#songs that were like. my entire childhood and it's really fun for me to see them A. recreated by the kiddos

[mymarifae]

like when it comes to people advocating for shit like more of kikuo's work to be included in prsk it's just...... did you... did you look at the lyrics. or did you just hear technically well-made somber-sounding music and go "yeah this would be perfect for 25ji to cover 😍🥰💖💖" (side note: society when 25ji stops getting labeled as the Edgy group when their personal themes are just as positive and lovely and heartwarming as all the other groups 💔society when this fandom learns to read) without taking the five minutes to understand the absolutely abysmal really fucking disturbing sickening topics kikuo tackles in his music . like this isn't music you listen to for fun it should make you uncomfortable you don't fucking Jam Out to this stuff you shouldn't be able to listen to it more than like. once. it has no place in prsk and this applies to a lot of other songs and producers y'all want in there and also some. songs that are already in the game but i digress

[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)

[shuahoonie]

late night talking | boo seungkwan

pairing: non-idol!seungkwan (svt) x female!reader

notes: reader doesn’t like birthdays, fluff, swearing, childhood friends (implied) to lovers, reader is !! oblivious !! loosely based on the song late night talking by harry styles

word count: 4.7k

summary: something shifted in the universe when you and seungkwan started talking on the phone every day. this is big for someone who has their phone on do not disturb for almost the entire day. oh and going on a trip with your bff, practically acting like a couple is normal right? right???

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

if there's one thing people should know about you— it's that to never call you if there's an emergency. you’ve always gotten shit on for having your phone on do not disturb.

“what if you got stabbed?!” seungkwan dramatically yelled behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“well, did i?” you asked stopping dead in your tracks to face him, crossing your arms.

“no,” seungkwan answered “but what if you were?!” oh this is never going to end.

“i already told you i was going out for air.” you replied, turning your back against him and kept on walking. somehow, the walk back to your accommodation seemed like it went on forever. “if you knew me better, you should know to never call me.”

“i tried texting and you still didn’t answer!”seungkwan was getting frustrated. “seriously, what’s the point of having a phone if no one can contact you!”

“seungkwan, this conversation is going nowhere.”

“it’s because you’re too stubborn!” seungkwan pointed out. “see? you’re not even listening to me!”

“my ears are starting to bleed, seungkwan,” now you were getting annoyed. it’s always like this with you two— you and seungkwan bicker like there’s no tomorrow, driving each other mad. yet, you two can’t keep away from each other.

you quickened your pace, not in the mood to argue. you knew you were at fault.

“you know i was worried, love.” fuck. of course, seungkwan would drop that pet name. he knew how to get you— annoying and cheesy as it may sound— and it was enough to make you stop walking. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

“i’m sorry,” you sighed. “i was being a brat—”

“yeah, you were.” seungkwan agreed, not even let you finish. you let out an appalled huff, crossing your arms.

seungkwan laughed, reaching out to uncross your arms and pulling you closer to him. “you know you’re lucky you’re cute or else this behaviour will never work on me.”

“whatever,” you mumbled. “it’s because you love me.” you were practically chewing your words. it was times like these when you often question if you two are destined for something more. two childhood friends on a weekend vacation— alone. doing couple activities. acting like one. it really makes you wonder.

“yeah,” seungkwan hummed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “i know.”

seungkwan went off on a long rant about wanting to spend the weekend with you out of town. mind you, he proposed this plan over the phone at 1 am on a random tuesday. he even scolded you for not picking up sooner.

“why didn’t you pick up the first time?”

“kwannie, you better be dying if you dared to call me at 1 am.” you grumbled.

“i love you, but i’m calling anyone but you if i were dying.” he said on the other line.

“okay, well it’s good to know you’re still alive. i’m hanging up.” you said with your eyes closed, ready to fall back to sleep.

“do you have plans next weekend?”

it was your birthday next weekend. not that it was a big deal, but you didn’t really like celebrating your birthday. seungkwan knew that— at least you hoped he did. “no,” you said quietly.

“do you want to go out of town?”

you agreed, not thinking much about it as it’s been a while since you went on a trip— let alone, with seungkwan. plus, it’ll be nice to actually have fun.

it raised some eyebrows, for sure, especially from mingyu.

“you’re actually going?” mingyu asked while he was busy chopping up some onions. he was preparing dinner for jun and wonu— who crashed his dorm. you and chan found out and decided to crash there as well.

“and why not?” you raised an eyebrow at mingyu, crossing your arms. it’s not like this is the first you and seungkwan have gone on a trip by yourselves.

“because,” mingyu avoided your gaze. he knew something and since it’s you we’re talking about, he would rather be eaten alive than admit whatever he’s thinking to you. “it’s weird.”

“why would it be weird?” you asked with furrowed brows. “it’s seungkwannie.”

“exactly.” mingyu exclaimed, proceeding to turn around and look for something in the cupboards.

“yah!” something clicked in your head. “do you know something that i don’t?”

“i’m not going to tell you until you admit it yourse— yah ynnie!” mingyu yelped from where he was standing after you pinched his ear. “fine, fine!”

“well, i’m waiting kim mingyu.” you crossed your arms in anticipation.

mingyu muttered a long string of curses— some of them about you being worse than his girlfriend, which only prompted you to pinch his arm. you liked his girlfriend.

“it’s just—“ mingyu was racking his brain for the right words to say. “does it ever bother you that kwan is doing all of this just for you?”

“what do you mean?” now, you’re genuinely confused. gyu’s never the type to instigate things like these. “he’s always been like that, gyu.”

gyu hummed— pursing his lips into a thin line. “you know what? you’re right, ynnie.” mingyu proceeded to cook dinner for all of you, choosing to move on from the topic. “let’s drop it.”

this only piqued your curiosity. there’s no way kim mingyu can just drop it. “no, you have to tell me, gyu.”

“tell you what?” chan pranced inside the kitchen, carrying the empty glasses and putting them in the sink.

“i don’t even know, ichan.” you sighed. “because mingyu won’t tell me.”

“i’m probably assuming things,” mingyu said dismissively, not eager to expand on the topic any further.

chan stared at you two with furrowed brows. obviously, this is confusing for him as there’s not even enough context to build up on. “uhh?”

“mingyu’s being weird,” you sighed “he’s suspicious of kwan’s actions, as if kwan has been nothing but sweet our entire lives.”

“seungkwan? sweet?” ichan laughed at your, what he assumed, incredulous take.

“see?!” mingyu pointed out animatedly, making you scoff at him.

“ynnie, i think what mingyu’s trying to say is that—“ chan paused, looking for the right words to break his thoughts in.

mingyu, loosing a mental battle between speaking about it or not, chooses to interrupt chan’s thoughts. “he likes you, yn.”

“uh—“ you felt frozen in your place. you were waiting for them to explain further, anything that can clear this up. “like as friends right?”

mingyu let out an obnoxious laugh that prompted you to throw a piece of crumpled up kitchen towel at him.

“why are you being so loud?” jun asks as he and wonwoo prances inside the kitchen, both confused by mingyu’s outburst.

“hyung,” chan turns to jun “what do you think about yn and kwan?”

jun furrowed his brows, confused. “what do you mean?”

“like about yn and seungkwan being—“ mingyu tried to explain but wonu cut him off.

“together?” wonu continued, his tone unsure. mingyu and chan nodded. “are you not?” wonu then turns to you, confused.

“what do you mean?!” you could feel your cheeks burning at wonwoo’s implication. “of course not! what led you guys to that idea?”

“oh you want to do this now?” mingyu asks tauntingly. “because i will do it.”

“shut up, mingyu,” you grumbled, obviously flustered.

“you have to excuse mingyu,” jun walks closer to you, giving you a side-hug. “he had a tiny fight with his girlfriend earlier that’s why he’s being an asshole.”

“eh, don’t care about him,” you said loud enough for mingyu to hear and yell ‘hey!’ with a pout. “what about you junnie?”

“personally?” you nodded “i think some people say that they’re friends to justify the actions that prove they’re more than just that.”

you were about to reply when your phone buzzed from the kitchen counter. eyes automatically wandered to your phone, with seungkwan’s contact name filling the phone.

“he calls you love?” chan asks as he read the text that seungkwan sent you, fondness in chan’s tone. no one was really surprised that it has gotten to the point that seungkwan calls you adorable pet names but for some reason this one did. “how have i never heard him call you that, yn?”

“oh, uh,” you let out a strained, embarrassed laugh “he only calls me that when we’re alone.”

“cute,” wonu smiles, making you even more flustered.

you attempted to dodge the situation by texting seungkwan back, saying that he can crash gyu’s dorm too. “can you save him a plate, gyu? seungkwan’s dropping by in a bit.” you said in a small voice. as soon as the words left your mouth, you realized that whatever you just said will not help your situation at all.

“this is why people assume there’s something more going on with you two,” jun laughs.

“if you believe it, sure,” seungkwan says on the other line. he texted you asking if you were awake a couple of days before your supposed trip. you always had your phone on do not disturb as soon as the clock strikes midnight.

seungkwan, the loving menace that he is, kept pressing the notify anyway button on your thread. hence, the random video call at midnight.

this has been a frequent occurrence in your life. seungkwan has been clingier lately. although he’s always been close to you, kwan’s demeanour around you has changed.

“mhm,” all you could do was hum in response. at this point, you forgot what you were even arguing about. it was probably something petty like not knowing a pop culture reference.

“mhm?! ynnie are you sleeping already?” seungkwan asks on the other end of the call, looking over at your dark screen. he could barely see you in the frame— in fact, he’s firm that you’re not even in the screen at all. all he could see was the bedroom window from your dorm— bright lights from the neighbouring building illuminating the screen.

“hmm?” your eyes were getting droopy. you don’t even remember what happened the rest of the call, assuming that you probably fell asleep while mumbling sweet nothings to kwan.

seungkwan chuckled when the line went quiet and he heard your soft snores. it has always been like this. he would call you before bed and you would often fall asleep during your calls. if anybody asked him, it was his favourite part of his day.

“good night, my love.” he says softly, about to end the call.

“love you,” you mumbled in your sleep, surprising seungkwan. he wasn’t sure if you saying that deep in your sleep means something but that didn’t stop him from having a huge smile on his face.

“love you too, my ynnie.” he whispers, ending the call.

you, jun, and seokmin met up at heaven’s cloud coffee roasters one thursday evening. “ynnie?”

“hm?”

“i texted you last night, you didn’t see?” seokmin asked with a pout.

you shook your head, ashamed. you probably opened the text when you were half-awake and forgot about it completely.

“oh, you know how she would always have her phone on do not disturb,” jun vouched for you, in which you offered him an apologetic smile. “she probably opened it and forgot about it.”

you checked your inbox to see seokmin’s message. you checked the time stamp and saw that he texted you while you were on a call with seungkwan— you two were hosting a netflix party, watching the glory together. “i’m sorry, seok,” you pouted.

“ah, it’s alright.” seokmin smiles at you, pinching your cheeks. he was asking if you had plans this weekend— which is your birthday weekend and your weekend trip with seungkwan. “so, do you have plans this weekend?”

“oh, um, seungkwan and i are going out—“

“you and seungkwan are dating?!” seokmin yells, almost making you spit out your drink.

“seokmin, no!” you practically pleaded, a look of embarrassment present on your face. “what i meant was seungkwan and i made plans this weekend— we’re going on a trip.”

“oh— oh,” there’s a knowing glint in seok’s face, a teasing smirk that already painted a thousand scenarios running through his head. “okay, okay. no worries.”

jun was holding back a laugh. he could sense the frustration emitting off you but he could also see where seokmin’s conclusions were drawn from.

“seok, it’s not what you think—“ you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke on you, seungkwan arrives at the café with a huge smile on his face upon seeing you three. as soon as kwan’s eyes met yours, his smile softens a bit more. this didn’t go unnoticed by seokmin.

“it’s okay, ynnie,” seokmin smiles at you genuinely. “what you and kwan have is the purest form of love.”

“you’ve been awfully quiet, yn,” seungkwan comments as he glances at you from the driver’s seat.

“just couldn’t sleep last night, kwannie,” you mumbled, looking out the window to avoid eye contact.

“you can take a nap, we’re still an hour away from our destination,” he said looking at the estimated arrival time from the navigation system.

“it’s fine,” you said quietly “don’t worry about me.”

seungkwan hummed, unconvinced but chose to drop it. it was a 3-day weekend and seungkwan cannot afford to spend the entire trip full of arguments.

the truth is, ever since seokmin unleashed that line about you, kwan, and love— you began to overthink it.

it’s not like the whole thing is foreign to you, but since other people are pointing it out so blatantly— it did stir up questions that you were beginning to be confused with. hence, sleepless nights.

“yn,” seungkwan calls your name, one hand in the steering wheel while the other hand reaches for yours, intertwining his fingers against yours. “are you sure you’re okay?”

this did not help your situation at all. seungkwan would do this all the time, but now, it’s like your insides are causing a stir.

“mhm,” was all you’ve managed to say. you felt your heart practically leaping out of your chest.

he was determined to hold back with picking petty fights with you this weekend. and seungkwan knew not to pry, so he rubbed small motions on the back your hand— hoping to ease out whatever’s bugging you.

you tried to hide the deep breath you took when seungkwan used his endearing charm to ease your nerves. with your free hand, you sent a quick text to seokmin, something along the lines of feeling overwhelmed and yet warm and but also intoxicated and boo seungkwan.

will you ever survive this trip?

the answer was no, you can’t survive this trip. upon arriving to your accommodation, you went straight to your room— making up some lame excuse that you’re tired.

seungkwan has been exceptionally patient about the whole thing, which surprised you. not that it was news, but he has already gone out of his way to be exceptionally understanding even if you think that you’re being rude most of the time.

so here you were, cooped up in one of the rooms of your air bnb, acting like a 13 year-old hiding from their middle-school crush.

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself as you stared at the empty ceiling.

you were lying on your bed, listening to soft tunes with your eyes closed, when you heard a soft knock on your door. “ynnie, i’m coming in,” you heard seungkwan say on the other side of the door.

he found you lying down on your back, completely straight. you didn’t even look at him nor bothered to open your eyes. your position was so rigid, it made seungkwan burst out of laughter.

you heard a shutter click before opening your eyes and turning to look at him, kwan was smiling so wide with his phone out.

“ya,” you glared at his smiling figure “what are you doing?”

“you look like vernon,” seungkwan laughed and sat beside you to show the picture he just took. your sleeping position was… questionable. you look dead.

“seungkwannie,” you whined as you sat up straight and tried to snatch seungkwan’s phone to delete the photo. seungkwan’s reflexes, however, were unmatched compared to yours. he was quick to shove the phone far from you.

“what?” seungkwan was laughing at your childish antics.

pouting, you placed your chin on his shoulder. “delete it.”

seungkwan turned his head to face you, his face mere inches away from yours. his eyes briefly flickered to your lips, almost taunting him.

you caught a glimpse of seungkwan’s gaze— you knew he looked at your lips, which only confused you even more.

snapping back to reality, you cleared your throat and moved far from seungkwan. he was briefly startled but regained his composure once he saw you stand up.

“are you feeling okay now?” he asked. you nodded timidly. you were not.

seungkwan’s patience was testing its new bounds. he has never been this patient around anyone.

time seemed to be passing by quickly. day 1 of your 3 day weekend was almost coming to an end. you and seungkwan spent the day walking around the town, basically doing whatever you want— café hopping, book shopping, eating, and pottery painting.

name it, seungkwan made it happen— which only made you overthink even more. what’s the real deal between you and kwan?

that’s why when day 2 rolled around, you were now actively avoiding him and this didn’t go by unnoticed by kwan.

by the time it got dark and you weren’t back from your walk, not answering his texts and calls, his patience had come to an end.

you had your phone on do not disturb the entire time you went for fresh air alone. this only made seungkwan worry even more. you were walking around an unfamiliar town, alone.

so now here we are, seungkwan telling you off for not replying to his texts and not answering his calls.

"what if you got stabbed?!" seungkwan dramatically yelled behind you, making you roll your eyes.

"well, did i?" you asked stopping dead in your tracks to face him, crossing your arms. this is you, trying to act like seungkwan's unwavering care for you did not affect you and totally cleared things off for you.

"no," seungkwan answered "but what if you were?!"

"i already told you i was going out for air" you replied, turning your back against him and kept on walking. somehow, the walk back to your accommodation seemed like it went on forever. "if you knew me better, you should know to never call me."

"i tried texting and you still didn't answer!" seungkwan was getting frustrated. his patience for you could only last for so long. it didn't also help the fact that you were avoiding him all day. "seriously, what's the point of having a phone if no one can contact you!"

"seungkwan, this conversation is going nowhere."

"it's because you're too stubborn!" seungkwan pointed out. "see? you're not even listening to me!"

"my ears are starting to bleed, seungkwan," now you were getting annoyed. now this, this is what's relatively normal in your relationship. it's always like this with you two - you and seungkwan bicker like there's no tomorrow, driving each other mad.

you quickened your pace, not in the mood to argue. you knew you were at fault.

“you know i was worried, love.” fuck. of course, seungkwan would drop that pet name. he knew how to get you— annoying and cheesy as it may sound— and it was enough to make you stop walking. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

“i’m sorry,” you sighed. “i was being a brat—”

“yeah, you were.” seungkwan agreed, not even let you finish. you let out an appalled huff, crossing your arms.

seungkwan laughed, reaching out to uncross your arms and pulling you closer to him. “you know you’re lucky you’re cute or else this behaviour will never work on me.”

“whatever,” you mumbled. “it’s because you love me.” you were practically chewing your words. it was times like these when you often question if you two are destined for something more. two childhood friends on a weekend vacation— alone. doing couple activities. acting like one. it really makes you wonder.

“yeah, i know” seungkwan hummed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “now, c'mon. i've got a surprise waiting for you back in our place.”

“i’m sorry, ynnie,” chan said while giving you an apologetic smile, wiping the tears falling down your face “we know you don’t like making a big fuss about your birthdays.”

“but we can’t help it!” seok whined giving you the tightest hug, making you laugh in between tears “how are we not supposed to celebrate your special day?”

turns out, the surprise that seungkwan was talking about was the rest of the guys— who travelled all the way here to surprise you for your birthday.

“oh our sweet, little yn” jun coos as he gives you his present and a hug. they were having a field day with the amount of presents that they kept giving you. apparently, it was hard to choose one specific gift so they got you everything you ever wanted.

it’s taking every bit of you to stop yourself from saying that you’ve already had everything you can only dream of.

once the guys found themselves having their own little world— eating takeout and drinking — seungkwan pulls you aside, asking for you two to have a bit of an alone time with each other.

you both sat on the front porch steps, no space between each other, taking in the quietness of this town with the blanket of stars hovered above you.

“how are you doing, love?” seungkwan asks as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers against yours.

if this was any other day, you would be overwhelmed by how touchy seungkwan was being. however, given the surprise intimate party that was thrown, you were more than relieved to hold his hand since you’ve always found comfort in seungkwan anyway.

“bit overwhelmed,” you laughed “ but thankful. knowing that you all made an effort to do this means a lot.”

your birthdays have always been a sensitive subject. not that there was trauma associated with it, but your family had never made it a big deal. hence, you carried that ever since.

“i know you don’t like celebrating your birthdays,” seungkwan said “but i don’t think i can just let the day pass knowing that you, being here and coming in to my life, had been the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“kwan—“

“and please don’t get mad at them, i just wanted to make today extra special.” seungkwan practically pleads.

“i’m not mad, kwan” you said softly, squeezing his hand slightly to let him know that you’re serious. seungkwan sighs in relief.

silence fell as you two sat there underneath the stars, fingers intertwined. you took this moment to pursue the question that’s been bothering you the past few days. granted, it might make things a bit awkward but birthdays are about milestones, right? maybe being courageous is something that you want to embody as you celebrate being a year older.

“kwan?”

“yes, love?”

“why did you do all of this?” you asked.

“because it’s your birthday,” seungkwan laughs softly, as if you thought that all his efforts stems from something else. “and because you deserve everything good in this world, yn.”

“okay,” you hummed, not entirely convinced by his answer. so you’ve decided to step it up a notch. “do you like me, seungkwan?”

seungkwan was caught off-guard. who wouldn’t be?! the words slipped off your tongue so easily that he stared at you for a minute, looking for any tells that may indicate that you’re fucking around. but you weren’t. seungkwan saw that you were genuinely curious.

“of course, i like you, yn,” seungkwan answers “i mean i know i tease you a lot but that’s why we’re friends, right?”

friends, of course. “ah, right.” you replied, trying your best to show that you’re not forcing a smile. maybe you really were just overthinking things— boo seungkwan does not like you in that way.

seungkwan, however, noticed the change in your demeanour. he also noticed how you were trying to loosen your hand against his. “you don’t seem satisfied,” seungkwan points out lowly.

“hm?”

“were you expecting a different answer, yn?” he asks.

“nope.” you replied, staring directly at the empty streets and avoiding eye contact.

“are you sure?”

“yep.”

“then look at me, yn,” seungkwan says, prompting you to look at him.

he was fighting back a smile which annoyed you for some reason. “what is it, seungkwan?”

“do you like me, yn?” he asks, eyes sparkling as if to tease you even more.

the thing is, seungkwan already likes you. yes, more than a friend. yes, in that kind of way. however, he knew your stance on that whole friends to lovers trope.

you were wondering about mingyu and his girlfriend— how he knew that she was more than a friend. mingyu once answered, “i always knew.”

his answer didn’t help you, only made things confusing for you actually.

you once run by it through kwan, he was caught off-guard, of course. “i don’t know actually,” he tells you.

“right?!” you were surprisingly giddy. seungkwan has never seen this look on you when it came to this topic.

“i believe it’s all happenstance. i think people come into your life to serve a purpose. they can be your ray of your sunshine that easily brightens up your life…” you rambled off “or they can be your hope, you know, something that can easily be your driving force to tackle life or teach you have hope.”

“or they can just simply come into your life to teach you love and how to love.” seungkwan tells you.

you smile at his answer. when you two are not playfully bickering, he can be the sweetest person that you know. “so which is it?”

“i’ll let you know if ever find out,” seungkwan replies with a smile. he already knew the answer, he’s just waiting for you to figure out the answer yourself.

birthdays are about milestones right? courage. this year you’re going to learn about courage.

taking a deep breath, you answered “yes.”

“i’m sorry, what?” kwan practically chokes on his spit.

“boo seungkwan, i like you.”

“really?” he grins. “so which is it?” this time he leans in, his face inches away from you.

“what do you mean?” you asked quietly, the proximity of your faces was starting to drive you nuts.

“did you finally figure out how you knew i meant more as a friend to you?” closer. he kept leaning in closer.

as soon as he asked the question, he pursed his lips together, prompting you to look at it.

“mhm.” you hummed. when did his lips get so red? has it always been this red?

“and?” he smiles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“phone calls,” you whispered, your lips mere inches away from his. “i don’t mind answering your phone despite putting it on do not disturb.”

“i knew it,” seungkwan whispers back, lips touching lightly touching against yours. “because i’ve liked you before then.”

you pulled back a bit, “i thought you only liked me as a friend?”

“when did i say that?”

“uh, minutes ago?” you replied with a raised brow “are you trying to gaslight me?”

“no,” seungkwan laughed “but i was trying to wait and see if you were ever going to profess your undying love for me.”

you scoffed at his answer, making him laugh even more. he then cups your face gently, leaning in closely. you were back to where you two used to be— lips slightly touching each other.

“kwan?”

“hm?”

“are you going to kiss me?”

“i’ve always wanted to,” kwan says before pressing his lips against yours. “and now i don’t think i can stop myself from doing so,” he says as he pulls away briefly, but kisses you back again.

everything felt so light when it happened. his lips were soft, the way he cupped your face— gentle. it’s as if everything clicked, everything felt right.

boo seungkwan felt right.

BONUS: can't get you off my mind | seungkwan

hiya friends! it's missing boo seungkwan hour ! ☹️ also, thank u so much for all the love that i've received from my other works! i read all the comments and all the tags— just know it fills me with so much love!

[cannedpickledpeaches]

The Drive Home

Floyd Leech x Reader

Notes: Haven’t finished the side stories for Insert Your Name so here’s some Floyd angst while you wait.

Somehow or the other, over the years, you’ve become Floyd’s designated driver.

You’re good friends, so of course you go to the same parties. You don’t drink, so of course he needs someone reliable and sober to take him home . . . if he isn’t going home with a new friend. The latter happened often enough in university that you only showed up to events when he was too hammered to leave with anyone else.

You never bothered to learn about his more personal life. It wouldn’t be too weird to ask—he’s happy to volunteer information unprompted, regardless—but you simply aren’t interested. You’re his childhood friend. It would feel almost gross to like him when his parents’ home welcomes you as warmly as your own. Jade and Floyd are just like your annoying brothers, that’s all.

You’re also really good at convincing yourself.

When you were young and fueled by emotion in high school, you constantly dreamed about Floyd if he was the perfect boyfriend. One who was attentive, fun, and loyal. One who would treat you as someone special, who would never get bored and cast you aside. One who would devote his entire being to you.

Maturing is realizing that’s just not Floyd. And you can respect that. Maturing is understanding that no matter how much your heart likes him, that fairytale prince you conjured in your daydreams with his face doesn’t exist. Maturing is realizing just because you like him doesn’t mean he’s good for you.

But you still like him. You tried, but you can’t change that.

Neon letters flicker and cast their light over the interior of your car as you wait in the driver’s seat. After graduating from university, he moved on from frat parties to clubs. Even while parked by the curb, you can hear the booming music thrumming in your steering wheel. The bass pulses like a second heartbeat.

A tall silhouette stumbles to the door on the passenger side. Neon pinks and purples from the sign behind him light up the flyaways in his messy hair. When he opens the door, the stench of alcohol crashes into you the same way he crashes into the seat. The cologne swirling around in the headache-inducing miasma doesn’t help in the slightest.

“You stink.” To alleviate your nostrils, you roll the windows down. The muted music transitions into a different song with the exact same beat. “I’m thinking about kicking you out and making you walk home.”

“Don’t do that, s’not nice.” His words sound as though his tongue has lost half its flexibility. “Ya’ve got your best friend in your car! Would never dream of doin’ somethin’ so mean, wouldya?”

“If you throw up over the seats, I’m kicking you out. Too bad my best friend isn’t worth cleaning up whatever’s in your stomach right now.”

“Won’t throw up.” His snicker ends in a groan. It takes him several tries to secure his seatbelt. “Fuck. Feel like the world’s spinnin’.”

You pull out a plastic bag from the glove compartment and shove it in his lap.

For a good stretch of the drive, he’s content with humming to himself. You don’t play music in case it makes his headache worse. He makes enough noise to fill the car anyway. His off-tune humming switches through several melodies, some you recognize, some you don’t.

The humming fades into silence. At a stop light, you glance at Floyd to make sure he’s okay. His eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones. You think he’s asleep until his eyes flash open and he gives you a grin.

“Eyes on the road.”

“Just making sure you didn’t kick the bucket.” You catch a glimpse of a red stain on the right side of his Adam’s apple. Your gut twists unpleasantly. “If you’re gonna sleep, turn your face to the right.”

“Why? Y’don’t wanna see my handsome face or what?”

You look forward as the light turns green. “No, you told me to keep my eyes on the road. I just don’t want you transferring those lipstick stains onto the seats.”

“Ain’t gotta be salty that you don’t get laid.” You don’t need to look at him to hear the grin in his voice.

“That’s because I have standards.”

“Like what?”

“Something higher than ‘has a hole.’”

He clicks his tongue playfully. “Jealousy ain’t cute on ya.”

You’re aware. Painfully so. Jealousy feels ugly, gnarled, like a twisting mess of poisoned vines reaching insidious tendrils through your veins. They eventually follow your veins back to your heart, squeezing its walls with every lipstick stain you see on his skin. The wish to possess, to confine him in your clutches when the thing he hates above all others is to be tied down—that isn’t cute in the slightest.

Maturing is keeping the worst thoughts inside. A mature adult like you won’t throw a tantrum or cry dramatically in front of him. No, a mature adult like you can do that in the privacy of your room.

“What’s cute on me, then?” You swallow hard. He won’t remember this conversation by tomorrow. Probably. Not when there are so many other, more interesting conversations from the club to remember.

Awkward silence fills the car. Your fingers leave sweat on the steering wheel. Focusing on the road might help distract you from the odd pause from his ever-present noise.

“Your hands.”

You very nearly step hard on the gas by accident. You weren’t expecting an answer at all, much less this one.

“Why? Is that a fetish, or . . . .”

He barks a laugh. “Nah, who knows?”

“Ew. I’ll kick you out.” Both of you know you won’t. If you’re being honest, you’re a little flattered that he thinks your hands are cute, even if it’s in a platonic way. “Why my hands?”

“Dunno. Just the part of ya I was lookin’ at when y’asked.”

Now that’s an odd answer. At a stop light, you look at him again. His sleepy eyes meet yours, and a lazy grin tugs at the corners of his lips.

“I told you to face your right.”

“Right, right.” He sticks his tongue out, but doesn’t oblige. “How’m I s’posed to give ya a proper answer when I’m not s’posed to look atcha?”

“You can’t think of cute things about me if you aren’t looking at me?” You scoff, turning onto a side street. Almost there. “Think of me in your head or something.”

“My head can’t do ya justice.”

Your heart almost skips a beat. Almost. Because you think of all the other people he’s said those words to. All of a sudden, you feel much less special.

Childhood friends. Maturing is understanding that is all you are, and that is all you will ever be, and that you will never, ever be in a relationship with Floyd Leech unless you want it to come crashing down in infinitesimal pieces.

“I like your eyes, too. Always lyin’.” He laughs. “The eyes of a liar, that’s what ya got. But I like them more this way.”

“Doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Well, it is.” His chuckles fade into the ambient rumbling of the car for a few moments before he starts rambling. “I like your laugh, too. And the way ya come to pick me up even when ya complain. And when ya scoff when I do somethin’ nice for ya, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell you’re happy anyway. And your nose when it scrunches up. It gets red when it’s cold.”

“Most people’s noses get red when it’s cold.” You choose to ignore everything else he said.

“Not mine.”

“Most humans.”

It’s the novelty that attracts him. You’d have thought that after living with humans all this time, the novelty of flushed skin would have worn off, but it’s hard to tell with Floyd.

“Wouldya like me more if I was human?”

His voice is nearly lost in the humming of the car. You keep your eyes straight ahead. Vaguely, you wish there was more traffic in this side street. Something to keep your mind off the odd vulnerability in his voice.

“I like you the most the way you are,” you say, and it’s the truth. No matter what he is, human or mer or otherwise, you like Floyd as himself. You’ve fallen in love with a natural disaster, and you only barely have enough sense not to throw yourself in the midst of it. The winds would shred you apart. You desperately struggle against the part of your mind that whispers: at least you would have had it once before being destroyed.

But you’re older and more mature now. You won’t indulge that emotional side of you.

You stop outside his home and put the car in park. “We’re here. Get out of my car.”

A mix between a groan and a whine drags itself out of his throat. The alcohol might be making him woozy, but he can walk to his door just fine. You won’t need to help him anymore than this.

He unfastens his seatbelt and leans over to you. The hug he gives you is so uncoordinated, it feels like he’s simply throwing his weight onto you, his arms flopping uselessly.

“Thanks,” he says a little too loudly for his mouth to be next to your ear. “See ya ‘round.”

“Don’t ask me to pick you up again.”

“Ya say that every time.” He laughs again. Laughter always hides just under his tongue when he drinks. “Ya still come when I call.”

“I won’t anymore.” You don’t mean it.

He waves off your remark and plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You stiffen, but you’re sure he’s too drunk to notice. With a boisterous farewell, he stumbles out of your car and disappears beyond his front door, leaving the ghost of his kiss on your skin.

You hate being a mature adult. If you weren’t, maybe you would’ve called after him. You might’ve rolled down the window all the way and pulled on his collar, yanking him close enough to kiss him on the lips. Consequences be damned, caution to the wind, whatever else they say about being young and reckless. But you’re a mature adult, and the best you can do for both of you is watch as he leaves.

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2024: broken promises and one last hope

Hello.

I know this post took a bit longer than usual, but I needed some time to collect my thoughts about this year’s Eurovision.

Yes, I watched it. Why? Because it wouldn’t have been fair to the artists, who took part in this year’s competition. It’s not because of them that the show was so polarized, so they didn’t deserve to be punished for that.

Also, I needed to see how far the EBU would go. I needed to see and I needed to remember. And everyone needs to remember too. Remember this year and remember what happened, when the EBU followed its policy so strictly, it ended up making the most tense show I’ve ever watched.

I will share my thoughts and I will try my best to do it effectively. It won’t be a short post and I apologize, but I tried my best.

_________________________________

Sweden: was it worth it?

We all had big expectations for this year’s show. There was Petra Mede, everyone’s favorite host. And Sweden is well known for doing great shows. This year should've been great.

 The first semifinal starts and we're bombarded by greatest hits of the past. Cool for five minutes, boring after one hour.

I’m disappointed: I expected something better from Sweden, not them recycling something already done in the past. But that’s what they did by sending Loreen back to win again, so I suppose it’s fitting.

Okay, so we have Johnny Logan, Ireland’s three-time winner. Is he singing one of his songs? No, he’s singing Tattoo.

Weird choice. Why call Ireland’s three-time winner to perform a Swedish song? Why call a representative of the nation who won as many times as you and make him sing one of your songs and not one of his?

If I were to think badly, I would think this was Sweden's subtle way to impose its supremacy on Ireland. A sort of: "You're not the best anymore, I reached you and I will surpass you. You will succumb to me". But Sweden would never do something like that, wouldn’t it?

Then we have the second semifinal. And we have a song, which can be resumed as follows: “We know we stole Finland’s victory last year, but instead of admitting there is a problem with the voting system (and the entire system for that matter), we’d much rather prefer to whine, because people have been sooooo mean with us. And yes, we will keep sending the same stuff every time, because it makes us win. At the end of the day, all we want is to keep winning, so shut up and love us.”

I don’t know you, but the line between being self-aware of your flaws and openly admitting all you want is to win (all while insulting the country that almost won last year, by saying that their show would’ve been so stupid ah ah, while ours is so cool, see how cool we are?) is very thin. And even the greatest hosting country of all time can succumb to its own hubris once in a while.

Then we reach the final. Okay, the semifinals' shows were meh and left me with a bitter aftertaste, but hey, that’s the final! It must be awesome!

After two hours, I was looking at the clock, waiting for the entire thing to be over.

Did we really need a thirst song about Martin Österdahl, the most hated EBU Executive Supervisor? Was it really necessary to sexualize this man? Is it because he’s Swedish? Is it because Sweden needs to kiss the ESC’s ass even more? Or is it because the ESC really really wants to make this guy more popular, considering people hate him?

After hinting at them in every possible way for the entire week, in the end we got AI-generated ABBA. Well, shoutout to the real ABBA for not participating in this: last year they said they would’ve not taken part and they didn't. Respect.

Alcazar were the biggest surprise of the entire week, because they are a piece of my childhood and Crying at the Discoteque is still a huge bop. But heaven forbid we having fun for more than five minutes, so they were sent away immediately.

At the end of the day, my question is: was it worth it, Sweden? Was it worth winning seven times, only to celebrate with the most boring show ever?

I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I missed Portugal’s show. Yes, the show I called “torture”, because they kept spamming the entire country for days.

You know what? I’d rather watch a country constantly spam its beauties and its culture, than another greatest hit compilation. By god, you’re hosting Eurovision. That's your chance to display your country on the greatest window Europe has to offer. And you use that chance, to repeat over and over “Eurovision good” and talk about it only.

I know Eurovision is good and cool and I love the reminder... but please, give us something more, Sweden. Something you. Listening to a country say: “We don’t have anything else to offer besides Eurovision” does not make me laugh. It makes me sad. It's not that you don't have anything else to offer, Sweden: it's that you don't want to show what else you have to offer.

You have gorgeous natural places (Höga Kusten and Gotland just to name two). You have the second-longest bridge in Europe and it's fucking impressive. Your capital is full of wonderful islands - and I found out there are tours with buses that go both on the ground and in the water. How fucking cool is that?!

Do we want to talk about culture? Your coffee breaks are literally part of your lifestyle and even have a specific name. You have that great concept of lagom which a lot of people should learn too. You are full of beautiful art and funny foods - heck, there is even a Disgusting Food Museum in Malmö! And I didn't find out thanks to Eurovision, but thanks to fucking Tripadvisor.

It's just sad, you know? Don't underestimate yourself so much, Sweden. You have a ton to offer besides this show.

_________________________________

 The Netherlands: victim of paradoxes

Europapa was one of fan’s favorite songs and of course it was: a catchy tune, funny singer, fun and happiness for a song that was both a celebration of Europe and a touching love letter from Joost to his parents.

Of course it got people’s hearts. We all love the story of a character who comes up with a dream and wants to fulfill it. And if we can, we want to make that dream come true.

So just imagine how devastating it was, to find out Joost has been disqualified. I was minding my own business when I found out and I was shocked, so I can’t even imagine how bad his hardcore fans felt.

The first question was, of course, why. What happened? What could’ve done a man who has always wanted to attend Eurovision, to get disqualified? Not warned, not penalized. Disqualified. What did he ever do, to put in jeopardy his lifelong dream like that?

I don't know if we’ll ever find out the whole truth. All we know is that Joost asked a woman to stop filming him, she refused and kept following him, so he made a “threatening gesture” towards the camera, while not touching her.

Which gesture? No idea. Maybe he showed his middle finger, maybe he tried to lower the camera, maybe he said “fuck you and stop filming me”, maybe he tried to hit the camera. I don’t know. But in this case, I would really like to know - and not just what he did, but how the whole thing went.

If this year taught us something, is the importance of context. If Joost Klein tried to punch the camera is one thing and he should be condemned for that. But if Joost Klein tried to punch the camera after being filmed without his permission, because a woman was harassing him and following him, thus breaking the agreement that wanted him to not be filmed after stage… well, that's another thing.

Sure, he shouldn’t have reacted this way. But you can understand by yourself that snapping at someone out of the blue is one thing and snapping because you’re fed up with harassment is another thing.

Did Joost deserve some punishment? Sure. But did the person filming him without consent deserve punishment too? Of course. If you have to apply punishments, you have to do it equally, not with a double standard. So if he was disqualified, that woman should've been removed from her position too. But as far as I know, she wasn't.

Also, why didn't the EBU tell exactly what happened right from the start? Why refer to it as “an incident” and give only vague explanations? Why not mention Joost's disqualification during the Grand Final? Why did people have to find out through social media and the Grand Final happened as if nothing?

That's weird, that's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide. What’s the matter, EBU? Why this weird lack of communication? And why not show the footage of the incident and make everything clear? Now you’re respecting Joost’s right to not be filmed? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?

So yes, in a paradoxical turn of events, Joost Klein got his dream denied by the same show he wanted to be part of. The guy with the most European song ever, the one who stuck to the ESC motto “united by music”, the one who celebrated Europe, the one whose childhood dream was to be part of this European show, got disqualified by the same European show.

What can I say? I just hope karma will do its job for him. If he's innocent, he will get good things. If he's in the wrong, he will get his punishment.

In the meantime, you can still support him, stream his songs and check his albums. Here on YouTube you will find basically all of them, since it doesn’t seem he has a YouTube channel (yet).

And if his fans still find everything absurd and unjustifiable, don't worry: if Eurovision 2023 (and all previous ones) taught us something, is that you don’t have to be the winner, to steal people’s hearts. Sometimes, you just need one performance.

And this one stole everyone's heart.

Also, since apparently paradoxes were not enough, it seems like European flags were banned for being political? European flags during a European show in a European country in the European continent.

Uh?!

EBU, one question: on which continent do you think you’re in? Spoiler: it’s not America.

_________________________________

EBU’s biggest mistake

Let's talk a bit about the current global situation, shall we? No, you can't escape from it.

So, unless you lived under a rock until now, you know that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been going on for a long time and that recently it intensified again because of the new Gaza conflict. Israel pretends to not have committed war crimes, the rest of the world tells them to stop committing them, there are protests everywhere and people are ready to jump at each other’s throats to defend one country or the other.

Now, you’re the EBU. You say your show isn’t political. And that’s true: Eurovision isn’t political. Eurovision is a musical competition. It has nothing to do with politics.

But Eurovision takes place on planet Earth. And, as said, the situation on planet Earth is a bit tense right now. So you already know that, if you stick one single finger in this situation, you will get BIG reactions from the public.

So, what do you do, when Israel asks you to participate?

a) You tell Israel, very politely and very professionally, that you appreciate their application, but cannot accept them this year, because the situation is what it is and letting them in would bring chaos and potential dangers into a contest whose main foundation is being safe and non-political.

b) You let Israel in and let Palestine participate too, at least in spirit through people’s voices and decisions to mention it. This way, no one can say you’re taking sides, since you’re letting both sides participate.

c) You let Israel in and censor everything and everyone else, so not only you bring chaos inside your non-political contest, but make it even more political than ever and end up taking sides too.

Guess what EBU chose.

In order to stick to their non-political policy, EBU put blinders on and ignored the rest of the world. In order to let one country in because "Eurovision is non-political, so everyone is allowed to participate", they brought politics into their non-political show.

And no, it's not unexpected: it was obvious that, by letting Israel in, politics would've entered the competition too. This country and politics are bound tightly now, because of the current situation: of course if you let one in, the other will enter too.

And with politics, all the chaos of the current situation found its way in too. And that means EBU literally put in danger:

25 artists and their teams coming from all over Europe

the same Israeli gal and her team

all the tourists coming from all over the world to attend Eurovision

Swedish people who were living their normal lives and were suddenly surrounded by protests and chaos

the protesters who could've been involved in potential clashes

members of the police who also could've been involved in potential clashes

“But hey”, you might say, “nothing bad happened, in the end! You’re being too negative!”

Sure, thankfully nothing bad happened. But the risk was there, it was huge and it's not that "it would've been here anyway": the risk could've been completely avoided, by applying just a bit more human reasoning.

But even after politics found its way into the show, even after that, EBU could've saved the whole thing. If only one human being with a functioning brain said something like: "Okay, politics is in, even if we didn't want to. Now all we can do is let the other side of the conflict speak too, while we stay neutral".

But no, oh no. Mentioning Palestine and ceasefire means politics and our show isn't political. So let's ignore the fact that our decision to follow the policy verbatim led to politics being inside the show and let's keep applying the rules as if nothing: no one should mention politics, so Eric Saade cannot perform with the kefiah, Bambie Thug should remove their messages about ceasefire, Iolanda cannot keep her nails with Palestine's colors (seriously?!) and people's booing should be drowned with anti-booing technology.

You know, it's incredibly fascinating how EBU's stubborn decision to strictly follow the rules not only allowed politics inside the show, but led to the EBU itself taking a political stand, all while censoring every other opposition. EBU's rigid, mechanical application of the policy led to the EBU contradicting the same policy it was oh-so-religiously following. By making sure the show wasn't political, EBU applied censorship and not only made it even more political, but politically oriented towards one side of the conflict.

I don't know who the EBU members are and if they're human beings with functioning brains or just AI-generated bots, but please: stop following the rules like mindless robots and start using human reasoning in your decision-making process. And use common sense too, because if an idiot like me could foresee the consequences, you should've been able to foresee them too.

_________________________________

Israel: bullying cannot buy you victory

Now, we have Israel in. And the Israeli gal and her team perfectly know that their sole presence will lead to controversy and political stands.

So, if you were in their place, what would have you done?

kept a low profile during the entire competition;

showed at least an ounce of regret for unintentionally putting everyone in danger;

bullied everyone and tried to find any possible chance to beef with the other artists;

Guess what the Israeli team chose.

During the entire competition, these people kept harassing other artists, filming them without consent, calling them names, misgendering them. They kept this arrogant behavior, as if they owned the place and all other countries were just invited to their show.

And if there’s something I hate more than arrogance, is arrogance with a side dish of bullying.

So, to all the people whining because “Martina Satti yawned while Eden was speaking and Joost hid his face”: if that’s bullying, for you, you have a great life and I envy you. I wish I was bullied like that in school. But my bullying was more like… well, calling me names, harassing me and listening/spying what I was doing without my consent.

But apparently harassing the competitors wasn’t enough, so Israel decided to harass the viewers too, by begging for votes. Yes, they begged for votes. Yes, they spammed ads all over YouTube. Yes, I got one too and it was on a Eurovision-unrelated video and it made my blood boil. Yes, they were this desperate. And yes, that’s pathetic.

Also: is this legal? Is this allowed? EBU, are we sure this is part of the rules you follow so strictly? And please, tell me: is harassment also part of those same rules?

But do not worry: in the end, karma found its way. And despite the arrogance, the harassment, the tons of money spent to beg people, none of these means was enough to grant Israel the victory they oh-so-desperately wanted.

On the contrary: in a wonderfully ironic twist, the winner was one of the artists they kept misgendering and harassing. Mmmh, delicious irony, my favorite.

So thank you Israel for wasting money all over YouTube, I hope they were a lot. Thank you to all the people who made a political vote, you really got the spirit of the show, I hope you will never watch it again. Thank you Israeli team for harassing everyone and making an already tense competition even more tense. And, most importantly, thank you EBU for bringing politics in a non-political show: great fucking job, I hope someone will get fired.

And now, let's finally talk about music. Israel's song was nothing special, just the umpteenth bland song I've listened to 200 times already. And we all know it didn't get 300+ votes because everyone was in love with it. People's taste is not so bland and boring. And the final points proved it.

(On a side note, if I were Eden, I would be offended by these votes. At least the people who voted for Loreen last year didn't do it because of Sweden, but because of her talent. This year, I doubt that the people who voted for Eden gave a shit about her talent at all)

_________________________________

France: I need to make some apologies

Listen, you have to understand: we Italians know that French singers are good. We laugh, we say they’re “so French” and they keep Frenching and everything, but we know they rarely disappoint.

The problem is that France is good at the same things we’re good too. We’re both good at soccer, we’re good with food, wine, fashion. And we’re both good at singing.

So, France, remember: we might make fun of you but my god, your artists are amazing. When Slimane sang that part acapella two meters away from his microphone, I literally got shivers. He is a fucking great singer, his voice is incredible and he deserved more than 7 points.

I know French Frenching, but we should give credit when necessary:

_________________________________

Estonia, Spain and basically everyone else: two words and more apologies

Estonia 20th and Spain 22nd? Super robbed. The ignominy. The audacity. They served us beautiful Estonian language and a Spanish gal with a soft voice and that's how they got rewarded? They deserve more and better and people are stupid.

Also, I don’t know what kind of beef Greeks have with Marina, but she was good and doesn’t deserve all of this hate. Also because most of the complaints I've heard about make no sense, so… uh?!

Germany: fucking finally, people gave you votes. Thank you for persevering, your song was truly nice and I liked it too.

Armenia: yes, top 10! For great, lively, wonderful Balkan rhythm! You deserve it and your country deserves love and appreciation.

Italy: I’m okay with this result. Angelina’s performance was better, compared to the one in the semi-finals (also, better costume too, the other was too revealing and too much in general). 7th place is fine.

Ireland: I know that’s not a song for everyone and okay, fine, maybe it’s nothing special either… but my god, have you seen the performance they put on? A-ma-zing. It was interesting, captivating and full of details. And the narrative is perfect too: you can see how Bambie slowly befriends the demon and ends up killing it. It was truly enjoyable to watch. So I’m glad it got 6th place, they deserve an even higher position.

Ukraine: please keep slaying, your artists are always so great and they keep proving it every goddamn time. Also, that moment when Ukraine surpassed Israel was delicious: money truly cannot buy you love and support.

The UK: seriously, why are you whining about people not giving you points? The song was okay, but nothing truly special. Still, you got 18th place! What should Norway say, instead? Poor Norway, it has all my sympathy, the song wasn't this bad.

And now, to you all: you know what to do. Follow your favorites, stream their songs, shower them with love. Eurovision is over, but these artists are not disappearing. They are still out there, making beautiful music. Go check on them.

_________________________________

Croatia: “the audience will come to my concert, not the jury”

Baby Lasagna was a blessing and as Italian, I want to properly apologize for giving it 16 points total only. You deserved 24, shame on us for being stupid morons.

Croatia gave us a beautiful song, from a beautiful artist with a great message and upbeat sounds. And I’m not the only one who thinks this, because the rest of the public agrees with me. Marko gave us pure joy and entertainment in an evening that was mostly sadness, tension and boredom.

And yes, it’s sad he didn’t win… but he knew it, before Switzerland’s points have been announced. Look at his face, during the final voting: as soon as Petra said Switzerland only needed 182 points, he realized he was going to lose. You can see him understanding and accepting it. He knew Switzerland would get these points. I knew. Everybody knew.

So no, this wasn’t like last year: last year, it was a one-on-one game between Finland and Sweden and a tug-of-war between public and jury. This year, we had a lot of favorites. Marko was the favorite, but if Joost wasn’t disqualified, maybe the points would’ve been even more distributed.

But you know what? Marko actually got the best possible result you can get in Eurovision. People adore you, you become a legend and your country doesn’t have to deal with EBU’s bullshit. You get the best of both worlds and it doesn’t cost you a cent.

Also, consider that Marko accepted his 2nd place graciously and maturely, went back home and was welcomed by basically the whole Zagreb (Let3 were there too! Kings supporting a king, very fitting). And in an interview, he said something like “I don’t care about the jury points, because the jury doesn’t come to my concerts”. Which proves he is:

a mood

a king

the truth oracle

everyone’s spirit animal

the winner of the people

the coolest guy ever

So, Croatia: I understand your disappointment, the jury system REALLY needs to change. And no, you won't host Eurovision next year. But consider that you're everyone's favorite country now. And you won't have to deal with whatever shit will happen in 2025! So sit back, relax, may your tourism thrive and your quality of life be high.

And if all of you people really enjoyed Baby Lasagna, please consider he has a YouTube channel and there are two other songs, besides Rim Tim Tagi Dim. One criticizes social media and the influencer system, while the other is a piece of great life advice from the title: “Don't hate yourself, but don't love yourself too much”. Thank you, king, for being so real.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, they’re both huge bops.

Do your magic, people: subscribe to his channel, stream his songs, watch his videos, shower him with love and, most importantly, meow back.

_________________________________

Switzerland: a contest that can live up to its promise

In the end Switzerland won. And it’s a good victory, you know? You might not like the song, but consider that Nemo sang pop, rap and opera, all while jumping on that rotating platform-thingy and running all over the stage. And they even bent back, while keeping a high note and rotating. I can’t even keep a high note by standing still, let alone by doing all the stuff they did.

Also, this is the first victory for a non-binary person, so great for them. And basically no one knew Nemo before Eurovision, so the show came back to its roots, by giving fame to an unknown artist.

Last but not least, in an ironic turn of events, this victory is the least political thing that happened on that stage. In the most polarized, political show ever, the winner is the quintessential neutral country. Almost poetic, in a way.

And this victory is also a huge slap in the face for the EBU: in the end, it wasn't its rigid adherence to the policy that made the show non-political, it was the jury’s vote. How the tables have turned.

But there is another reason why this victory is good after all and it’s because it’s a hopeful one. The winner isn’t famous, they didn’t harass anyone, they didn’t use money to win, they brought nothing besides their identity, a kind heart and a flag they had to sneak in because of the weird “flag rule” EBU pulled out.

And I would like to remind you that, during their victory speech, Nemo said this:

"I hope this contest can live up to its promise and continue to stand for peace and dignity for every person in this world".

I think it’s a speech that tells everything about this year’s show. This year, the contest didn’t live up to its promise: it put people in unnecessary danger, it brought tension, it made it political. EBU’s strictness led to a lot of consequences, the exact ones it tried so desperately to avoid.

As a result, no one enjoyed their time. I didn't enjoy my time. When Sunday came, I was relieved that the week was finally over and I was able to leave Eurovision behind. I didn't feel an ounce of the usual post-Eurovision nostalgia. I was just glad it was over.

And it's sad and unfair, because Eurovision isn't this. Eurovision is a perfect little window of peace and unity, away from the chaos of the world. For a few hours, three evenings a year, we can leave the real problems behind and focus on silly ones, like which country should win, which should be forever ashamed and which artist will become a legend.

This year, it wasn't like that. This year politics found its way in and wrecked everything. What was supposed to be a silly, funny, lighthearted show became so heavily politically charged, it broke under the weight.

And now that I think about it, Nemo breaking the trophy is the perfect metaphorical representation of this year's competition.

Just like that trophy, Eurovision is something frail and beautiful and mishandling can break it. And oh boy, the EBU truly mishandled it. Even if it was an accident, even if it wasn't done on purpose, the trophy is still broken. The show is broken.

But when asked about their broken trophy, Nemo didn't mourn it: Nemo gave words of hope. Maybe the broken trophy can be repaired. And maybe Eurovision can be repaired too.

How? Well, maybe by starting to learn when and how to apply rules. By using common sense and sensibility. And by checking the world outside too. If we want Eurovision to keep being that small window separated from real world problems, we can't just ignore them: we need to check them and react accordingly.

And if we have to break a rule to guarantee peace and safety, then so be it. One broken rule is not as important as safety and unity.

After all, what makes Eurovision isn't a set of rules: it's the artists, with their talents, their messages, their hopes, their voices, their dreams. They are Eurovision. They are the pull that draws everyone in. They are the reason why people are "united by music". Not because a rule orders them to, not because of the EBU: because of these artists.

Maybe the EBU can start from that. Maybe it can start by looking at the human aspect. Maybe it can start by going out and looking around. And maybe it can learn to take more care of the artists who are the foundation of the show.

And maybe, maybe, they will be able to repair Eurovision too.

See you, hopefully, next year.

[maleyanderecafe]

Hi! I've been craving some yandere content that's not manga, webtoon, manwa, etc. Do you have recommendations that are movies, tv shows, maybe some kdrama too? Just not manga, anime and the sort.

Sorry this one took a kabillion years to answer. Back in October, Cherry and I basically had a yandere movie month where we would just watch a bunch of movies that were labeled as Male Yandere movies because horror month (which is unfortunate for me because I don't really like horro movies). Anyways, besides the short list here that has some TV shows, here's some stuff we watched. Some of this will be later put in as recommendations, probably on Tuesdays.

Hush Little Baby- we're going to start out with some lifetime movies because they're low calorie and turn off brain fun to watch. About a neighbor kid who comes in to babysit the main character's kid only to cause problems to the entire family.

Swim at Your Own Risk- another lifetime movie. About a swim team girl who has a fling with the swim couch after taking a break with her boyfriend. Things go wrong as the swim couch gets obsessed with her.

You Belong to Me - another lifetime movie. About a lady who finds out that someone is stalking her and tries to figure out who it is after they try to murder her boyfriend.

Addicted/Obsessed- Addicted is the korean movie and Obsessed is the English remake. About twins, one of which is married to the female lead, where they both have an accident. The husband dies, however, the other seems to have been possessed by the husband.

LadyHawke - older movie, but the yandere is the main villain. About a main character who escapes prison and finds a couple who is cursed to turn into a wolf and hawk respectively during the day and night, fated to never be together.

Well Intentioned Love- Chinese drama, though the yandere portion only really shows up in the first season. About a girl who has lukemia and has to have a contract marriage with the only person who can give her a doner bone marrow match. Driver is best character.

Disco Pigs- Pretty surreal movie in some cases. About two childhood friends, Pig and Runt who love each other as Pig becomes more and more obsessed with her as the movie goes on.

Labyrinth - I probably won't write a recommendation for this one because the yandere portion really only shows up in the song, but it's still a fun movie with David Bowie. I even read the comic for it just to check but the yandere portion seems to only show up in the song.

The Boy - I actually watched this with another friend that was obsessed with wallmen, but its a pretty fun movie overall. I think most people know this one though. About a lady who moves in and babysits a doll while trying to escape her abusive ex.

Within - also another movie I watched with my wallmen obsessed friend. About a family that moves into a house that turns out to be haunted in one way or another.

What If…Dr. Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands? - Sorcerer Supreme in general in general seems like a yandere since his entire goal is to just bring back Christine at all costs. He also just generally shows up in other episodes of the What If? Series.

Heathers - I heard the movie version isn't nearly as yandere, but the musical version is for sure.

Phantom of the Opera- I'm kind of cheating with this one because it's like one of the OG male yandere stuff, but hey, if you haven't heard or watched it yet, well you know.

That's about it for now since usually Cherry and I don't watch a ton of movies. Might change after a while, but we'll see. Maybe in February we'll try to have a tv drama month to watch stuff.

[marimayscarlett]

I need more unhinged Richard quotes, like the whole “[coc*ine when you’re young vs when you’re old]” thing or I may simply pass away

Hi Hello 🤗

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while, but now I finally come around to compile some more quotes from Richard's interviews (here is 'Part 1' so to speak).

Off to another tiny little round of stuff Richard says (some are interesting, others a little weird or downright unhinged):

I think the quote you mean is this one [from this audio interview]: "It's like, you know, it's like you know when you were young and could do coke for a fucking month and nothing, y'know? When you get old you need to recover from fucking one week." (and the interviewer is seemingly quite lost: "haha..true..👀")

Now, on to the Fellfrosch gem [interview]: Interviewer: Perhaps the disgust at the bitter aftertaste is really just a problem of overly careless personal hygiene? Richard:  "Tastes change too. Much of what seemed too bitter to us in childhood tastes good to us today. On the other hand, we usually find the sweets from the past too sweet. Every fur frog tastes different. Pure question of taste. There is no judgment in the text. We’re not saying it stinks."

His readiness to try out his talents with on-screen eroticism some more [interview]: "After I shot some erotic scenes for a video the other day I could also imagine doing an entire film in that direction. I was quite nervous in the beginning, but the longer we were shooting the more fun I had. Erotic, mind you, not pornographic."

in the same interview, he discloses the two main activities which bring him relaxation: "I love lying in bed, smoking and watching good movies more than anything. That is the only thing where I can really switch of other than sex. Lots of both, please. [laughs]"

And another quote from said interview regarding in which time period he would've liked to live and about his affinity to the middle ages (which for me as a history geek is so lovely to see that he is into that period as well): "I guess the sword and blade time as I always call it. Knights templar, 11th century. I can answer that this well, because I like to watch even stupid movies when they deal with that period. I just have a huge affinity to it somehow and would love to find out how things were going back then."

The way he pressurized/threatened (?) Jonathan Davis to sing a high note for the song "Silent so long" (man Richard must be such a nice fellow to work with 👀) [interview]: "But there was a high note in the chorus that Jonathan couldn't quite get right. So what to do? He said he couldn't sing that high. So I grabbed the receiver and whispered the following into his ear: "Watch out, Jonathan. This is the German way! Now take both your hands, grab your balls and squeeze until you get that damn sound."

Touring is hard, but partying is even harder [interview]: "Touring is not the problem, but partying is. If you went straight to the hotel after the show - no problem. But if you party until six in the morning, it's getting increasingly more difficult to get out of bed."

Being super vague in moments where we need more facts from him like in this interview, about the "Bück dich" performance of Till and Flake: "If Till had to do it to me… I would probably you know, like… uhm.. I'll do… something."

this whole feverdream here: an interview for the promotion of the first Emigrate album back in 2007, where Richard and his alter Ego "Mister Emigrate" answer the questions 'together'. It's has a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde vibe to it but is kind of cute ✨

On a more serious note, here he talks about the effects of drugs on him: "I took a lot of cocaine. You reach dimensions that you could never reach otherwise. You can edit a bass drum for eight hours."

Thank you for your interest in even more stuff Richard says 😌

[jackwhiteprophetic]

okayokayokay you asked for asks so i'm asking (i'm hoping these aren't things you've already answered, and for like a dissertation back because i love reading all your thoughts)

i think s7 really suffered from inconsistent writing (and a plot that wasn't cohesive at all, esp because it's an ensemble cast) do you think s8 will do better? i'm really hoping it does.

i miss shenanigans. like s7 definitely had some but i think the season was so short and a little all over the place, i feel like we deserve some hijinks (esp because of gerrard being back)

if you had like an ideal disaster arc that led to buddie getting together (i'm thinking shooting 2.0) what would it be?

also i love carlo's song

I LOVE ALL OF THIS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH. Unrelated but I'm currently feeling SO pissed off because I tried to long onto my childhood email account for nostalgia fun and THEY DELETED ALL MY OLD EMAILS.

I love to hear that people like to hear me talk, especially about 9-1-1, so THANK YOU ALSO!!! I really love your questions, and never worry about if I've answered them before because I will always answer again AND I actually have no memory of anything I say ever, so I will probably think it's a new thing every time.

Yesss so I think with S7 the writing was rushed and the filming was rushed due to strikes and stuff, and the new network, like it was all fresh and new and chaotic. They knew the things they had to hit (cruise ship, Madney wedding) and they hit those well. But in between it didn't flow very well, because they shifted things around. I think the issue started with the Bachelor (not party) crossover in 704. They had to swap over different storylines to make room, they ended up deleting an entire scene they had films and that we had stills for (which I think was someone up high somewhere which COULD HAVE BEEN A VERTIGO REFERENCE???). So yeah. Things went downhill a bit because while individual storylines were interesting, people were kept fairly separate and there weren't even really any team scenes where they all discussed things (because they weren't sure which order they'd do, they can't have Buck and Eddie slightly annoyed at each other in the background of a Hen and Chim scene bc they might swap the storylines between episodes the week before the episode airs).

And to make up for the lack of fluidity, they had the medal ceremony. Which just didn't really hit, maybe because we'd seen so many stills that we didn't get scenes of, and because yeah, it wasn't very fluid so bigger scenes felt kind of off? It must be so fucking hard for the actors to be making decisions for scenes when they don't know which order it's going to have been in.

I also think they slowed down after they found out about season 8, and they've already started writing, and I think the fact they have more time to film and more actual episodes will mean it's more fluid.

I do find it so interesting though how the fact that they only had 10 episodes and essentially still tried to fit 18 episodes of plot into that, tied with them knowing there may be new viewers and having to reintroduce characters and dynamics, they reduced relationships right down to what they are prioritising that the viewers see. So we have Bathena and Bobby grappling with his past, so the audience knows Bobby's past, and we have Hen and Chim and how their families are linked and their own family dynamics, we have Maddie's past and the Madney and Henren families, and we have Buck and Eddie, so massively and messily interlinked this season.

We barely saw Buck with Maddie, HIS OWN SISTER, this season, and their only scene just the two of them was not really about Maddie at all, it was about Buck and his life and also his relationship with Eddie. So yeah, they really really focused on highlighting the key dynamics they wanted us to see this season. Which is very interesting. I just wish they had done it more fluidly, but oh well.

I am really hopeful for next season and the writing, and I am also FUCKING STRESSED EVER SINCE TIM MINEAR SAID HE DOESN'T LIKE TO PLAN THINGS... WE CARE ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS A LOT... PLEASE PLAN THINGS!!!!!

But yeah, they never had time for filler episodes this season, the episodes where little happened (one could argue 705, 707, 709ish) weren't really filler episodes, they were more episodes that were having to tie up loose ends from the last and establish the next episode. If that makes sense? I also think they just decided this season that they didn't really have much time for firefighting? Which idk, it's disappointing, but yeah, they actually did not have much time and people remember the personal things more????

ANYWAY I AM SO HOPEFUL FOR NEXT SEASON AND I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE? but also I really enjoyed writing it anyway!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS ALWAYS!!! THEY BRING ME MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF JOY!!!! And yes Carlos song is fucking incredible I am so excited I am going back to the place I first heard it next week!!!!!

Have a beautiful day if possible, and I love you all and I think you are doing amazing!!!!!! REMEMBER TO EAT AND DRINK AND SLEEP AND SUCH!! and also do something fun, like if you have nice food then just eat it, you don't have to justify it to yourself I'm literally telling you to! Trust your instincts especially if they're positive ones!!!!!!!!!!! I'm just rambling now, my phone is on 5% we shall see how long it lasts!!

[anonymouscatloaf]

"You know, he's the yin to my yang. He completes me."

So the funny part about Dan repeatedly calling Perry the yin to Doof's yang (besides the fact that he can just freestyle some Greek tragedy level bullshit about Doof & Perry's relationship on the fly for Radio Disney or an episode commentary track) is that at face value you might also be like, okay but why is Doof the "yang" (light) and Perry the "yin" (dark)?

I didn't say good vs evil because that's not what yin and yang are about. As a concept it's one of those terms from another language that have variable meanings in English depending on who's using it and why, but its most enduring interpretation - with the disclaimer that I am not a philosopher, just someone who is far too invested in overthinking relationships in a kid's cartoon - is the idea that they are opposing but complementary forces of the energy that the universe operates on.

It's a balance. According to Lao-Tzu, "everything is embedded in yin and embraces yang; through [vital energy] it reaches [harmony]". Two sides of the same coin, sun and moon, my other half - you get the idea. It's not hard to see why Perry and Doof are complementary but opposite; one can't exist without the other: Perry all but gives up evil when Doof has that brief dalliance with Peter; Perry has exactly two POV songs in the entire show and both of them relate to Doof, one of which explicitly states "[his] life, it seems, is empty" without Doof's scheming and he "gave [Perry's] life heroic cause"; and he straight up has no idea what to do with his life and makes the saddest platypus sound ever when Doof bans thwarting as Tri-Governor in LDOS.

On the other hand, Doof is a lot easier to see - partly because he actually talks (though Perry is actually one of the most facially expressive characters in the show - by necessity - though I digress). He's overt about his affections and very clingy (a result of childhood trauma and abuse/neglect by his parents) because Perry's his only real friend. He all but begs Perry to thwart him in that whale episode, he became really upset when Perry seemed to be helping him in the episode with the Dull-and-Boring-inator but was just using him to fix the problem with Phineas and Ferb, and he can't bear to leave Perry behind in Road to Danville, just to list a few sillier examples off the top of my head. Really, the entire B plot could be used as evidence.

(There's also the fun dynamic of Perry being an animal that has human-level sentience, and Doof being a human that was raised by animals - ocelots - during some of his formative years.)

So they're irrevocably intertwined. One of the most important characters in each other's life, according to Dan from SDCC 2015. The LDOS ending song even puts Perry smack dab in the middle of the Doofenshmirtz family with Heinz, Vanessa, and Norm - two other characters deeply wrapped up with Perry as a result of Doof himself. I mean, look at them:

Yeah, this was an excuse to make you look at one of my favorite scenes and witness Perry's hopelessly fond smile, not sorry.

Anyway, back to yin-yang. They were originally ascribed to just "day" and "night", and eventually came to also mean "movement" (because you work during the day), and "rest" (because you sleep at night). In terms of qi, they embody heaven and earth, and in the collection of essays of the Huainanzi, "yang is generated from yin and yin is generated from yang [...] sometimes there is life, sometimes there is death, that brings the myriad things to completion". Technical details of Chinese philosophy aside (which I'm sure exactly nobody is considering when they call someone the yin to their yang - it's really just the "you complete me" part), the words themselves also have various opposing definitions: positive/negative, active/passive, sun/moon, overt/covert, etc etc etc you get the idea.

In terms of their relationship, Doof has the more active role. He's one who makes the crazy inators and plots elaborate traps and monologues everyday; Perry usually just reacts to that accordingly. Doof play-acts at a lofty, larger-than-life "evil", while Perry keeps him grounded ("you are my rock" and "having you around just makes me feel, you know, safer"). Perry isn't necessarily a wholly passive character, but also, like, a lot of his plot is just Shit Happens and Perry Has to Deal With It. Doof is overt about his "evil" schemes and can't stand even white lies. Perry spends his entire life hiding aspects of himself and keeping secrets from his loved ones, and he has a whole song in CATU about being an unrecognized hero. One of these characters is living in the "dark" more than the other...

Doof is overflowing with emotions - most of them negative, but also love: so much so that his daughter feels smothered, because a lot of that love (while borne of good intentions) is misguided, and Doof fails to actually listen to her; it takes a few rocky starts (helped along by Perry himself) before they get to the point where Vanessa considers her dad a "misunderstood genius" and convinces him to give up evil. On the other hand, Perry keeps his cards close to his chest - it's not that he doesn't know how to emote (he clearly adores his boys in ATSD and he apparently is happy to hang out with Doof as a friend outside of his job enough that he has a whole wallet of photos of them just goofing off together), he doesn't because of necessity. He's better than anyone at separating his work life (fighting evil) from his pet life (pretending to be a mindless animal) from his personal life (how much he loves his family, watching his silly dramatic soaps, having a petty streak and sassing Monogram a bit, is genuine friends with Doof).

As a result, he is full of emotions he rarely gets to express - around the Flynn-Fletchers specifically, because Doof does know he's sentient, which is another reason I think they click. Doof gets the single-minded attention he never had; Perry gets the treatment as an equal he never had. They both gain a friendship, and a new sort of family. There's a part of their life imbalanced when the other isn't present.

The yin and the yang. They complete each other.

[procrastinatingattorney]

my book of bill reactions!

Ford making regular appearances in the book like the fucking drama queen he is, complete with disapproving dramatic selfie god damn

Fucking ‘cipherholic’ and god damn jack skellington moth

Bribe me properly with a stan twins spinoff, old man

(listening to ghost tricks ost at the same time and this truly is a chicken kitchen page)

–

That square image better not be fucking loss

–

These codes with tiny font are such a pain lol, i’m using someone’s incomplete cipher on twitter and its kinda fun filling in the blanks

"Between lives"… so this is before the axolotl reincarnated him

Not the parallel universe where mabel OD-ed on smile dip

Kinda fun using the reflection on my phone to read the mirror page

--

The first dream page and not ford and soos having light hearted shit while everyone else has nightmares (stan seeming to have a mix of the portal incident and the science fair) no mcgucket on that page for some reason tho– oh wait nevermind there's a full page for him and it freaks bill out

Oh there’s the oracle as an ex henchmaniac i think

bill's license plate being a ciphered ‘suck it’ …. So close to saying fuck

--

“My hole could be yours”

--

got to the advertised "extra journal 3 pages" and im fucking losing it omg

also the sixer nickname being used so much in the books and comics is almost funny when you realise that it was only used twice in the actual show

we finally got proper paranoid ford era content and its so painful its great

also god damn even before the paranoid era theres an entire section where bill was like "haha you should've eaten your twin" "haha if you ever met the monster who destroyed my dimension it'd eat you alive" mY GUY THE RED FLAGS

Not ford being told to see therapy way back in college omgggg

Baby stan twins in an ugly hannukah sweater omggggggggg

Oh wait i just realised the first page has some stuff cut from the leaked preview :((( rip no twins kicking the shit out of the statue and hitting it with a crowbar-- oop nevermind my pages were stuck together so i missed the first goddamn page

NO NOT THE FUCKING CRINGE ASS ANTI BILL SUIT WITH THE BRAIN,, FORD NO

SAHDSDHSAK THE EX WIFE JOKE- BUT NO NOT THAT BEING ANOTHER THING FROM THEIR FUCKING DAD

so glad that theres an entire section expanding on paranoid ford era

The joyride section holy fuck

Aw hell yeah the fucked up section which probably bumped this book to an older audience rating

Ford thinking that stan wouldn’t last if bill got into his mind when we have evidence that he has ridiculous amount of control over his mindscape….

Also him remembering what exactly stan looked like when he was begging for help and him using their childhood code…..

--

Is the first fucking reference to the axolotl a coded hot sauce message ‘hotxolotl’ near the end of the fucking book

Been having the ghost trick on loop and the ending song playing as i get to the family section was great timing lol

Me throughout the entire book: boo there’s only a few pages mentioning stan

Me at the stan page:

but also then immediately going “oh shit he has the same handwriting as the bill font in the lost J3 pages” 

Also weh decoding stan’s cartoon censor swears which translates into ‘love ya bro’

(another weh at him signing off as stanley pines)

boo at the lack of acknowledgement of the ridiculous amount of control stan has over his mindscape tho

bill only mentioned him like once before the journal page sections because he's so mad lmao

--

finished it!!! was worried too if it was gonna somehow ignore the whole axolotl being the one to let bill reincarnate thing but the ending really was it going rip bozo go to therapy

attempting the ciphers was pretty fun altho im sleepy and missed a few

(also same coin theory isn’t dead so im a-okay with this lol)

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "A Dicey Situation" Episode Followup, Part 1

Captain O origins episode! "Totally Odd Squad" Mk. II! Call it what you like, I'm just hoping this is good. After the hell that was "Mission O Possible", I like to be prepared. Almost anything could surpass that, really.

Let's dive in below the break! (Pun unintended.)

...It's another Tasha episode.

I can hear that stupid "oh no" TikTok song playing as I fucking type this. I'm not confident after "The Triangle Sisters". I'm praying to Don't-Fuck-This-Up-God.

Hey. Hey. You guys remember when Otis threw a fit because Rebecca was exploiting Odd Squad for moving services?

This is just as egregious and yet will go entirely undetected. You don't need two pseudo-government agents to pull up Google Maps and punch in the location of the nearest Aldi's, for God sakes.

I see this milk came from the same cow that the Town Baker's milk came from.

I'd go investigate that cow, really.

You guys also remember Otis giving therapy to a plant?

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS BUT IT'S MILK. And it's just as amusing here as it was there.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"

Thank you, edutainment overlords, for this obligatory healthy eating message.

Asshole cereal box is making up lies for himself, methinks. Dude just tipped over on his own the second his owner picked up the milk pitcher.

hhhhheeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY THIS AIN'T MY SWAMPS 'N GATORS. WHERE'S MY SWAMPS 'N GATORS YOU CHUCKWADS.

...No but seriously what is this game and why does it look like Odd Squad Risk to me.

I remember when there was a brief shot of Oona failing at chess and Oprah telling her that's not how the game is played.

That was fun.

This is fun too, and nice to see, but it doesn't hit the same.

Good segue. Not as good as Oprah calling everyone out on their RPS strategies.

(You will see me make a lot of TOS cracks and references. I will not regret a single one of 'em.)

Hot damn, she can dim the lights with her mind! That's craaaaaaaaaaaazeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

So that would make her ship the Odd Squad Odd Squad.

Instead of Screw Steamer Odd Squad, or Steam Ship Odd Squad, both of which sound much better.

And are actually canon in the franchise.

(No, really. Go listen to the Squadcast. The S.S. Odd Squad is a 100% canon ship.)

Honestly, if you had told me about a year ago that that sailor in that promo picture SSE put out was a chef named Osgood, I'd have laughed at you.

RIP to the days when I thought that sailor was an assistant of Captain O's and not her first mate.

Ohhhh, a wavy flashback effect! Standard in a ton of shows, but Odd Squad has never really employed it as far as I'm aware. Nice to see they're going to effect basics!

Aside from that, wow that is...a tiny ship. Tinier than I was expecting. I was expecting something huge and not...y'know...a little BB thing.

I'm sorry, I just did an entire fuck-ass wheeze at her saying SHE KNEW OSGOOD SINCE NURSERY SCHOOL.

These two ARE FUCKING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS.

Genuinely fucking flabbergasted, because it's rare that we get childhood friends who were main characters in this franchise and joined Odd Squad together. Not even Olive and Otto can attest to that! Or Olympia and Otis!

Best bit in the entire episode so far bar nearly none.

I mean...on the plus side, at least he only has two mouths to feed.

That being said, I will once again raise the issue of there being couch cushions in a ship like that.

...Goldfish.

Huge-ass Goldfish.

You can't fool me.

They're Goldfish.

If there is one thing I utterly despise about Captain O as a character, it's the stupid euphemisms.

They're not amusing. They're not funny. I've heard better from other characters.

Okay, a shell phone is actually pretty clever. One point to Tasha, and don't make me revoke it as quickly as I did last time.

(Choosing to overlook the fact that there's an Admiral because...I mean...pretty standard sailor stuff. And me and other fans can work with the lore.)

Definitely not the intent, but I can't stop reading this line as utterly sarcastic since Captain O did a hard aversion off the "Newhart Phone Call" cliff.

"So this look isn't a fashion choice?"

Osgood, you poor Ohlm-like sonuvagun.

No, sir, actually those are holes. They got depth to 'em. Swiss cheese is not made with polka dots.

"See? You're a fashion trendsetter."

Ohhhhh it's like...the woman in "Double O Trouble"...but 's...fuckin' polka dots...

Great, I hate it, thanks.

*squints*

*more*

*even more*

...Bitch that is a cluster of fucking trees. That is not an island. Now how and why would you spend pounds on a fucking CLUSTER OF TRE-

THIS IS HOW THEY CHOOSE TO REMIND US THAT ORLI AND OZZIE ARE STILL HERE?????? WITH THE OBLIGATORY MATH LESSON?!?!?!?!?!?

Oh piss ALL the fuckin' way off.

If this is gonna have a lesson at the end, like in "The Weight of the World Depends on Orla", I'm going to lose my fuckin' mind.

Because, for all that Season 3 sucks, that episode was actually pretty solid.

it was just her and osgood

this guy shows up

not even the two canon characters from the odd squadcast they could've used

...I get it. You need someone to steer the ship. Fine. But for the love of God, just include the one driving the boat in your roll call!

I'm...I'm so tired. We are halfway into this episode. I am tired.

I honestly can't be bothered to ask why this woman has a rotary phone and how the fuck it can get service out here where there would, in most other instances, be no phone lines. Or electricity. OR FUCKING SPEAKERPHONE.

I do like the pirate getup Dottie here has going on, though.

Well, the last time a villain alleged to not have a pattern...they had a pattern.

I don't expect Dottie to be much different in that regard.

ohhhhhh oodelallyoohdelally it's the chekhov's gun wheeeeeeeeeeeeee-

She spun in the chair for all of time, bored out of her wits.

(On to Part 2!)

[neengareadynaaready]

Salaar Part 1 (FULL SPOILER-Y REVIEW)

I finally saw Salaar on Netflix, and as promised, I am going insane over the guys Varadeva.

MUSIC

Music is by Ravi Basrur, same guy who did the scoring of KGF. Let me start by saying that I absolutely loved the songs of KGF. They were high-energy songs perfect for getting yourself hyped up for something. I went into watching Salaar expecting the same thing, but I was proven wrong.

The songs in Salaar are actually more varied. The children in the school singing, "Prathi Gaadhalo" gave me goosebumps. I applaud the fact that Ravi Basrur has such range and versatility in the music he composes and arranges but you can still see his signature in his creations.

KGF & SALAAR?

Speaking of signatures... The visuals are beautiful. Obviously, Prashanth Neel's style is coming through in KGF and now Salaar. Also, there was something in the way the story is told to Shruti Haasan's character, just like how Rocky's story is narrated in KGF.

90% (or more) of mass action films have a flashback portion where the hero's backstory is revealed. In most cases, it's to clarify the hero's motivation or to show us his heroism/what he suffered/his traumas, etc.

In Salaar and KGF, the flashbacks are the entire story. In KGF, it's through an interview for things that happened in the past. In Salaar, the present and the past are more connected. It reminded me of Baahubali Part 1 where the present-day events make up the first half before we then dive into the entire backstory of Amarendra Baahubali. Mahendra's/Shiva's story in the present only really starts in the 2nd movie.

So this is where my ramblings lead to: we all know SS Rajamouli is thinking on a bigger scale. He's thinking epics. With KGF and Salaar, it feels like Prashanth Neel is gearing up for that, too. A lot of the people who dismissed KGF said it was because it was style over substance, which I'm fine with, to be honest, because what PN was trying to do in that movie was obvious, from the storyline to the music especially. He was trying to create a legend, the Legend of Rocky Bhai. Even if the story is not that unique and/or cringe, the fact is Rocky Bhai will now go down in history as one of the most unforgettable mass action characters of Indian cinema.

Here, in Salaar, we get a new world. It is in Khansaar where our epic unfolds.... (At least that was the vibe I was getting while watching.) I mean, Prithviraj said Salaar had Game of Thrones vibes. I'm a sucker for court politics in an interesting new world, so I was hooked. Also, that revelation of Deva being the rightful heir to the throne? C'mon, it's obvious, but it's a classic for a reason. It's such good angst and how Varadha and Deva navigate this revelation when it's revealed to everyone in Part 2 is gonna be amazing.

VARADHA and DEVA

In general, I think most of the characters are very interesting. Not gonna lie, I lost track of some of them midway through the movie. I was consumed by Varadeva every time they were both on screen.

Look, I kinda wished Ranga was still alive so there's that one character that has it out for Varadha and Deva would have to come to his rescue again in Part 2. Anyway, he was an interesting character because he spiraled so fast, and he was always clinging to Rudra's arm and going "I have never asked you for anything since childhood. I want Varadha." and then he was bawling his eyes out, like what a certifiably insane character.

Prabhas and Prithviraj's interactions were really very interesting and fun. I wish we had more. They bantered while fighting, and you can feel they're the type to make fun of each other and have fun. But you can also see how much they truly care for each other that time when Naarang was wielding his sword. They're like, "No, kill me, spare him." DUUUUUUDE. I loved that.

And when Varadha made up his mind, Deva was ready to support him. Who knows what's gonna happen in Part 2.

Action is okay. Was very nice to see them fight side by side.

OVERALL

The cast of characters, the story, the premise, the subplots going around... I'm excited for Part 2!

[initiumseries]

who are your favourite black characters - animated and not animated

Oh fun question. We capitalize Black in this house, and this is absolutely going to show my age but you asked, and I wouldn't say favourite for most, because I don't know that I have a strong attachment to every show but did like them, and you'll probably notice, most of the time they just have to be Black and on a show for me to like them so here we go:

As usual, in no particular order -

Numbuh 5 - Kids Next Door

I thought she was funny, and she was Black and that's really all it took for me, lol. I based one of my characters off her actually.

Miles Morales

I feel like this goes without saying.

Goliath - Gargoyles

LOL this is so funny to me because the VA is BLACK. And Goliath always read to me as Black, and Elisa Maza...anyway lol. It always struck me as deranged that whenever the gargoyles in general, but ESPECIALLY Goliath AND Demona turned human, all of them were always white. Just didn't make any sense even as a kid, and I blame racism. This is probably the only time I'll go up for non-human characters coded as Black and no I won't be arguing about this.

Out of the Box

This dude held me down after school every day and the song still SLAPS.

Mr. Trick - BTVS

He is SO unsung but I loved almost every scene he was in.

Lieutenant Van Buren - Law & Order

The only cop I like. she sued the cops for racism.

Detective Green

Before he was on that stupid DC show, he was a cop on a better show lmao. See above.

Storm - X-Men & Xmen Evolution

She's Storm.

Virgil Hawkins - Static Shock

One day we'll talk about what the fuck is up with all the Black people having electric powers, but today we'll put some respect on Virgil's name.

John Stewart/Green Lantern - Justice League/Unlimited

The only green lantern I recognize.

Vixen - JLU

John fumbled her BIG TIME.

Abbie - Sleepy Hollow

This show fumbled her BIG TIME. Lord release us from the shackles of Black people being cops in shows.

Papa Pope

He rocked my ENTIRE world off axis when he showed up and read Olivia for filth and then fucked up her white side piece.

Annalise Keating

She was SO messy, but she should've killed them kids too.

Michaela Pratt

I had issues with her SL but she was a real one.

Greenleaf patriarch & matriarch - Greenleaf

tbh with you it doesn't really matter what these two people are in, I'm going to watch the fuck out of it.

Lafayette - True Blood

I feel like this goes without saying. RIP.

Romeo Carter - Student Bodies

for OBVIOUS reasons.

Jett Jackson - Jett Jackson

Again, obvious reasons. RIP.

Ashley Banks - Fresh Prince

I liked her because she was around my age when I was watching the show.

This whole family - Family Matters

I don't have a favourite. This whole family was Black in a time where there were few Black people on tv much less whole families.

Hobie Brown - Across the Spiderverse

Obvious reasons.

Chloe - Sabrina the Animated Series

I feel like I've dug significantly into the archives of my brain. I'm sure there are characters I've missed, but this is what I could remember. Fun! - oh wait no!

Prudence

She stole the damn show. I watched for her and Ambrose *only*

Tak & Quellchrist Falconer - Altered Carbon

This sleeve of Tak specifically.

Michael Burnham - Star Trek Discover

She acts her ass off in any role so honestly it doesn't matter.

T'Challa - Black Panther

No I will not expand. Sigh. RIP.

All of them - Black Panther

Ok I think I'm done. I've reached into the archives of my childhood, and I'm sure there are more I've forgotten, but yeah, here's top of my head. :)

[iogenie]

I'm late to this but I am so tired of trying to look up pretty art of Wish and seeing so much hate for it. While everyone is entitled to their opinions, I feel like a lot of people who are hating on this movie missed the entire point of it.

For years, I've watched everyone say they wanted the 2D styling back, but then complain about Wish's art style. It's soft and colorful and beautiful. People say it looks cheap, but it truely doesn't. Everything moves fluidly, it's all cohesive, and it blends well with the more modern style of the characters faces. A wymsical art style does not make it a bad style.

While I think the promotion for the movie wasn't done correctly (as I also thought it would be dumb based solely off of the trailers), I definitely think people did not watch it with an open mind. Going into something already hating it often keeps people from seeing the true beauty of it. While it's a simple movie; the message is much, much deeper than people give credit for. The whole point wasn't granting wishes (either Star or Magnifico), but rather keeping your dreams and wishes close to your heart. Magnifico himself states early on that the wishes are the best part of someone. So the message is to be the best version of yourself and make your own dreams come true.

The music is so, so good in this movie. I understand why alot of people don't like the music. It feels off compared to other Disney movies. I think people don't realise or keep in mind that every song in these movies is designed the way they are on purpose. Most Disney songs are meant to inspire the main character (and also the viewers) to do whatever hard task they are facing. Personally, Go the Distance from Hercules has constantly pushed me to keep going well into my adult life. The songs in Wish have the same effect.

The opening song, "Welcome To Rosas" is bouncy and fun because Asha whole-heartedly believes in Magnifico and his protection.

"This Wish" is designed to make the viewers feel her pain and her emotional struggle with what she's learned and the loss of her father. (Side note: Most Disney movies simply skip over the dead-parent thing, while Asha actually addresses it.)

"You're A Star" isn't my personal favorite, but the message is still amazing. Finding the good in yourself and understanding that everyone is special in their own way, yet still connected by their love and experiences.

Magnifico and Asha's duet in "At All Costs" was so beautiful and one of the few songs most people seemed to like. They both agreed that the wishes were pure happiness and would do anything to keep them safe. Magnifico genuinely cares about his people and their happiness. He's vowed to protect them all from the horrors he faced in his childhood. The connection they share is pure and good.

"This is the Thanks I Get!?" is, by far, the most hated song in the movie. Personally, it is my absolute favorite. People compare it to "Hellfire," which is entirely unfair. "Hellfire" is an entirely different genre with an entirely different meaning. From what I've seen, most viewers didn't like that the song seemed dispassionate and goofy. Magnifico is quirky and goofy through the entire movie, and I sincerely doubt anyone can say they don't do dumb things when they're alone. He works through his frustration and trauma by being himself; goofy. (I will circle back to all this later).

"Knowing What I Know Now" is purposely all over the place. It's another song I see people complain about, and I can understand why. The song seems chaotic and out of place; but keep in mind that these are all kids under the age of 18 who have no idea how to defeat an "evil" king or what they are really doing. The structure of the song reflects this. It's only when Queen Amaya enters the song at the end that everyone is on beat and the song comes together because they have found an adult to help them.

"This Wish - reprise" is extremely powerful. It's the entire kingdom coming together as they've finally realized what has been going on. They take the lessons Magnifico has taught them and uses them against him. The love they have for their kingdom and each other is powerful enough to stop the cursed magic in its place.

There's so many easter eggs in this movie. Each main kid character represents a character in another movie. Asha's friends are the 7 dwarves from Snow White. Asha is the Fairy God Mother from Cinderella. Valentino is the founder of Zootopia. Star is from Pinocchio. Saba Sabino writes the logo lullaby. Magnifico, (or rather the cursed magic) is the Mirror on the Wall in various movies, and seems to be the original magic for most Villians. Disney is well known for putting these little details into every movie they make, and Wish is the origin story for the whole universe. Personally, I think that's amazaing and very well done. I had lots of fun finding and pointing out the connections.

Now that I've gotten through all the points of the movie, I'd like to share my own theories. I absolutely adore the movie and haven't stopped watching it or belting out the sound track on my way to work. I love the original message the movie gives... but.

Magnifico is not evil. He's a narcissist, sure, but not evil. He very much cares about his people and their happiness. He started the kingdom in the hopes of saving others from the fate his own parents suffered and the trauma he went through. He loves Amaya so much and dotes on her the whole movie (until the end).

I think the cursed magic had been eating away at him for years before the events of the movie. He kept the book in his study where he spent most of his time, and he tells Asha that he put a spell on the glass to keep people out. This doesn't mean the dark magic isn't able to escape the case its in. The first time we see him even consider opening the book, Amaya is there to pull him from the edge. The way he softens and concedes to her logic is telling of how much he loves and values her. However, the pull of the magic is too strong to resist as his own emotions and trauma effect his mental state. By the time he's actively using the dark Magic, Magnifico isn't actually there anymore. It's just the cursed magic using him. He never would have attacked Amaya, or bound his people. He'd clearly never considered breaking/absorbing the wishes before doing so to Sakina's, as he (the dark magic) is genuinely surprised by what happens. At no point does any character in the movie think about the complete personality change their king goes through. Amaya says she's watched the good in him melt, but hadn't done anything about it because she'd loved him so much. But she'd been able to correct him when he was frustrated. So why does she give up on him so easily when he so clearly loved her? She knows what he went through as a kid and knows why he studied magic and built the kingdom. She knows why he protects the wishes and what he's willing to do for them.

Asha, however, doesn't. He tells her briefly that he suffered a great loss and he aims to keep others from experiencing the same things. She states this is why she wanted to work for him; then immediately takes it back when he refuses to grant Sabino's wish. She doesn't listen to his explanation, nor did she care. His frustration and outburst about deciding who deserves things is not entirely unjust, even if it was unnecessary. He has made it his life's goal to protect everyone, and while it isn't always fair, that does come with having to ensure some wishes aren't harmful. Yes, he could have and should have explained better or handled the situation differently; but he is the King and he makes the rules. The cursed magic is also influencing him at this point any time he gets frustrated.

Trying to get her Saba's wish granted may not have seemed selfish, but she does single handedly ruin the structure of Rosas. The point of giving up their wishes is that the people won't have to go through the heartache of unfufillment, and the chance to have them instantly granted. Naturally, granting wishes takes alot of magic on Magnifico's part and granting several in a row would be taxing on him. Asha says he grants one wish every month, and Magnifico says he granted 14 wishes the previous year. Based on what we see in the movie, he grants extra wishes to make up for things happening in the kingdom.

Personally, I feel Asha is too quick to turn on him. In the beginning she says you don't miss your wish when you say goodbye, and the people of Rosas chant about giving without regret when the two new citizens give their wishes. But the second Magnifico won't grant her family's wishes, her mind is changed without condering anything else. Magnifico doesn't correct her when she asks if most wishes won't be granted, but only focuses on her own families wishes at first. It's really only after she meets Star that she considers releasing all the wishes. And despite seeing potential danger in some wishes, Magnifico is still devoted to protecting them. He still considers them to be the best part of a person and worthy of protection.

As stated before, by the time the movie ends, Magnifico is all but physically gone. So technically, he truely did give up his life for what he considered protecting Rosas "at all costs". When he states one more time that this is the thanks he gets, Amaya tells him it's the thanks he deserves; being hung on the dungeon wall and left there. Kinda messed up considering all he did and gave up for the kingdom. They don't even try to save him or bring him back from the dark magic. Dahlia says the book mentions being unable to turn back once accepting the cursed magic, but I feel like if they could trap him and that magic in the mirror just by believing they could, why wouldn't they at least try to do the same for him? Sure, he was always a narcissist, but he was never evil and they all loved him and he, them.

It just feels unfair after everything. Disney villains tend to be unliked through their movies; Scar, Hades, Cruella, Ursula, Jafar, the Evil Queen, Magnificent, ect.

Viewers thought Magnifico wasn't a true Disney villain; to quirky and fun and missing those classic villain qualities. So really, why didn't his people at least try to save him?

None of these theories change my love for the movie and its message, I just think Magnifico deserved better. I'd love to hear other people's theories! I'm just tired of seeing so much hate for such a beautiful movie. 💙

[sharas-bae]

the green day concert last night was absolutely everything i wanted it to be. i went with 3 childhood friends, the core group who got terrifyingly obsessed with them in 7th-8th grade in the way that only 13-year-old girls can. and it was pretty much perfect. (long reflection/ramble below the cut)

the band played all of dookie (30th anniversary) and american idiot (20th anniversary, fucking how. that album came out a few months after we all got into green day and now it's two decades old??) and a handful of songs from other albums.

the show went on for 3 hours and it was so satisfying and exhausting that i was actually ok when it ended instead of disappointed like i was at the mcr show (though of course i also would've been perfectly happy if it had gone another hour). it was a blur of singing and dancing and moments of re-realizing that this was actually happening. i was actually grateful there were a handful of newer songs i don't know as well so i could step back and just observe and soak it all in again.

the weather forecast had been very concerning, up until late morning it had showed that there would be thunderstorms until at least 6pm and that it would be pretty much constantly raining the whole time. my friend who's hosting ordered ponchos for all of us. but it ended up almost entirely dry (if cloudy, which. not a bad thing).

during the dookie set it actually did rain for several songs, but it was mostly a heavy mist? so it was basically just enough to be memorable, fun, refreshing, and then just as i was starting to regret not throwing on my poncho it stopped. and prompted a 'philly, you made me wet' from billie joe which. sometimes low-hanging fruit is the best kind.

the band's energy was fantastic. mike was running around, billie joe did a lot of the freddie mercury style 'eyy-ohs' and revving the crowd. he is such a Performer, it genuinely seemed like he was having so much fun and getting into the Very Dramatic Faces. tre came out in a fluffy jaguar-print bathrobe to perform 'all by myself' (sidebar i was wondering the whole rest of the album if they'd include the hidden track and got way too excited that they did) and was doing the hammiest 'who, me?' striptease. their little solo moments throughout the show really showed off how good they are at what they do, even when the composition is relatively simple.

the crowd was singing and dancing through all of it and i actually ended up headbanging at one point, but i couldn't tell you which song. also my knee is sore, but i expected something to be sore after that.

they had a goofy little 'bad year' blimp balloon walk around the floor (did i mention my friend scored us floor tickets??) during sassafrass roots. phone lights came out in force for give me novocaine (not as sure why this one) and a lot of people put them up for a 'tribute to loved ones' version for wake me up when september ends, which yes did make me teary.

they also invited their first opener, the linda lindas, to play a song. apparently their set was canceled (presumably because storm forecast? i'm not sure). and wow they were very good and i'm definitely chasing down all their stuff. it was cool too because while i'm sure it sucks that their set got canceled, they ended up playing for a packed stadium instead of whoever showed up early or specifically to see them.

one of the things i love about going to shows for groups that have been around for awhile is the age range of the crowd. at this show, at the mcr show, at the backstreet boys show my bff and i went to in 2011, you get middle aged fans who were full adults when the band started, plenty of people our age who were kids or teens when they took off (or in green day's case continued apace i guess), and kids who are just getting into them now. it's just really really cool.

whatsername is always bittersweet for me, so it was even moreso last night. it reminds me of the girl who i had the disastrous homoerotic friendship with, because she was part of this little circle too. one could argue from a certain light that she was the ringleader of the levels of obsession we got to. and the nature of the falling out and then later drama in our early 20s with my bff means she wasn't there with us. and the bff situation means i don't want to mention it to her, because that girl caused her a lot of pain. but that song did make me cry a little, just a moment to grieve the fact that if things had been different (and frankly, if i'd made some different choices when i was 15) she would've been there with us too. it was maybe the only thing about the night that wasn't as close to perfect as one could expect, that weird hole that we've all quietly healed around but is sometimes still very present.

anyway i'm glad they didn't end the show on whatsername. (they played bobby sox off their new album and then good riddance, which was our class song at sixth grade 'graduation' and kicked off all of this). and then we sat down until they kicked us out so the crowd could thin out a little, and took the septa back, and on the walk to my friend's house some guys porch-sitting across the street asked us if we'd been at the green day concert and cheered when we said yes.

[kickinganddriving]

Heather

Notes: Crying so hard. but this was also so fun to write! this was also the first thing I wrote for my 200 follower celebration! so go check it out on my pinned masterlist.

paring: Boyfriend Charles x reader, Best Friend Christian x reader.

warnings: sadness, cheating, swearing

word count: 2.5k 

song suggestion: Heather by Conan Gray

You had been best friends with Christian since childhood, growing up in Hershey, Pennsylvania. It was a small town where you both couldn’t really do much, but that's how you both liked it. Once he moved away and made it big in Europe, it was time for you to pursue your life aspirations and dreams, and that also took you to Europe. Working for Scuderia Ferrari in the social media department, when you told Christian he was ecstatic that he was closer to you than before. Wherever one of you had a break for a few days, you already knew the other was on a flight to spend even a weekend together. Even though it was not a lot of time, you both simply enjoyed each other's company.

But when you started working for Scuderia, you were assigned to Charles Leclerc’s team, and you caught his eye. Spending nearly every day around him, you both grew closer together, eventually dating. A big part of being an F1 Driver, or being the partner of one, is the events and trips. Traveling to so many lavish places, not just for the job, but also on personal trips, Charles had taken you to places you had never heard of. It was all fun and enjoyable, but you just missed the downtime, and the grounded feeling you had back home, or that your piece of home, Christian provided. 

You were having dinner in Monaco with Charles, when Christian texted you, telling you that he was going to be in town for the Monaco Grand Prix, and that you both could hopefully get dinner together.

“What are you looking at mon chéri?” The monegasque asked as you checked a notification on your phone.

“Christian is coming here for the Grand Prix in a few days!”

“Oh how wonderful.” Charles answers while wiping the corner of his mouth with the white napkin, trying to put on a sincere smile, even though he is not the happiest. Christian and Charles did not get off to the best start, Christian was bitter the entire time about how lavishly Charles lives his life, and Charles didn’t love Christian being so critical of the way he lived, and also was raised. 

“I know you both are not the best of friends, but promise me you will try to get along?” You propose to drive.

“Anything for you ma petite amie '' Charles responded as he pulled your hands in to kiss your knuckles. 

“Thank you.” you say flashing a genuine smile with hope that the two men most important to you could finally get along. 

It had been a few days of non stop work leading up to the Prix, since this was technically Charles’ home race, there had been a lot of press and social media attention on him, making your job even harder. It was also Monaco, hands down the biggest and most popular race, so there was already added stress. But driving to Nice Côte d'Azur Airport, which was quite a long drive due to it being in France, you felt all tension slowly slip away. Christian and yourself made a plan that after the race, you both would just hang out for a few days and breathe, due to both of your jobs being a clusterfuck of work and stress. If you were being fully honest, also living the socialite life with Charles really made downtime harder for you to attain, seeing that you are actively on the clock for work longer than he is. 

 All you pulled into the pick up lane at the airport, your eyes saw a familiar brunette. Quite literally running out of the car the minute you parked it, you ran into his arms, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Thank Jesus you are here.” You say muffled into his shoulder.

“I’m happy to be here.” Christian replies.

“How was your flight?” you ask to look up at him, as you pull away from his arms.

“It was a flight, how are you gorgeous?” he said, smiling at the use of the nickname he coined for you.

“Exhausted, work is a mess”

“Well let’s try to get you relaxed after the race.”

“That seems nice” you respond as you both load up the car and drive away.

Charles had organized a dinner for the 3 of you, but what he did not tell you is that he invited one of his friends, a bikini model, to dinner with the both of you. The plan was to meet Charles at the restaurant once you get Christian settled down in his room, and it was surprising to see Charles already sharing drinks with a brunette woman. 

“Ma belle petite amie! You are here!” The monegasque happily exclaims, as he stands up to greet you with a sweet kiss.

“Yes I am, who may this be?” You say pulling away from this kiss.

“This is Eliza, she was in town for a shoot, and since you were bringing a friend I thought I should bring one too.” He responded.

“Bonjour, i’m Eliza” you hear the model say as you turn your attention towards her. 

“Hello, i’m y/n and this is Christian, my friend.” You announce with a slight bitter tone.

 “Hello.” You hear Christian say matching your attitude.

One could say dinner was just a passive aggressive bitch fight between all four of you, Eliza was all over Christian which made you fairly mad for some reason. Charles was oblivious to your apparent anger, and Christian was just there dealing with all of it. So when the clock struck 10 p.m you were grateful that it was late enough for you to make an excuse to go home. The car ride back was even more awkward than dinner, with Charles and Christian making petty small talk, and you were still mildly heated about the entire dinner situation.

Once you got back to the apartment, you were honestly not sleepy but Charles was, so he made his way off the bed, and left himself and Christian in the theater to watch a movie. You let Christian pick the movie and naturally he chose Step Brothers, it was a classic. You both sat very close to the other, sharing a blanket, and during the movie you found a place on his chest. A position that you both sat in many times in your teenage years.

 After a point in time you noticed that Christian had stopped paying attention to the movie and started to look down and stare at you, so you leaned over his body to grab the remote and turn off the screen. 

“Why’d you do that? The football player asked.

“You were not even paying attention.”

“Yes I was.”

“No you weren’t, you were looking at me”  you say slowly lifting yourself from his body to sit up next to him. 

“You noticed.” You saw a shade of pink overtake his cheeks.

“I always notice, but why were you staring”

“It’s been a while since we have been able to spend time like this and I miss you.”

“I miss you too, this has been nice. Work is just so much, and I love Charles but he can be so clueless sometimes.” 

“You love him, wow” Christian exasperatedly exclaims.

“I know right, sometimes it doesn’t seem real, like he is such a nice person and all but he hides it all under this “‘Rich Fuckboy persona’” it gets confusing sometimes”

“Yeah” Christian responds, still trying to process the fact that you said that you loved Charles. He knew that you probably did love him seeing that you and Charles lived together, but hearing it come from your lips made it hurt. He has been in love with you since you were 13, but he also loved you as a friend, and he always rather have you as a friend than not at all. 

“I honestly don’t know at this point though, I feel like he doesn't fully understand me? Ya know like you do. It’s like all he wants to do is go here, and then go to this gala, and stay at a 5 star resort, and this and that. And I am kind of tired of it, like it’s all fun and stuff but I need a break. Like a few days on the couch, just hanging out, like that one time when I was in college and you visited me and made sure to take a break and we stayed at home for an entire weekend.”

“Just do whatever your heart wants you to do, that’s the one thing that we are always sure of. And if you ever need to make a quick exit and quit your job at Ferrari, there is always a spot at Chelsea waiting for you.” Christian assured you, hoping that your heart would take you to him. 

“I don’t really know what my heart wants, I just feel like I let the world make decisions for me and I just live them through” 

“Hey, look at me.” Christian softly says gently grabbing your shoulders to position yourself to face him. “You have always been self reliant and your own person, I don’t know when that changed, but I know the girl that forced me out of the kitchen to bake her own birthday cake because I was fucking up is still somewhere in there” As he speaks his hands move up to your cheeks, talking to you with passion and heart.  

“Where would I be without you dumbass?” You say with a small laugh.

“I have no clue.” You both just sat there in pure silence for a few seconds before you bodies move in almost perfect synchrony as you both lean in to press a soft kiss on the others lips. No tongue, no sexual tension, just a sweet and innocent kiss. But it was not really all that innocent. It took you a few seconds to realize who you were kissing and realize you had a boyfriend. Quickly pulling away, the both of you sat there in awkward silence before you peeped out that you were going to go to bed. 

But then the guilt set in, you have a boyfriend, you were going to sleep in the same bed as your boyfriend right after kissing another man. You had no clue if Charles had ever done shit like this, which made the guilt even worse. Silently slipping into bed, you felt Charles' body adjusting so you put your head on his chest. Placing your head on his chest you were overwhelmed with guilt, you had real feelings for him, but you had no idea how real those feelings were.  If almost it was on que, a single crystal teardrop fell from your eyes, onto Charles bare chest, rolling down his abs. He was fast asleep and all you could mutter was a simple “I’m sorry” before you drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning felt different from the others, almost like you were out of place. Your eyes opened to a warm light of the sun, gently gleaming down on your face. Your eyes turned to the side table where your wonderful monegasque man left you a kind note and a flower, the note read that he was going on a run, that he would be back soon, and that he loved you. You couldn’t help but smile, you truly didn’t deserve him. Grabbing your phone from the side table, your wonderful morning was ruined by a text from Christian saying that he was going on a run with Charles.  All you felt was panic for around 5 minutes until you heard footsteps leading up to your door, and it opened to reveal a sweaty Charles. 

“Good morning mon amie, let me take a shower and I will be with you right after.” He says with his thick french accent, as he places a kiss on your forehead, and walks into the bathroom that was conjoined with your bedroom.

“Ok.” was all you could reply with, the feeling of guilt passing through you like a ghost haunting a house.  You felt paralyzed to the bed, like if you moved before Charles came back, you might pass out on the floor. You heard a quiet knock on the door, almost like someone's hand was ghosting over the wooden door. 

“Come in.” You whimper out. When the door opened it revealed a very sweaty Christian.

“I know what you're thinking and he knows, you battered out of me on the run, he thought there was something between us and I couldn’t lie” He says, as you place your head in your hands.. With a few teardrops falling from your eyes, you had made your decision between the two men you loved. You didn’t know if you would ever be able to admit it out loud, but you had made your decision.

“Alright” you respond with a heavy breath. “I think he’s coming out of the shower, you should probably go.” 

“Ok, i’ll see you later.” 

“Yep.” Just as you respond Christian exits for Charles to walk in around a minute later. With a towel wrapped around his waist, dropping low on his hips, and his dark hair wet. Without any words, he smiles at you and goes to put on a pair of boxers, and joggers on. Silently walking over to your side of the bed, and sitting on the corner to face opposite of you, as you adjust to move closer to him. 

“Mon amour, I love you so much so if there is something you want to tell me, please tell me now so the pain will be easier” He said with his big green eyes staring into your eyes, lightly grasping one of your hands. 

“Charles.” Now there are tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, but I kissed Christian last night, and it honestly meant nothing! I was just confused, I missed up, and I was a bit upset with you, and I promise it meant nothing! But If you wanted to break up with me I would fully get it, but I do love you, so, soo much.” You plead to the man before you.

 “Thank you for telling me, you made a mistake, it happens to everyone. I love you Amour, I could never dare living without you. I also know how much he means to you, so keep on being his friend, just don’t kiss him anymore.” He says with a slight chuckle at the end.

“Thank you my love.” You respond as you lean over to give Charles a deep and meaningful kiss. You weren’t aware of it but as Christian passed through the hallway, he looked through the opened door and saw you kiss Charles. He didn’t know if he could do this anymore.

It just hurt too much.