

Peeking up at him through wet lashes, you saw his face was still turned up in his signature grin, his eyes, slightly playful as he gave you a knowing look he’d given you a thousand times before. 

“You’ve got this, mama,” he reassured with a wink, opening the door to the clinic for you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The place was fucking amazing. The pictures you’d seen on its website hadn’t done it justice at all. The environment was trendy and relaxing and comfortable. Soft music, similar to that of a lullaby played in the open space, only illuminated by the natural light of the day. No overbearing fluorescent bulbs.

Thank God.

As you made your way to the front desk, you decided to let go of Josh’s hand. 

For some reason, it just felt right to do this on your own. Felt right to make this stride on your own. You could handle the front desk.

“You go sit down,” you offered, motioning to the couches that filtered the chic waiting room. “I think I can do this part.” 

“You sure?” He asked, brows dipping to show his genuine concern. “I’m with you every step of the way. I mean it.”

Your eyes drew wet at the words, but you sniffled and cleared the emotion from your throat when you went to grab his arm through the soft white material of his sweatshirt. “I love you so much for that. I can’t even tell you, Josh,” you told him, a tear escaping despite your efforts. “But I’ve gotta take this step on my own.”

He nodded, needing no further explanation. “I’m over here if you need me,” he threw a thumb at the couches behind him. 

You watched as he walked to the couch nearest to the front desk, sitting comfortably on the blush pink velvet that covered it. You tipped your head at him once, showing him and yourself that you were starting your trek to the counter. 

Once there, you were greeted by the kind smile of a woman most likely in her fifties or sixties, her thick black-framed glasses taking up more than half of her face. Her tanned complexion was flawless and her lips were full with red lipstick as she stretched them over perfectly white teeth. Her jet-black hair was half-up, half-down, haphazardly thrown up with a claw clip, but looking flawless nonetheless. 

She matched the modish aesthetic of the clinic to a T. 

“Hi, babe,” she cheerily greeted you with an out-of-place Southern accent in SoHo, her voice still low to keep the room quiet. “You have an appointment today?”

You froze. The reality of it all suddenly came barreling towards you.

Fuck. Shit. Yes. I do have an appointment today. I’m pregnant. I’m standing here, waiting for an appointment because I’m fucking pregnant.

Dammit. What the fuck? I’m. . .?

You standing here suddenly seemed completely astronomical and unreal– was this truly what life was for you now? While thinking about it nonstop, you’d also not been thinking about it to the extent that it would’ve taken for all of this change to click. This was real. Real life. 

You were carrying a human child. 

And you were at your first appointment for it.

Goddamn.

Blinking several times, you tried to keep your grounding firm as your eyes traced her features a thousand times– searching your suddenly static-filled brain for the most simple word in the English language. 

“Y-y-y–,” you shut your eyes tightly to reset. Come on, y/n. You’ve got this. It’s just one word. 

But you suddenly weren’t sure if you ‘had this’. Your hands began to shake uncontrollably at your sides; you wiped them repeatedly on your leggings. 

But before you could moisten the fabric covering your thighs completely, you went to place them on the counter, touching your current surroundings to center yourself. To hold on to what was real. 

Gia would be so proud.

But then your brain raced right back to the true reality of it all. The reason you were freaking out in the first place was because of the real you couldn’t escape–not that you wanted to, by any means. . .right?! You wanted this. You wanted this. 

You DO want this, y/n. Deep breaths.

The voice sounded so eerily similar to your therapist’s that it helped you to grasp onto a flicker of stabilization. 

This reality was not new. You’d known it was real. You had known there was (probably—hopefully) a kid in you for the past few weeks. And being in this place didn’t make that anymore different than before— minutes before when you’d stepped through the door of the clinic. 

Then you’d walked up to the counter and had one simple question asked of you.

You shook your head once more before blinking open your suddenly-wet eyes. 

But you couldn’t look up from the floor. From your high-top, white Chuck Taylors, now off-white and stained from years of wear. 

And swirling before your eyes in ways they shouldn’t be from the amount of nerves encapsulating your brain. . . Your stomach was rolling.

All of a sudden, you felt a familiar arm wrap around your trembling shoulders, strongly holding you to his chest to keep you stable. The cologne that came from the person, along with the overwhelming rush of relief that came with his presence was a dead giveaway for your new company.

Everything settled.

“Yes,” Josh stated, clearly, for you. “Yes, it’s her first appointment. Y/n? Y/l/n?”

A couple of beats and a few clicks from a mouse followed his words. Then you heard a clipboard clack lightly against the counter and a pen getting clicked open before she sat it on top of the board. 

“Whenever she’s ready,” her voice assuredly spoke, so soft and warm. “I’ll get y’all back there when the time feels right.”

You’d effectively curled tighter into Josh before you looked back up at the sweet lady, meeting her eyes with embarrassment laced through every feature on your face. The muscles in your jaw relaxed when you met her eyes, finally speaking. 

“Thank you,” you muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

She tilted her head at you, sending an understanding wink your way. “No need to apologize, sweet pea,” she calmly hushed, her voice sounding reminiscent of any old Southern woman you’d ever seen in a movie. “It’s a whole lot to deal with. We get it.”

Your lips quivered up into a small smile, eyes watery. “That means a lot,” you sputtered, fresh tears making their way to your jaw. 

Dear fucking God. The tears had to stop at some point. You’d always been a crier, but these motherfucking hormones were just bringing out the absolute most. Pulling out all of the stops. Your emotions, pre-pregnancy, were already shaky, at best. . . and they were apparently just getting progressively worse with the damned baby hormones.

The anxiety was understandable. But the crying? It was almost nonstop. And it was getting old already. 

Though, you knew–you knew–that it wasn’t even fucking close to being over. If everything today went accordingly and you officially found out there was a whole ass baby growing inside of you, you knew that this spike in emotions was only the beginning. 

Sharing one more smile with the lady behind the desk, you walked with Josh back to the waiting room couch he’d been occupying prior to your blessed meltdown. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Unashamedly, you let Josh fill out all of the paperwork. You were still tense and uneasy, but the way you’d handled answering the questions, with him right by your side helped more than you’d intended it to. The process had just been an easy ebb and flow, answering basic questions about yourself. 

And questions about Jake—but Josh answered those with zero problems. Basic Father-Of-The-Child shit that Josh could ramble off in his sleep. You couldn’t help peering over his shoulder as he answered those. You couldn’t explain the intrigue— you just thought it funny seeing him answer questions about his twin. . . Like it was nothing. 

Then came questions about your menstrual cycle. Which were not your favorite to have Josh write the answers to— but you didn’t want to put pen to paper, so you continued to let him write even those, too.

The rest of the process went easily. He’d rattle off a question, and you’d answer it. That was how it’d gone for roughly thirty minutes. 

He’d clicked his tongue, drawing a line down the section about past pregnancies. And then he’d come to a question that made him give you a look. He had one eyebrow raised as soon as he’d read through the last question. 

The last question. The last question that had been slightly unwelcome and less than wonderful to have him fill in for you. 

You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of it being on the sheet. Your mind had been too focused on other things for the past several days. Like hopelessly depressing scenarios involving your baby’s wellbeing and telling people and eating fucking pickles. . . you just hadn’t really given much weight to possible questions on this initial patient questionnaire. 

You pulled your body back slightly, your own face morphing to one that mirrored his. “What?”

“The last question— they want to know if you’re sexually—,” he cleared his throat, shaking his head once before before continuing. “If you’re sexually active.”

You blushed deep crimson—your cheeks, flaming hot. You knew exactly where his mind went because it was where yours went with the question. 

Are you still having sex with Jake?

You coughed briefly, clearing the awkward air before you responded. “No,” you divulged, your eyes flitting up to his: big, wondering and deep chocolate. “No. We’re not— fuck. I’m not. I’m not having sex. I don’t know if he is,” you rambled, bringing a hand up to slap your forehead. Your heart rate even accelerated the slightest bit, hurting your chest. What in the fuck? That's unnecessary. It’s one question, y/n. Quit being nervous—there’s no need. “But—I’m not having sex. Not sexually active, no.”

Josh brought your hand away from your head, which was suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat. You found his eyes: open and willing to listen and understand. Your heart rate slowed considerably at his expression. “It’s okay, y/n. Either way, I don’t care. It’s your life.”

You blinked away more tears—god, fuck. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded in response. The response was what you’d needed to hear from the beginning. Would things be different if you’d heard those words from him at the beginning of all of this? 

It was no use to imagine. You hadn’t heard his affirmation before now, and at this point, it was officially too late. You’d hurt Jake. Jake had moved on and proved to you that you really weren’t that important to him.

And, the sad truth: even if Josh was okay with it, you had plenty more reasons to keep your title with Jake strictly roommate—friend at most. 

Also, officially, the mother of his child.

Clasping your hands over your tummy, you watched as he checked the “no” box. Then, you watched his eyes scan the sheet quickly to check for any missed questions, clicking his tongue against his teeth all the while.

Thankfully, it seemed you’d successfully answered all of them when he got up to walk the sheet back to the counter for you, where a nurse now occupied the seat, you’d observed. Scrubs, making that apparent.

You had been too busy spacing out on the many questions Josh had asked of you, per the sheets. You hadn’t the mind to pay attention to where the receptionist had gone.

Josh came back over to you shortly to get your driver’s license from you, along with your insurance card. 

“They’ll need these on file,” he said, flashing both at you once you’d given them to him. He brought them back after they’d scanned them into the system, but went up to the counter to answer any questions they may've had as you waited on the couch. 

He was seriously the best. You, proving to be completely useless, didn’t hinder him from being the most incredible friend whilst you sat, doing nothing. 

Before too long, once (you assumed) the general information from the sheet had been entered in the system, you heard your name called from the door to the side of the desk, and you were steadily ushered to the back by a nurse. (With Josh in tow, of course. He wasn’t going anywhere.)

“Nice day outside?” The young nurse, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, asked politely, as you stepped off the scale she’d weighed you on. 

“Yeah,” you responded, glancing over your shoulder at Josh. “Nice fall day. But a little warmer than we like it, huh, Josh?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes,” he responded. “Definitely not enjoying my choice of clothing today. . . Not the day for a sweater, I’ll say.”

The nurse hummed, taking in the information as she grabbed a cup from the counter with your first initial and last name on it. “How long have you guys been together?” She addressed you once with a smile, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in her eye. 

You didn’t mean to squawk with a laugh. 

But thankfully you didn’t have to worry about it because Josh did, too. 

The laugh was, once again, exactly what you needed to calm you down. Your shoulders, still releasing their tension from earlier, became more and more relaxed with each giggle you released. Josh was holding his mouth and shaking his head, his smiling eyes closed while you answered the question. 

“We’re not together,” you explained, the laughter dying down as you caught the nurse’s wide eyes sympathetically. “He’s my best friend. Dating my sister, actually.”

“Oh,” she grinned shakily, eyes jumping back and forth between the two of you. “You both just–he’s here with you today—and you two just seem to fit so well together.”

You smirked, throwing a sideways glance at Josh who was watching the woman with the same sympathetic gaze as you. He must’ve sensed your staring, though, because he quickly threw a look your way. 

He winked at you before adding in his two cents. “I mean, you weren’t wrong. We do mesh incredibly well, but her sister’s had my heart for a helluva a long time. However, I am the uncle,” he informed her, pointing to himself before throwing the same pointer at your tummy. 

It made your heart flutter a thousand beats per minute at hearing him say, for the first time, that he’s the uncle. Josh being bound by blood to the little bean growing within you is another reason you feel assured in your decision to keep it. It’s part of Jake, and part of your closest confidant (aside from Elsie) for years. You’ve obviously thought about it plenty of times before now, but finally hearing Josh acknowledge it was something your heart desperately needed.

“My brother is the father. I’m just her best friend–don’t know what he is to her, though," he finished.

Your eyes widened as you were still getting used to hearing Jake being referred to as the father out loud. . .

Better get fucking used to it, though–nothing you could do about it. 

You also weren’t sure what to make of Josh’s last statement–was he still upset with you that he didn’t know anything about Jake’s role in your life? The inflection in his tone sounded a bit more sneering than you would have liked.

Whenever she spoke next, you were able to snap out of it, recovering quickly.

“Whoa,” she said, blowing out a breath. “That’s. . . wow.” Shaking her head, she looked at the cup in her hand, handing it over to you before she continued. She seemed to be done with the conversation, and ready to get back to the task at hand. “Every woman that comes in for her first appointment gets her blood drawn and urinates in a cup,” she motions to the plastic container she’d handed over to you, then taps at her arm as she watches you carefully for her next spiel. “We draw the blood so we can use it to identify your blood type and to look for other conditions we may have to monitor or treat during your pregnancy.”

Damn. That was a hell ton of information. What do I even make of all of that?

It was your turn to just stare blankly at her and offer a simple okay before she was pointing to the room with the open door, across the hallway, for Josh.

“You can wait in that room for her,” she stretched a little half smile over her delicate features. “She will be there shortly.”

He gave you two thumbs up and a reassuring grin before going in the direction she’d told him. Then she was leading you to the nearest bathroom so you could pee in your fucking cup. After giving you a few instructions, along with a sterile wipe, and informing you on how to get an uncontaminated urine sample, she was letting you in to the single-person restroom. 

It definitely matched the trendy environment of the rest of the clinic and was cleaner than probably any other public restroom you’d ever been inside. You did exactly as she’d instructed and made your business quick before handing off the sample to the same nurse from before. She sat it in a window where someone behind immediately grabbed it. 

“Going off to the lab,” she half-smiled, but quickly tipped her finger to signal you to follow her further down the hallway. “Now I’m going to draw some blood real fast, and then you’ll be free to go wait for the doctor in your room.”

Sitting in a chair in a room towards the back, a couple of other nurses went about their business as your nurse cleaned your arm, using a cotton ball with her now-gloved hands. 

“Does getting your blood drawn freak you out?” She apprehensively questioned before she went to insert the needle. “Or these?” She wiggled the needle in the air to emphasize.

You shook your head, pursing your lips. “For some reason, those are two things I’m totally fine with,” you spoke, your voice tilting up at the end. “I don’t know why they don’t freak me out—everything else fucking does.”

God, shut the fuck up, y/n. Let her do her job.

The blonde gave you an odd look, as if you’d spoken too much for her taste. 

And that pissed you off. You no longer felt bad for talking too much. 

You fucking asked me, bitch.

Thankfully, you were able to get rid of her in minutes-time. As soon as she’d bandaged your arm over a cotton ball, she pointed you to the room she’d sent Josh. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled with a small, semi-annoyed smile before making your way to the room where Josh waited. 

His eyes were huge when you made your way into the small exam room. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’ve got it cut the fuck out for you, huh?”

You gave him a look that said Seriously? and rolled your eyes. “Duh, Josh,” you replied, taking in the small room with pretty pictures of babies all over the walls. “I kind of already knew that. Since I am the one carrying the fuckin’ baby and all.”

God, that was harsh, y/n. He doesn’t deserve your anger like that.

Both of his hands went up to guard him as he crossed one leg over the other. “Jesus, y/n,” he sighed, eyes huge. “Give me a damn break. I didn’t even know until today that you were pregnant. Didn't fully know any of it. It’s a lot for a guy, I guess.”

“Damn, I’m so sorry that it’s so much for you as a man, Josh,” you scowled, your voice not hiding any of your irritation with him for his last comment. 

Seriously, y/n?

To be fair, as amazing as Josh truly was, he was still a man— and half of the time men didn’t know their heads from their assholes. Didn’t ever know the proper times to say stupid shit. (Or, to not say it at all.) 

You had to put it in perspective, though . . .because you kind of sucked at saying ridiculous shit, too. So you could only get so angry with him.

“That was a stupid thing to say,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

You tried to laugh it off. You didn’t want there to be unnecessary tension right now—it was the very last thing you needed. “It’s fine,” you encouraged. 

You propped yourself to sit the best you could on the edge of the beige-matted table. The thin paper that covered it crinkled underneath you– made you feel like you were making way too much noise for the tiny room.

“I’m sorry for being short. I need you. For multiple reasons. But right now. . .I just need you to be with me when I find out if this bean actually exists in my loins. . . If I’ve been imagining it the whole fucking time, or if I’ve lost it. . .,” you swallowed. You had to blink back the tears gathering in your eyes as you trailed off at the dreaded possibility. “I just need you to see with me if there’s anything sad to be seen,” you added, voice suddenly wet. 

“Hey,” Josh spoke, softly. “Look at me.”

You swiveled to do as he said. The attempt to not cry was useless. The tears were drenching your cheeks. The fear that had settled so deeply in your bones since the day you’d heard that podcast was coming to light, as you’d just uttered the worries aloud for the first time. 

Barely seeing Josh through the wetness that clouded your vision, you replied the best you could, albeit extremely pathetically. “Yeah?” 

“Why are you worried about those things?” He asked, so quietly, eyes gleaming to bring light. Grabbing your hands, his eyes became suspicious slits when he addressed his next question. “Y/n. . . Have you given yourself any time to feel excited about this appointment? Or have you just focused on the anxiety you’ve built up, surrounding today?”

You bowed your head out of embarrassment. “I’ve been excited, Josh. . .,” you muttered, completely aware of the lie. 

“Mmm,” he responded, rubbing his chin with one hand as the other still grasped both of yours, sure and comforting. “I suspect that’s untrue. . . I know you, my love.”

Gasping on a sob, you closed your eyes to stop crying, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, squeezing your hands, down and away from your face. He held them still with one of his own, the other helping to slide his chair closer to you. “Don’t you dare be sorry, mama— there’s no reason. This is just the beginning; you’ve got plenty more opportunities to be excited. . . I’m sure plenty of women get worried before this first appointment. There’s a lot up in the air before the first time you see the little thing on the screen.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. And though they were still wet, nothing else was coming from your ducts— thank god. “Yeah?” You asked, desperate to know he actually might understand, tone begging him to tell you you’re not crazy. “You think?”

He nodded with his lips pursed, his new mustache squiggly with the action; his brows, tied together, and eyes, serious. “Oh, yes. I know it. You are not alone, love,” he reassured you, helping your heart rate slow to normal for the millionth time that day. “But that’s why I hope every single one of those women has a person who is there for them on days like today.” He paused, setting his eyes firmly on you before continuing. “Because, today, we are going to discover and conquer whatever we find out from that screen—,” he tilted his forehead toward the monitor screen, “Together.”

Your eyes welled, lip sticking out with a pout. God, you loved him. You truly couldn’t have done today without him. “I really need a hug from you.” 

Without question, he was up and out of his seat, wrapping his arms snugly around you. You tucked your nose into his neck, breathing in his cologne— the familiar smell of his patchouli exactly what you needed to feel secure in the moment. 

You were busy focusing on his breathing, in and out, in and out, when the door received a knock and creaked open behind his back. He must’ve heard, too, and moved away from hugging you and back to his seat as you both watched for the doctor to walk through the door.

But the only person you saw was. . . the receptionist? What was she doing in—? 

“I’m Dr. Rose,” the beautiful lady—who was a doctor apparently, not a receptionist—greeted you with that same, thick Southern accent. “It’s nice to see you doin’ better since I last saw ya, babygirl.”

You blinked several times, feeling immediately at ease with the familiar face. “You’re a doctor? Not a receptionist?”

God, stupid, y/n. Duh. She just said that, you moron.

She chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” she replied, as she clicked on every button on the monitor needed to complete the appointment. Afterwards, as things whirred to life, she went to open the laptop she’d carried in with her, sitting atop the counter. “I’m your doctor, sweet cakes,” she twanged in her western tone. “I’ll be with y’all until the very end of this wonderful journey we call pregnancy.”

You grinned, appreciative of the fact that you were already familiar with her—even if it was from the tiniest interaction earlier. But you couldn’t hold onto that feeling for too long before you got nervous of the impression you’d made earlier with your anxiety attack (or whatever the hell that’d been). 

With concerned brows, you cleared your throat before offering up some words of your own. “I’m so sorry that the first time you met me I was acting like a basket case,” you apologized, extremely self conscious. Crossing your legs tighter, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. When that still hadn’t been enough to contain the nervous energy, you let your hands rest on your belly. 

Tapping away at the small bump, skin tight under your sweater, you waited for her response. 

She gave you a look that immediately eased you. Her brow, raised, and beautiful red lips quirked up in a small grin. “Now, little missy, I told you earlier that we get it and I meant it.” Dr. Rose sat on her rolling stool, wheeling over to the table. And once there, extended it to be higher so she could talk better with you closer to eye level. “You are not the first one to get all nervous at your first prenatal appointment—or any OB appointment at all— and you’re certainly not the last—far, far from it,” she smiled wide, close-lipped and completely empathetic. Her deep set, big, brown eyes— lashes so long and curled to perfection— showed you how much she cared, behind her big black frames. “Now, how about we get to the good stuff?”

There were obviously a couple tears dripping down your cheek, and you pushed them away as you nodded. Your tummy did all of the flips and tosses and turns—your skin was practically buzzing with nerves. 

You were so close to seeing the truth.

Facing this head on.

“Go ahead and lay back for me,” she instructed. You did as you were told, bending an arm behind your head, trying to get comfortable in skin that felt restrictive. As she stood up, clicking a few buttons to get the monitor screen situated, she asked some questions. “Now can you give me a small debrief on your health history? Anything you can think of? Don’t worry about digging too, too deep right now. We have your blood samples and urine sample that will also aid in indicating any abnormalities.”

The word abnormalities wasn’t your favorite thing to hear, but you didn’t let it sit tight in your brain as you pondered anything she might need to know. 

“Um,” you dipped into the more current issues you’d faced. “I guess. . . anxiety? Depression? Do those count?” 

Dr. Rose hummed in approval and gave a small grin as she went to get a few materials from the cabinet.

“I think the anxiety is worse than the depression, but they’re both persistently just. . . there,” you contemplated what else. . . nothing much was coming to your mind. “I also got my tonsils taken out when I was like 12 years old. . .?”

“You say that as a question,” she commented, a lilt in her voice and a smile on her face, showing that she found it funny. 

“I did have them taken out,” you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself as you pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen out from behind your ear. “I’m just kind of. . .blanking. I know there’s more, but I’m just–just fucking nervous.”

“That’s understandable, sweetie pie,” she assured, her thick Southern accent making your heart rate settle just a bit.

“I know I’m probably missing a few things. Like, there are parts of my childhood that are hazy at best, so there might be things buried back there that I can’t tell you today,” you informed carefully, hoping she understood. When she nodded, you took that as your sign to continue. “I’m seeing a therapist right now who is actually helping me dig up some of it, so I might have a few more answers for you next visit.”

There was a moment of silence as Dr. Rose continued to prepare the sonogram machine, the obnoxious clacking of keys and buttons covering the dull electrical hum that surrounded you. However, that singular moment of time seemed to carry on and on as the nerves in your body seemed to twist your gut to the point that your organs felt close to pushing out of your belly button.

It was as if simply mentioning your mental health – and whispering of your past – was enough to send you into a mini spiral. The muted lull of the clinic didn’t help anything. . . the almost soundless environment, wrapping you up in its emptiness and choking you.

Tap, tap . . .  Tap, tap . . .  Tap, tap . . .

You tried to focus on the thrum of your fingertips along the tender skin of your swollen abdomen, hoping and praying it would keep your thoughts at bay.  

She was taking a long fucking time–which you were sure was normal and warranted. 

But, God. The room just started feeling smaller and smaller as the thoughts got bigger and bigger. You were in the room that was about to tell you the truth of the matter and you still seemed so far away from finding out. . . You weren’t sure what to think. 

Were you even ready to see what the ultrasound was about to show you?

Josh must have noticed the nervous energy you were exuding as the stoppers on the legs of the chair made a sharp scraping noise against the sterile linoleum tile, making you cringe the tiniest bit. He moved his chair closer to the side of the table next to you, opposite of where Dr. Rose sat on the other side.  His dark eyes made contact with yours and his brow raised as if to say, ‘are you okay?’.

All you could manage to do was nod in response, brows knitted.

“Alrighty, I’m going to put some of this gel on your belly and then you’ll feel a bit of pressure once we start.”

You were half expecting a chill to make you jolt with the application of the thick gel, much like you'd seen in movies - you know, where it’s freezing cold and uncomfortable - but as it fell against your skin, you were surprised to be met with a warm temperature that relaxed you.  The clean scent of the gel overpowered your nostrils, but not in a bad way.  It gave you something else to focus on as a slight pressure from the head of the wand, came to push lightly against your belly, just above your pelvic bone.

The black and white image appeared on the screen and. . . showed you nothing. 

Nothing. 

Emptiness. Empty stomach.

Amidst the gray static on the screen, there was nothing but a big black spot that resembled a the shape of a bean.  You had to force yourself to look away, an all-too familiar stinging feeling in the corner of your eyes, showing up again.

All this time, the acceptance of your pregnancy and the effort and hard work you’d put in to create a better life for yourself (and this part of him inside you). . . had shown to be completely pointless.  The feeling of hope that you'd begun to welcome into your life was on the brink of shattering and it didn’t help that Dr. Rose wasn’t saying anything. . . wasn’t doing anything aside from sliding the wand against your empty stomach.

God fucking dammit. All of your worst fears were coming to fruition and every moment you stared at the bleak screen you felt the emptiness on the screen envelop your heart until—.

Thump thump.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Josh gently grabbed onto your arm, reassuring, and pointed at the screen above you. On the screen, displayed clear as day right in front of you, was the outline of a baby’s delicate profile.

The soft curve of its forehead, the splotchy spikes of a tell-tale spine, a little belly, the slightest movement of four tiny limbs protruding from the sides and bottom. . . and the tiniest flicker in the center of it all.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as Dr. Rose started to press more buttons and a bunch of small dotted yellow lines showed over the image of your baby, measuring from point A to point B. She was speaking, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to the words she was saying. All you cared about was the miniscule movements on the screen as a leg kicked up or an arm pushed out.  

It was beautiful, striking, amazing, wonderful, unbelievable, and real. . . so very real.

What you had found yourself questioning for weeks wasn’t just a thought, but now cemented reality. The concerns you had and the voice in your head doubting you were silenced to nothing - because the life growing inside you, the product of you and Jake, was right in front of you.  

The product of the best night of your life was finally proven to be the best part of you and it was real.

Thump thump.

The steady sound of a little racing heartbeat drew you back to the present and to the words your doctor was saying to you.

“Profile looks darn good, placenta is anterior, there’s the umbilical cord. . .,” She spoke as she pointed with her finger to each shape of white that was mixed into the static. “Heartbeat is 160, there’s the bladder and the kidneys, oh!” Dr. Rose exclaimed with a chuckle as she seemed to record a movement. Upon playing it back in front of you, she explained the movement as a little hand with five fingers moved up towards a space by the baby’s nose. “The little angel is wavin' at you, mama,” she looked down at you with a knowing smile. 

Your heart swelled more than you’d ever felt in your entire life. This was . . . otherworldly. Absolutely earth-shattering. There were not any words you could string together that would do this moment justice.

“Wow,” you muttered, voice officially clogged with the tears that relentlessly poured down your cheeks. You sniffled. “It’s. . . moving?”

“Sure is,” she winked. “Has been for a while. You have an especially active little one – already. Prepare for some monster kicks here in a couple months, mama.”

“Wow,” you repeated.

“Gets it from their uncle,”Josh said, sniffling behind you.

You smiled over at him. You felt the joy he did. All around. More. This was your baby. Yours and Jake’s. God.

“Exciting, huh, babe?” She asked knowingly. 

All you could do was nod. You weren’t sure you could stop smiling. . . it was hurting your cheeks, but you welcomed it. This was. . . this was everything. Everything you could have ever wished for.

“I know it, honey bun,” she agreed, her red lips perked with joy for you. “Also, according to the size of the baby and the start date of your last menstrual cycle, I would say you are at right about 12 weeks, little missy.”

Once she’d confirmed the gestational age, you saw her scoot the cart back a bit and wipe the wand she’d used with a sterile wipe, putting it back in its slot. Then, she cleaned your belly of any leftover jelly. You just watched from where you were still leaned back, head resting on one arm behind it. She stripped her gloves and tossed them in the nearest waste bin.

“Twelve weeks. Yep,” you breathed, pulling your shirt down. Your cheeks lifted even more at officially knowing (relatively) how old your little bean was. “Based on my last period.”

“Yes. Because, oddly enough, that is technically when the pregnancy started,” she explained. “On the first date of your last menstrual cycle.”

Dr. Rose went to grab a packet, a pamphlet, and a few free-flying papers, all paper-clipped together, from the counter. You sat up as she clicked her way back to you on her stilettos. She kept talking as she handed them to you. “I don’t wanna clog up our time today with all of the technicalities – unless that’s what ya want?” She offered. 

You shook your head no. Today, all you’d come in wanting to know was that your baby was alive. And you knew that now. And fuck, it felt nice. Better than. 

Except . . .

“Is the baby healthy?” You asked worriedly, needing to hear her tell you.

“Positively. One hundred percent, mama,” she confirmed, her teeth sparkling behind her red lips. “From what I could see on the scan, you’ve got a perfectly healthy baby squirmin’ around in there.”

You internally and externally let out a sigh of relief that had needed released for a fat second. The baby was okay. Healthy. Moving. Alive. 

Everything was going to be alright.

You looked down at Josh, his face glowing, cheeks glistening with tears. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked. 

Another tear slipped down his cheek as you felt one well in your eye. You didn’t know why he was proud of you, but the words made your emotions spike. You were proud of the little life inside of you. . . already doing its best to live its best life.

“Back to what I was sayin’ before,” Dr. Rose went on. Your eyes found her, clicking off the machine. “In that paperwork you’ll find all of the technicalities and logistics about the pregnancy. Which vitamins you should take. Prenatals our clinic suggests. Recommended foods to eat. The baby’s size week by week. When I say everything, sweetie, I mean ev-er-ything,” she emphasized in her twang. “You can find the same information on our clinic’s website. There is a help tab on there for our mothers-to-be, but I always provide physical copies for my girls. I also recommend downloading at least one pregnancy tracker app to get notified with updates – it’s just convenient and fun.”

“I downloaded one recently, actually. It’s been amazing. Thank you for everything,” you weakly offered. You also had to know. . . “Will you be the one delivering the baby?”

“Sure thing,” she affirmed. “With ya till ya want rid of me. Speaking of that day, our partnering hospital is Cedars-Sinai, so that is where you’ll end up having the baby,” she paused, bringing her eyes to you. “Since you indicated on the form that you would prefer a planned hospital birth over a planned home birth.”

“Correct. Hospital birth for me,” you affirmed.

“Now, we are going to schedule your next appointment for four weeks from now,” she continued, opening her tablet and typing out the information for her calendar, presumably. “How does December 8th sound, honey bun?”

You didn’t check your calendar, because you would make that day okay. Anything you needed to do to make it happen. “Sounds perfect,” you replied, practically jittering with excitement for the next one. “When will I find out the gender?”

“I always have my girls wait until week 18,” she responded, turning buttons off on the machine before scooting it back where it had started. “So, when you come in for your next appointment, we will actually have ya schedule an extra lil appointment in there to see what our little buddy is in there.”

“Got it,” you told her. 

“Your sonogram pictures will be waitin’ at the front desk for ya,” she said, washing her hands. Then, after she dried them, she grabbed her laptop. “And finally, your due date is–at this point, according to what we know–May 23rd.”

The date was suddenly the most important you’d ever heard. 

It was the day you now felt you’d been waiting for your entire life.

Without ever knowing it. 

This baby was already changing your heart for the better and everyday, it seemed like all the little (alive and moving) bundle of hope did was bring you unadulterated joy. 

The most precious gift that you’d made with someone so precious to you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you’d finished the appointment, Josh had asked if you had any plans. And when you’d said no, he ended up driving you both to a cute little cafe he'd heard about in SoHo. A place that, even from the outside, oozed with a charming aesthetic. 

The two of you sat there, pointing out every single detail of the sonogram pictures, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the tiny feet, tiny hands, and the itty bitty, adorable body that belonged to your baby. . . You had never seen something so beautiful. You were sure of it.

And after that, you’d taken some time to catch up. You’d talked about him and Elsie, Elsie and her travels, and the fact that you’d started going to therapy. (Next to the baby, he was most excited about this.)

All you’d ordered was a Sprite since you weren’t feeling the most hungry as of late. Josh had followed in your lead and only ordered drinks as well. Honey tea and a glass of water. He’d made sure to tell the waitress to grab you a water, too. 

And after a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve your ever-aching bladder, you were back at the table. 

Back at a table where Josh was giving you a look. His eyes were narrowed, a mischievous grin turning his lips up to show a dimple in his cheek.

Just as you’d sat down, the waitress was bringing Josh a new, piping hot tea, since he'd (apparently) already finished the first. 

And then, as soon as she was gone, he was talking.

“I sort of had a weird inkling of something going on. . .,” Josh noted as he stirred, then took a long swig of his tea, steam still emitting from the top. “Goddammit!” He gasped, a pained expression painting his features, as he coughed over the warm temperature of the beverage. “Hot hot hot hot,” he repeated to himself, finding his ice water and taking an even longer swig.

You couldn’t help the burst of laughter that bloomed in your chest, flying past your lips as he continued to down the water. All you got in response was him flipping you off with one long digit, and a wrinkle, knitting his brow.

The sinking feeling in your stomach couldn’t be ignored, though. . . you’d heard what he initially said. How had he known? God. . . how long? Your mind was a frenzy as you forced yourself to stop laughing to focus on the serious subject matter at hand.

“How?”

“Well, y/n,” he replied smartly, motioning to the cup. “It just came from the pot, I’m sure. Don’t you see the damned thing is steaming? Why did I even take a–?”

“No,” you stopped his rambling to clarify your question. “How did you . . .? Did you seriously know?” As you were still air-quoting the last few words, he was already nodding his head to answer you. “How? Why? What did we do wrong? I-I mean- God. Do Sam and Danny know, too?”

“Now, I didn’t say I knew,” he corrected you, feeling at the sides of the mug to test the temperature. And, yet again, he was met with the scorching temperature, thus hissing and placing his hands around the plastic of the water cup. “In essence, I said I had an idea. And you didn’t do anything wrong. I just– he’s my fucking twin, y/n,” he set you with a stare that said ‘Remember?! Can’t fool me!’, before he continued. “And where you’re concerned. . . I know you very well. You’ve been my best friend for several years. . ." he reminded you. "Oh, and I’m also a fucking empath. Which you, my dear, were the first one to ever point out my empathic tendencies. . .,” he winked at you with a grin on his full lips. “You should’ve known you couldn’t keep that shit from me. Not without me getting suspicious as hell.”

“Are you mad?”

He stuck his lip out, looking down at the tea, running his finger tip along the rim of the mug before he wrapped his hands around it again. Apparently not at a burning temperature anymore, he decided to bring the cup up to his lips, pinky up as he gripped the handle. This time, he closed his eyes in relief at the taste of the honeyed tea on his tongue. When he placed it back down, he continued watching it, lips still pushed out in a pout as he shook his head, brow wrinkled.

“Nah,” was all he supplied, his eyes hyper focused on the white ceramic mug.

Of course, you were not convinced. “Josh. Look at me.”

When his eyes slowly slid up to find yours, you found at least one reason he hadn’t been looking at you. There were wet pools accumulating in the ducts of his deep brown eyes. He breathed in deeply, his chest expanding with the giant breath before he blew it out, a lone tear making its way down his cheek. 

“I–,” he started, shaking his head and messing with the front of his curly mop of hair. He dropped his hand to tap against the table. “It’s not that I’m mad. It’s really hard to make me mad. I’m more mad at Jake. He makes me mad very easily when he wants. Because I know he can do better. . . Like starting this with you and not having the balls to see it through and leaving you with a baby in your belly.” It was as if the steam had been transferred from his cup to his ears, his nostrils were flaring as he shook his head and squinted his eyes shut. 

Damn, he and Jake look very similar when they get angry, you suddenly discovered.

“And now, he’s just been fucking Maya while you’ve had to deal with–.”

The tears came instantly. Your vision was blurry before you were even able to process that the tears were there. 

“Oh my god, y/n. I’m so– fuck. I’m sorry,” Josh tried, his tone willing you to hear him out. 

You blinked furiously, covering your eyes with one hand. But, finding it useless to try to hide the tears, you just let them fall freely as you now took deep breaths, your eyes piercing through the window of the cafe. “Can we please not–?”

“Y-yeah, Goddammit,” he nervously fluffed the front of his hair. “Y/n, please look at me.”

Forcing your eyes away from the clear autumn sky, you found his eyes, earnestly begging for you to listen to him. “He wasn’t– he hasn’t– I don’t–,” he growled under his breath, reaching forward for your hand. Which you only stared at until he spoke next. “Please, just take my hand.”

So, you did as he asked and looked at him with desperately sad eyes. 

He watched you carefully for a few minutes, letting the tears leave as he reassured you and apologized a couple more times. 

He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times before apparently deciding on a new conversation. “When did you guys begin. . .?”

You knew he was asking when you’d started fucking his brother. But he obviously wasn’t going to say it. 

Nice turn in conversation, Josh.

“It’s complicated,” you offered wetly, not in the mood to talk.

He hummed, before raising a brow with searching eyes. He was trying to get through to you. “Was it that night at Baby’s All Right?”

How the fuck did he know that–?

But, like you said, it was more complicated–because, no, it really didn’t start at Baby’s. 

“Technically," you sniffled, swiping a finger, then a thumb under both of your eyes. "It started before and after that night. It was a long, drawn out thing that shouldn’t have ever started.”

Instantly, you felt guilty. 

The words felt wrong to say. . .the first thing coming to your mind – the baby. 

If it hadn’t started, you wouldn’t have the baby. The sweet little bean in your belly with a beautiful, beating heart. You placed a steady hand against your tummy to make up for the harsh words. 

And the second thing. . . you couldn’t begin to imagine never getting to be that close to Jake. . . you were grateful it had started. . . But you also hated yourself for ever letting yourself get so tied up in Jake Kiszka.

Figuratively and literally. God. Stupid.

“Yes, it should have,” he affirmed, your eyes flickering to him. “For my niece or nephew alone.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, eyes filling with more tears at the conversation and the spiraling thoughts in your mind. “But, I guess, if we are getting technical. . .," you sniffed. "It started that night he left the venue so pissed and you were equally as pissed with him.”

He seemed to think on that for a second or two, trying to go back to the night to which you were referring. Once he finally found it, his eyes lit up with a twitch on his lips. 

“He was mad that night,” he remembered, his hand squeezing yours. You decided to pull yours away from his as you felt it beginning to perspire. Wiped them on your pants, waiting for him to continue. “And now I know why. You weren’t there.”

“Essentially, yes,” you confirmed with a tilt of your head. You couldn't help but snicker with the next part. “It started when I got home.”

Josh’s lips stretched to the point that his eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed out. He blew out a breath while his eyes stayed huge. “And that is all I need to know about that night.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression and his words, to which he lightened with you, falling into a soft moment of laughter alongside you. 

When the humor died down, he took the initiative to speak. And you let him. You really weren’t feeling like talking. The smells of the cafe, for one, were starting to make your stomach turn. “I could’ve guessed that it started around that time,” he began. You quirked a brow, asking him to explain further. “He . . . he changed around that time.” You didn’t speak, which told him to continue. “You see, when he first got to New York, he was so fucking surly and rude. He wasn’t just like that with you, mama. He was short as hell with me, too. And the other guys got his bad side – especially Sammy. His heart was broken and he didn’t know how to handle his shit. He started coming back into himself around that time, though. . .Middle of summer. He sort of peaked around the middle of summer. And if I am doing the math right. . . that is when it was happening?”

You nodded an affirmation, impressed by the quick math. 

“Yeah, he was Jake again,” he expressed, eyes tearing up again. “He was joyful for the first time in years. I hadn’t seen him act so freely and fun since before he and Amelia started dating. There was always something stopping him when he was with her – she was stopping him. But you. . . you must’ve encouraged him to be himself. You didn’t turn down the challenge. You took a chance on my brother.”

After considering the words, the lightbulb appeared above your head. That conversation the day in the record shop. The same day you’d played over and over again to convince yourself out of being with Jake. You’d focused on the other words so much that you’d forgotten all about the positive things–the possibilities that had been discussed that day.

You remembered it now. You'd been talking about high school. And how Jake had sort of decided to fuck all when Josh hadn't. . . and it had turned into you bringing up your love of a challenge. 

Josh had nodded, lips turned down, his eyes still holding a little glint. “Yup. Get my point now?”

“Yeah, but like I just said, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. Just like you, Josh. And your brother. . .I’ve learned he is nothing if not a challenge.” 

He had nodded, knowing you were right. And he’d known you long enough to know that you did indeed enjoy overcoming any problem life may hand you.

God, what had happened to you? Where had the desire to accomplish challenges gone?

Why had you given up? Had you given him up? Or had you simply been done with that challenge? Had Jake just been ready to fly? Had you done what was best?

But, you sidelined those thoughts and decided there were more important matters at hand. Like Josh telling you more about how he was feeling.

“So. . . you’re not hurt?” You asked, your voice hoarse from not talking. You cleared it, and tried again. “You’re not hurt?”

“A little, I guess,” he nodded, eyes studying you.

“That’s fair,” you encouraged – glad he was sharing his heart. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I just kept hearing your voice in my head–that same day we talked about challenges– that same day you’d told me something and it repeated itself over and over to the point that I tried to resist things happening with Jake. Mostly for you, Josh. I didn’t want to betray you. Didn't want him to betray his dreams. But then it just became something bigger that I couldn’t control. It was . . . different than anything else I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Did you want to stop it?”

“I tried to convince myself that I wanted to . . . but I never did. Not really. I wanted him the whole time, but I felt wrong for it. I was totally disregarding what you’d said to me. . . Going against your wishes for him.”

His eyes got big as he took another sip of his tea, that at this point, was probably lukewarm. But if it was, his face didn’t show it. He licked at his lips and peered at you pensively, curiously. “God, y/n. I’m sorry. What did I even say? I don’t remember,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I hate that my words have been just fuckin’ tormenting you, mama. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you said, pointing your finger at him, your eyes serious to communicate your point. “You don’t be sorry. I’m the one who was in the wrong. Not even Jake, necessarily,” you included the last part, just on Jake’s behalf. “I was the one who did it even after you’d confided in me that you were happy Jake was getting to live life for himself for the first time – without having to worry about being hung up on a girl. And, then I just let myself be that girl you didn’t want for him – I was the girl to get in his way while he should’ve been living for himself.”

“In the spirit of fairness, though, I told him that he needed to take a break from women. He didn’t listen to me either. Well, sort of. . . he actually did follow my advice, I guess,” he encouraged, his eyes searching yours. “Because I also told him that I wanted him to think of what he wanted first.” His tone lifted as he winked at you. 

Your brow wrinkled . . . what was he trying to say? 

He continued, “Which, I guess, my dear, after the dream . . . was you.”

Feeling suddenly lightheaded and loopy with Josh’s words, you let them settle for a minute or two before saying anything more. 

And, the waitress had perfect timing. She filled the open air by asking if you needed anything. First time she’d been back in a hot damn second. Josh asked for a new tea, and you asked for another glass of Sprite. 

All that you could think in that moment was that you really had been the opposite of the right thing for Jake. So, you decided to speak your mind.

“But. . . no,” you declined his words, shaking your head. “No, Josh. He didn’t put himself first – he had a woman – me – that he was focused on instead of learning himself.”

He took a bit to consider your words, his eyes squinted at you as he pursed his lips. The waitress came back to the table as the conversation lulled for his response. 

As soon as she left, though, the two of you were back to it.

“Y/n,” he began, his lips growing into a sure smile. His hands came to clasp in front of him, his hair bouncing with each disbelieving shake of his head. “He did. He moved here. He started pursuing the dream. He got a job he loved by teaching lessons.” Thus meeting Maya, you snarkily thought. “He did put himself first. Did all of that, and then he pursued you.”

. . . you hadn’t really thought of it that way. Not once had you considered that. 

God. What if you’d told Josh a long time ago? Chances were, he would’ve eased your fears and worries. . . but instead, you’d assumed he’d think the worst and let your thoughts derail. 

Would you even be in the predicament you were today? 

You knew the answer. The answer was most likely no. You wouldn’t have the baby because there would’ve never been a night - the night - to relieve your Jake-induced stress. Because you would have already taken the time to talk to Josh. . . He would have reassured you before you even had time to ever get to that depressive point.

Would he have convinced you to be with Jake? 

You didn’t know. . . but. . . it was too late now. 

You were where you were now and there was nothing you could do about it. 

And none of this ever worked in how Maya had already been in the picture – maybe she had been part of the reason he became happier in the middle of summer.

In the end, she could be the one to thank for this– it could most definitely not be you. The sad truth of the matter was, she had probably been filling his cup all along. . .while he was filling yours.

While you were letting yourself get tangled in him, he was feeling the same emotions. . . but for her. Because, in the end, she was easier than you.

You couldn't find it in good conscience to be with him anyway.

Because, well, you still wouldn’t have wanted to distract him from his dream with a relationship. His dream was too valuable to possibly table for you. You were too much of a mess that he could get distracted by, rather than taking the time to fulfill his dream.

She freed up his time with her carefree nature. And you only infiltrated his time with your darkness. She was sunshine, brightening up his paths.

You had to figure you out before you could ever make someone as happy as Maya made Jake. 

Before you had this baby.

However the tables turned, they had already turned. And it was too late to go back and change anything now. You weren’t even sure what you would change–or what you would think if you could turn back time. There was too much filling up your brain–your life– to make the wisest decision. 

It didn’t matter anyway.

So, you told Josh all you could think to say. The same words you’d thrown nastily in Jake’s face, you threw harshly in your own.

“Well, I guess I served my purpose.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

When Josh pulled your car into your space, Jake’s was nowhere to be found. As always, you couldn't help but wonder where he was. He hadn't worked today so he was probably with-.

“I really am most mad at my brother.”

“Try not to be,” you encouraged lamely. You really didn’t care too much about him being angry at anyone right now. . . all you really cared about was getting upstairs to your bed to take a nice, long nap. It had been a day. 

“I’m going to be for a whi–.”

Tap tap tap.

Both of your eyes turned to Josh’s window. Outside of the driver’s side was Jake. You could see all the way down his loose shirt. It was open and tempting his tanned skin and firm chest, while his necklaces hung loosely in front of him, as he was bent over to peek into the car.

But. . . you could see the heated glare from his eyes, even through the tint of his Ray-Bans. His nostrils were flared and his lips had curled into a faux smirk. 

When Josh rolled his window down, you heard Jake's breathy chuckles that had no indication of anything truly humorous behind them. They sounded more bitter than anything else. 

“What have you two been up to?” he questioned, the inflection on the word ‘you’ paired with his snide tone told you he was probably less than thrilled to see you and Josh together. Alone, at that. 

But why? Why the fuck would he care?

You were struck completely motionless and silent, feeling nauseous again, desperately trying to swallow down that all too familiar sensation. But this time, it wasn’t due to the hormones wreaking havoc in your tummy, it was Jake’s presence at this incredibly horrid time that had your belly flipping in slow motion somersaults. 

Josh huffed a laugh that nearly replicated Jake’s. Mimicking his twin to further his irritation, no doubt. You knew Josh was in no mood to put up with Jake’s piss-poor attitude, especially given everything he had discovered. You were tightly holding your breath at whatever the hell could possibly come from Josh's mouth, hoping that he would say as little as possible.

“Funny that you should ask, Jacob,” Josh retorted. He turned his head to the left to make eye contact with his twin, his fingers were still gripped to the steering wheel with a force that turned his knuckles stark white.

What was he about to say? Shit. He knew better. . . right?

“Because," Josh began. "I don’t exactly believe it’s any of your business what we're doing. In fact, I know it’s none of your business.”

Ironic. . . because it most definitely was his business. He just didn’t know it. Not yet.

He flashed Jake his classic Josh grin, extra wide with eyes squinted, an extra, added dramatic flair of his fluttering eyelashes to seal his condescending statement. 

You let out the breath you had been holding, thankful that Josh kept from saying too much. This was not how you wanted Jake to find out. Although, you still had no idea when or how you would approach that. 

All you knew for sure, was that this wasn’t the right time. 

Jake had stood firm the entire time, a brow raised with an obviously fake grin that held his lips in a tight line. His first response was a snicker through his nose and a patronizing simper, just shy of a full on scowl. 

“‘Kay, got it,” he sneered. Then, he was patting the side of the driver's door with his opened palm before swiftly turning on his heel to walk away. He forcibly shoved his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans as he sauntered off, and you couldn’t help but notice how it stretched the fabric even tighter against his perfectly, rounded ass. A sight you still fawned over, admittedly. 

How could you not?

But you broke your gaze quickly once Josh turned to face you once again. Even though he finally knew about the special addition that you shared with his brother, you’d still feel awkward (and a little guilty) as fuck if he watched you gawk over him so openly. Especially on a day so sensitive as today.

Josh had let out an exasperated sigh deep from his lungs, his jaw clenched and hard when he finally shut the humming engine off. “I have so much that I want to say to him,” he muttered, mostly to himself as his tone was hushed.

Yeah. Me fucking too, you thought to yourself. Don’t you think I get it?

Without the engine running, the car had become dead silent. The type of silence that allowed you to hear the rapid beating of your own heart clearly in your ears. (You even thought for a moment that you could hear Josh’s, too. That kind of quiet. Like earlier. Right after you'd told him.)

It gave you time to ponder. . . Despite his incredible response to all of this today, you still worried. Because, for the first time in the literal years of having Josh as your safe haven, you feared that things could have changed far too much for him to ever look at you the same again.

But then, your never ending train of overthinking was put to a halt when he placed a loving hand on your knee. When his warm eyes connected with yours, they reassured you that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. At least not anytime soon.

“You ready to go inside, mama?” 

His sweet smile that you had loved for years lit up his once hard features. Seeing the signature grin lifted some weight off your heavy shoulders.

You nodded your head and unbuckled your seatbelt as he did the same. But as you lifted the latch on the passenger door, another thought began clouding your mind, a question that you felt you needed to ask someone. That you needed to ask Josh.

“Hey. . .,” you started as he already had one foot out the door.

He stalled his movements and promptly turned his head to face you. 

“Yeah?” he answered, the same smile still cocked in the corner of his mouth.

“When should I tell him?”

He situated himself back inside, resting his back against the dark leather. His eyes were cast on yours, soft and kind as you’d always known them to be, yet a seriousness found within them. 

“That’s up to you, mama. You have to decide when the time feels right.” His gentle hand reached to grab your shoulder in a reassuring gesture, effectively pulling you away from your burdening thoughts. 

Once you’d finally made your way out of the car, you heard him clear his throat and looked to see what else he had to say. He was squinting at you through the autumn day’s rays when he finished the line of thought he’d started in the car.

“But. . . knowing my twin, he’d want to know sooner rather than later. Don’t wait too long, love. He’s got a good heart, you know that. Give him the chance to step up like I know he will.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Friday, November 11, 2022

You’d missed the show completely. As you knew you would. 

Josh had known you were going to show up later than usual since your school work was (quite actually) burying you. Specifically, it was thanks to a 20-page paper that was due tonight. 

Thankfully, you’d been able to finish it in time to at least meet the boys at the bar (smoke free, Josh had clarified on the phone) they’d decided to hang out at after the show. You hadn’t hung out with them after a show in forever. Hadn’t even been to a show in. . .well, you didn’t even know how long.

The reason could be mostly chalked up to your intense homework load this semester, but part of you knew you’d also been trying to avoid them due to the addition of Maya. 

It just didn’t feel the same anymore. And you knew you couldn’t force yourself to pretend. So, the extra school work turned out to be a pretty good excuse. At least you weren’t fabricating anything when you’d told them you couldn’t make it. (Although you would prefer if you didn’t have so much fucking homework.)

But you did miss watching Jake perform. You missed the faces he’d make while playing his guitar, the ones that so closely resembled the one’s he’d make with you. The way he’d thrust himself into his beloved instrument, or pull it close to his body with a force that left your head reeling and your body in dire need for him. 

As much as you missed all of that, something you missed even more was witnessing how his passion exuded through his entire body while he played. How his love for his art was so wonderfully evident as he put so much of himself into every song he played. 

And with the way your body kept betraying you – literally pulsing with desire for him anytime he was simply near you . . . to the point of needing to relieve yourself with your hands or a toy. . . You were weak as fuck. You figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to watch him perform like that with your hormones going ballistic.  

Too many factors worked together to make you feel rather uncomfortable about being near him in that capacity. But. . . here you were. Waiting at the bar for them to arrive. 

Putting yourself in a situation where he’d inevitably be near – sitting at the same booth as you, most likely. Admittedly, it wasn’t your most incredible idea. But Josh telling you the other guys had been missing you made you realize how badly you’d missed them. 

So. Here you were. Scrolling on pregnant influencers’ Instagram pages for helpful tips and testimonials (and occasionally Jake’s page, just to torture yourself) as you waited for them.

Just as you’d thought to send Josh a text letting him know you were at the bar and sitting at a booth near the back, you felt the urge to pee like no other. Your belly had sort of popped in the few days that had transpired since your first ultrasound. You were learning that twelve weeks on your body was the. . . rounder version of twelve weeks. . . Which was not working in your favor to hide your changing body. 

Thankfully, the rest of your body looked mostly the same as normal – save for your boobs which were still about as big as they were in your Shining twin costume (not growing too much more yet, but continuing to be sore as hell). They weren’t giant, per se, but they definitely looked noticeably bigger and felt fucking heavy.

So, you were officially having to wear looser-fitting clothing to avoid anyone looking at you differently. To be fair, to most eyes, it probably would've looked like some weight gain around your midsection if you wore normal clothing. But to you, it literally just looked like you were pregnant. 

You were definitely getting used to waking up every morning to a body that looked just a little different than the day before. Noticed every little change—but they didn’t feel little to you. . . Anything that changed felt massive to you.  

. . .Hence why you were being overly cautious with the giant sweaters. . . Because, to you, it looked so obviously different that you didn’t want to risk people thinking anything or asking any questions.

And, thanks to your newly expanding uterus and a spike in your progesterone (according to your Ovia app), you were beginning to actually wiggle in your seat from the urge to pee. It was all rather unkind on your poor bladder. . .  You had to fucking relieve yourself soon or you would be peeing your leggings. It would be embarrassing as hell to pee yourself and smell like it for the entire evening.

Though, you realized, as people started filtering in, that you couldn’t get up to pee. . . It was too much of a risk that you’d lose the one big booth to this hastily growing Friday night crowd.

Just as you’d started contemplating your lack of options, a particular laugh you’d gotten (unfortunately) used to, made its way through the crowded bar. Your eyes zoomed to the dark haired, caramel-skinned beauty who’d taken up residence in Jake’s life. 

Maya. 

Her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. . . Directing every eye in the front of the establishment to her as they joined in on whatever she was laughing about. She was a force to be reckoned with and it was obvious anytime you saw her. You were pretty sure you could see her chocolate eyes actually sparkling, all the way from across the bar.

Then, here you were in a giant ass Pratt hoodie with plain black, ratty leggings and your white Chucks. Feeling bloated and gross. . . And still needing to really fucking pee. So you had to put your insecurities to the side and get up from the spot you’d effectively heated up for the last twenty minutes because your one and only solution had just walked in. 

You didn’t want to walk away and lose your spot, so you did the only thing you could think to do. 

“Maya!” You called in her direction, tucking your phone into your hoodie pocket with one hand while the other waved at her. An incredibly forced smile was plastered to your face. 

Is this the first time I’ve ever spoken to her? You wondered briefly. 

Even though you knew the answer. 

Yes, definitely the first time I’ve ever talked to her. Weird. And funny fucking cause for it, too, you giggled to yourself, just behind your close-mouthed grin.

It was as if she’d already seen you, because she looked at you with a knowing look. She sent you a (stupid) wink and a (stupid, yet admittedly kind) wave, along with a wide smile—bright white teeth complimented by her full lips. 

Standing up had caused your bladder to go into emergency mode—a sensation similar to nearly bursting was the only way you could describe it. And, strangely, you suddenly felt sort of dizzy from the overwhelming pressure. 

That’s odd, you thought absently, brows wrinkling ever so slightly with the feeling. Ignoring it, you kept waving. And, the smile slipped from your face as you urgently motioned her over. Getting the hint, she said goodbye to the few patrons she’d been talking with and made her way to you. 

Long, wavy hair, inky as the night sky, flowed in waves around her shoulders as she sweetly pushed through people on the way to the booth. 

Every man she passed had to do a double take, watching her as she passed by them. . . You didn’t blame them. She was a fucking dream. (And you hated it.)

Body positively snatched and voluptuous in her all-black outfit. Her large breasts, exposed just right in her extremely low-cut black shirt. The shirt dipped all the way to the middle of her rib cage, exposing a lot of her perfect, perky breasts and tight abdomen. The tiny waist just below the dip was intimidating at best and had you feeling extremely self conscious of your nearly non-existent waist (thanks to the tiny friend living inside of you). You were glad you couldn’t see her ass, because you knew the exquisitely round part of her would have you heading for the door rather than the restroom. 

God, why did she have to look like a damn model? It was the worst possible thing for you. You were sure of it.

Once she was finally at the table, you didn’t want to stand there and stare at her. She had you feeling ready to jump out of your unfamiliar, changing body. Made you feel like nothing, just by standing there.

And, most importantly, you were nearing the risk of peeing with a singular movement at this point. You really weren’t sure how you’d make it to the restroom, but you had to try. 

You were already toeing around the table, out of the booth, when you spoke to her, averting your eyes and finding the restroom sign instead. “I’ve gotta pee really fucking bad,” you hastily said, taking the final step from the back of the booth. “Can you save this table for me so we have a place to sit?”

“We?” She questioned. “Y/n, I would definitely normally save it for you and your friends, but I have to work on finding my own place since I’m waiting here for Jake and the—.”

“Jake and the guys, I know.” You snapped, eyes flashing as you finished for her, not focusing on your facial expression. You were almost positive you rolled your eyes at her comment. 

Does she not know? Why? Did no one tell her?

Bouncing on the heels of your feet, back and forth, you quickly continued. Matter at hand. “I’m here to hang with you guys, too, but I’ve gotta—.”

“Pee!” She finished, a giggle that was probably supposed to be cute left her lips. “Go! I’ll save it. Go, go, go!” 

You were already walking away with her last sentence, hearing her from behind your back as you focused on not wetting your pants on the way to the ladies room. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got back out, you were instantly met with the sight of all of the guys at the back booth you’d saved.

Your eyes, sadly, found Jake and Maya first – sitting practically on top of each other in the back corner of the booth. She was wrapped up in Jake, while engaging in a conversation with Sam. And, even though she seemed to only be halfway listening, Sammy kept on talking like she was interested in only him. 

But with the way Jake’s hand toyed with the hair over her shoulder and eventually traveled to squeeze (and hold) her waist. . . you knew why she wasn’t fully listening. Sammy would not be getting her full attention any time soon, and you knew that from personal experience. If it were you Jake was playing with like that, you would have tuned Sam completely out. 

Pushing any emotion down that threatened to boil up to the surface, you kept on walking to the booth. 

And when you got close enough, all of the attention was suddenly on you. The first one to notice you was Danny, who got up from his end seat on the booth to greet you with a giant hug. You sank into him, feeling all of the love that he was emitting sink into your sore body. 

Then, Sam was loudly exclaiming your presence, telling you that he was waiting for his own hug. 

You went around the three brothers who wanted to give you a squeeze. 

Sam hugged you especially hard, making your boobs ache like no other when he pressed hard against you. Gratefully, Josh had been paying attention when you caught his eye with a pained expression and had loudly determined that it was his turn.

After Josh had grasped you from Sam and given a loose hug, you stood awkwardly. Waiting. But for what?

But. . .you knew what. . .knew why.

It was Jake’s turn. 

Though, all you got was a little close-lipped smile and a half-wave with a head nod from his spot next to his supermodel girlfriend. 

You reciprocated with essentially the same response, your stomach falling to your feet as you did so. It was ludicrous to think he’d get up for a hug, too. Especially with Maya sitting next to him with her perfectly-fucking-manicured hand clutching the inside of his thigh. 

God, you needed to feel him close to you, though. You needed your hand on his inner thigh, dangerously close to a place on his body that’d been so accustomed to yours. You couldn’t help the way you yearned for him to be inside of you again. . . It was fucking embarrassing as hell.

And, then there was an incredibly intrusive thought. 

It told you that, for some (strange) reason, the idea of his pecs pressing into your sore breasts. . .sounded extremely appealing. (And the thought of his hands or his warm, wet mouth on them? Fuck.) 

But— you knew at this point, there was a fat chance of that ever happening.

He didn’t want you near him like that. And definitely not his hands or mouth on you. So you were sure he did not want a measly hug either.

And right now? In this bar? At this exact time? Obviously-fucking-not. Why would he move away from perfection? For you? In your frumpy-ass outfit? As you glanced down self-consciously, you even noticed one white sock peeking way higher than the other from your high-tops. 

Small details. Small details that showed how much of a fucking mess you were in comparison to her.

When you heard his laugh cut through the wave of emotion you were feeling, you looked back up at him. Only to see that he was engaged with Maya and Sam in some (apparently) hilarious conversation. 

He didn’t give two shits about you that way anymore. Why would he?

The terrible things you’d said to him in the kitchen were the first reason that came to your mind. Haunted you everyday, reminding you that you didn’t deserve his attention. 

You bet she, in her utter perfection and 'sunshiney' ways, would never tell him the things you had. He was probably relishing in the mental break she provided him. A break from the emotional thunderstorm that was you. 

But what the two lovebirds didn’t know was that you were carrying a part of him within you that she couldn’t do a thing about. No matter what she was to him, she didn’t have what you did. 

Though, the depressing truth of the matter was even if you were carrying his baby, Maya was still the one falling asleep next to him more nights than not. You had a piece of him, yes, but she had all of him. 

Fuck. That felt selfish. Without even thinking about it, you brought your hands up to your stomach as an effort to apologize to the little lemon-sized baby in your tummy. 

You are enough for me, you desperately thought, looking down, hoping to translate the words somehow to your unborn bundle of hope. You give me plenty of joy. 

“Y/n,” Josh spoke, breaking you from your reverie. 

“Mmm?” You hummed.

Then he was leaning over, whispering so quietly in your ear. “You’re about to give particular notice to your stomach.”

Shit. You instantly dropped your hand, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. 

Thankfully, no one had. 

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend, and scooted into the space he and Daniel had left for you, between them, on their side. 

Sitting again helped to balance you, as the dizziness from earlier kept coming back in tiny spurts. You didn’t know what it was all about, but you knew it was probably something attributed to pregnancy. It was probably something normal that you didn’t need to be worried about. 

But, you figured having someone to lean on would help to keep you steady. So, you found Josh’s shoulder, pressing against him. It was more than necessary, so you let your shoulder lazily lay against his arm. The closeness to a safe person felt overwhelmingly comforting in the otherwise emotionally-wrought headspace you were experiencing. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

About an hour later, you found yourself humming along to the music that had gotten progressively louder over the time you’d been sitting with the guys. Getting lost in the melodies felt nice. And you’d noticed, walking in that night, that it was soul music night, according to the sign on the front door of the bar.

Your favorite.

After sitting with them for only a few minutes, making small talk with Sam and Danny to catch up, you’d essentially let yourself become an observer. You’d just listened to them talk about all of these new, sudden opportunities that were coming around for them.

So much was changing. 

They were essentially done with the smaller gigs. Their label’s management had put their foot down that they were done with those. They wanted them going to more popular, reputable places to get their name out there. The label had taken it upon themselves to work with their manager to put them in bigger venues. They’d even begun advertising the boys with promotional pictures and posters all over active streets in Brooklyn.

“We’ve had photoshoots, y/n,” Sam had boasted in wonder at one point, making sure to involve you in the conversation. “Photoshoots! Like, real rockstar things.”

“‘S fucking nuts,” Daniel agreed, nodding beside you, sending you a small smile. “People working on wardrobe for us and all that shit.”

“Well, you are rockstars,” you told Sammy genuinely, letting your eyes skate to each of the boys (save for one). But, when you finished your statement, you let your eyes find him. And his eyes literally melted into yours. Like he’d been waiting for you to acknowledge him. “You’ve been ready for this for a long time. I’m just glad you are finally getting to live it.”

But you tore your gaze away before it could become too much. Though, the snicker you heard from Maya made your eyes cut to her. You forced yourself to hold your tongue. Didn’t trust yourself with what might come out of your mouth. What had her feeling all bitter and shit? She didn’t get the fucking half of it.

That particular thought had your hands falling to clasp tightly against your tummy, thankfully hidden by the table. 

They’d also begun working on their first album (which you knew about), but its release date had officially been set in stone for May. It was daunting for you and felt huge to you, so you couldn’t imagine how it felt for them. 

It was all moving so fast. . . Which, if you were being honest, terrified you for what was to come in the near future. The little bean that was set to arrive around the time of the album’s release. Because of all of your recent . . .changes, it just felt like a terrible time for things to feel so unsure and abnormal. 

You knew it was selfish to feel that way. You did. It was just impossible to not feel worried and anxious. 

The stress inevitably started climbing up into your upper back, creating tension. And, Josh, being Josh, must’ve sensed a change in your demeanor. He’d wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you started feeling all bunched up and jittery. You’d leaned into it, needing the incredible amount of comfort in his embrace and presence. 

The music was setting your mind at ease from the tension you felt in your body. It also helped to alleviate the awkward air you felt with the proximity of Jake’s guest. Who sat there looking so beautiful all night. Jake’s arm hadn’t left her shoulders all night, twirling her long waves between his long fingers. You had to look away at several points. It didn’t take long for the sight to become too much. Your ever-present nausea only increased by watching them. 

So you didn’t watch. Didn’t allow yourself to look at him.

You breathed in the music. The music saved you. You just listened to the music. The world was a blur. 

But, when they all joined in on mutual excitement, all smiles and voices getting louder, you tuned back in just slightly.

And when you did, they were talking about one particular thing they were all looking forward to: a special event of sorts that was coming up. 

Apparently it was a huge thing for this event to take place. One final step before embracing the stardom. It would happen in a few months’ time — once the label execs heard a few songs, and released them as singles. Then, they would get to preview them to the public. 

It would be an intimate type of event, more like old times, but for a few semi-important people who worked for the tour management team and whoever else wanted to come. It would be a listening party where the boys would play their new music. And according to the boys, it was the label’s attempt to get an idea of touring being a possibility. 

A lot of it was pinned on if the turnout was good. On how the guys interacted with the crowd. How the performed. . . It would be a sort of audition for the tour management team. 

“I have faith that they’ll love us,” Sammy said, buzzing with excitement. “I’m speaking that shit into existence.” 

The rest of the guys agreed.

Your eyes inadvertently snapped to Jake when he spoke next. “And once we start touring. . .,” he said, grin huge and his eyes shining at the other guys. “That’s when it all becomes fucking real. And it’ll be here before we even know it.”

Your stomach fell.

Josh squeezed your knee after he’d said it, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Your thoughts were fucking spiraling. Looking down, you closed your eyes to will the tears away— tried your best to be subtle with your bundled up emotions. 

You felt so excited for him. You wanted it for them—for him. All along, you’d wanted him to live his dream. The one he’d had for so long. But the idea of him going off and away. . . All of them being so far away, all of the time, right at the time your life would be inevitably changing for the rest of forever. . . It was a lot to wrap your mind around.

It had your stomach tied in fucking knots—the idea of Jake being a dad, but not getting to be one. Leaving you. Leaving the baby. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, per se, but it was going to hurt like hell. 

You swore, right then and there, that you would not let him give it up for anything. Not a baby, definitely not you (not that he’d want to abandon it for you) — it was the last thing you wanted. The last thing that would happen. 

He would live the dream. Even if you had to force him to do so.

No matter how badly you already knew you’d  want him around during that massively  transformative time. . . You were capable of doing it on your own. And Elsie would help. She would most definitely be around, you already knew. 

But. . . Jake. 

You shoved the thoughts down to the tresses of hell, literally planting your feet flat on the floor to center yourself to present time. Shifting a bit, you laid your head on Josh’s shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed after a while. Didn’t sleep, no, but you felt like you could have. Your body felt loose and weak from the night’s stress slowly leaving your body as you focused on Josh’s steady breathing and the music. 

As the night wore on, the volume had ended up getting so loud that everyone practically had to yell at one another to have a conversation, even within the close confines of the booth. 

So, you had to blink your eyes open at that point. It was too much. The over-stimulation was soon approaching. You could feel it. You felt. . . heavier than normal. Like, you were being pulled down to the earth with exhaustion. Which was new, but probably just over-stimulation.

Even with your eyes open, they were hooded. You were so tired, you felt as though you couldn’t open them much more. And the dizziness from earlier was back with force. 

So you focused on swaying your body a little to the rhythm of each song, tapping out the beat of each on the table. Josh had instinctively begun humming along with you while still managing to keep conversation with everyone else. He’d sneak the occasional smile to give a sign of him remaining loyal to your company as well as the others’.

The melodious harmonies of Stevie Wonder’s "Please Don't Go" had been a surprise, as it was a more unpopular hit of his. It was a welcome distraction to listen to a song you knew well over the speakers, for all ears to hear. Nothing beat hearing songs you loved, playing in public spaces. 

Oh, Stevie. His songs had historically been known to bring you peace. Always had. Always would. Stevie's music never failed to meet you where you were emotionally. This song, not being an exception, and hitting extremely close to home for the present time. . . But still, the tension you’d felt all night began to dissipate, sizzling out almost completely with the beautiful ending of the track.

Just as the heavy weight of your anxieties you’d carried all night had lifted, the next song started to ring throughout the building.

Only this time, the feeling it gave you was a far cry from the previous. 

You knew it instantly. You’d be able to hear this song even if it weren’t blaring throughout the building. 

As soon as the first note sounded, it sent a vibration straight to your heart and a swarm of butterflies (that actually felt more like bees) to your tummy. 

You hadn’t looked at him yet, but you felt Jake’s eyes piercing through you. 

You didn’t want to look at him. Not yet. 

Your hormones had been far too out of whack for that. You knew you’d cry instantly upon seeing his face while this song played at a volume that you now wish was much, much lower.

Aretha’s powerhouse voice repeated it over and over again. 

You’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need. . .

No, you weren’t looking at Jake. But he was still the only vision clouding your mind’s eye. 

You were back on your living room floor. . . his eyebrows bunched together with each heavy thrust into you, the sweat that accumulated between them, the perspiration and exertion that could only come from real intimacy. . .passion.

And it was plain to see that you were my destiny. . .

His coffee colored eyes that bore into you as his body connected with yours in the most intimate way that it could’ve. 

And when I lose my will, you’ll be there to push me up that hill. . .

How he filled you so completely, stretching you the only way you ever wanted. . . How, in that moment, it felt like he was made to fit you. Your body, your heart, your life.

I don’t know what’s in store, but together we can open any door. . . 

Without even meaning to, your eyes met his. 

And while Maya was going on about whatever she felt the need to talk about, he was watching you. His eyes were extremely thoughtful. . . So much being communicated behind them. 

If you were delusional, you’d even go so far as to say he was admiring you. . . The way his eyes flashed a bit as you watched him, too. 

But you weren’t delusional. 

Though, you just knew that he was thinking the same thing as you. . . He knew. He knew this song was special. 

And as much as you attempted to not wear your emotions, with your condition, it was impossible.

You felt your eyes prick with tears as the song came to an end, and you quickly put your head down for what you knew was coming. And when the small drop hit your cheek, as soon as it appeared, you wiped it away. 

You looked back up, sniffing once and shaking your head.

Why did I have to fucking look?

“God, I wish they’d play music from this century here for once. Or at least something halfway decent,” Maya snickered, her attention on Jake, pulling his gaze away from you with her ignorant remark. “This song could put me straight to sleep. Music like this is meant to be left in the past where it belongs.” 

What the hell? What was even the point? 

What she said had your blood boiling with red hot rage. Of course she had to pick this song to insert her disgusting opinion.

And how was Jake, of all people, in a relationship with someone who thought so little of older music? How did he put up with that shit? It would be really fucking hard to hear things like that all the time if you were in his shoes.

A look of pure disgust washed over Josh’s face, and you knew he wouldn’t take her shit laying down. Not when it came to good, classic soul music. Not to mention, Aretha was one of his biggest vocal inspirations. “How can you not appreciate the Queen of Soul? She paved the way for singers of every genre, her voice is timeless and immaculate. To criticize her is to criticize all music.” 

His defensive tone had everyone silent for an almost uncomfortable amount of time.

You wanted to chime in and let her know that you agreed with everything he said. But you felt it best to keep your mouth shut given the real reason you were so pissed. Didn’t trust your emotions to stay steady enough to get your point across. 

This was personal.

To your shock, it was Jake that ended up breaking the awkward silence at the table. “You know, babe, some of us have some pretty significant memories tied back to music like this,” he asserted, sharply, pulling away from her, dropping his arm from her shoulders to look at her better. “This song specifically. . . At least for me.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at what he was implying. Significant? He couldn’t mean. . .? But then he flashed his eyes to you. And you knew. 

Fuck, Jake. The butterflies let completely loose in your tummy at the implication. At the look. 

He continued, his voice growing softer, while staying assertive. “And it could very possibly be hurtful to others when you say surface level shit like that.”

Maya scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was the first time you’d ever witnessed the woman be something other than a dream. “So I can’t have opinions, hm?” 

“I never said—,” Jake tried, getting interrupted by her continuing. 

She was piercing him with a glare, tone biting. “Did you ever stop to think about how it hurt my feelings when you refused to see 21 Savage with me? And after I got us the tickets, no less?” 

You didn’t mean to snort a small laugh at her words. 

But. . . 21 Savage?!

Thankfully, you weren’t alone in finding amusement in the words as everyone else had a similar response. Sammy spit out the drink he’d just taken, some of it even coming out of his nose. Daniel had clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged it down his face, closing his eyes in the process. 

And Josh turned to you as soon as you turned your sights to him. He made eyes at you, raising his brows with a grin threatening to turn into a laugh. If he could’ve spoken, you assumed he’d say something along the lines of ‘oh, shit.’

Sam was the next to speak, barely able to catch a breath as he wiped the leftover drink from around his mouth with a napkin. “Maya, my dear,” he giggled, the words distorted a little by the wipe of the napkin. “You surely can’t have an emotional connection with his music?”

“Maybe I do,” she retorted, scooting away from Jake a little. Crossing her arms over her cleavage, she eyed Sammy, judgmentally. “Maybe it saw me through some really hard times.”

“Did it?” Danny tried, his face seeming earnest in pursuit to find sense in her music taste. 

“Well,” her eyes found Danny’s, but darted around a bit, still. “Not necessarily. . . But I do enjoy his music. . . Which is my prerogative.”

Josh’s brow was quirked. He stared her down, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Maya,” he cleared his throat. Her eyes found him, hard and defensive. But it was obvious she was losing some steam. “There is a difference between enjoying music and having it change the entire trajectory of your entire life.”

Before she could sputter out a response, the waiter was back at the head of the table with the two pizzas the guys had ordered. 

“One pepperoni pizza,” she said, placing one giant tray of pizza on the table. 

Your nose immediately picked up on the overwhelming scent of cheese and pepperoni. You had never smelt something so greasy. This was even worse than the greasy smell at Waffle House on the morning you’d gone with Elsie. And where there, you could find some sort of nostalgic comfort in the smell of it. . . there was nothing that could make this pizza’s smell appealing. Fuck.

“And. . .,” Sammy’s excited tone broke through your nauseous reverie. 

You didn’t look up, only watched in near agony as the second pizza, filled with every vegetable in the book, was sat right in front of you. Every fucking vegetable had it’s own special, rancid smell that you hadn’t ever noticed until now. 

Goddamn. And it just got worse as you let your eyes follow a slice that Sam took off the tray, cheese so disgustingly stringy, to his waiting mouth. The way his teeth sunk into the pizza and the oil slipped down his chin. . . You felt the bile rise in the back of your throat at the sight. The dizziness set in again. Then there was the cheese that came to the corner of his mouth as he chewed his first bite with an open mouth. 

Closing your eyes, you tried your best to will it away. 

But you couldn’t. It was too late. Behind your closed eyes, all you could see was the sight again, but this time, in slow motion. . . more and more repulsive with every flash of the image. 

You found Josh’s leg, hitting it repeatedly to indicate that you needed out of the booth. Your other hand, held tightly over your mouth, which felt as though it could explode with projectile vomit at any moment. 

That would be real cute. A really effective way to make Jake look at you. . . but not for the reasons you’d want. 

At. All.

Thankfully, Josh got the hint and quickly scooted out of the booth to allow you out. 

And as soon as your feet hit the concrete floor, you were speeding to the bathroom once more. This time, immediately landing on your knees over the toilet with a hand clutching your hair, as you retched the (very little) contents of your stomach into the toilet.

It was alarming, to say the least, as you saw only clear saliva goo floating around in the bowl. . . no food accompanying the sickness you’d just produced. 

I haven’t eaten today, you thought suddenly, wiping your brow of the sweat that had accumulated. Nothing to puke out because everything sounded vile.

And then the dizziness was setting in again as you rose from your place on the ground.

You really hadn’t been eating much at all. And pickles, being the only thing you could stand to eat, did not give you proper nutrients. You knew that. 

Have to figure something out, you decided as you washed your hands. Disturbingly, you saw four hands instead of two and it was daunting at best. Need to go home and do some research so I can figure out how to fucking eat something.

By the time you got back to the booth, you already had your keys out of your belt bag. 

Josh gave you a sympathetic grin. He mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ and you just shook your head, reassuring him with a mimicked ‘It’s fine’ in response.

When you snapped your head up from Josh to say bye to the others, you realized that Jake was watching you closely. Pensively. Unsurely. 

You gulped, setting your eyes on him. If only you knew, Jake. . . But, suddenly, anger was flaring in the place of any butterflies. Lack of food and pregnancy could do that to a person. But you don’t know. So quit looking at me. 

“You feelin’ sick, Baby Dragon?” Sam said, breaking you out of your staring contest with Jake.

“Yeah, noticed you weren’t drinking tonight. . . you okay?” Danny interjected. 

“O–Oh, yeah. No, yeah,” you shook your head, which only caused your head to throb. Shit. “Just tired. Exhausted from school.” And from carrying a human life in my uterus. “I wanna get home and rest.”

“I forced her to come tonight,” Josh added. He looked at you before exchanging looks with the other guys, emphasizing his point to help you out. “She has had her nose to the fucking grindstone. I insisted she needed a night out.”

“Forced her?” Jake scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “God, y/n. If you don’t want to come, then don’t come.”

You fumed at his words. What the fuck? Just minutes ago he was jumping to defend your song. “He didn’t force me,” you growled back at him. Don’t test a pregnant woman carrying your goddamn baby, Jacob. “What he meant was that he encouraged me to come since I haven’t been around for a while.”

“And why’s that?” Jake pushed, continuing to jest at you. Is this a game to you, asshole? 

“Jake,” Josh snapped, tone sharp and heated. 

“School,” you asserted (with a partial lie), shutting your eyes when you started seeing two of him. When you opened them to stare back at him, you focused hard as you continued to see four brown eyes instead of two. “But that’s not really any of your business is it, Jake?”

He was silent, his jaw clenching. Then he looked back to Maya, starting a conversation with her, effectively shutting you out. 

You weren’t sure how long you could put up with the hot and cold act from him. You knew that he was hurt, but you preferred the moments in recent times where he’d shown the soft side of his heart. The Jake side of his heart. 

The one flashing through your mind at this moment was on the night of the Halloween party. When he’d picked up the dropped brownies for you and then offered to help you carry stuff to your room. . . albeit he had been drunk. It’d still been him. You knew it. It was something he’d do. . . you knew him. 

And you knew him well enough to know when he was acting like an ass, it meant he was hurt. You weren’t oblivious to the recent hurt you’d inflicted on him. . . but why was he suddenly reacting like this again? Why now?

When another wave of dizziness took you over, you had to once again shut your eyes to keep your balance, and you held tight to the strap of your bag. Your head was also, once again, pulsing.

You opened your eyes and tried to stay steady, as you didn’t want to worry the three who cared. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your oversized hoodie, you shook your keys at the guys who still watched with concerned eyes. 

“Be safe,” Danny offered sympathetically, reaching a hand out. You grasped it, rubbing your thumb over the back. 

As soon as he let go, Sam was up and pulling you into a hug. Once he’d succeeded in killing your boobs again, he held onto your shoulders. “We miss you,” he said, breath thick with alcohol that was making your stomach turn. You held your breath and tapped at his hand politely before scooting back from him. “Love you, y/n.”

You repeated the phrase back to him before Josh got up, presumably to walk you to the door. “I promise I’ll start coming around more often again,” you told them. “I miss you, too.”

And just before you stepped to head toward the exit, you found Jake’s eyes again. 

They were softer now, showing concern he couldn’t hide at your current state. But there was still that fire behind them that you’d learned was purely Jake. And it made your heart thump a little harder in your chest.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The tiredness was unreal. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were so fucking exhausted. Everything that had been happening recently–the therapy, telling Josh that you were pregnant with his twin’s baby, being pregnant with said baby (and worrying that you weren’t), taking sixteen-fucking-hours of classes. . . it had been a lot. That much was obvious as hell. 

And tonight had been emotionally taxing for sure. . . and knowing you, you knew it was more than extremely possible that the emotions alone had been what’d finally done you in. Drained you for all you were worth.

Well, that, and the lack of food in your system. And the persistent barfing.

You'd been poring over the resources that Dr. Rose had given you access to. And, one of the links on their site had informed you that it was extremely possible for the fatigue to peak around this point of the pregnancy–ten to twelve weeks.

And considering you were right about at 12 or so, it was on the mark.

But when you’d read that, you hadn’t been expecting the feeling to be similar to that of being weighed down to the Earth by heavy-ass lead. You were dying to fall into bed and sleep off the exhaustion–right after taking a measly Tylenol for the pounding headache that’d been burgeoning for the past several minutes. 

All you could do at this specific moment, though, was focus on driving–and pulling into the apartment complex with as much precision as possible. The pain in your head was beginning to make your vision blurry and the things around you waved in ways you knew they weren’t supposed to. Goddamn. 

You finally made it to your parking space–by the grace of some higher entity. But, as soon as you tried to move to get out, everything around you began to spin at an accelerated speed. Moaning, you brought two shaking hands up to your eyes as you closed them. You started to count to ten, trying your best to take deep breaths–but even that was getting hard to do. Fuck. 

Finding your motherfucking bearings was proving to be a task and a half. 

And your head was just fucking throbbing relentlessly. 

“Dammit,” you groaned again, the words slurring just a bit. 

Somehow, though, you were able to make the trek from your car to the complex’s staircase–so close, yet so far, from your place. But you could feel the way your heart was thrumming quickly in your chest—just pounding against your ribcage from the basic action of walking.

Everything began waving around you again. You felt like you were floating and your head was becoming lighter and lighter by the second; the only reminder that it housed a brain was the raging, convulsing feeling in your skull. 

Your vision was incredibly blurry at best, as you looked from the base of the stairs, all the way up to the top. The top of the stairs was hardly visible. 

Shit. How the fuck am I going to climb these steps like this?

But, you weren’t able to contemplate it for much longer before everything started fading more and more, until you felt yourself falling and all you saw was a black abyss.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The hand you felt holding yours was the only thing that weighed you down to the white room. The other things that you immediately noticed: the sound of steady beeping (which was incessant) and the smell of antiseptic and bleach wafting from the bedding. 

The bed itself felt reminiscent of high quality cardboard, but the sheets were warmer than you would’ve expected. 

Letting your body relax back into the warm, polycotton sheets, you began to drift back to wherever you’d been. But you felt something hold you to the present. It was the someone with the hand who was helping to keep you conscious. The thumb that swept purposefully across the back of your hand tied you to the real world before you could escape to the one behind your eyelids.

Then you felt the hand holding yours squeeze the slightest bit tighter. Your lids were heavy when you squinted them open–immediately hating the way the fluorescent lighting assaulted your irises. You didn’t know if it was possible, but you were damned sure you could feel your pupils adjusting to the overbearing beams from the bulbs. 

Moaning, you reached your free hand up to cover your eyes. And when you did, you noticed the influx of tubes, taped to and sticking out of your hand. Specifically, the needle connected directly to your vein. What the fuck was going on?

Amidst your confusion, you finally processed who the hand was connected to as you heard his voice.

“Yes, yes,” Josh said in response to something. You noticed that he was seeming to squeeze your hand in little pulsing intervals. When you squeezed back to indicate you were awake, his eyes were immediately on you, abandoning his conversation. “Y/n? Oh, fuck,” his voice was thick with emotion. His gaze became wet as he checked your face over. “I was so worried about you.”

You didn’t know what to say, since you weren’t really sure why you were here or what had happened to get you here. . . All you could remember was being tired and dizzy with a pounding in your head. 

You tried to speak, but it was in vain, as your throat was dry as fuck. All that came from your lips was a measly croak. But, thankfully, Josh was immediately coming to your rescue with one of the hospital’s giant plastic cups, filled to the brim with water. He held the straw to your lips and you sat up a little to have better leverage to take a drink. To your surprise, the pounding in your head was gone, and there was no dizziness accompanying your movements. 

And no nausea – best part of all.

As soon as the water slipped past your lips, you shut your eyes in utter relief. Water had never tasted so good. You weren’t sure if water even had a taste, but at that moment, you swore it did and that it tasted like liquid gold would. 

Once you’d had enough for the moment, almost draining the large cup, you backed away and leaned into the pillows that awaited behind you. 

Sighing in relief, you tried to say words again. And this time, it worked. “What’s going on?” You slowly spoke, your head still feeling slightly airy. You let your eyes trail to Josh’s, questioning him. “Why am I here?”

Then, you started panicking. You shot up from where you’d settled against the pillows, clutching your stomach. The IV’s connected to your hand pulled at your skin, stinging. You ignored the pain though, and felt your tummy. It was still round, but obviously that didn’t mean– oh no. Your deepest fears came to life in your head, piece by terrifying piece. The baby. 

“Oh, fuck, Josh,” you said, your eyes were wild and immediately drew wetness, which ran steadily down your cheeks. No no no no no. “The baby? Is the baby–? Oh–.”

“Yes, yes,” Josh shushed you, running his free hand over the top of your head. “The baby is fine. Already checked and looks the same as it did a few days ago,” his eyes shone with reassurance. “Nothing is wrong with the baby.”

“Heartbeat?”

“Steady as can be.”

You felt your lungs fill with air again. “Okay,” you breathed out, leaning back into the pillows once more. “Okay.”

“But you on the other hand,” he started, his brow raising and eyes burning into yours. “You need to be giving yourself proper attention, mama.”

“I—?” You shook your head. You knew you weren’t the most attentive to yourself, but you’d tried very hard to be more self-serving recently in some regards. Longer showers, Friends, Cosmic Brownies (RIP) and pickles, therapy (if that counted). . . “I’ve been trying. . .” 

But the vomiting is proving some of that to be impossible, Joshua, you thought silently, snidely.

“What your friend is trying to tell you,” the doctor began. Your eyes shifted to her, an older woman with delicate features whose gray hair was pushed back by a pair of readers. Then her brows wrinkled. “Well—friend? Father of the baby?”

You both spoke at the same time.

“Oh, no—.”

“Not me,” Josh corrected with a laugh, his smile bright and humored underneath his new mustache. “That’s my brother’s baby in there.”

Ridiculously, you began to blush at hearing Josh say it out loud. You were learning that any time it came from his lips, it made your breath catch in your chest just a little.

Jake’s baby. 

“Oh, my apologies,” she smiled, her crows feet wrinkling, voice wise with years of experience. “I just wanted to proceed using the correct title to address you. Speaking of which, I am Dr. Stevens. It’s nice to meet you, Miss y/n.”

“Same to you,” you answered with a tiny, unsure smile and nod. “Thank you.”

Dr. Stevens hummed, then came to sit on the end of the bed, same side as Josh. You eyed her curiously as her expression turned a touch more serious. “Miss y/n,” she said, sounding like you’d imagine a caring mother would. “You are here because your iron was frighteningly low,” she said, concerned and checking your chart. “If it had gone untreated one more night, you would have been incredibly ill and unable to function properly at all come morning.”

“What?” You asked, shocked. Anemia wasn’t a new thing to you, you’d always had it. How had it intensified so quickly? “I mean, sure, I’ve always had mild anemia. Just kind of a thing that’s been there . . .haven’t thought about it in years, actually,” (because of some damn triggering, buried memories attached to it). “But I’ve never had – it’s never been as. . . Intense as this,” you held up your hand that was covered in tape and inserted tubes.

“Well, honey, you’re carrying a baby now who also needs those vital nutrients to help it develop,” she counseled. “And proper hydration,” she reminded. You nodded, eyes zoned in on your hands, full with pieces of plastic and tape, and not her face. When Dr. Stevens spoke next, her voice was the most stern it’d been so far. “And prenatal vitamins– those are essential for you and the baby.”

Your eyes flicked up to hers. The way she pierced you with her stare made you lean back like a scolded puppy. Your tail would have been between your legs if you had one.

Why hadn’t you bought any damned prenatals yet? Fuck all.

“Yes ma’am. I don’t know why I haven’t been taking–,” you tried, huffing. You were ashamed of yourself. “God, I feel bad,” you placed two hands on your tummy and looked down at it through the hospital gown you’d been changed into. “How has all of it not harmed the baby?”

“Well, again, tomorrow would have been a completely different story had you not been rushed in tonight,” she reminded, talking you through it slowly. “But we’ve got fluids pumping through you to get you back to normal.” She motioned to Josh, you looked at him with a small smile that he reciprocated. “And your friend has promised to take you for a prenatal run tomorrow morning. To find the ones that you feel might suit you best.” Dr. Stevens smiled, looking over at your bedside table. Your eyes followed, seeing the small medicine bottle sitting there, waiting for you. “For now, I have a couple ready to send home with you,” she assured.

“I’ve never been the best at prioritizing my health,” you mumbled, messing with a loose thread on the hospital gown. Josh held the hand that was anxiously picking at the material, making you stop. You looked over to see his kind, encouraging eyes. “I have ingrained my brain with several unhealthy, learned habits,” you admitted, finally looking at Dr. Stevens again. “So I guess this was a reality check of sorts. That it’s not just me anymore. I can’t just ignore what I need to acknowledge.”

You didn’t know what was inspiring the constant flow of transparently deep emotions to all of these unknown people in your life, but you weren’t totally opposed to it anymore. 

Dr. Stevens’ face contorted to show that she had sympathy. You were relieved. But when she spoke next, her voice was firm. “You’re right. This baby is forcing you to take care of yourself so he or she can survive and come out healthy and happy. I believe this baby is teaching you some proper life skills. But you need to be eating well to help this child have a good, healthy time in the womb. . .help him or her thrive at this vital stage in its life.”

God. She was right. You had seen the words Failure to Thrive on multiple sources you’d checked out about pregnancy. . . .always just skimmed past them, as it didn’t seem to pertain to you. But, of course it did. The vomiting. Not taking prenatals (seriously, what the fuck, y/n?). The lack of eating anything (save for the baby pickles). . .

You’d been so in your head about the present state of your health that you hadn’t taken nearly enough time to consider the baby. 

“I’ve just never been bad about eating. This is new,” you confided. “And it’s just gotten worse this past week or so. . . I haven’t been able to eat. Everything has made me want to vomit.” Then you decided to add, “Well, everything besides pickles. They’ve been my only source of any nutrients – which I know is pathetic, by the way – I just–just can’t even be in the same room as most food, much less eat it.”

“You’re experiencing a severe case of hyperemesis gravidarum, which is just a fancy way of saying that you’re excessively vomiting during your pregnancy. It’s due to a drastic change in hormones. Your HCG levels are through the roof, where they’re usually not. Most women just have to suffer through it,” she said in response, handing you sheet with the fancy medical term at the top. “That is an information sheet. Keeps you informed on the ins and outs of why you might be experiencing it.” She sighed before going on. “It will pass, honey. Give it a few more weeks and you should be over the worst of it – if not before. But being anemic makes it that much worse,” she explained, flipping her readers over her eyes and looking through the papers on her fancy clipboard. “You’ve just gotta stay on top of those preexisting conditions.”

“And not taking the prenatals. . .,” she scolded, making you look up from scanning the sheet. She gave you a look. “Is what has you in this condition. You should also be taking an additional iron supplement. I’m. . . sure you didn’t tell your OB about your previous anemia?” She wondered aloud. 

“No,” you murmured. “I really haven’t seen it present itself since I was really young. And it wasn’t really severe. . . at least I don’t think,” you rubbed your forehead, suddenly experiencing several sad moments in time. From a long time ago. So, once again, you bared your heart and explained.  “There are things from my childhood that I’ve forgotten. And even though I do actually know I experienced bouts of it during that time, I haven’t ever really acknowledged it because I just kind of forced myself to forget about it.”

Really, for some godforsaken reason, thinking about your anemia only brought back very unwelcome flashes of your mother’s house. . . and other dirty places you didn’t want to think about. Hence why you’d blocked it out.

Josh squeezed your hand– tried to bring you back.

Thankfully, Dr. Stevens continued before the thoughts could take over. “I am sorry, honey,” she said, empathetic. But, she continued on professionally. “The hard truth is that some of the things that have always sort of laid dormant can come back with a raging force during pregnancy. . . simply considering that the pregnancy is essentially a revamp on your body,” she paused when you chuckled at the word ‘revamp’. Yeah, right. She smirked at it, too. “I know, funny word choice. Doesn’t always feel like you’re revamping,” she flipped to the next page in her chart. “What I mean is, things can come back up and be bigger–stronger–than before. One more thing that is changing and increasing in your body. Medical conditions from the past may come back and get more ‘intense’,” she winked at you, using your word from earlier. “But, it’s important: now that the anemia has shown itself again – so aggressively –  at a time that your body is already very vulnerable. . .” She sighed, flipping her readers back into her dark gray hair before unclipping a paper from the chart and handing it to you. “It’s time we get a handle on all of it before it possibly shows its ugly face again.”

The sheet she handed you included several foods that you could eat to remedy the morning sickness. Some of which had made you feel like puking – or actually puke. But, there were a few things you didn’t have at home. Boring, bland foods. Things you just never bought. A few fruits and vegetables. . .

And a shit ton of vitamins.

“A lot of plain Jane stuff on there, I know. And vitamins, vitamins, vitamins,” she acknowledged. “But those supplements and bland diet are what will see you through the dark ages of this morning sickness. We need to treat that first. And then, you should be able to ease yourself into other foods and get your iron levels healthy again for you and your baby. Please focus on following that guide of foods and vitamins and just call my extension – which I attached to the top of that sheet – if you have any issues.” 

She then passed one more sheet over to you and added one more piece of information. “This sheet will include the Hemoglobin Kit I’ve ordered for you and it will be sent to the address your friend provided for us within the next few days. Please be using it to check your hemoglobin levels. Hemoglobin is the main component of red blood cells–a protein– that we need to see at normal levels. I’ve included where your levels should be on that sheet. They should never be too low or too high. Please read the information on the sheet and in the kit to answer any additional questions you may have. This will help you to track of how your levels are doing and if your anemia is spiking again,” she said, her voice seeming to drone on and on in your ears. “And again, call if you have any questions or concerns.”

As you continued reading through the paper, she unclipped another and handed it over to you.

You really were thankful for the documents, really, but dear god there were a lot of them. Virtually and physically. From your OB visit and tonight. It was overwhelming . . . made your skin feel tight and overheated.

It was also a lot of information for you to over-fucking-think. 

I’ll have to take them to Gia. She’ll help me sort through them, you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath in and out to calm the nerves. 

“And the morning sickness should. . . pass sooner rather than later?” Josh’s question broke through your reverie. Your eyes shut to refocus on the present moment and not the papers.

“It should, yes. For most women, it does,” the graying doctor confirmed. “You’re. . .how far along? I’d estimate about eleven, maybe twelve weeks?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Twelve weeks according to my OB.”

“Yep. You should only have a few weeks – or less – left. Just try the foods on that sheet. The vitamins. Stay hydrated. There are several recommended supplements the sheet provides. You can find most all of them on Amazon.” 

You handed the sheets over to Josh, needing them away from you for the time being. You needed to be in the now. Needed to focus on anything else the aging, wise doctor may need to say. 

To put it plainly, tonight’s event landing you in the hospital had you scared shitless. And learning as much as possible from her would hopefully wind up putting your mind at ease. . . though, at this moment, it just had your heart rate increasing rather quickly.

She eyed the monitor next to your bed, moving closer to it as she observed something. “There goes that heart rate again,” she squinted at the vitals once more before pushing her glasses into her hair. She looked down at her chart, her lips pursing and readers going back on as she checked it over. “That’s another thing I want to address,” she hummed, sitting next to your legs, facing you and Josh from her seat. “Have you been under a lot of stress lately? A major change? Besides the baby? Mentally, perhaps? Emotionally?” She questioned. “Because while your iron levels were scarily low, your heart rate was also dramatically high. Which, yes, is related to the iron levels. . . but, I thought I’d go ahead and check as more often than not, it can pertain to an extreme amount of stress your heart is under from other sources.”

You stuttered out a response that involved you beginning therapy for the first time in years. You tried to touch on how you were experiencing a lot of emotions around what you would eventually be talking about in therapy. . . how you’d already bared your heart to Gia and opened up every single gate possible to effectively begin therapy. 

“I wanted to do it. Still do," you explained, needing Dr. Stevens to know that. “I would do it all over again right now if I needed to. She’s already helped me so much – after only one session, just with me basically projectile vomiting my past and emotions all over the room.” You took a breath, before finishing. “It doesn’t make it any less difficult though. It hurts. Physically, it hurts to talk about it all. I know it will all come together in the end. I trust the process–I trust my therapist. But it was extremely taxing – on top of everything else I’m feeling right now.” You glanced over at Josh before adding, “The baby’s father is. . . he’s just. . .”

“A lot,” Josh finished with a half-chuckle. “He’s a very good guy. He’s just a lot.”

“I have a lot of feelings about everything happening in my life right now, I’ll just say that,” you ventured to tell her. “And I had somewhat of a handle on my anxiety and depression before I got pregnant, but it’s also been something to resurface in a brand new way with the pregnancy hormones. Without me even knowing it sometimes. And before I know it, my heart is actually hurting my chest from the amount of pressure I’m putting myself under.”

Josh scooted his chair over closer to you and wrapped one of your hands in two of his, holding on tightly.

“It hasn’t all really clicked until now. . . that all of it might be related to my. . . issues,” you confirmed aloud, peeking over at Josh just briefly before looking back to Dr. Stevens. You’d just spilled your entire heart and it was making you feel extremely uneasy. God, she hadn’t asked to hear all of that. “I’m so sorry about spilling all of whatever that was,” you waved your hands around before combing them through your hair, trying to breathe deep breaths. You found her eyes, which you now realized were green. “I really–god, fuck. I’m– that was a lot for you to hear and you didn’t ask for the whole–.”

“I needed to hear it all,” she consoled you, tapping a comforting hand on the top bed sheet, rather than your leg. “It helps me assess the situation. . . and from what I’ve heard, it sounds like the most probable cause of you fainting tonight was due to the iron deficiency and your heart.” She assessed the numbers on the blinking monitor yet again. “It just hasn’t slowed much since you’ve been here, sweetie. Even with the medications we’ve given you to temporarily alleviate it, it’s still been sitting at around 120 beats per minute. And since you’ve been awake, it’s spiked enough to cause some concern to this doctor.”

As she expressed her concern again for your thrumming heart, (which you had noticed an increase in it’s pounding as of late) it began beating a little harder once again, causing an unpleasant tightness within your sternum. You winced. 

Josh noted the change almost as quickly as you did. His hands that held onto yours began squeezing even tighter, the skin of his palms now wet and clammy. He brought your hand, wrapped in his, up to his chin. The hair on his chin was unfamiliar to the last time you’d touched his face (who even knew when you last did that), but it still felt familiar enough against your knuckles to calm some of your nerves.

You couldn’t help but look at him with wide, fearful eyes. His eyes were steady on you, his attention only breaking from you to look at Dr. Stevens with a nonverbal note of worry for you. 

She stood from the bed and came to stand beside you, inserting the buds to the stethoscope around her neck, and held the circular part to your back. “Cough for me, sweetie,” she told you, her calm demeanor forcing you to come back from your momentary freak out. “Make it a big one.”

You found it to be an odd request, but you weren’t in any place to question this doctor who had shown you nothing but kindness. And offered help when you, apparently, so desperately needed it.

You did as she said, and forced the best cough you could muster. It instantly relieved the tension in your chest, even lowered your heart rate a bit as you watched the blinking numbers begin to drop on the screen. 

“Wh-what was that? Am I having a heart attack?” You felt silly asking her that. . .but you didn’t know any better, it may as well have been your body plummeting straight into a cardiac arrest. 

This was all a lot, and now you were very hyper aware of every little change in your heart that you felt, saw, or heard from the screen.

She chuckled softly, taking the stethoscope away from her ears, hanging once again around her neck. She watched your vitals intently as the blood pressure cuff attached to your left arm (that you hadn’t noticed yet) began squeezing you rather uncomfortably. 

“You’re not having a heart attack, my dear. Not even close,” she reassured. Although, you still felt the worry present in the pit of your tummy that you were unknowingly clutching again. “I am no stranger to the intense effects of anxiety. I’ve seen it time and time again. I think that was a big part of the palpitation episode you experienced a few minutes ago and the persistent increase in your heart rate I've seen so far tonight. However, I would like to conduct a little further testing. Just want to be sure your heart is nice and strong – for you and for the baby.”

You felt the air from Josh’s lungs release against your knuckles as he let out the breath he must’ve been holding, squeezing your hand just as tight as before. As terrified as you were, his presence provided the safety net your spirit needed to not be thrown back in a massive panic attack. 

She sat down on the bed next to you once again, her kind eyes offering little comfort right now as you start to feel overwhelmed with the sudden discovery of so many things that were apparently wrong with your body.

“If you can remember, have you ever been rather sensitive to the heat? Maybe suffered from heat strokes during your youth?” 

Her question had your mind yet again returning to your past that had been kept securely behind a locked door with no key. A place you didn’t venture often. 

But it did bring forth some hazy recollections of your days as a child, playing outside in the thick,  dry summer heat. How you couldn’t stand to be out in it for very long without feeling. . . faint. And dizzy. So fucking dizzy. 

A long since forgotten trait of yours that you never thought to pay any mind to. 

“Um– yeah, actually. Now that I think about it, Summers were always a challenge. I couldn’t stand being outside for much longer than a few minutes some days without feeling like I could pass out or throw up,” you huffed a humorless laugh at the memories playing back in your head. Miserable times. “It was. . .fucking awful.” 

You’d suddenly started to remember all the times you felt faint as a child. But it wasn’t always from the rise in temperature. Sometimes, it was from the stresses your mom tossed your way, the fights, the troubles that brewed in your home. It became more and more clear that fainting was most definitely not new to you. You just couldn’t remember. 

“Okay,” Dr. Stevens continued, her hand now patting your shin as she seemed to pick up on the unease of remembering your past. “What about when you go to stand up after a period of being seated or lying down, does your vision become a bit obscured at times? Like you’re seeing stars? Tunneled vision, maybe?”

“I mean, y-yeah,” you stuttered. “Sometimes. But it doesn't last for very long. Doesn’t everybody experience that, though?”

You had no clue where she was going with all of these questions— questions that she seemingly already knew the answers to. Of what it all meant, you weren’t sure. But you knew you needed her to cut to the chase soon before you began plummeting even further down the anxious path you’d started paving. 

“What does it mean? Is this something I should be worried about?” You asked through newly developed tears you had no control over. 

Your mind was running rampant with only one singular thought: the baby. What does this mean for the baby? 

“You don’t need to worry, sweetie. This is actually a lot more common than you think.”

She stood up from the bed, unclipping one more piece of paper from the board she’d been holding prior to sitting down. She handed it over to you, the paper weighing your hand down with what you were to find on it. 

But before you could begin to worry about what was on it, she was explaining it to you.

“That sheet is going to inform you on the ins and outs of Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, most commonly referred to as POTs,” she seriously informed, her eyebrows dipping to show concern for your worries that you knew were painted all over your face. 

“That’s a funny name,” Josh giggled, the breath from the laugh he’d let out fanned against your knuckles. “Like pots and pans. . . you know?”

You wanted to slap him because, shut the fuck up, Josh, now is not the time, but. . . try as you might, it actually calmed you down a bit. You couldn’t help the tiny ghost of a grin that floated over your lips.

Dr. Stevens glared at him, causing him to stop his little joke, before she continued on. “POTs,” she enunciated the name while flashing her eyes to Josh, “is nothing to be concerned with, but it is a valid heart condition that does require a bit more testing to confirm if it’s present or not. Just to be safe.” 

You peered down at the sheet in front of you and the bolded print that you tried so fucking hard to not be too overwhelmed by. It wasn’t the worst possible condition, but it was still a fucking heart condition that you could possibly have. And with everything else that’d happened tonight and your current life predicament. . . it was causing your head to spin.

Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that causes a number of symptoms when you transition from lying down to standing up, such as a fast heart rate, dizziness and fatigue. While there’s no cure, several treatments and lifestyle changes can help manage the symptoms of POTS.

As you read the small print across the page, she told you exactly what it was she suspected you had. “To put it plainly, your heart can’t pump blood quickly enough to your body, resulting in a higher heart rate and a lower blood pressure that can sometimes cause you to faint.” She came close to your bedside again, “If you don’t mind, I am going to need to listen to your heart again.” 

It took you a bit to come to, but when you did, you finally nodded in response. She placed the cold end of the stethoscope against your chest while securing the buds in her ears to listen to you.

“This, combined with your lack of eating that caused the extremely low iron levels could have developed from your pregnancy. Although, I’m willing to bet they’ve been present your entire life. Certain instances can trigger them. Stress, severe anxiety, or pregnancy. In your case, dear, I’d say it’s all of the above. A bit of a trifecta, you could say. The ingredients for the perfect, terrifying storm.” 

“Jesus, mama," Josh breathed, his lips faintly brushed over your knuckles as he continued to hold your hand close to his face. “You have got to start taking care of yourself. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

You knew that. God, you knew that. It had always been easier said than done. But it was no longer all about you anymore; the moment the life began growing within you, it gave you a newfound motivation to take care of yourself for the little life you were now responsible for.

“What other testing needs to be done?” You asked. You were hesitant of what her answer would be, but if it provided a step in the right direction towards becoming the healthiest version of yourself that you could possibly be, you were all ears.

“There’s a specific test, a tilt table test, that must be done to provide us with a little more insight to the specifics of your case. However, it’s not safe to perform it while you're pregnant,” she explained. “So for now, I’m just going to send in for a heart monitor that will be delivered to your house in the next week or so. You’ll wear it for four weeks and that'll give us plenty of information in the meantime. I’m also going to refer you to one of the best cardiologists we have on staff here.”

A heart monitor? That sounded utterly terrifying to you. 

“I am also going to insist that you keep track of your hemoglobin levels daily,” she continued. “You can also buy your own blood pressure cuff to partner with the hemoglobin kit we have set to deliver at your doorstep. You should be able to apply your insurance to the purchase of the blood pressure cuff, if you decide to include that step as well,” Stevens took a deep breath before going on. “Keep a daily journal to log your numbers. Just a notebook to track your blood pressure and hemoglobin levels. It’s vital that you do these things, y/n. Fainting like this can not be a normal occurrence. It’s not good for you or the baby.” When she spoke next, you felt your heart leap into your throat. “The lasting effects on you or the fetus could be life threatening if you’re not careful. . . could be terribly detrimental to the baby’s development—specifically his or her little body or brain development.”

Life threatening. Detrimental. Baby’s development. Little body or brain development.

You heard your heart rate go up on the monitor, but you weren’t about to freak yourself out any further by looking at the changing numbers. You literally felt your pulse quicken and your breath become shallow in your throat as you struggled to take full breaths.

Focus on the now. Focus on what is real. What is right now. Baby is not in trouble yet. 

You have time.

You brought a thumb and middle finger up to your temple, rubbing away furiously to relieve the oncoming headache that had been simmering at the surface for the past several minutes. Your other hand found its home on your swollen belly.

It was all so overwhelming–staggering, really, and you weren’t prepared for any of it in the slightest. 

But, then again, how would someone prepare? You felt as if you were living in a brand new body, much different from the one you’d lived your whole life in up to this point. There was so fucking much out of your control and unknown. It was all pushing down, heavily, on your already-tense shoulders.

“Relax, mama,” Josh sensed your tension, and knowing you as well as he did, he knew it was time to start helping you articulate the right questions. He brushed his thumb across the back of your hand as he calmly asked, “What do we need to do if her numbers aren’t. . . normal? What are some measures we can take to get them to where they need to be?” 

The fact that he was willing to stand alongside you during this whole thing, that he wanted to, it was such a comforting thing to know at this moment. Not that you had any doubt in your mind, but hearing him say something as simple as ‘we’. . . it just warmed your heart completely. 

“Lots of fluids,” she answered through a sincere smile. “And an increase in your salt intake to help your body maintain those fluids.” She handed you yet another sheet and sat back down next to you, looking you in the eye with a stern, motherly expression. “That should help you out with foods to eat and fluids to drink, in addition to the sheet from earlier. But, honey, you need to change your diet. It’s essential that you incorporate healthy eating habits at this point in your pregnancy. After you’ve gotten your body accustomed to the bland foods on the other list I’ve supplied you, you need to start adding lots of iron heavy foods to your meals. Meats, leafy greens, rice. . . things of that nature.” She searched your eyes, hers kind and knowledgeable from years in the field. “Alright?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, wondering how the hell you were going to make that happen with the way normal food left you utterly disgusted at the present time. 

“We’ll make sure of that, doc,” Josh responded in your place, throwing a wink at you as he knew damn well how horrible your food aversions had been. 

“M-my therapy,” you found your voice. “It’s going to be intense. It will cause my body stress.” Dr. Stevens looked at you quizzically before you went on, “It’s called EMDR therapy. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing; although, I’m sure you’ve heard of it in your profession. I don’t know all of the logistics yet, but I know it’s not a conventional form of therapy. What do I do if I wish to continue that? Should I continue it?”

“It should be safe, as long as you make sure to have a thorough discussion with your therapist after each session. That is dire in helping your body and your mind process it all in a healthy manner. In order to have a healthy body, you must also take care of your mind, especially in those circumstances. I do want you to consult with your therapist over how much stress you’ll be able to handle at any given time. Don’t let your mind go too far. If you have a good therapist, they’ll know the signs if you’ve had enough, though, don’t be afraid to tell them.” 

If there was one thing you did know about all this uncertainty, it was that you could trust Gia to not lead you astray, or towards anything that would be detrimental to your mental health. 

Dr. Stevens smiled, her clipboard once again tight in her grip before she stepped further to the curtained room you were shielded by. “Do you have any more questions?” 

Josh glanced at you, waiting for you to say anything or waiting for you to communicate something for him to say on your behalf. You were sure you had questions, but you were just fucking flooded with stress to the point that all you wanted to do was sleep. . . just ready to get home.

Also, seeing as it was an emergency room, the idea was to get patients in and out. Wasn’t supposed to be the length of a standard visit. 

You’d taken up too much of her time.

So, you shook your head at Josh and then looked to Dr. Stevens to tell her no thank you.

And when you did, you glanced down at the name on her coat and the name of the hospital stitched into the white fabric. You hadn’t even noticed. . . .  Cedars-Sinai.

Same hospital I’ll have the baby at, if all goes according to plan, you suddenly realized, the thought bringing you a weird sense of peace. And it will go according to plan.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Josh went about gathering up all of the documents that had been handed to you and the prenatal pills provided as a nurse came in to disconnect all of your tubes and shit. He'd waited outside the curtain. and asked the nurse a few more questions as you'd changed back into your clothes.

And on the ride home, he’d put on peaceful music over the speaker of the car. He was used to doing it when you rode in his car as you hated riding in it. But tonight? Tonight you found comfort in the hunk of creaking metal. 

Because it meant you were going home. 

When you got home, Josh helped you up to the apartment and went about opening the front door and setting up your bed for you. All while you brushed your teeth, pulled up your hair that smelled like hospital, and changed into your comfiest PJs. 

Just as he’d tucked you in and was about to leave, you pulled on his hand and begged for him to stay. You really didn’t want to be alone for the night, mumbling as much to him. 

So, like the perfect friend he was, he set up a pallet on the floor as you tossed him a pillow from your bed. 

And to your solace, sleep found you as soon as your head hit the satin of your pillowcase. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 14, 2022

Every Monday being your therapy day was honestly the perfect way to start your week. You’d decided that on the way to the counseling practice on the chilly November afternoon of your second appointment.

You already knew it would be like it had been before. Before, (on your first and only other visit before today’s) it had just felt like a breath of fresh air to talk to a licensed professional like Gia. She was just fucking amazing. And you knew every week would be like before: a fresh start with a confidant who could give you killer fucking advice. A little date of sorts with a licensed professional who was positively eager to help you get through your week (life, generally) the best you possibly could.

Well, at least your therapist was eager to do that. 

Even as you sat on her trendy, camel-colored leather couch for your second appointment, you felt completely comfortable and at ease with Gia. She had already become one of your favorite people. 

You’d spent the first thirty minutes or so filling her in on telling Josh, your first prenatal exam (also showed her the sonogram pictures, which she’d loved), and the emergency visit. No details had been spared and you made sure she had time to give you any advice or words of wisdom she deemed necessary. But she’d really just let you have the floor and talk. 

Once you wrapped up your scary details from the night of the E.R., handed over all of the documents you wanted to sort through with her, and talked through them until you felt more ease about all of the anemia and heart shit, she’d looked at you seriously. 

Pinned you with a stare, her eyes sparkling like emeralds as she thoughtfully assessed you. 

She sat down her tea, and then wheeled herself over to you. Her oversized sweater was a turtle neck that matched the color of her couch, and the too-long sleeves of it touched your hands as she grasped them loosely in her hands. “Y/n,” she began, peering at you openly through her circular, wire framed-lenses, “We do not have to do EMDR. I want to remind you, it is entirely up to you if you choose to go that route. If you are fearful of it causing too much stress, I understand wanting to venture down another therapeutic route.”

“No,” you shook your head, a small smile curled the corner of your lips to reassure her. “I want to do it. I believe it’s what will work best to get to the heart of things. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she agreed, brow knitted. “I just don’t want you to feel any unnecessary stress during this vulnerable time in your life.”

“As long as you promise to help me wrap it all up with a good talk at the end of each appointment,” you suggested with hope evident in your tone. “To wrap it up as much as we can for me to make it through the week.”

She grinned. “I can do that,” she affirmed with one certain nod, her loose bun, full of her soft blonde hair bounced with the action. “Did the doctor recommend continuing it?”

“Yep. Said it shouldn’t be an issue if we manage to discuss it all at the end of each session,” you offered. “Doesn’t want me carrying around anything unresolved that could make my stress levels increase.”

“Well, that’s definitely doable,” she confirmed with a wide grin. Scooting back, she grabbed her tea from the repurposed desk in the corner of her office before propping her ankle on top of her bent knee. “So, if you do wish to continue with EMDR, I’ll go ahead and explain it a little better than I have yet.”

“I do,” you said as a final agreement. “What should I know before we start?”

So, Gia proposed EMDR and all of the benefits that could come from the specific form of therapy. You listened to every detail readily. Were you scared? Yes. Were you anxious to begin? Also yes. It was intriguing and a little exciting to be so close to finally diving deep into the curves and corners of your mind and memories. 

Once she’d finished with that, she was rolling her chair back over to you and placing her elbows on the ends of her thighs as she bent to talk intimately with you. When she spoke, the smell of spearmint on her breath was oddly calming. “There’s something I feel I should mention before we begin. A bit of a warning that you should heed. Some clients experience this, some don’t. But something to be aware of, nonetheless.” 

Your eyes widened at her use of the word ‘warning,’ and her sudden change in tone made you believe this was something a little more serious. You knew there were risks involved with this somewhat unconventional form of therapy, but you hadn’t let yourself delve into all of them just yet. You had tried your best to leave the ball in Gia’s court to explain it all to you. 

And you knew that anything deemed risky, Gia would let you know of them before you agreed. Any online research wouldn't be nearly as viable as it would be coming straight from Gia’s mouth. 

Still yet, your heart beat just a little faster in preparation for whatever she had to tell you.

Deep breaths, y/n.

“Tell me,” you asserted. In search of some extra comfort, you placed a hand on your belly, the pulse vibrating in your palm also immediately triggered the fear in you that your heart was possibly over exerting itself.

Deep. Breaths. Gia’s got this. She won’t let you do anything too risky to your health. She wouldn’t let you.

“Some people report experiencing rather intense flashbacks that can come unannounced. And when I say intense, I truly mean just that, y/n. If they come, they can be debilitating.” 

This was the first you had seen her eyes downturned, a picture of worry painted within her emerald green irises. “There have also been accounts of severe nightmares—well, more along the lines of night terrors. The kind that can wake you up in a panic. I just want you to be aware of these possibilities before we begin. I need you to promise me right now, that if these things do happen, you’ll call me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, you have to call me, and I will answer.” 

Middle of the day? They could come then, too? Shit.

“Is it. . .  really that serious?” You took a moment to ponder your question, not entirely sure what to make of it all just yet. (And you couldn’t help but wonder if Jake found out about these little occurrences during his research before bringing the idea up to you.)

“It can be,” she noted with a stern tone that sent yet another wave of anxiety through your tense muscles. “That’s why I need you to make me that promise. That isn’t something you should ever experience alone. As I said, it can be debilitating.”

Your mind began turning furiously with the thought of having to experience flashbacks. Would they be flashbacks to things you already remembered? Or worse. . . things you didn’t? Both?

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew the answer and it was honestly terrifying to you.

For a split second, you started to doubt whether or not this was the right solution for you. But, you couldn’t deny any longer that you did need the help. You had to be better. For you and for the life that was growing inside of you. The baby needed a healed mother. 

And you knew Gia was the perfect person to guide you through it. You trusted her, and that was something that has never come easily for you. 

“I’ll admit,” you began, still holding tight to your belly, reminding yourself of the growing reason why you needed to do this. “I’m nervous. But I still want to do it. I promise I’ll call you when— if— that happens. . . but, what if you’re not available?”

“Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this.” She flashed you her sparkling white teeth in a smile that put your spirit right back at ease. “And I do my best to answer. It’s my job as your therapist to see you through this. Some don’t take it as seriously as I do, but I know that you’ll need me in your corner and I’m happy to be there. I signed up for this, just like you did,” she grinned, once again using her feet to scoot her back to her desk, in her plush, light pink chair. “But, on the off chance I’m not able to answer, I would immediately contact someone you trust to see you through it. Hold you. Talk to you. Just be there with you. Whatever you need. Someone who would be willing to do that.” She opened her laptop before turning to you, an idea seeming to spark in her mind. “As a matter of fact, before our next session, why don’t you make it your assignment to think of the person you’ll go to in situations like that? Just one person for now and if you think of more, then double whammy.”

She winked, and you just sent a barely-there grin back to her in response. As she went about clicking open tabs on her computer, you knew you didn’t need until next session to think of your person. 

Because as soon as she started talking about that person, you were back in the hallway of your grandparents’ home – right outside your bedroom. And the person next to you right then and there. . . he was the one you wanted with you if the terrors hit. 

Not Josh. Not even Elsie. 

But Jake. 

Would he be okay with that though? Would it be worth asking him?

Gia was once again speaking as she clicked through a few buttons on her laptop. “Y/n? You okay, love?” 

You looked up, finding her eyes waiting for yours. “Oh–oh, yeah,” you stretched your lips to make the best smile you could. “Just being an overachiever and already brainstorming my person to contact.”

She hummed, giving you a sneaky smirk. “Does it happen to be a certain roommate of yours?”

Eyes bugging, you were shocked that she’d guessed. But were you really? She sorta kinda (definitely) knew the depths of your heart. She'd probably known who you’d want to pick as soon as you'd known it. 

Nodding sheepishly, you decided to ask, “Is that a bad idea?”

“I don’t believe so,” she assured. “From what you’ve told me about him, he seems like a pretty good guy and I think he’d be more than willing to help you if you needed him.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s also super convenient because he lives with you,” she insisted with a final wink before she said, “Anything I might’ve forgotten will be in the PowerPoint I’m about to send to your email. But, I’ve gotta say, I’ve done it enough times with enough clients, I think I’ve covered every base for today.” A few beats of silence passed before she triumphantly pressed a button. “Aaand, sent!” 

Then, wheeling back over to you, her pristinely white Nikes made the smallest squeak on the stained concrete floor of her office. “Okay, so today,” she began. “How are we feeling?”

“Really good,” you confidently responded, wiping your palms against your leggings before a true smile fit to your features. “When will we start?”

“I think next session we will find your safe place,” she said with a raise of her brow. “I will explain what I mean by ‘safe place’ next time, and directly after, we will send you there. Try not to worry about it until then, okay?” She requested, eyes searching yours for an answer. To which, you nodded. She continued with a grin. “For today, I want to call it quits with the EMDR talk. . . Let you rest. Unless. . . you have any questions, of course. . . .”

You wracked your brain, and when you couldn’t think of anything immediately, you told her you didn’t have any questions. 

“Come with some next time if you think of any. And, my email is always open in between visits if needed–even if it’s just a minor inquiry you have,” she reminded. “Oh! And I’m not sure if I mentioned this yet. . . but, if we need to ever schedule an emergency visit over Zoom or in the office. . . that is also always, always on the table. I know that these things get heavy, and I want to be here for you through all of it, y/n.”

“Got it.”

Although, something did come to your mind as you were both standing to leave the session. You hadn’t given the question much thought in your own mind (shockingly). It had entered your wave of thought the day of your first prenatal appointment. When you’d asked Josh. 

But since then, your mind had been too preoccupied with everything else that had recently happened that this thought had been put on the backburner. 

But, you were curious what her opinion was on the matter, now that it had resurfaced. 

Right before she opened the door, delicate hand on the handle, you grew sweaty. But you needed to ask the question, because if you didn’t do it now, it would be tormenting you until next Monday. 

So, you asked her the same question you’d asked Josh.

“When should I tell Jake about the baby?”

She turned her shoulder, her eyes stern when she responded. “Soon. . . sooner rather than later. Just focus on what is real.”

Sooner rather than later. . . same exact words Josh had said.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been a long day of classes and the short shift at the Black and Gold after your classes had completely wiped you out. 

When you got home, all you’d wanted to do was take a nap to sleep off the exhaustion from the short day. Before pregnancy, you wouldn’t be hitting a wall so early in the day, but now that you were, you could hardly function after going nonstop for more than a few hours. 

Your body was functioning in overdrive, trying to produce enough energy to sustain two lives. . . and you were still getting used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you would ever get used to it.

But before your nap. . . you wanted to take some time to release some of the soreness in your changing body with a warm shower. You were sure to grab a towel from the dryer because, even though you knew Jake wasn’t supposed to be home for a few hours, you still didn’t want to risk him seeing you. The idea of him seeing any slight changes on your body made you cringe. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable in your body yet, so you definitely didn’t want him seeing it. 

There was also the enormous, glaring factor of him seeing the changes and realizing what was going on. You really still just looked bloated (albeit very, very bloated). . . but you had a feeling that he would catch on. He’d gotten very used to what your body looked like for the better part of the summer, so you could see him noticing your stomach protruding more than it ever did before. 

He’d know. . . you just had a feeling.

After a day of trying to wear regular jeans, you’d decided it was a bad idea to wear your normal sized jeans anymore. The tight waistband had cut into your abdomen all day and squeezed you like a motherfucker. Thankfully, there’d been a lull in customers before the end of your shift, and the oversized sweater you’d worn had provided enough coverage for you to unbutton the jeans when you were alone in the store. 

But when you finally got to take them off, you breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the confines of the stiff clothing. And the big, fluffy sweater had gotten to be too warm by the end of your shift, so taking that off had also been extremely relieving as well. 

After you’d tied your hair back and heated the shower a little cooler than your usually steaming hot showers, you had to get used to the temperature as you stood and lathered up your belly, giving yourself your daily time to just observe how it was growing. Ever since your visit to the E.R., you’d become more conscientious of how it was growing.

You were new to this pregnancy thing. You didn’t know if it meant your baby was okay or not if your belly wasn’t growing at a certain rate.

To your utter relief, over the past few days, you had finally been able to eat more–following the lists of food Dr. Stevens had given you. You occasionally got nauseous, but the puking had limited significantly with the suggested bland, healthier foods and constant Ginger Ale (which you’d actually found much more delicious and helpful to your twisty stomach than Sprite). 

Then there were the Preggie Pops and the heaven-sent PregEase: both of which had been fucking life savers. (Both stayed safely locked away in your room, on a shelf in your closet, right next to where you’d pinned the sonogram pictures.)

Once you’d let the quick shower relax your muscles exactly like you’d needed, you took your time drying off. And once you’d washed your face and changed into bike shorts and a giant t-shirt, you weren’t so tired as before. So, you’d settled into the couch with your phone, a book, a fluffy blanket, and a delicious bowl of sweet red peppers and pretzels.

It had become a go-to snack as of late. 

You were looking forward to finishing the steamy romance that had popped up on your BookTok a few weeks back, but you wanted to look into BookTok reviews for the second book in the series before you finished the first. Just to prepare yourself. 

Though, when you opened your TikTok app, you didn’t look into the book. No, instead, you found your fingers searching ‘13 weeks pregnant’. You wanted to see how other women looked at this point in the game. You couldn’t help wanting to compare your progression to other women. It wasn’t a healthy course of action – you knew that. You just had to see. . . get an idea.

You saw a lot of videos of them talking about entering their second trimester. Which, like your Ovia app had already informed you today, you knew you had officially passed the first trimester. . . which was a massive thing to you. Passing the first trimester meant several exciting things. A few being: the chances of your baby surviving the pregnancy increased tenfold; the morning sickness started screeching to a halt (thank god); and you’d be able to find out the gender of your baby in a few short weeks.

Though, the other glaring thing at the front of your brain was how you needed to tell Jake. Because of the fact that you were already in your second trimester.

The main thing you were concerned about was staying healthy, though. . . you were really hoping you were doing okay at keeping yourself healthy; you needed your baby to be healthy. All of your numbers seemed to be getting back on the right track as you’d been tracking your hemoglobin for the past few days. It was all very comforting–-you felt better.

Just as you clicked on a video about symptoms at week 13, the front door opened to show Jake coming through. You quickly shut the app off and locked your phone, pretended to be reading as sweat accumulated in your arm and knee pits. (Lovely.) 

Though, you couldn’t help but turn your body to peek at him in his peacoat, with a scarf wrapped around his neck, and a beanie covering his ears. Much like he’d looked on the night of the macaroni and cheese and therapy talk. 

He had a little chill in his bones, it seemed, as he shook them out when taking off his coat and scarf. His hat was next, leaving his long hair staticky in its wake. He smoothed it back with one more chill before he was off to the counter, dropping off the mail and his keys. But he didn’t immediately go to his room. He went about opening a drawer, finding a pair of scissors and heading to the mail on the counter. 

You did notice a package now that you looked closer. And he was hurriedly going about cutting through the yellow protective packaging.

Out of nowhere, you decided to speak. No idea where it came from. Curiosity killed the cat was all you could come up with.

“Whatcha got there?” Whatcha got there? Okay, first of all, what the fuck?

He peered over at you, raising a brow before lifting the now-open package to display it to you. “New guitar part I ordered.”

“Oh,” you blinked, not sure what else you’d been expecting from him. Of course he wasn’t about to make pleasant conversation. Not when something had apparently climbed up his ass where you were concerned for the past several days. 

Once again, you were right back at square one at the most inopportune time. It made you question your idea to make him your go-to person for your expected night terrors. . . but you didn’t want to let go of the possibility yet. Not yet. 

“Have fun with that,” you offered, turning back around to the book you most definitely didn’t want to read at the present time. Instead, you took a nervous bite of a pepper. 

“Um, y/n,” he said your name with a question in his tone. “What the fuck is this?”

Your heart tripped over itself in your chest. What had he found? Without looking at him, you decided to just go ahead and get your ass off the couch to survey the situation. 

He was holding the box containing your heart monitor in his hands.

Fuck. You really didn’t want him to be privy to that part of your life. For whatever ridiculous reason, you were embarrassed by it. 

Deciding honesty was the best policy, you decided to just flat out tell him. “I went to the Emergency Room the other night,” you started. “And the doctor just wanted –.”

“The Emergency Room?!” His voice raised a decibel, obviously alarmed at the new information. “Wait . . . is that why Josh had to leave the bar–? The same night you were gone all night.”

“Wait. . .how do you know I was gone all night?”

“I live with you, y/n,” he scoffed, talking to you like you were an idiot. 

You felt your blood pressure rise, your heart beating in your ears. “Yes, Jake, I know this,” you matched his tone, the hormones working in your favor this time–making you angry rather than sad. “But why the fuck were you awake?”

“I was waiting for–,” he stopped, clearing his throat before starting over. He looked down, a crinkle in his brow. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He was waiting for. . . who? Waiting for. . . what? Your curiosity peaked, but you ignored it for the time being. 

“Well, not that you need to know, but yes. I was at the E.R. that night,” you explained. “Something happened that landed me there and it resulted in them wanting to track my heart activity. Nothing huge.”

And for once, you didn’t feel bad for lying to him. Your nerves were lit on fire with irritation towards him. 

He doesn’t need to know.

“You got a heart monitor in the mail,” he stated, not dropping the possible severity of the situation. "And you're saying it's nothing huge?"

Without a second thought, you were yanking the package from his hands. 

“It’s. not. your. business, Jacob,” you squeezed the package until the plastic wrap squeaked from the tight grip of your fingertips. Then, something else clicked. “Why the fuck were you not looking at the name on the package? Remember, like you said, you live with me. You know that not all of the shit that comes in the mail is yours.”

“I just wasn’t thinking–.”

“Kind of fucking invasive, Jake,” you interrupted hotly. “Don’t you think?”

“Well, it helped me to know something was wrong with your heart. You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t opened the package,” he argued back. 

“You didn’t need to know!” You said, your voice raising at the same speed as your blood pressure. “Still don’t!”

“But Josh sure as hell does, right?” He demanded, swinging his finger towards the door, his jaw clenching. “He needed to be your knight in shining fucking armor, huh?”

“Why the hell do you care?!” You fumed, the question exploding from your chest with the same emotion that had tears gathering in your eyes at the question. Angry tears. Confused tears. 

“I don’t!” He snapped, his beautiful, brown eyes, hard. His jaw, set and tight. 

His words sat in the air for a few minutes. Your stares were intertwined; swimming with tangled emotions. The air felt hot and heavy as it surrounded you. It was taut with newly spoken (and still unspoken) surmounting feelings and disequilibrium. Nostrils were flaring. Both of your chests heaved, the sound of his breathing mixed with yours in a way that made you want to slap and kiss his pursed lips.

You didn’t let yourself stand there much longer – needed to get away from him. Without speaking to him, you tore your eyes from his, gathered up your stuff from the couch, and tried to walk with as much dignity as you could to your room. 

Somehow, you were able to get the door open with your hands inexplicably full, and after you’d entered and before you could shut it behind you, you shot a glare his way. He was still watching you.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 17, 2022

The next night saw your ass in the shower again. 

Except this time, you were sitting in the tub, legs drawn to your chest as close as possible with your rounder tummy, and chin on your knees as you let the warm water soak you through. 

You’d already shaved and washed everything. So, now, you were just letting yourself be.

Your thoughts had been spinning since last night. So, in an effort to help your heart, you’d invited Josh over for a movie when Jake left to give lessons for the day. And, of course, he’d said yes without question. 

You’d spent the day drowning yourself in popcorn and Canada Dry (Josh surprised you with a new 12-pack when he’d arrived) as you’d watched all three Bridget Jones movies. Back to back to back. They weren’t Josh’s favorites, but he humored you by trying to indulge in the trilogy – even managing to laugh at the funny parts. 

Between movies, he’d let you cry on his shoulder. Or, intermittently, during the movies. . . By the time he’d left, your tears had positively stained the white long sleeve tee he was wearing. 

He didn’t ever ask what it was about – who it was about. And you never told him. But you knew he wasn’t oblivious to who caused your emotional episode.

Now he was gone. Had been for about an hour. And Jake wasn’t home yet. Not that you fucking cared. 

You’d meant it when you told him what you did. Fuck him.

Though, the devastating matter was that you couldn’t decide if you were more mad at yourself or him. Everyday was a replay of the day in the kitchen. And you were sure he replayed it everyday, too. . . and he was definitely allowed to feel hurt after the horrendous shit you’d thrown at him.

But what was with the back and forth? Hot and cold? How he’d been okay the night with the mac and cheese? How he’d spent his time researching therapy for you to try? How he’d been quick to defend your song to his girlfriend? 

And, just as quickly, he was snapping at you. Getting upset out of nowhere. Instantly angry with you when you’d come out of the bathroom at the bar. Getting pissed for no reason at you and Josh for sitting in the car. Telling you last night that he didn’t care about you. 

Was that true? Did he not? It fucking killed you if it was true. But you couldn’t blame him if he didn’t care. Why would he?

You took the moment to stretch your legs out in the shower, watching as the water painted your skin with droplet after droplet. Then, you looked down at your tummy, extra round after a day of pigging out. 

Placing a pruned hand on it, you looked down at the part of your body that housed your human. Surprisingly (not), tears clouded your voice as you spoke to it, rubbing the skin reassuringly. “I’m so sorry that your mommy and daddy are so fucked up.”

After letting a few tears fall to meet the tight, rounded skin of your tummy, you forced your legs to stand up. The feat was proven a little difficult as they’d fallen asleep, but you still managed. Regretfully, you’d turned the water off. You didn’t want to leave the shower but you were officially prune-y as hell.

And, as you gathered a towel to wrap up in, you realized you were also very fucking tired.

You carefully attached the heart monitor’s adhesive to your chest like the instruction manual (and multiple videos you’d watched) told you to, and followed it with the monitor itself. You then checked to make sure the phone you’d been given with the kit was ready to track what it needed.

Finding your phone on the counter after you’d washed your face and brushed your teeth, you decided Josh deserved a thank you after putting up with you the last several days.

Especially after you’d just rocked his motherfucking world . . . and he’d been so cool about it.

God, you just loved him.

You, 10:17 p.m.: I’m so glad I have you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart that I wouldn’t make it through this pregnancy without you. And your love and amazing fucking support. I’d be lost without you.

And after you sent it, you began towel drying your hair, then brushed through any tangles the best you could. 

When you heard a ding! sound from the living room, you spent a few minutes thinking it was your imagination. But when you heard it a second time, you realized it was most likely not in your head, and that Jake was home. 

So, checking your appearance once more, you wrapped the towel as tight as you could around your body before shutting the light off and opening the door. 

You glanced up to see if he was in fact home, and the sight that met you had you stop in your tracks. 

Josh’s white phone case with the little triangle symbol he’d drawn on it one day at the B&G. 

In Jake’s hands. 

Jake’s face, looking at the screen of said phone, mouth open in shock.

And as soon as you closed the door to the bathroom, the smallest sound of it shutting, made his eyes slowly slide up from the phone to your face.

He held the phone up, showing you just what he’d seen. Fuck. 

“You’re pregnant?”

You took a careful step forward, the blood in your veins frazzled and vibrating. Deny deny deny. As long as you can, y/n. “What gives you the right to be in Josh’s phone? Your invasiveness really knows no fucking bounds these days,” you clipped, voice shaking in spite of yourself.

He blinked a couple of times, a smile forming on his mouth. A wide, sarcastic one, which turned into an astounded scoff. “Really? That’s what we’re going to focus on right no–?” He shook his head, clicking the phone shut before taking a few cautious steps towards you. “His face I.D.; it opens to me. I’m his fucking identical twin.”

“Prove it,” you challenged. 

“Was already planning on it,” he snipped. And right in your line of sight, he opened the phone, putting his face in front of it. Then, it was turned to show you. The same tantalizing screen as before. “Proven.”

“Well. . .,” you faltered, scrambling. “Why did you have it?”

“It was laying on the counter. I went to grab it and my keys,” he jingled the keys in his other hand. “I was going to take it to him,” he explained, sounding exasperated and patient all at once. An anomaly. “But when I picked it up, I looked down, and it opened.”

He took two steps back, once again, holding the phone up to show you the text screen. The gray bubble had never looked so horrifying as it did in that moment. The sweat accumulating on your forehead proved your entire skin care routine pointless. You were shaking. Your skin felt like it was going to fall off from the vibrations taking over underneath it.

“Now,” he started slowly. “Will you answer my question, please?” 

His voice broke on the last word and it triggered a single tear to trickle down your cheek. 

“Yes, I am.”

“Whose?”

“Really, Jake?” You questioned, the question making your heart break. How could he–? 

His eyes went soft momentarily, pleading with you. “I just need to hear you say it, y/n.”

“It’s yours, Jake. The baby is yours. Who the fuck else?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: this monstrous chapter was a fucking doozy and you already know i wanna talk about it!! come to my asks and we shall chat <333

oh, but i'm just wondering........ what do you think reader's safe place will be? ;) a place? a person? both? hmmm....

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!)

[softlysuga]

satan's sweetheart [ch. 1]

You’re a demon. One day, you’re summoned into a living room, and an exhausted woman quickly rambles about needing to get to work and being unable to find a sitter before flying out the door. Now, you stand in your summoning circle, a toddler staring wide eyed at you.

pairing: taehyung x female demon!reader genre: fluff, crack, smut (but in the other chapters) rating: pg-13 wc: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of the underworld, death (like the Reaper), pagan activities? i mean the woman literally summons a demon LOL

note: prompt is by @writing-prompt-s! i thought it was actually fcking hilarious and half the time i was writing i was like wtf is this LOL also thank you to @jtrbluv for beta reading! my d1 tumblr moot ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗

-> let me know if you want me to make a taglist for this fic or any other fics :)

There’s a tugging sensation at your stomach, and your lips curl into a smile. 

A summoning. Finally. 

Relaxing, you let the sorcery of the summoning whisk you away from your dwelling and hear the familiar pop in your ears as you enter the human realm. Dust setting, you open your eyes, hoping to feast your eyes on your next meal. 

“Who dares to summon—” you boom in your demonic form, clouds of smoke entering the room and a glow of evil cloaking your figure. Of course, it’s all theatrics.  

But…

“I’m so sorry, I tried calling for a babysitter but no one was free,” a frazzled-looking woman interrupts, “and I know, you’re probably like, well, can’t you ask family—”

The woman scrambles to find her keys and belongings, slowly lugging her bag to a door. You stand a few feet away in the middle of a summoning star adorned with a few candles and eerie-looking symbols. There’s an offering of fruits and leftover Halloween candy, along with an edition of the Grand Grimoire. 

“—and I did! I asked Taehyung to come over, that brat, always shirking from his responsibilities, but he said he’s in the middle of a basketball game? Can you believe him? I had asked him to a month ago, and he still managed to forget! Ugh, younger brothers. Anyway, it’s not like I can ask my parents because they’re dead.” 

Surprised, you cut the theatrics and unwind into your natural form. “I mean, Old Reaper spares no one,” you chuckle, shooing away the clouds and lightning. “He’s kind of a nasty fellow, that one. Always so grumpy.”  

The woman freezes, one hand in the midst of putting on a shoe. She turns around, stunned. “You changed.” 

You frown. “Did you expect me to stay in that form forever? It’s actually quite energy-draining— I much prefer this one.” You look down at yourself, confirming that you’re in the correct form. “I mean, I can turn myself into a cat if you would like. Or an elephant, if you’re really feeling up for it. I would be quite loud, though.” 

You’re not quite sure what humans do or do not know. Usually, summonings are quick and short, usually ending with you feasting on the souls of the summoners or the immediate banishing. But this isn’t the usual summoning; there are no teenage kids screaming for their mothers, nor men wrapped in capes who think they’ve found their calling. 

A clatter draws your attention away from the woman and you find a toddler tucked away in a high chair. The child couldn’t have been more than two years old, teething on a strawberry with the remnants of its breakfast laid out in front of her. An oatmeal-covered spoon is on the ground next to the chair. 

Stepping out from the pentagram, you wave your hand and the spoon flies off the ground and lands on the high chair. The child gurgles in delight, grabbing the spoon and throwing it off yet again. 

“This child seems to lack intelligence,” you observe, spinning back to the woman. “Why would it throw the spoon back down? I thought you humans liked using them.” 

The woman unfreezes with a start and continues putting on her shoes. “W-well, you know how toddlers are, always doing something you don’t want them to.” She adjusts herself before putting a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back in a few hours, it will be a very quick grocery trip. I just need some…peace.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “You want me to look after your offspring?” 

“Just for a bit. I’ll be back in a jiffy, alright?” She opens the door and steps out. “There’s food in the fridge for her, diapers are in the drawer under her crib. Just keep her unharmed and alive.” 

And just like that, she’s gone and you’re left with a human baby with a distaste for spoons. You look at the child again in curiosity. Tight, chestnut curls are tied up in two pigtails and her chubby cheeks are stained with strawberry juice. You gently pull at a curl, watching it bounce back into place after you release. 

The child notices this and places your finger into her mouth, gently gnawing on it while cautiously measuring your response. 

“Silly child,” you reprimand gently, pulling your finger back. “That’s not food; if you eat my hand, you’ll get dysentery.”

You snap your fingers and conjure a little black binky for her to gnaw on instead. “Here.” You stuff the binky into the child’s mouth and after a bit of confusion, the toddler starts chewing on it contentedly. 

A smirk crosses your face. “How curious. I wonder what else I could do to you…” 

You sense the presence of another soul before you hear the jingling of keys. They’re inserted into the door, and it opens with a swing. 

“Addie? I’m here— sorry about the wait, the game ran a little long…”

You observe the new figure, a man, clumsily take off his shoes and shove them in the shoe rack. He stumbles towards the living room, dropping a bag off by the couch. 

“Addie?” 

“Are you looking for the child?” you murmur. The man freezes. 

“She’s in her jail,” you continue, floating down from your perch on the ceiling. “I suppose you would call it a crib. The child seemed to grow tired of our games, so I put her to sleep. Temporarily of course— I’m not the reaper.” 

Softly landing on the carpet, you stare at the man’s shocked features, seemingly frozen in time. You tilt your head in confusion. “Well, don’t be too worried. She’ll wake up whenever she feels the need to. I just…coerced her into a nap. It’s not like I can do much else.��� 

You extend a hand. “You must be Taehyung. The tired woman mentioned you.” 

Taehyung glanced down at your hand and slowly reached for it. Shaking it, he gulps, “Wh-what? Who?” 

He points from your perch on the ceiling to you. “What?” 

“Oh, that,” you wave towards your previous spot. “I’m just more comfortable that way. It’s usually how I lounge in Erebus but I thought it would make you too uncomfortable to see me like that.”

“Erebus?” He whispers. “Is that like…the underworld?” 

You shrug. “Yes and no. It’s more like another dimension, really,” you say, inspecting his face. “You seem to be sweating. I forgot how temperamental humans are.” 

You chuckle. “It's a little hot in here for you, isn’t it? I tend to run a little warm and the heat might be radiating into the room.”

A bead of sweat drips off Taehyung’s temples and he swipes at it, unfreezing himself. “Oh, I-I guess? I mean, now that you mention it, it’s a little warm.” He shakily looks you up and down. “What are you even? A demon? Oh my God there’s a fucking demon in Adeline’s house…” 

“Ah, so Lily is the child,” you muse. “So Addie— or Adeline, I suppose— must be the mother.” Swooping past Taehyung, you ignore his noises of disbelief. Landing on the kitchen counter, you pour him a glass of water. “She’s in her jail, like I said.”

You beckon a chair to follow you, instructing it to sweep Taehyung into it. He’s pale as a sheet, scrambling onto the chair as he lands in front of you. You hand him the water. “Sip.” 

He obeys, gulping down the water. After he finishes, you take the glass back while he looks at you warily. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re not from this world, are you?” 

“No, I’m not. Adeline summoned me to become her babysitter around an hour ago, and she simply left me with her offspring,” you snort. “You humans always do the funniest things.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“I mean, hey, good for her for summoning a blank demon— class III nonetheless! Very baby-safe, I can assure you.” 

Taehyung’s brows furrow. “Addie…summoned you?” 

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You chuckle. “At first I was as confused as you are right now, but she quite literally said ‘care for my baby, demon! I will be back’ and left,” you air-quote with your hands. “Said something about being unable to find a babysitter, and I was curious enough about the little one to stay for a while.” 

“So you’re not…stuck here?” 

“Well, no,” you roll your eyes. “I can leave whenever I want. Just how you can leave and enter a door,” you gesture towards the hall, “I can leave and enter this dimension. The summoning just thrusts me here against my will. I can go back whenever I want.” 

“Oh.” 

There’s a bit of a silence as Taehyung collects his thoughts. You listen to the buzz of the refrigerator and the quiet ‘tick-tocks’ of the grandfather clock down the hall; you’re surprised how soothing the monotonous noises are. Maybe the humans are onto something. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, he seemed to relax a little. He fiddles with his hoodie string, gnawing at the end. “Wait so, you won’t hurt us? You said something about being baby-safe.” 

You chuckle. “Yes, I’m very baby-safe. I’m a blank, class III demon. Blank— as in I haven’t developed into a specialty yet— and class III— meaning I’m equipped with the bare minimum of demonic powers.” You shrug. “So yeah, I can do things like make you fly or summon existing objects, but not much else. I’m more of a spirit, really. At least for now.” 

“Huh.” 

Suddenly, you sense a shift in the air and you glance over to the baby monitor on the fridge. Taehyung follows your gaze and jumps up. “Oh, Lily’s awake!” 

He looks over at you, albeit a little warily, and slowly starts walking towards Lily’s room. “Don’t move,” he instructs, pointing a finger at you. “Or else.” 

You put your hands up. “Alright,” you giggle. “How scary!”

Ironic. 

Taehyung glares at you and disappears into the hall. He comes back a few minutes later carrying little Lily in his arm, one hand wiping the drool off of her face. Her eyes light up when she sees you. 

“Puff!” she squeals, reaching for you with two hands. Taehyung holds her back, confused. She’s squirming in his arms, trying to peel away. She whines in annoyance.

You smile. “Yes, child. Puff.” 

A wave of your hand conjures little soot sprites out of the air, the dust bunnies blinking in surprise. The jingle of their movements delight Lily, making her clap as they float down towards her. They scatter around her as she makes attempts to snatch them with her chubby hands. Taehyung keeps her just shy of doing so, though, and it frustrates her. 

“What are they?” he asks, concerned. “Are they your pets or something?”

“They’re soot sprites,” you say softly, waving your hand again and they disappear. Perhaps you should’ve warned Taehyung. “They’re quite harmless, really. Usually residing in abandoned country homes, they’re magical creatures made of soot. They don’t do much but work and exist.” 

Lily wails in dismay as the creatures disappear. You smile apologetically. “I was using them to entertain the child before you got here,” you explain, “which is how she’s so familiar with them. It got her a little dirty, but she seemed to like them enough.” 

“Huh. Cool, I guess.” 

You look over at Taehyung, a little surprised at his reaction. It seems like he’s opening up to some of your antics, which makes you smile a little. 

“Do you mind if I conjure them again?” you ask. “For…Lily.” 

You’re trying to get used to calling the child by her name. 

He nods and places the child on the couch, where you bring the little sprites back. Lily’s eyes widen and she instinctively reaches for them as they float around, surprised once again. 

You and Taehyung both watch her in a comfortable silence, but you can still hear Taehyung’s wheels turning. 

“You know, you can just ask,” you start. 

“Hm?” 

You shrug. “I dunno. It’s not like you see a demon every day, let alone have a demon babysit your niece.” 

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m just trying to process it a little, but I’m just glad you aren’t sent here to hurt us.” 

“It’s not like I could if I wanted to, anyway,” you add. “It’s kind of a development-slash-hierarchy thing. Kind of like your version of puberty? Long story.” 

Taehyung’s lips quirk up. “What do you mean?” 

Before you can answer, though, you hear a jingling of keys and the woman from before swings the door open, shuffling her bags in. She looks around, eyes landing on you and Taehyung. 

“Tae!” she exclaims while shutting the door. She turns back to face you two, walking towards the living room. “And…the demon…-ess? Demoness?” 

“Demon is fine,” you affirm. 

She smiles warily and turns her attention to Taehyung and slaps him on the shoulder. 

“Ow,” he winces, “what was that for?” 

“That,” she starts, swatting away the sprites and picking up her child, “is for neglecting your babysitting duties which ultimately led me to summon a demon.” 

She glances at you. “No offense.” 

“None taken.” 

“But you summoned her yourself!” he splutters in defense. “Freedom of choice and everything—” 

“Don’t even start,” she interrupts, glaring daggers. 

You whistle. “This woman is scarier than me, Taehyung. I would watch out if I were you.” You glance at Adeline. “No offense.” 

She winces. “None taken.” 

“Well, it looks like my services here aren’t needed anymore,” you clap your hands and the soot sprites disappear. Lily frowns. “Not that it was something I expected, but it was kind of fun.” 

Adeline turns to you and smiles softly. “Thank you for everything— I know it was a bit of an inconvenience, but I’m very glad that it turned out how it did. Please come back anytime you want.” 

You laugh. “I’m not sure if I’ll take you up on your offer— I have a lot of training to do back in Erebus— but thank you anyway. Your offspring, Lily, was quite enjoyable.” 

You wave to little Lily— who waves back— and you start walking towards the door for a more “natural” approach to leaving. 

“Wait, hold on.”

You turn around and Taehyung catches up to you. “Are you never coming back?” 

You shrug. “Unless there’s another summoning or if I have a personal reason to. Summonings are tricky, though, it’s a gamble on which demon you’ll get. It runs on an internal lottery system for all demons, so I wouldn’t bet on your chances.” 

He deflates. “Ah.” 

“Maybe you’ll see me, maybe you won’t.” You smile. “It was nice knowing you, though. I’ve learned more about humans today than I ever had at the academy.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows in confusion, but before he has a chance to say anything, you’ve snapped your fingers and disappeared. 

Like before, you let the winds whisk you back to Erebus and you enter with a pop, feet landing on the soft carpet of your room. Glancing at the window, you notice the blood moon starting to rise and your roommate stirs in her sleep. 

Interesting, you think, shaking your head as your horns grow back. You touch them to make sure they’ve come out properly and your wings also make an appearance, the dainty gossamer erupting from your back as you stretch. 

A sigh of relief leaves you as you settle into your own bed, thinking back at what happened. You’ll surely have to go to the Dean tomorrow to explain your absence, but it shouldn’t be something you’re punished for. These summonings are growing more common so quite a few students have been missing this week—  but it’s not something the administration is worried about…yet. 

You roll over to your side, remembering the look on the woman’s face. She was calm for a human— too calm maybe— when she summoned you. Grumbling in confusion, you think. Maybe they’re getting too comfortable with contacting the demonic dimension. 

But you fondly remember how Taehyung’s reaction was much more standard, and you chuckle recalling his sheer fright at the concept of Erebus.

He almost reminded you of a puppy. 

“How cute,” you murmur. 

Yawning, you make a mental note to go to the mortal realm more often. It could do you some good. 

Eyes heavy, you close them and everything goes black.  

[sophierequests]

sophie my sweet love!! i have a request! well multiple, but here is one

dad!kaz where it's years later and they bring their son to the crow club for the first time and he's in awe of everything. and y/n is rushing around to make sure he doesn't touch anything or hurt himself, and kaz is just there with jes smiling at the chaos his family brings

a little crow and a lot of chaos

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: El, I love you for this request, it's so good. I am in love with the idea of dad!Kaz and you have my heart for asking for this. I'll definitely need more dad!Kaz requests or I will pass away (I'm very serious). This is one of the softest fics I'll ever write and I am actually quite happy with how it turned out??? Also, I named the son Jordie, just because I wanted to suffer (and not at all because I'm terrible at picking out names for ocs). Thank you so much for requesting this, El <333

Summary: A little crow visits the Crow Club for the first time and chaos ensues

Genre: F L U F F

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: A very tiny mention of his touch aversion, very soft!Kaz, Sophie doesn't know how children talk and at this point her search history look a bit weird, so she's too scared of looking it up

“Do you really think that this is a good idea?” You directed the question at your husband as you futilely tried to convince your son to put on his boots. The son in question had been in a very lively mood for the entire morning and, as much as you adored him, he became a bloody nuisance when he was as excited as this. Kaz, who had also done his very best to keep the little boy in check, only chuckled as he looked down at you with playful pity.

“I’m sure it will be fine, love.” He mused, straightening his tie and correcting his appearance in the hallway mirror for the hundredth time today. Both of you were far from being new parents, your son now already shy of four years old, but there were some habits you needed to get used to. Especially Kaz. He still had his bad days when everything was just a bit too much for him to handle causing him to retreat into his old shell. Now they were just way less frequent and when they happened, the waves didn’t manage to overtake him completely. All in all, he had managed to become a loving husband and caring father, of whom you couldn’t be any more proud.

“Ma, you promised!” Jordie pouted, staring at you with wide eyes and an overly dramatic quivering lower lip. Saints, you really needed to limit the time he spent with Nina and Jesper…

“I know, I know and we will go to the Crow Club today,” You consoled him whilst finally succeeding in shoving the godforsaken boots over his feet. You turned your face to a smirking Kaz, who seemed to be having the time of his life just about now. “I’m just a bit worried that we might run into people that your daddy doesn’t necessarily like.”

“It’s the middle of the day. The club is probably close to being empty. There’s nothing to worry about. And if there should be some sort of trouble lurking-”

“Uncle Jes will protect us all with his guns!” Your son jumped up, giving both of you a wide grin before taking confident strides towards the front door. Kaz tried to stifle a chuckle, but he inevitably failed as he saw your utterly flabbergasted expression. Sometimes, you were surprised none of your friends had taught him to say ‘fuck’ yet - not that you intended on giving them any ideas.

“Maybe we should think about who we choose as babysitters a bit more thoroughly.” Kaz stood behind you, letting his hands rest on your shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss on your temple. “But I’d say we leave now, or he might show us what else his aunts and uncles have taught him.”

Since you didn’t live in the Barrel anymore, you had to walk a bit to reach the Crow Club. The walk from your estate in the Geldstraat wasn’t far, but your husband still was very content with carrying Jordie for a brief portion of the way. It made you recall past days when he would struggle immensely with even attempting to publicly show affection towards you, or anyone for that matter. In his mind, it made him appear valuable and weak. As your son grew older, these feelings subsided, replaced by a new sense of responsibility and strength.

Many people couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the Barrel, however, seeing it through the eyes of a small boy, whose father wasn’t reluctant to tell stories about all the crazy heists his parents and their friends had completed here, made it easier for you to understand why your son was so excited to come back. And it wasn’t like the Barrel was all that bad. It had been your home for the majority of your teenage years and it was where you met your closest friends, after all. Becoming parents had kept both you and Kaz from coming back frequently unless it was work-related, so you were more than glad to enjoy your time without having to worry about completing a job or filling out paperwork. The only thing you had to worry about now was keeping your son from touching anything dangerous or hurting himself. That couldn’t be so hard, right?

Jordie wriggled himself out of your spouse’s arm as the oxidized silver crow sign of the Crow Club came into sight. Kaz was quick to reach for his hand, holding onto it tightly to keep him from running out of your sight. You hastily moved forward to grab the other one, letting him walk between the two of you, which he begrudgingly accepted. You couldn’t blame him for being excited. It was his first time actually seeing the club from the inside since you had vehemently insisted on keeping him from the vulgar sceneries that could be found in gambling dens and clubs of all sorts as long as you possibly could. The only exception you ever made was occasionally bringing him around to the Slat to pay a visit to his father while he was working. You were sure that if things would go how Kaz wanted them to go, he would’ve brought him to the Crow Club whilst still in diapers.

Upon entering the establishment, the eyes of the few patrons immediately snapped towards Kaz. No matter how much of a doting husband he may be when you were alone, he still had one hell of a reputation, which he was proud to employ for his benefit. Even though it was quite the difficult task to do so, whilst grasping onto the tiny hands of a preschooler. With one determined snap of his cane, the majority of the gazes found their way back to their drinks and the three of you could finally settle without being the centre of everyone's attention.

One pair stayed fixed on you.

“Uncle Jes!” Your son squealed, yanking his hands out of your grip and running towards the Sharpshooter that stood leaning against the bar, clumsily placing his glass of whiskey on the counter next to him. You wanted to dash after him, but your partner only gave you a reassuring look, putting his cane out in front of you to block your way. Jesper flashed you a toothy grin, adjusting his hat before bending down and picking Jordie up to give him a big hug. Against Kaz’s initial disbelief, your friend proved to be the best godfather and babysitter that you could have wished for. Only when he was not trying to introduce your son to his array of shenanigans and pranks though.

“Look who’s here! Have you gotten taller since the last time I’ve seen you?” Jesper quipped, causing Jordie to giggle uncontrollably.

“The last time you’ve seen him was two days ago, I doubt that he had a paranormal growth spurt since then.” Kaz retorted in his typical sarcastic tone, but with a barely noticeable grin on his lips. His comment was only countered with a jaunty eye roll before the attention was back on the little boy.

“What are you doing here, little crow?” Jesper asked as if he hadn’t been the one to plant the idea of visiting the Crow Club in Jordie’s head in the first place. “Are you joining the big boy club now?”

“It was about time that we showed him where people like his parents and godparents spent their teenage years.” Kaz chuckled, earning a warning glare from you, which he tactfully ignored. As much as you loved spending time here, the fact that it was a gambling den filled with some of the most dangerous criminals Ketterdam could breed, didn’t necessarily scream kid friendly.

And of course, your worries were justified.

As soon as Jesper put him back down, he began to wander around the club. It was a lot different to what he knew from the Barrel. The flashy colours and extravagant designs of most of the other bars were replaced by the rich black and crimson interior of the Crow Club. It was the physical manifestation of Kaz Brekker in the form of a betting hall.

The first object of attraction that managed to reel Jordie in, was the array of card tables that were spread out all over the main hall. He waddled away from the bar, right in the direction of a table that was currently being used by four sketchy-looking men. It was very likely that he was only interested in seeing what game they were playing or that he wanted to look at the intricate crow pattern on the red cloth that coated the circular tables.

“Jordie, don’t bother these lovely men. I’m sure they simply want to enjoy their game in peace.” You called after him, but he didn’t listen. Not wanting him to get into trouble, you hurried forward, trying to catch him, or at the least keep him in check. You didn’t see the amused look on your husband’s face as he watched you scurry after a feisty three-year-old and it was better that you didn’t. He did understand why you were so anxious about your son being here, but he just couldn’t stifle the enjoyment he got from your so-called ‘mother hen behaviour’ as Jes had lovingly dubbed it. Before he could reach the table you were already right behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders to navigate him away from it. The men hadn’t even noticed him, but you weren’t able to hide the embarrassment written all over your face.

To your dismay, a door to one of the private gambling parlours opened, revealing the now empty room. Obviously, this only served as a new point of interest to Jordie, who instantly rushed towards it to see what was going on inside. Sometimes you really wondered whether you should attempt to put a leash on him.

Kaz’s eyes followed you ceaselessly as you sprinted all around the club, holding back your son from touching any sharp edges and apologizing to numerous customers who had been deemed important enough to be appealing to him. No matter how hard he tried to disguise his smile and turn it into a self-satisfied smirk, it didn’t work out.

“Come on, Kaz. Are you going soft on us? If Nina could see you right now, you would never be free from her bullying.” Jesper grinned, raising his eyebrows at the man next to him.

“If Nina could see me right now, she would tell me to get a decent haircut.” He replied, stealing Jesper’s whiskey off of the counter and helping himself to a considerable sip from the glass.

“And she would be right. But she’d also absolutely relish the sight of Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, smiling like a lovesick teenage boy.”

“She’s my wife, Jesper. I am allowed to look at her how I please.”

“Of course you are. It’s just nice to know that the big scary Dirtyhands does have a heart sometimes. Even if that heart manifests through the heart eyes he gives his wife.”

“Shut up Jesper.”

Their friendly bickering was cut short by a hollow clanking noise, coming from a chair that your son had managed to knock over. He watched as you hastily picked it up before ushering him back towards the bar whilst trying to make yourself as small as possible to get rid of any unwanted attention.

“Alright, young man,” Kaz laughed, putting a hand on Jordie’s back to steer him towards the exit. “I think that you did quite enough exploring for the day. Let’s head to the Slat, I heard that your other aunts and uncles might want to spend the evening with us.”

At the mention of the Crows, he gave up his pouting and was now eager to leave the club. You could only shake your head, joining Jesper and Kaz on their way out, still carefully eying your overly energetic child.

"Oh Jes, are we still going out for W-A-F-F-L-E-S later, or did the plans change?" You questioned the Zemeni boy in an attempt to not excite your son too much. This plan flew straight over Jesper’s head.

"Why did you just spell out waffles?" He snickered, cocking his brows inquisitively. You sighed, seeing Jordie’s eyes go wide with joy.

"Are we getting waffles later?! Will aunt Nina be there too? Can I have the ones with extra chocolate?" A cluster of questions started tumbling from his mouth as he nearly seemed to be buzzing with glee.

"That's why." Kaz answered, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder before lifting Jordie off his feet, whose ramblings were cut short by a joyful squeal.

[multi-fandom-simp]

Ghost of you

Helaena Targaryen x Female!Reader (MAIN), Slight Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Synopsis: You and Helaena had been lovers in secret for years, peaceful and content lovers at that. What happens when the dance of dragons turns that peace into pain? Could you live with the burden of everything being torn from your grasp?

! TW !: Mention of character death. mention of blood, heavy drinking, brief mention of incest(between Helaena and Aemond, not the reader), mentions of murder, mention of suicide, self harm, hallucinations, bad mental health, angst ofc

(A/N: This a little blurb I had while listening to some music earlier, and I just had to write it down. It is based off of "Ghost of You" by 5SOS. It fit Helaena so well, I couldn't not write it. I've never done a writing centered around a song, so it was fun to experiment. As always, I love to hear your thoughts on the piece or even helpful criticism, so don't be shy, I always love to talk/listen! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!)

(P.S. Dialogue will be in italics like always, but the song lyrics are in bold italics!)

Word Count: 1,267

You couldn't quite pinpoint the moment in which you fell head over heels for your husband's sister, Helaena Targaryen. Also known as the dreamer or the idiot as Aegon would disdainfully call her. She had been a constant part of your life from the moment you were betrothed to her brother, Aemond, up until now. Originally greeting you as a friend and soon-to-be sister, then turning into the very reason your heartbeat. Neither Aemond nor Aegon cared, in fact, the two of them preferred it. Aemond loved his sister in the same way you did, and Aegon didn't care what the three of you did as long as he could visit his whores. The pair of them still did their duty of course, as did you and Aemond.

Alysara and Alarys were the names that Helaena had gifted the first and only two children you would have with Aemond. In return, you had gifted similar names to her first two babes. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys had undoubtedly been Aegon's, but Maelor came as a result of Helaena's first night with you and Aemond. Though Aemond wasn't a bad father, you and your lover were mainly the ones raising the brood of Targaryen children. Almost as if it were only the two of you who had produced the small little family. If only it could've stayed that way forever.

~Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side

There's your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time~

The blinding sun is what rouses you from your slumber rather than Helaena's airy whispers. It crawls through the corners of your eyes, forcing them to open, forcing them to stare at the wine chalice still left on the balcony's edge. You focus on the rose-colored imprint staining the edge of the glass, it's the same imprint that she often left on your cheek.

~If I can dream long enough, you'd tell me I'd be just fine

I'll be just fine~

You can almost see her, if you close your eyes slowly enough that is. The glare from the sun outlines Helaena's body as she bound towards the bed. Her wild ashen hair glimmers like whisps of wind and the laughter bubbling from her lips sounds like a handful of diamonds.

"You'll miss the sunrise, Issa jorrāelagon" My love. The moment she says those two words her image flickers. Her feet were now firmly planted on the edge of the balcony rather than the floor of it.

"Forgive me, Issa jorrāelagon" and just like that, the dream is over and Helaena is gone.

~So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you~

Squeezing your eyes shut does nothing to erase the memory, but wine does. The scarlet poison is what drags you from bed on this morning, and every other morning as well. The wildfire that it sparks in your throat keeps the memories behind a wall of fire.

~And I chase it down, with a shot of truth

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you~

Between every swig and every gulp, there is a breath. A sharp, hiccupping breath that reminds you that you're still alive. You're alive and Helaena is not. The breath is drowned out with another swig and then another gulp. You repeat the cycle until you're no longer dancing alone in the sunlight.

"I'm here, Issa jorrāelagon" The smell of citrus and grass announces her presence. It drowns you better than wine does. Burning not only your throat but your heart too.

~Cleaning up today, found that old Zeppelin shirt

You wore when you ran away, and no one could feel your hurt~

You reached out to touch her, hold her, anything to know that she was real. The cotton of her dress no more than grazed your fingers before it was pooling with blood. It ran down your fingers like spilled wine.

"You're not here, not really" Another swig, another gulp, this time to choke down the sobs. Before you know it, the walls began to sway. You reach out for the bedpost only to meet the cold ground instead. The stone floor is unforgiving against your head.

~We're too young, too dumb, to know things like love~

Innocent giggles and the telltale sound of lips bounce off the walls, " I'd like to do that again."

"I can't deny a princess now can I?" You had sounded so young, so naïve, nothing like how you were now. The only thing remaining true throughout your growth was the unwavering loyalty to Helaena. Even in death your heart only answered to her.

"You'll be a princess once you marry Aemond-"

"-I'd much rather marry you." Perhaps things would've been different if you were allowed to love Helaena openly. You could've asked for her hand, married her, saved her from birthing Aegon's children. Saved her from losing them because they were Aegon's children.

~But I know better now, better now~

"It should've never been you" Your sobs were the only truthful thing at the moment. Your husband had been the one to kill Lucerys Velaryon, so why was it Helaena who lost her son and not you? She had loved both of your children as her own, but their loss would've never driven her to madness as Jaehaerys's death had.

A son for a son, and yet they had taken much more than that. It started with a son and then ended with a lover. They had even taken your husband from you. It didn't even matter if you truly loved him or not. The fact that he was gone and with Helaena in whatever afterlife there was felt like torture to you. Aemond should've been here to keep you from drowning, but he wasn't.

~So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you~

"Hurry, you'll miss the sunrise!" You pushed yourself up on trembling arms and tried to stand. You got a few inches from the ground before your knee crashed back down.

" I'm coming, birdy, I promise" The pads of your fingers broke open as you stumbled your way along the rough ground. Every push and pull more agonizing than the last, but it all vanished once you looked up. Helaena's feet padded softly as she twirled past you and over to the balcony where her cup still lay. She brought the chalice to her rose-colored lips, peering over the rim as she did so. Your heart stuttered as her eyes met yours.

"Wait for me," you wanted to scream. Instead, you pushed harder, even grabbing the walls for leverage. Push after pull, scrape after scuffle, you eventually reach your love, your Helaena.

~And I chase it down, with a shot of truth

Your hands reached for her once more, " You're here-"

That my feet don't dance like they did with you~

"-muña?" You stumbled forward against the balcony's railing, Helaena disappearing with the wind. You turned your head to find your oldest boy, Alarys, with Jaehaera by his side. Her little eyes were wide with fear as she observed you crumpled against the same balcony that she had watched her mother jump from. Jaehaera's eyes were like a douse of cold water as realization dawned on you. Looking down, your feet left trails of scarlet, your dress was torn in places, and most importantly, you were alone. You had not been dancing, you had been crawling. Helaena was never here.

You were doing nothing more than dancing with the ghost of her.

[crushedsweets]

back w more of my song analysis bs cause im studying music performance and it’s all I think about 😍 sorry this is so long. i have so many Thoughts

the chain by fleetwood mac is such a brian song. no big beat drop, just constant driving bass - shows determination, relentlessness. specifically the line “if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again” which i take to mean “after i do what im about to do i will become unlovable, so you if you don’t love me now then you will never be able to because i’ll be such an irredeemable person”

geyser by mitski is a really good song to describe nina’s relationship with Jeff. the way that the song starts off so slow, so quiet and thin, but then swells to a grand and full sound like how nina’s obsession started off so small but then grew to control her entire life. love the line “and hear the harmony only when it’s harming me”

a pearl by mitski and LJ (another mitski song cause she’s my fav artist ever) about his abandonment mmm. plus the slightly sinister sounding chords showing his evilification(?? yk what i mean. when he turned emo) ugh “you’re growing tired of me” and “i fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended” so him

tongues and teeth by the cranes wives and EJ. this is SO his song. ALL of the lyrics r so incredibly him,, “my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear” plus the slightly manic instrumental, highlighting the panic he feels at potentially harming people he loves HLGKFJJDS.

also, for ur consideration, miss nothing by the pretty reckless x nat.

- anon 🌙

anon im kicking my feet. AGGHHGHG. ohh my god. yhou are using musical word that i do not comprehendn in the same way you may but wow do i love the way you describe it. very poetic i think. ill talk abt these.. and then mention a liil extra smth abt toby i thought when driving yesterday

the chain is yes very brian.... ugh... yeyah. yeah. 'after i do what im about to do' is so real. like being so very aware and conscious of your awful decisions and still going through with them. quite brian-like even under the whole complexities with hoody persona etc etc....

AND YEAH GEYSER TOO . the start of the song feels very like... idk if scary is right but its just very deep and could be quite unsettling.... nina longs for love. "i've turned down every hand thats beckoned for me to come" very pretty, fun, easy-going girl that could have plenty of suitors and yet she's still crawling towards this fucking beast of a man who is nothing good for her. "i will be the one you need" constantly warping herself for this man that wouldn't do shit for her, and she doesn't mind because she loves him in every single which way he is, and she loves how awful it is . and FUCKKKKK SHE NEEDS TO GET BETTER SHE NEEDS TO GET AWAY. she gets away dont worry. she gets over him. lots of crying and sobbing and screaming but she gets over it. its very hard to get over something awful when you crave awful

im not a huge lj fan (SCARED OF CLOWNS IM SORRY GUYS IK I KEEP HARPING ON ABOUT IT) but i loooove a pearl. "i fell in love with a war / nobody told me it ended" wow. ok. yeah. wow. jesus. rolling the pearl around looking for anything and everything that could soothe the ache of literal fucking abandonment while all you can do is wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and then its all too much and damn . :( damn ok.

IVE GORWN A MOUTH SO SHARP AND CRUEL IS LITERALLY SO PERFFECTLY EJ. FUCK. "I am not a vessel for your good intents" oh but he is sure a vessel for something demonic .... "abonded all your stupid dreams / about the girl i couldve been" HE HAD SOOO MANY FUCKING DREAAAMSSSS he wants to be a doctor he wanted to save lives he wanted a family he wanted a dog he wanted to see his little siblings grow up he wanted to take care of his elderly parents. and now all he can do is sit and be miserable because he is a monster and there is only so much he can do about it. damn. wow.

also yeah to the nat thing wow.

wow. yeah. goddamn.

AND ALSOOOOO OK LAST NIGHT I WAS DRIVING AND THIS SONG CAME ON

shit show by peter mcpoland i just keep thinking about toby. tbh ill find a way to twist any song into toby cuz i like him but yea. this is leaning more into the found family thing after losing his own and just seeing the way different people reflect his past and its gut wrenching but you know how he is. just a guy of sorts. he spends a lot of his time angry and wanting to isolate and self destruct and ruin everything around him . but he also spends a lot of his time desperate for normalcy, for respect, to be seen as a human fucking being and ah fugugh. im just imagining brian pulling him out to meet the owner of the farm near slenders forest and making him stand straight and telling the farmer 'he's a good kid, hard worker, strong. keep him around" (the hardworking strong part is true, at least) and toby's about to die cuz he's so stressed (this is shortly after all the fucking murder) but brian lightly slaps him on the back and he stands up straight and the farmer just shakes his hand and says smth nice abt 'got a good grip there' and and and guyyyyssss..... and holidays..are so hard for hhim.. and "i swear i'd see your faces staring up at me" ohh my goddd.... "I don't wanna drink alone today" man................... guys...... man......

[idontknowreallywhy]

Best Jupidad Moments #3 Nevermoor Ch 5&6 - “Welcome to your New Life. Ps. You’re Loved Now.”

I could legitimately quote the whole chapter here, but as promised just picking out some highlights…

He paused to slip out of his tailored blue overcoat and drape it around Morrigan’s shoulders. It was much too long for her, and her arms didn’t quite reach the end of the sleeves, but she hugged it close, revelling in its warmth. Jupiter ran one hand through his wilting coppery updo and, taking Morrigan’s hand with the other, led her along the chilly streets as the sky began to lighten.

This scene melts my heart. Of course he makes sure she’s not cold… that much is unsurprising, but what’s lovely isn’t so much the fact he gives her his coat, it’s her reaction to it. I don’t think it’s only the physical warmth of Jupiter’s coat she revels in here. It’s the emotional warmth - affection, understanding, concern for her welfare, encouragement, even joy - that he’s introduced into her world over the last hour or so, and which she’s been starved of her whole life.

And look, he’s leading her by the hand again.

Then Jupiter turned to look back up at her. She waited for him to say something, but he was silent. No words of encouragement. No persuasion or reassurance. He simply watched, waiting to see what she would do.

This is a surprising one - you might have thought he’d have given her a big grin and shouted “Don’t worry! You can do this! I’m right here!” etc etc. But his words might have crowded out the process she was going through in her mind, and may have made it harder for her to come to the realisation she wanted to do this. The only contribution he makes now is his presence and his attention.

Morrigan let Jupiter’s overcoat fall in a pile at her feet. Climbing on to the balustrade, she opened her new oilskin umbrella with shaking hands.

So this is a decision Morrigan has to make on her own. Jupiter isn’t going to carry her or hold her hand this time. The fact she sheds his warm overcoat symbolises this. She does, however, need the new tool he’s gifted her to be able to make the jump.

It’s a bit like the parent-child relationship on fast forward! You can only do so much for your child, at some point you have to stand back and let them live their own best life. The overcoat was a temporary gift to shield and protect her from the external chill until she was ready. The permanent gift of the umbrella is Jupiter enabling Morrigan to fly on her own.

Only Jupiter stood still, watching Morrigan, his face a mixture of pride, relief and admiration. Nobody in the world had ever looked at her that way.

This brief moment where the two of them are almost frozen in time with each other while everyone else goes mad around them is just perfect. It would be cinematic gold.

It gives us an insight into Jupiter’s emotions too - we can obviously imagine how relieved Morrigan is right now, but Jupiter has been planning this for a year or more and there were a few moments where it was looking a touch hairy - the relief that it worked out would be extreme.

I think he’s also relieved that she made the jump too - it demonstrates that she hasn’t ended up as broken, untrusting, unwilling to take risks as her upbringing might have made her.

And remember how much more he can see when he looks at her - amongst all her emotions he can see her joy at being alive, and that must fill him with relief too.

She marched over to where he stood, unsure whether to throw her arms around him or push him into the fountain. In the end she did neither. ‘Happy New Age’ were the words Morrigan spoke.

But the words in her heart were ‘I’m alive’.

I love both of the options she considers here as both are so comfortable and familial. He’s probably the first person she’s ever wanted to hug. And he’s the first person she’d ever have felt safe enough with to push him into a fountain in fun. In the end she does neither, but elects to say the three words she’d spent her whole life believing she was doomed to neither say nor hear… and that’s a triumph for both of them.

[ameliafairchild]

freya allan . cis woman . she/her .  *:･ﾟ✧ is that that amelia fairchild , the twenty-two year old active shadowhunter ? it’s rare to see them without their electrum-laced whip but maybe they’re off duty tonight. they’ve been in the capital city all her life , and rumour has it that they notoriously are brash , whilst also managing to be quite adventurous. last i heard , they were against the royal family ; i wonder what they make of all this upheaval within mundane world .

compare to : sailor venus ( sailor moon ), caroline forbes ( the vampire diaries ), buffy summers ( buffy the vampire slayer ), sarah cameron ( outer banks ), elizabeth swann ( pirates of the caribbean ), margaery tyrell ( game of thrones ), jennifer jareau ( criminal minds ), padme amidala ( star wars ), jackie ( yellowjackets ), legolas ( lord of the rings )

aesthetic : staying up all night to see the sunrise just to make sure it still comes up. the warmth of the sun on your skin. the grim days slowly beginning to overshadow the good ones. a matchstick heart just waiting to burn. the almost overwhelming feeling of not being good enough. burying insecurities six feet under. longing for the irresponsibility of childhood while the weight of duty presses down. wishing on every star in the night sky. people call you fickle & you laugh in their face ( who would ever want to be known as predictable? ).

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

full name : amelia theodora fairchild nicknames : lia, melia age : 22 gender / pronouns : cis woman / she & her sexual orientation : demisexual romantic orientation : biromantic

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

personality traits : charismatic, brash, adventurous, capricious, conceited, impulsive fears : irrelevance secret talents : can juggle, is ambidextrous goals & ambitions : to live up to her parent's expectations & make a name for herself memorable traits : a laugh too loud for polite company, unable to stay still character alignment : chaotic neutral label : the icarian vices : impatience, vanity, recklessness virtues : loyalty, courageousness, justice

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

eye color : blue hair colour : blonde hair type/style : typically worn long/wavy but pulled back in a braid when training or fighting height : 5'5 build : slender/athletic exercise habits : regularly works out & practices sparring dominant hand : left glasses/contacts : n/a tattoos : angelic runes piercings : n/a faceclaim : freya allan

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

mother : ____ fairchild ( head of the institute/spouse to the head of the institute ) father : ____ fairchild ( head of the institute/spouse to the head of the institute ) siblings : ____ fairchild ( older brother ), alina fairchild ( older sister ), ioana fairchild ( older sister ), selyse fairchild ( older sister ) children : n/a extended family : tbd. pets : a cat named artemis parabatai : tbd.

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

amelia was the last of the fairchild children born to the head of the valanya institute and had fairly big shoes to live up to. there were so many expectations upon her from an early age that very easily could have broken her. she couldn't understand why 'the law is hard, but it is the law,' and things couldn't be a bit more...flexible. that belief followed her into her later years. a dutiful daughter turned into a brazen young shadowhunter.

while she loves her siblings and would do anything for them (even break the law), she still feels a bit of jealousy towards them, like she's living in their shadows. it's tough being the youngest and feeling like every accomplishment has already been achieved. it's led her to be a bit more reckless in her pursuit of being a worthy shadowhunter. there's so many things they did first or were better at that she's trying so hard to prove that she measures up as well.

she's very much worried about the situation with the king, especially as her family has long served the crown. in theory, she knows they should be loyal, but her own morality wars with that knowledge, especially as it's become more than clear that things are not right in the kingdom. and with the threat of an all-out war on the horizon, amelia feels like an axe is hanging above them all; she's just not sure who will ultimately lose in the end. she's just hoping her family can escape as unscathed as possible.

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

find them here!

[chaitigers]

Ivan infodump

OK SO i posted my little guy Ivan (big deer guy) and as i mentioned in his post, hes a mix of different characters i've like found interesting and that had interesting concepts that i wanted to explore in a character so yeah I decided to make ivan!

Ivan's like part of this universe im a part of w some buddies and he's like a werecreature (i cant rlly go super in depth w the lore here because i dont rlly know it that well LHDFCBDVLKHB) he was turned into one like after some stuff happened in his life that left him broke so he needed money to like get back on his feet and doing that (essentially making himself a test subject for this thing some scientists were doing) was the only way he could. Heres where the first theme i wanted to explore comes in, Guilt and Debt.

If anyone's read crime and punishment, the main character Raskolnikov essentially k1lls his crusty musty landlady so he doesnt have to owe her his rent anymore which imo, slay, but at the same time he is riddled with this immense guilt and like questioning himself as to wether or not committing a crime and a deadly sin (because hes also catholic so another LAYER of guilt added)

Raskolikov gets sent to prision to like seve his sentence but most of the book is like him debating with himself wether or not what he did was right, because he mrd3red someone that was a pest both to him and everyone else who owed rent to her, and she was a busive and mean so like thats someon no one would miss because she was bad so he's good for killing her, it was for the greater good, but at the same time in the eyes of the law Raskolnikov is a criminal, as well as in the eyes of religion because he murdered someone and thats an unforgivable act and hes supposed to go to hell for that.

In Ivan's case, his guilt lies in the fact that he was essentially the reason him a nd his family's business went into banktrupcy, if he was never born he woudln't have caused much trouble to his parents. He's the son of a violin maker, meaning business is not as big as theyd wish it to be especially as violins are expensive as shit because theyre handmade works of art that only few know the trade of making them and stuff. Ivan obviously inherited the knowledge from his father, helped him in the shop and helped to provide for his own family even as a child, but he still carries that guilt of being the reason niether one of his parents could fulfill any of the desires they had due to him being just "a burden" in his tiny little head.

In the debt aspect, he is quite literally indebted, left with the previous unpaid bills and unfinished projects his father left after he passed, and left with a bunch of customersn his father still owed things to like money, instruments and materials. To Ivan, thats the way he's repaying the hardships he made his parents go through. the family burdens are passed down generation by generation as well, because many of most of the monetary debts came from people of the past that made those bad desicions and left their descendants to deal with them. Ivan is determined to fulfill these depts, at all costs, and eventually that costs him his humanity.

NOW ONTO HANNIBAL!

I mostly wanted to do the c@nn1balsm as a metaphor for all consuming, obsessive love with Ivan , especially the love for his craft (because in the end he loves what he's doing, hes a passionate violin maker) but literally in the way that he loves as well. He isnt that bad looking, at least according to him (in my head his face claim is jacob elordi specifically in saltburn and like post euphoria and the kissing booth) but he does feel like he's hard to love because of all the guilt hes carrying for shit he didnt even do (like be incredibly indebted to the state). hes super inexperienced in love, has only had one long lasting relationship, and that relationship is one that consumed him so much that he couldnt see himself living apart from that person he loved after they broke up. Ivan has an anxious attachment style, always has and hes like a kitten with separation anxiety, he will wail and scream until he gets back to that person he feels safe with even if it means that he's actively pushing them away because of how clingy he is.

all that to say that he ate his ex boyfriend because if he couldnt be with ivan then no one could have him

So yeah that is like almost all of Ivan's story! i love him dearly and rlly want to expand more on him in the future!

[rollercoasterwords]

rae.... how are u...... how's life.... what are you reading rn & is it good? how do u like ur tea? what's your fav sentence you've ever written? and most importantly how's the weather!

hi hello!! what a nice message i'm doing good life is fun rn i'm on a little. weeklong vacation been having a good time walking around + exploring etc...got 2 pet some sheep got a fun manicure bought a bunch of presents 4 my friends + family went 2 a spa!! 4 the first time fun new experience...getting a tattoo tomorrow afternoon which i am v excited abt <3 unfortunately the trip is coming 2 an end i have tomorrow & then half the day wednesday before i take a train back home in the afternoon and then i have. one week!! 2 pack up my entire apartment + say goodbye to all my friends before i move...life is a whirlwind rn & it's mostly fun atm but next week i'm worried that the sadness of leaving behind the city(&country!) where i've lived for 2 years is finally gonna start settling in </3

as for reading i've been in a bit of a book slump lately...been wanting something fast-paced + fun but haven't been able 2 settle on something new to actually pick up & start...i did finally start reading volume 1 of marx's capital this past week but it is. SUCH slow going...i'm taking notes + reading it in v small chunks 2 try & absorb it all so i haven't even finished ch 1 yet lol

i am not a big tea drinker 2 be quite frank!! i much prefer coffee but i have recently sort of given up coffee 4 health reasons...still treat myself 2 a fun coffee beverage every so often but she is no longer a daily staple in my life </3 so i have sort of been replacing her with. peach iced tea <3 which is very easy 2 find here & satisfies my craving 4 a cold sweet drink...generally speaking i'm not a hot-drink guy i like iced beverages & that holds true 4 tea...i like it iced & sweet...except i don't like sweet tea (us-south version...sorry southerners). & when i do drink hot tea i want it 2 be sweet...i want honey or sugar...some milk as well...& my favorite hot tea is yuja tea <3 the kind that looks like jam + comes in a big jar & u mix it into hot water. DELISH that was my winter beverage this year i drank it religiously

favorite sentence i've ever written. well i don't have one...i've written many sentences that i love i simply don't think i can pick a favorite <3 ONE of my faves that i can name off the top of my head tho is the last line of thtf! also wrote a song this year w some of my fave lyrics i've written chorus goes "and if i'm a rabbit/you can cut off my feet/and if you are hungry/what's my body but meat?" which i am quite fond of i'd include that in the favorites list <3

as for!! the weather!!! there was a big storm at the beginning of the weekend so it was very rainy + windy for a bit but honestly i liked it because the temperature dropped so much that it was actually quite pleasant outside for most of friday + saturday...cloudy & drizzly & a little cool. but the sun came back full force by sunday so now it's. SO fucking hot & it's incredibly humid as well...honestly think i'm getting used 2 the heat & humidity tho it's not destroying me the way it did last summer...still hate it tho >:( moving 2 a colder climate soon & while i'm sure i'm going 2 freeze 2 death come november after years of getting used 2 mild winters right now i am just. REALLY looking forward to cheating my way out of summer...should start cooling down in september right when i'm moving whereas if i wasn't moving i'd be expecting another month of heat...#lifehack

[thedevotedhealer]

Because I Love You

TRIGGER WARNING!: murder, blood, gore, YANDERE! Male! Sakura, Obsessive Behaviour, Anger issues, Hyugas need to chill.

<modern Au>

3rd POV:

One Summer day, after a heated argument with your parents about how you want to be with Sakuro Haruno, which the Hyūga clan family (yes, ur from the Hyūga clan) outwardly, "politely" refused, stating that they wouldn't let her marry off to some clanless, lowlife mercenary. your heart sunk in your stomach, knowing fully well that the great Hyuuga clan of "Hyūga corporate" would never let in an outsider, much less a civilian mercenary and a war medic from a merchant-descending family anywhere near people of such high status, let alone marry into one. it was still a status problem, even in 21'st century.

The tears welled in your eyes, as you buried your head in your palms, crying from the pressure of emotions, cursing yourself inwardly for being born into such a ruthless and arrogant clan.

Then between your fingers, you saw a set of mint-green glowing eyes. You clear your vision, not quite wanting to face your lover, but also worried as you now could clearly make out his features.

His viridian eyes were wide open, darkened, pupils, dilating, until they settled into a very sharp, almost cat-like form, his jaw was clenched tight as he ground his teeth from anger, his body tense and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was grasping the fabric of his jeans before he relaxed after your father has finished his rant about destiny and how he was a lowlife and whatnot.

Still

He went completely still, his bangs foreshadowing his expression.

Burying your face back into your hands with shame and embarrassment and the need to burst in tears once more, you finally decided to storm off and get some air, even though you weren't sure how good of an idea it was to leave your love behind with your family, but you didn't care at that moment, all you needed was some fresh air to clear your mind.

"Y/n Hyūga, come back here right this instant!" her mother called out after you angrily.

Y/N' POV:

"I resent all of you so much, Mother. If only you could just shut up, crawl into a ditch, and die!" I screamed and stormed out, cussing out my lineage, gasps and the rage-filled voice of my mother slowly dying out as I ran further, finally out of the mansion.

Too bad that would be the last words I would ever say to them.

As my father would say "fate would be inevitable."

If only i had stayed...

After 5 minutes of trying to cool my head, I started to regret my words. 'Maybe that was a bit too harsh... I should apologiz-'

*BANG*

before i could finish my thought, something loud came from the house. Maybe something fell? Or maybe Father threw something...?

Oh no...

Sakuro!

Quickly I ran back from the big garden in a hurry, swinging the giant door open.

"What happen-!!!" before i could finish my thought, Sakuro was walking out with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes dull and dark.

I ran up to him and hugged him tightly, sighing in relief that he was safe. "Sakuro-Kun what was that sound, w-what-" Before I could finish my sentence, I looked up at his face properly, I noticed only then:

Red splatters on his face adorned his mostly flawless features, dripping from the side at some point.

then, a metallic scent filled my nose.

3rd POV"

Backing away from him on slow and shaky feet, she looked down at his clothes, taking in his appearance: black and red materials of his shirt and flannel had been darkened, his jeans splattered with the same substance as the one on his face, a gun in one hand and long strands of bloody mat of long hair in his other one, his tall body hunched over slightly, lost in thought, dazed almost. She looked by the entrance of the living room, lower body of what she could make out was her sister, blood pooling around slowly straying its path to random directions and down at herself, her once clean attire now covered in her parent's and sister's blood.

Then it happened: Darkened viridian met pearly Lilac.

"Hey, Y\n?" he asked, a dazed look still eminent on his features.

The h/c haired woman couldn't muster a reply, her lip started trembling, eyes wide, backing away towards the door slowly, which the pink-haired mercenary had followed suit after, not making harsh or rash movements, as if to not startle an already scared animal, who was ready to bolt at any given moment. "You love me, right? no matter what I may do? You will still keep the promise, right?"

Pearly lilac met his gaze once more, she picked up on his broken tone as if he was holding back his emotions that were pressured like a dome about to break and spill over. her eyes pleading silently, begging to tell her it was not true, that this was a prank and her beloved family was still alive, yet all she got in return was his blank gaze, face softening, morphing into a guilty and apologetic look.

She shook her head. "No... NO! What have you done?!" She screamed, both in horror and rage. She tried to dash to the door and open it, but was beaten to it by a large, gloved hand, banging the giant door closed, the hinges rattled from the Sheer force.

Gloves...

Those were his military gloves, her mind provided, covered in blood, leaving a red trail on the door as his hand slid down.

His arms sneaked around her, holding her.

"NO! LET ME GO!!! MURDERER, MONSTER!!!" The last remaining Hyuga of the household screamed eyes blurred from the tears streaming relentlessly down her features. "MAMA, PAPA!!! NEE-SAMA, HELP, PLEASE!!!"

She kept thrashing and screaming for help, trying to get out of the Pink-Haired monster's grip, which wouldn't budge the slightest at her attempts to free herself. Sakuro put the gun back under his shirt, held by the belt, and fully embraced her from the back, letting them sink to the floor, his body protectively, almost possessively wrapped around her, his monstrous strength keeping the weeping woman in place.

She kept screaming but to no avail.

Sakuro thanked the heavens at that moment that the Family was on a vacation by the seaside, where they had a place far away from the mainland of the beach, by the sea. A separate place where nobody would bother them, and a place where nobody would hear a gunshot and screams...

Her screams turned into hoarse cries, and the hoarse cries turned into hiccups.

Then

Silence...

Finally gathering the courage, he turned her face towards him, moving the stray hairs out of her beautiful face with one gloveless finger.

Completely clean and warm.

How absurd...

her eyes dulled, out of energy, her mind fogging between consciousness and the dreamland.

"It's ok, It's all over now, I'm here..." He said, his face warm, beautiful, soft mint now a shade of viridian under the moonlight that peaked through from the giant window of the door.

This was the Sakuro She knew, the one she fell in love with, she mused once again in her mind, her hand, drained, reached up to touch his bloodied cheek, her mind in a state of dilemma.

Was this a dream? a nightmare? it had to be.

She would wake up, she knew it, she just needed to close her eyes.

"Why...?" She asked, her voice hoarse. She felt like claws were scratching down her vocal cords, if she talked louder, she thought vaguely, she was sure they would snap.

"Because you are mine and mine only. I won't let anyone else have you, Because I Love You... and won't let even your family or god take you away from me if he came down." He smiled, gently kissing her forehead.

Then his face darkened "If you're not willing to be with me, even if I go to hell for my actions, I will hunt you down and take you down with me because there is no me without you, and I won't let anyone have you..

Because I Love You, More than you can ever imagine, my moonshine..." He said in a gentle voice, but Y/N could see, even at the state of passing out, that there was a darker intent.

Because I Love You, Huh...?

she saw his eyes, then the moon rising perfectly between the glass, illuminating where they sat,

Then...

Darknesss...

______________________________________

OMGOMGOMGOMG, MY FIRST YANDERE MINI-FIC!!!!!

EEEEEE!!!!

Enjoooyyyy <3

[mamamittens]

Heyy! Koala and i want to get a strawberry chunks (Me as a siren) shake with some caramel syrup. With sprinkles and a cherry on top please! Koala would like an Alice in Wonderland and a White Russian with that, and i'll get a green tea shot and a brain hemorrhage. with a red bean and vanilla mochi side treat. I'm Oleander, i use they/them pronouns (AMAB)! Tall, tan, and chubby with curly hair. I'm a very anxious person and shy. i stutter a lot but i try to be very friendly w/ everyone!

Hu-ZAH! It is done!

I am so sorry it took so long, lol.

Ah... some mild spooky vibes btw

Koala X OC (Oleander)

Warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, exophilia, creampie, overstimulation, and implied aphrodisiac via sound. (Mild dubcon vibes due to this) Oh! And implied murder!

Also, OC is yandere.

I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2,537

The countryside was peaceful in the fall. Amber leaves littering the road that were steadily trampled by caravans passing through. Koala had been gone for a few years at this point, learning a few trades in one of the big cities. Her apprenticeships had gone smoothly, and now she was fully qualified to restore the family home on her own.

It wasn’t the original dream her parents had for her, which involved marrying an affluent man to take care of her, but it was one Koala could live with. She always liked the idea of being independent anyway.

It was once a beautiful cabin home on the lakeside. Built from the forest itself in thick logs with several rooms. Decorated with hunting furs and traded goods. But then her parents died shortly before she came of age.

Drowned in the lake.

She was despondent and had to leave behind her family home—and her best friend.

Oleander was a siren who migrated along the waterways that happened to connect to the lake her family lived by. Their family came through the area twice a year and she always looked forward to it as a child. Most people were afraid of them, but Koala never saw a reason to. They were due to return to the area in a few weeks when her parents drowned.

Although she never got to say goodbye, Koala knew that if they’d been there, her parents would still be alive. Oleander would never have let something happen to her family.

Still, that was a long time ago now. And she knew that her old home was in a terrible state. Somehow, though, it was worse than she thought and better.

It was still standing for starters. That was good. But several windows were smashed and a few doors were nearly fallen off the hinges. Partially rotted wood creaked ominously under her feet as she walked onto the porch. It smelled of the woods and the lake. Decay and new growth intertwined to overtake any lingering scent her family had left behind.

If she had to guess, the local wildlife tried to pilfer the home. It probably housed them during the winter too. But, for whatever reason, they were long gone now.

Huffing, Koala got to work taking apart the damaged sections. Taking notes on what needed to be replaced and what could be fixed with a few supplies. At the very least, the windows and doors needed to be fixed up. Glass wasn’t something she could make though, so she’d have to either scrounge up money or things to trade. Maybe a few traps for furs?

For now though, she boarded up the windows. It was better than nothing.

She worked for a week until her home was suitable for living again. Barely. She still needed to repair a few more things before moving onto making a new boat. Her father fished quite a bit to help the family get by when she was young alongside trapping. It would be… nice to pick that up again.

Still, after that she would be free to decorate her old home as she wished. She already had half a mind to expand the household for storing wood and drying out meats safely. She could hardly depend on someone to guard her spoils all the way out here after all.

After all that hard work, Koala had no issue falling asleep in her old bedroom, door propped into place until she could get new hinges.

Staying asleep was a different matter.

It started low. Her dream hazy like fog around her as the sound pierced the night, silencing the insects. A low coo, rising and falling alongside the wind rattling the brittle leaves of the forest. Mournful, almost. But sweet and longing.

It was so soothing and familiar that Koala had trouble opening her eyes. The sound merely growing louder and louder as her mind faded. Thoughts scattering like the water breaking on the lake’s shore.

There was danger.

She was safe.

So much danger. She needed to run.

She didn’t have any reason to get up.

Not when wet feet slapped onto the porch.

They’d be here soon.

Not when the wooden door ground against the floor as it was dragged open.

Run. Run. Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun—

Koala only knew her door had been lifted out of the way by the scent of lake water wafting into her room.

Then the voice stopped. The air was dead and Koala gasped awake, eyes shooting open as she bolted awake.

The moonlight scattered over her floor at the tan feet of the stranger. They were tall and mostly bare with a soft frame. Dripping wet with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Curly hair clinging to their face as they smiled. Practically beaming at her.

“K-Koala?” They asked softly, their voice warm and familiar.

Instantly, all her anxiety was gone.

“Ollie!” Koala jumped up, ignoring the fact that she was in her nightgown, and embraced her very wet friend. “Ollie, you’re here! You can walk?!” Koala laughed, noting the familiar musk beneath the scent of lake water. Vaguely smokey and spicy.

They carefully wrapped their arms around her, nuzzling into her hair.

“K-Koala, you came back~!” Oleander sang softly, their voice resonating with a soft allure that sent a shiver down her spine.

Toolatetoolatetoolatetoolate—

“I’m back.” Koala agreed happily. They’d grown a fair bit taller than she ever expected, but they were still the same Oleander she remembered. Even their face still held that soft, roundness she enjoyed teasing them with by squishing their cheeks in her palms. It was reassuring to see it, actually. She’d always worried that Oleander would have trouble finding food when they were away. But they’d always been a very good hunter in the water. “But how are you… standing?” Koala asked, pulling back to look up at them.

That was a bit new.

They flushed, laughing nervously. It was cute that they still stuttered despite swearing they’d grow out of it.

“It—it’s a skill we learn. I’m n-not very good at it—but I watched over your house! I-I was hoping you’d come back one d-day!” Oleander proclaimed with a bright smile even in the dim moonlight. “Here to st-stay?” they asked, still holding her close.

“Yeah. My apprenticeships took a while but now I can repair almost anything here and live on my own… I’m sorry I left, Ollie.” Koala whispered, pressing her head to their chest. They tugged her closer, her clothes growing damp from the contact. “I…I couldn’t stay.”

“It’s o-okay—you’re here now.” Oleander purred, petting her hair. “D-Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” Koala responded without meaning to.

Oleander clicked their tongue with a soft whistle like a dolphin. Tugging her nightdress.

“M-Missed you too… w-wanted to hold you close. Love you so much.” Oleander sighed and her heart thundered in her chest. She laughed nervously.

“Love you too, Ollie. You’re my best friend.”

Oleander huffed, pushing her back towards her bed.

“You’re my b-best everything. W-Want to show you. Can I show you?” Oleander hummed, the sound carrying in the small space. The night eerily still.

Too late—

Koala had loved Oleander since they were children. Watching them flit through the mucky shore of the lake spooking minnows to her delight. She’d always known they were different.

Always known they were dangerous.

She’d never really dreamed of being with anyone else, despite her parent’s desire to see her marry well.

“Oleander.” Koala spoke and they froze mid-stride instantly, looking down at her with wide, frightened eyes. She couldn’t help but smile despite her nerves. Still such a scared guppy… “What do you mean? Do you… do you mean like…” Koala asked but fumbled with her words, tongue dry and useless. Her hands twisting as she tried to figure out how to phrase it.

Gently, Oleander grabbed her wrist and pulled it lower. Slipping her palm between their thighs to the fabric of their covering. Pressing her hand over a distinctly warm, firm bulge. Her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers curled around the shape but struggled to properly grasp, the weight heavy in a way that made her stomach ache.

Oleander leaned down, still holding her hand over their cock. Lips brushing her ear.

“Let me show you?” Oleander purred, grinding against her palm. Her mouth was dry but the heat only grew between her own thighs.

“Y-Yes.” Koala stuttered for once and a hot tongue slipped up her neck. They moved slowly, fucking against her hand as they walked her back to her bed. Leaning her against the mattress as they kissed her bared skin. Fondling her nightdress with deep breaths against her skin. She ended up grabbing her blanket in tight fistfuls, embarrassed how quickly her panties grew damp enough to notice.

They settled their hands over her calves, encouraging her to scoot up the bed to make room. Hot palms gliding up her skin and brushing her nightdress up her thighs until they reached her panties. Oleander looked infatuated, panting openly like they wanted to take a bite of her thighs. Thumbs slipping into the crease between her thighs, running along the seam to lift away the crotch of her panties.

The fabric made a soft, wet pop against her cunt when they slipped their thumbs free.

“W-Wanted for so long—I shouldn’t keep you waiting~” Oleander purred, gently pulling down her panties as she wriggled to free herself of her nightgown. “W-Wish it was in the water, but it’s so cold right now for your pretty body. Summer.” They declared decisively.

Koala couldn’t help but imagine it. Floating in the lake with her arms around their shoulders. Tail curling around her thighs to hold her still, trailing into the water below to keep them afloat as she whined across the surface. Cock burning inside her—

Koala moaned, feeling Oleander rub their thumb over her wet clit in slow, teasing circles. Sliding between her thighs to position themselves properly, tip slipping against her cunt. They felt so big, their cock thick enough to brush her thighs with slow thrust. Parting her open with an air of inevitability that left her breathless. Oleander, sweet Oleander, towered over her. Eyes flickering between her face and body like they couldn’t decide which was the more appealing view.

“O-Ooolie~” Koala sighed, shuddering as she noticed they were humming, almost crooning. The sound vibrating her skin that was already becoming incredibly sensitive to every pant of air and brush of skin. They leaned down, letting their tongue drag up her chest in a slow, savoring motion. Flicking over her breast before deliberately blowing across the wet trail. “A-Ahhhhhn~!” Koala moaned, soaking their cock nestled against the opening of her cunt.

“Yesssssss~” There was a pressure against her quivering pussy, the tip of their cock grinding lightly inward. Teasing her open in slow rolls as their thumb kept circling her clit. Lips brushing her stiff nipples as the soft coo sank into her body. Koala gasped, jerking when they slipped in. Her body fixated on the hot stretch as the head teased her cunt.

Slipping in the barest amount before pulling away till they threatened to pop free. Each time coming back in a little more. Koala panted, gasping for air as she tried to squirm, but Oleander pinned her to the mattress with one hand. Leaving her legs to dig into the sheets. She arched as best as she could as she cried out, their cock digging into her walls and instantly making her collapse with another orgasm.

Words failed her as she stared up at Oleander with wide, teary eyes.

But they kept going like she wasn’t falling apart from just the tip. Grinning down at her while they drooled over her tits, kissing her damp skin soothingly. Hazily, Koala blamed that damn sound. There was no way she’d be so effected otherwise, no matter how thick their cock was.

And it was thick. Her walls aching with every quiver of movement around their girth that invaded and retreated in teasingly slow motions. The sound growing more prominent as Oleander collected more slick along their cock. And Koala was trapped between heaven and hell, creaming increasingly often as her awareness circled her cunt.

How wet she was making them. The way her cum dripping into the sheets down her ass and along her thighs. Smearing with every slow roll of their hips against hers.

How hot she was beneath them. Fire in her blood and aching cunt with every uncountable inch.  And somehow their cock was just as hot in a way that was almost soothing if it wasn’t also the source of her torment.

How loud she was for them. Keening breathlessly with every orgasm. Whining with increasing incoherence as they grew closer to hilting. Crying and trembling beneath the rolling croon that seemed to be just loud enough to vibrate her skin.

And Oleander just seemed to be getting closer. Face pressing deeper into her breasts. Hips falling deeper into her thighs. Like they intended to smother her beneath them.

Feverishly, Koala remembered the promise about summer. Her overtaxed body trembling as she imagined being slowly, lovingly pressed into the muddy shore. Cool water would be a balm against her cunt as Oleander worked themselves deeper. Tip dragging against her walls until she wondered if they’d be able to fit at all.

And then Oleander stopped, lips brushing hers gently as they both panted. Koala in a state of shock as she realized why.

Their cock was hilted in her drooling cunt, spreading open her walls and pressing against her cervix. It felt wonderful, the vibration in her skin traveling deeper as they cooed into her lips. Her cunt shuddered and Oleander ground into her.

She wailed but her voice was caught by their tongue with a groan. Moaning louder than she ever did as something hot burst inside of her. Spilling out her aching cunt. But Oleander wasn’t idle.

They pulled out slowly, Koala crying out in denial as they kept moaning. Then, just as horrifically slowly, they pressed back in. Koala weeping as her cunt was pried back open. Cum squeezing out in thick, violent spurts as she came again.

“—Mmm—a-a-a-ahh~! Ah-ooooh~! Oh-O-Ollie-eeee~!” Koala screamed out when they pulled away from her lips, gasping for air desperately. She couldn’t discern anything but the euphoric vibration of Oleander’s lips against her skin and their cock slowly splitting her open.

Harder?

Faster?

Koala didn’t know.

Only that she might actually die if they didn’t stop—

She might die if they did.

“Stay~ Mine~” Oleander cooed, slipping their hand over her stomach as they hilted. The pressure making her wail as they admired the bulge where their tip pressed as deep as it could go. “Always.”

“YES! Y-YEESSS~ O-OLLIE—OOOooooh~! YES!” Koala screamed again, receiving a soft kiss as their tongue slipped in to muffle her cries. Crying openly as the hum traveled down her throat. Her skin burning hot despite Oleander doing their best to dampen the fire with a gentle roll of their hips.

It just wasn’t enough. Koala feared it never would be.

[the-whispers-of-death]

butcher's telling me that he can and will make dominic quit his job on the ranch if stone keeps being a bitch to his workers. he'll unionize them if he has to cuz. yikes

but still, he aint giving two shits about stone himself. he looks at him, looks at sylvester, pulls him away from everyone and is just like "hey. uhm, quick question: why??? why him??? hes worse than my *boss*!" and like. SIR. your boss has a stepson he doesnt even know about and and a whole ass failed marriage. so stone is maybe only half as bad /j

unfortunately for him, over a few visits, laila does start to grow on him, so i hope she doesnt mind the rough housing ((its all gentle though. he doesnt actually wanna cause any harm, but his only frame of reference for how durable teens are is charlie, and he can take a hit really well. so. laila beware))

for some reason he just slipped sylvester and the girls his number and said "hey, if you need me for *any* reason, you better fucking call, got it?" while side-eyeing stone. for some reason he thinks there will be a point in time where stone will either fuck something up, or where they'll need to hide a body

((... scientist!sylvester is twirling his hair at butcher and kicking his feet in bed and giggling and. sir. get out you already have criminal!stone,, go away man i dont nees this level of inter-au relationships w ocs))

oh and speaking of the girls, hes decided he likes them. he thinks theyre strong and capable. if stone hasnt already, he shows them all how to properly uee and take care of guns. and. well. lets just say that they might also find a spare pistol or two that he left in each of their rooms. theres just a note that says "dont tell the big guy",,

well shucks. hes now close to considering (half of) the ranch inhabitats as his family and. he borderline wants to convince sylvester to ditch stone on the basis of "his vibes are awful and rancid. i aint saying that i could be better than him, i couldnt, but cmon."

i do love how bringing him to the ranch au was probably meant to be cute and wholesome and hes just there, horrified and concerned

No, I knew Butcher and Stone would butt heads. I just love the chaoticness of it all.

It's okay, no need to unionize the ranch workers. Stone is now in his era of not overworking his employees, he's just overworking himself. If you see him pass out in the middle of taking care of the horses, no you don't.

Laila is used to roughhousing, as much as her honorary uncles and aunts try to be gentle with her, they were in the military and used to not being gentle. So don't worry, Butcher, she can handle it!

Akhil read Butcher giving Sylvester and the girls his phone number in case of anything and is like "Uhh, what about me? I live here too." It's okay, Akhil, I did start this whole scenario with saying that Heartthrob wasn't here yet because it was back when Dominic was being overworked. I'll add you into this AU again, Akhil.

Laila 100% knows how to properly use and take care of guns, because of course she does. While Stone isn't taking her out to fire a gun like how his father did with him, he did think she needed to know at least a little bit about guns. Still, he's going to have a conniption about the girls being given pistols by Butcher.

Stone is regularly ranting to Kali about how Butcher keeps trying to get Sylvester to ditch him. It's very annoying to Stone and it also makes his fear of being abandoned again kick in once more.

Oh, oh no. Stone angst is coming if Butcher keeps trying to get Sylvester to ditch his husband.

[styxnbones]

(gehenna-calling) 3&26 for cass, 21&35 for kellen, 4&21 for leora, and 1 for all of them!

Cass:

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most? answered here!

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon? butterfly knife, though they're pretty handy with all kinds of knives, they chose it specifically for the intimidation factor- idly flipping your knife around while waiting for your contact to approach makes you look pretty cool (and also its just fun)

26. how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids? they've got a solid 2 dots in dexterity, so they aren't clumsy by any means and w another two dots in stealth and some obfuscate they can be pretty light on their feet. they also don't tend to move without purpose- she's not the sort to pace a room or mindlessly wander about. i also imagine they subconsciously match their stride length to whoever they're walking with, out of habit from years of tailing people.

Kellen:

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most? deep reds/burgundy and deep blues are what i mostly associate them with, as those tend to be the accent colors they go for in a wardrobe of lots of bright neutrals.

21. their favorite place to be? at the museum, hands down. that's Their Hoard! (even if it's technically Bernadette's, she's given them full permission to think of it as an extension of their own collection) they love the feeling of being surrounded by such rich history and vast knowledge, it's like a total escape- frozen in time and insulated from the frantic scramble of the world outside.

35. do they ever return home? far more often than they should. their sire still holds a blood bond over their father, and continues to actively cleave off their family- and since Kel was embraced instead of their terminally ill mother, they feel responsible for both her death, and the subsequent involvement of their father's new wife and her children in the shitshow that is their family. so they go back pretty often, they try to have as much of a presence in the house as they can, build up relationships with their new family members, and attempt to subtly work against their sire's manipulations, and protect them from him as much as they can. their younger brother also still lives at home, and he's the one they really worry about. even though they have tried again and again to explain to him what's happening and to get out, their sire just keeps wiping his mind so every time they see him he just seems more depressed and resigned than before, which only adds to their frustration/guilt. all in all its an uphill battle and a massive emotional drain that they would be vastly better off to just drop all together, but these things are never that simple. so they keep going back.

Leora:

1.are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most? gold/yellow, and she mostly wears that as accents to pristine whites. (another instance of me visually coding a character as a terrible person by making them wear white)

4. how crafty/resourceful are they? quite a bit, i'd say. she certainly knows how to make the best of a bad situation. she's by far the most dangerous when she's underestimated, and as an actor by profession that's a perception that's easy for her to instill- whether it's the 'dumb blonde' act, or taking advantage of peoples assumptions about caitiff and thin-bloods, she's always ready to pull something out of her sleeve to turn the tables that no one would have thought possible

21. their favorite place to be? on the stage baybeee! what the bard said certainly rings true, since she's happiest wherever she's performing and these nights that seems to be 24/7 everywhere she goes. she's been dead nearly a hundred years, but (crises of faith notwithstanding) nothing has managed to kill her joie de vivre.

[frecht]

the more i look at book posts on instagram the more annoyed i get at this definition of new adult as ya fantasy with sex jesus christ. like one person was in the comments of a post asking for na fantasy recs and someone else was like "depends on your spice level" like that is literally not the point of new adult as a category anyway but it isn't just fantasy erotica-lite like is that the only reason you're reading them?? i agree that there shouldn't be explicit sex in ya bc the characters are all underage but i don't think that ya with sex is a good definition for new adult and it makes me mad when people use it that way

[dirty-grunge]

``Metal Hearts``

Arthur Note: Hello! To those of you who celebrate Christmas I wish you a merry one, this chapter is something I’ve been thinking about doing for quite some time! Also, with Christmas in just a few days, I may be slower to post chapters or miss a day or two entirely; due to obvious reasons, family and friends and etc! Hope you guys enjoy this one! Slight spoilers so beware!

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Chapter 4.

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Awaking the following morning in a totally different room was quite shocking, it was neater, cleaner, almost as if freshly built. The air was clean, and hinted bitterness of drying paint, a beautiful vanity tucked away in the corner of the room, its lights shining brightly.

Not only did your surroundings seem different, you felt different. There seemed to be more life within you, each step you took around the room over the crisp carpet were filled with energy you’d never harnessed before. The only remembrance of last night was fixing Freddy up and walking down into the bot chambers where your station resided, slipping into the cold room to rest on the charging station you’d been assigned to since your creation. You’d never awoken in such a lively room as this one, walls brightly colored, even your face strewed on one of them. A vast curtain slung over a large window that pointed out towards the hallway you were familiar with.

``Where...am I?`` You muttered lowly, casting your eyes across the room once more, soaking up your new surroundings.

Creeping your way towards the vanity, you basked in its light. It wasn’t horribly blinding, but a nice dim light that you could easily stand near without fanning your eyes in dismay. Your eyes caught the mirror, causing you to step forward a bit more to have a better look at it.

``What-?`` You yelped, jumping back lightly. You couldn’t even recognize yourself, your usually duller colors replaced with much brighter ones; patterns marked across your face and neater fur that carried more volume to it than before.

`What have they done to me...` Your mind raced, stepping back and looking over yourself. You seemed more appeasing to the eye, your figure made somewhat more feminine though it still carried that animalistic look, and the colors printed on your screamed for attention. 

You ran a paw over your face, stepping away from the vanity to seat yourself on a couch placed nearby. You sighed, looking down at your clawed feet.  

A sudden knock on your door startled you, ears shooting up from their drooped state and your eyes flicking towards the noise. 

``(Y/N) come to the main stage when you’re done in here.`` A voice stated, the feminine ring to it signaling it as Vanessa; a night guard and daily worker you were familiar with.

You heard her footsteps fade as she walked away, leaving you once again a victim to your thoughts.

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You’d always seen the main stage from a respectable distance, always too worried of getting in the way or being a distraction for the band when they decided to practice. Never had you actually been invited to set foot on it before, to say the least it was a bit overwhelming. 

But with the welcoming gaze of Freddy and Chica by his side ushering you up so excitedly; it made things easier to tackle. Ascending the steps to the platform your gaze landed on Vanessa, who waved you over. 

``Alright, so we’ve obviously made some...changes.`` She began.

``(Y/N) you will now be the Host of the concert, it’s basically just you coming on-stage before the show and welcoming everyone and announcing the appearance of the band.`` Her hand lifted from her side to array across the four animatronics who stood. Monty hadn’t stopped staring at you since you arrived, you found it hard to tell if it was just how he usually acted, or if he was upset someone was being added to the spotlight. Thankfully, Roxanne seemed neutral about all this, her gaze casted down to her paws as she inspected her claws closely.

``Since Bonnie is out of commission, for who knows how long. You’ll help get the childrens mind off his sudden disappearance.`` Though her words were spoken with such casualty, you couldn’t help but notice Freddys demeanor change for a split second, Chica reaching behind him to give him a firm pat on his back seemed to boot him up again to his cheerful stance. 

You took a moment to understand the very sudden changes, they changed you up with a new model and overall appearance to make you more bright and cheerful; and on-top of that they decided to change your job, you would no longer repair things or guide guests, but instead host the concerts as their personal hype man? 

``Erm, apologies, my system is having issues processing this smoothly.`` You sighed, lifting a paw to your face.

``Tonight they’ll make final changes so you’re better programed to do this job.`` Vanessa gave you a sympathetic smile, ``I know change is hard, but it happens.`` She shrugged, leaning down to grab a notepad she seemed to be writing on. 

``My breaks in twenty, I’ll talk to you guys later.`` She nodded to you and the rest of the group, before turning and hopping down the stairs.

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Working with the band was nice, especially after they hard-wired gods know what into you, which helped your progression from such a low needed job to one that required full-time work. You signed stuff for children, while parents sat and waited; they even made small plushies of you. Which warmed your heart. You’d never felt so welcomed and loved before you became the host, you were needed, and wanted. You were important.

After a rather lengthy show, you and the members lazed around in a small break room. Chica scooted up next to you and gawked on about the children, she seemed so curious about them. 

``Their little hands! Ah! Love them.`` She giggled, shoving a drawing in your face one of them had drawn of her.

``This is going on my wall!`` She jumped up, the couch you shared yanking with her sudden movement.

You rolled your eyes, watching her bolt out the doors. Monty sat across from you, a small coffee table the only thing between you. His eyes were always lingering on you, but you learned after the few weeks of working with him he was just like that, he spoke little to you if he didn’t need to. It became a mutual relationship where you’d only cast `goodlucks` before shows and `goodnights` when the lights switched off after a long day.

Freddy groaned, his head banging the couch behind him as he threw it back; this earning a puzzled yet annoyed look from Monty and Roxanne. 

``The hells wrong with you.`` Monty mumbled, before turning his gaze back over to the TV placed in the corner of the room.

``I’m just bummed the shows over.`` Freddy sighed, shooting up from his seat.

``I also need to recharge before the meetup with the children.`` He added, his eyes glancing down to you. ``Would you like to come? You may need one too.``

``Yeah, with all the yelling she does.`` Monty snorted, earning a glare from you and a bark

 of laughter from Roxanne. 

``Sure!`` You nodded lightly, standing up and stretching your body dramatically, feeling your bolts and screws click into place.

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It was always nice hanging out with Freddy, he was one to talk his head off, but when it was just you two; he seemed content with the comfortable silence.

``How are you enjoying it? Your new job that is.`` He spoke, eyes casting over to you as you walked beside him.

``Hm, well it was a learning curve. But I like it, hanging out with you guys has made my...well, whole existence more enjoyable.`` You laughed lightly, looking away from his warm gaze, finding it overwhelming to look him in the eyes.

``Well that’s nice, I enjoy having you around more...you’re easy to talk to.`` He smiled, tilting his head to look down at you. You felt his gaze on you, causing an ear to twitch with the sudden feeling.

``Hm, well here we are.`` He nodded towards the station, two aligned next to each other. Their bright colors making them obvious, easier to spot.

``Alright, I’ll re-charge and head up to my room.`` You smiled sweetly, tilting your head at him. He nodded, lifting a paw to finick with his ear. 

``Do you mind if we, do this often...?`` He lifted his hands defensively, ``N-Not like re-charge or anything, but walk together...is what I mean.`` The bear smiled lightly, looking anywhere but your direction.

``Of course, Freddy. I’d like that a lot.`` You smiled.

You both spoke for a while, talking about the show, your friends, and anything that came to mind; until you were both forced to retreat into the stations for a recharge your systems begged you to do. It was nice, speaking with him so causally, nothing felt forced when you were together.

Is this what friendship was like? Or was there something more you both were afraid to admit to yourselves, and well..

Each other?

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Hope you all enjoyed! Also, let me know who would like to be on my tag-list! I will be doing them this day forward! <3 

[nightowlfandom]

Yuma Mukami- Scream For Me

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE

SO ANON ASKS

If you’re prompts are still a go can I get a Yuma Mukami from DL and reader with the prompts

37- “Am I making you nervous, Y/N?

17- “We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world.”

39- "Just admit you want fuck me…if you behave, I might just let you.”

28- “I’m more than capable of being rough with you babe. You just watch.”

32- “Shh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us, now would you?”

And the reader is still pretty new to the Mukami mansion, and is Lowkey terrified of Yuma because he’s so big and loud and ANGRY sounding but she also like has a thing for him? She’s also quite smaller than he is because he’s so tall and broad

That’s a lot BUT LET’S FUCKING GO YESSSSS

Babygirl.....it’s on. ALSO IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE.

Leggo!

...

Was hiding really the way to go? Absolutely! You were in a constant state of alert in this place. You had only been here less than two weeks and you were honestly over it already. 

You had gotten lost so many times, you began to wonder if you lived in a maze that changed with every turn. It wouldn’t surprise you to be honest.

Of all the people that could have been forced into this world without choice, it was you. Thanks to your mother and her debts. You could just remember her words.

It’s for our family, honey...

Selling you out to strangers, nice. 

You missed your other friends, you missed Yui (God only knows how much shit she’s going through without you to back her up. Every day you would go over there to make sure she was still alive. There was hell to pay if you saw so much as a scratch on her.)

You had found yourself in a seemingly abandoned bedroom.

“Finally away from those freaks.” you grumbled, sliding down the door. “This is what I’ve been reduced to, hiding.” you griped. You could still hear the commotion, the smashing of glass and the arguing of men over who would get to bite you first. It suddenly got quiet, too quiet. It felt like the air was getting stiff. You felt eyes on you...you were being watched, but by who.

“Someone’s in here.” you concluded.

Before you could scramble to your feet and leave, you were stopped.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, not unless you want to get ambushed.”

Yuma Emerged from a dark corner, toying with a hair tie. You watched in silence as he secured his hair back. He swaggered over to you, gently resting his hand against the door, trapping you between it and himself. “Any reason you’re in my room?”

You were taken aback, he seemed quite calm and reserved unlike the rambunctious and loud asshole you saw before. That wasn’t good. If anything this side of him made you even more afraid.

.”I said what are you doing in my room!” he demanded, slamming his fist on the door. That alone was enough to make you flinch and turned your head away.

“I got lost!” you replied as loudly as you could, not even close to matching his tone. You sounded scared and pathetic...mostly because you were. “Please don’t punish me like RukI!” 

You had looked him in the eye...once. Big mistake.

“Please, like I’d waste my time.” he sneered. “You’re really that frightened of my brothers?”

You shamefully nodded your head, not trusting your voice. 

“Fine, stay as long as you want.” he huffed, stepping away from you.

“Huh?” you found your voice. “Really?!” you sounded a bit too happy.

“Are you that excited to be here with me?” he tilted his head to the side, a strange smile spreading across his face. “Y/N....it’s Y/N, right?” 

“Y-yes?” it came out like a question instead of an actual answer. 

“I figured. Just thought I put a name to the face that watches me so often.” he winked. “Do you like me or something?”

Shit! He knew?

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? " he asked, still smiling devilishly. “It’s adorable.” 

Yuma made you look up at him, slipping his fingers under your chin.

“I think your little crush on me is funny.”

“Funny?” you repeated, feeling shocked. Wow, were you that pathetic? “Good to know.” you grumbled.

“What did you say?” he glowered, glaring down at you.

“I know you think I’m just a weak human...but I have feelings.” you moped, starting to turn around. “I’ll just leave.”

“Are you gonna wait for me to finish?” he snapped, just as your hand hit the doorknob.

Defeated, you lowered your hand and turned back around. 

“I like messing with you, Am I making you nervous Y/N?”

As you stayed silent, he burst out laughing. 

Yuma thought you were adorable, adorable and slightly wimpy. You were much more fun to torment than the other one...whatever her name was. Yuki? Yuna? Jennifer? Who cared?

“Since you have to do what we say, you’re gonna spend the night with me.”

Shit....

...

You crawled onto your side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible. You didn't want to risk anything. You were scared to death. 

“We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world.” You saw Yuma yank his shirt over his head, revealing all his glory. “I mean, it could be with me.” he winked. You hadn’t even changed clothes, you were in the same dress you wore that day.

You instantly turned on your other side, not wanting him to see your face. You turned away from him. He was so godly it was wrong. You felt the bed dip down.

It was silent for a few minutes, you had almost relaxed a bit. Keyword: Almost. You felt his fingers creep up your thigh. 

His low breathy laughter caught your attention.

“You’re so cute.” you heard him whisper. “I think I’ll keep you.” his lips ghosted over your ear.

You bit down on your lip to stop from moaning. You felt his tongue trace the shell of your ear, his hot breath tickling you. His fingers kept inching and inching closer to that spot between your legs. “ Just admit you want fuck me…if you behave, I might just let you. “

You choked on your own breath as he lashed his tongue around your ear, moaning to add insult to injury. 

Then you did it. You moaned ever so quietly, but he could sure as hell hear it. Yuma slapped a hand over your mouth right before he pushed you on your back. He used his other hand to pry your legs apart. “Look at that, all fucking wet for me....what if I just?” He bought his fingers to his mouth and spit on his fingers. Your eyes widened in anticipation as he bought his hand into the waistband of your panties. You felt his wet fingers slip inside. 

You let out another moan, this time louder. 

“ Shh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us, now would you?” He shushed you. “Listen to that.” he reveled in the lewd sounds your body made for him. “Listen to that~” he snarled as he thrust his fingers deeper. “Fuck.” he watched you tremble under him. You moaned into his hand, practically drooling. Your insides clenched around his fingers. “You like being defiled by me, don’t you? You’re making a fucking mess, nasty slut.”

You watched through hooded eyes and Yuma finger fucked you. He stared down at his hand doing the deed, mouth again with his tongue hanging out. It was almost like he was receiving pleasure of his own through bullying you in such a lewd way. You were moaning into his hand, completely unaware of your volume. Anyone who could way by would absolutely hear.

Yuma took his hand from your mouth and grabbed your right leg. He tore his fingers from your and lifted your leg up, running his tongue along your calf before burying his fangs into your scorching hot skin. You gasped at the pain. 

“Fuck.” he lapped up your blood. He drove his fangs even deeper into the exact same place. Yuma’s brothers would be pissed off when they learned that they wouldn’t have been the firsts to bite you.

Yuma stared down at you, looking absolutely feral. Blood smeared across his cheek. He smiled evilly.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you dumbly asked. “You’re not gonna be rough are you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m gonna be more than rough, human.  I’m more than capable of being rough with you babe. You just watch. I’m gonna fucking destroy you until you can’t go anywhere without being carried there by me.“