#can i finally revisit my childhood?

[very-uncorrect]

THEY MIGHT BE BRINGING MCSM BACK

[melzula]

Heyaa, when the requests are open can you maybe do a princess x Zuko where the princess is always clinging to Zuko when she's cold? Just a random thought that came into my mind since Zuko is a firebender hehe :)

pairing: zuko x princess!reader

a/n: this is technically part of the fire lilies series but can also be read as a solo piece independently

summary: princess and zuko go penguin sledding

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The rush of cold wind against your cheeks is exhilarating as you glide down the snow covered hills. Your delighted laughter carries through the air and brings a smile to Zuko’s face as you enjoy a day penguin sledding out in the palace courtyards.

Being kidnapped by Gilak and having your life threatened once again had been a traumatic experience for both you and your boyfriend, so Hakoda and your mother had advised you take a much needed day off for yourself. He could handle the work of drafting plans for an eco friendly oil rig and the foreign embassies while Pakku and Katara took on the school for the time being. Though you were hesitant to take a day off knowing there was so much to be done, Zuko had been the one to finally convince you that you desperately needed a break.

Today would be his last day in the South before he had to return home, and so you figured the best way to spend your time together would be with a trip through memory lane. You hadn’t been penguin sledding together since you were kids, so it seemed like a good idea to both of you to revisit your favorite pastime from when you were children.

You slow to a stop as you reach the end of the hill and land onto the plush snow below you with a laugh. The chill of the ice sends shivers down your spine but you choose to ignore it. All the back and forth traveling you’ve been doing hasn’t allowed your body the chance to acclimate to the weather of your home yet, but you try not to let it bother you.

“Having fun?” Zuko asks with a laugh as he helps you up off the snow. You immediately cling to his figure in an attempt to steal some of his heat, prompting the Fire Lord to raise a brow as he wraps his arms around your frame. “You’re not getting cold, are you?”

“Of course not,” you scoff indignantly, though your subtle trembling says otherwise.

“Maybe we should head inside-“

“No!” You immediately cry out in protest before he can finish his sentence. “We’ve hardly just begun the day. Don’t you want to keep penguin sledding?”

“Of course I do,” he assures you with a comforting kunik, “but I worry the cold might be too much for you.

“Too much?! I’m Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, I don’t get cold.”

“Alright,” Zuko relents with a chuckle at your adamant rebuttal. For a water bender you’re surprisingly stubborn, but he loves your headstrong nature more than anything. “Let’s keep sledding.”

Your face lights up with glee when he finally relents and allows you to carefully pick up your penguin and carry him back up the hill while showering the creature with praises and pets. He’d forgotten just how much you enjoyed the activity, and it was nice to see that same smile from your childhood again. It had been years since you both went sledding, since you both were just two kids unaware of what the future held in store for you, since you both were free of fear and responsibility and hurt. The war had taken a lot from you, forced you both to grow up too fast, so he was grateful for the fact that you both could just be kids again, even if only for a day.

“Y/n,” Zuko calls as the sun begins to set and the day begins to end, “I think it’s time we head inside for dinner. Your mother said she was making five-flavor soup for us.”

“Just one more time down the hill?” You plead with your best pout, though you know it doesn’t take much to convince Zuko to give in to your requests.

“Alright, but that’s it,” he tells you with a chuckle before following you up the hill. The courtyard lanterns begin to glow beautifully below as the moon starts to overtake the sky, and you exchange playful smiles with one another before beginning your decent down the snow.

Zuko’s hair blows wildly away from his face, his grin the biggest you’ve ever seen it, and you’re so caught up in admiring him that you don’t even notice the large pile of snow you’re about to crash into.

“Princess, look out!” Zuko tries to warn you, but it’s too late. You can do nothing but pull the penguin to your chest and shield it from the impact as you collide into the snowy mound. The Fire Lord winces on your behalf before quickly rushing to your aid. The otter penguin emerges after a moment and shakes the snow off its body before waddling away, but you fail to do the same. Zuko has to dig through the slush to pull you out, and as he lifts you up and into his arms he’s able to feel just how cold to the touch you are.

“Th-Thhere’s s-snow e-every-wh-where,” you complain through chattering teeth as you wrap your arms as tightly around his neck as possible in a desperate attempt to feel his warmth.

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he comforts while carrying your trembling figure back inside the palace. If not for Zuko’s body heat, you’d surely already be feeling the effects of hypothermia taking place.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is able to swiftly make it back inside the palace and carry you through the halls towards your room. The heat of Zuko’s embrace melts the ice inside your clothes, but the dampness only seems to worsen the feeling of cold. You shiver incessantly, and he can only look on guiltily as he tries his best to ease your discomfort.

Finally, he swings the door to your bedroom open and carefully sets you back on your feet before helping you remove your heavy coat. He sets the wet material aside to dry before coming up to your trembling figure and rubbing his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to spread heat across your limbs.

“I’ll go find your mother and tell her what happened. You stay here and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold,” he advises you with a meek smile, a red blush tinting his cheeks when he realizes he probably should have phrased his sentence more delicately. Zuko presses a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to give you your privacy and shutting the door behind him.

Your skin feels like ice as you peel off the rest of your ensemble as quickly as you can. You were so used to beach days at Ember Island and swims in the lakes with your friends that you’d forgotten just how cold the water could be. Considering you grew up in the South, you’re a tad embarrassed to know how easily it gets to you now. You’d been away for so long, and even when you returned home you still found yourself venturing out often, so a part of you wondered if maybe you’d never fully readjust to the climate.

“Y/n?” A voice calls from the other side of the door followed by a gentle knock. “Zuko sent me to check on you. I have the warmest blanket I could find. May I come in?”

“Just a second, Mom,” you reply as you scramble to throw on a fresh set out of clothes and make yourself decent for visitors. After slipping into the warmest dress you can find, you open the door and allow her into your room.

“Someone got a little carried away penguin sledding, I hear,” she says with a teasing smile before draping the blanket around your shoulders. “You’re like ice! Thank spirits Zuko has that natural fire bending warmth to him or you might have frozen out there!”

“Yeah,” you murmur in agreement with a dejected frown, one that your mother notices right away.

“My little koala otter, what’s the matter?”

“I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. “I thought I’d gotten over my aversion to the cold.”

“I think anyone who managed to get snow in their clothes would be cold,” she notes with a faint smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just happy to see you having fun again. You had to grow up very fast, something your father and I should have worked harder to prevent, so it’s nice to hear your laugh again and see you sledding like you did as a little girl.”

You smile at her words before pulling her into a tight hug, hoping the action conveys all your appreciation for her. Zuko walks in then with a tray of steaming five-flavor soup and tea in the hopes it will return some of your warmth to you.

“I’ll let you both enjoy your dinner alone,” she says after removing herself from your embrace. Exiting the room, she pauses to give Zuko’s arm a light squeeze. “Make sure she stays warm.”

“Yes, Kira,” he replies with a nod before returning his attention to you. “Let’s get you settled in.”

Setting the tray aside, Zuko escorts you back to bed and tucks the blanket around your figure as best as he can with you sitting up. Once you’re comfortable, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before handing you the cup of tea. It’s the same cup from the set Iroh had gifted you some time ago, and the sight of it brings a faint smile to your face as you take in the smell of jasmine.

“You’re already starting to feel warmer,” Zuko notes pleasantly before trading your cup for the bowl of soup. “I should have warned you about that pile of snow sooner.”

“It’s okay, I don’t regret a thing. I had so much fun today, the most I’ve had in a while. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko assures you as he uses his bending to reheat your tea before it can grow cold, “the day will come where we’ll never have to be apart ever again.”

“I can’t wait,” you confess with a smile only for it to fall at the sudden sneeze that leaves you.

“I think you might be catching a cold, my love,” Zuko notes with a frown.

“Will you stay and keep me warm?” You ask with a pleading look, one that makes it impossible for him to deny your request. How could he say no to your sweet face?

Climbing into bed with you, Zuko envelops himself around your figure and allows you to steal his warmth. He’ll never get tired of being your personal heater, and he’d be happy to spend the rest of his days like this.

You’ll never reacclimatize to the cold, because no matter where you go, Zuko will always be there to bring warmth to your life.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @aerikim246 @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @rinalsword @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123

[earthnashes]

Melon didn't stand a chance.

One moment he's staring the end of their journey over the horizon, and the next he's sent plummeting into the awaiting maw of the trench he stood over by a hearty smack of a claw.

He yelps as he tumbles, twisting in the air for a heartstopping moment before his back meets a crag. Mario's cries are muted by rushing wind as he slips again, falling falling falling--

A heavy thud echoes as he collides--bounces-- off another rock face. His ears rings with the rattling in his skull---

A sharp thwack of his head hitting a jutting ledge, and suddenly Melon doesn't hear-- or feel-- much of anything the rest of the way down.

A metal tang coats his tongue red, and the sting of the air bites against his bruises.

 No weight on his back anymore-- 

Everything hurts. 

--the boy...Mario. Where's Mario? D-did he fall too--

Can't move.

--he needs to get up. His human cub, he could be hurt o-or--- get up--

Stay down.

--get up get up GET UP-- 

Melon stays down, can't muster the strength to listen to the mantra in his head. Instead, all he hears is the desperate wails of Mario, and it's enough to force his eyes open just a sliver. He blearily looks up.

At the edge of the cliff he tumbled from stands the silhouettes he can only barely make out; three huge, three smaller, all laughing and pointing and grinning toothily at the heap of him. The leader- and he must be, with how he leers cockily over the ledge-- sneers down at him.

"Thank ye for the delivery, lad! We've been lookin' all over for this little bastard," he says, and without a care he swings a hollering Mario over the ledge by the scruff. The boy twists precariously in his grip --one slip from falling-- and reaches out for Melon with terrified tears in his eyes. He wails some semblance of his name, and Melon feels his gut twist.

no

"Come now, lad, I see that long face from here; ye nothin' to worry about! Brat may've been a pain in the arse to get, but it'll be worth it in the end. Pirate's Honor: we'll take real good care of 'em," The leader gloats, ugly grin stretching wider as he flicks the boy's nose with a sharp claw. "Just like we have his snivellin' flake of a brother. They'll fetch a fine cut yet."

No no no give him back

"I reckon ye wanna say g'bye at least, aye? I could grant that much, bein' a frog of honor and wot-not." The captain holds Mario high above his head, like an angler would his prized catch, and grins down at Melon from his spot above.

"Go on then. Tell 'em 'afore I change me mind."

Something twisted and ugly clogs Melon's throat with bile and copper. He bares his teeth and tries tries tries to bark, to roar, anything to demand his human cub back to him.

GIVE HIM BACK, his mind screetches. But all that crawls out of his mouth is a rattling, broken whimper. It drags his strength with it by the scruff, spilling in a tiny puddle of spittle and grime and blood as his vision begins to waver. His eyes glaze over and fall closed against his will.

And within the canopy of booming laughs and grating cackles, the last thing Melon hear is Mario's cries.

--------------------------------------------

AND HERE IT IS.

Part 10 of Melon's Adventure, FINALLY COMPLETE, and with it Arc 1 of this story has come to a close!

I'm glad I managed to finish this arc even with it being forced into a hiatus alongside my burnout months back; I had an absolute blast revisiting my childhood and telling the story in a way I've always imagined it as a kid.

Now, given that it's been a while since the last part, I've taken the liberty to compile all of Melon's Adventure into the #melon's adventure tag for ease of access if you'd like to read it back from the beginning!

Despite this marking the end of Arc 1, I'm hoping to make this the start of me delving back into my Super Mario AU, albeit in a slightly different way. There's still plenty of stories there I'd love to share with ya'll. :>

In fact, in related news: I'm actually planning on opening an online store, and my first planned launch will be themed on Melon's Adventure! More information to come on that relatively soon as more work is done.

At any rate, I hope ya'll enjoyed this story! More to come soon! owo

[tartigglez]

Hii can I ask for husband hcs for childe, neuvillette, kaeya, albedo and kazuha?

Just general hcs on what married life with them would them would be like :)

If that's too many characters you can just do your favourites out of them-

Thank you for your time! Have a good day <3

"espousal"

・❥・i actually haven't had a second since this req was sent but i am FINALLY GETTTING IT DONE DNWOEIEOWOQWIEWO

・❥・childe, neuvillette, kaeya (separate) x gn!reader

・❥・fluff time!!!

・❥・kissy times, lots of physical touch, suggestive at times, my clingy bois!!, talk of marital issues, protective kae (my beloved), i think thats itttt! enjoyyyy!!

kaeya is a TEASE, still. he straight up never stops, even though you’ve been together for so long. He’ll do anything to make you blush and catch you off guard, for no reason other than he thinks its funny, yet adorable when you react to him. 

he loves to give massages. the intimacy of it all is so important and fulfilling to him (even though he has to keep an eye on his cryo powers the whole time to make sure his hands aren’t cold) (bless him, lil baby). sometimes if he’s doing this, he’ll give you little kisses all over, and talk about his day. other times he’ll tell you how much he loves certain parts of you, your tummy, thighs, or whatever else he’s feeling enamoured with at that particular time. other times, he’s completely silent, and just basks in the feeling of being able to be with you, soft breaths or sighs from both of you filling the air. 

at times, he can be a little overly protective of you, even if you yourself are well versed in battle. this man wants to make sure you’re safe at all costs, because he knows what it’s like to lose family. in a way, you’re most of what he has. he isn’t losing you. 

he has some weird/funny habits. poking your cheeks, accidentally staring at you, sticking his tongue out at you, or at times even gently biting you for giggles. he definitely has a playful side hidden underneath his suave façade, which only you can bring out. 

ajax always wants to keep your relationship fresh and exciting! he'll always have new date ideas, or make secret plans of where to go on your next vacation (which are revealed to you about five minutes before leaving). be it a new restaurant or a revisit of your favourite places, trust he will bring as much energy and passion as always. 

he's clingy as heck, always wants your attention and is a spam texter, one hundred percent. he has really high energy so he can sometimes take a lot of patience to deal with. defo gives you at least 10 good morning kisses before he leaves for work, and might even wake you up if you're asleep. don't punch him, he's just desperate for your (albeit sleepy) attention.

he’s learned a lot about how to navigate issues in your relationship over the span of it, and is still learning. because of his childhood he can sometimes not fully understand how you feel about certain things, but he loves you, and knows he can learn no matter how long it takes. as long as you’re willing to be patient with him, he will definitely put in all his effort for you.

if there’s one word to describe childe, its curious. he wants to know everything about what makes you tick, and this doesn’t stop even after you’re married. he can sometimes struggle to speak softly when you’re upset because he has a tendency to joke around about things quite a lot, but if you tell him that you need serious time, he will definitely provide it for you.

neuvillette definitely thrives on routine, he kisses you twice each morning. once on the forehead when you’ve both just woken up, and once on the lips before he leaves to begin his work as iudex. of course this also applies when he gets home,  but perhaps he’d rather keep those routines behind closed doors ;)

neuvillette can struggle a little sometimes, but he always tries his hardest to listen to what you said all those years ago; “i love you, if something’s wrong we’ll work through it”. when he has an issue he will first mull it over alone, before coming to you. 

he is an excellent comforter. although he doesn’t see it himself, he has an incredible ability to recognise each of the emotions displayed on your face. he knows if you’re thinking, its best to stay quiet and let you come to a conclusion before speaking any more. 

random one but he LOVES when you do his hair for him, it makes him feel so cared for and loved. he feels really relaxed when you massage his scalp for him. just gives that warm fuzzy feeling, y’know?

sometimes when you’re at home he’ll start following you around the house for no apparent reason. well, there is an apparent reason, he’ll just never admit to it- he wants a hug. you might go to your bedroom or the kitchen to look for something, and he’ll just be trailing behind, waiting for your attention. when you finally give in and wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest, he lets out a low, calming hum. he’s content.

nsfw masterlist || sfw masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 3

Source for pic

Firestarter 3

Word Count: 4300

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: Are you guys liking the story so far? I'm almost done writting it. It will be around 10 chapters, maybe 11. If you wish to be added to a tag list, say so! Thank you!

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“How was the run, bug?”

“Fine.” Grumbling, you drink a large glass of water and start biting down on an apple. “What do we need to do, today?”

Shanks sees your foul mood and deftly avoids it, enumerating all the menial tasks that need to be done. Not only on the property, but also in the house. 

“Okay, I'll take the inside of the house, you get started outside. Fair?”

Shanks nods as he reaches for his straw hat. 

“At lunch we'll discuss your surgery. I've given you enough time.” Your voice is stern and you almost sound like your mother. Shaking that thought away, you grab your supplies and get started. Cleaning the house has always allowed you time to think, and you're in desperate need of that. 

The bathrooms aren't that dirty since it's really only the two of you in the house and, surprisingly, Shanks is pretty clean. So, as you scrub the shower, you start to think about Ace. He's the epitome of the boy next door. With all the repercussions of it and all the girls that come with him as well. And despite your mind telling you constantly that you should not be with him, you can't help your body from desiring him. 

You even consider giving in to temptation and getting with him, just for fun, so you can finally get him out of your head. But that's just stupid. And counterproductive. So you scrap that thought. 

But you still revisit that ‘friends’ idea. You have fun with him and you could use some fun in your life. You just need to stop thinking about him carnally. How hard can that be, really? 

Just on cue, your phone buzzes and, after finishing the shower, you remove your gloves to read it. 

Dinner? Friends have dinner together. You both need to eat. But you have to make sure that it's nothing romantic. He needs to understand that. Or that you're not just one of his usual girls. He needs to understand that as well. Yet you seem to be taking a while to answer, so he adds another thought. 

You exchange a few more texts to get the hour and arrange to meet him since he's going to be there sometime in the afternoon. What should you wear? Well it's just a friendly hang. You don't need to wear anything special. 

Maybe you should call Nami… but that is a double-edged sword. Do you want to involve Nami in this? You know she'll be all up in your business with incessant questions and… Groaning you dial Nami's number and set it on speaker as you use your nerves to tackle the toilet. 

“Hi, girl!

“Hey, Nami, you busy?”

“Nope. It’s actually my day off, and Vivi managed to escape her City Hall duties earlier than expected, so we’re hanging.” You smile into the toilet. You had met Vivi over online calls but you had yet to meet the real thing. She is Nami's girlfriend and an angel for putting up with her fiery attitude. 

“Send her my love. Can you help me?”

“What is it, sweetheart? 

You sigh, but ultimately decide to treat this as if it was a band aid. Just rip it and scream after. 

“Well, Ace invited me to hang with him at the firehouse so he doesn't spend his shift alone. Pizza and movies.” You ignore the high pitch squeal on the other side and are already regretting all of the life-choices that led to this moment, but you continue. “It's a ‘friends’ thing!” You emphasise. “I just need to know if you have any tips on what I should wear? For a friendly hang!” You need to reinforce that notion. 

All credit where credit is due. Nami doesn't squeal anymore on the phone, though she can't quite disguise the amusement in her voice. 

“Honey, can I come over after lunch? We can choose together.”

“Oh, no, no. I can't intrude on your time with Vivi!”

Nami giggles on the other side. “I'll bring her along! And some of my clothes too… Talk later, hun!”

Crap, you shouldn't have called Nami. She's going to bring the skimpiest clothes ever. 

-*-

“That's too much, Nami!” You whine and kick the high heels away from you. “It's a friendly thing! I'm wearing sneakers! Help me out, Vivi.”

The blue-haired girl giggles and shows Nami an apologetic smile. “She wins, Nami. Simple is better in this case.”

“Fine!” Nami concedes with a pout and you sigh exasperatedly. You're tired of trying on clothes and you still need to take a bath. “But you're not passing out in thigh-high socks or shorts!” She squeaks. “I know that showing your thighs like that will drive him crazy.”

You roll your eyes at her as you set aside the chosen outfit. It's not that bad. You won, it's simple, yet cute. “I don't want to drive him crazy.”

“Sure, honey. And I don't want to earn money.” 

“Unrelated.” You bite back. 

“Still, both are untrue.” She winks as she gathers the skimpy outfits she brought while muttering that she'd make you wear them on another occasion. “What about your hair? We could-...”

“No, no! It's fine! I got it from here, Nami. Thank you so much for your help. Vivi, thank you for coming, your help was precious in handling Nami.”

She giggles and agrees. Both girls tell you to have fun tonight and Nami begs for a text with an update when you get home. Even if it's in the morning, and she double winks when you remain stoic at her joke. Before your bath, you go downstairs to accompany them and have a quick word with Shanks, who avoided surgery conversation at lunch like a professional. 

You wave the girls goodbye and then saunter to the living room, where your father is watching some sports game on TV and scowl while clearing your throat. 

“Oh, bug! The girls left? I thought you were going out for dinner?”

You blush slightly. “I am, just not with them.”

He mutes the TV to look at you with a raised brow. “Want to tell me who you're going with?” He raises his hand in the air. “Only if you want, baby, I know you're an adult now.”

“It’s just a friendly dinner. Ace wants to show me the firestation and we’re going to eat some pizza and watch some movies.” You seem to be finding it quite hard to hold your father’s stare.

“Ace?” His brows knit together but he nods. “Okay, be careful.”

Your head cocks to the side instinctively. “With what?”

“Just… it’s a dad thing, okay? Be careful!” He gets flustered and unmutes the TV but you’re still not done, so you position yourself in front of the screen on purpose. 

“The surgery, dad.”

Closing his eyes, Shanks sighs and turns off the TV. “Okay, let’s talk.”

-*-

You’re blow drying your hair after a quick shower while humming to a song. The talk with your father went as well as expected. He refused the surgery and you probed him so hard with questions that you finally understood he is simply afraid of becoming even more impaired than he already is.

You assured him that everything would be alright and that the condition his back is in is going to leave him impaired anyway and, after some coaxing and perhaps a slight hint of coercion, you managed to convince him to schedule a time with Dr. Law so he can give you both a step-by-step of the surgery, to assuage any fears you have remaining. 

You stare at the time and curse. You have about ten minutes to get ready and leave the house before you’re officially late. Finishing your hair, you apply very light makeup and then proceed to dress in the outfit that gave you a headache during the afternoon: jean shorts, thigh-high black socks, and a fitted black t-shirt with the most appropriate lettering for the occasion - ‘Firestarter’. You had almost doubled over laughing when you came across that shirt from your collection. You finish the look with your black and white sneakers and some bracelets. 

One last look in the mirror makes you shrug your arms and sigh. “It’s a friend’s thing. Stop overthinking it!” You growl to yourself and leave with a hasty step.

“Bye, dad, see you later!” You hear him rushing to the door of the living room and stare at you, his arm under his chest as if he was crossing it with his missing arm. You blush and add. “There’s lunch leftovers in the fridge if you want. Bye.”

“Bug.” You stop with the door open and turn back with a soft smile. “You look great.”

“Thanks, dad!” Your smile widens and you step out. “I really have to go, love you!”

You hear a soft ‘love you too’ before you close the door behind you. 

Luckily, your car - that’s now fixed thanks to Kid - doesn’t give you any trouble starting and you arrive at the fire station at the aforementioned time. Parking the car and taking a deep breath, you walk to the door and knock softly, phone already in hand in case he doesn’t hear you since the firestation is huge! It has three rolling garage doors for when the trucks need to exit and it looks old, its red bricks faded by the sun.

He must’ve been standing right on the other side of the door because it swings back and you are greeted by a smiling Ace.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

His smile falters as he sees you and you notice his eyes lingering on your exposed thighs. Nami was right. You want to giggle, but you remain composed. 

“Hi Ace.” Your eyes also linger on his muscular chest. You're used to seeing him without a t-shirt so you’re not quite sure why that black, fitted shirt makes him even hotter. 

“Wow.” He mutters. “You look… damn! Firestarter, indeed.” He chuckles nervously and you raise an eyebrow. Has the player run out of moves?

“Thanks.” You stand at the doorway awkwardly while he’s still hung up on how you look. It’s quite flattering, actually, and you are glad you took Nami’s advice. “Should we get inside?”

He gasps and moves away from the threshold. “Yes! Come in! I’ve already ordered the pizza, Deuce should be here any second now.” You nod and get inside while looking around. You enter some sort of reception area, so he leads you inside.

“This is the day room.” It’s a larger room with a big table, some chairs, a TV and a grey loveseat. “We’ll be watching a movie here.” He smirks as the doorbell rings. There’s a doorbell? You missed it. “Oh, it’s Deuce, I’ll be right back!”

“Wait, Ace! Let me give you some money for the pizza.”

“Are you kidding me?” He snorts. “No way.” Then he dashes through the reception room to get the pizza. You hear some sort of discussion but you can’t make out the words. You’re curious, but you don’t mean to pry since Ace acted as if he knew the pizza guy, so you entertain yourself by watching a case with old photos and trophies. 

Until you hear a hushed, ‘no, Deuce! Oh, come on!’ and a rustle of feet approaching. You turn to the door to be met with a grinning tall man with blue spiky hair and carrying two boxes of large pizza.

He chuckles and settles the pizza on the table, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi.” His grin widens and Ace enters the room with a scowl. 

“This is my idiot friend from school, Deuce. Deuce, this is…” He stammers and you take over.

“The idiot brother’s friend from school.” You tell him your name and extend your hand to shake it, but he smiles, takes your hand and places a kiss on the back, making you blush from the surprise.

“Delighted to meet you. You’re gorgeous.”

“Alright, okay, that’s enough. Bye, Deuce! Don’t you have more pizzas to deliver?” Ace grabs Deuce by the collar of his t-shirt and pulls him, making him let go of your hand.

“If you get tired of Ace, I’m great fun!” He replies, making you chuckle as Ace pulls him even harder. He’s halfway through the reception when you hear him exclaim: “You were right, Ace, this one is something!”

“Shut up, idiot!” 

The smile vanishes from your face as you stare at your reflection in the trophy case. ‘This one’ he had said. As if it’s a regular thing for Ace to bring girls to the firestation. Cute girls, apparently. Girls he actually wants to kiss. 

You sigh and shake your head as you hear his footsteps approach. No matter. You were only here for a movie and pizza. Nothing else. 

“Sorry about him. Deuce is a good friend but he’s a dick sometimes.”

You smile as Ace grabs some paper plates from one of the drawers and opens one of the pizza boxes. “Soda or beer?” 

“Soda’s fine.” You answer as he takes out two cans from the fridge. “What do you want to watch?”

Ace insists on watching a horror movie, thinking it might scare you, but turns out he’s the one doing most of the jumping. You eat three slices of pizza and Ace finishes the rest of the boxes. The man sure can eat.

Ace sits on the floor to eat the pizza, but as soon as you are both done, he climbs to the sofa, stretching as he does it to make it seem like his back hurts. You lean down, intent on removing your sneakers so you can get more comfortable on the couch when he gasps.

“What the hell is that on your arm?” He points and you eye him with a raised brow.

“What do you mean?”

“There!” He points again at your left forearm where there’s a big purplish bruise and you smile at him.

“Oh, this! It was from the other day. When I was almost hit by a car. It barely hurts.” You wave your hand dismissively but he grabs your arm to examine it closer and you clench your jaw. Why are his hands so hot?

“I did this?” He murmurs while his index finger ghosts over the bruise, creating a little trail of goosebumps.

“Well, yes, but, technically, you saved me so-...”

“I’m sorry.” He looks really apologetic, his eyes never leaving your bruised arm. The loveseat is pretty small so he’s really close to you and you can almost feel heat coming off of him. It’s not just his hand that is warm, it’s all of him. How is that possible?

“Ace, it’s okay. Really.”

He removes his eyes from the bruise and raises them to meet yours. You could close the distance between both of you with a mere blink, such is his proximity. His hands are still reaching and holding your arm, so he’s already leaning all over you and, once again, you feel some sort of magnetic pull. Some animalistic desire that makes you want to kiss him.

Your eyes dart down to his lips inadvertently, and your breathing accelerates. 

Friends, friends, friends!

Your mind keeps screaming at you, but his smell is inebriating and you want to drown in it. You want to drown in him. 

You’re just another girl. You’re just another girl.

He’s close, so close. 

The horror movie on TV unleashes a jump scare with a loud sound and this time, for the first time during the whole movie, you jump and get up abruptly. “Bathroom. I need to use the bathroom.”

Ace takes a deep breath and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s that door over there.” He points and you nod. You don’t really need to use the bathroom. But you needed to get out of his hold. Quickly. 

-*-

The mood returns to relaxed and normal when you return. You sit on the couch, having removed your sneakers, and sit with both legs bent to the side. Ace seems to find the seat small, so he stretches an arm over the back, behind you. 

The oldest trick ever. 

“So how come you still live with Mr. Garp?” You need to cut this sexual/romantic tension so, what better way to do it then by creating tension with his existing family member. 

You sense the change in his demeanour but his eyes never leave the screen. “It… just never happened.”

“Luffy and Sabo left. Is your grandpa ill?”

“No.” You sense his discomfort with the situation so you don't probe anymore. If he wants, he'll tell you about it. Which he does, after a moment. 

“I screw up a lot.” You turn to him. The seriousness in his tone conveys his real feelings and you hang on every word he's willing to give you. “I always have. I never had perfect grades, I just got by. I didn't go to college and I never joined the Marines like grandpa wanted.” He sighs and his gaze remains fixed on the TV though the ending credits have just started rolling. “I don't have any goals, I can't keep a steady relationship and, even if it looks like it, I don't have my life together. Grandpa doesn't believe I'm capable of great things. And it's true.”

Your eyes bore into his, but he doesn't turn to you. Swallowing a hard lump on your throat, you nod slowly. This man doesn't let his life move forward because he doesn't believe he is worthy of it. Garp had other plans for his grandson's life and, apparently, laid his frustrations upon Ace. Who now cannot escape this life on his own. 

“But you are capable of great things, Ace.”

He scoffs. “How do you know? I've changed! And even so, we hardly even talked before you left.” He doesn't mean to be hurtful, but it's true. 

“You're right. But here's how I remember you: A caring big brother who watched over Luffy when they got home from school and made sure he ate plenty of fruit with his snacks; A protective big brother, who caught Luffy with a broken lip and didn't rest until he found the bully and forced him to apologise; And even if it went against your aloof and bad boy persona, a loving brother who knew how to comfort and show love to a boy who needed it.”

His eyes finally turn to you. They're downcast, but you're sure he absorbed everything you said. Perhaps it is the beginning of a healing process for him. You can only hope so. 

“Thanks. I… I needed that.” He still seems lost, so you hold his hand and entwine your fingers with his, giving him some slight pats on the back of the hand. 

“Anytime you think you're not good enough or not capable… think of me, okay?” You grin and wink at him. 

Finally there's a hint of a smile on his face and that manages to warm you up. It felt nice to speak with him without him trying to escape the conversation with funny remarks. 

His thumb starts to trace gentle patterns on your hand. “I'm already thinking about you all day, what's the difference?” You want to believe him. His smile is genuine and you can almost perceive a small embarrassed look. But you can't really believe in him. The notches under his belt are too heavy to ignore. 

“I'm sure that works with all the girls.” You scoff and point your head at the TV. “Movie's over. Can you show me around?” You let go of his hand and lean down to put on your sneakers. 

“Yeah.” He replies dryly. 

-*-

He's shown you the locker rooms, the comms room, the small bedroom with two bunk beds, for when they spend the night, and now you're both standing in front of the pole. 

“Wanna do it?” He grins. “We need to get down so I can show you the truck. It's pretty cool…” He tempts you. 

“I don't know…” You eye the thing suspiciously. Technically, it's not hard. It's just sliding down. 

“I'll go first and I'll catch you if anything happens.” He assures you but you're still weary. “As much as I would love to catch you, I doubt you'll need it. You're so brave, courageous, strong-...”

“Eugh, stop that! Fine. I'll do it.” You giggle excitedly and he claps before grabbing the pole with both hands. 

“It's not rocket science. You grab, and you go down.” His voice descends as he slides down and you chuckle. Your nerves are getting the best of you. 

“Okay, okay, I got this.” You grab the pole with both hands. “Grab, and go down.” You do a little jump and squeal as you slide down. Ace is there to catch you but he was right, you don't need it. Though he still places his hands on your hips, just in case. 

“You're a natural.” His breath kisses your eyelids as you look up to meet his gaze. 

Magnets. 

But you need to reverse the polarisation. You need to be repelling, not attracting. 

“Thanks.” You whisper back. 

Reverse the poles. 

You walk away from him and act amazed at the huge space the trucks are in. It's a garage with firefighting equipment and two trucks and an ambulance. “It's huge!”

“Yeah I get that reaction a lot.” He chuckles and you can't avoid a snort. 

“You're quite cocksure.” 

“I sure am!” He keeps grinning and you laugh out loud. “Come inside.” Opening the door to one of the trucks, he, once again, sets his hands on your hips to help you up. Does he have a thing for hips? Because it sure seems like now you do! Everytime his strong hands grip you, you shudder and gasp at the feeling. It leaves you wanting more. How would his bare hands feel against your bare hips? 

Friends, damnit! Friends! 

Right. The truck! “So many buttons.”

He sits down in the driver seat and leans back. “Want to play the siren? It's quite fun!”

You look at him with half a smile, fairly tempted. “No, we shouldn't. We might give a heart attack to some senior citizens.” You grin. 

He still shows you where the button for the siren is and what the other buttons do. But after a moment in companionable silence, it's his turn to ask you a difficult question. 

“Why did you want to get married so young?”

It takes you by surprise as your face whips towards him, holding his gaze. He's serious again. “I… don't know, exactly…”

It's your turn to focus your eyes somewhere else and you choose your hands as you fidget with them. 

“It seemed like it was the right thing to do. My mom married my dad after high school. So when Ichiji proposed, I thought I should do the same.” You snort. “Look how well that worked out. To my parents and to me!”

Ace rests his head against the headrest and crosses his arms behind it, making his taut muscles bend and flex and you regret having looked, so you return your stare to your hands. Your innocent hands. 

Ace is very sinful. 

“I think it did. Both ways, actually.”

“What?”

He turns his head your way, slightly. “Clearly your parents weren't made for each other. I remember hearing them fight all the way to my house.” You can't help but agree with that. Both your parents were a lot happier and more civil with one another, actually, once they separated. “And your ex, clearly, was not meant for you. I mean… It takes a special kind of dumbass to cheat on someone like you…”

You fight against your better instincts. You should know better than to be swayed by his words. He's a player. He's got moves. He's got the right words. 

And they freaking work. 

Because you are a mess right now. Your heart keeps fluttering against your chest with all the sweet things he's saying and you've been rubbing your thighs together since he grabbed you by the hips when you descended the pole. 

Clearly you want him. You want him so badly. 

But you can't! Because you were never a girl for casual relationships and Ace doesn't do serious! He said so himself. So you sigh, do a little more rubbing and try to focus on grounding yourself. 

Off-limits. Off-limits. 

“Thank you for tonight, Ace. It was fun. I should get going.” You move so you can leave but he sets his hand on your forearm. 

“Are you leaving already? Did I do anything wrong?” Your stomach tightens and your chest aches. 

“No, Ace. You did everything right.” Leaning in, you give him a quick peck on his face. Then you turn and jump out of the truck. “I just have to go. I need to help dad, tomorrow. It's late, I'm tired.”

And you need to get away from him. 

He nods with a silly little smile on his lips. Your kiss helped make him realise he did nothing wrong. 

“Okay, sure. I'll walk you out.”

And after you gather your things from the day room, he walks you to the front door and into your car. You keep thinking that a goodnight kiss would be very nice. But you already gave him a very innocent kiss on the cheek and that should be enough. 

It's not. 

So you say another goodbye and enter the car. Your heart feels both heavy and light. It's a weird dichotomy that leaves you wanting more. Ace is fun and easy. But he's not boyfriend material. 

And you seem to have started to develop feelings for him. 

And that is not okay.

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Unknown - Ep 11 - That Scene

The opening scene of episode 11 landed differently for me than it did for others. I was going to just keep it to myself since I have a minority opinion, but when I rewatched it last night I fell even more in love with it!

The structure!! It's so good! Let me explain.

At the bottom of the stairs, Qian hesitates. He still hasn't made up his mind.

Yuan says "Do you still not get it?" He knows what Qian is feeling, even if Qian hasn't figured it out yet. So he says what he wants very clearly.

Yuan asks for permission to do 4 things:

1. Be more than just Qian's brother.

2. Be who Qian relies on when he's down.

3. Be someone Qian can talk to about anything.

4. Be with Qian for the rest of his life.

Before Qian answers, he revisits 4 sets of memories, each set answering one of Yuan's questions with a resounding YES.

After each affirmative answer, it cuts back to the sex scene to communicate that THIS is the culmination of all those yesses.

In other words, there are 4 direct questions and 4 groups of memories that hold the answers to those questions, 4 times those memories scream the answer is YES, and 4 cuts to a bit of sex.

Let's look at the groups of memories.

1. He thinks back to Yuan's words in ep 9. Does he not want Yuan? Or does he not DARE to want Yuan? And he remembers all the times he felt desire for Yuan, but suppressed it. Can he be more than just Yuan's brother? Yes.

2. He thinks back to Yuan consistently being someone Qian can rely on, all through his childhood until now. "If the world falls down, we'll hold it up together." "You won't be alone." "I like being around you." Yuan genuinely likes being around Qian and has never wanted to leave him. He's shown his commitment to Qian time and time again. Can Qian rely on Yuan when he's down? Yes.

3. He remembers how long and hard Yuan suffered while enduring one-sided love, and that Yuan chose to suffer in quiet for years rather than confess to Qian about it. But Qian knew Yuan was suffering that whole time and hated it. It broke Qian's heart to see how hard it was for Yuan. If he did likewise and didn't talk about things, he'd also break the heart of the person who loves him because of his silence. Yuan laid himself bare and told Qian everything. Can Qian reciprocate and tell Yuan about everything in his life, even the hard things? Yes.

4. He thinks about how Yuan has ALREADY built his entire life around Qian. "I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian." Memories of Yuan come like a flood, rapidly gaining momentum. Yuan has already been with Qian for most of his life, and will NOT STOP. Qian can't imagine a life without Yuan. So can Yuan be with Qian for the rest of his life? Yes.

Qian nods and says his answer aloud: You can. And then they kiss.

The sex is not the point. It's the culmination. It's all the yesses stacked on top each other until they break the last of Qian's walls. By cutting the sex so it only exists between each resounding YES, they've made it less about the action of it and more about Qian realizing that YES, they're ALREADY in love and unalterably committed to each other. Why not give in to his physical desires when the rest is so clear?

Others watched this and saw a sex scene interrupted by cumbersome flashbacks. I watched this and saw a dramatic feelings realization interrupted by snippets of quite lovely sex that drove those feelings home.

A final note: It's probably because I'm demisexual, but I am frequently unmoved by sex scenes, especially when they do not advance the plot or the character development. This onscreen scene moved me. It hit the right emotional note. It was focused primarily on Qian's pov (his face is the one the camera is focusing on). And it was artfully done, instead of merely being titillating.

I'm tagging a few people who I recall talking about this in their posts, but it's been a couple of weeks so forgive me if I leave someone out or misremember. @absolutebl @lurkingshan @bengiyo @wen-kexing-apologist @wanderlust-in-my-soul @twig-tea

[wildrangers]

I Wish You Would // William Nylander

Tropes & Topics: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, resolved angst, poor communication, angst

Word Count: 4K

{This is my submission for @typical-simplelove for The Summer Fic Exchange 2k24, organized by the amazing @wyattjohnston!)

Will checked the time on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. He knew there were hours left to go before you and your family arrived but his nerves were forcing him to watch time too closely. He’d seen your parents and brother, Ryan, numerous times over the years. You, however, he hadn’t seen or spoken to in over a decade. 

As kids, you two had been thick as thieves for the few years both of your dads played together on the Rangers. But a lot had changed since then, most of which his foolish teenage self had put into motion. Still, as Will realized how close he was to seeing you again, his heart skipped a beat while dread dropped his stomach.

Will was beyond excited for his first family skate at Madison Square Garden. He’d gone to a few games already but actually being on the ice? He was jumping out of his skin with excitement, much to his mother’s annoyance and father’s amusement. 

When his skates finally hit the ice, he slowly circled the rink, eyes wide as he took in the arena surrounding him. He was so engrossed he nearly collided with you, quickly grabbing your arms to steady you, you doing the same to him. 

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, worried he’d get in trouble. 

“Yeah, are you?” you replied and he nodded, quickly removing his hands from your shoulders. 

“I’m Y/N, who are you? You’re new.” 

“Willy.”

“That’s a silly name” you giggled and his cheeks flamed hot. 

“It is not!” he replied, frowning deeply. You simply shrugged, seemingly letting it drop.  

“Do you want to race?” you asked and he nodded, counting down only for you to jump the gun and leave on 2.

“Hey!” he shouted, annoyed, but couldn’t fight his smile at the peal of your laughter ahead of him. He quickly was catching up, convinced he’d easily lap you as the distance closed between you. Just as he was about to reach you, your legs pumped even faster somehow and you crossed the imaginary finish line, fists pumping in victory. “That doesn’t count, you cheated!” 

“If you’re embarrassed to lose to a girl, you shouldn’t have raced me.” 

“That’s not it, my sisters beat me in races all the time. It’s the cheating that makes it not count.” 

You stared him down as you caught your breath and then finally nodded. “Redo?”

“Redo.”

***

“If you sigh one more time, I’m going to push you out of this car” your brother threatened and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. 

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”

“You know how important this is to mom” he argued and you pointedly sigh again, making him groan in annoyance.

“I know, which is why I’m here.” A long comfortable silence fell, each to your own thoughts. 

“What even happened with you and Will?” he questioned quietly. When you didn’t answer he pushed on, “You never told any of us.” 

“Some things aren’t worth revisiting, Ryan.”

***

You were bouncing out of your seat in excitement as your family’s rental car rolled up the final hill before reaching the Nylander house. “Can you calm down?” Ryan groaned but you ignored him. 

Willy and you had grown close during the two years your dads played for the Rangers together. You were both fiercely competitive and obsessed with hockey which easily forged a strong bond. Willy’s dad had re-signed elsewhere during the last off-season though so you hadn’t seen him since early fall when his new team had come to the Garden. You and Will had made the most of the quick visit, skating at Central Park and eating with your families at your favorite restaurants. You hadn’t realized how much you relied on his friendship until it was gone, so you’d been looking forward to this trip to Sweden for half the season. 

“Oh there it is!” you cheered and were out of the car as soon as it was parked, despite your mom yelling to be more careful. You quickly greeted his parents and sisters as they ushered you into the house.

“Will and Alex are out back with a couple friends, we’ll come out with dinner soon” his mom informed you, sending you eagerly sprinting out the sliding glass doors. 

You quickly spotted the two blonde brothers alongside a couple of boys you didn’t know. “Hey guys!” you called and Alex greeted you with a wave and a smile. You were a little confused when Will just nodded at you without coming closer; you were used to hugging your hello’s. 

You much more slowly approached the group and were grateful when Alex opened his arms for a hug. You naturally moved to grip Willy next but he didn’t return the hug, causing you to frown at him.

“You okay?”

Yeah, I’m great, we’re just in the middle of a game. We’ll see you at dinner, yeah?” Will said, turning his back and kicking the soccer ball at his feet. 

You flinched at his coldness and Alex sent you a sympathetic frown before you turned and went inside. What changed? You knew you two weren’t chatting as much but you didn’t realize something was wrong. You feigned exhaustion from your trip and laid down in your guest bed, declining to go down for dinner.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” your mom asked, gently laying a plate on your bed and placing her hand to your forehead. 

“Yeah, I just think the travel caught up to me.”

“Will you be up for a skate after dinner? They wanted to show us their local rink.”

“Sure, yeah, I think so” you nodded, eager to have the common ground of hockey with Will again. 

As you joined the Nylanders for the drive, Alex talked your ear off but Will was distant, eyes firmly focused out the window. When you all were in the rink, skates tied tightly and beginning to warm up, you reapproached Will, easily matching his pace. “Are you mad at me or something?” you asked quietly, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop. 

“No, I’m not,” he said but didn’t say anything else.

“You’re acting weird, I don’t understand” you pushed, angry at the tears forming behind your eyes and clogging your throat. 

“We’re teenagers now, I don’t want to be hanging around a girl as a friend. It doesn’t make sense.” 

You tried to process his words but came up blank, “Will, of course we can still be friends.” You noted his flushed face and couldn’t fathom why he was avoiding you and trying to end your friendship just because you were both 13 now. You said the only thing you could think of: “Can we just race?”

“Will you leave me alone if I do?” he spat back and you shoved him, not quite playfully, with your shoulder. 

“Only if you win” you goaded and he counted down from 3 before you two were off. You’d been working hard on your skating and were pleased to find yourself in the lead. You didn’t have much size on you yet so to stay on your team’s roster, speed and skill were critical. 

As you rounded the final corner with Will close on your heels, you heard him huff in frustration before making himself even with you. You focused, pumping your legs faster, when suddenly Willy veered dangerously close to you. Without thinking, you cut away but lost your edge, flying into the boards shoulder fist. 

“Crap, are you okay?” he asked, breathless. 

“You did that on purpose you asshole!” you shrieked, quickly getting back on your feet.

“Y/N, language!” your father chastised.

“He did! You were going to lose and you went to trip me” you glared fiercely at him and he didn’t argue your point. The tense silence stretched between you and your families before Willy finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You’re pathetic, William” you spat, quickly leaving the ice, Ryan close behind.

***

As you stepped out of your rental, Will felt like he was staring at a ghost. As kids, you’d always been cute but you were stunning now. He wasn’t surprised; he recalled with embarrassment how flustered he’d felt during your first trip to Sweden. He understood now he’d had a crush on you but at the time, he just didn’t like these new uncomfortable feelings or how his friends had teased him about having a friend for a girl who wasn’t a girlfriend. 

He was so lost in his thoughts, he startled slightly when you were suddenly directly before him. “Sorry, wasn’t trying to spook you there” you said blandly, eyes cold. “Wouldn’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”

He ignored the pointed reference to his previously embarrassing actions replying, “How was your flight?” 

“It was fine, thanks” you replied, offering a smile that didn’t remotely reach your eyes. “How was your season? What year is it now in the big leagues?” 

Shame flooded his system as your words pulled another memory to mind, the last time he’d seen you before being cut completely from your life.

***

It was the final night of your family’s annual trip to Sweden. He hated these visits. They reminded him of how close you’d been and how much he’d blown your friendship up. But he didn’t know how to fix it so he kept his distance, ignoring your brother’s constant glares as you grew closer to Alex and his sisters. Since the girls were younger than you, they were absolutely obsessed, clinging to every word you said and subtly copying your mannerisms. He’d have found it endearing if it didn’t mean he’d have constant reminders of you long after you’d left the country.

Somehow, you two ended up next to one another at the restaurant but you were dutifully ignoring each other. The girls got sleepy before dessert though so Alex  offered to drive them home so your parents could enjoy the visit longer; this left you, Ryan, and him on one side of the table, deathly quiet in comparison to the uproarious conversation your parents were having. Ryan excused himself to go to the restroom and Will couldn’t stand the silence anymore. 

“So, what are your plans once you’re back home?”

“I leave for UConn in a few weeks.”

Another torturous silence descended and he filled it without thinking, “I have the draft in a couple weeks. Though that’s nothing compared to getting ready for D1 hockey” he smiled but the painful look that crossed your face stopped him in his tracks. “Hey, I didn’t mean–”

“Didn’t mean to what, William? Belittle me getting into one of the best women hockey programs in the country? Tease me since you know I’ll never be able to make an actual living as a pro?” 

“No, that’s not what I–”

“You don’t think I realized a long time ago that you won our competitions just by being a dude?” you retorted, voice quiet but filled with pain and fury as he saw tears forming in your eyes. 

“I’ve never thought of it that way, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“The mood that you’ve left us in for years now because of your childishness? Your pettiness? Well, don’t worry, you won’t have to think about dealing with me any longer.” 

“Y/N/N, wait” you begged, hand reaching for yours instinctively. You ripped it away, anger and sadness all over your face–pain that he’d inadvertently put there again. The entire table fell silent.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, William” you spat, stalking towards your brother who’d just emerged from the bathroom. “Take me home, Ry.”

***

And that had been the last time he’d ever seen you for over a decade now. He’d look at your social media occasionally before you’d privated it several years back but you’d fully shut him out that fateful evening despite remaining in contact with the rest of his family. You’d also steadfastly refused to do the family trips and while both sides were curious about what had occurred, neither of you had given details. Will’s silence on the matter was born from embarrassment; he never knew why you didn’t just throw him under the bus–he deserved it.

The dinner that evening passed smoothly, you choosing your seat as far from Will as possible. He was relieved to see your shoulders loosen and your smile grow more genuine as the evening progressed, your armor against him not keeping you from the rest of your childhood friends. 

That night, he was tossing and turning as each key moment replayed painfully in his mind. He sighed, finally rising from bed around 1AM to go outside and get some fresh air. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, curled up in a blanket, eyes focused on the dying fire before you. He tried to turn back around but bumped into the grill, causing a terrible metal ringing sound to pierce the quiet night.

He glanced your way to find your eyes firmly on him. “Were you trying to sneak away?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say sneak, I just didn’t want to bother you” he replied, cheeks warming. 

“It's your house, William.” 

“Yeah but you’re the guest” he argued and you shrugged. You two held eye contact for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I join you?”

Your only response was to slide over on the couch, making plenty of room for him to sit beside you. A silence descended but Will refused to not take this chance to fix what he could. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. For all the shit I pulled when we were kids. And I’m sorry I never apologized before now, I just didn't want to make things worse.”

You snorted, “How could things have gotten worse?”

He thought it over, “I guess I meant I didn’t want to hurt you more.” 

You finally looked at him again and he withstood your sharp eyes assessing him and his words. “Did you mean to trip me?”

“No, never” he swore, turning to face you fully. “I wanted to spook you to win, which was dirty, but I never wanted to hurt you.” 

You nodded and a brief smile crossed your mouth, “It seems silly now, we were so young.”

“Yeah but we both know it wasn’t the tripping that sealed the deal” he admitted quietly. “That was a shitty thing to say and I knew better.”

“You didn’t though” you argued and he frowned. “We weren’t adults yet, Will. You felt awkward and tried to tease me like you had when we were kids because you didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know you were salting an open wound.” 

“You did amazing at UConn” he offered and was met with a genuine smile.

“You watched?” 

“All the time” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, Will. You were important to me as a kid and those feelings never went away, there was just so much confusion and pain on top of them. I was over the moon when you got drafted to Toronto. I started and deleted like dozens of congratulations texts” you admitted and he grinned. 

“Thanks, Y/N/N” he said without thinking. “Shit, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine Willy” you said sincerely, and he froze in place as you shifted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He tentatively wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed in deeper. It felt so right to have you this close to him again. 

After a comfortable silence, he felt you yawn beside him and he gently pinched your arm. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

He felt you nod against him before moving away to stretch your arms; he followed the movement, taken by how graceful you still were all these years later. 

“Can we have a fresh start?” he requested. “I’ve missed you.”

“Fresh start” you agreed, offering your hand, which he eagerly took in his own to shake firmly. His heart stuttered when you didn’t remove it from his grasp so he gently helped you up. Hope flooded his system as your hands remained intertwined as he escorted you to your room.

At your door, you pulled him into a tight embrace. “Want to get coffee and breakfast tomorrow? Just us two?” you asked and he nodded eagerly before releasing you.

“It’s a date.”

***

You slept much better than expected and woke the next morning feeling rested and relieved. You were glad Will had found you the night before and hopeful the rift could be mended. 

He’d hurt you as a kid, there was no denying that. But as time passed, you realized that he never had ill intentions. And part of what you’d loved about him as a kid was how silly and impulsive he’d been–you just hadn’t anticipated how those same traits could cause such unintentional damage. 

As you finished fixing your hair you heard a knock on the door, “Come in!” 

Will poked his head in, “Ready to go? You look wonderful.” 

You preened at his praise, surprised and a little embarrassed that your long ago crush seemed to have not shrunk over your many years apart.

At the coffee shop, you were shocked when we remembered all your favorite Swedish pastries as he ordered for the table. You’d been too young when you’d last been together for him to know your coffee order though so you gave that yourself. 

“Thanks, Will, I appreciate it” you grinned once you two were settled with your treats. 

“I’m happy to” he smiled at you and it caused your heart to stutter slightly. He sat before you a grown man but his smile hadn’t lost its boyishness. “So, how’s life been? Your parents share the basics sometimes but I don’t really know much else.” 

You reflected on the last decade, debating what was worth mentioning. “Well, I graduated from UConn with my physical therapy and business double majors.”

“And two championships” he added and you laughed, shaking your head.

“I still can’t believe you kept tabs on my hockey like that,” you admitted.

“It was the least I could do. I always knew you were an amazing player and getting to see it play out on TV was cool, though I wish I could have been there for some of the bigger moments.” 

His admission brought tears to your eyes but you quickly blinked them away as you cleared your throat. “Thanks, Willy. I wish you’d been there too, I’ve missed you.” 

He smiled sadly at your words, “And now?”

Your anxiety spiked, dreading having to share this information. “I bounced around doing hockey PT at a few different colleges in the US before I joined the University of Toronto training staff about five years ago.” 

Silence filled the space and you forced yourself to finally meet his gaze. Pain was in his eyes but you could see he was trying to hide it. 

“That’s amazing, congratulations” he offered and you nodded your thanks. “How did I not know we’ve been in the same city all these years?”

“It’s a big city.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You sighed, nodding your agreement, “I asked everyone not to mention it to you. You were busy, I was busy, and at that point five years had passed, we weren’t friends anymore. I didn’t want to pick the scab. Plus, what would you have done if you’d known?”

“I’d have reached out as soon as I knew you were there. I just never wanted to do it over the phone but if I knew you were in Toronto? I would’ve apologized even if you never forgave me.”

His sincerity clogged your throat with emotions, “I’m sorry, I was scared.” 

“Of what?”

“Of you knowing I was there and not caring enough to reach out. To have it confirmed that our lives had separated too much to repair the gap. I mean, you play for the Leafs now, and I’m just…me.”

“Hey” he said sternly, pulling your eyes back to his face. He reached for your hand and you gladly let him run soothing circles on your palm. “You’re you, Y/N/N. Not just you. I would never have even thought to think of it the way you just did.” 

“Was that a sentence?” you teased and he threw his head back in laughter and it filled you with joy; you’d forgotten what a marvelous sound it was to experience, to cause. 

“I never claimed to be brilliant, okay?” he responded and you giggled, squeezing his hand. “When we’re both back in the city, can we please meet up? I’d love to have you at a game or just to meet my friends. That place is home now.” 

You nodded, “I’d love that…and it is for me too. This season, I’m actually doing my first year as an assistant coach.”

“Tell me everything, that’s amazing!”

And you did, words flowing easily between you now. You were both relieved and shocked that your connection, forged so many years ago and ignored for even longer, healed so quickly, so effortlessly. You’d forgotten how charming he is, how at ease he makes you feel, how much he always encouraged you. 

Before you knew it, your phone was ringing because it was well past lunch and Ryan was worried they couldn’t find you. 

“Should we head back? I know the big welcome bash is tonight.”

“Want to grab some lunch, just us first?” Will asked and you nodded eagerly, texting your brother the update before following Willy to one of his favorite spots. 

***

That night, the Nylander estate was flooded with extended family and friends. There was amazing food, plenty of booze, and music played long into the night.

“Well, now that you two are all good, can you please tell me what happened?” Ryan pushed and you shoved him with your shoulders.

“No, it makes even less sense now. It was stupid and it’s done, alright?”

“Fine, fine” he sighed dramatically and you rolled your eyes. “I’m glad you came, sis.”

“Don’t get sappy on me now” you teased and he chuckled. You heard your name called from the dance floor and you laughed at Will’s sisters motioning for you to join them. 

You easily waded into the crowd, losing yourself in the music and enjoying some of your best friends’ company–these girls were like little sisters to you. Before long, Will and Alex had joined and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but you suddenly realized how closely you were dancing with Willy.

“You look beautiful” he said directly into your ear, wanting to make sure you heard him over the music but that no one else could. 

“Thanks” you replied, feeling shy, as you ducked your head. The strand of hair that consequently fell in your face was gently brushed aside by Will’s gentle, calloused fingers. Your eyes rose to meet his as he tucked your hair behind your ears. 

His gaze was intense and you could barely breathe when his palm cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone so slowly it caused goosebumps to rise to your skin. Despite the music pounding from the speakers and the dancing bodies around you, you two stood, unmoving, staring into each other’s eyes. Your gaze dipped down to his mouth, silently begging for him to close the gap and kiss you.

A second later he did, the two of you meeting in the middle as all the tension, good and bad, was released. His lips were soft and your mouths moved together in perfect synchronicity, your movements slow as you two explored each other for the first time. When he tilted your head to get better access, you released a soft sigh that he hungrily devoured, his hands curling tighter into your hair. Your own hands settled on his chest and you allowed yourself to get lost in him, his scent surrounding you, his touch both soothing and exciting, your tongues twining harmoniously. 

The spell was broken by loud whoops and cheers from nearby and you two lurched apart, breathing heavily. Embarrassment flooded your system as you saw both sets of parents and siblings clapping and cheering you two on.

“Only took a decade and a half, you goofs!” Alex called.

“If you hurt her again you’re dead!” Ryan added.

“Guys!” you both chastised at the same time before erupting into giggles, you happily hiding your face in his chest.

Another installment of 'Taylor's incapable of writing a short fic.' I hope y'all enjoyed, especially Claudia 🫶🏻

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; depression; feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; suuuuper sore boobs; negative self-talk (stretch marks specifically); talk of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones...things get heatedddd; reader and jake are both stubborn + turned on, but can't be together and it's TOUGH; cheating; heavy petting; rubbing of bodies against each other (see: dry humping); hands on boobs oopsies (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 16.7k+

a/n: hi babes… <3 this is my personal favorite part out of the two… so, let me know how you feel… ;) love u all. busy day! i'm so sorry it's late. plz know i love you all sm <3

s/o to @joshym who is my favorite and the most wonderful encourager and sister in the entire universe. i love you more than i can say. you make life sunny and everything better <3

also, @alwaysonthemend, i love you so incredibly much and i’m so grateful for you and your unwavering support and texts that never fail to make my day <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.”

-Thomas Adams

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 25, 2022

Friendsgiving. A standing, solid tradition since the first Thanksgiving you’d spent as Josh’s friend. It had always been you, Elsie, Josh, Sam, and Daniel.

But this year, you’d be entertaining new people. One you were incredibly grateful for. Jake. And one you weren’t even slightly sure about.

Maya.

She was the last person you wanted to celebrate a holiday all about Thankfulness with. But, you had to. Stupid ass shit that you couldn’t control, so you had to just pretend to be fine with it. 

To your benefit, you had a distraction – a fantastic, welcome one in Elsie. Elsie and a morning of grocery shopping.

For Friendsgiving, in a group chat between you two and the rest of the boys, Elsie had insisted that you two be in charge of pies. So, you two were currently wandering the aisles of Walmart with Pinterest up, recipes open to several flavors of pies that Elsie had decided the two of you should make.

And the way to make homemade crust since she refused to use store bought. 

“It will be a fun thing to try,” she’d sworn, aggressively pinning a couple to your shared board.

You were the one in charge of grabbing things off the shelves, while she pushed the cart and bossed at you what to grab for each recipe. The makings for apple pie and pumpkin pie already rumbled around in the cart. So, now you were on to the final pies and their ingredients. The few cans of cherry pie filling had just landed in the cart when Elsie decided to confront you about Jake. 

“What’s going on between you and Lover Boy?” She asked, trying to sound absentminded in her question, but you knew she was not thinking of it randomly. She’d most definitely waited for a moment to hit you with the question when you were forced to respond. 

And, you were. You were currently completely stranded at a Walmart with only her and one car to get you back to the apartment. There was no escaping the question. So, you decided to do what you could and only answer halfway.

“Well, he knows,” you started, grabbing a bag of sugar off the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “And things are going good.”

“What a vague response,” she hummed. “Why don’t you grab a couple cans of blueberry filling and hit me with full honesty.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the can and turned to face her. A blush painted your cheeks that you couldn’t avoid. “I am being honest. He knows and things are good.”

“Yeah, that answer works for a random Joe, but not your sister. I’m not here for the fucking cliff notes.”

“I don’t care what you’re ‘here for’, Elsie,” you grumbled, turning to walk ahead of her toward the flour. “And why didn’t you ask me this yesterday when we had the entire day at Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

“It didn’t really feel like the right time to ask,” she defended, pointing to a particular bag of flour, which you grabbed and put in the cart. “I also didn’t want to stop talking about the ridiculous fangirl experience because that shit was hilarious,” she paused, gasping. “Oh! Speaking of fangirls and the other guys. . . When are you planning on telling Josh? I'm dying to start planning a baby shower and I want him to help me.”

“He didn’t tell you that I told him before my first–?”

“You told him?!” She asked, astonished. The cart squeaked to a halt behind you. 

Turning around with a laugh ready at your lips, you gawked at her. “What is wrong with you, Dramatic Ass?”

“Um,” she sharply started, hand on a hip. “My sister and my boyfriend are keeping me in the dark, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Josh is busy and I’m busy,” you responded slowly. “We’re not 'keeping you in the dark'. Also, he just found out a few weeks ago. It’s not like he’s known for–.”

“A few weeks?!”

You swiveled fully around to face her completely. “Els. Josh has never been one to talk about other people and their lives to shoot the breeze. You know this. He wasn’t going to bring it up if it didn’t concern him.”

“Well, it does. It concerns both of us. Aunt and uncle? Hello?”

“It’s also just a giant ass thing that I’m sure he’s still processing,” you argued. “Give him a fucking break.”

“I’m bringing this up to him,” she stubbornly stated, huffing and everything. “I’m going to make him own up to not telling me he knew.”

“You knew and didn’t tell him,” you reminded her. 

“That’s different; you didn’t want me to tell him.”

“And what if he thought I didn’t want you guys talking about it at all? He’s very sensitive to stuff of that nature.”

“I don’t know. I’m still asking him,” she firmly stated, continuing to push the cart forward, effectively ending the conversation with her tone. 

And, much to your joy, dropping the other part of the conversation as she went on a sassy rant about something Josh had done recently that pissed her off. 

It lasted all the way home and you were damn happy. . .

Although, you did have to work a little magic to get her to stop being such an over-thinker and asshole when it came to Josh. You had to give a plentiful amount of examples as to how he was all of these amazing things wrapped in one and not the person her mind was trying to convince her that he was. 

She had trauma and abandonment issues, too. . . she just didn't always show them like you.

But. . . it made you pause. Made you think of yourself and Jake. . . . your mind went to the clouds as you thought of your feelings towards him. You were still like this as you helped her carry in groceries, and only snapped out of it when she started bossing you again. Except this time, she was annoyingly giving you jobs around the kitchen to prepare the blessed pies.

-🌼🌼🌼-  

Jake had been the main chef for Friendsgiving.

All day, the apartment smelled heavenly thanks to his wondrous cooking. He'd started way early in the morning, and had awoken you with the incredible smells. . . but you had forced yourself to lay in bed rather than going about your morning routine. Truthfully, you really hadn't had to force yourself too much as you heard Maya's voice make unwelcome waves around the apartment through your door. You weren't in the mood for any of it this morning considering last night. Last night, when you'd seen him and Maya. . . . . Yeah, you'd still been in the process of blocking that the fuck out.

So, you'd only caught a little glimpse of him buzzing around the kitchen before Elsie and Josh had shown up. At which point, Elsie had been ready to hit Wally World.

But, now that you were back, you'd noticed that he'd taken charge of a few very important tasks. He'd roasted a giant turkey in the oven, made rolls and mashed potatoes from scratch, and a delicious gravy to accompany all of his dishes. Josh had been in charge of casseroles, and the other two hooligan men had been in charge of drinks and salad (a big bag of lettuce from Walmart with a bottle of Ranch and a plastic container of cherry tomatoes). 

Maya had been in charge of nothing, claiming via Jake that she would be helping him. But all day long, she’d just sat around, looking way too stupidly pretty, and watched him cook. Lazy ass. 

While you and Elsie slaved away at dessert, thankfully Jake was done with his preparations (save for the turkey that still cooked and created the most appetizing aroma). Meaning that Maya had followed him and wasn’t looming in the background as you made pie.

Which was good because you really did not need her around you any more than she had to be.

As you made pie after pie and sat them on top of the oven to go in once the turkey came out, you filled Elsie in on everything else that had taken place in your life as of late. Told her about the emergency room visit and everything you’d found out at the E.R.; how you’d come up with a solid morning routine to attempt a healthier pregnancy; and any intricate therapy detail that came to mind. 

The boys had been sitting in the living room, playing music on a few guitars (Josh, filling up the apartment with old Elvis tunes). Then, opting to talk for the majority of the time.

So, you'd been able to gain precious time with your sister. She had encouraged you and supported you just like you knew she would. She’d also gotten onto you for not taking better care of yourself and not taking prenatal vitamins sooner.

“You fucking idiot,” she laughed, bumping your shoulder with hers as she passed you in the kitchen with the last pie. “No, but really. I’m sorry that you’d been so stressed and overwhelmed to the point of forgetting to do shit like that. I wish I’d lived closer to you for the beginning of it all.”

Your ears perked up at that. “Yeah. . . Me too,” you said slyly, considering options as they filtered through your head. “What would it take for you to move closer? I don’t want to be selfish, I just don’t want to do this without you.” 

But, after the words came out  of your mouth, you heard just how selfish they sounded. Though, thinking about her being with you for the baby had been something at the back of your mind that you’d been contemplating for weeks. It didn’t mean you needed to drop that fucking bomb on her though. . . The baby wasn’t her thoughtless decision that she needed to change her life for. . . It wasn’t fair to her. 

“I’m sorry, Els,” you slapped a hand to your forehead, shutting your eyes to avoid any further self-induced embarrassment. “I didn’t even think about that before it slipped out. You don’t have to change any—.”

“Well,” she started, coming close to you and removing your hand from your head. As she held your hand in hers, she continued speaking. You opened your eyes to her. “That was actually my thing that I was waiting to tell you. . .,” she paused, trailing off. A slow smile lit up her features as her eyes brightened. “I put in a request for an office job attached to the company I work through. An office job for a branch of the company - based here in New York. . . Told them I didn’t want to travel any longer and that I’d appreciate something steadier as life changes. . .”

Your ears filled with excited static. “What?!” You gasped, eyes lifting with hope. “What did they say?!” 

“Well, a few people talked to a few people, and the director of the program I’m in gave his permission and then recommendation to that part of the company,” she rushed out. “So, in a few months, I’ll finish out my contract for this job and be living here full time for the new one.”

There was almost no time between the moment she’d said the words and the moment you’d leapt from your spot in the kitchen to give her the tightest hug you could muster. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

She looked fucking gorgeous today. Everyday, in fact. But for the past couple of days, all I could think about was how thankful I was to have her in my life. Tis the season. No matter what, I was very thankful for her. . . For so many reasons. 

Though, the most prominent reason in my mind at the moment was how thankful I was to her for carrying our baby. So selfless and motherly and lovely. . .

So, I couldn’t help stealing repeated glances at her. I just hoped I wasn’t being too obvious. She was always beautiful, stunning—actual perfection walking—but the fact that our baby was in her belly just made matters much worse for me. She glowed in a way that she never had before. . . Drew my eye to her in a way that couldn’t be stopped.

It was wrong for me to look at her like this. I was in a serious relationship with someone else. . . I definitely shouldn’t have been eyeing her the way I was through the open layout, into the kitchen from my spot in the armchair. And especially not while I had my arm wrapped around my extremely hot girlfriend, and her nice fuckin' ass sitting halfway on my lap.

And, really. . . y/n had effectively broken—no, shattered—my heart all of those months ago in the kitchen. She shouldn't have drawn my eye to her the way she did after what she'd said. But, I really couldn't hold that against her any longer. It didn't matter as much as it once had. . . not anymore.

But, we weren’t meant to be. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted us to be. . . It seemed too difficult for the two of us to manage. And, I had Maya. . . Mayamayamaya.

I would've been lying, though, if I said she wasn’t the most incredibly created human being. She was sculpted by the gods. . . Meticulously made to ruin me. When she really shouldn't. Fuck.

And now that she held my baby. . . The way her tummy rounded out more than usual, under her sweater—that shit left me completely speechless.

The way she held pregnancy was unparalleled to every other woman that had ever done it before. She was ethereal. And as great as Maya's ass was, there was truly no comparing it to the way y/n's ass looked in those leggings I’d seen her wear no less than a million times before. . . And just like every time before, I wanted to walk up behind her and feel the curve of it. Rip them the fuck down and bend her - dammit. I was so fuckin’ weak for her.

But anytime I felt Maya move against my arm, or lap, or smelled her perfume wave off of her with an action, I was reminded of how completely wrong it was for me to be checking y/n out. It was wrong how I couldn’t get her out of my head—all the time, she was there. Even in the most intimate moments with Maya, she kept creeping the fuck into my thoughts. 

But, truly, it just happened. Couldn't control it.

And, even when I got up to check on the turkey once more, I couldn’t help my reaction when I passed her. When I'd accidentally brushed past her on her way out, the way my heart pounded in my chest as our bodies touched for a millisecond. She smelled so sweet—just like a damned sugar cookie. And the way she’d passed so delicately against me. Her top half had pressed against me for a stolen moment in time, her eyes catching mine as her precious bump skimmed my waist.

And her breasts. Felt those, too.

My chest tightened and my dick twitched—it was almost too much. The air was stolen from my lungs. 

We were so close for those few seconds.

“Sorry,” she hushed, her eyes flicking up to look at me. A small smile was sitting on her lips, more out of embarrassment than anything. Her cheeks were the prettiest pink under my gaze.

But she wasn’t the one to be embarrassed. I was the only one who should have been embarrassed — for how I was instantly a teenage boy again, just because of a little brush from her body. 

“Don’t be,” I mouthed, like we were sharing a secret. My lips lifted to reassure her and my eyes lit up with an emotion I couldn’t explain if I tried. 

Her face softened at my expression, and then she was gone. 

And once I’d gotten the turkey out of the oven, I was mostly back to normal. I’d forced myself to think about sad images of roadkill enough to ruin the mood I’d set in my head. 

After breathing a few deep breaths, I called out that dinner was ready and all I could do was hope for the best for the rest of the day. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanksgiving carried on from when lunch started at two in the afternoon, to the evening, and saw your friend group (and Maya) sitting around the living room.

You were all bouncing back and forth with the Roku remote. Rotating around your semi-circle, every person took a turn choosing a YouTube video to cast.

It had turned into a sort of game of who could play a song that meant something to someone else in the room. Jake had just had the remote, right before Elsie, and had played a song for Josh. It had been some song from Seussical The Musical, to which Josh had sung along to every word. He’d even gone so far as to get up to do a little performance of the song. 

“That’s exactly how it went,” Josh had chuckled heartily, the sound starting deep and lilting at the end. He dropped his arms from an obviously rehearsed dance routine, the song ending on a final high note. “I swear to God.”

“Oh, Joshua,” Sam’s eyes bugged as he looked at Jake with a laugh, who shared the moment of humor with him. “Trust me. We remember. Every single high school theatre production,” Sammy shook, as if reliving a traumatic memory. "All of it is seared into my poor, poor brain."

"Samuel, shut the fuck-," Josh started, before getting interrupted by his twin.

“Day in and day fucking out, Josh. That’s how often we heard those songs at home— for the months leading up to that damn musical,” Jake raised a thick brow. It made your tummy do somersaults - he was so handsome. “And I was lucky enough to hear it from backstage as crew. . . Every single rehearsal.”

“Yeah, you really fucking hated those songs,” Josh noted with a bubbling laugh, sitting back down next to Elsie, his arm falling around her shoulders. “Why would you make yourself suffer through that again?”

“Just playing the game,” Jake shrugged, rolling his eyes with a smile. He handed the remote over to Elsie, who sat on the couch, next to where he sat on the floor, in front of the couch. “But goddamn if I don’t ever hear it again, it will still be too soon.”

Sam agreed with a toast, raising his beer bottle as Jake lifted his. They nodded at each other from across the room. And you stared on, getting distracted by the woman who sat on the couch, criss-cross-applesauce, behind him, braiding his hair. 

Fuck that bitch, you thought hotly— ridiculously.

Admittedly, it took too far too long to look away from her pop-up salon. But you eventually did, and watched the screen as Elsie started typing something into the search bar. 

You knew better than to feel jealous of her. But, you couldn’t help eyeing her from your place, as you snuggled into the armchair with your favorite fluffy blanket covering you. Just wanted to let the chair swallow you, so you nestled deeper and closed your eyes to imagine it.

“This is one of y/n’s favorites,” Elsie said, the pre-video ad starting on the television. “The first time she watched this, her life changed. The perfect mix of her love for classic rock and soul music.”

Instantly, you knew exactly which song she was talking about. And when the video started, your heart expanded in your chest, making everything feel fuzzy and light. Everything felt okay. 

Change the World. . . . the Unplugged version. Eric Clapton and Babyface. . . . so many memories.

“This is our childhood,” you said, voice thick with emotion. The amount of tears you cried on a weekly basis was nothing short of humiliating. The baby hormones were vicious in their attack.

“I can’t tell you how many times we heard this as kids,” Elsie affirmed, looking over at Josh. 

“Grandpa is a strangely huge fan of Babyface,” you giggled, throat loosening a little as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “This Unplugged vinyl played on a loop for a period of time.”

“It was that year we bought it for him for Christmas,” Elsie added, agreeing. She was watching the screen with tears in her eyes, too. “But you ended up loving it so much,” she looked over to where you sat. “That the next Christmas you got your own vinyl of it. From yours truly. You're welcome." She winked, blowing a little kiss your way.

“I do take partial blame for the constant looping on the living room record player,” you smiled, winking at her. 

She winked back. “Yeah, you and Grandpa had equal hand in his Unplugged record warping on this song.”

You grinned, sticking your tongue out at her as she did the same. When Eric Clapton started singing, you gave the screen your full attention. The sound of this song only brought back the happiest memories. Even before hearing Babyface’s cover, it was a family favorite. It was a song that made you feel whole. 

It was the one song your Grandpa loved to sing to you. . . Before this version had ever come to your family’s attention. He'd sing it in those soft moments that felt like glowing rays of sun hitting your skin on a hazy summer evening.

But when your Grandpa had heard the Unplugged cover on the radio, the Earth had shifted for him. . . And even though it didn’t top your Grandpa singing it, the cover featuring Clapton held a special place in your heart with how often you’d heard it bouncing off the walls of the living room. It played so often that you associated it with some of your best days. . .

You'd still been innocent enough, still, to enjoy the world through a rose-tinted lens. And, far enough away from the trauma with your Mom that life had felt new. Ironically, the cover of the song had come around when your world was finally feeling like it had changed. It had been an intricately timed re-release of the lullaby your Grandfather had once poured over you as you’d drift to sleep on both restful and restless nights. The song felt safe – sort of like your Grandmother’s cooking felt for you. 

“You know, it’s funny,” Josh’s voice cut through your drifting thoughts. You kept watching the two men on screen, but tuned in to your best friend’s dialogue. “Jake loved this version, too. When YouTube came around, he would watch this version back to back, trying to memorize the way Babyface and Eric complimented each other on their guitars. He always wanted–.”

“To play both parts and record them on top of each other," Jake finished, watching the screen intently. You’d let your eyes wander from the screen momentarily to see his expression after hearing Josh’s story. He still looked utterly invested; just like you imagined he had looked as a kid re-watching it over and over again on YouTube. “It’s not really an intricate piece. . . I just found it at a time when I wanted to try everything I could on guitar. I knew how to play better than most 14 year olds, yes, but I still didn’t know half as much as I do now,” he explained, never looking away from the musicians. 

You saw movement at his waist, and when you looked down to observe, he seemed to be playing a guitar part in the air. And you knew if he picked up the instrument right now, he’d match one of the men in time. Whichever one he was currently studying - you couldn’t tell. 

“I don’t know why I never recorded myself playing both parts. Synced them over each other,” Jake mused, still playing in the air. “I used Garage Band like it was an addictive fucking drug–.”

“You can say that again,” Sam inserted, acting annoyed but still grinning so wide all the same. 

“But I just forgot about it, I guess,” the older, long-haired brother continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’m getting the urge to do it again now – it’s coming back strong,” he chuckled, looking down at his fingers with a brow raised–just like he’d do if he was actually playing. 

It was fucking hot to watch him play so intently with nothing there to support him. Only his mind, full of the memorized chords from years ago. And to a song that meant so much to you. 

“I’m sure the guys at the studio would let you do it with their recording equipment,” Danny offered, also watching the famed musicians with intrigue, glancing over at Jake. 

Jake sucked in a breath, dropping his air guitar before leaning back against Maya, closing his eyes and sighing with one particular scratch of her nails against his scalp as she tugged out the french braid to start another.

Gag. You could vomit at the sight of their mushy-gushy behavior.

Your hand floated to your stomach to remind yourself of one thing you had that she didn’t. 

“Nah,” Jake sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like it has to be done without the expensive stuff. It has to be recorded in a way that baby Jake would have recorded it. . . I just–,” He wrinkled a brow, releasing a grumble under his breath.

There was something he was concerned about. . .

And, as he sat back up to watch the men finish out the song, Maya made a little huffing noise, crossing her arms over her impressive chest. But, in all of her perfection, she covered the noise with a small smile and a shake of her head. Just seemed to be joking with her little bratty act.

Oh, how cute and funny.

She’d looked over at Sammy, who’d made a little sound at Jake’s words. You followed the line of sight.

“What’s the deal, brother?” Sammy questioned, leaning forward to emphasize his care for Jake. 

“I just don’t have the time to do a little side project like that–can’t even think about prioritizing it,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair, untangling anything that resembled a braid. Maya did outwardly pout at that. She whined his name and said something about her hard work. You couldn’t help the tiny smirk that lifted your lips at the scene. You tried your best to hide it, and just focused on the screen again. “And even calling it a project sounds silly with everything else going on in life right now.”

Before you could feel too guilty for the situation under your palm that added to everything going on in his life, Josh spoke up with a giant gasp.  

“Baby Jake!” The curly-headed twin exclaimed. You all looked in his direction, equally confused with knitted brows. “That’s just it; record it like you would have back then with the intention that it’s for your baby. Something fun to do. But. . . You’ll prioritize the time if it’s for the baby. If you look at it that way, it won’t seem silly at all," he wiped his palms, arm back over Elsie as he finished with jazz hands. "Ta-da!"

As the song concluded and the next ad started (an ad for baby diapers, of all things), Maya was urgently pushing Jake out of the way, claiming she needed to pee. And as she passed between your line of sight and Jake’s, you realized you were zoning out on him when your eyes met his, just as she rounded the couch. 

He gave you a small smile, his eyes staying on yours, floating down to where your belly hid under your blanket, and then back to your face when he responded to Josh’s idea. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, Josh,” he said, gaze never once leaving yours. 

The fire that rose from the pit of your tummy, all the way to your cheeks was not a new feeling with Jake, but for some reason. . . this time, it felt unlike any time ever before. 

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Everyone had stayed, having decided to lounge on couches for the night to sleep. They were all in equally deep slumbers (save for Maya, most likely still completely awake and waiting for Jake in his bed). 

You’d all stayed up until the wee hours of the morning–much later than you had in a long time. The only way you’d been able to make it, the tiny cat naps you’d dozed in and out of. As you’d done that, everyone else had continued on with their little YouTube game. 

Now, here you were, completely exhausted, practically dragging yourself to bed, ready to sleep. Just barely managed to wash your face before Jake had hopped into the bathroom, right after you, to brush his teeth.

But before you could make it inside your room, he passed by behind you. You weren’t even looking. You’d just smelled his heavenly cologne, a favorite scent of yours (and the baby’s, apparently) flood the space around you. You knew he wasn’t actually drenched in the smell of sandalwood and vanilla, but your baby-powered-super-senses could’ve convinced you otherwise. He smelled delicious and you could easily drown in him. 

Though, instead of focusing on that, you let yourself act on something that was threatening to leave your lips. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tired brain wouldn’t let the words halt. 

“Please don’t stop pursuing your dream or any other thing just because of everything that’s happening with me and the baby,” you rushed out, peeking up through your lashes for a moment before locking eyes with your hand on the knob of your door. “I don’t want you to ever feel like this is taking up too much space in your life or causing any unnecessary stress. You can back out whenever you want if you feel like that’s what you need and I won’t be upset with you for—.”

“No,” Jake responded, soft and stern, moving to stand in front of you. You had no choice but to look up at him, he was standing so close to you. His eyes bore into yours. “I’m not going to back out. I couldn’t do that–wouldn’t ever do that. I want this. I promise. It’s everything else, I think, that’s stressful. The baby is something I get to look forward to,” he reassured, his voice wavering just enough to worry you. 

But you didn’t let it get to you. Tiredness prevailed above any doubtful emotion you could’ve mustered. You could only sleepily nod your head at his words. 

“The baby inspires me even more to make it all happen,” he rasped in a velvety tone, assuring you. After, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Your sleepy eyes slowly followed the motion. You wished it was you. “Everything else is still exciting, too. . . But it’s a lot and it gets me thinking about how different everything is about to be. It’s scary. But– it’s. . . the baby makes it all seem brighter. Better. I’m not just doing it for me anymore. Not even for my brothers. It’s for my baby,” his full lips spread into a loose, close-mouthed grin. “Our baby.”

Your tummy flip-flopped and all you wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. You felt the slightest inkling that he wanted the same, with the way he’d brought his body in front of you, closer than he needed to. But. . . you blamed it all on tiredness. There was no way you could trust yourself to make actual, coherent assumptions. You were getting carried away, and even though you wondered of the possibility that he could want it, you cut off the idea. 

Tired or not, you knew one thing. He didn’t want you. He had a girlfriend. A real relationship with a woman much more beautiful than you. So, before you could get trapped in his big, beautiful brown eyes any longer, you decided to bid him goodnight. 

Though, just as you’d opened your door to go into your room, he stopped you. “Hey, real quick,” he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, confused at the sudden stop. “Maya–um,” he shook his head, brows furrowed as he messed with his bottom lip. “She told me that she wanted me to help however I possibly could. She wants me to be attentive and helpful in any way I can be.” 

He was right there - a step away. His breath, fanning over your face. You could smell the mint of his toothpaste. “Obviously with limits,” his voice lowered a bit as his eyes peered down at you. 

What was that supposed to mean? Surely he didn’t mean. . . But, you responded the only way you could think to.

“Obviously. . .,” you trailed off, raising a brow out of complete confusion for the conversation’s direction. “I wouldn’t want you to cross any sort of boundary. You’re in a relationship with her. Not me.” 

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” he replied, voice rasping on a hitched breath. His body felt as though it was wrapped around yours in an act of protection. He’d brought his hand up, above your heads, as his body curved in towards you. After a pause, he continued. “But I don’t want to make any boundaries with the baby ever. Not at all. I want to be present. From now until always.” 

Suddenly, the moment was gone for you. There was no way he’d ever meant it as anything more. All he’d meant was you needed to remember there were boundaries. This was all about the baby. It was selfish to ever think any different. 

You knew better than to believe any different than that. Your thoughts got out of hand so damn easily these days. Why did you let them wander so far when you fucking knew better?

You backed up, your back touching the doorframe behind you. He scrunched his brows, but you weren’t sure why he was acting confused. It was late. You were definitely imagining things. He was just tired, too. . . that was all. 

“So. . .,” he cleared his throat. “Just let me know however I can help with the baby. Please.” 

“Okay,” you whispered with a quiet nod of your head.

“Okay,” he muttered with a gentle, distant grin. He nodded his head as well. And right before he opened the door to his room, his words barely touched the air as he told you goodnight. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 28, 2022

Covid. Gia had Covid.

Your heart broke for her having to deal with that absolutely terrible illness. And your nerves were climbing up the wall at not being able to see her. She wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t email her if you had questions or needed advice. But, you also knew better than to bother someone who was sick with something like Covid. 

So, you were spending the time that you would have been gearing up to go to Gia’s office, on this chilly autumn day, pacing back and forth in your living room. Cuticles thin from chewing and perspiration accumulated at your hairline and under your arms, you weren’t sure what to do. 

The idea of losing time on healing before the baby arrived was stressful to say the very least. You didn’t want to be any less of a mother than your baby deserved. He or she deserved a mentally stable mom. . . and in order to get there, you required several hours on Gia’s couch. 

All that could wave through your one-track mind was how terrible you felt for being so stressed about your healing while Gia was so sick. She was the one who needed to get healthy sooner rather than later.

You tried to remember the words Gia had put at the tail end of the email she had sent. She’d put in a few words that reminded you how well she knew you.

Don’t stress too much about the session being cancelled. :) Things happen and we have plenty of time, y/n.

Those words, typed specifically to assure you. Except, you’d worked yourself up too much for it to work very well after you’d read the title line of her email. Just a few, simple words: Out Sick – Sorry!

If even Gia’s words weren’t helping to calm your nerves, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through to the next appointment.

After an hour of feeling unsure about literally everything, you decided the only way you were going to make it was by doing some other form of self care. And the first thing that came to your mind was food. Food always sounded good these days (nausea taking a backseat thanks to your meds and second trimester), and it would help you feel better while also supporting the baby’s health in the womb.

But it took you no time to get sad because you didn’t know what kind of food you wanted. . .

You’d resolved to just not being able to win at life for the day when you heard the front door jingle on the other side with the sound of a key unlocking. 

Jake was home. Fuck. He was home to take you to therapy and you hadn’t even thought to text him and tell him– shit. Instead of doing what he would have rather been doing, he’d made a useless trip home. 

It didn’t take him long at all to notice you sulking next to the window, face-palming next to the it, where you’d been people watching minutes ago, from your vantage point a few stories up. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, concerned, as he came right up beside you. “What’s going on?”

Whenever you looked up from having your eyes pressed into your hand, you refocused your eyes on his worried ones. “I don’t have counseling today,” you sullenly stated. And rather than going into any more details, you just apologized. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There was no point in you coming home.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he calmly reassured. Again, you found his line of sight. His eyes felt like the sweetest reassurance. “You look like you could use someone to talk to.”

“Don’t waste your time on me,” you waved him off, scrunching your brows in an effort to seem nonchalant. “Just go back to doing what you were doing.”

“Well, I don’t have any plans because I was planning on being with you all night,” he laughed just a bit, under his breath. He flicked at the tip of his nose with a pointer finger. 

“All night?” Your stomach swirled at the thought, but you also felt incredible guilt at stealing that time from him. “God, I’m so sorry, Jake.”

“Please don’t be.” It was his turn to wave you off while shaking his head. He swept a hand through his hair. “I’m glad I was here– glad that I am here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. There wasn’t anything you two could do that wouldn’t get completely awkward after a while. Right? It was only four o’clock and he planned on spending the rest of the evening with you? What were you going to–?

“What do you want to do?” He asked, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Wanna stay here? Order in? Go out and do something?”

Going out sounded like a date. . . and that felt wrong to do. But you also absolutely despised the idea of staying inside of the apartment to wallow for a second longer. . . . 

And it didn’t take you very long to realize you were still wanting food, hunger starting to feel like empty weight in your rounded tummy. 

“Food?”

“Food,” he agreed with a grin, winking at you before turning around, effectively making your brain turn to complete mush as you grabbed your own jacket and followed him out the door. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The night was one of the best you’d had in a while.

He’d taken you to get Panera. Weird, yes, but their tomato basil soup had been calling your name the second it’d come to mind, as you'd searched places to eat.

And after sitting across from each other and just talking about his budding career and your classes, at Panera Bread. . . he'd told you he wanted to take you somewhere special. And, just as the sun was setting, you’d pulled up to a Barnes & Noble on your side of Brooklyn.

“Tell me why you’re stressed,” he’d said, putting his car in park.

A used, four-door (hard top, thankfully) Jeep. An all-black, mid-thousands model. After riding around in it all evening, you’d noticed it rode really well. It was just slightly strange that he had a car. He hadn’t had one when you’d been. . .

You cleared your throat, back on the subject at hand. “I never said I was stressed,” you stated, feeling ready to combat the truth. For whatever stupid reason. 

“You didn’t have to say it,” he breathed deeply through his nose, turning down the classic rock station he’d been playing. “I know you.”

Deciding it wasn’t worth a debate (because it was the truth–you had been very stressed earlier), you sighed; running a hand through your loose, natural waves, you responded. “Well, I’m just. . . this therapy is for me, yes, sure. But it really is mostly for the baby,” you explained. He sighed and you placed the hand you’d combed through your hair on your rounded bump, covered by your favorite oversized sweatshirt. “And having one session lost that I can’t be working on getting healed for the baby stressed me the fuck out. Still kind of is,” you admitted, glancing out of the small, rectangular windshield. “I just want to be completely better by the time the baby is here.”

“What are you most worried about?” He softly pondered, prompting you to talk through it. 

“That I’ll be just like my mom and project my hurt onto my baby,” you said wetly, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “I have so much in me that I don’t understand and it scares me how much I don’t remember – can’t remember,” you blinked to allow the new tear to make its way down your cheek before quickly reaching to wipe it away. “And it scares the shit out of me. It makes me. . . this terrible person to other people. I need to understand all of me, so my baby gets the best parts of me.” Sniffling, you swiped at your cheeks to rid yourself of the few more tears that cascaded down your cheeks. “And I don’t even remember the last time I saw those best parts. . . . so if I can’t see,” you huffed, your eyes finally piercing his, which stayed on you, intently listening “H-how is my child going to see them?”

Jake hummed, rubbed his chin. He never took his deep-set, amber-brown irises from yours. “It’s funny,” he started, a little grin ghosting over his lips as he spoke, “I’m seeing those best parts of you right now. I see those 'best parts of you' quite often.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you unzipped and reached into your belt bag for your heart monitor phone, willing it to not go off. There were butterflies wreaking havoc in your tummy. Naturally, your hands found their way to your tummy. His eyes followed that particular movement.

“How do you–?” You sniffed, shaking your head, zipping your bag back after a moment. “How do you see those things? I haven’t seen them since before you came into my li–- for a long time. And never consistently. . .,” you rambled, eyebrows drawn together, thumbs rubbing circles over the tight bump. “I’ve always been a bit of a wild card with my emotions. And finding out more of what I'd done from Elsie. . . I'm just way too similar to my–.”

“Do you think she was as self aware as you are?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly. You would go with no, but. . . “I don’t know her well enough to make that judgment.”

“Okay,” he nodded, sticking his bottom lip out. A grin found its way to his plush lips, looking so kissable in the cramped space of the car. You leaned further into the door so as to not tempt yourself of anything. He continued, “Well, I would say she probably wasn’t. Or else you wouldn’t be wracked with so much significant trauma. She wouldn’t have left you hanging with so much to deal with. . . she would have been there for you. Helped you because she would've wanted to help herself. Would've been self aware enough for that,” he emphasized. “Parents say stupid shit. They do stupid shit. They’re humans. What matters is how they ultimately react.”

“But I react so brashly, Jake,” you argued, needing to be heard. “What happens if I do that to our–?”

“You won’t. I know you won’t,” he consoled you, his eyes so earnest as he conveyed the words. “You struggle with saying stupid shit. I do, too. So does everyone. You’ll figure out how to handle situations better, but it won’t be as hard as you think,” he shook his head, taking the keys from the ignition. “Not for you. You are determined. And you’re not this monster you’ve made up in your head.”

“Well, –,” you started, interrupting him, only to be cut off. 

“And your best parts are too many to name right now,” he surmised, winking at you once more. You rubbed wider, nervous circles on your tummy. “But one of my favorites is your determination to help others. The way you care for others. And if a mother has those qualities,” he pointed a finger at your tummy, and trailed the finger up to point at your face. “She will be one helluva fantastic mother. I’m glad our baby will have you.”

“Thank you,” you replied after the words had actually cracked the surface of your mental warfare. No voice appeared to combat what he’d said, so you let them sink, all the way down into your brain to truly consider for later. You didn’t fight them. . . which you viewed as progress. “Thank you so much. I–I needed to hear those things. And you were the perfect person to hear them from,” you blushed, crinkling your nose with the words. A smile settled on your lips, eyes drying. “Because I know you’re going to be the best daddy to this baby. I’ve known it for a long time. . . So, it means a lot that you think the same. Seriously.”

“Of course I think so,” he smiled, glancing once more at your tummy. “And the way you're always holding our baby. . . you love her so, so much. You’re already so intentional about loving her.”

“Her?” You asked aloud, wondering why he’d chosen that gender. Your hands held tighter to your tummy at the assumption. “Why girl?”

He hummed, looking out the windshield, past your head, with a wide grin. “It just feels right,” he concluded, before motioning at the windshield, nodding towards it. “Look.”

You did as he said, turning to see a mother and son (presumably) traipsing up to the store, just past the nearest cart corral. The little boy was skipping, and the mother was watching her like the entire world started and stopped with the child. The sky was bluer because he was around. You felt that. 

“The way you’re watching them says enough, honey,” he concurred. There was that nickname again. . . Honey. Your heart skipped a beat at the term. “I see it all over you. You’re going to mess up. Parents do. My parents did a lot and I still think they’ve been the best parents.” When he gave a small, breathy laugh, you looked his way. He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “But what good parents do after they mess up is– they have humility and apologize. They show integrity to their child. You do that. Already. For me.”

Sitting across from him in the still air of the Jeep, you let your eyes bounce back and forth between his. His smell, warm, sweet, and woodsy, was enveloping every sense of your body, in the taut air of the vehicle. His breathing laced with yours, your heaving chest kept up with the rhythm of his. He was steadier than you. . . he seemed fine. 

You felt anything but. Your emotions were going haywire at everything he’d just said. The man he was to you. . . he was too good to be true. 

But, instead of letting yourself get sad that he wasn't yours, you looked at the store behind you and cleared your throat. It opened up your mind and the air in the car. He blinked a few times, tilting his head slightly, watching you. 

“Wondering why we’re here?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I thought– let’s get out,” he said, pausing the conversation to unload from the Jeep. You followed his lead, taking the tall step as gracefully as you could to get down and out. The slip almost happened–but didn’t. Thank god. 

Joining him at the back of the car, you waited for him to lead the way and continue. You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body, over the sweatshirt. There was a bite in the air that hadn’t been there before. Jake tightened his jacket, too, tucking his hands in the pockets of it. “I brought us here because I knew you were stressed. I knew it probably had to do with the baby,” he started, looking down at you. You felt his stare, looking up to meet it. “So I thought maybe coming here to get some books to study and prepare would help you feel more at peace about whatever was on your mind,” he drew in a breath before blowing it out into the cold, dry air. “And now that I know it had to do with preparedness, this was kind of–.”

“Perfect,” you finished, nudging him with your shoulder. 

He looked down for a second, his eyes read an unknown emotion before he kept on. “I know you probably have a lot of books already, but–.”

“There’s no such thing as too many,” you replied, leading the way through the automatic doors. 

“Precisely,” he agreed, coming to a stop as soon as the two of you had entered. Raising a brow, he looked down at you before throwing a thumb over to the in-store coffee house. “Want something?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you responded with a light smile, walking toward the smell of comforting coffee and cakes. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

He’d footed the bill the whole night. . . including the surplus of books from Barnes & Noble. It had been a hefty bill, but he’d refused to let you pay. He had convinced you it was part of co-parenting – sharing purchases. And this was one of his first purchases to make for the baby.

“This was a good idea,” you mentioned at the end of the evening, juggling your one bag of books that you’d insisted Jake let you carry (the lightest one, after compromise) as you led the way up the stairs of your complex. “Focusing on other ways we can prepare for the baby, rather than worrying about what we can’t control.”

“I have a decent idea every now and then,” he chuckled, out of breath as he handled the bulk. 

Once you made it to the door, you unlocked it for the two of you.

And, for a moment, it felt so domestic.

It felt like a dream you shouldn’t dream. Arriving home after a big shopping run, walking through the door together as you laughed at the heaviness of bags and discussed a few of the books you’d chosen.

And as you made your way through the door finally, it broke your heart to see the night go. He wasn’t necessarily acting ready to end it, but the impending ending made your stomach turn. You wanted this for longer. 

He was going on and on about all of the things he’d researched as of late concerning babies and pregnancy and everything in between. You decided on grabbing a Canada Dry from the fridge, letting him sort the books on the counter into categories as he kept conversation easily.

Every now and then, you offered a small response to show you were listening, but otherwise, you let him talk. You loved listening to him talk about all of this. 

It made your heart feel ten times bigger. Though, as you took a sip of your ginger ale, watching him sort the books, your heart began to sink instead. 

You couldn’t help how much you adored his desire to learn about all things ‘baby’. He was already so good at his job as dad.

The way you’d felt all night–so peaceful with him. . . you knew it was good for you. He was literally your mental safe place (you hadn’t told him that though. Absolutely not). But. . . you knew it couldn’t go past the feeling of good friendship. Co-parenthood.

The unfortunate part, though, was that you really felt unable to stop the way you were feeling for him. It felt new and familiar all at once.

Though, you knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way. You shouldn’t.

But with the way his eyes lit up when you looked up at him again, after staring at your feet in your whirlwind of contemplation, you knew you were doomed. 

There was no stopping the way that you felt about him. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

One morning at the very end of November, you woke up with a cold. A terrible one. The same cold that every other person in your classes was seeming to come down with. Theo had been gone with it all week, and you saw him more frequently than not to study. You’d decided on one or two days a week after class. There were also the few people who sat around you in class, who’d come down with it.

So, it was due time for you. 

Normally, you would have tried to make it through the day. But, you’d done enough reading to learn that coming down with a serious infection like the flu or Covid could lead to a baby’s fetal development getting stunted. So, you played it safe and decided to stay home until you felt better.  

You had called in to work that morning. And just after that, you’d emailed the professor you had that day to let  him know. Everyone you had spoken to was understanding, luckily, which helped you to sleep very peacefully. You only hoped that the extra sleep wasn’t just helpful to you, but also–mostly–to the baby.

Sleeping off the sick seemed the best option. You hadn’t really had the mental energy that morning to look into safe medicine to take for colds during pregnancy. So, sleeping it was.

Your colds were always intense–all of your sicknesses were. When you got sick, it never failed to knock you on your ass. So instead of stressing over it all that morning, you’d chosen sleep as the easier route.

You had been hoping that you’d wake up from a long nap feeling refreshed and better. . .but. . . you were not so lucky.

When your eyes fluttered open for the second time that day to find what was left of the evening sun peeking through your curtains, you officially knew it was time to figure something out. Your eyes were burning–hurt to open. There was an ache settled firmly in every bone in your body–weren’t sure if you were cold or hot. . . 

You were definitely sick. More than a cold. No two ways about it.

When you turned to your bedside table for a drink from your Stanley, you found your bedside table had a couple new additions since you’d fallen asleep. There was a brand new Stanley sitting next to your old one. One you’d eyed for a few minutes online a week or so ago, and then decided against due to the monstrously obnoxious size. . . 

You’d talked to Jake about it after he’d noticed your pensive face looking at your phone screen for longer than necessary. . . And now, there it sat on your white, wooden night stand. A 64 ounce, rose quartz Stanley, in all of its glory. 

And leaning against it and next to it were a concoction of helpful remedies with a couple of sticky notes to explain each of their benefits. The handwriting gave him away. Jake. In his scrawl, he detailed what to take and when, which ones you could take together. He’d even written out the link to a website talking about pregnancy-safe cold meds. There was also a fruit punch Gatorade. When you reached out, it was still cold. He’d been in recently.

Moving on from the drink and meds, you glanced at the Stanley and saw it had a sticky sitting underneath it, waiting to be read. 

Plenty of water will help you and the baby stay healthy. It was worth it 

It had perfect timing and came in the mail today of all days

:) –Jake

The note effectively had your head spinning from something other than sickness. . .his kind gesture, making your stomach do soft flips. Your hand floated to touch your tummy at the idea of him doing so sweet for you (and for the baby–his baby).

After reading his advice on what to take, you went ahead and took some Tylenol for your headache and body aches, then used a nasal spray to help loosen up whatever drainage you could. The Vicks rub he’d left had been a welcome solvent on your chest, temples, and under your nose. 

But, it didn’t take long for your stomach to start rumbling, so you took that as your sign to find something that would ease the scratch in your throat and warm you up. 

You went out to the kitchen for food, holding your brand new Stanley, taking several healthy sips of the iced water from it. When you bent down to pour food in Stevie’s dish, you realized there was already kibble in there. . . that Jake undoubtedly left for her.

You were sure your heart monitor was picking up all kinds of strange palpitations at his gestures. 

Around the time you’d noticed Stevie’s food, you went to text him to tell him thank you. Only to find he’d sent a text about twenty minutes ago saying he’d left for the night. And while it made your heart sink, you knew you had no right to feel sad about it. . . especially when he’d done so much to help you before you’d even woken from your nap. 

To add emphasis to that thought, you noticed at just the right time that he’d also left a couple Panera soups waiting on the counter for you. God. . . he was wonderful. You read the note he’d left with the two little sealed containers.

Soup is the best when you’re sick :) 

–Jake 

Your body was already hurting a little less after you’d heated and almost instantly downed one of the delicious soups. A warm shower sounded more than tempting, so you didn’t waste time throwing away your trash and making your way to grab the shower steamer pods he’d left for you on your bedside table (they were a pregnancy-safe brand, he’d assured on a sticky, which made you softly smile). 

After placing them in the heating shower to begin dissolving the comforting notes of lavender and rose, you padded back to the kitchen for your new Stanley when you noticed something on the counter.

In an arranged group on the counter sat a few books you'd bought the other night. You recognized them. They sat with a notebook, stickies, and pens. Two of the books were closed, stacked, and tabbed with stickies–all bright pinks, greens, and blues.

Though, there was one more, face up and open, as if he’d had to leave unplanned and hadn’t had time to shut it. There was a pad of stickies sitting atop the page it was opened to. A pen was on top of the pad, which, when you walked closer, realized there was plenty of Jake’s scrawl already written on it. The page had a heading that read:

Props and pillows and sleep, oh my! 

And he’d written the following on his sticky, which lay upon the page: 

–Look into pregnancy pillows for y/n

–Be patient!! 

–Do what you can to help her find the right set up for sleep or rest 

–Adhere to her sleep schedules (no loud sounds or bright lights when she’s asleep, etc) 

–She needs sufficient rest (has healthy outcomes for her and the baby)

You went to look at the cover of the book, but before you could look at it, you stopped yourself. For some reason, it felt like an invasion of his privacy. Even though he’d left it open on the counter, these were his notes, not yours.

But just before you could walk any further to the bathroom and ignore his notes, the book stacked on top of the other had a note stuck to the top of it. And, written in bold, black sharpie, were the words Remember: Do WHATEVER you can to help y/n – it’s for the BABY!

The words it’s for the baby being written with finality at the end of the statement reminded you that chances were, all of this was not really for you. . . definitely not. You didn’t deserve that from him. No, whatever was for you was done for the ultimate benefit of the baby.

All of everything he did was for the baby. All of the words of reassurance. The trip to the bookstore. Panera. The meds tonight. Taking you to counseling. . . ev-ery-thing.

And that was fine. . .

So why was a tear drawn to your eye as you sped away from the book that sat on top of the counter? And why had you felt the need to go back to your room on the way to the shower, to get the Stanley cup you’d bought yourself? Why did the thought of using the one Jake bought for you make your stomach feel all tangled and weird?

Because he doesn’t care about you, a voice nagged, reminding you. It was a familiar voice, filtering in from the dark tresses of your mind. He doesn’t care about you. This is for the baby. So if you feel like it’s for you, know it’s not. Let him help the baby. Don’t be selfish. The baby matters most. 

You couldn’t help but agree with the voice. The baby did matter most. Not you.

So, you resolutely chose to wait out the calming scent of the steamer, until it all pooled down the drain. Stepping in when the scent was gone seemed the only option, as the way the shower calmed you was only for your benefit and not necessarily the baby’s. 

Yes, it sounded fucked up and foolish in your head. But you were trying to navigate these thoughts the best you fucking could and you were grasping for something that made sense. But all you were doing was making no sense. 

God, what the fuck, y/n?

And, stupidly, for whatever fucking selfish reason (because you knew for sure you were selfish–evidence proved that), you found yourself hiccuping on tears that hurt your already-aching body, under the lukewarm spray of the shower.

He didn't truly care about you. Not really. It was all for the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Once your mind was lucid after your little cold-sickness stint, you noticed stretch marks had started showing up. One by one, they’d started becoming stark and apparent and made you feel gross. 

The creams and oils you’d ordered seemed to help the slightest bit with the new darkness of the few tiger stripe-like lines. They truly looked heinous against your otherwise unmarred skin. You’d felt insecurities really begin to kick in after you’d cried in the shower on the first day out of three of your sickness. 

During the latter three days of your cold (or whatever the hell it was), you’d sulked and avoided Jake’s help in whatever way you could. You wanted his help with the baby. Only with the baby. But the baby wasn’t there yet. 

So, you didn’t need his help. He didn’t need to care about you. Only the baby. It was common sense. And it would be fine. 

But it still made you feel oddly unwanted. The feeling didn’t matter. 

But, for you, with your utterly complicated past, feeling unwanted came hurtling towards you, without any sign of stopping.

Since you were a child, feeling unwanted in your mother’s grimy home, a whole range of other negative emotions accompanied that familiar feeling. Most call it depression. Your oldest friend.

And, it had officially lit up for this new stage of your life. Why enjoy things for too long? It wasn’t worth it. Right?

So, the way your skin was beginning to scar due to growth you absolutely couldn’t control. . . it just set misery aflame in your amped-up insecurities and dispirit. 

On the first night of December, the depressive thoughts persisted. You stood with your big sleep t-shirt tucked up under your heavy-ass boobs as you lathered your tummy up with the last oil in your new, nightly anti-stretch mark routine. As you did so, tears pooled in your eyes at the sight of yourself. 

And, seemingly out of nowhere, your thoughts picked up on a different train. . . something you hadn’t really taken time to be super upset about yet. The thought slipped in amongst the rest of your woes. 

It was the thought of being a single mother.

And while it didn’t matter and wasn’t completely true, because Jake would be there, you’d still be doing it on your own in a sense. You would be on your own. The two of you definitely weren’t together. He wouldn’t be there with you. He would just be there, doing his own thing for the baby, with Maya by his side. (Nausea crept up at her name alone. Gag.)

You were going to be a single mother. Just like your own moth–. No. You locked eyes with yourself in the mirror, momentarily stopping the massaging of your belly. 

I will not let my mind go there, you asserted silently, staring daggers through your reflection. I am not her. I am not. I can’t be. I won’t be. What would Gia say? What would Jake say?

Amidst your crying and sorrowful thoughts, the knock on the door of the bathroom kind of spooked you. And, in the depths of your despair, you couldn’t really care fucking less who saw you right now. That was just how pitiful you felt. 

“Come in,” you said, sniffing and trying to cover the sound of tears in your voice by swallowing them. 

When the door began opening, you had to scoot over a little to let Jake in. You knew it was him. He’d been home all night with you, while Maya was busy doing whatever the hell she needed to do for her job. 

He’d spent a couple hours catching up on New Girl with you and it had been nice. Except, anytime you thought about how it wasn’t really for your benefit and rather him just being your friend for the baby. . . It just wasn't the same.

“You okay?” He carefully pondered, coming to stand slightly behind you in the mirror.

But, as soon as he appeared next to you and saw your current state of dress, his eyes went immediately to your bare tummy. He stayed trained on the bump that continued to grow, day by day. Still not huge, but definitely not small.

Insecurities were instantly blossoming at his stare. He was not looking away for anything, lost in a trance. He was probably in shock at just how big your belly had gotten, compared to the last time he’d seen you like this. Chances were, he was repulsed by what he saw. 

You effectively decided the stretch marks had been tended to enough for the night. You went to pull your Pratt shirt over the exposed skin. But to your surprise, his hand was shooting out, around your body, just as quick, to stop you before you could pull it down too far. 

He definitely succeeded in stopping you, holding your wrist. You were in shock – skin flaming at his touch . . .felt it everywhere. 

“I want to see,” he requested, sort of breathless. What? He wanted to–? “You look–this is–.”

“Ugly? Fat? Disgust–?”

“Beautiful,” he firmly stated, his eyes finally locking with yours in the mirror at the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

His hand still held your hand over shirt, not daring to touch your belly. You couldn’t move to make the position change. The fact that he’d just called you beautiful was like a lightning bolt to your entire nervous system.

“I’m not–,” you shook your head, at a loss for words. You did not fully agree with him. Was it beautiful that you were holding the baby? Was the baby beautiful inside? Yes. But were you loving your body these days? Absolutely not. “The stretch marks. . . I’m so fucking big. . .”

“You aren’t,” he suddenly dropped his hand, and you were missing his touch as soon as it was gone. He went to lean against the bathroom counter, facing you. His eyes bounced between your belly and your eyes, settling on your irises as he continued. “You are not any of the things you called yourself. I don’t think any of those things when I see you. . . I don’t even understand how you could–,” he shook his head, blinking once before finding your eyes. “I just see a woman who is special to me. A beautiful woman who is carrying my baby.”

Carrying my baby. 

Those words. . . they did something to you. Your palms were sweaty as you held tighter to your shirt, rolled under your boobs.

“The baby is beautiful,” you concurred. And surprisingly, you didn’t trip over your words. “But I am–.”

“You are beautiful. I am talking about you right now,” he stated, with no room for disagreement in his tone. “Don’t discount that. Please.”

“Are you just saying these things because I’m carrying your baby?”

Where did that come from? Shit. Nothing like baring your most vulnerable feelings to the very person you feel most vulnerable in front of. . . 

“No,” he said without pause. He sounded sure. “You have always been beautiful. It’s just. . . enhanced now. I can’t. . .it’s hard to explain.”

You wanted to ask him to try to explain it but you didn’t.

All of a sudden, you felt confident to ask more. 

“You don’t just think so because of the baby? Do you just care about me because of the baby?”

Jesus. There it was. 

“We’ve gone over this,” he sighed, rubbing circles against his temple. He didn’t keep on with the action, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets as he found your eyes with his. 

“I know, but I just. . . I feel like I don’t matter. I mean, I really don’t right now do I?" You sarcastically laughed, eyes watering. "All I’m good for is being the big, fat incubator who hates her body and has ugly fucking stretch marks because my belly won’t slow the fuck–.”

“It’s good that it won’t slow down,” he reassured, amber-brown irises smiling with his lopsided grin. “It means the baby’s healthy and growing.”

“But you do think I’m an incubator,” you stubbornly persisted. “Didn’t say anything to argue that.” Your tone unnecessarily snipped with your next words, “Jake, you just want to help the baby. I know this. So just wait until the baby’s here. Don’t worry about me or making me feel better if you just want to help the–.”

“Where are you getting this from?”

You stared at each other for a few moments. . . . He gave you a look that told you he could see you.

“My mind is a really twisty place,” you huffed a humorless laugh, rubbing your own temples now. “It never shuts the fuck up,” you paused–didn’t want to say anything about the sticky note on the book that had spurred the thoughts. The same thoughts you’d voiced the night you’d told him. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve already been insecure about all of this shit. It’s just–.”

“I don’t view you as an incubator,” he insisted, crossing his arms, strong fingers wrapping around stronger biceps. “I view you as a brave fucking woman who is being selfless as hell. You’re growing a fucking human, y/n,” he said, grin widening. You felt your lips lift, too. He continued, “And I can’t help but be amazed by that alone every. single. day. And while that is beautiful, yes - I won’t say it isn’t because it is,” he unwaveringly asserted. 

“But. . . it’s more,” he kept on. “You’ve been this woman-the one in front of me - for a long ass time–before I ever knew you. Though, since I’ve known you, I’ve had the privilege of seeing this woman. I knew your heart right off the bat–since the day Josh told me about this girl who was letting a man she didn’t know move into her fucking home. Just because she cared about the situation. Didn't even know me," He raised a brow, lips quirking as yours did the same. “You’re selfless and–,” he paused. 

His eyes shut briefly before opening to yours. Except this time. . . they were wet with emotion. Yours were, too. Your heart was pounding and you felt warm with a blush, from your chest to your face.

“And kind. So thoughtful when you don’t need to be. You care a whole fuckin’ lot for others and sometimes it gets you in trouble because you get in your head and it hurts you,” he said, brows dipped with a shake of his head. “But the fact that your heart is the way it is in spite of everything you’ve been through–I can’t even imagine, y/n. All of that and so much fucking more makes you beautiful,” he tucked his hair behind his ears before they went back into his pockets. “So, no, it’s not just because of the baby. It’s just one more thing that makes you beautiful.”

You were utterly speechless, and you couldn’t stop the wetness in your own eyes, a tear trickling down your own cheek. . . How could he even begin to say all of those things about you when you’d been so terrible to him? Always made assumptions?

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you finally swallowed down your own tears and found the most simple words you could mutter. “Thanks, Jake,” you whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he winked. It clicked with you that you could faintly hear your heart monitor phone going off in your room. It was alerting you of unusual heart activity. No fucking wonder - with the poetry the man had just spoken. He heard it, too, apparently, brows wrinkling. “What is that sound that’s been going off for the last few–?”

“My heart monitor phone. My heart is beating really fucking hard in my chest right now and the monitor picked up on the palpitations,” you blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you finally pulled your shirt down. “I’m not used to hearing people say things like that about me. It just catches me off guard when you–,” you coughed, blinking as you located some sense. “When anyone says sweet things like that to me.”

Then, you were back in time. Yet again. On the living room floor. That day it'd rained. . . a quiet, gray morning. He'd said things so like what he'd said just now. The same day those Aretha Franklin songs had sealed a place in your heart. Well– both of your hearts, apparently. . . according to Jake at the bar.

A comfortable silence had crept over the two of you that morning, he’d so obviously been watching you– admiring you–not to be mistaken for anything else as you'd laid atop him.

His next words confirmed it. 

“Even in the grayness of this morning, you shine so bright,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “You fucking glow, y/n. You’re just brilliant.”

All you’d been able to utter was a measly, “Thank you.” The sound of tears in your throat, behind your response, had surprised you.

“Has no one ever told you?” Jake had pondered, his warm chest breathing steadily and comfortably beneath you.

You’d explained how Josh and Elsie were kind to you, but. . . “hearing you say something like that. . .,” you’d emphasized to him. “Those words. . . It just feels good. I don’t know,” you’d shaken your head, a tear falling to meet his tanned chest. “And no one has ever said those exact words to me, no.”

“You are all of that and more, my lo—,” he’d cleared his throat, stopping himself from saying a word your heart was now longing so badly to hear. “You are so many things wrapped in one, y/n. So many fantastic things.”

“Stop,” you’d sniffed, more tears falling onto his chest. “You don’t have to say things like that. I promise I’ll still want to have sex with you if you don’t,” you’d laughed, wiping your leftover tears. The words had sounded funny (true, but still funny) as they’d left your mouth. 

“I want to tell you those things,” he’d said, firm in his response. “You deserve to hear those good things. Sex or not.”

And tonight had proven that he truly meant that statement. No sex, and still. . . .

But . . . goddamn. The sex. 

With that thought in mind, you couldn’t help but watch the sway of his ass in his tight black jeans as you followed out of the bathroom behind him. You bit your lip after bidding him goodnight– only able to think of how fucking badly you missed the sex. 

“I fucking love you,” he'd once told you - on the very night that had gotten you in this predicament. “And god, do I love fucking you. . .”

Not that word. . . Where had it come from just now?!

Love. Love. Love. Love. You hardly ever thought of him saying it to you–tried not to because it hurt and you knew it wasn’t true anymore.

But when he’d said those sweet things about you being beautiful just now. . . apparently, your mind couldn't help but chant the word . . .and the sound of him saying it to you. Why?! He was just being kind.

It was so hard wanting him and not being able to have him. . . Not like you ever actually had him - but before you fucked everything up with your stupid, hurtful words.

And, god, did you still want him. 

You couldn’t have him like that – all of the reasons were plain as day. But. . . at least you still had the memories. The wonderful memories. But being pregnant made the memories so much worse. . . because one little thought of how he felt inside of you had you actually throbbing for him.

As soon as you got to your bed, you were reaching into your bedside table for your favorite little vibrating instrument. The thought of that morning. . . the idea of having your breasts pushed against his bare chest again as he told you things just like he did tonight. . . You knew it wouldn’t take long for you to be unraveling. 

Before long, you were feeling all of the tremors you craved from Jake’s mouth, from the little toy held just right against your quivering bundle of nerves. And in less than five minutes, you were  shuddering, body tensing and releasing as you breathily moaned his name into your pillow.

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 4, 2022

Your week ended with a particularly exhausting day at the Black and Gold. 

Inventory had come out of nowhere. And, with Josh busy with his new career, it was mostly on you to prepare for it.

The two other girls who worked with you couldn’t give two shits and it showed when you’d shown up for a shift after theirs. Nothing was ever prepared in the evenings or the following mornings if they were in charge—and inventory week was no exception. 

In fact, it was glaringly more obvious when it was such an important week as inventory week. 

And having to do all of that after your few solid days of feeling like complete and utter crap and while being pregnant? It had been one of the longest days you’d had in your whole life (dramatic? Maybe. But whatever.). 

And to top it all off, you’d come home to the apartment being very warm to accommodate the cooler weather outside. 

For normal people, it probably felt nice to come into the warmth. And, most likely, it would’ve felt great to you before your pregnancy.

It was just too damn hot in the apartment tonight. You’d wanted to come home and take a warm shower to wash off the day and relax your sore muscles, but the temperature of the place had you throwing that idea away real quick.

So instead, you hurriedly went about feeding Stevie before rushing to your bedroom to dig out the box fan stuffed at the top of your closet. You’d bought it the summer the A/C had let out on you and your sister, and had kept it handy ever since for fear of it happening again. 

And at this exact moment, it felt just as hot to you as it did that summer the A/C quit working.

The fan was plugged in and blowing at full blast, towards the bed, in no time. It was sitting on top of your vanity seat, pointing right at your side of the bed. The speed at which you’d gotten it situated was astounding. And your sheets were cool and crisp and tempting you to climb into them when you pulled your covers down. 

But you couldn’t climb in yet with the way your bladder was squeezing and hurting with how badly you needed to pee. You’d put it off at the B&G, ready to get home. And then you’d come home to an uncomfortably steamy apartment.

Before heading to the bathroom, you stripped completely of your tight bra (thank you, God), your stuffy sweater and your leggings. Then, changed into a thin pair of pajama shorts and the first camisole you could find in your chest of drawers. And thankfully the thin strapped shirt had no built-in bra to constrict you. 

You’d welcomed Stevie into your room, her soft purrs and shaggy fur rubbing against your ankles as you promised her of your soon arrival back. 

Finally, after peeing and washing your face, you were ready to lay right in front of that fan. 

You stopped by the kitchen to quickly grab a Stanley from the counter– to find nothing. No Stanley. Neither of them.

Shit.

Slapping your forehead, you remembered almost instantly where they still sat on the counter at the Black and Gold. Both of them. Your rush to leave and rest from your long day had prompted you to forget a couple of your most prized possessions. 

Without your go-to water tumbler, you felt naked. And even more thirsty. 

Your day had been long and hard and now you were paying for it. Ugh.

When you scanned the kitchen for a quick alternative, your eyes immediately landed on the case of waters that Jake had recently bought for rehearsals only. You didn’t give two shits. You were bound to steal one to satiate your thirst. 

The one problem was. . .

It was sitting atop the fridge. Out of your reach. And with the few inches Jake had on you, he’d stacked it up there so it would be out of the way. You remembered him saying those exact words as you eyed the package now. Hated those words. 

Because not only was it out of the way, it was out of your reach. Out of your reach when you were dying of thirst and needed a drink of water. Stat.

Without thinking of risking anything, you went to grab a table chair quickly and quietly.

You had to be quiet because Jake was home and you did not want to wake him. Not when you were in cavewoman mode. . . and especially not with the way your tits and ass were flashing in your current choice of clothing. Or with the ugly heart monitor that was attached to your chest.

So, as carefully as possible, you sat the chair next to the side of the fridge with the waters and climbed on top of the seat to grab the case of Pure Life. Briefly, you worried about handling a heavy object while pregnant, but put it to the side when you realized pregnant women all over America handled water cases like this. You were fine. 

In the lapse of time it took you to contemplate holding the waters, and getting it off the counter, you misplaced the package on the counter top. And right as you silently stepped off the chair, the waters came crashing down onto the floor of the kitchen. The harsh sound of plastic smashing against the ground, filled with several heavy bottles of water, seemed to linger in the air around you as you stood there. One foot still on the chair, one off ready to go. 

Not able to change the fact that it crashed onto the ground, you just stood there and stared at the offensive case of water for a moment and cursed it for its loudness. But before you could silently wish harm for too long, you were bending to pick it up. 

Once it had been safely placed back on the counter with careful hands, you glanced towards Jake’s room. No movement or sound from it. He probably hadn’t heard — deep in sleep. 

And then. . . Your pregnant brain was sparking to life. 

There was a fucking Brita in the fridge. Filled to the brim with ice cold water, versus the room temperature water in the case. You’d just filled it this morning before class. And ice cold water sounded so much more appealing than lukewarm. . . 

If only you’d remembered before that you had the filtered water waiting in the pitcher. . . There wouldn’t have been a giant crash to possibly wake your roommate. 

Putting all of the irritation out of your mind, you went to grab a glass quickly from the cabinet, then hastily pried the pitcher from the refrigerator. With nervous hands, you poured until the glass was literally overflowing. 

“Shit!” You whispered at the mess, anxious to be rid of this situation. Tired and thirsty and still feeling warm even in your cami and shorts, your ears rushed with white noise.

This was not ending up like you’d planned.

The pitcher had safely found its spot back in the fridge and you were finally taking a drink from your (overfilled) glass, when you decided to multitask and grab a few paper towels to clean up the counter.

But when they wouldn’t rip off the roll, you yanked too hard. And that resulted in the water you were still drinking, to spill. It dripped down your chin, down your top mostly, and into the top of your shorts. Sensory overload was doing what it did best, overwhelming you—making you lose grip and had the glass falling from your hand and to the ground. 

That shatter was much worse than the water case falling, the shards thankfully large, but the few sparkling pieces of glass had you shushing Stevie away when she approached with curiosity. 

And if Stevie was approaching, then surely someone else had heard—

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jake hushed, his voice close behind you, sounding like it was coming from the entryway of the kitchen. 

You stilled. Of course he'd woken up. You’d made a fuck ton of noise. Real nice.

You turned on your heel, just the slightest bit, to peek over your shoulder at him. And with the luck you’d already had with the night, the action made you effectively slip from the bit of water that had made its way under your foot. 

Falling, more like—and not using the counter to catch yourself like a sane person—towards the hard ground and glass, bump—baby— first—fuckfuckfu—.

Jake’s arms immediately wrapped around you, effectively stopping your fall. He hugged you tightly to him. One arm wrapped fully around your stomach, hand secured to your side, firmly in place. And the other hand— gripping your breast. . . fully. 

He had you wrapped up in him, ass pulled into his crotch to keep you steady.

And ho-ly fuck.

Your nipple hardened instantly at the feeling of him holding your chest. You’d been waiting to feel his hand hold your sore breasts. . . And your assumption had been correct. His touch eased the pain in them, felt deliciously good—his touch didn’t hurt them like everyone else seemed to do on contact. 

But then he began moving his hands away. 

No.

“I’m sorry— I-I didn’t mean to—.”

“Stay.”

The word just slipped out as you grabbed hold of his hand, keeping it secured where he’d initially placed it, carefully situating his fingers over your nipple for the sensation you longed for. 

And when you did, he squeezed the flesh through your thin shirt. His other hand gripped your hip, exposed just a bit by your shirt – the way his fingers held you there made you fearful that he’d leave marks.

You fucking hoped so. 

And fuck, if he didn’t like it, too. You could feel it against your ass.

The way he continued to massage his other hand on your chest, wrapping his fingers securely around your breast, feeling it, told you so, too. The impulsive urge to pull down the top of your shirt and give him full access was becoming more and more appealing by the second. 

But you didn’t do it. Didn’t want to do too much and scare him away. 

You just let his arm come to rest where he apparently wanted it to, fully over the other breast. He comfortably situated his arm, rubbed a purposeful thumb over your sensitive nipple. 

“Jake,” you whispered. Couldn’t help it. He elicited this feeling. “Please.”

With your words, he pressed his front harder against your ass. God, you could feel the shape of him.

Letting the moment take over, you decided to let your body lean into his, rested against him and pushed your ass purposefully into his hardening dick. The breath he sucked in was not lost on you, and you craved hearing it again, so you repeated the action against him. 

His hand tightened around your breast, and he began massaging it as he used his grip to pull you even closer to him. His thumb moved to rub tight circles around your taut nipple. It felt so good. . . your head fell back against his shoulder, sucking in your own breath between your teeth. The way he gently kneaded the flesh in his strong grip had electricity shooting through your chest, all the way down to your toes. 

Your heart was going crazy, beating frantically, barely letting up with its assault against your chest. The feeling of him against you was enough to make you lose your breath with the way your heart was clenching in your chest, all the way up to your throat.

And then you heard a familiar, faint beeping from your bedroom.

The blessed heart monitor phone. Tracking when your heart rate would increase. The stupid phone didn’t need to tell you that it was beating hard right now. And so what if you fainted? You would do it in Jake’s arms. No better place to be. 

All you knew was that you were elated that it was still in your room – and quiet enough to the average ear that it hopefully didn’t break the air of want between you and this man you wanted so. badly. 

Jake hadn’t heard it - or didn't care to stop if he had, that much seemed to be clear.

He angled his hips, pressing so cozily into your backside. You could feel all of him – moving in slow circles, while still pressed tightly to your ass. That continued on for a while until he nudged himself, right in the middle of your ass. You felt him pulsing. Tucked into you, making your core throb even more for him.

Your nerves were on fire, and when he began rolling his hips, thrusting into your ass. . . you released the tiniest moan. It was such a small sound that you briefly thought you’d imagined it. But then the hand that had been holding your hip came to wrap around your throat briefly, and then up to your mouth. 

His breath came in hot waves against your ear, his voice gravelly with need. “It’s late. We shouldn’t make noise like that. It’s too late.”

After making his point known, his hand moved to sweep some hair over one shoulder, leaving your neck exposed for him to breathe hotly against. . . and then lick. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his wet tongue, making loose circles against your hot, sweating flesh.

“You still taste so good,” he moaned with the words, ever so quietly. “You always will–but it’s like you taste sweeter than before. I can’t even–.

But he never finished what he was saying, choosing instead to press sloppy kisses against your skin. His lips and his tongue, moving together to suck gently. 

Fuck! What had gotten into–?

Your body relaxed into him all on its own, moving near enough to him that you felt like one. 

Your ass ground against him, pressing so close. He kept with his motions as he angled his lips to hover above your bare shoulder, breath hot on your skin.

Though, his kisses stopped. But, he still released puffs of overexerted breaths, over your skin, wet from his mouth. It made your toes curl and your eyes fall closed. He didn’t give your neck any more attention as he used his position to lean up and look over the front of your body, effectively pulling you even closer to him. 

“God,” he breathed, his breath hitting from exposed shoulder, onto your collar bones. Your motions continued, but just a little slower to keep him where he was, not wanting to somehow push him away. You felt him, throbbing steadily against your ass. “You’re soaked.”

You have no idea, you silently, hotly responded, moving to rub your thighs together.

But you remembered your predicament. What he was talking about. Your clothes were completely soaked through. There had been so much water. He was talking about your clothes.

“I spilled my water,” you breathed back, so quiet. 

“I can see that. Y/n– fuck,” he rutted against your ass, his hand moving to the bottom of your full breast to hold it in a steady grip. You realized he was moving his hand to see the entire breast, your straining nipples through the soaked white fabric. “Your tits. . . they’re so fucking– Goddammit.”

“Sore,” you moaned back, your body arching in need against the hardness in his loose pajama pants. “Heavy.”

“God, I’m sor–,” he went to move his hand again. And you once again brought your hand up to stop him. 

“No, Jake,” you held his hand in a tight grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” He questioned, raspy and needy. 

Then, he was suddenly letting go of your chest to move your strap to do what you so desperately wanted.

Once it was draped over your shoulder, he moved a hand slowly over your sternum, into the front of your shirt. When he grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, you whined, knees buckling. And, finally, he pulled your breast out to touch the air. 

And just before he could hold it with the hand that was readily going to grasp it. . . his bedroom door was creaking open. 

“Jakey?” Maya’s voice rang through the apartment. “You okay?”

Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be? 

You hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of anyone taking steps towards the kitchen from the slightly creaky hallway, but you still decided you needed to get the fuck away from Jake. He was not yours.

You pulled away harshly and quickly, turning around all as you went to pull up your tank.

When you fully turned around, he was standing stock-still, watching your every move with your top, not letting his eyes fall away from your breasts. Your hard nipples. You felt the blush spread across your entire chest.

Then he bit his lip, your entire body heating at the motion, before he was responding.

You moved forward to hold his cheek, trying to wake him from the daze he was in. Your words barely hit the air, you were so quiet. “Jake, go back to your room. I’ll clean this up so she doesn’t–.”

“I’m good, babe,” he called back to her in a low tone, still honing in on your eyes. Your brows dipped, confused. He looked to the fridge, his hand coming to hold your bicep, keeping you there. Why was he not getting his ass back to his room? “Y/n’s asleep and I really don’t want to wake her,” he lied, eyes still glued to something to your left.

She could walk in and see he was lying! Why was he being so fucking careless? 

“Just go back to bed,” he continued, leaving no room for argument or worry. “I dropped something when I was getting up to get some water.”

“Okay,” she responded, not using the same near-whispering tone as him. “Just don’t be long, baby.”

“I won’t,” he simply said, amber-brown irises, tracing back to yours in the dim lighting of the kitchen, highlighted by the moon, shining in through the kitchen window. Full moon. Anything can happen. 

And what was happening was wrong. 

When you heard his bedroom door click closed and a little squeak from the bed to indicate someone had placed weight on it, you pulled away from him, his arm slowly dropping back to his side. The eyes that stared back at yours had a question behind them, but you didn’t give him time to ask it.

“Jake,” your tone clipped and quiet. You didn’t want to break the ridiculous cover he’d mindlessly created. “Why the fuck did you lie like that?”

“I didn’t want her to come in here,” he cut back, his inflection reflecting the same hot energy as yours. “If she would’ve known we were both in here, she would have come looking. I don’t need that,” he insisted. “And neither do you. Especially with your tits on full fucking display like that.”

You glanced down, after he’d motioned momentarily at your chest. And, his words rang true when you realized your entire fucking nipple and areola was visible through the material. Even in the darkness of night, you could tell as much. Your arms flew up to snugly cover them, flinching at the way it felt like sharp needles were pressing into your chest momentarily.  

When you peered down to where you saw his hand moving, you realized he was palming himself through his pants. You felt yourself release, the slightest bit in your panties.

Your hands tightened closer to your chest, doing the opposite of what you wanted in that moment–you wanted to bring your shirt down over yourself and let him finish on your waiting ches–.

Suddenly the pressure against you was too much and your arms were falling from their place across your breasts. Thus, standing there, on full display. Right fucking there for stupid ass Maya to walk in at any moment. 

Honestly, you were the stupid ass. And it seemed like Jake was, too. 

Maya was the innocent one in all of this.

“Go wait in your room for me,” he whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy floating through your veins. “I’ll clean this up. And then I’ll be—.”

“But–,” you brought your arms up to your chest again, covering yourself. It was a brainless move to flash your chest like that. You didn’t want to tempt him in any way. “This is my mess just–.”

“Y/n,” he all but spit in your direction with the harshness in his whisper. “I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself on the water or glass. Please.”

Good point. 

So, you decided you’d do as you were told, though not without the last word.

“Fine,” you practically growled, stepping over water, his hand reaching out to you, trying to balance over a puddle pooled at your feet. You grabbed his hand, one arm covered your heaving chest, as you made your way over the mess, and finished your thought. “But don’t come to my room. Go back to bed. I don’t want Maya to–.”

“I don’t care right now–,” he cut you off, but you didn’t let him continue before interjecting. 

“You will in the morning, Jacob,” you bit back, making fiery eye contact, crossing your arms. The hiss you released at the feeling of both arms covering yourself again was embarrassing. So, you tried to play it off. “You will. Just don’t make the mistake of coming to see me ton–.”

“It wouldn’t be a mist–.”

“Jake. Yes it would,” you insisted with a tense whisper, taking one step towards him, not taking your eyes from his once. “I’m not going to have you ruin what you have with her just to make a fucking mistake with me.”

Throughout the span of that small conversation, you saw his eyes go through every possible wave of emotion. His beautiful, deep set eyes had started wide with excitement, to now being filled with white hot frustration. He was mad. 

The last emotion made its way straight to the pit of your tummy and to your panties as you felt them draw even wetter. Damn. You’d take any sex with Jake right now, but angry sex? Dammit if that didn’t get you–. 

No, y/n. Stop it.

“Do you not want this? Why were you—just minutes ago if you don’t–?”

“I never said I didn’t want it.” You flat-out said, without a second thought. Why even lie when you’d just exposed yourself with whatever you’d just done with him? To him?

The two of you stood there, watching each other with flushed cheeks, hot breaths, and equally heaving chests. 

God, you would not be able to hold onto your momentary flash of integrity if you didn’t finish your thought and leave him. 

“We just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right,” you sniffed. Shit. Your throat was tightening, eyes collecting tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave a woman–the woman you love,” you choked, foolishly, on the emotion that quickly made its way from your throat to your eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”

His own expression matched yours, his eyes pooled with tears of dejection. There were once more a couple moments, filled with silence.

Silence, aside from your deep breathing, and wrought with an energy you couldn’t place. You had to get away from him.

“Just go to bed. I won’t fucking bother you,” he said, swallowing thickly. He then spoke your words from earlier. “And let me clean this up.”

Again, you sniffled, but nodded, looking down, to cover it with a barely there 'goodnight'.

He didn’t say anything else, just went about his business in the kitchen to put things back together, turning his back on you altogether.

Suffice to say, you cried for a good chunk of time as you laid in bed, after changing into a big t-shirt.

Cried big, fat, somber tears.

The crying had even lasted long enough, keeping you up to hear the bed creak much more than necessary when Jake got back to his bedroom. . . The sound of soft, pleasured moans from both of them, accompanying the groans of the bed as they moved on top of it.

Lucky fucking you. 

The bed that used to be yours when that room was yours. . . The acts being made against it that made you want to punch something - someone. Someone with long, black hair and a too-sweet expression.

Like a child, you growled and used a spare pillow to cover your ears until you couldn’t hear anything through the plush filling of the pillow.

You also tried to distract yourself with TikToks, but you couldn’t focus on your feed filled with BabyTok. It just made you sad and wistful as you thought of your day of book shopping with Jake. . .

About 30 minutes later, you figured the coast was clear. It had occurred to you after lying there, doing aimless shit, that you were still very thirsty. . . your tongue felt like cardboard in your mouth. 

When you opened the door to go to the kitchen, though, you found a tumbler that didn’t belong to you, waiting for you. And when you picked it up, you realized exactly who it belonged to. . . the words told you as much. 

Merry Christmas, Jacob Thomas! 

Love you, 

Mom 

The Cricut-vinyl lettering was placed carefully across the front of the black off-brand Yeti. What you found when you looked through the clear lid was a cup full of water. Iced water.

The crying that ensued as you closed the door and placed the cup on your nightstand was no surprise to you. The sweet action made your heart thrum with unbridled admiration for him. 

You hated how things were now. . . how simply interacting with him the way you had was a mistake. When you compared it to the way things had been before the fateful day in the kitchen, it made your stomach sink and your eyes well with more tears. 

Then there had been what you’d heard through the walls. . . it made you want to fucking vomit. But. . .you’d brought it on yourself. No question about it. 

Aaand, more of the damn tears. . .

After taking a few healthy swigs from the cup, you felt sleep find you without warning. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own.

And, as you faded into a well-earned sleep, the only solace you found that night was the smooth bump of your tummy, which your hands held protectively–longingly–as you wandered to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmmmm what do you think will follow that night in the kitchen?????

Change the World from Friendsgiving :)

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu &lt;3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles

(i think i figured out the tags limit! woooohoooo!! boo, tumblr. you're not getting me down today lmao)

[quinton-reviews]

have you ever thought about doing a Game Shakers video? or is the show too boring to really justify such a thing?

So when it comes to doing Henry Danger and Game Shakers videos, there are really a few things I think people need to keep in mind...

The mini-series so far is really heavily about me revisiting my nostalgia and kind of answering my curiosity about where these shows went. So reviewing iCarly and Victorious worked because they were of "my era." Sam & Cat worked on that level of "What happened after I stopped watching?" I think that if I don't have a specific goal or pitch, just flippantly watching kid shows from faaaar past my childhood works less as a concept.

One of the great things about iCarly and Victorious is that both shows are barely, and I mean BARELY, in the copyright system on YouTube. Once or twice per season, I'd get one clip or one episode that I had trouble with. But it was shocking how much I could get away with. Sam & Cat was hell because it was clear that by 2013 Nick was uploading stuff to the YouTube copyright library as it was made. So no matter what I did, I would get a copyright claim. This is honestly why those final two videos were much more indulgent than my usual style. I kind of went, "if I have to fight copyright anyway, might as well show more clips..." I regret this somewhat, as now my new video still has 20+ days until I'll have full ads AND I now have a reputation for only recapping plotlines. But that's what you get I guess.

This is much more a thing for Henry Danger than Game Shakers, but another issue is just how much content there is with these shows. Henry Danger has a decade of content, recapping all of it would be both unsurmountable journey and... Well, not fun to watch. So if I ever did these shows, I would have to really focus more on season-by-season analysis rather than actual episodes.

I think my videos on iCarly, Victorious and Sam & Cat are all connected by certain themes and points that I am now drawing closure to. The gags about "the creator," the cognitive dissonance, the attachment to childhood, etc. So if I do reviews on other shows, I have to find new angles and themes to establish. Drake & Josh and Zoey 101 are topics I like because instead of focusing on the creator, I can focus on the lives of the stars and how fame affected them. When it comes to Game Shakers and Henry Danger, the only possible throughline I can think of is how the shows were effective by the collapse of their creator and production studio. Henry Danger continued and improved while Game Shakers was effectively canceled early and fell on its face. But we've already covered all that. Game Shakers just doesn't have that pull to me, and because of that, I can't imagine finding an excuse to review it.

[damagedcoda6669]

how did youknow youbhad bpd? what were the main "symptoms" ?? soryif it comes off as personal or uncomfy you dont hsveto answer

(im rlly rlly rlly autistic abt bpd PREPARE 4 AN ENTIRE BIBLE ABT HOW I DISCOVERED I HAD IT)

ive exhibited symptoms of bpd my entire life (it usually starts 2 present in childhood or early adulthood, it comes from childhood abuse/neglect) i only started 2 notice something was wrong in my tweens/early teens, when malachi became my favorite person and every1 was calling me mentally ill and weird and obsessive. ive known my entire life i was neurodivergent (first started therapy at 6 or 7, diagnosed with bipolar + autism + adhd + depression + anxiety RLLY early on) but there was something else that felt wrong 2 me. at that age i didnt rlly know what 2 search 4 or who 2 talk 2, so i just went on google and searched "love disorders" and obsessive love disorder came up (which isnt even in the DSM iirc) and i posted on google plus saying i likely had that and was shot down IMMEDIATELY 4 "self diagnosing" so i didnt revisit it again until a few years later.

after my breakup in 2021 i felt like it hurt WAY MORE than was normal. i stumbled across a video abt bpd during that time period and it resonated with me way 2 much. im impulsive, i have angry outbursts, im constantly suicidal, i self harm, i have extreme mood swings, i dont know who i am and ive always just mirrored other ppl, i dissociate, i have black and white thinking, i view ppl as all good or all bad and i split, i have consistently unstable relationships, i get attached 2 ppl more than i should be, and i have a paralyzing, nauseating fear of abandonment. i have every symptom in the diagnostic criteria.

i brought up the possibility of me having bpd with my mom i think (i had no one else 2 go 2 becuz all of my friends abandoned me and my parents took away my internet access) and i was shot down again, with my mom saying the CLASSIC "(insert family member) has bpd and shes crazy. ur normal. stop pretending theres something wrong with u. if u had bpd u'd be vindictive and petty and evil. do u think ur those things?"

once i figured out how 2 get my internet access back, maryland dude forced the bpd label on2 me becuz he wanted 2 explain my "abusive" behaviors (he was abusing me but tried 2 gaslight me in2 thinking i had a victim complex and that it was the other way around) and i became uncomfortable with the label becuz he made it seem like if i had bpd then i was a bad person. i continued researching the disorder becuz it still resonated with me even though i was now insecure abt it.

i became comfortable with the label again after he abandoned me, and i brought it up with my therapist. my therapist would HEAVILY DENY that i had bpd, telling me that "if u had bpd u would be attempting suicide 4 attention" "u fit the diagnostic criteria but ur autistic so all of ur symptoms can just be attributed 2 autism srry" "ive had clients with bpd and if u were like them u wouldve had an outburst in my office and be yelling at me by now" and she would even smile at me whenever i brought up my bpd becuz she thought it was funny that i thought i had it, i think. the first time i brought it up with her she told me "its rlly irresponsible 2 self diagnose after reading liek two articles online abt some extreme disorder becuz u think ur broken. ur not broken. dont self diagnose with bpd" and i had to EXPLAIN 2 HER that i wasnt self diagnosing and that id researched it in depth 4 years actually and that she was making assumptions. horribly ableist towards ppl with cluster b disorders, this is a MASSIVE RED FLAG but i didnt switch therapists becuz i was still living with my parents at this point and i felt out of control in every aspect of my life 4 this reason, i didnt even see switching therapists as an option.

then in 2023, while i was homeless, i got evaulated by a psychiatrist. i discussed my bpd with him and finally got diagnosed. i told my therapist i was diagnosed with bpd and she said something like "well im not always gonna be able 2 catch everything" BUT I WAS TELLING U ABT MY BPD 4 MONTHS!!!!! so glad i dont have that therapist anymore but now i dont have one at all, so liek.. hrmmm >:c

im gonna end this by saying.. self diagnosis is valid!!! its so hard 2 get a bpd diagnosis becuz its so demonized and stigmatized, that even those in the mental health system r ableist towards the disorder and those who have it. diagnosis is not always an option with disorders like bpd, and thats so frustrating. its so hard 2 find help becuz every1 thinks ur crazy. but ur not crazy!!! i love all my fellow bpders, i know how agonizing and it is 2 live this tormented life. if u suspect u have bpd, the bpd community welcomes u and supports u!!! and i do 2 :3

[ivesambrose]

ℜ𝔞𝔥𝔲 𝔦𝔫 𝔓𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔰 & 𝔎𝔢𝔱𝔲 𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔦𝔯𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰

October 30, 2023 — May 18, 2025

Pick the image you can submerge yourself into or can see yourself getting lost in or being a part of, that has your message.

If you'd like an even more personalized reading in regards to this or anything else from my list of services DM or email me with your query at Ivesambrose@gmail.com

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Picture 1

You'll look back at your childhood, early teen years or even the eras before you that you haven't lived and take inspiration from there when it comes to your creative expressions. Might revisit old films, old forms of media, music etc too.

You'll feel detached to modern life quite a bit. I believe for a long time you've been quite cynical since even the field of creativity moves too fast being heavily reliant on content generation so you had kept your hobbies aside till now or were worried about learning anything new and allowing yourself to develop in your craft.

However, you'll have this unabashed sense of confidence which comes from simply catering to that version of you that wants to find joy and awe in the arts and whatever makes you feel less doom and gloom.

You might adopt a pet or find yourself feeling closer to animals. Also, do not worry too much about your finances. They will pick up.

Some of you might rent out a place or move into a new house.

Some of you will have prospective romantic suitors or an existing relationship will bloom slowly but with assurance.

A word of advice is to invest your money properly and not mindlessly spend it at the same time the harder you hold onto it the quicker you'll find your funds decreasing. Find a middle ground.

Detachment from what you have pushed yourself to hustle for tirelessly for so long and allowing yourself to dream, explore, rest and take it slow is going to eventually bring you what you truly want without you having to lose your sanity in the process.

Picture 2

Life seemed to have been filled with toil and labour that may have been showing it's adverse effects on your health. That and the need to achieve perfectionism has been constant but the results have been futile.

Either you have been working towards something you're passionate about and will see the results finally come through or you'll finally find a reason to be passionate about or something that is worth the dedication and labour you put for the long haul and you'll appraise it's results by the middle or towards the end of this transit.

You may be realizing certain connections (likely romantic) however established will not be making it. But that's okay, you'll be eager to take steps towards a new direction even if the past seems to come snapping at your feet. (Literally, take care of your legs and feet.)

You'll also eventually be pushed to become your own boss and validation. Learn and break the cycles of your own deliberate ways of self sabotage. What does that bring? That success you have previously slaved away for.

When illusions and distractions fall away, true transformation occurs. A clear mind is a gift of it's own, a power you can confidently weild. You can finally move forward without the constant anxiety of looking back.

Picture 3

You've been impatient for your own metamorphosis, your rewards, your blessings as well as your rebirth. The previous month's felt like someone grabbed you by the head and pushed you down in an effort to make you sink at some point, you prayed that it's done with, just so the suffocation would end. That's exactly what has happened but you don't realize it yet, but will in the coming months, the old you is gone.

Some of you may be feeling drawn to dark Goddesses (learning about them or working with them however this applies to you)

You'll be pushed in the spotlight now, unknowingly, suddenly and inevitability. The metamorphosis is complete see? You haven't noticed but the people will. And although there are so many fulfilling offers both in career and love, why must you run from it? Maybe cuz you've chased all of this or wanted all of this for so long, now that it's here, you feel a sense of detachment. And although aloofness is soothing and maybe even attractive, live a little. In fact, you should unapologetically live out loud.

You have this pent up energy of wanting to beautify, nurture and bewitch everything and everyone around you and that you will, it will start with yourself first. A lot of you will venture into an artistic field that will require travel, travel in turn will also help you in connecting with your soul tribe. Listen to your heart a little more because you certainly love being in your head.

You've also been worried about your family, you'll see them happy and fulfilled.

There's so much to create, to achieve, to learn, to teach, to explore to give and to receive. So don't hold back.

Picture 4

Sometimes realizing that what you thought brought you joy because it looked exciting and good in the pictures was sucking you dry after all, can also feel like a heartbreak or an afternoon cry under the shower. You've been sick likely and devoid of true merriment. Perhaps some of you aren't as happy with the company you keep. Good thing is, that's about to change, even though at first it may not feel like it.

There's conflict internally and externally, it might bleed into your proffesional/academic life. Is everything really supposed to be competition? How much of your authenticity have you compromised so far?

I do see you managing your finances/material life/academics/work/business etc efficiently. Finally resting, recharging and looking after your well being too.

At some point you'll encounter someone unlikely who will feel like a guiding star to you and might end up being a friend, a muse, a mentor or lover and if you're lucky, all of them in one person.

You have courage but you also have Intuition and foresight, trust it, use it. So that the joy you feel and what you celebrate next, fills your soul not just your glass.

[ar4chn333]

“I Just Got You Back”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Summary:

You and Michael shared your chaotic childhoods as best friends until your father moves your family away, devastating both of you. Twelve years later, you reunite. Convincing Michael to take the day off work, you revisit old memories…and make some spicy new ones. (2,473 words)

Contents:

Pörn with plot, p in v, praise, f!ngering, kinda tooth-rotty ngl, friends to lovers, x fem reader

Waiting anxiously a few feet from the door, you quickly fix your hair, pushing it behind your ear. Your mother steps ahead of you, giving the door three knocks before stepping back by your side.

“Let’s hope Lucielle has wine,” she chirps.

“Please,” you chuckle softly, careful not to be heard through the door. “If there’s one thing I remember about Lucielle, it’s the attitude–and the alcohol.”

“Amen,” your mom smiles in your direction, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, clearly excited to see her friend of over 40 years. Truthfully, you didn’t care much for Lucille. She was quite harsh and you remember her outright insulting you as a child but you didn’t mind if it meant you got to see Michael. The two of you spent long, hot summers in the Bluth banana stand, teasing each other, commiserating, and of course, half-assedly selling frozen bananas. You jump a little when the door to the model home swings open and out pops Lucielle who promptly hugs your mother then does the same to you.

“Got rid of that deadbeat husband, I see Jennifer?” Lucielle blurts.

“You should have seen the divorce party,” your mom retorts, giggling.

Lucille motions you two inside, making a bee-line into the kitchen to pour another drink. “You’re old enough to drink now, right?” she asks you. “Oh, yes, though I’ll have some later, thank you,” you reply. Lucielle rolls her eyes playfully as she takes a sip and hands your mom a glass. The two start chatting away and you prepare for a long night of third-wheeling two drunk middle-aged women. However, you hear footsteps coming from upstairs and a man’s voice, seemingly trailing up and down the upper floor plan. You wonder if it’s George, though the voice is much smoother than his, and you can’t make out many of the words. You turn back to the women’s conversation, deciding the mysterious noise is none of your business.

A few moments later you hear footsteps descending the stairwell. Whipping your head around, you see a man in a light blue button-up shirt, khaki pants, and a maroon tie with a phone up to his ear, which he promptly shuts upon landing on the first floor. He looks up. It takes a moment for your brain to register who he is, but when it finally does, you dart out of your chair.

“Michael! Oh my god!”

“y/n!”

He wraps you in a bear hug, nearly lifting you off of the floor. Senses overwhelmed by the scent of cologne and the warmth of his body, you sink into him ever so slightly. After a couple seconds you briefly pull away, your arms still on his, to look at him. He’s gorgeous and has grown into his stunning blue eyes perfectly.

“How long has it been? Ten-ish years?” He says, beaming.

“More like twelve,” you retort, having actually counted beforehand during the car ride over.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he says softly before chuckling nervously, as if the comment were a knee-jerk reaction. He smiles sheepishly, hand traveling to the back of his head. “Thank you,” you reply blushing and looking away briefly, stomach alight with butterflies.

Michael pulls out his phone, holding it up. “I really wish I could stay and chat but I have to head back to the office–Gob is causing trouble again.”

“Oh lord, what this time?”

“Can I tell you tonight? I’ll be back around 7.”

“I see you’re grown into your work ethic too huh? That’s not the Michael I remember at the banana stand,” you chuckle.

“No kidding, I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Are you sure you can’t take today off? We could go to the banana stand and walk around!”

“I’m sorry y/n, Gob’s a handful and I’ve got to take care of this.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then,” you say fake-pouting. He awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment and begins to walk towards the door. “You’d think the place is imploding with the way he acts,” shouts Lucielle with every intention of Michael hearing it. He turns back around to glare at her before locking eyes with you. Perhaps childishly, you make a fake explosion sound with an accompanying dramatic gesture from your hands. He pauses for a moment, looking back at his phone, then once again at you.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, you hop into his car and head to the banana stand. Walking around, you exchange stories of your childhood together–the banana stand, the bike rides, and burns from attempting to operate the cornballer. Though you leave it unsaid, you once again feel the pain of being thirteen and leaving Michael behind when your Dad decided to set up his company headquarters far outside of California. The pit in your stomach begins to subside when you glance back at the banana stand as the two of you walk past. The night before you left, the two of you were stocking supplies when you began to cry about your life being uprooted and most of all, losing your best friend. He kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever–and his too. Leaving broke your heart.

The two of you grab dinner and you find him to be just as funny, charming, and awkward as you left him, only now, he was devastatingly handsome. You talk about your respective jobs, ambitions, and hopes over the food, collectively realizing how weird your childhoods were–but at least you had eachother for most of it.

The two of you pull into the driveway, and he opens the door for you as you exit the car with the sweetest smile on his face as he holds your hand to help you up. You see your mom’s car and figure she’s probably passed out along with Lucielle. “I think your ride is probably asleep,” says Michael. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night, we have a spare bedroom for you to use.”

“Thank you, I’m not drunk or anything, but it certainly wouldn’t be safe for me to drive, much less attempt to wake my mother,” you chirp.

He opens the door to the house slowly and lets you inside. The lights are off so you tip-toe around to the stairs. “Where’s the extra bedroom?” You ask.

“Up here and to the right–I’ll show you,” he replies.

“Oh, perfect,” you let out with a relieved sigh, flopping on the bed, certainly feeling the sedative effects of the alcohol. “Any chance I could get some clothes to sleep in?”

“Sure! I have a shirt you could wear.”

Michael walks out of the room–the light still off with you perched on the bed. You’d have to travel back to your place in the morning. Though it was only a couple of hours away, you felt like Michael was being taken away from you again and it hurt all the same. You wanted more of him–to be around him, to talk about nothing and everything…to touch him.

He walks back into the room with a baggy shirt in hand, backlit by the slight light of the hallway. Hopping up, you glide toward him, reaching your arms out. He hugs you deeply and you feel his heart through his chest and his breath on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

“I feel like I just got you back,” he says, still embracing you. Slowly, he pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you. And for a brief moment, you just look at eachother. As if in sync, your faces move towards each other, his soft lips making contact with yours. He starts slowly, savoring every moment he tastes you, the texture of his stubble on your face making you melt. Pulling you in closer he deepens the kiss, smiling when an ever-so-slight sound escapes your lips. Your hand slides up his back, to his neck, and finally to his hair which you run your fingers through, gripping it slightly as he presses against you. The feeling of your hand on him causes him to breathe deeply against you, hungry for your touch.

“You’re burning up,” he says. You look at him concerned, cheeks and chest flushed a bright red. Eventually you realize what he means.

“It just means I’m enjoying this,” you chuckle, going in for another kiss. His hands trail farther down to your lower back and eventually to your hips. You let out a slight gasp as he pulls them towards his body. Almost out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck and jump, your thighs resting on his hips and your legs wrapped around him. Forearms on your legs, his hands cup your ass, giving it a squeeze as he carries you towards the wall. Back on the wall, you let out a moan as he leans into you. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, sucking lightly against the tender skin. You feel him getting hard from inside his pants as your nails drag along the shirt on his back.

“I want you, y/n. And not just tonight–I want you with me. I can’t lose you again,” he whispers.

“You won’t lose me–you’re stuck with me now,” you giggle, pausing to lock eyes with him. You lean closer once again, lips almost touching his “So fuck me, Michael.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Spinning you around to the bed, he lays you down gently, once again trailing kisses down your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, his hands begin to reach up your shirt, fingers tracing along your ribs and to your tits. He lifts your shirt off, sitting up for a second to admire you laid out for him, legs around his hips. You get a little shy, covering your breasts with your arms but he pulls them away continuing his trail of kisses from your collar bone to your sternum and finally to your nipple. Your back arches at the sensation of his mouth, tongue circling and lips sucking. Moaning softly, your hands tug on the back of his shirt, eager to feel the skin of his torso against yours. You reach down to unbutton his shirt before stripping off his undershirt.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he coos. You look down at him as his lips continue down your body, his mouth emitting the smallest sounds as he licks and sucks, driving you wild. Kissing just before the band of your underwear, you let out a moan, desperate for him. “Good girl,” he whispers. His words send shivers down your body, your underwear now drenched in anticipation. Slowly, he pulls off your pants, noticing your legs shaking for him already. He puts his hand over your most sensitive region, looking up at your expression–brows furrowed and mouth agape at his touch.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good,” you whine.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he whispers deviantly.

His fingers trace along your pantyline, pulling them down at a painfully slow pace, causing you to squirm underneath him. Running a finger through your folds, you whimper at the pleasure.

“Please, Michael.”

At the sound of your words, his middle and index fingers begin to circle your clit. Your hand reaches to clench the bedsheets while the other occupies itself with his soft brown hair. Your back arches suddenly and you buck your hips against him. Your moans become louder but are soon muffled by his mouth against yours. “That’s my good girl, so sensitive.” No sooner than he finishes his sentence, he slips his fingers inside of you, thumb now circling your clit. Curling them, he hits your g spot as you claw at his back, body pulsating with pleasure. “You’re doing so well, baby. It feels like you’re ready for me,” he coos.

“Please, Michael, I want your cock inside me,” you moan, locking eyes with him. His pupils widen as you palm him through his pants, biting your lip. He lets out a groan, sounding almost like the growl of an animal as he grows painfully hard. Sitting up, he undoes his belt in front of you as your hands trace the inside of your thighs, ready for him. Slipping off his pants, he raises one of your legs over his shoulder. Locking eyes with you, his hand runs the tip of his cock along your folds as your head tilts back in pleasure. Lining up with your entrance, he presses slightly into you, gasping at the feeling of your pussy. His hips slowly descend towards yours, cock pressing further and further into you. You let out a small whimper at his size, but quickly adjust to take him in.

“Oh Michael,” you let out, along with a stream of unintelligible whimpers.

He begins to slide his cock in and out of you, slowly, as not to hurt you. The delicious sounds that escape his mouth ring distinctly in your ears, causing you to clench around his member. You look down to see his hips colliding into yours, your legs shaking around him, buzzing with warmth and electricity at the feeling of him inside of you. He moves faster, pushing into you with increasing force and eliciting yelps upon contact.

“Shh baby, we don’t want to wake them up,” he says while continuing to pound you. Clearly unable to hold in your sounds, he slips two fingers into your mouth and your lips close obediently around them. You taste yourself on his fingers, moans escaping in the form of high-pitched hums in rhythm with his strokes.

A knot begins to form in your stomach as he fucks you, winding tighter every time he slides his cock into you. His thrusts grow more erratic, his mouth agape, on the verge of unwinding. He then takes your other leg, placing it over his shoulder, causing his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you as you squirm and buck beneath him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Michael!” you yelp.

Warmth runs over your body and the string comprising the knot in your stomach is pulled on like a ripcord, unraveling furiously. Your body shakes and your whimpers break in time with his movement while an electrical current overtakes your body with pleasure. Michael follows soon behind, cumming as his moans echo in the room and his thrusts dissipate.

He rolls over beside you as your arms cling to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you so much–I missed my best friend,” you whisper.

“I missed you too, y/n,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Come biking along the beach with me tomorrow.”

“I would love that,” you whisper, smiling ear to ear.

Author’s note in comments💕💕💕

[asexualtuckerfoley]

Prue Halliwell Appreciation Week Day 1 - Favorite Episode/Season

My favorite Prue season is season 3. The entire season is about her growing and recovering from the things that stripped her of her childhood and her innocence and reconciling with her family, but at the same time we see her trying to suppress her emotions and become superwitch, which stems from her anxiety.

Family Moments:

The Honeymoon's Over: we see her and Phoebe's relationship healing after a month without Piper, and while we've seen growth from them over the first two seasons, I think this is the first time we've really seen them so willing and determined to work together and support each other.

All Halliwell's Eve: self explanatory

Power Outage: this episode lets us see how far the Halliwells have come by how far they fall. This isn't season 1 Prue where she held her anger in close and tightly and hated to admit when she acted out of anger; she was immediately horrified by her actions and acknowledged that she was angry and that the demon just amplified it.

We All Scream for Ice Cream: Prue and Victor finally reconcile and there's this promise of continued growth that unfortunately Prue never gets to see

Wrestling with Demons: Here we see some of that old Prue-and-Phoebe tension, but this time it's over something much bigger, and they reconcile in a much quicker, more mature way. Additionally, the threat of losing Piper helps them work together proving that their sisterhood trumps all.

Pre-Witched: this is just a glimpse back at how broken the sisters' relationships was before becoming the Charmed Ones and it shows how much they've changed and grown.

Honorable mention for The Good, the Bad, and the Cursed: I liked the Prue/Cole dynamic and I wish we'd gotten to see that relationship grow as well while we moved closer to Phoebe and Cole's wedding

Romantic Relationships:

Magic Hour: anything about a non-Charmed One's relationship in this show is a reflection of what's going on in the sisters' heads, and for Prue it's her frustration with not being able to maintain a relationship because she's a witch.

Bride and Gloom: Prue's dating again in this but the guy she's with is a safe choice, but it takes being forced into a marriage with a demon to realize she doesn't want someone boring, she wants someone who can keep up with her.

Just Harried: when Prue's id gets out, one of the things she looks for is a fun relationship, the opposite of what she had in Bride and Gloom. I think if Shannen had stayed for season 4, we would've seen more of this "learn a lesson, find a guy who's the opposite, repeat" pattern throughout the season before finally meeting someone who was right for her.

Inner Child Moments:

Once Upon a Time: Prue literally has to regress to her childhood self to be able to see the fairies, this being shortly after the season 2 finale where she was physically reverted to a teenager

We All Scream for Ice Cream: now she's revisiting her past in a different way, coming up against a villain she saw in her childhood but couldn't comprehend at the time. This episode kind of reminds me of an EMDR session, where you allow yourself to revisit these traumatic childhood moments.

Anxiety/Superwitch Moments:

Sight Unseen: Prue's (not unwarranted) anxieties overrun her rational self, and Piper and Phoebe can see that, causing them to doubt Prue. It makes me think they grew up around this anxious, irrational version of Prue that comes out under stress

Primrose Empath: Prue gets overwhelmed by the emotions of others, which isn't surprising since she hardly allows herself to feel her own feelings, but in the end it's all those emotions that allow her to defeat Vince and at the end of it all, she is able to regain consciousness while her astral self is active, indicating that if she had lived and her storyline continued, that would have been the next step in the evolution of her powers.

Death Takes a Halliwell*: this is anxious superwitch Prue at her peak in my opinion. The entire time we watch her try to fight death itself to save every single innocent stems from her own inability to accept death as a natural part of life and her fear over losing the ones she loves after her mother's death. She thinks that if she's strong enough, if she's powerful enough, she can beat one of the most fundamental forces in the universe, but she's forced to accept here that even superwitch can't save everyone.

Sin Francisco: if DTaH is peak superwitch, Sin Francisco is her parting shot. It's everything bad that could come from that version of herself and the last warning she needs to understand that while anxious superwitch acts out in ways that could harm her, so does overconfident superwitch. I think in season 4 we would've gotten one more episode before Prue realized that superwitch isn't a person, it's a persona, and she needs to accept that it's her as a person who makes her a good witch, not the mask she puts on.

*It's unclear to me exactly when the decision to remove Shannen from Charmed was made, but this episode is such a painful reminder of what's going to happen to her character and Shannen's actual passing, yet somehow watching Prue come to terms with death and allowing herself to begin the grieving process is helping me grieve Shannen.

[princesssarisa]

Adventures in Wonderland (1992-1995): a detailed list of the Mad Hatter and March Hare's "Ship Tease" moments, Season 1

@hathousehappenings, @spikrock

The Disney Channel's Adventures in Wonderland was one of my favorite childhood TV shows, and it's one that I love to revisit now as an adult. Not only do its charms still hold up, but I can see certain nuances now that I missed when I was younger. Namely, how much the show's versions of the Mad Hatter and the March Hare seem like an adorable gay couple.

Now of course they couldn't make it overt: this was a kids' show in the early '90s, so officially, they're just best friends. But their actors, John Robert Hoffman and Reece Holland, are both gay in real life, and from an adult viewpoint, it shows.

So I've drawn inspiration from the long list on the Recess Wiki of T.J. and Spinelli's "Ship Tease" moments to create a similar list for the Hatter and Hare. Every moment between them that's particularly affectionate, suggestive, domestic, or just plain cute in a way that's not quite typical of platonic male friends.

I've rewatched every episode of Season 1 and compiled the list below the cut. Warning: it's long.

Herstory in the Making: The show’s first Hatter/Hare scene would work just as well between a married couple, as they face having to do “the grocery shopping” (it seems the writers hadn’t established yet that the two of them don’t live together) and as each one tries to foist the job onto the other. Later, in the story that all the Wonderland characters write for Alice, the Hare is described as “handsome” – it’s easy to guess that the Hatter wrote that part.

Lip-Sunk: When the Hatter pours tea for the Hare and offers him lemon for it, they smile affectionately at each other, their faces close together, and then giggle.

Red Queen for a Day: Their role in this episode consists of arguing over whether tarts or cookies are best to serve at a tea party: the phrase “like an old married couple” comes to mind.

Objects d’Heart: When the Hatter reacts with horror to the Queen giving her ugly statue to him, the Hare grips his hand to steady him. (Granted, the White Rabbit also holds his other hand and pats his shoulder, but the Hare grasps his hand with both of his own.) Later, when the Hatter calls the statue “a stately stone statue, a carefully crafted carving, a magnificent monolithic modern masterpiece,” the Hare gushes “Amazingly awesome alliteration!” in an adoring tone. And at the beginning of the sculpture garden scene, the Hatter is standing with his elbow on the Hare’s shoulder.

Arrivederci Aroma: During their duet, “Goodbye, Old Paint,” the Hatter and Hare go behind a screen together, then emerge having changed out of their regular clothes into overalls for painting. Meaning that behind the screen, they undressed in front of each other. Later, at the tea table, we find the Hare adding a condiment (pepper) to the Hatter’s cup of tea – silly, yes, but still an affectionate, intimate gesture.

The Bunny Flop: When the Hatter and Hare admit that the Queen’s missing shoe isn’t in the attic, they cutely finish each other’s sentence.

Pop Goes the Easel: The Hare grips the Hatter’s shoulder as they face the Queen to make an excuse for postponing the portrait-unveiling, and again in the final scene as they invent an explanation for the salt container in the painting. Their dance in their duet, “Your Picture is Worth a Thousand Words” also includes some shoulder-holding. And in at the Hatter’s house, as they cover the portrait in protective coating, their arms tangle together as if they were playing Twister.

That’s All, Jokes!: The episode opens with the Hatter and Hare pranking each other: first the Hatter tricks the Hare into drinking iced tea from a dribble glass, and then the Hare tries to trick the Hatter into eating a hot cross bun with spicy chiles in it. As they offer each other the prank treats, each one leans very close to the other and entices him to taste it in a sensual way, and each prank hinges on how well they know each other’s tastes: the Hatter knows that the Hare loves tea with lemon, while the Hare knows that the Hatter loves hot cross buns. Then when Tweedle Dum eats the spicy bun instead, the Hatter and Hare clasp each other’s hands and shoulders as they laugh at him together. Later, in the penultimate scene, they cutely exchange silent nudges and pokes to get each other’s attention during the Queen’s speech, and as everyone backs away when the Queen’s temper starts to flare, the Hatter grabs the Hare’s arm.

Forget Me Knot: Nothing much, but they do sing a cute duet in matching fake moustaches, “Give Us a Call,” when the Hatter is disguised as “Professor Memory.” The Hare’s “photographic memory” also includes several photos of himself and the Hatter together.

Boo, Who?: The Hatter and Hare bake a cake together throughout their duet, “Cooking with Candy”: a cute domestic scene. Then when they become ghost hunters and set a trap for the “ghost” in the Queen’s palace, and are explaining it, the Hare crouches down and hugs the Hatter’s leg to stop him from stepping on the rubber duckie and setting it off the trap too soon – just grabbing his leg with his hand would have sufficed, but instead he gives it a full-body hug! Later, as they’re watching for the ghost at night, they huddle shoulder-to-shoulder next to the Queen’s throne. Also, the Hare asks the Hatter if he can keep the ghost as a pet. You’d think he could make that decision on his own, but he asks the Hatter’s permission, as if they were roommates… or something more. (Again, it doesn’t seem to be established yet that the Hatter and Hare live in separate houses.)

Double Your Bunny: The Hatter is first seen lounging in a Cleopatra stance on top of the tea table as he faces the Hare, who sits in the opposite chair.

Diary of a Mad Hatter: The episode opens with a domestic scene of the Hatter and Hare cleaning the Hatter’s attic together. The Hare starts it by telling the Hatter that the attic needs cleaning, then immediately picks up a feather duster and starts dusting. This leads them to discover Great-Grandhatter’s diary. Later, they cutely nudge each other and laugh together about how “trees don’t bite.”

How the West Was Wonderland: When the Hatter shows off his selection of cowboy hats, the Hare serves as his assistant, handing them up from under the table. Then when they learn that the Queen needs a horse, they put on a two-person horse costume, the Hatter playing the front end and the Hare playing the rear end: they wear it for the rest of the episode and even sing a duet inside it.

The Rules of the Game: When the Hare sneezes in the middle of their duet, the Hatter stifles it by holding his finger under the Hare’s nose: a stock comedy gesture, yes, but an awfully intimate one. Then when the Miwok players form two-person teams, the Hatter and Hare insist that “of course” they’ll be partners. And when they finally explain to Alice that you can change the rules of the game at any time, they cutely finish each other’s sentence, ending it by speaking in unison.

Something to Sneeze At: The whole storyline revolves around the fact that the Hatter and Hare can’t stand to be apart, and so they try and try again to find ways to be together despite the Hatter’s apparent allergy to the Hare. The Hatter calls him “my Hare” when he says that he doesn’t want to lose him, and their utter sadness at being forced to avoid each other is made clear throughout the episode. So is their utter joy in the end when they finally solve the problem. Also, during the Hatter’s second sneezing fit near the beginning, the Hare holds tissue after tissue to the Hatter’s nose with each sneeze. As with the Hatter stifling the Hare’s sneeze in the previous episode, you’d think an ordinary platonic friend would let him do that himself. And when they try to have a “TV party” (a proto-Zoom meeting from today’s perspective), the Hare asks, “How do I look?” and flaunts his face close to the camera for the Hatter.

Off the Cuffs: At the beginning before the Hare’s magic trick, the Hatter gives a big spiel and sings a musical number about what an amazing magician the Hare is. Then he serves as his assistant. Later, when the Hare finally remembers that the key labelled “This is not the key to the trick handcuffs” really is the key to the trick handcuffs, the Hatter affectionately exclaims “Hare, you are so clever!”

The Wonderland Enquirer: At the beginning of the Tweedles’ flashback, the Hatter is once again lounging Cleopatra-style on the table while the Hare sits beside him, and they sigh happily and smile at each other while remarking what a lovely day it is for tea and crumpets. Later, as they set the table for the next tea party, the Hare exuberantly praises the Hatter’s parties, first in dialogue, and then by singing a song, “The Host with the Most.” In the subsequent scene, when the Hatter cries because Alice won’t eat his crumpets, the Hare tenderly pats his shoulder, then grips his arm when they read the “Hatter Serves Stale Crumpets” headline in the paper.

The Hatter Who Came to Dinner: As the Hatter trims the Queen’s shrubbery, the Hare stands under the ladder and spots him, ignoring the leaves and branch pieces that shower down on him. After the Hatter hurts his back, the Hare fusses over him and looks after him throughout the rest of the scene, even saying “Ow, ow ow!” with him as if in sympathetic pain while helping him down from the ladder. The next day when the Hare comes back to visit the Hatter, and the Hatter first starts to get up from the bed during his solo song, the Hare gently tries to coax him to lie back down at first, like a spouse would. Then when the Hatter invites the Hare to stay at the palace with him, the Hare responds by leaping onto the bed and reclining next to him. And in the final scene, when Tweedle Dee says that what matters is that the Hatter is feeling better, the Hatter and Hare say the Hatter’s catchphrase, “How true that is!” in unison. (This episode also includes a scene of the Hatter sharing the White Rabbit’s bed at night, and in his sleep, he seems oddly determined to throw himself across the Rabbit’s body, then giggles as the Rabbit accidentally tickles him while trying to move him back to his own side.)

For Better or Verse, TechnoBunny: Nothing much, but these episodes do include two of the most fun Hatter/Hare duets: “Professional Diagnosticians” and “Robot Recipe,” respectively.

Party-Pooped: The Hatter/Hare feud episode plays out like a breakup, with all the other characters finally conspiring to bring their favorite couple back together. To begin with, the Hatter’s complaints about the Hare’s inconsiderate behavior sound almost like a stereotypical wife’s complaining about an inconsiderate husband, and he even claims that the Hare has “hurt [his] feelings.” Then as they argue about whether the Hare should apologize or not, their faces come very close together, almost close enough for a kiss: the TV Tropes phrase “belligerent sexual tension” comes to mind. (The show’s “blooper reel” has a funny alternate take of this moment, where the Dormouse calls them both idiots and orders them to make up, then adds “Happy Valentine’s Day!”) And after the Hatter calls the Hare “not my real friend” and the Hare storms away, the Hatter’s expression shows that he’s instantly horrified and remorseful, but his ego won’t let him admit it. During their split, it’s evident that they’re still preoccupied with each other; their chief focus is on hosting rival parties and each trying to outdo the other’s. The climactic party scene at the Queen’s palace is the real shipper’s field day, however. It looks like a Valentine’s Day party, with romantic-looking red heart decorations everywhere. Ostensibly this is just because the Queen is the hostess, but she’s never used heart decorations this lavishly before. Then the Hatter and Hare discover each other’s presence by accidentally finding themselves chest-to-chest. After they still snub each other, and the others huddle up to form Plan B, what they do in the background is worth noticing: despite the show they make of refusing to speak or look at each other, they still don’t leave each other’s side, and keep stealing stealthy glances at each other. Then, when the others confuse them, not only do they start speaking to each other without thinking, but the Hare even uses the Hatter’s usual catchphrase, “How true that is!” And when all the others startle them by exclaiming “Aha!” they instinctively grasp each other’s arms. Throughout Alice’s subsequent song, “Back on Speaking Terms,” she and the other characters try to literally push the Hatter and Hare into each other’s arms, and try to join their hands too, no matter how many times they pull away. And at the end, after getting caught up in the dance, the Hatter and Hare finally voluntarily join hands, which is followed by their finally making up.

Up and Anthem: The Hatter and Hare end “The Wonderland Polka” by leaning against each other shoulder-to-shoulder.

Pretzelmania: When the Hatter and Hare react with shock to Alice guessing that their invention is a pretzel machine, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm and shoulder. They also do a little arm- and shoulder-grabbing during the reveal of the pretzel machine. The Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm again at the reveal that the Queen’s ring is missing, while the Hatter puts a comforting/steadying hand on the Hare’s shoulder after they, the Rabbit, and Alice accidentally knock their heads together. Then, when the Hatter says “Search me!” (meaning “I don’t know”), the Hare takes it literally, and starts patting and examining the Hatter’s jacket and chest to search for the ring, with the Hatter willing and happy all the while.

White Elephant Sale: Nothing much, but they do sing a nice duet, “White Elephants into Gold,” which ends with the Hare calling the Hatter (and the Hatter calling himself) “a very brilliant guy.”

Rip-Roaring Rabbit Tales: The Hare grasps the Hatter’s arm and shoulder when the White Rabbit says he’s come on official business.

Happy Boo Boo Day: Again, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm a couple of times during their duet “Shh, Surprise!”

What Makes Rabbit Run: Nothing much, but they do sing a fun duet and have cute moments of finishing each other’s sentences.

Friday the Umpteenth: The episode opens (after the theme song) with the Hatter and Hare together in domestic mode, cleaning the Dormouse’s teapot. Then, after they learn about Friday the 13th’s “bad luck,” they spend most of the rest of the episode in a state of anxiety, and frequently grab each other’s arms and shoulders.

Pizza de Resistance: Nothing much, but they do sing a fun duet, “It’s All Up Here,” and share a domestic scene as they cook their “pizza” (meatloaf) together.

A Litter Help from My Friends: They sing another fun duet, “A Picnic on a Bun,” where they build a giant submarine sandwich together, and at one point playfully “fence” with the knives. Then, when the White Rabbit says they have a big problem and the others gather anxiously around him, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s shoulder.

Busy as a Spelling Bee: The Hare precisely remembers the last time the Hatter went bowling and what he was wearing. Then when they decide to go put on their bowling clothes, the Hare says, “Let’s split!” and the Hatter replies “Spare me.” And their duet, “Pick a Word, Any Word,” ends with them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

Hic-Hic Hooray: Nothing much, but their duet, “Just Another Miracle of Modern Science,” does include shoulder-touching, and at one point the Hatter grooms the Hare’s ears for him while he looks in a mirror.

He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Hatter: First, there’s the title, if we assume it’s from the Hare’s perspective: “my Hatter.” Within the episode itself, the Hare comfortingly pats the Hatter’s shoulder when he cries about how tempting it is to eat cookies, and staunchly keeps his promise to the Hatter to hide the cookies and not let him eat any more. At the end, when the Hatter realizes he’s lost weight from all the exercise he got looking for the cookies, the Hare proudly exclaims “You’re so smart, you fooled yourself!” and in the song “It’s Great to Be in Shape,” he sings “We like that eye appeal” about the Hatter’s slimmed-down figure.

Invasion of the Tweedle Snatchers: Twice when the “aliens” first speak to the Hatter and Hare, the terrified Hare leaps up into the Hatter’s arms and the Hatter holds him “bridal style.” And even after the Hatter puts him down, they still cling to each other in fear. Throughout the whole episode, as in other episodes they spend in a stage of anxiety, they repeatedly clutch each other’s arms and shoulders.

Bubble Trouble: When the Hatter and Hare come to dip their “tootsies” in the spring, the Hare tickles the bottom of the Hatter’s foot and the Hatter giggles. Later, they share a domestic scene with the song “Scrub-a-Dub-Dub,” as they wash dishes together.

Welcome Back Hatter: The episode opens with the Hatter and Hare making a list of all the things they plan to do together, and then they talk extensively to Alice about how inseparable they are. As the Hatter says, “Has a Hatter ever had a better friend?” he puts his arm around the Hare and pulls him close. But then, of course, the plot kicks in: the Hatter wins a far-away castle in a contest and prepares to move. Throughout the episode, the Hare is utterly heartbroken, yet for the Hatter’s sake he tries to seem happy for him and urges the others to do the same. Meanwhile, the Hatter is too ecstatic about his new castle at first to see the Hare’s sadness or realize his own sadness at leaving him, but gradually it sinks in. First, in the attic, he consoles the Hare by assuring him that he can come visit him; then, after the Hare leaves at the end of the scene, the Hatter has a delayed reaction to the Hare’s remark that the castle will have everything “…except me,” and gazes after him, then looks deeply troubled. In the same scene, the Hare’s “By the way, Hatter… I hope you love your new castle” reads almost (or maybe entirely) like an aborted declaration of love. Ditto for their eventual goodbye, where they both pretend to be happy but clearly aren’t at all. Meanwhile, the Hatter leaves his house and all his belongings to the Hare as a gift. But after he leaves, the Hare can’t bear to move in because there are too many memories and is too depressed even to drink tea. But inevitably, the Hatter comes back in the end: it turns out that all he won was a tiny toy castle. Their joyful reunion features the ultimate musical tribute to their bond, the duet “Welcome Back, Hatter,” with the refrain “Hatter and Hare, quite a pair!” The song is set to a montage of funny Hatter/Hare moments from throughout the season, which the two of them watch on Crystalvision, patting and grasping each other’s arms as they laugh nostalgically all the while.

[aspoonofsugar]

A Cat Most Curious And A Caterpillar Most Done

Some thoughts on the episode. Not many original ideas, but it is fun to revisit what we got this week.

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT, BUT SATISFACTION BROUGHT IT BACK

This saying is the CC in a nutshell:

Curious Cat: Please, please hurry... I have many many questions!

Which in itself is interesting for 2 reasons:

They have a rather peculiar role in the Ever After

They are an embodyment of change

The Curious Cat's Role

What is CC's role in the Ever After? Obviously it is to be curious and to ask questions. Not only that, but they can move freely through the acres, rather than being tied to one, like the Hunters Mice or the Red Prince. Finally, they claim they can easily reach the tree:

Curious Cat: You do not go to the tree. The tree goes to you. Unless of course you are me... you see?

Let's use for a moment our meta-lens and let's recap everyone's probable roles:

RWBY are the protagonists

Neo is the antagonist, who might make herself a writer

Jaune might have lost himself in the role of side-character (The Rusted Knight)

The Tree is the protagonists' final objective

What is CC, then? Which role are we lacking? Who is the one who can jump to the very end of the story and move freely through the pages of a book? Who is the one who keeps asking questions and wants to always get new things and to discover how the story goes on?

CC: There is just so many characters to keep track of! Wait, what was my original question?

Yep, that is the reader (or the viewer in RWBY's case). This might be why CC hilariously embodies the fandom with all the theories, the impatience, the confusion... Their questions and thoughts are our questions and thoughts because like us, the CC can engage with the story freely, with no particular stake. They can follow the protagonists around or jump to other stories, series or characters they like.

Time changes and so do we, when it's our time to change

The CC can't stay put, their questions keep changing and they have the attention span of a goldfish... They are also introduced in an episode where a mysterious butterfly is shown flying around:

Butterflies are symbols of death and rebirth. They represent change and the CC is often shown following them around. Basically, the CC may be linked to change, transformation and evolution. Because of this, it is not surprising they state the theme of the episode out loud at the very beginning:

Curious Cat: So why would I ever want to go back? Not sense in seeing a sight scene.

Younger Yang: You don't have to go forward, you know? You could go back!

At the end of the episodes the protagonists are asked exactly this. Do they want to go back or to push forward? Do they want to keep growing and developing or do they prefer to regress? Like the Red King apparently did?

The Herbalist: This is how a King winds up a Prince

And here we come to the third episode that explores the inner child archetype:

Episode 2 shows us a positive embodyment of the inner child in the form of Little > they are sweet, pure, hopeful and idealistic

Episode 3 shows us a negative embodyment of the inner child in the form of the Red Prince > he is selfish, rude, unable to deal with his feelings

Episode 4 is a synthesis and asks us the question... how can you make use of the inner child without regressing?

In other words, how can Ruby grow up without losing her childhood innocence? How can she push forward without giving up her hope? How can she combine the quick and safe route (pragtmatism) with the beautiful one full of flowers (idealism)?

Can she even do it? Or will she be undone?

I AM THE HERBALIST... UNTIL I AM NOT ANYMORE

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”

The Herbalist is clearly a revisitation of Alice in Wonderland's Caterpillar. In general, the episode takes several lines and concepts of the Caterpillar's chapter and re-arranges them differently to fit RWBY's story. Just like in the book, WBY want to get back to their normal size. Except their physical problem is clearly a metaphor for a more existentialist one. Alice doesn't know who she is because her size keeps on changing and her thoughts and emotions keep transforming, as well. WBY want to get back to normal, but their size doesn't matter that much:

Curious Cat: I don't see what the fuss is about. Most of my best friends are six inches tall.

What's important is who they are inside:

The Herbalist: We all have our titles, our roles to play, but in order to help you become whatever it is you need to become, you really should have a better understanding of what you are now.

This misunderstanding is why their meeting with the Herbalist doesn't go so well. RWBY want to simply have a remedy for their size, but the Herbalist wants to help them find their role.

The Herbalist themselves, though, are clearly struggling with their purpose. In this, they are a clear foil to Ruby (our girl foils all the Ever After's characters :P). The Herbalist earnestly wants to help RWBY:

Yang: Look, can you help us or not? The Herbalist: I am trying, but you are making it more complicated that it needs to be!

Their role is to help people find their purposes, but it is clear this duty has started to weigh on them. Everybody goes to them for help! And people even refuse to listen, just like the Red Prince! Why can't people understand the process is important? Why won't they answer earnestly to the questions? Why won't they self-reflect a little?

The Herbalist is tired. They keep trying to help, but people are their own worst enemies and so things keep going wrong. Isn't it exactly what is going on with Ruby?

Younger Ruby: It's up to you to make things better, isn't it? Everything... all depends on you! Your sister needs you, your friends need you. The whole world needs you to keep fighting forever and ever against an invincible monster that took your mother!

She has been trying SO hard to help everyone, but people lose hope, they get divided when they should stick together, they are selfish and betray each other. They give in to fear and control...

Ruby is just so done as the Herbalist is. This is why both characters have slowly lost touch with what they should do. With the true essence of their roles:

The Herbalist: And what exactly does a Huntress do? Ruby: Fight monsters, I guess? I'm sorry, I don't understand why this matters...

Huntresses do not fight monsters, but save people. And yet Ruby can't even get this right. Similarly, the Herbalist has forgotten that asking questions makes sense only if one is willing to listen. And they are not clearly. If they did, they would know all RWBY wants is simply to get back to their regular sizes. They don't want an acide trip or a theraphy session.

The Herbalist misunderstands their own purpose and their actions almost lead Ruby to give up on herself. They should help people to find themselves, but they almost had Ruby lose herself. This is why the Curious Cat calls them out:

Curious Cat: Oh Herb... Look at yourself! You are done. You're supposed to be helping others find their way, but you've lost your own. Please, let me help and take a little bit of my heart. You'll feel much better.

And as a result, the Herbalist "falls" and disappears within the Earth:

Are they going to be remade? Has the acre absorbed them because they are not "useful" anymore? Or is there some other explanation? We will see in the next episode.

HUMANITY, PURPOSE AND IDENTITY

Ruby's answer to Little's "What are you?" question sets up 3 thematic axes to explore:

Humanity (I'm a human)

Purpose (I'm a Huntress)

Identity (I'm Ruby Rose)

The Ever After is a more simplistic place than Remnant. Each acre is done for its inhabitants and everyone has a purpose, which is expressed by their name. The question about identity is then simplistic, as well.

It is not who are you, but what are you? So, what are your purpose?

However, for humans the question of identity is more layered and complex.

First of all, there is a question about "humanity" itself. What it means to be humans? Are humans really such good creatures? The Ever After's inhabitants do not seem to think so.

Secondly, there is a question about one's role. What does one do? What is their purpose? The protagonists are Huntresses, but what it means to be a Huntress? Is it about killing monsters or is it about saving people?

Finally, there is a question about who you are as an individual. Who is Ruby Rose without her purpose? Who is she deep down, behind the mask of a hero?

Obviously, these 3 questions are intertwined, but so far it seems we are slowly building up a climax. Last episode, Ruby said they were humans, which sets the Red Prince off. So, this episode, Ruby opts to say they are Huntresses. However, this brings new difficult questions. I wonder if in a later episode, she is simply going to say her name, which will mean she will have to go even deeper within herself.

RWBY'S TRIP

Fittingly, this scene calls back to Mt Glenn, RWBY's first field trip. Well, they go through another kind of trip this episode :P and I loved it!

In general, the scene of RWBY in the smoke makes full use of the weapons' symbolism, which is at the core of this season:

The girls are asked to affirm they are Huntresses, so it is very powerful Yang, Blake and Weiss take out their weapons and point them to their younger selves. Not to hurt them, but to show who they are:

Yang's arc is about accepting asymmetry vs wholeness. So, she shows her younger self her mechanical arm.

Blake's arc is about accepting there are not simple answers to complex problems. This complexity is difficult to deal this, but it also makes Blake rich. Just like her weapon has so many forms.

Weiss's arc is about accepting she is Weiss Schnee no matter what. No matter the SDC, no matter Atlas or her father or her family or her legacy. No matter even if all these things are gone. So, she wields her sword, which is almost empty, just like all the things that made up who she was are gone. And yet, Weiss is still herself.

Ruby is the odd one. She has yet to find her weapon because she has lost her sense of purpose and doesn't even know who she is anymore. So, she can't affirm she is a Huntress. She can't wield her weapon with pride. She doesn't have it anymore.

On another note... each girl's Q&A moment can be commented also through the metaphor of their fairy tales:

Goldilocks is asked if she wants to be whole, if she wants to be "just right" because this fairy tale has no resolution. It lacks a proper conclusion. Yang, however, states she is going to push forward and find herself what she is missing.

Beauty&Beast is asked to give up her duality. Blake can choose to be either beast or beauty, either human or animal, either black or white, either darkness or light. And yet, she chooses this complexity which makes her Blake. Which makes her fairy tale so resonant.

Snowhite is asked to give up being Snowhite. She is asked to leave the title of her story behind. A story which is about a girl growing up. Weiss refuses this and affirms proudly she is and will always be Weiss Schnee.

Once again, Ruby is the one who fails thematically this episode. The point of her allusion is that she is both Little Red Riding Hood and the Hunter. And yet, she is not sure she can call herself a Huntress anymore. And in the end she is tempted to give up even being Little Red (Ruby Rose).

WHAT ABOUT GRIEF?

Does this episode follow the pattern of the Five Stages of Grief? So far we have:

Episode 1 > Denial (maybe)

Episode 2 > Bargaining

Episode 3 > Anger

What about episode 4? I think it may deal with the stage of acceptance, which is embodied by Blake, when it comes to the characters:

This episode our Cat-Girl's foiling with Ruby is especially evident:

Blake: Huntresses are heroes! We protect those, who can't protect themselves.

She is the one who comes up with the right answer to the Herbalist's question. Ruby instead gives a confused and simplistic one. Not only that, but Ruby ends up repeating to her younger self Blake's words in volume 1:

Ruby: But... life isn't like a fairy tale

When it comes to the episode itself, the theme of acceptance is rather evident. RWBY is asked to accept their past selves. They must look their child selves in the eye, aknowledge their mistakes and their losses, accept them and move forward. WBY are ready to do it in a healthy way, while Ruby isn't. Her "acceptance" borders in depression. She isn't ready.

Finally, like in the previous episode, the Curious Cat gives up a little bit of their Heart. As a result, the Herbalist "accepts" their own death, in a sense. They are given comfort, admit they have always been a workhaolic and then they disappear in their acre...

MISCELLANIA

2 random thoughts in the end:

This episode seemed like an attempt to alchemy, which fails because the right process isn't followed. Interestingly, this is evident also when it comes to the colors. RWBY are in the yellow stage and should move to red. So, they wake up on the beach (yellow) and then move to the Red Prince's acre (red). Still, they can't go on with the set-up journey (Alyx's) and take a detour. This leads them to an acre which is rainbow-ish. However, the rainbow phase in alchemy is at the very beginning of the white phase. So, this means they are regressing and losing themselves to chaos.

CC's lines to Yang and Weiss are interesting:

CC to Yang: Well that is your problem. It's a matter of perspective I'm afraid.

CC to Weiss: Looking at you, Wise Huntress...

I think they might hint to important parts of their arcs. Yang's struggle is about learning to see things from multiple sides. So, it is important she gets called for not doing so. Weiss is instead linked to the idea of anima/animus (Knight + Queen). The anima/animus gets refined and reaches its perfect state in the idea of "Sofia" aka Wisdom. So, it is interesting Weiss gets associated to this concept directly.

[thatmomentwhen345]

Ok enough reblogging I’m here to talk about my thoughts :)

The XY anime was what truly stuck with me as far as childhood memories of Pokémon go. I played Go and watched some of the Indigo League with my family but Kalos is what I remember the most. I adore Clemont, Bonnie, and Serena, and have come to love all the other gen 6 characters as I’ve revisited the series and learned more about the franchise as a whole. The Kalos mons have always been some of my favorites as well. And who could forget mega-evolution, one of the best gimmicks, and generation 6 basically started the tradition of gimmicks if you think about it!

Last year I binged the entire anime (before you ask it took 7 months) and finally finishing the XY series was closure I didn’t know I needed, and the characters gave me strength and comfort when I needed it a great deal. I drew this around the time I finished it. Kalos, you will always be so special to me.

Point being, holy shit. This announcement is the best thing I could’ve hoped for from Presents this year. I don’t care for gen 5, gen 2 is fine but I don’t feel there’s much else they can do with it. So bring it on, Legends Z-A. Expand the Kalos world. Do it justice. Please.