#but then there's the depression and anxiety

[theavidindoorswoman]

“How are you?” is such a weirdly invasive question. Like, damn sir, we just met.

i hate when people ask how i’m doing like.. horrible. next question

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Medicinal Herbs

10 plants for your character's medicinal herb garden

PLANT — When to Plant — Conditions & Care — Medicinal Uses

ALOE VERA — spring/autumn — sunny site indoors; pot up as needed; do not overwater — fresh plant gel for minor burns and wounds

CALENDULA — spring/autumn — well-drained soil; full sun; remove dead flower heads — cream for cuts, scrapes, inflamed skin; infusion for fungal infections

COMFREY — spring/autumn — warm sunny site; moist soil — ointment or poultice for sprains and bruises (use the leaf only)

FEVERFEW — autumn/spring — well-drained or dry, stony soil in sun — fresh leaf or tincture for headaches and migraines

LEMON BALM — spring/autumn — moist soil in sun; cut back after flowering — infusion for anxiety, poor sleep, and nervous indigestion; lotion for cold sores

PEPPERMINT — spring/autumn — sunny but moist site; do not allow to dry out — infusion for indigestion and headaches; lotion for itchy skin

ROSEMARY — spring/autumn — sunny sheltered site; protect with burlap in winter — infusion as a stimulating nerve tonic and to aid weak digestion

SAGE — autumn/spring — well-drained or dry, sunny, sheltered site — infusion for sore throats, mouth ulcers, and diarrhea

ST. JOHN'S WORT — spring/autumn — well-drained to dry soil with sun or partial shade — tincture for depression and menopause; infused oil is antiseptic and heals wounds

THYME — spring/summer — well-drained soil, may need a layer of gravel; sunny site — infusion for coughs, colds, and chest infections; lotion for fungal infections

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References

[citricacidprince]

I’ve been projecting into these two since I was 10 and shall continue to self project until I’m dead 💥

[blog-by-kij]

I love the Inside Out films because in the first one, Joy—among other characteristics—is a huge arrogant, controlling, and self-centered ass and in the second one she’s a less arrogant, controlling, and self-centered ass BUT that’s the point! That’s great! They didn’t make her suddenly not any of those things in the second one, which is good because that would be a bizarre and bad character rewrite. What would she be if she’s not those things? She’s still those things but understands how to better use those characteristics to serve Riley the person, rather than her idea of what Riley should be. This is her whole entire job, and she does it well. Nothing wrong with being proud of a job well done.

BUT, when she doesn’t understand how the other emotions are necessary too, she ends up suppressing Sadness or attempting to curate Riley to make her happy, in a softer way than Anxiety did but still to the same effect—controlling and restricting Riley’s full experiences at the expense of Riley. She became not controlling of other emotions by the second film but turned out to still be a little bit controlling of Riley in that one. But by that time, she already had the experience of learning that she could be wrong and was therefore more open to the idea that she could be doing something wrong again. Joy will do literally anything to make Riley happy, and that includes—most importantly—growing as a character, reflecting on her actions, changing behaviors, and learning how the other emotions do in fact ultimately make Riley a happier and better person.

Another thing I like is that she wasn’t mad at Anxiety, she didn’t punish Anxiety or suppress her, because she learned from Sadness that all emotions have a valuable purpose for Riley and she didn’t ever need to be reminded of that. In real life, when does being mad at or punishing your anxiety or sadness or anything help? And then in the end, Anxiety drinks her tea on her special chair, suggesting that Joy and the others made a space where Anxiety could be close and a part of it all in a way that serves Riley best. They made a way to respect the function that Anxiety has without ignoring her or letting her have excessive control over Riley. Not exerting excessive control over Riley is a lesson that Joy learned alongside Anxiety, and perhaps couldn’t be learned from anyone other than Anxiety.

Joy has to be the one that the story is told through because she has to be the one to learn and grow—and by the end of both films, she is a much stronger character for it all, and Riley is too. This makes perfect sense, because when you think about it, your capacity for joy is strengthened when you understand and value the legitimate role that sadness and anxiety play in your life.

[seasaltdevotion]

Shoutout to the Helpols with disabilities.

Those of us who have anxiety, depression, other mental disabilities and physical disabilities. You guys are absolutely fabulous.

Even with the pain and struggles you work through daily, you still find time to worship. And even on the days you can’t you’re still doing enough. The things you go through is awful some days and yet you guys are still so dedicated and you deserve so much rest and recognition.

The gods will never be mad at you for the days where you’re in so much pain mentally or physically that you can’t worship, or offer things at their altar. They’re proud of you for still being here and working through it all despite the pain it can bring sometimes.

Keep doing you, and remember to take breaks and rest when you need it.

Love you disabled Hellenic polytheists.

[unfortunate-beetle-and-friends]

My ESSA is called Pomegranate. She's my pangender pandemic panic panda - because I started getting far more frequent panic attacks in public during COVID. Only my partners are allowed to touch her.

So! I wanna talk about essas again because why not?

What even are essas?

Essa stands for Emotional Support Stuffed Animal! As a said before, they are plushies, any size or type, any animal, don't have to be dogs, that bring confort to the user. It can help with disorders such as anxiety, social anxiety, autism, adhd, ocd, panic disorders, and more! Or even loneliness.

They don't have rules, if they may halp them, you can have an ESSA!

They can have gear, like collars or harnesses, or not. You can use labels for people not to touch them or take them or not, is up to you!

How can ESSAs help?

Essas can help with anxiety attacks, meltdowns, panic attacks, social discomfort, grounding, and more! Bringing Ramen with me, for example, help me calm down, and petting him is so satisfying.

There's not a right or wrong way to use or have an ESSA. If it may help you just having it with you, then it's being used.

Where can I buy an ESSA?

Literally anywhere where a plushie is sold. Toy stores, essential items shops, dollar stores, online, etc.

I see a lot of people from the community buy the dogs on Douglass Cuddle Toys shops, but I feel like they are overrated. They don't have to be expensive either, I bought mibe for less than ten euros. I think he was seven.

Who can use ESSAs?

Like I said, literally anyone. Children, adults, teens, it doesn't matter. You don't have to be disabled either. Even if you don't have any disorders, you can use them. They are confort items, friends, or just tools. They are for anyone, and they can be for you.

My ESSA, Ramen, goes everywhere with me, and comforts me a lot. He's my friend, my best boy, and I love him

[chronicillnesshumor]

[ode-to-melpomene]

Control

Part 3 of 'Stray' Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader Synopsis: One bad idea snowballs out of control. Word Count: 2829 Warnings: Reader and Jason are both a little fucked up, allusions to depression and Jason's death, subtle size difference, negative self-talk from both parties, and a touch of angst.

Red Hood had to bend and scrape to get through your window. Had you not been in shock at the turn of events, you might have laughed at the sight of this broad, heavily armored man thrusting his arms in front of him and cocking his whole body at an angle to fit himself through your narrow window.

When his shoes touched down on the floor of your modest apartment he tracked snow in with him. Snow and slush, and despite knowing it would leave a mess on your old wooden floors you thought it looked like quite a pretty combination. You liked the grayish look of the rivulets that fell from his shoes as he stepped into the room.

Your heart beat faster when he finally stood to his full height. He rolled his shoulders and cocked his head from side to side, stretching the no-doubt sore muscles. He was broad and filled the entire space like the tiny interior was shaped around him. He hulked there like a wolf eyeing a rabbit. Were his jaws parted in hunger and salivating beneath his helmet?

He finally moved, one hand fiddling with the fingertips of his other glove. His shoulders slackened, curling in on himself slightly.

Your cheeks warmed as you snapped your attention away from him. This was definitely a mistake. This man was a known murderer and, from what you had heard from your associates in Crime Alley, was steadily building his own criminal network within the city. This was a horrible idea.

But you were lonely.

When was the last time you’d had company over? When was the last time you had spent more than a night in this apartment?

Jason observed you carefully from where he stood beside the window, watching you flit away from him. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth and turned your back to him, hiding that doe-eyed gaze. With your head on a swivel, you paced around your dimly lit apartment with a twitchy awkwardness that betrayed the discomfort you were trying to hide.

The apartment was messy. Jason felt less bad about dripping slush onto your wood floors when he saw the stack of dishes piled in your sink, the unopened letters and bills on the folding table in the middle of the room, and the basket of unfolded laundry on your orange couch. His brows furrowed beneath his helmet as he scanned the room from his position beside the window.

Like a moth to a flame, his piercing stare dragged back to you. You stood in the center of your kitchen watching him with that familiar nervous, flighty expression you maintained while meandering the twisting back streets of Crime Alley. Was it that same anxiety that got him caught by you weeks ago?

You held out a beckoning hand to him. Jason’s heart thudded in his chest.

You watched Red Hood, your own heart pounding as you stared at the unmoving figure shrouded in darkness. Backlit by moonlight. Blanketing the devil with a halo.

“The dishes?” you asked, your voice barely above a squeak. The man twitched as if your timidity spooked him. Red Hood lifted the dishes to his chest and stepped across your apartment in a few long strides. You flinched when he lurched to a stop in front of you, his movements clunky and intimidating. He didn’t move like a lithe panther like he had on the rooftop the first night you saw him–no, he moved like a teenager relearning his body after a growth spurt. All sharp angles and quick movements.

You avoided touching him as you took the glass baking dish and plate from his gloved hands and set it on the counter.

“Um,” you start, with no particular thought in mind as you skitter towards the fridge. You hear the sound of fabric shuffling and look over your shoulder to see his head cocked to the side slightly. He’s so close now, practically barricading you in your own kitchen. The apartment was so small, he could probably lash out and grab you before you had a chance to run away. A fox in a rabbit’s den.

How strong was he? If he were angry, could you throw you across the room? Would he even need his gun to kill you, or could he clasp his hands around your throat and squeeze? How much biting, scratching, and kicking would it take to get him off you?

If he pinned you down, would you even try to fight back?

You flushed as warmth spread through your traitorous body. Your shoulders trembled as you stood in front of the open fridge, filled to the brim with Tupperware and leftovers.

“I… do you like chicken parmesan?” you asked, your voice cracking. Your question is met with silence.

When you look over your shoulder you find the Red Hood looming in the corner of your kitchen, staring down at a picture frame. You liked the frame–silver, with pretty flower details at the corners that reminded you of spring in a place you didn’t call home anymore. The frame was empty, leering at you and your empty life.

“I don’t have anything to fill it with,” you answer his unspoken question, swallowing the lump in your throat. His helmet tilts again, jaw angled towards you–you can just make it skin in the thin space between the high collar of his compression-fit shirt and the edge of his helmet. You lick your lips.

“No family?” he asks. Your heart should have leapt into your throat at that–it was the sort of thing a serial killer would ask a victim to test the waters.

“None that would notice if I were gone,” you admit in a whisper. Red gleamed in the dim light of your kitchen, the solitary light in the corner of the living room illuminating his stiff figure. “They… had plans for me. College. Career. Things I didn’t want- not that they ever bothered to ask what I did want. It’s probably extreme, but… it was easier to disappear than tell them no.”

Or it’s easier to run and hide.

Jason tilted his helmeted head to the floor, his brows drawn together and lips pursed in a thin line. Growing up with- being raised to be a detective made it easy to parse out what you were doing. You were running. No concrete roots anywhere, ready to disappear again at a moment’s notice. You barely let yourself build a life, sequestered in this rundown apartment building for the sole purpose of dedicating yourself to something else. Anything to make you forget how lonely life had made you.

He knew that feeling.

“You were right the other night, y’know,” you said, rousing him from his thoughts. Jason lifted his head and fixed you with a cold stare. “When you said I don’t know what I’m doing? You’re right, I don’t. I don’t know why I’m here.”

You held his gaze steadily for the first time all evening, daring him to judge you. Some days you wondered if anyone would care if you disappeared–the answer always came back with a resounding no. That shook you to your core. No one wanted you, the hermit on the fifth floor with a dead-end job, no friends, no family.

But maybe if someone depended on you… maybe someone would mourn you, too. If you could give yourselves to others, bury a piece of yourself in their souls, maybe they would feel a piece of themselves break when you inevitably shattered.

It wasn’t kindness. It was survival. Desperation. A need to be remembered, held, cherished, and you clawed for it in the only way you knew how. Subservience.

Red Hood held your stare. Your gaze captivated him in a way he hadn’t felt since he watched the timer tick down to his death. His exhale came out shaky, his hands trembling at his sides because-

Because you got it. That ache that seeped deep into his bones, that desire to mean something to someone so viscerally that they would fight for you. Bruce had never done that.

Jason found that in the children who demanded he play games with them late on his patrols. He found it in the grateful mothers who thanked him for scaring dealers out of their neighborhoods. He found it in the fathers who stood beside him and fought for safer streets.

He found it in the reverence in your gaze.

“What do you want?” he asked, modulated voice breaking the tense silence. You blinked rapidly at his question, chasing away scattered thoughts.

“What?”

“You said… you said your family never asked what you wanted,” he hesitated, unease slipping into his rough voice. “What do you want?”

You hesitated for a moment. Jason’s gaze dropped to your parted lips before returning to the burgeoning hope in your eyes.

“Home,” you responded with a timid smile. Jason flexed his fist at his side.

When was the last time he had called something home? The Manor, maybe. Six months for him, nearly three for the rest of the world. Home wasn’t something he deserved when he had come back so wrong. Like a newborn fawn struggling to stand on tremulous legs, he fought to learn the body he had been reborn into that didn’t feel like his. He came back angry, volatile, wrong, wrong, wrong-

“Are you okay?”

Jason flinched. “Fine,” he answered curtly. He turned away from you and planted his hands on his countertop, fingers curling against the lip of the linoleum with a bruising grip. His chest heaved with deep breaths, huffing like a bull. Control wasn’t something that came easily anymore.

And then he felt you standing by his side. You, who seemed too sweet, a kindness he certainly didn’t deserve. You, who reminded him of the things he wanted but couldn’t- shouldn’t have.

“I’m not sure what I did, but… it’s okay to be upset,” you spoke softly, leaning beside him. “I can… I can go in the other room if you need a minute.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he answered with a huff, bringing one hand up to his helmet. What was he supposed to say to you, a literal stranger? That anger was easier for him to process than anything else? That it came naturally since his time in the Pit?

“Can I touch you?”

Jason’s heart raced. Every muscle in his body tensed, pulled taut with shock. His mouth felt dry, his tongue tacky, and sweat beaded on his brow beneath his helmet. You were asking to touch him?

When you finally did, Jason felt his heart stop. Your hand upon his upper arm, covered by his jacket, felt apprehensive. If not for every cell in his body on alert, he might not have felt the earnest touch.

Your own heart pounded. You didn’t take his silence as a no, but it certainly wasn’t a yes either. So you held still and offered a gentle touch to the soft, worn leather coat he wore over his armored figure. A vigilante, a murderer, a criminal, allowing you to touch him like it was the most natural thing in the world to both of you.

Or maybe just to you, given the way he shook under your hand. Perhaps you had misinterpreted the situation and inflated your significance. Of course, you had. What was a gnat to a hawk, if not a pest? You pulled your hand away.

Red Hood lashed out and your breath caught in your throat. His gloved hand tightened around your wrist in a harsh grip–not bruising, but firm enough to draw a whine from deep in the back of your throat. He relinquished his grip immediately, his shoulders sagging at the expression on your face.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered. Your hand remained raised between the two of you, and he wasn’t sure if it was a barrier or an offering. He twisted slightly to face you, looming over you in the shadowy kitchen. Jason hesitantly lifted his hand, the same that had gripped your wrist moments before. Slowly, he brought his open palm up and rested it against your wrist in a quelling gesture. “I scared you.”

“Only a little,” you answered with a shy smile. His stomach twisted. “It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you to be a perfect gentleman when I invited you in here. It’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed. That was a good way of putting it. Overwhelmed by the way you smelled, how you twisted your wrist to press your palm flat against his gloved hand, and the well of sadness and longing in your eyes. Overwhelmed by life, by hatred, by you.

You interlaced your fingers with his. Jason swallowed the lump in his throat. When was the last time someone had dared to touch him like that? You lowered your joined hands to rest comfortably between you and Jason’s eyes followed, wrestling with the image of your smaller hand cradled in his. It looked unnervingly natural.

“I get it. I’m not very good at talking to people either.” You offered a reassuring smile. “But you make it easier.”

Jason scowled beneath this helmet. “Why? Because you’re talking to a helmet and not a person?”

You scoffed a playful sound that brought warmth to his cheeks. “No, because I’m talking to you. You actually bother to listen.”

Jason couldn’t imagine anyone not listening to you. Your voice sounded like a melody compared to the roar of his own thoughts. Thoughts that suffocated him, made him feel less than and undeserving. That wasn’t his fault though. His past had forced him to respond with vitriol. The way you looked up at him from under your lashes with a pretty frown on your lips quieted those thoughts, even if for just a moment.

Jason turned his wrist, dragging your hand with it. He brought your joined hands up and pressed your knuckles to the edge of his helmet. It was the closest he could bring himself to a thank you, although he wasn’t sure what he was thanking you for.

Your breath stuttered. Red Hood pushed your knuckles firmly against the cold surface of his helmet, just off-center of where you assumed his mouth was. Your heart thudded in your chest, and despite the thick gloves he wore you were certain he could feel the frantic beat of your pulse on your wrist.

His grip was tight, but not demanding as it had been earlier. Your cheeks warmed, your lips parting in a silent question as you stared at the expressionless sea of red in front of you.

Warmth pooled in your belly and crept tantalizingly across your skin. Yes, he could break you… but he wouldn’t. At least, you didn’t think so. But, God, if it meant he would continue to touch you like that, you would let him break you. He cradled your hand like a lifeline, like you were the last thing keeping him rooted. The only thing that mattered in a torrential sea of emotion that you could barely stand to sail alone.

You took a step closer. You expected him to flinch, but he remained steadfast, his helmet angling down slightly to watch you closely. You tugged on his hand and he relented, allowing you to guide him as you pleased.

Red Hood let out a choked noise through his helmet when you brought his gloved knuckles to your lips. The barest touch, one that he couldn’t feel through the kevlar, and yet his heart beat wildly against his ribs. Your lips ghosted over the fabric for just a moment, barely a hint of a kiss, before you pulled away.

His free hand twitched at his side. Your gaze flicked down at the motion and the corner of your mouth quirked up in a half smile.

“You can touch me,” you offered, giving his hand a squeeze.

Jason thought he might die.

“I’d ruin you,” he answered, his voice warbling in desperation.

Loneliness, anger, fear, longing- he saw it all on your face. You felt the same weight he did, and yet you basked in it and let it guide you towards something better. Or maybe something worse, if it was guiding you towards him.

“I’m already ruined,” you said, clasping his hand between both of yours.

Jason jerked his hand away. Your hands fell limply at your sides, disappointment clear in the way your brows knit together. He took a lumbering step back, feeling like he had let you down again. That was all he was capable of, he was sure of it. He couldn’t let himself get entangled in your life without sending it all crashing down.

He was gone before you had a chance to protest. You shuddered at the blast of cold air that filled the room through the open window. Sunlight peeked over the Gotham skyline, draping the sky and your mood in a cloudy gray.

Masterlist ✴ 'Stray' Series ✴ Next Part

Tag list: @taylorgriffin, @joonunivrs, @solari0om

[deleteddewewted]

Super Market Romance

Modern! Titus x Gn! Reader

S: Titus is a retired veteran who suffers from mental and physical disabilities. He’s stricken with social anxiety and depression to the point he only leaves home to shop for groceries. On one of this trips he meets you. This begins a series of encounters that create an unlikely relationship between the two of you.

W: PTSD episodes, Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Reader is a broke Artist, Titus works as an Analyst for a company, Ableist comments (From Titus and to Titus)

He huddled up in his room, his alarm blaring for what felt like hours even after he woke up. He couldn't sleep and he refused to clock into work unless the nausea he felt dissipated. He could feel tears well into the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over if he so much as inhaled deeply. He got up anyway, his right leg aching as he did. He grabbed his cane and made his way to his bathroom, hobbling slowly to his sink and flipping the light switch. Light washed over him. He looked pale and sick. He was sick but he didn't want to acknowledge it. He made quick business of washing his face and brushing his teeth. His leg began to act up and he had to give himself a moment to compose himself before leaving his tiny bathroom.

He made a quick breakfast, eggs with sausage and beans. He was going to grab his instant coffee from his pantry when he noticed the container was empty. He cursed under his breath and began shoveling his food down his throat before making his way to his bedroom. He clocked into work and began getting dressed. He had no meetings or urgent assignments so he left his apartment to buy his favorite coffee and other things he needed. It would be quick, he already knew where everything was at so there was no reason to take long.

He walked out of his apartment, heading to his car in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that accentuated his body. He threw his car door open, throwing his cane into the back seat before he sat into the drivers seat and buckled himself in. He gave himself a moment, the feeling of pedals under his feet and the steering wheel in his hands brought back memories that he would rather forget. He turned the ignition on and made his way to the supermarket closest to his home.

When he arrived, he made sure to park as far away from the entrance as possible. He had a tag that would let him park in the handicapped spots but he refused to use it. Part of him knew he was just sabotaging himself but the other part of him, the one that was too prideful, wouldn't let him have it "easy". He made his way to the front of the store and grabbed a shopping cart. He started with the produce as he needed more tomatoes for a recipe he was thinking of making. He made his way down the aisles, doing his best to ignore other shoppers as he didn't want to make conversation or eye contact.

He always felt alien outside of his home. He knows his features arent pleasant and he does his best to hide as much as he can considering he tends to tower over the average person. His hairline scar, the scar on his cheek, on his nose, the one on his mouth. He knows he isn't winning any beauty contests soon and it irritated him just how unnatural he looked. He wished there was a cure all for his issues. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like shit in the mornings or when he went to bed.

As he made it down the coffee isle, he realized that he wasn't the only one looking for something in the isle. There, one the instant coffee section, was you. You were looking in the bottom shelf to see what cheap coffee would be good enough to drink but also fit in your budget. You were willing and happy to sacrifice taste if it meant it had enough caffeine to get you through the next month.

Titus watched as you looked at the limited options, hoping you’d move soon but that didn’t happen. He sucked it up and walked over hoping you’d move soon were to engrossed in coffee to pay him attention. He looked for his usual go too, a medium roast that wasn’t too heavy on his stomach. He grabbed it, thinking about getting another bag so he wouldn’t have to repeat this trip anytime soon. As he did, you jutted up, pumping into his arm with your head.

“Ouch, sorry, sorry.” You apologized. You got excited when you noticed one of the items had a sale and grabbed it without looking if someone else was near you.

“It’s alright.” He murmured. You rubbed your head and looked up at the man before going wide eyed.

He knew that look already. You were scared and uncomfortable. Everyone looked at him that way. His scars were ugly and they made him look deformed. He averted his gaze from your own and grabbed his items ready to leave but you spoke.

“Cool scars, man.” It wasn’t in exclamation like some people would say it, nor was it in the fake awe some people would do. It was a comment. Just a comment. Like the scars weren’t ugly and contrasted on his skin. Titus blinked to himself before turning around again and starring at you but you were gone. That was his first time ever meeting you.

The next time he saw you was a few weeks after. You were rummaging in your pockets for something all while debating if you should grab ice cream. He only wanted to grab some of the frozen meals he usually got when he was too lazy to cook so he walked past you to grab it. You had noticed him but didn’t acknowledge him. You thought you had made him uncomfortable with the comment you made last time about his appearance. You scanned the shelf seeing if anything looked good but nothing interested you. You turned, heading to the front of the store when Titus noticed you walking away. He wasn’t someone to do impulsive decisions nor was he the type to try and socialize, but your oddly friendly demeanor had interested him.

He grabbed two of the ice cream he liked and hastily walked over to the self checkout counter. He scanned his items quickly, eyeing if you had left the parking lot. Once the receipt printed he all but ran over to you. You were waiting at a bus stop with one of your earbuds out in. You couldn’t hear much of anything but you were surprised when the sun was completely blocked out by the hulking figure in front of you. A small oce cream container as presented to you by the man you had briefly seen in the store.

“I… I wanted…. I got this for you.” Titus panted. His leg was killing him and the muscles felt like they were on fire. He tried to make his discomfort obvious but he’s sure he’s wincing.

You accepted the container and thank him. It was bizarre but a welcoming surprise to say the least. Free ice cream was always a good thing.

“Thank you, stranger.” You watched as he left back towards the parking lot noticing a slight limp present in his walk.

You wondered why he had bothered to gift you the container. It wasn’t like you’ve been particularly welcoming or nice to him.

As you contemplated the reasons why he would do this, your bus arrives and you get on without glancing back to look for the stranger. You made yourself comfortable in the back seat and internally cheered at the fact you had a sweet treat to indulge in after work. Maybe you should be nicer to more strangers.

[karumakitsune]

As a child I was tired all the time. Part of it had to do with my thyroid, which was medicated (after years of saying “I’m tired” over and over and finally being heard).

While the medicine did make me able to function a lot better, I still had a lot of “tired” moments. And I also got bored easily, even with mountains of video games and books to choose from. I always felt bad because I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t enjoy things the way other people do. I also felt spoiled, because I knew as a kid I was better off than most, and I felt guilty for getting bored easily.

Then I learned about burnout. People don’t think going to school 5 days a week will burn a kid out, but it sure did for me (doesn’t help that I was always extremely anxious about only getting good grades, which also should have been another sign to my parents).

When I started going to college, I spread out all of my classes. This usually left me with a day on and a day off. You can’t imagine the amount of relief this had on me. Sure, my depression and anxiety made things difficult, but I wasn’t burnt out for the most part. I have yet to be tested, but I know without a doubt I have autism or adhd (maybe both).

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 7: Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, touch of breeding kink, possessiveness, briefest mention of a free use kink if you squint, multiple orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, lots of dirty talk, mentions of ownership kink, nipple play, name calling, degradation, praise, sadness, heartbreak, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, drinking, smoking, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

so this is my second time trying to post this (thanks tumblr for deleting it completely 🫶🏻) but I just want to say, thank you to everyone who has been patiently and kindly waiting for this update, and i hope this serves as an apology. my life has kinda blown up in my face as of late and I’ve really been struggling, but im trying very hard to get back to normal. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Extremely lightly edited)

And a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, listening to my ramblings, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories would not be what it is without you 😌

Also another special shoutout to @jakeyt. I’m eternally grateful for you and everything you do for me, and so so lucky to have you in my life 🤍

Jake’s POV

“You sure this will work?” Josh asked, looking across the cab of your dad’s car, one eyebrow raised as he awaited your answer. Swallowing back a permanent lump in your throat, the stark dryness of your tongue seemed to make your nervousness grow even stronger. The claminess of your palms and the steady thud of your heart against your chest made it seem all the more real, and as you digested his question you began to wonder that yourself.

“P-positive.” You felt the word get caught in your teeth, like even the syllables were trying their best to mock you. The whole world felt like that, making you second guess every single thought and action, like nothing was good enough. Before you stepped foot outside, before you climbed into the passenger seat with your heart in your hands and every ounce of love scrawled across your tired face, you were certain. Now, as the wheels whirred on the pavement below and the trees passed you by, you could not say that for fact. “It has to work.” You rephrased your words, feeling a bit more confident as those ones slipped past your lips.

“Okay.” Was all he said, his index finger drumming against the steering wheel. For some reason, that did not bode well with you, making the knots in your stomach tighten to the point of fraying.

“Okay?” At that, he let out a chuckle, his lips stuck in an irritating smile as he gave one singular nod of his head.

“If you’re sure, then so am I.” He reiterated his stance, peeking at you from the very corner of his eye.

“Okay, well—“ you huffed a breath, feeling a slight twang in your chest as you tried to agree with him. Suddenly, you couldn’t keep up the facade anymore, feeling the fears tumble out faster than you could stop them. “What if I’m not sure?” The pitch of your voice, high and airy, seemed to send another laugh shaking his shoulders.

“And why wouldn’t you be sure, Jake?” Josh and his aggravatingly accurate intuition, always knowing when something was wrong and knowing exactly how to pry it out of you.

“I hate you, you know.” You grumbled, your lips dipping down into a frown as you swiped your palms over your jeans. “How did you know?”

“Jesus, brother, I can feel the anxiety all the way over here. You’re not as mysterious as you think—least not to me, anyway.” He said, turning the radio down ever so slightly. “What’s got you second guessing yourself?”

“I just—fuck.” You sighed, your head falling back on the seat as you sucked a sharp breath into your lungs. “It has to work, Josh. It has to. I can’t—I won’t go back to Nashville if she… if we—“

“Alright,” he nodded, cutting off your nervous rambling so you need not suffer any more. He got it, and he didn’t need you to explain it now that he knew for sure that’s what it was about. “Well, it certainly won’t be good for you if you show up at her front door looking like that. Nervous, stuttering, sweating mess.”

“Hey,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed at his blunt words. He flashed you a soft smile, letting you know it was only a joke.

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He motioned towards you, your entire aura affecting him directly, like he could feel your racing heart and hear your inner voice. “Freak yourself out, panic, like you don’t know her better than anyone in the whole world—aside from me.” He added quickly, making sure that he was involved in the equation. “You know she’ll love it Jake, ‘cause she loves you. Even after everything, that’s still true and you know that.”

“But is it enough?” That question posed a long bout of silence between the two of you. Josh lessened the pressure of his foot on the gas pedal, slowing the car without hitting the brakes. He knew he needed more time to formulate a good answer to your question, but even as the car crawled across the main road of the suburb, he wasn’t sure any response would truly suffice.

“You never know unless you try.” He offered, knowing it did not ease any fear but hesitant about giving you false hope. You gave a solemn nod, understanding that was all he could say. “I mean, Jake, come on. This is sunshine we’re talking about. Just tell her the stuff you need to get off your chest… don’t leave anything unsaid this time. She wants this too, but she’s scared. Help her see it in a different way. She got a job, and that was her biggest concern, wasn’t it?”

“She did.” You hummed, the dryness of your mouth worsening as you saw her house appear in the distance. “I mean, all of this had to happen for a reason, right? It has to mean something more than closure, or moving on, or whatever the fuck…” you rambled, sickened at the idea of the biggest chapter of your life coming to an end. Actually, you weren’t even sure you could survive it.

“I think,” he flicked on the turn signal, slowing so he could pull into her driveway. You tried to ignore the anxious buzz in your ears, your thoughts spiraling and causing you to do the same. “That what the two of you have is a once in a lifetime experience. For that reason alone, I believe that there’s more to this story.”

For once, his ambiguity made you feel better instead of worse, because you agreed with the sentiment. For how strongly both of you felt, it couldn’t just end. There had to be something more for the two of you, together.

Only once the car was parked did he speak again, this time a bit more direct with his words.

“Do you want me to wait here?”

“No.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m gonna see this one through.” You continued, knowing in your heart that you did not need a fallback. Even if things did not work in your favor, you wouldn’t be sent away. Not now, not ever. She, no matter what the two of you were, would always accept you with open arms and love you accordingly. This house, her house, would always be home, whether you were a lover, a friend, or even a stranger who knew much more than he should. So long as she lived, you knew you would have a place beside her, even if it was not what you wanted it to be. “I’m gonna get her back, Josh.”

At that, a knowing grin crossed his lips.

That was what he was waiting for.

For you to breathe in the confidence he was pushing in your direction, to listen to the tellings of your heart rather than your head, to understand that you could not let her go again, that you could not accept self destruction and misery when the resolution was within reach.

“You’re gonna get her back, Jake.” He reiterated your point, making sure you knew he felt the same way. “Now go. Don’t wait any longer.” He ushered you out of the car, his toothy smile making you feel like the world was right again.

Looking at him now, about to accomplish your life’s purpose, you finally understood that the reason you put so much faith in Josh boiled down to one, very simple fact: the world had been burning, six whole years spent in the barren pits of hell without a breath of relief in sight, and not for one single second did he ever think of leaving your side. At your lowest of lows, feeling the heartbreak with you and suffering alongside you, he never felt an inkling to ignore it or to give up on you. He tackled every one of your tears and self-doubts with determination, making sure you knew that being alone wasn’t even an option and that all of your fears were misguided. He listened to the same rants and complaints a million times over and never found himself sick of it. Right now, after knowing all of the suffrage and the role he had within it, he was sending you straight into her arms even knowing what the outcome might be and how it would affect him.

He wanted you to be happy, and he would stop at nothing to see it.

The whole world had been burning until that fateful day in Italy, and he held your hand the entire time, opting to burn with you instead of watching you burn alone. Relief did not only touch you when you received that message, but him too.

If Josh, out of everyone in the entire world, believed that the two of you should be together, you owed it to him to try, to show him that his efforts have never gone unnoticed or unappreciated even if by times it seemed so.

“I love you.” You said, fingers clasped around the door handle as you prepared to step outside. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” He replied, his eyes scanning the car to make sure you had everything you needed, always taking care of you without even realizing he was doing it. “I’ll see you at home.” You gave one curt nod, reiterating the statement wordlessly. “You’ve got this, Jake. You’ve been waiting for this for years. We’ve been waiting for this.”

That seemed to be all you needed, and with a smile on your face, you finally stepped out into the warm summer air, a rush of confidence fuelling you as you gave him one last look over your shoulder. Swallowing your fears (and your pride, as it seemed), you straightened the hem of your shirt against your chest, making sure the collar was flipped the right way before advancing any further. Running one hand through your hair, you took the first step towards the front porch, fully expecting lead to weigh you down yet pleasantly surprised at the airiness of your limbs.

This was the right thing to do.

You were making the right decision.

Of course you were; there was no other choice. At the end of the line, she was the only thing that mattered.

Feeling both of your feet firmly stand on the first rickety wooden step, you thought the anxiety might return, but the closer you got to the door, the better you felt. The closer to her, the brighter it seemed.

Your malaise had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with missing her. Knowing that she was nearby, that you would be able to see the sweet smile and the sparkling eyes that turned your entire world upside down, was enough to make any bad feelings or negative thoughts flee you completely. She was home to you, and no matter how much time or hurt stood between you, that would never change.

With each creaking stair, you felt the nervous energy quickly turn to excitement, and as you raised your hand to knock on her front door, it felt like the sun began to shine down upon your face, warming your soul in the sweetest and most precious way.

But, the sun had always been shining, especially on the particularly warm summer day, even if it would soon set in the sky. Not a cloud in sight to cover it, and not even a flicker in its intensity.

As you knocked a second time, you could feel the light flood your veins, bright white and searing hot, begging to burst straight from your skin and bleed you dry.

This light, this warmth, never had a thing to do with the burnt up old star in the sky, and you believed that more than ever, especially when the door swung open and you were graced with the sight of her beautiful, breathtaking face.

Her POV

“Ozz, please.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration, grumbling and groaning as the cat puttered in front of your feet and tripped you for the second time since you stood. Although, you couldn’t be too upset at him, considering he was the only reason you knew there was someone at the front door. If not for his chirping and flattened ears, you would have disregarded the knock completely, bundled up on the couch as you watched reruns of your favorite television show. Feeling guilty for scolding him in such a tone, you gave a sad smile and reached down, scooping him straight into your arms as you carried him to the door.

Seemingly content with the new position, he melted into your chest as you kicked aside shoes lingering by the front door. You had gotten back from your faculty meeting a few hours prior, finding yourself excited and counting down the minutes until Monday morning, finally feeling right and ready to start your life. Tired from your first early morning in a long time (and from the long drive to and from), you started apartment hunting as soon as you got home, unwilling to make the hour trek both ways for any longer than necessary. Mel, who had scored an interview at an elementary school not far from the university, decided to take the afternoon and explore the town after a promising afternoon.

Knowing she wouldn’t be back until late (if at all, knowing her and her inkling to make friends or lovers anywhere), you ordered takeout to be delivered at your door and prepared for an evening to yourself. Your mother and your little sister had left shortly after you got home, giving you the rundown on their plans while you only half listened. When your father left, your mother had taken it upon herself to ensure that once a month, she would spend an entire evening with each of you on your lonesome, and at least one night with all three of you, doing something fun and carefree. It was her way of ensuring you two always knew how much she loved you, and that no matter how life was, she would always make time for you. Sometimes, it was just a movie, or ice cream, but other times, when money wasn’t as tight, it was a spa day or a day trip to the mall.

In the very beginning, you didn’t know it, but it was a way to distract her and the two of you from the emptiness of the home. It gave all of you something to look forward to, and it reminded you and your sister of all the love that continued to surround you.

Back then, you loved it. Now, you had a whole new appreciation for it knowing the truth behind it.

Once you went to university, obviously it became a little harder to maintain, so when you were home, she jumped at the chance to have that time with you again. It was different, but still just as important, and even more beautiful to see the tradition carry on.

So with the house all to yourself for the first time in a long time, you were soaking up the vacant space and lack of noise, enjoying as much of it as you could before the (welcome) chaos made a return.

Until the knock on the door, which left you where you were now: a cat clutched tightly to your chest, the evening sun shining through the blinds on the door before it sank in the sky, and a growing curiosity about who could be on the other side.

When you twisted the knob, the brightness from outside immediately took you by surprise. Once your eyes focused on the body before you, an ethereal light behind him framing him as even more angelic as usual, your heart sped and your stomach churned. It was not his presence that caused such a sudden reaction, even though he usually had such effects on you, but rather the items in his hand, held closely to his chest. Sunglasses sat low on his nose, his long brown hair honey-like as the sun illuminated it. His warm chestnut eyes spoke straight to your soul without him needing to say a word, and his half-smile sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice, smooth like silk with a slight rasp of smoke, felt like a punch’s straight to the stomach.

The last time you had seen him, emotion hung heavy over your heads and your hearts splayed so carefully on your sleeve, you felt like you had left a million things unsaid, things you weren’t sure you would ever be able to air out. The title you had placed upon yourselves had left you wanting more, even if it did serve a little comfort when it changed from friends, and the risqué picture he sent over text after he was dropped off at the hotel was still seared into the front of your mind. Though a few texts had been sent and received between now and then, you still felt like the two of you had been caught in a stalemate, damned if you reached out and damned if you did not.

For the first time since the night on the roof, you finally let yourself feel how much you were missing him, how bleak and lonely life was without his company, whether it be in person or over the phone. For a brief second, you wanted to collapse into his arms, unable to control yourself or ignore the need to be held by him. Giving your head a slight shake, you understood that was not the best way to greet him, especially considering his hands were full, and so were yours.

Well, occupied, at least.

Ozz, who had been completely content with being held by you moments before, was now completely beside himself as he tried to push himself free from your grasp. He was chirping and meowing like crazy, desperate to be noticed by you even if your attention was caught by something else. Finally back to earth, you looked down at the furry companion, noticing his intent was not to be put down on the floor, but rather to greet Jake with all of the love you were withholding from him.

As you watched him lean towards the boy at the door, you felt a rush of emotion flood you, your eyes flickering between Jake and Ozz, finding the situation more telling than anything else.

“He never greets me like that.” You whispered to yourself, stepping forward as Jake did the same, always willing to meet you in the middle.

“He seems more excited to see me than you are.” Jake joked, raising his free hand to pet the cat, showing Ozz he was just as happy to see him.

“Not true.” You dismissed the idea. “I am excited to see you—just surprised.” Not at his presence, but the curious items he held in his hand and the overwhelming response of your cat to his company. And, although he was always welcome at your house, his showing up without any prior warning was very out of character, even for the version of Jake you loved so long ago.

“Can I come in?” One step inside already, he figured it would be best to ask permission to come any further despite the fact he knew he did not need it.

“Of course you can.” You nearly scoffed the reply, astounded by the fact he even felt the need to ask.

“How was your first day?” He asked, gently kicking the door shut behind him as you stepped backwards to allow him inside. Your eyes still fixated on his hands, you couldn’t seem to feign any sense of normalcy in response to his question. You slowly made your way back to the dining room, checking over your shoulder as he followed behind you. As you turned back to face him, you finally managed to respond.

“I-it… good.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at your own lack of poise. “Okay, yeah—what are you doing here?” You finally understood that dismissing his suddenness and surprise was not an option, because you could not focus on anything aside from the—

“For you.” He finally extended his arm, offering the bouquet of expensive looking and beautifully arranged flowers. Taking in the sight of them, smelling the sweet fragrance of the petals, you understood that his visit was not without intent. Knowing that from the very beginning, you carefully sat Ozz on the floor and accepted the gift anyway, feeling little desire to turn him or his sweet gestures away. “I’m headed back home tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” For two people who could not fully be together, the prospect of not having him around nearly brought you to your knees with grief. “So, just stopping in to say goodbye?” The crack in your voice gave you away, instantly telling him how painful the idea was.

A slight smile crossed his face as he gave his head a shake. Then, his eyes flickered to the floor for a moment, like he was trying to compose himself before giving a verbal response. You watched him carefully, like you were begging him for something you did not have the strength to say. Subconsciously, you wanted him to tell you all of the things you wanted to tell him, to open that door and make it easier for you to retract your ridiculous claims of friendship and separate ways.

If you had learned anything in the last few days, it was that you were crazy for thinking you could force yourself away from him a second time. Too scared to say it first, you hoped that by some stroke of luck, he was there to tell you exactly that.

“Not really, no.” He finally said, flipping up the second item in his hand so he could see it clearly. As you swallowed the lump in your throat, you tried not to look down at it, a sinking feeling in your stomach forcing you to believe you lived this exact scenario six years prior. Your only hope was that it would not end the same way. “I have a few things to say; do you have time to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat, wishing to rid yourself of the stutter that suddenly took to your words. “For you, I always do.”

“Good.” He hummed, tapping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickered to your face. “Are you actually going to listen to me, sunshine?”

Although you hated admitting to your bad habits, you knew his question served a purpose, and he was completely justified in asking it.

“Yes.” You promised, assuring him of the fact.

“Okay.” He sighed a breath of relief, happy to hear it. “Nine years ago, or just about, I skipped my fourth period history class. It was raining outside, miserable and cold… I knew I couldn’t swing the soccer field, so I had to stay inside and not get caught. Instead, I went down to the gym, figured I could fuck around in the equipment closet for a little while, then figure something else out.”

“Jake,” you warned, your stomach lurching and your chest aching, remembering the day just as vividly and just as longingly as he did. You couldn’t hear him retell it, couldn’t bear hearing it from his point of view, especially when you spent so many years trying to forget it.

“You said you were going to listen, so listen.” He laughed, barely phased by your expected interruption. “When I went inside, I went straight to the back corner, where they kept all of the soccer balls and basketballs—but I heard something. I stopped, asked myself if I was fuckin’ crazy, but I knew that I wasn’t. Lo and behold, there was a girl sitting behind those big blue gymnastic mats. Do you know who it was, sunshine?” He was playing a sick and twisted game, one that you didn’t like very much but were too curious to refute. You wanted to hear what he had to say, even if it hurt like a bitch to do it.

“Me.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your torso and hugging yourself for a bit of comfort, in agony as you recalled his curious eyes and gentle approach.

“Crying, hiding, all because of Liam and his ridiculous fucking list.” He finished for you, his eyes glazed over as the melancholy sat itself upon both of your shoulders. He remembered that fact with utmost clarity, especially considering the fact he deemed Liam his mortal enemy after you told him why you were in the equipment room in the first place. “I was already in trouble with my parents for skipping—said if I did it again, I wouldn’t be able to play soccer anymore. For whatever reason, that day I couldn’t bring myself to step foot in that classroom, not even when I thought of the consequences. I didn’t care, but I didn’t know why. When I sat down beside you, the first ever time I got to be the shoulder you cried on, I got it. The minute I saw you, sunshine, the very second you opened your mouth and spoke to me, when you let me be that person for you, nothing else in the entire world mattered.”

“I was supposed to be there, Y/N. I was supposed to be with you, listening to you, loving you. My whole life, that is the only thing I have ever wanted to do, that I’ve ever been meant to do. I did it for nine whole years, even while you were gone and even when you didn’t want me to—even when I didn’t want to, I did.” He stepped towards you, intent clear in his eyes and showing no sign of backing down. “Six years ago, I stood in front of you in this house, and I gave you a CD with eight songs. Four songs that told you how much I loved you, and four songs that told you how horrible it felt to know that I wouldn’t be able to love you anymore.” He paused, chuckling to himself as he looked down at his hands, another damned plastic CD case held tightly in one of them.

For the briefest second, the flowers in your hand and the CD in his brought you to a different time, stuck in your bedroom with posters decorating the walls, the sweetness of lavender and vanilla hanging in the air, Dr. Phil reruns echoing down the hallways from the living room. You were eighteen again and so was he, silently begging each other to try a little harder, to have a little more faith, but too afraid to speak it aloud.

This time, you didn’t want to keep quiet. You remembered, almost too vividly, how painful it was to swallow your desires and leave him behind, how it never truly went away, how horrible it felt to chase your dreams without him by your side. You didn’t want that for him; you grew too much, worked too hard to end up in the same situation with just the roles reversed. You couldn’t let him go again, not without saying everything. You could leave no stone unturned, no matter how afraid you were of the outcome. You were so afraid of hurting him and yourself that you were doing it anyway, and if you had learned anything in your time loving Jake, it was that a single moment spent with him was worth any outcome, good or bad.

But, you promised him you would listen. The last few days, you had done all of the talking, made all of the decisions. It was his turn, and you had to allow him that.

“Back then, I thought it was so stupid… that you would think it was stupid, or corny, or whatever.” He swallowed hard, his eyes still focused on the plastic casing in his hand. “For a long time, that’s how I felt about it. Eight songs couldn’t even come close to how I feel about you, sunshine. Nothing could ever explain that, not even me. For six years, I thought there was just some stupid CD out in the world, or in the garbage somewhere, wondering why I couldn’t have been a little braver and said it aloud, rather than being a coward and biting my tongue. I hated that CD, because I always thought it wasn’t enough.”

“Jake, it was more than enough.” You stressed, gently placing the flowers down on the dining room table behind you.

“It wasn’t enough back then, but it was enough to bring you back now, sunshine.” He corrected you. “I wanted it to keep us together, but I’m okay with the fact it just took a while to work.” Before you could respond, you got distracted by the beauty of his face as he smiled softly, like he was proud of himself for phrasing it so perfectly. “I told you that night that it wasn’t over for us, that maybe it was just the time wasn’t right—Romeo and Juliet. That’s why I put that song on there.”

“I know that’s why, and I agreed with you.” You hummed, feeling that damn gravitational pull forcing you towards him again.

“Right, but I’m telling you that there’s no way in hell that the time was wrong twice.” He stepped towards you, wanting to take your face in his hands but holding himself back. “This is our second chance, our opportunity to do it right.”

“But it doesn’t—“

“It does.” He cut you off, knowing exactly where your mind was. “Those notifications, Y/N, all the rescheduled meetings and interviews… I know why you reacted like that, but it wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Then what was it?” You hugged yourself a bit tighter, needing the security as he began to deconstruct even more notions in your mind.

“Josh.” He confessed, catching your eye so you could see the truthful intent.

Jake had always been a terrible liar, and in that moment, you couldn’t catch a single wisp of anything other than the truth.

“When you called, and we started talking again, he was even happier than we were, and it was his idea to put everything on pause so I could come here and make sure that I didn’t lose you again.” You felt a wave of sickness wash over you, guilt nipping at your skin and ravaging your heart and head. Jake didn’t put everything on pause and hinder himself and everyone else; everyone else was on board, pushing him back towards the girl he dreamt of every night for six years. You had jumped the gun, decided things for yourself and never gave him the chance to explain. “And if you think, even for a second, that I would want any girl that wasn’t you, you really have lost your mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t…” you trailed off, knowing that you had indeed lost your mind. Believing that he would ever be unfaithful or disloyal to you was the most insane thing you had ever done, and punishing him for something you knew was not true was even worse. “I’m sorry, bug.”

“Amelie is our friend, yes, but more importantly,” he reached into his pocket, swiping the screen to unlock it and show you he was being honest. “Our photographer.” He flashed the screen in your direction, the text chain in question visible. The very message that put the nail in the coffin was followed by what looked like four pristine, stunning pictures of Jake on stage with his guitar in his hands, illuminated by the pyrotechnics with his hair sticking to his skin.

Although the topic at hand was more pressing, you could not deny the feeling rapidly growing in the pit of your stomach, worsening as you stared at the pictures of him, wondering if by chance you would be able to see the sight with your own eyes someday.

“I was bothering her all week to send me some of the shots she got… to show you.”

“Jake,” you took your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart ached for the boy who stood before you. How could you hurt him so badly, more than once? “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m not mad, or upset, or anything, sunshine. You deserve the truth, and that’s why I’m here.” As you pulled your hands away from your face, you saw him slip his phone back into his pocket. Then, his attention turned back to the plastic case in his hands as he drew in a long breath. “And the fucking truth is, I can’t go back to Nashville and leave things like this. I can’t be your friend, I can’t be in love but not together, and I won’t be a fucking stranger again. You found that box for a reason, and the reason is standing in front of you right now—the reason was the night at the hotel, and what should have been the last few days. The time isn’t wrong, sunshine. I’m here, telling you that I have never stopped loving you, not even for a minute. I waited so long for you to reach out, spent so many nights staring at the ceiling trying to remember what it felt like when you were laying next to me, and I don’t want to do that anymore, especially when I know that it feels just as good now as it did when we were eighteen.”

He didn’t give you the chance to interrupt, because he stepped forward and pulled your mind in an entirely different direction. The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and amber, so reminiscent of the only peace you had ever known, was impossible to ignore.

“I gave you eight songs when we were eighteen, and I let you walk away. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I spent my whole life trying to figure out how to fix it.”

You looked upwards, intoxicated by his cologne and frozen in time as you locked eyes with him. Sometimes, when he was staring at you, it felt like the whole world stopped turning, like the only thing that existed was the love shared between you. Your heart, aching and yearning for the only thing you had ever loved, did not belong to you. It had always been in the palm of his hand, his name to be heard in every timely beat if you listened close enough, and it never felt right anywhere else. Even as you stood now, broken and bruised after so long of suffering, you knew it was the only place you ever wanted it to be.

“This time, I have eight songs that I’ll let you decide the meaning to. If you want to walk away again, I can’t stop you, but only if you really mean it sunshine. If there is any part of you that wants to try again, listen to it—to me, when I tell you how fucking much I love you, how badly I want this.” Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your best not to shed a tear as you clung to every word. How could you deny him? How could you push him out the door and risk the chance of losing him forever? You knew how miserable life was without him by your side, and sometimes you believed death would be preferable to the feeling of missing him. Constantly walking, functioning, breathing, but never enjoying it. The functions automatic, just for survival and never for anything more.

You were tired of surviving, because you knew that being with him was the only time it ever truly felt like you were living.

“No One Like You, The Scorpions.” He started, confidence returning to him when he did not hear any objections. “If I had to pick one song to describe exactly how it felt without you, that’s the one. In six years, I never met a single person that could even come close to you, sunshine. I waited every single day for this, just to be with you again, no matter what we were doing.” You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to break any more, but every time he spoke, it did just that.

“You’re In My Heart… Rod Stewart.” He hummed out the words, sending you a soft smile that made your stomach twist in on itself. “Because you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul… you’ll be my breath should I grow old…” He whispered, reciting the lyrics as the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He chuckled at himself, embarrassed at his own actions, but you couldn’t have fallen any further in love with him than you were in that moment.

“You’re my lover, you’re my best friend.” You finished for him, unable to hold back the smile that wanted to match his so badly. Reaching out, a gentle hand landed on his forearm to show him how much he meant to you and how true the words were.

“Carry On by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.” He continued, listing off yet another song that would mean just as much to you in years to come, no matter the outcome. “For lots of reasons… listened to it a lot after you went to school. Guess the reason I put it on this one was because of that last line. ‘Lover, can you talk to me?’” He paused, reaching up to swipe away a single tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “We don’t have to just… carry on. We can figure it out together, as a team. Just like we always did back then.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” You admitted, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. There was no more holding back; the floodgates had opened, and you too knew that there was no way you could send him back to Nashville and leave things like this.

“We’re Going Wrong.” He said, trying to get through the songs as fast as possible. “I listened to it the day you left for university, and I listened to it this week at the hotel. This is wrong, sunshine. All of it. The way we feel, being apart… it doesn’t have to be like this. Two people who love each other this much should be able to make it work.”

You didn’t give a verbal response, but you were sure he could see it in your eyes that you felt the same.

“I Can’t Tell You Why… last time, I threw a Bob Dylan song on the CD, and I know you hated it, even if you didn’t say it out loud. Maybe that was why it didn’t work.” At that, the two of you shared a true, genuine laugh that shook your shoulders and lessened the heartbreak for a moment. “To make up for it, I put an Eagles song on this one, ‘cause I know they’re your favorite. Lots to pick from, but I think that one gets the message across the best.”

“Me, too.” You hummed, unable to tear your eyes away from his, feeling an invisible force locking you into place. Every time you saw him, every single time his eyes connected with yours, the whole world felt right. It seemed as though when he was next to you, nothing could ever go wrong.

“Sweet City Woman.” He laughed to himself as he said it aloud, the blush on his cheeks darkening as he prepared to confess to the next one. “Sam went through this phase, way back when we first went on tour�� swear to god, sunshine, he played this song every single day. Drank to it before shows, he danced around to it on the tour bus. Not sure what it was… maybe it was just catchy, upbeat, put him in a good mood and got stuck in his head… I used to get so mad at him, but it wasn’t because I hated the song, or anything like that. For the first little while, it was funny watching him sing along to it, but it always made me so fucking sad and I had no idea why. Went to bed early one night, they were all drinking and talking, and he put it on like usual… I was scrolling through old pictures, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and it made sense—that whole song, from the very first note, always made me miss you, because it reminded me of you. Bright and shiny, full of love and light…”

“Some things never change, Jacob.” You laughed, blinking back tears blurring your vision. The happy sadness was coating your words, stuck in your throat and warbling your tone.

“What do you mean?” He asked, fighting every urge to hold you until the sadness passed and only happiness remained.

“Hopeless romantic, just like always.” You whispered, feeling tempted by the softness of his lips, wondering if you could interrupt his grand show of affection and cut straight to the point. Remembering what it was like to kiss him and to touch him was tortuous enough without him within reach, but having him standing in front of you was worse than anything else. Still, you decided to let him finish, to say all he needed to get off his chest so the two of you could move forward.

“Only for you, Y/N. Always for you.” He hummed, the gentle tone matching yours. “Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band… we were at a bar, Josh and I, not long after we released that first EP. Went on a big road trip to Toledo, just him and I, to get away and to distract me from being miserable—not sure why we picked Toledo, but whatever—anyway, we were at this dingy bar, losing money at a set of slot machines.” He cut himself off from rambling, bluntly getting to the main point of his story. At that, another laugh took hold, imagining the picture with the utmost clarity. “Someone threw this song on the old Jukebox, and I had never heard it before. Was an older couple, just starting to go gray and definitely hammered. Sunshine, they slow danced to that song like they were the only people in the room—no, in the world. I was drunk off draft, and mourning the three-hundred bucks I just threw in the machine, and I watched them the whole damn time.” He stopped himself, choked up and teary-eyed just at the memory. He shook his head, clearing his throat as he blinked away his own tears, unwilling to break down in front of you as he told the story.

“I just remember thinking to myself how much I wanted to do that with you, how badly I wanted that to be us—then and in twenty years, when your hair is turning gray and I’m going bald. It had been so long since I talked to you, since I saw you, and even then… I just knew, sunshine. I knew it was you, that it would always be you. Here in Michigan, at mom and dad’s house, in a taproom in fucking Toledo, at the Eiffel Tower in France, in that fucking hotel room in Italy—sunshine, it’s you. You’re the only thing I have ever wanted, and no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I want you there beside me. I knew that night that I couldn’t give up, because if I still loved you as much as I did when you left, it wasn’t worth letting go.”

“Jake,” you swallowed back a sob, your heart shattered in your chest and stabbing you with every breath, knowing that you felt all of the same things for just as long as he did. “I felt—I feel the same way. There was never another you, and I didn’t want to find one. I didn’t want anyone to take your place, or sleep in bed next to me. I didn’t want to learn anyone else’s favorite color, or how they drank their coffee. I wanted you.” He wanted to respond, but his eyes flickered to the CD, knowing he had one last thing to say before the conversation changed direction. You smiled, giving him a gentle nod as a silent permissive gesture. He let out a breath, happy to know you understood what he meant.

“Straight On, Heart.” He finished the tracklist, proud of himself for making it that far. “I’m here for a reason, sunshine, and you know exactly what it is.” He finished, standing still as he awaited your response. His breathing stopped, his eyes locked on you with no intent to move, wondering if after all this time it was finally enough. “Do you feel it too, or am I just fucking crazy?” Instead of responding, you reached your hand out, slow and steady as you extended it towards him. His gaze flickered towards your outstretched fingers, wondering what it meant and if he accepted, would it be for the reason he so badly wanted.

“Come on,” you emphasized your hand, raising an eyebrow at him. Cautiously, he reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “Come with me.” You whispered, taking a small step towards the hallway. Without a word, he followed behind, letting you lead him up the stairs and to your bedroom, the one in which you had created a lifetime's worth of cherished memories. “Sit.” You motioned towards the bed, reluctantly letting go of his hand as you ushered him away from you.

He did as you asked, still holding the CD close as he sat on the very edge of the bed, the same space you sat six years prior while he stood and poured his heart out to you. For a brief moment, you admired the sight of him in your bed again, feeling that it had been far long since you were able to experience something so beautiful. Then, forcing yourself to remember why you brought him upstairs in the first place, you took a step towards your desk. Your fingers clasped around the tattered shoebox, the fateful capsule of memories that brought you back to him in the first place. The shine of silver sharpie, half faded and covered with dust brought a smile to your face as you picked it up and brought it to him, taking a seat next to him on the mattress.

“The first Christmas after we broke up, I sat right here with Mom… I was so sad. I was sad every single day after I left, and sometimes it felt like I was drowning in it, like I would die if it didn’t get better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you knew he was listening to every word. “I listened to that first mixtape twenty-four seven, Jake. First thing in the morning, while I got ready for class, while I showered, when I went to bed. I had every scratch, skip, static, all of it, memorized. I thought about you every minute of every day, and dreamt about you while I slept. When I came home for the holidays, I was a fucking mess.” Listening intently without saying a word, his eyes seemed to be burning holes straight through you, putting you on display like never before.

“She was desperate to help, so she did the exact same thing she did when dad left; she helped me pack up every single memory and reminder of you we could find.” You felt the scratch of tears in your throat as you recalled the visceral pain as you packed your life’s greatest love away in a box to never be seen again. “Including the CD.” You flipped the top open, feeling a sinking feeling in your stomach for no real reason at all. The memories washed over you like summer rain, sweeter and warmer than ever before now that he was here to live it with you. You reached inside, your fingertips grazing over flower petals and baby’s breath from corsages and bouquets he didn’t even think you remembered.

“She packed it away somewhere, kept it out of sight until I was ready for it again. Think she thought that when I stumbled across it, I’d be healed and moved on… she never anticipated me to still be as in love with you as I was the day we put all of this stuff away.” You continued, carefully laying out tokens of love on the patterned cotton sheet below, showing him just how cherished and loved he was by you. “I always knew, Jake. I always knew that you would be that person for the rest of my life, no matter where I was or how long it had been since I saw you. When I opened this box… the whole world stopped. At first, it hurt so bad, but now I know that it happened for a reason.”

“I tried, for four years, to forget about you, to forget about how badly I missed you, how deeply I loved you. I buried myself in work, distracted myself with anything I could think of, and sure after a while the memories faded to the back of my mind, but that hollow feeling never left.” You scattered old guitar picks alongside flower petals, your fingers tracing the divots in the plastic from their prolonged use. Years of musical history lived within the flimsy fibers, contained within the box to keep them safe forever. Not a single moment of Jake’s life, of his love, or of his emotion went unnoticed by you, and not a single second did you ever take it for granted. Within your heart, it was forever sacred. “I had myself convinced that you moved on, that you forgot all about me and found a girl who could love you better than I could, back then. Not for a single second did I ever consider the idea that you were hurting just as bad as I was, because if I’m being honest, I never thought there was a universe that existed where you would not be loved so completely and wholly like you deserved.”

“When I found the box… as we sit here now, I know that you were always loved like that, even if you didn’t feel it or see it or hear it, because I never stopped.” You pressed your lips together tightly, locking up the cry that was desperate to escape as your fingers grazed the stack of old Polaroids. “Every single thing you ever gave me, every picture we took, every love letter you signed with your name, it’s all here, Jake. I kept it for a reason, because six years ago the universe knew I would need some motivation, some courage, to reach out and tell you that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you.”

“I remember everything. Where we took these pictures, how it felt to be loved by you in that moment, the sound of Josh laughing at us, the fucking sticky summer heat on my skin. All of these guitar picks—you gave me this one,” you pointed at a green one, smiling softly to yourself. “This one fell out of your pocket into the bed,” you pointed at a worn black one. “And I found this one in the bathroom, the night we decided to take a step back and figure our shit out before I left.” You took in a deep breath, calming your buzzing nerves as you continued to tell him everything you had kept secret for so long. “This sticky note, you left on my desk in senior year. English class, which you fucking hated, after the teacher got pissed off at you for talking to me. This rose petal came from the first bouquet of flowers you ever gave me, and this movie stub was from eleventh grade.” You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling for no real reason at all other than to finally, truly express how much he meant to you.

“Point is, I didn’t forget anything. I convinced myself I did, ‘til it was in front of my face and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I found this for a reason, and the reason definitely isn’t ’two people in love who can’t fully be together’.” You finished, catching his hopeful eye and feeling the same feeling blossoming in your own chest. “I was stupid, and I was scared, both times. I wish I could take that back, to make it right and make it up to you… I know I can’t, but I want to try, Jake. All those things I felt at the hotel, although they’re true, aren’t a good enough reason to give this up. My whole life, especially the last six years, I’ve come to terms with the fact that loving you is the only thing that I know how to do, and I don’t want to know anything or anyone else. You’re that person for me too, bug. You always have been.”

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his hand going in search of the items you held so close to your heart. As his calloused fingertips grazed the edge of the Polaroid picture, the very one of you sitting in the field, nestled so comfortably in his arms, you knew the exact feeling that washed over him. Seeing it after so long, having all of that love rush back and fill your body, it was almost too much to bear. Thankfully, this time, you had each other to lean on. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

“I know you won’t throw your life away to be with me. I suppose I’m just so afraid… I’m afraid because I love you so much, Jake. Even while I went off, chasing my own dreams and building a new life… yours were still so important to me. I’ve been your biggest fan since the day I met you, and I know how hard you’ve worked to get here, and I don’t ever want to get in the way of that. I couldn’t handle it if I did and you resented me for it. I love you too much, Jake. Always have. Used to think it was a bad thing, but I know that it is the best thing in the whole fucking world. Loving you makes it worth it, and I want to live your dream with you, and now you can live my dream with me.” He haphazardly tossed all of the items back in the box, still cautious so as not to damage any of the precious memories, a blinding smile growing on his face the longer he worked at the task.

“Last time, I told you ‘we have tonight’.” He said, finally placing the box on the floor beside the bed and looking back at you. You hummed a noise of agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “What if it’s not just tonight, sunshine? It can be the rest of our lives. It can feel like this forever—I just need you to say yes. We can figure all of the hard shit out later, take it as it comes.” He watched you, waiting as you processed what he was saying. After a moment of prolonged silence, he spoke again. “I love you, sunshine. More than anyone or anything, and I will love you no matter if you’re mine or not. If we’re going to love each other anyway, let’s do it the right way.” Silence ensued once more, but not because you were hesitant. This time, it was because you had a hard time believing that it could be real, that he was here and the stars had aligned, that the time was finally right.

No more obstacles, no more fear, no more waiting for the one thing you had always dreamed about. He was here, eight more songs in hand, ready to love you for the rest of his life and unwilling to settle for anything less. You had never wanting anyone or anything more than this, more than him, and after spending so long lamenting about something you thought you may never get, it was difficult to trust that it could be so easy.

“What do you say, sunshine?” Clearly, the silence was affecting him a bit more than you realized, leaving him shifting nervously in his seat and desperate for an answer.

“Yes, Jake.” You breathed, nodding your head as a second form of reassurance. “Of course I’m going to say yes. I know I’ve been afraid, and stupid, but you are the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Being with you is the only thing that makes sense.” You explained, moving a bit closer to him in hopes he would take the hint. “I want to figure it out. I want us to work.”

Without another word, without any hesitation, he sprung forward like you had just given him the greatest gift in the entire world. His hands landed on your hips, and not long after his lips were on your own, showing you exactly how he felt about your decision. The feeling of his touch sent you spiraling, ascending to a height that only he could bring you to. His hands, warm and gentle, felt like they were burning straight through the cotton material covering your skin, leaving behind a mark to claim you as his own despite the fact you had always been his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, inviting him in and hoping he would choose to stay there forever so you would never have to suffer another minute without him.

It seemed like when he was touching you, the whole world was still; nothing else mattered, and nothing that would come after could ever compare. The only terrible part of it was the fact you could never get enough, that you couldn’t fathom the bliss coming to an end or how you could survive the loss of it. Although the two of you had grown accustomed to loss at each other's hands, it never made the hurt any easier nor the pain any less dignified.

“Jake, I need you.” You whispered, breaking from his kiss just long enough to utter the words.

Just like always, you did not have to ask him twice. Still high off the emotion-filled confessional, he stood and kicked the door shut, barely lingering to lock it before he was back by your side. His need, although unspoken, exuded from his actions and the familiar look in his eye. He had been waiting, patient and loving for you to give him permission to do the one thing he was put on earth to do.

As he climbed back on the bed, between your legs, you could not refute how innate the feeling was—nothing had ever felt so right, the weight of his body atop of yours, always secure and never intimidating. The softness of his lips against your skin, the love woven into the miniscule action enchanting and endless, reminding you of his heart and how it beat just for you. The rough calluses on his fingertips, igniting every bit of skin he touched and now, the tickle of his hair as it fell over his shoulders—all of it was a small piece of an even bigger picture, one in which you painted in your mind every night you spent without him, the bed empty yet somehow still sunken in by the weight of his memory beside you.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done. Falling was never the question, and climbing out wasn’t even a possibility. Even if you were equipped with the skills to evade it, you didn’t want to. Even when you had yourself fooled, believing you had left it behind in the little hometown that would always haunt you, it was bound to catch up to you eventually.

When his lips connected with yours again, the sweet taste of his skin against the very tip of your tongue, you wondered if he was the very thing that breathed life into you. Your heart, mending just at the thought of a future with him, your soul shining brighter and threatening to burst from under your skin as he continued to love you. Without him, survival remained, but living was always the question. How can you truly enjoy your life when you always feel like there’s a part of you missing?

The feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach, your skin aflame with his touch, the breathlessness in your lungs and the steady thud of your heart underneath your breastbone let you know that you were whole again—feeling every single sensation intensified by a million, you were living. Not waiting for the mediocre to pass you by, not gazing out into nothing and wondering if you would find something—he was there, invigorating and energizing parts inside you that you never thought would feel again, like he never even left at all.

As his hands slipped under your shirt, the slight scratch of his rough skin sending a shiver down your spine, you wondered how you ever had the ability to deny him at all. Walking away from that hotel room, leaving him behind and swallowing your sorrow may have been an act that hurt him, but you did so with the intent to keep him safe. It was never a selfish act, nor an intent to harm. You truly believed that by keeping your distance, you would protect the very heart that gave so much to you, that it would save him even more hurt in the long run. Now, feeling the emotion bleeding him dry, the beat of his heart against your own body, you saw a whole different side of the story. Leaving never protected either of you, not in the very beginning and certainly not now. Being with each other, living life alongside each other, seemed to be the only thing that would leave you both truly satisfied.

“Fuck,” you hissed through your teeth, all of the nerves in your body aflame as his palm landed over your chest, the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his touch sending electricity straight through you. Using his arm to push the fabric away from your torso, it slid upwards and bunched together around your shoulders, leaving you exposed and at his disposal.

He leaned down, his lips trailing over your stomach as he made it a point to show you just how much he held for you in his heart. Even if the intent was filthy, the act itself sinful, he treated you with care and caution, making sure you knew he would never lay a finger on you if it were for the wrong reasons. Just the same as an angry word would never pass his lips, a cruel name or even a negative thought in his head. When it came to you, love was the only thing that concerned him, and now that he had the second chance he had been waiting so patiently for he was determined to show you all of the things he was feeling.

With every kiss he placed on your skin, you felt his actions grow more careless. His tongue traced the same spots his lips once graced, and as he progressed further up your body, faint red marks remained from the suction of his cheeks, desperate to remind you of his company for days to come. Eventually, his mouth landed on your breast, his tongue grazing your hardened nipple and forcing your thighs to try and squeeze together, desperate for friction. He felt the pressure on his hips, settled carefully between them as you tried to relieve yourself without a second thought. You could feel him smile against you, only worsening the ache between your legs.

You wanted him so bad you could barely contain yourself, unable to enjoy the moment without feeling the need for more. A whine in the back of your throat only furthered his cockiness, letting him know he barely had to try to make you feel good. Every breathy moan and muffled sigh affected him, and you could feel his cock against your core, worked up just by touching you and asking for relief just at the thought of fucking you.

You slowly reached your hand between your bodies, wanting to feel him just the same as he was with you. As you palmed him through his pants, you felt his hips jut forward ever so slightly, unable to control the reaction he had to your hands on him.

“Impatient much?” He chastised you, his tone light and a small smile on his lips as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Not impatient,” you huffed, your cheeks flushed from his constant attention. “Just know what I want.” A low chuckle shook his shoulders, finding your rebuttal humorous.

“Mhm,” he hummed an agreement, looking up at you with a shine of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “And that just so happens to be… me?” His torment was getting on your nerves, making you regret speaking at all.

“Obviously, Jake. Did you really need to ask that?” You rolled your eyes, watching his gaze flicker to your shirtless chest for a moment, like he was admiring the sight and unable to look away.

“No,” he grinned. “Just like to hear you say it.” You did not have time to think too long about his words, because his mouth was back on you, and this time as he kissed, his lips traveled downwards towards your navel. As he did so, you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him any longer, too caught up in the rush of excitement that flooded your body and distracted by the thought of what was to come.

As his fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants, you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out. He barely even touched you, yet everything he was doing felt fantastic. Just him being near made you want to fall to your feet, to beg him for more, for anything he was willing to give. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him to slide your pajama bottoms and underwear down in one motion. Once he removed them from your legs, he tossed them to the floor without a single care in the world.

When his hands returned to your legs, your muscles tensed and twitched at the feeling. Slowly, he brought his lips back to your skin, grazing over the insides of your thighs. Your hands traveled downward, fingers lacing into the locks of his hair as he continued his torment.

Eventually, his mouth was hovering over your heat, a hunger in his eyes that you could not quite comprehend as you stared down at him. You could feel the arousal pooling, your need unfathomable as you understood how close you were to having him again. Despite all the heartbreak, the pain when he was gone, the minute he was in reach you were absolved of all the ailments.

Two strong hands on your hips, holding you firmly as he pulled you down on the mattress, connecting his mouth to your cunt with ease. A gasp fell from your lips, your abdomen tensing at the intensity of the feeling. His tongue settled over your entrance, savoring the taste of you for a moment.

When he began to move, slowly but intently through your folds until he landed over your clit, your hips raised off the bed to meet the time of his actions. His name, already caught in the back of your throat and stuck in your teeth as you tried to hold it back, was forcing its way out whether you wanted it to or not. He was barely tracing circles around your clit before your legs were trembling, and barely started before you felt the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Everything he did was fantastic, and it always seemed like he never even realized it.

If you had learned any lesson on your journey, it was that Jake was undoubtedly one of a kind, in a league of his own without even a thought of another contender.

“Always taste so fucking sweet, angel. Can’t believe it’s all for me.” His tone was raspy as he pulled back for just long enough to praise you, the sound washing over you as warm as summer rain.

For the briefest of moments, you were sixteen again, falling in love with him all over again and even more intensely than before. Back then, you did not know much about love or how to express it, but you always tried your best. Looking back on it, you understood that despite your lack of knowledge, you loved him better than you could ever love another, and he did the same with you. Now, you had grown and you had learned, all of the lessons you did not realize you needed to endure and all of the hardships you faced and never realized would help you in the future allowed you to love him with a whole new meaning, appreciating him for all he was and all he would be.

You were near twenty five, a quarter of a century spent fighting for happiness and figuring out what was right, finally at the destination you always knew you’d find.

You wished you could say it was only a part of you that forever belonged to Jake, even in his absence, but it was not true. All of you had always belonged to him, and trying to refute the fact was the stupidest thing you had ever done.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined, the pleasure pulsing under your skin and infiltrating your veins. He was so phenomenal that he took over every thought and emotion, burrowing into your skin and making a home in all of the places you never suspected to find him. His memory was seared into your heart, hollowing out your bones and existing within them. Everything he was doing now served only as a reminder that you would never be able to escape the love he so often threw your way.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He encouraged, his tone thick with desire as he used his thumb in place of his tongue. “You know it’s my favorite sound in the whole fucking world.” Overtaken with need, you let out a strained cry, wanting to give him anything and everything he ever asked for. He hummed against you as he traced your clit with his tongue, gentle praise to let you know how happy he was to hear it. He added his fingers to you, slowly pumping his middle and index fingers and curling them upwards in search of the spot he knew all too well.

Your hands in his hair tightened, drawing him nearer even though it was virtually impossible to do so. Your hips began a slow, steady rhythm to match the time of his tongue and hand, maximizing the pleasure he was granting you and desperate for more. The warm wetness of his tongue was divine, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second and sparing you no mercy.

The searing heat of your skin, the glisten of sweat on your forehead and the rapid rise and fall of your chest let him know he had you exactly where he wanted you, and now that he did, he would never let it slip away.

The knot in the pit of your stomach began tightening, fraying under the pressure and threatening to snap. Your heart was pounding, wildly drumming against your chest and in your throat. Your lungs were burning, unable to catch up on the air you so desperately needed. As you struggled to comprehend the intensity of the feeling, you feared for a fleeting moment in time that you might die at his hand. Then, as the thought passed you by, you understood that it would be the most blissful end you could ever imagine. To die by his touch and the last sight be his eyes, you knew there would be no better. Whatever came after, wherever you landed, the memory would allow you to flourish under any circumstances.

“Oh god, Jake.” Your words served as a warning, close to an orgasm and left without control. It never took him long to get you where he wanted you, and that day proved no different.

He hummed against you, the soft vibration only heightened the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. As your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, your hips raised from the bed to meet the time of his tongue, your body in search of something you were unsure you could handle. Without any warning, the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, leaving you unraveling beneath him, your throat aching as you cried out his name. Your mind was foggy, your thighs trembling as he held you in place, working you through the orgasm like it was his favorite pastime. He did not slow until your muscles relaxed and you were melting into the mattress below, and even when he pulled away, you knew it was not to give you any kind of break. He slid from the bed and freed himself from his pants and boxers with little effort, and before you knew it he was between your legs on his knees before you even came too, his cock resting against your entrance and his eyes fixated on your fucked-out expression. He was too desperate to wait any longer, not even long enough to fully rid himself of his clothes, but you did not mind one bit.

“Do you know how much I love you, sunshine?” He asked, anchoring his hands around your hips as he pulled you towards him. “Do you know how much you mean to me? How much this means to me?” Sliding his hands to the front of your thighs, he pushed your legs towards your stomach with his chest. “You are everything to me, Y/N. You always have been, and you always will be.” As he spoke, he pushed his hips forward, the stretch of you from his size delicious and intoxicating. “You’re home to me, Angel.”

“I do, baby.” You groaned, your head falling back on the pillows as his sweet words washed over you. “I feel the same, Jake. I always have.” You cried, feeling him withdraw and slam back into you.

Looking up at him, the overhead light highlighting the small details that drive you crazy, you noticed your previous orgasm still glistening on his chin. His pupils had engulfed his irises, blackened with lust and shining with desire. The raise of his shoulders with every heaved breath, the radiance of the little skin you could see. He was stunning, ethereal and god-like as he towered over you, and you still could not believe how lucky you were to be on the receiving end of his love.

As he fucked you, he used one hand to undo the last few buttons on his shirt, shaking it from his shoulders and tossing it lazily on the floor. The careless action sent a rush of pleasure straight to your core, making you wonder why everything he did was so fantastic, no matter what it was.

“Always feel so fucking good, sunshine.” He hummed, using his hands on your thigh to pull you down on him with every thrust of his hips. The impact made your legs feel like liquid, barely able to hold them up if not for his help. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips, making the two of you privy to another way that proved you were meant to be together. “Just like you were fucking made for me.” At that, your walls fluttered around him, pulling him in deeper in hopes to keep him there forever.

Keeping his arm hooked around your thigh, he reached between your legs and settled his thumb over your clot, tracing slow circles as he continued on his steady pace. You were a mess for him, your throat raw as you hissed obscenities through your teeth. You reached up, curling your fingers around his biceps to keep yourself steady, the pulse of the pleasure sending you off kilter. Having him so close, so entirely, was a feeling you could not get from anything else. You wanted Jake, all of him, all of the time. Being deprived of it did not seem like such a big deal in the time you spent away, but now back in his arms, you knew how detrimental the loss was.

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the familiar sensation begin to burn in your belly again. “You make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He hummed, applying a touch more pressure with his thumb. “Nobody else could make you feel like this, right?” He delivered a particularly sharp slam of his hips, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Only you, Jake. Nobody else.” You cried the agreement, wanting him to know that it was not only fact, but law. He was the only person in the entire world that could ever make you feel so good, so loved. He knew you better than anyone, and he loved you better than anything. He was in a league of his own, no contender even possible.

“And why is that, angel?” He asked, the force of his thrusts increasing, but not his speed. Every time he moved, you could feel him brush against the sensitive spot inside of you only he knew of. He was intent on driving you crazy, and he was making quick work at it. “Tell me why that is.” He ordered, his tone a bit more curt as he spoke for the second time.

“Because I’m yours,” you gasped, your hips raising to meet his when a particularly sharp pull of pleasure took hold. “I’m all yours Jake.”

“Exactly, baby.” He huffed, seemingly faltering at the sound of your words. “Because you’re all mine.” The possessiveness did nothing but further your pathetic need for him. All you had ever wanted to be was his, and knowing he wanted it just as bad was almost too much to bear.

His fingers seemed to be searing into your skin, the heat of his touch almost painful as he fucked into you, but you could not get enough of it. The marks that were destined to be left behind would remind you of him when he was on his flight back to Nashville, a gentle promise that he would be back again and the distance would not wear on his ability to love you. You felt greedy, wanting him to mark up your skin and leave his memory embedded in your soul, needed to hold on to every piece when he was far away. The thought used to scare you, worry you that in his absence, his fondness would falter. Now, you knew that would be impossible. There was no amount of distance, in this life or the next, that would lessen his love for you. He loved you the same as you loved him, and because of that, you knew it to be infinite.

“I want you to cum for me, sunshine.” He pulled you down on him again, his thumb still tracing circles as his hips moved in time. You could not verbally respond, instead feeling a guttural moan tear straight through your chest. He did not need to ask more than once, and in truth, he never needed to ask at all. You were teetering on the edge, close from the very moment he pushed inside of you, wanting nothing more than to give him anything and everything he wanted.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles tensing as you felt the fire blazing within you become too much to withstand. With one last thrust of his hips, for the second time that night he had turned you into a mess below him. As the sweet sounds fell from your lips, he reveled in the feeling, unable to express the pride he felt knowing he had such an effect on you.

“There you go, angel.” He praised your hard work, finding it difficult to hold himself back as his name was spoken so beautifully between the slur of curses. You were worse than any addiction he had ever experienced, your hold on him so strong that he would go to the ends of the earth for you. “God, you take it so fucking well.” He huffed, a groan falling from his lips as he lost his own composure.

When you came down from the high, you had no time to recover, his pace never slowing and his thumb never letting up. The sting of overstimulation began to terrorize your nerves, driving you near insanity as you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t want him to stop, willing to take every uncomfortable second if it meant he would stay right there and never leave again.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Just a little longer.” He encouraged, noticing your expression shift. “Always such a good girl for me.” You did not respond, instead feeling tears sting your eyes as the irritating feeling took over your entire body.

“Oh, fuck, Jake!” You exploded, your throat raw as you sang his name. It was like music to his ears, like it was a hymn and he was the god you prayed to. As long as he had a say, he never wanted that to change.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, his head falling back and exposing the columns of his neck. You stared up at him, wondering how you could feel something so sinful and immoral at the same time as you felt such innocent and beautiful love for the boy. Jake made you feel a million things all at once, which was part of the reason he was so fantastic. He made you feel things you weren’t even sure you could, things you did not even know existed.

“Ah, fuck.” He hissed. Then, a growl came straight from his chest, framing him closer to a wild animal than the love of your night. He withdrew his hips, then in one swift motion, got out from between your legs and slipped his arm under your waist. Easily, he flipped you onto your stomach, the suddenness taking you by surprise and quickly making you forget about the nagging overstimulation.

Within seconds, he was back on top of you, straddling your thighs as he lined himself back up with you. When he fucked into you, the tightness of your body and the size of him sent you into bliss, only furthered when his hand raised to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he gently pulled your head backwards. As his hips found a new pace, he leaned his upper half down towards you, his lips settling just over your ear as he placed a kiss to it. A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt. Instead, when he pulled your head to the side and connected your mouths, you let him drink in every pathetic whine and cry, needing him to feel it instead of hear it.

Only when he was desperate for air did he pull away, his skin burning and his eyes crazed as he looked over your expression. Your flushed cheeks and shining eyes had always been his favorite sight in the whole world, and after watching you come undone by his doing twice, he was barely hanging on to his own sanity.

“Can you give me one more, angel?” He whispered, his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. Your skin was electric, your nerves on fire and your legs trembling.

“D-don’t know, Jake.” You stuttered the response, wanting to do whatever he asked of you but feeling the tiredness set in. The rollercoaster of emotions and the surplus of pleasure had left your mind greatly depleted, your energy non-existent, and your eyelids heavy.

“You can do it, baby. Know you can, for me.” He continued, placing a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek. You nearly melted at the touch, and now that he had phrased it in such a way, you believed anything would be possible so long as the reward was his happiness. He was right—it wouldn’t take much at all to send you over the edge again, and if he continued to whisper the sweet words in your ear, you would be long gone before he even realized it.

You tried not to think about how good he felt inside of you, the stretch against him as he fucked you, how perfect his body fit against yours and how right it felt to be with him. It seemed like every time you let your mind linger on it, the pull of pleasure was too strong to resist, and you feared you might not be able to survive through another orgasm. Still, you felt it coming, your skin tingling as he continued to push you closer to it, little remorse in his heart.

“J-Jake,” you whined, your fingers gripping at the sheets as your burning cheek pressed against the pillow.

“That’s it, baby.” His tone was breathy, far away as he listened to the sound of yours. You knew him so well, even after so much time, and you could tell he wasn’t far behind you.

A particularly drawn out moan that sounded from behind you sent your body into overdrive, all of your nerves ignited with the same fire as before. Without warning, you cried out his name, your hands gripping the sheets to hold yourself steady as you felt the euphoric sensation begin to take over. This time, he couldn’t help but join you, the urge tempting him too greatly to dismiss. You felt his fingers on your skin, holding on to you just as tightly as you held the sheets, like the only grounding thing in the world was you.

Then, ever so gently, your name crossed his lips, softly and sweetly like he did not even mean to speak it aloud. The thought of you bringing him to such a state only furthered the ravenous feeling. You felt your walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he spilled his release into you. The climax was more intense than anything you had ever felt before, lasting long enough for you to beg for mercy, but you knew every second of it was meant to be cherished. Soon enough, he would be on a flight back to Nashville and you would be wishing for his company again, willing to give up everything just for a moment.

When you both came down from the high, Jake continued to rest inside of you as he gently laid atop of you, careful not to put too much weight on you but unable to resist the urge to be close with you. The warmth of his body sent you straight into bliss, your tired eyes and mind finally resting now that you were in his arms. Life felt good—it felt right. Being without him, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, always felt wrong. You were eternally grateful for his persistence and his never changing love for you. You were blessed beyond what many ever experienced from receiving his love alone.

The soft thud of his heart was soothing, his fingers mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair as he enjoyed the intimacy of the moment.

“There’s nothing else in the entire world that I want more than this, sunshine.” He whispered, his voice soft and tired. For a single moment, you felt selfish enough to want him to close his eyes and stay there with you forever, nothing to worry about other than sleep and the surplus of love in your hearts.

“Me either, Jake.” You confessed, feeling him slowly withdraw from you. He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you into him. Turning towards him with a small smile decorating your lips, you hoped he knew how true it was.

“So,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your face so he could appreciate your beauty to the fullest extent “Is that it? Are we going to make this work?” You couldn’t help but laugh, a small giggle filling the air between you.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You nodded, your heart warm and your mind at ease. “I’m sorry I was so stupid. Just didn’t want to hurt you again.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He assured you, laying forward and placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. “If that’s the case—“ a mischievous smile sent your stomach fluttering with nervousness, but it was a feeling you had grown quite used to in his company. “Would you be my girlfriend, sunshine? Again? I promise we’ll do it right this time.”

“Think that goes hand in hand with making it work, don’t you think?” You teased, raising your hand to his face. You let your thumb trail over his cheek, trying to re-familiarize yourself with all of his intricacies.

“Never hurts to ask.” He let out a small chuckle, love shining in his eyes more than ever before, if it were even possible. “Is that a yes?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to hear the words come straight from your mouth.

“Yes, Jake. I want to be your girlfriend… again.” You grinned, finding the words a bit silly considering you never once felt like you weren’t his in the first place.

Leaning forward and pulling you into a kiss, the enthusiasm in his action told you everything you needed to know about how happy he was to hear it.

As the two of you laid there, infinitely intertwined with each other in the very same bedroom it ended once before, you felt the world was beginning again—the birds were chirping, the flowers blooming, and the sun shining. The misery once housed within the walls had disappeared entirely, replaced instantly with all of the love you had held and locked up inside your heart for so long. The most precious part of it all was not the warmth within you, but the fact you knew he felt the same way, bright and shiny and new again, ready to start over and make up for the mistakes your younger selves made so long ago.

“Just because I’m leaving sunshine, doesn’t mean I want to let this go. I think you know by now, I’ll do anything to make it work. It’s gonna be hard, for a little while at least, but I promise we can figure it out.” He spoke slowly, carefully, like he was afraid to make a wrong move and ruin the progress the two of you had made. You wished you could assure him that it was alright, that you had grown up and calmed down, and that nothing could ever force you away from him again. You knew that words would not satisfy that fear, so instead you vowed to prove it to him, no matter how long it took.

“Me, too.” You hummed, your eyes heavy and ready for rest, feeling at home beside him. “Maybe back then the time was wrong, but you’re right. I found that box for a reason, and we’re here for a reason. The right decision isn’t supposed to hurt, and walking away from you hurts more than anything. I’m not letting you go again, Jake. I love you just as much as I did when I was eighteen, and I know it’s not going anywhere. No matter if you’re halfway across the world or right here beside me, this is worth fighting for.”

He did not respond, but his head on the pillow inched closer to yours, a silent show of agreement for all you had said. You had always been good at talking too much, and he was an expert in not talking enough, but it was a perfect balance for the two of you, only showcasing the million other ways the two of you equaled each other out. As silence fell between you again, comfortable and secure, you felt the heaviness of your eyes seep into your bones, weighing you down and melting you into the mattress below you. The softness of his breathing and the looseness of his arm draped over you let you know that he was succumbing to the same things, uncaring about anything in the world and just happy to be there with you.

And for the first time in a really long time, you didn’t care about a single thing, either. For the first time in a really long time, the tacky paint and the abhorrent pattern on your bedsheets, the creaky floorboards and the scent of lavender and vanilla, the chestnut dresser and the haunt of an overly familiar tune was not off putting to you—it was home again, and the credit could not go to the bones of the house, hidden behind plaster and drywall, nor the memories burrowed so deep within them or the familiarity of the place—it was because of him, the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest, loving you even amidst sleep, because it was the only thing he ever knew how to do.

If you had learned anything at all, it was that Jake always was and would forever be home to you, and that living would only ever feel right so long as he was there beside you.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake @outlinedingold

If I’m missing anyone, please please let me know! After so many months and so much mess, my docs are a nightmare and I seem to have misplaced my taglist for melodic memories. i love you all, and thanks for sticking around 🤍

[stormblessed-s]

Kaladin has been my favorite character since I read 'The Way of Kings' for the first time. He never lost his place in my heart, not even when other characters like Renarin and Jasnah were further developed as the books came out.

And the reason Kaladin has always been so dear to me is because I see so much of my own struggles on him.

When I first read 'The Way of Kings' I was in a very bad place. I had been struggling with depression and anxiety for a while and I was in that place where nothing seemed really enjoyable anymore. I had stopped watching shows, stopped writing and the few books I had been reading felt more like a chore than anything. I was just, like, going on with my life on autopilot.

And then there was Kaladin, struggling with his own demons; such a good, strong and honorable guy, fighting his own mind and feeling so empty sometimes that he couldn't move. Seeing no real purpose in anything, but still doing what he had to just because. In a way, I could see in Kaladin so much of what I was going through that I actually ached. He became my special character, then, and this never changed.

I love lots of characters in that series, I admire some others, but Kaladin? To me Kaladin is that kind of character that means so much to me that sometimes I feel as if he was a real person. He kept me company when I was in my lowest and I'm always gonna hold him dear.

[altocat]

Any hcs/thoughts on AGS dealing with depression/anxiety/burnout/etc? <3

Angeal: He mostly likes to garden or cook. Especially whenever his emotions are all over the place. Angeal likes to have quiet time to indulge his hobbies, shutting out the rest of the world and keeping to himself to enjoy a bit of peace. It helps him take his mind off of his troubles, focusing on innocent tasks he KNOWS he can accomplish in order to reaffirm his confidence in himself.

Genesis: He mostly goes out and parties, often getting very VERY drunk. Genesis struggles to control his temper whenever he feels helpless or exhausted. He often gets very angry and frustrated with himself, becoming increasingly wild or reckless just so he can take his mind off of things. It's not exactly healthy--and the second the emotions finally hit, he mostly just becomes a motionless blob on the couch scrunched beneath a blanket. After Dirge and his subsequent reemergence into the world, an older and wiser Genesis often meditates or tries deep breathing techniques to help him calm himself, working to curb his hotheaded nature.

Sephiroth: Hahahahahaha. Sephiroth doesn't deal. At ALL. With ANY of those. He just falls apart. He doesn't eat or sleep. He avoids everyone. He withdraws into himself, at times becoming nonverbal, detached from the world. His reaction is one of self-punishment, restricting himself, not meeting his own needs. Sometimes he gets more violent on the battlefield, or more prone to mental instability. And at his worst, when pushed to the absolute brink of his anguish, he explodes.

...which unfortunately bode well for the people around him. As you all well know.

[ultramaga]

Reinhart is a Christian. She practices Transcendental Meditation and is training to be a reiki healer.[43][44] Reinhart was diagnosed with depression at age 14.[45] She has also opened up about her experiences with anxiety and body dysmorphia.[46] Nothing in her life says "this is someone with opinions you should trust". She or he or whatever is obviously stark raving mad. None of the Leftists can ever decide who Trump raped. They are just certain he must have raped SOMEBODY. Meanwhile, Biden's daughter said he used to do strange things to her in the shower. The journal was suppressed, the people mentioning it were banned, it was classed as misinformation which means you can be arrested in some places - and then it was admitted that the journal was hers all along. No Leftist stood up and said this is wrong, what Biden does is sick, what he does to girls and women openly is perverted, why isn't he stopped, why are they just standing there watching him fondling children?

Instead, the #MeToo movement vanished the moment a woman accused someone on the Left.

Lili might be the best actress the Earth has ever seen. I personally don't give a shit about her. But she saw what Biden was doing, and looked the other way. And when Biden's daughter asked Lili for help, Lili looked the other way. May her life be miserable and short.

lili reinhart they could never make me hate you or even slightly dislike you 🤍

[velvetvexations]

I just saw someone say that being expected to uphold the weight of a conversation and another person being a dry responder is transmisogyny.

Have these people heard of:

Autism

Anxiety

Depression

Avoidant Personality Disorder

Dependent Personality Disorder

Schizospec disorders that may cause dry communication styles

ADHD

Dissociative disorders when they impact communication

Depressive swings in bipolar

Social awkwardness from meeting someone via a dating app

Different communication styles

This can't be a complete list, but it's not transmisogyny. Hard to communicate with someone who doesn't put in work? Yes. But it's not transmisogyny. Apparently interpersonal relationship issues are somehow systemic. It's also pretty ableist to assume that's actually bigotry and not the more likely case of just someone else having a different kind of communication than you do and not being compatible. Just communicate with people and say "I do not like having to handle most of a conversation" please people. Good example of how tumblr likes to ignore ableism or use ableism as a gateway to claim other bigotry though.

extremely funny because I'm really self-conscious about how little I can give back in a conversation and feel like people are constantly noticing and upset by it but not telling me

must just be internalized transmisogyny

[boyapologist]

everytime I have this kind of visceral and extremely specific reaction to something media related all I can't think is "I'm not autistic but I might as well be at this point" cause. jesus