#sorry for the negativity lately; things are tough

[blairelythere]

I pay $2000 dollars a month to live in a 900 square foot box.

I delivered $120 worth of fast food to an 8 bedroom house in a gated community. In that hour, I earned less than it cost to buy myself a frozen pizza and toilet paper that night.

My account was overdrawn. I was charged $35 for being $2 short.

Didn't have the money to pay for new car tabs when they expired -> $250 dollar ticket.

Rent was submitted by the due date but processed two days after. That was an $180 late fee.

I was discriminatorily fired because my self-harm scars are "triggering to others," and I "abandoned my job" after being harassed about it. Yeah, sorry, you should've stayed in the abusive work environment, bit your lip, and merrily carried on if you didn't wanna be fired. Oh, and also, you don't qualify for unemployment now.

Don't want to have to tell a future employer your dead legal name while job hunting? $200 filing fee, $150 record request, a court hearing, and 3 months of wait time for a name change.

Just reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you.

Disability payout is awaiting approval. Oh, sorry, the wait time is 6+ months for a response. Yes, we know that you're already legally disabled. Yes, you still have to wait.

Did you miss a credit card payment? Well, shucks, gonna lower that measly score now. Don't worry about how it's a qualifier for apartments, car loans, and mortgages; it certainly won't negatively ripple throughout the rest of your adult life.

I still have my things - my knickknacks and toys. For now. The fact that you haven't sold them is a sign that you simply aren't trying hard enough... did you know that? Times are tough! It's time to sell everything replaceable and irreplaceable. Things are just things, right? You must have nothing left before you truly may have help.

I can't quite capture the feeling I'm feeling.

You must have nothing left.

It's awfully expensive being queer, poor, and alive.

[oozedninjas]

Heyyyy I was wondering if you could do how the boys realize they're in love with you and how they react to said realization? Maybe even how long they'd take to confess??

Sorry if that's too much in one go or if you've already done it, ily and I love your writing <3

These are technically two requests so I'll just stick to "How they realize they're in love" if that's okay :)

MDNI / Turtle guys are mid to late twenties

BAYVERSE GUYS REALIZING THEY'RE IN LOVE

---

Leonardo:

Once he notices, Leo would carefully consider the implications that come with romantic emotions and reflect upon whether or not he's willing to go through what it entails to give himself to someone.

He would make sure this isn't just a fleeting thing before making any decisions on acting upon those feelings. Once he does, he'll drop little hints that surpass obviousness.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't that he is not brave enough to make the moves; it's just that he assumes that what he has to offer is little and prefers to give you all the signs. This way, if you want a relationship with him, you have the necessary tools to let him see that you do want to be courted.

Donatello:

Donnie's sharp enough to recognize what he's feeling the moment he discerns those exquisite tingles in his chest as something beyond just excitement. Yet, like the reserved creature that he is, digesting such emotions and coming to terms with them is… another thing entirely.

I think he would tough it out for the most part. Often bombarded by intrusive thoughts of a negative reaction on your side if you were to find out. His mind plays tricks on him, making him daydream about delightful dates with you, followed by the voice of mockery asserting that could never come to happen.

He has to be realistic. It isn't logical that someone as beautiful and brilliant as you are would risk being with a non-human creature who's not even biologically compatible with you. No, he's better off as your friend.

Raphael:

He knows what he feels for you; however, he refuses to accept it in his heart (or in front of anyone else, for that matter) because it would be too painful not to be reciprocated. Nevertheless, as his feelings for you grow, so do the desires to protect you and keep you safe and secure. This makes it difficult for him to conceal his true feelings to a sharp, tenacious eye as your own.

If he comes to confess his feelings, Raphael would strive to balance his rough exterior with moments of tenderness, as he recognizes the importance of displaying his softer side to achieve more deepening emotional connections.

Mikey

Mikey's excitement and eagerness to be around you would give him away in the blink of an eye. It's cute because he holds this "We should totally date! Haha, joking, joking... UNLESS!" attitude all the time.

I think he would express his feelings in a joyful, creative form. You can expect an outpouring of artistic expressions: drawings, poems, or spontaneous acts of affection.

I think Mike's the one with a higher rate of emotional intelligence; many lessons he's learned across his journey, and in his adult years, it's easier for him to establish his limits and boundaries. With this in mind, I think he would ponder if it's worth potentially ruining his friendship with you. If the answer is yes, he goes with everything he's got.

[yeetwinchester2]

Skipping

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Y/N had been struggling with her ED lately, but the team doesn't know that. Sent on a mission, and her partner doesn't know that it's been two days since she's eaten.

Warnings: Eating Disorder(s), passing out, angst

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

"C'mon Steve! Seriously? What else do you want me to do? She's been on every mission with me! I'm tired of her!" Throwing his hands in the air out of frustration. Bucky has had a hatred for Y/N for as long as anyone can remember. She's a former Hyrda experiment such as himself, yet they're polar opposites. Bucky is harsh, brutal, dark, seemling always seeing the negative. Yet, Y/N is kind, caring, light, and always positive. Everyone liked her. except Bucky. But she never let that get in the way of things. She treated him just the same as she did everyone else.

"She's one of our best, and so are you. I'm sorry Buck, but you need to get over it. You can out up with her for just a little while longer. You know how these things go. We get the best of the best. That's you two. We need both of you for this one. We can't have either of you back out."

"Fine. But this is the last mission with her. After this, I'm done. I can't take it anymore. Just something about her I can't stand."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Go get ready. We leave in the morning. Carrier 0430 sharp. We leave at 0500."

‐----------------------------

The morning comes, 0430 and the team has met at the carrier. Everyone but Y/N. Which is odd, considering Y/N is almost always one of the first to arrive, prepared and full of energy. The first to notice was Nat. Once it was mentioned, Everyone followed suit with confusion.

0440 and she still hasn't shown up.

0445 and still no word from her.

0455. Nothing.

Just as they were about to call over the comms, she appears, running up to the carrier, duffle bag in hand. Immediately blurring out an apology.

"Sorry guys! I got caught up in something. But I'm here now and I've got everything, I'm good to go."

"You sure? We were getting worried." Clint said unsure of what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm good."

Everyone just brushed it off and assumed she must've slept in or missed her alarm or something of the sort. But Bucky could tell something wasn't right. He didn't know what or why, but he knew something was off. He didn't say anything, though. It's not his business, why should he care?

Steve stood, getting everyone's attention. He pulled a small map from his pocket and laid it out for the team to see. "Alright, I know we already went over the mission, but here's a recap. Nat and Clint will take the guards at the right rear entrance, me and Tony at the left rear. Y/N and Bucky will talk the center. The main objective is to retrieve the hard drive from their maim computer system. They're smart, which means this won't be easy. Stay with your partner. Watch out for each other. If you get separated, you get hurt. Six of us exiting the carrier, six of us returning, understood?"

"Aye Aye, Captain." Bucky joking saluted.

‐----------------------------

The mission went as expected, until it didn't. You and Bucky broke through the center entrance doors and took down the first set of guards without any problems. It was cold, and the alarms seemed louder than usual. Everything seemed fine, maybe feeling a little weaker than usual, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Bucky was busy with several guards on his own, while you were lucky enough to handle them one at a time. You only had one or two more to take down, Bucky had a few more. You began to feel weaker and weaker by the second. The last guard put up a tough fight, eventually winning against you. Fighting with all you had, but it wasn't enough. You took hit after hit, in the face, the gut, the side, until all you saw was black.

‐----------------------------

Bucky sent bullets through one guard after another until he no longer had anything to shoot with. So, he turned to his trusty knives and combat boots. Kicking, punching, and slashing all that comes his way. He was pleased with his completion of his portion of the mission, that is until he saw you on the ground, beat. He didn't hesitate to rush to your side. For a moment, forgetting how much he hated you.

"It's clear over here, but Y/N is down." He says over the coms, letting the rest of the team know his plan.

"On it. How bad is she?" replies Nat, her voice laced with concern.

"Not sure. I'm gonna take her back to the jet and do what I can from there." He brings your unconscious body up into his arms and carries you towards the exit and back into the jet.

‐----------------------------

You slowly try to open your eyes, bringing up a hand to block out the bright light hovering above you. Suddenly, it dissappears.

"Hey, hey, lay back down. Y/N, it's Bucky. You went down during the mission and we are in the jet. We need to figure out what happened with you. What hurts?"

"Nothing much right now, I'm fine. Just got a headache," you say, swinging your legs across the side of the bed, attempting to brush off the embarrassment. Hoping and praying that he doesn't try to investigate any further, knowing it'll be 10x more embarrassing than what he's already witnessed.

"What happened out there? I've never seen you go down that quick."

"The guy just got to me and he was stronger than I must've realized. I'm fine though. Just drop it, please." You didn't want to seem rude, but more importantly, you didn't want him knowing.

With perfect timing, Steve calls over the coms, "Good work, team. We're done here. See ya at the jet."

‐----------------------------

Everyone else boards the jet, each one asking some version of "you ok?" And you just nod with a smile and hid it all the best you can. God, you're starving. It been two days since you've had a meal. You knew it wasn't good for you. You would've eaten before the mission, but you felt fine before. More importantly, you looked fine, so there was no need.

You had struggled with an eating disorder for a few years now. It had calmed down and you had almost forgotten about it for a while. One bad instagram post from a model or the wrong word being said or one bad joke about your body. That's all it took to trigger your ED.

You had started living with the team while it was getting better, so you never told them about it. You worked out with them, ate with them, appeared healthy around them. But when you were alone, it was quite the opposite. Doing anything to keep yourself from eating, doing extra workouts to burn the calories. The team never found out, but it has been getting worse and you're worried some of the team may have noticed something was wrong. They've said you look tired, or maybe even smaller than usual. All that last comment did was encourage you even further. So, you kept going, letting it get worse. Skipping more meals, avoiding the team as much as possible, working out every chance you get.

‐----------------------------

You were sent the the med bay as soon as the jet touched the base. You were checked over and over. Turn out, you only had a concussion and broken nose. It could have, probably should have, been much worse. You have Bucky to thank for saving you. From the med bay, you were released and headed straight to your room.

You walk down the hall towards your room, the one just before Bucky's. You want to thank him, but now's not the time.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

this is is definitely a part 1. but I get on Tumblr like once every 6 months so who knows if there will ever be a part 2.

[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)

[lorebeth]

Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Jing Yuan's child and but they ended up running away to stay with their mother because they keep messing things up especially after Jing Yuan and the readers mother got divorced. it takes awhile but a few months later the reader suddenly returned to the Loufu because of some disaster where the reader had been living with their mother and Jing Yuan also wanted to talk the reader so he would finally be able to apologize to them especially after he accidentally saw the diary they kept on their computer. (I was kind of inspired by the first episode of The Owl House season three Thank To Them for this request but If you're not not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight☺️)

I nearly cried bro I accidentally deleted everything I’m gonna sob but I rewrote it!!

IM SO SORRY IVE LITERALLY BEEN DEAD I SWEAR THE SECOND I WROTE FANFICS I GOT YHE MOST DEADLY COUGH OF MY LIFE I WAS SICK FOR THREE MONTHS STRAIGHT 😭😭😭 I HAD WHOOPING COUGH ISTG

My exams started a little while ago too and I had a request before this, I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH AND IM SORRY ITS SO LATE OMG I DIDNT MEAN TO DROP OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!!!

TW: mention of bad coping mechanisms - no outright mention of sh, yanqing and reader share a sibling bond, jing yuan is kinda ooc in my opinion… I genuinely think there’s a paragraph missing somewhere and a bunch of spelling mistakes so please bare with me 🙏🙏🙏 Yanqing referred to as brother multiple times near the end!!! 

It all started after the divorce. Your grades plummeted and your training sessions with your father became scarce. Your footing during combat was mediocre at best and you found yourself closing off from friends and even your own father.

He was worried about you from the beginning, never wanting you to be at the centre of the messy divorce especially during one of the most stressful weeks at the Luofu no doubt. The IPC had arrived on short notice and demanded immediate attention, leaving your father to worry about not only them but how you felt and your mental state too. 

How he showed his care however… It was not the best. He would make sure others spent time with you in his place, whenever you wanted to see him, you would be notified by a guard or one of his subordinates who would be tasked to hang out with you that he was unavailable and you wouldn’t see him until later. 

This did not make you feel better, instead you got into contact with your mother again, her reaching out and asking to spend time with you. You didn’t know how to feel and had mixed emotions but ultimately coming to the conclusion to give her a chance and slowly working up to a happier relationship with her again. Not only were you disappointed at your father but also your mother. 

She told you all about her new home and how it resembled the Luofu so much, how she would be delighted for you to join her one day. You liked that idea a lot! Especially since you had a feeling that your father’s subordinates didn’t want to babysit you anymore.

You worked on yourself and started training again, this time not with your father. The IPC had left weeks ago and promised to come back to settle matters with your father once and for all. You didn’t care about that though, you still hadn’t seen your father in a week up until the point of training.

“That’s right, Y/N!” Yanqing praised. He had become one of your closest companions and you both had a sibling-like bond: he knew you better than anyone else and you vice versa. He had become your pillar and knew all your secrets, even about the unhealthy coping you had developed and how to better maintain your emotions and habits during the tough days. 

Jing Yuan knew of you two’s training sessions and had guards keep him posted on your location at all times. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kept himself away from you at the fear of being neglectful and disappointing you again. He remembers the last time you both were in the same room, you had begged to play chess with him. He had pushed you away, saying;

“I’m busy, Y/N. Please go find someone else.” 

He in fact wasn’t that busy, he just couldn’t bare to see you and thought you were disappointed in him. He replayed that scenario in his head multiple times the entire week he’s gone without seeing you and at the back of his mind is the broken relationship with your mother. He cannot bring himself to forgive what he had done to your mother to make her leave, and he was worried you would eventually leave him as well. In desperate attempt, he would send you trinkets and clothing to try repair the missing attention he couldn’t give you, but you stopped taking them after a while. His heart couldn’t bare to see you upset at him, so he buried himself in his paper work. Surprising all those around him, especially Fu Xuan. She was extremely impressed and scared. She had no clue when he became so serious about his work and almost drowning himself in it. 

Fu Xuan knew it had to do with you. She was one of your mothers closest friends and knew that you went through one of the toughest situations of all, your parents both fighting for custody and ultimately putting you in the middle of their arguments. She also had to hang out with you in place of Jing Yuan sometimes, knowing exactly how you felt and being able to read you like an open book. She couldn’t help but feel angry at your father, cursing him and his stupidity. For a General, he sure was an idiot for denying you the love and attention you deserved, instead making others give it to you when you instead needed your father.

You fucked up. Earlier this morning in a final attempt to reconnect with your father, you walked in on a meeting of his. You had no clue he had visitors and you went everywhere in the house trying to look for him. He never let you get involved in meetings - stating you were too young and shouldn’t worry about such trivial matters. You tried to respect his wishes every time, knowing he was a well respected figure and you didn’t want to mess that up for him.

“So, this morning I received word from-“ the voice of your father stopped as you opened the door to his private study. His closest subordinates sitting around a table, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Everyone turned to look at you and you felt your face get hot, your knees wobble and tears prick your eyes. You screwed the fuck up. 

“I’m sorry! I was just-“ you couldn’t finish off the sentence, you felt your throat closing up in panic. You made eye contact with everyone, noticing pity and sympathy in their eyes. You hated it so much… But what caught you the most off guard was the hard expression on your fathers face. His eyes calculating and holding an emotion you couldn’t decipher. You wanted to explode on the spot.

Quickly and almost aggressively, you slammed the door behind you, shaking the hinges and wanting the ground to swallow you whole more than ever. 

The look in your fathers eyes. Was he disappointed with you? Did he have enough? Did he not love you anymore? Were you being too pushy about hanging out with him? Why was he looking at you so coldly? You wanted to cry and sob and forget about everything. Go back to the days before the divorce. You wanted everything to be the way it was. Going out with your mother and father, being showered with love and affection, being given small trinkets that your father said reminded him of both you and your mother. 

You felt yourself spiralling again. You needed to go see Yanqing and quick. 

“Oh Y/N…” Yanqing nearly pleaded with you. He knew that look on your face, your swollen eyes and your weak frown, he was immediately sympathetic and knew something bad happened between you and Jing Yuan. 

Yanqing himself considered Jing Yuan his father in a sense too and you his sibling, so he knew you well enough to grasp you and Jing Yuan’s connection. He also loved your mother as his own and the divorce hit him pretty harsh as well. But he understood they fought about you the most, and how helpless you felt. He never held that against you and tried his best to make sure you were safe and as happy as could be, but right now? What the hell happened?

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” He held you in his arms as you felt your tears never ending.

“I think father’s upset with me…” you couldn’t help inhale air with small hiccups and double takes, staining Yanqing’s shirt with your salty tears. You wanted to pry away and apologise but you felt too weak and mentally exhausted. You felt stupid and not worth it, not worth your father.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding, Y/N! He loves you, of course he does!” Yanqing offered, he help you tighter and you felt all your emotions explode again, crying harder than before.

“You should have seen the look on his face- he stared and stared with that cold look!” you wrapped your arms around Yanqing’s back and clung onto him hopelessly. 

“I- N/N…” he started, only for you to cut him off.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking about moving with mother…” you sniffled, having calmed down much more than before. You felt Yanqing freeze around you.

“W-what do you mean?” He uttered in disbelief.

You dropped your arms slowly and looked up at the young boy, wiping your tears and holding his hand in your own. 

“Let’s face it. Things haven’t been the same since the divorce. Father’s been avoiding me like the plague, sending everyone but him to come hang out with me. For Aeon’s sake, he didn’t even come to the park like we always used to on the First Full Moon of the month…” you whispered, emotion turning your voice hoarse and painful, as if thorns were tightening at your throat.

“But- but it could get better! I’m sure if I spoke to him, he’d understand!” Yanqing stared at you with determination in his eyes, his hope shining bright. 

“I don’t think it will. Not after today. I promise to come visit you, I swear it! I just- I don’t want to embarrass myself more in front of father than I already have. I don’t think he deserves that.” you state gently. 

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt excited. Not that hanging out with Yanqing and sending letters to your mother wasn’t fun, but you genuinely wanted some where new to explore, a different atmosphere away from the burden of trying to please a father who couldn’t even bother look you in the eyes. You needed a change of pace.

“I promise I’ll write you to everyday!” You beam at him. The boy looks at you with uncertainty in his gaze and sadness. After losing your mother, he didn’t want to lose you too. But he knew it would make you happier than ever. And plus, he loves reading your spelling mistakes. It’s a win-win in his book.

You had left nearly 3 months ago, keeping your promise and sending voice recordings to your brother and small videos here and there, as well as handwritten envelopes with flowers from the beautiful planet your mother came to. She had told you it’s history and how they had been rebuilding themselves as an Oasis in the making. Her mother, your grandmother came from this beautiful planet and you couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to the natives here. You felt at home, much more than you ever did on the Luofu.

You hadn’t told you father about your departure, having opted to pack you bags immediately and call your mother, asking for a quick and easy way to travel to her home world. She accepted immediately and welcomed you with open arms.

You eventually told her why you left and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “That man wouldn’t know discipline and responsibility if it hit him with the entire Luofu itself! How he’s made it all these years is beyond me. I’m sorry you experienced that my love. I’m glad you’re with me now.” She would scoff at your father’s actions and always pat your head, getting ready to go to work or take you out during her days off. She would also help you record videos for Yanqing and would mention how she missed her son dearly, always calling him hers and asking if he’s been eating well, showing in her own way she cares.

You didn’t want to know about your father and Yanqing never told you, waiting only to tell you when you asked. Which never came.

Eventually, you had made friends with the locals, learned your native tongue and made sure that everyone was happy, having been placed to understudy your mother and work alongside her in the Guild to provide for the elders of the City. You also volunteered to as many soup kitchens as possible and helped with poverty wherever you could. Your mothers home was beautiful but the economy was rather poor, leading to the fittest to provide for the elders and young children. 

You returned home one day after a successful evening at the kitchen only to have received three distress signals from Yanqing and one from your father. You felt sick to your stomach and as if you were about to faint. 

Quickly you opened your signals and heard voice messages come through.

“Y/N! Please! You need to come back to the Luofu right now! It’s Jing Yuan! He’s- he’s been in critical condition since this evening!” 

“Please! Fu Xuan is panicking and it’s throwing me off… I- I don’t know what to do! Please…”

“He’s finally okay! He’s in a stable condition… it’s been hours! Please tell me you’re okay, Y/N! He’s been asking for you… Please return to the Luofu…” 

You didn’t dare open your father’s one. It was staring at you as if cornering you . Ready to eat you alive. 

“Y/N. You should return.” Your mother said beside your doorframe. She had heard everything and wanted to make sure you were okay. 

“I- but…?” You started, only to be met with your mother’s questioning gaze. You knew you should go visit your brother and father, Yanqing was worried and your father could have died. You had to see him. 

“Okay…” you couldn’t help but worry.

The air was different on the Luofu than your mother’s planet. It was crisp, almost as if there was electricity in the air, waiting to strike at any moment. 

As you made your way down the streets to your home, you felt a familiar presence and turned around to see Yanqing running at you full speed, nearly knocking you down ass first onto the pavement. 

“Y/NNN!!!!!” He nearly sobbed. It was endearing and a little too tight of a hug, but you reciprocated.

“Hey there, Yanqing! I’ve missed you.” You felt your eyes tear up. You had truly missed your brother and wanted him to be safe.

“I’ve missed you too. I really hope you’re happy. But..! Please- Jing Yuan- he’s been so tired and I’ve never seen him this restless. You have to go see him.” The boy stopped hugging you to stare at you with complete sadness. 

You felt as if your body was in fight or flight, wanting to drop kick your brother and run for the hills of your mothers home planet. But that would be uncivilised and you’d feel bad later.

“Okay…” you agreed with apprehension.

You had entered your father’s house. Everything was the same way it was when you left. The same colours, same tapestries, even the same stupid old vase you hated and wanted to break on multiple occasions at the ugliness of it. You truly didn’t miss this place one bit but at the same time missed all the memories and the unfulfilled promises. 

As you walked the final step of stairs and walked to the end of the hall, you were met with the door of your father’s bedroom. He had shared it once with your mother and you nearly sobbed at the sight of it. Last time you had been in his room was when you had a nightmare and wanted your mother, having snuck into the bed to be with her. 

You quickly pulled off the bandaid. Knocking softly three times and rethinking doing it again having garnered no reply.

Just as you brought your hand up to knock again, a hoarse voice spoke out. “Come in.”

You felt your stomach do summersaults and wanted to evaporate into thin air. But you had to pull the bandaid off completely, no? 

You opened the door gently and closed it behind you, walking to your father’s bed and having made eye contact with him half way through your walk. His eyes were glassy and he was in his bed with bandages all over his chest, arms and even one on his neck. You nearly broke into tears.

“Y/N…” he uttered softly. His gaze piercing yet soft. He missed you dearly and wanted to reach out desperately to apologise for how he treated you. But you weren’t here to hear his excuses.

 “Father…” you couldn’t hold it back and the tears started flowing again. Jing Yuan slowly rose up and took your hand to his chest, pulling your entire body towards him and laying you on his bed, kissing your forehead and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and kept apologising, remembering how you had left without a word and wanting it all to have been a bad dream.

“You’re my child, Y/N. And I should have treated you better. I did not mean to chase you away or make you feel incompetent. I adore you and you are one of the only good things in my life. My life’s purpose.” He whispered into your hair.

“I- I should have been there when you were upset. I am sorry for neglecting you. I wish I had spoken to you more and kept the relationship.” He held you tighter, as if afraid you would disappear any minute.

“I’ve read your diary, Y/N.” You freeze. Oh shit. He started to pet your head and you feel tears blind your vision.

“Father- you weren’t..!” You can’t finish due to the hiccups taking over your body. He only pushes you away to look into your eyes carefully. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. You were never the reason me and your mother didn’t work out. You will forever be my top priority, and I am so sorry you felt otherwise. You are my child- my one true love. I will never stop fighting for you, nor your brother. Please, give me one last chance to prove to you my dear child.” His eyes were glassy and he had extreme eye bags, a curtesy of his non-existent sleep schedule. 

You didn’t know how to reply. Of course he still loved you, even after the lack of communication on his behalf and your insecurities leading up to the emotional turmoil in your relationship. 

“You’re my father. Of course I’ll always give you a second chance..” you whisper against him again.

You had a feeling that everything was going to be okay again.

[doumadono]

Hello. Your comforting stories have been incredibly helpful to me and they are so well-written. I'm wondering if it would be possible to request a piece (emergency request) that deals with anxiety and panic attacks. If this topic isn't suitable for you, please feel free to ignore this request. I'm looking for a scenario involving either Midoriya or Kirishima or Bakugou or Hawks providing support to their significant other during a panic attack caused by a triggering friend. Lately, there have been numerous triggers around me, especially from people I care about, which has led me to have anxious breakdowns. I'm really in need of some support. Could you write a piece that's heartwarmingly sweet and focuses on distracting the significant other from negative thoughts? Thank you in advance. You dedicate so much of your time to us readers, always displaying incredible kindness. I'd love to be your friend

A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you've been facing such challenging times lately. Dealing with triggers, especially from people you care about, can be incredibly tough and overwhelming. Remember that you're not alone in this. Be kind to yourself and take things one step at a time. You're resilient, and brighter days are ahead. Also, feel free to reach out to me - I'm so willing to make new friends!

MASTERLIST

Kirishima

You were having a panic attack triggered by an encounter with a friend who reminded you of a traumatic event. Amidst the turmoil of your panic attack, a strong yet gentle arm slipped around your shoulders. Kirishima's familiar presence was comforting, and his voice held a reassuring warmth. "Hey, you're not alone in this struggle. I've got your back, just like we've always had each other's. Don't pay too much attention to that encounter." His words carried a sense of camaraderie that only someone like Kirishima could provide.

"I-I can't do this, Eijiro…" You whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks.

As you clung to him, he squeezed your shoulder gently. "Remember that time we pushed through during training? We took on tough challenges, faced our fears, and came out even stronger. This is no different. We'll face it together." His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of determination and empathy shining within them. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts control you, let's focus on something positive. How about we plan our next fun outing? Maybe ice cream and a movie marathon?"

His suggestion was genuine, and you couldn't help but smile through the residual unease. His unwavering support was a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. With Kirishima by your side, you felt stronger, just like when you faced challenges together as friends and partners.

Bakugo

You experienced a panic attack due to a triggering encounter with an old friend who was very unkind to you, saying a lot of wry words. In the midst of your anxious breakdown, a fiery presence seemed to engulf you. Bakugo, surprisingly, knelt down in front of you. His usually intense gaze softened, revealing a concern you hadn't expected.

"I-I can't breathe, Katsuki…" You whined, choking on your own tears.

"Tch, don't let that damn idiot mess with your head. You're stronger than that crap." His hand cupped your cheek, his touch both unexpected and oddly comforting. "Think of a time when you kicked ass. Remind yourself who you are — someone who won't back down."

His voice, though still intense, held an unexpected gentleness. "I've seen you push through tough situations. You're resilient as hell." He leaned in slightly, his brows furrowed. "Now, let's do something to distract your mind. How about watching some sweet, stupid videos online? You like them. They won't be as spectacular as my explosions, obviously, but they might help get your mind off those thoughts for a while, nerd. Oh, and say just a word and I'll fucking blow them up. Understood?"

It wasn't the comfort you were used to, but it was genuine and uniquely Bakugo. He might not show it like others, but he cared. And in his own way, he was trying to help you weather this storm of anxiety.

Hawks

You were in the middle of a panic attack triggered by an unsettling conversation with an old friend of yours. As your panic attack gripped you, a calming presence settled beside you. Hawks knelt down, his wings spreading slightly as if to shield you from the outside world. His eyes held an empathetic understanding, a silent assurance that he was here for you.

"I can't think straight, Hawks…" You admitted.

"You know, you've got wings too," he said suddenly, his fingers brushing your hair back gently. "Not the literal ones, but the strength to rise above this situation."

His soothing voice carried a sense of calm, and his touch was comforting in its gentleness. "Let's focus on something else. Imagine we're soaring above the clouds, leaving those negative thoughts far behind." Hawks' wings unfurled gently, their red feathers cascading like a protective cocoon. With a tender and understanding expression, he moved closer, his wings slowly enveloping you in their warmth. The soft rustling of feathers created a soothing rhythm, and the delicate touch of his feathers against your skin brought a sense of comfort.

Amidst the chaos, he offered a moment of serenity, reminding you that you were not alone in this battle.

Midoriya

You were caught in a panic attack after a distressing interaction with a triggering friend that hurt you previously. While you were enveloped by your anxious breakdown, a gentle smile greeted you as Midoriya sat down in front of you. His kind eyes held an understanding that only someone who had battled their inner demons could offer.

"I-I feel so useless, Izuku," you whispered.

"I know how it feels to battle your own mind and unpleasant situations," he said softly, his voice holding the same compassion he showed during his hero acts. "But remember, you're not alone."

His hand found yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts consume you, let's reminisce about the times we've laughed till our sides hurt. Those are the moments worth fighting for, right?"

He wasn't just offering comfort; he was sharing a piece of his own resilience and reminding you that you possessed the strength to overcome these challenges.

[darcytaylor]

I recently found your blog after hearing you mentioned on a discord I joined. I’m very glad I have. I’ve got very caught up in speculating the ship and it’s become draining and, I realise, unhealthy. After reading back over last few weeks, I’ve enjoyed your observations and insights, I have come to the realisation that we really don’t know anything for sure, it’s all speculation. And, as a fandom, perhaps avoiding certain realities by changing narratives. As a result, the fandom has become so whipped into a frenzy. So, it’s been a refreshing wake up call reading your blog.

Regarding Nicola and Luke, I have some thoughts I’d like to share ( for no other reasons than it feels a safe space to share and perhaps for others to read and acknowledge they’re normal human beings like us) I actually really feel for Nicola at the moment. She’s at an important stage in her life. A point where you may be thinking about where to go next and what you want for your life in the future. She’s a very giving, nurturing person, we can see she cares and supports her friends. My hope is that she has strong support back as her life is changing. She’s certainly in the spotlight and I think she’s at risk of overdoing things and burning out as she finds her way up. She’s appeared overwhelmed at times recently. This is my intuition.

re Luke, I hope he’s doing well. I’m very fond of him. He’s been very quiet and has had a lot of negativity on him for his life choices . I do think he’s made some unwise choices. Which. I think may have been impacted by the pressures of being a lead, perhaps personal pressure to change his outward appearance, a long term relationship break up, and then all the promotions. As an introvert, I feel this may have overwhelmed him? I also wonder if he’s afraid to take the next step ( like Nicola has) as it may impact the dynamics of friendships/relationship in terms of his and their own status ? It can be very hard to navigate higher achievements if you’re moving forward more quickly than the people in your life. There are always feelings involved from each side, both good and bad. So maybe it’s easier to stay lower key. Who knows? But I do feel , again, just from my own intuition, that there’s a lack of confidence behind decisions made, which is sad to think.

Thank you for reading if you’ve got this far. It has been quite cathartic to write it down before I take a step back, and remain hopeful for them finding true happiness, however that looks.

Sorry for the late response to this ask! I’m really glad you found my blog and that it’s given you a bit of a wake-up call with all the speculation going around. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in fandom drama, especially when narratives keep shifting and people start projecting their own feelings onto public figures.

I appreciate your insights about Nicola and Luke - just from reading your ask, I can see you have some empathy! Nicola is at a pivotal point in her life, and having solid support as she navigates these changes is incredibly important. It’s tough that she doesn’t live close to her family, but I know she views her friends in London as family because of that (she said that in an interview once). The pressures of being in the spotlight must be overwhelming, so I totally understand why you’d feel concerned for her well-being.

As for Luke, the pressure of being a lead is a lot to handle, especially for an introvert. Your intuition about his lack of confidence is an interesting take that I haven’t really considered, but I have wondered if he’s trying to figure out what kind of actor and celebrity he wants to be.

It’s definitely good to take a step back and process everything going on. It’s completely valid to care about their happiness while recognizing how wild their situations are. Here’s hoping they both find what they’re looking for in life, however that looks!

[widowsistersandfriends]

Sisterly Love

Request: hi! could you do a fic with nat and yelena? i’ve been missing these sisters sooo much lately. maybe yelena is having a bad day so natasha gives her cheer up tickles (which yelena secretly loves) or something like that? with some gentle back tickles? if not, no worries! love your fics so much, you’re an amazingly talented writer!

Note: Thank you so much for the kind words and for this request! I appreciate you being patient with me getting this fic out. Nat and Yelena are so cute, and I love writing for their close sister bond. Enjoy!

Word Count: 857

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

Yelena was having a rough day. It seemed like luck wasn’t on her side at all. First, Fanny pooped inside the house this morning, then Yelena found a bug in her cereal, and then she had stubbed her toe while walking to dump out her bowl.

The blonde was now on the couch, pouting and not doing anything to avoid any more bad luck scenarios. However, Natasha had noticed and was concerned since her sister was usually goofy and planning mischievous pranks. 

“What’s wrong Yelena?” Natasha asked softly, taking a seat next to her.

“It’s nothing Natasha,” Yelena said flatly, as Natasha knew something was wrong since her sister usually referred to her as ‘Poser.’

“Yelena, I know you better than anyone and I know something is up. You can trust me with whatever it is,” Natasha said, softly placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

Yelena knew it was true, but the only thing holding her back was embarrassment. It seemed silly to dwell over the small things that had happened today. Most of them were inconveniences but not anything that had hurt her or others. 

Yelena just shook her head and scooted away from her sister, much to Natasha’s dismay. However, being the excellent spy she was, Natasha could feel and sense the mischief coming off of her sister. She wasn’t in her grumpy mood anymore. She was in her ‘tough act’ mood.

“Guess I have to cheer you up somehow right?” Natasha said, following her sister.

The slight hitch in breath from Yelena was all Natasha needed to know that her sister was trapped and knew she was in for some form of tickling. 

“Natasha don’t!” Yelena gasped, as Natasha poked her ribs.

“Oh so she speaks!” Natasha teased, gently spidering her fingers up and down her sister’s sides.

“Nahahahat stahahahap,” Yelena giggled, squirming on the couch, but not pushing her sister’s hands away.

“You like this don’t you?” Natasha asked, as Yelena struggled to hold in her giggles.

“I wanna hear that happy laughter from my baby sister again,” Natasha cooed, as she gently dug into Yelena’s ribs. Despite it being gentle tickling, this made Yelena belly laugh.

“AHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHATASHA PLEHEHEHEASE,” the blonde cried, half-heartedly swatting at Natasha’s hands.

“Please what?” Natasha asked.

Yelena continued laughing without saying anything, which Natasha knew that meant that her sister was enjoying this and didn’t want her to stop. She knew the minute she wanted her to stop she would be very adamant about it. 

“Are you all cheered up?” Natasha asked, skittering her nails over Yelena’s feet. 

“YEHEHES IHIHI AHAHAM,” Yelena cackled while trying to kick her sister.

After letting her sister recover, Natasha finally asked what was bothering Yelena.

“It’s dumb…I just had so many minor inconveniences that it put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day,” Yelena explained.

“Is that why you were moping on the couch?” Natasha asked.

“I wasn’t moping. I just didn’t want to have any more negative things happen to me today,” Yelena insisted.

“I understand why you felt that way, and I’m sorry all those things happened to you. But luckily those seem like isolated incidents, so they probably won’t happen too often,” Natasha reassured her.

“I guess so,” Yelena agreed.

“Come here and snuggle with me. It’ll make your day better,” Natasha said, patting a spot next to her. Yelena quickly crawled over and snuggled into her sister.

“You know what else was an isolated incident today?” Yelena asked after a bit. 

“What?”

“You being right,” Yelena said, as Natasha used one arm to trap Yelena and the other to scratch and tickle Yelena’s back.

“POHOHOSER NOHOHO,” Yelena squealed, jerking and squirming on the couch.

“What? I’m just giving you back scratches,” Natasha said innocently. Most people would see it as back scratches, but with Yelena, she was so ticklish that any trace or scratch would elicit giggles and laughter from her. 

“Don’t move,” Natasha teased, as she continued to scratch her nails up and down Yelena’s spine, causing the younger sister to shriek with laughter.

“Well you moved so I guess I have to punish you even more,” Natasha said, as she now focused on doing quick wiggles over the back of Yelena’s ribs. The blonde absolutely lost it, falling into hysterical laughter that could be heard from outside.

“Geez, your back is that bad?” Natasha asked teasingly, occasionally tickling her sides.

“Say I’m right all the time and it’ll be over,” Natasha stated, as she continued to drag her nails all around her back.

“FIHIHINE yohohou’re alwahahahays rihiHIHIGHT,” Yelena barely managed to squeal out.

“Now was that so hard?” The redhead asked, knowing that Yelena loved to say certain things just so she would get tickles.

Yelena pouted and returned to her position to cuddle Natasha.

“Feeling better?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Yelena said, stopping herself from calling her sister a poser for once.

The two sisters cuddled on the couch and napped. Eventually they were woken up by the sound of Yelena’s stomach growling, which they both knew what that meant. It was time for macaroni and cheese. With hot sauce.

[b1ngosstuff]

Hey! I saw that you recently opened your blog, do you mind if I ask you a fanfic with Baji, Draken, Kazutora and Mikey where the reader suffers a stroke from a overdose and like she needs to learn how to walk, talk and eat again and they’re like always for her?

Tysmm 💓

//Hello!! Thank you sm for requesting 😁!!! Sorry that I'm late on this. I didn't know if you wanted separate or together but i did separate i hope it's not a problem , did some research as well so i hope this is some what accurate 😊!! // i did headcannons cuz i was lazy to write a fanfic 😭😭//

Baji,Mikey,Draken and Kazutora supporting a reader recovering from an overdose.

//Trigger warnings: drug overdose , little bit of angst!!

Thats its really these guys are just sweet and try their best !!

---

Baji Keisuke

- Baji would be absolutely devastated when he learns about your stroke. He’s the type to blame himself, thinking he should have been there to prevent it. He hides his guilt behind a tough exterior, but his eyes show how worried he really is.

- Baji would spend every spare moment at your side, pushing aside everything else to help you through your recovery. He’s not great with words, but his actions speak volumes. Whether it’s holding your hand as you try to speak or helping you move during physical therapy, he’s always there.

-Baji would take it upon himself to learn about stroke recovery, reading books, and watching videos, so he knows how to best support you. He’ll even try to teach himself how to cook !! This man can't cook fr

- He’s incredibly patient with you, offering gentle encouragement whenever you get frustrated. He’s also the type to crack a joke at the perfect time, just to see you smile or lighten the mood during tough therapy sessions.

- Baji would be fiercely protective of you during this time, ensuring no one causes you stress or discomfort. He’s always ready to shield you from any negativity, be it from others or even your own frustrations.

---

Draken (Ken Ryuguji):

- Draken would take care of you without a second thought. He’s practical and organized, making sure you have everything you need for a smooth recovery. He’ll be the one coordinating with doctors, therapists, and even researching treatments.

- Draken’s strength and patience make him a great partner during your physical therapy sessions. He’d be there to help you with exercises, ensuring you don’t push too hard but also encouraging you to keep going.

-Draken knows this is a difficult time for you, so he makes sure to be your emotional anchor. Whenever you feel overwhelmed, he’s there to listen, holding you close and reassuring you that you’re strong enough to get through this.

- He would help establish a routine that balances your recovery . Whether it’s setting up a daily schedule for therapy or finding small activities you can still enjoy together, he makes sure your days are structured yet comforting.

- Draken is always there, often silently supporting you with his steady presence. His dedication never wavers, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you feel loved, safe, and supported.

---

Kazutora Hanemiya:

- Kazutora would struggle a lot emotionally after learning about your stroke, feeling a deep sense of fear and guilt. However, he’d channel those feelings into determination to help you recover, knowing he can’t let you down.

- Kazutora would be incredibly gentle with you, understanding how difficult and frustrating recovery can be. He’s always mindful of your emotional state, offering comfort and encouragement whenever you need it.

- He’d find creative ways to make your therapy more enjoyable. Whether it’s using music, drawing, or other arts as a part of your cognitive recovery, he’d incorporate things you love into your healing process.

- Kazutora would celebrate every small victory with you, whether it’s saying a word clearly or taking a few steps. He’s always ready with a bright smile and words of encouragement, making sure you know how proud he is of your progress.

- Through helping you, Kazutora would also find healing for himself. He learns to be strong for you and realizes that this journey, while challenging, is bringing out a better, more compassionate version of himself.

---

Mikey (Manjiro Sano):

- Mikey would initially be in shock, refusing to believe that something so devastating could happen to you. It would take time for him to fully process it, but once he does, he’s fully committed to being by your side.

- Mikey isn’t great with expressing his feelings verbally, but his actions show how much he cares. He’d spend hours sitting with you, holding your hand, and just being there, making sure you know you’re not alone.

- Mikey would push himself to stay strong, even when he’s scared or sad. He takes it upon himself to keep you motivated, using his own strength to inspire you to keep going, even on the hardest days.

- Sometimes, Mikey doesn’t need to say anything at all. His presence alone is comforting, and he has a way of making you feel safe just by being there. He’ll often bring you your favorite snacks or show you something that reminds you of better times.

- Mikey is relentless in his support. He’ll never give up on you, no matter how long the recovery takes. He’s patient, understanding, and always ready to remind you that you’re strong and that you’re going to make it through this together.

---

Each of them, in their own way, would be unwavering in their support, helping you rebuild your life with love, patience, and dedication.

//HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! I did my best to be accurate as possible and i think i did a good job!! Please give me more requests i loved writing them!!//

[manstrans]

Hey, I'm a big time fan of your blog and the circle of blogs similar to it. I love the pro-kink stuff, I love the support of transfun and the general concept that you can vibe with whatever gender and identity you want, I love the positivity, I love bringing attention to trans masc issues.

But I've been seeing some alarming dogwhistles lately. And I've been ignoring them because I really really want to just believe that they were unintentional. But with a recent post you reblogged, I have to ask you something - not out of discourse reasons or to paint you a specific way but because I want to decide what type of people I interact with on tumblr. If you decide to answer my question, please be incredibly clear. I'm not going to hide it behind vague terms like "certain kinks" or "problematic media", I am going to also be incredibly clear.

Do you genuinely believe that if we were in a society where fictional child porn and incest was the norm, that it would have no negative effects on our society as a whole? That media does not represent or change our cultural norms, that fiction can not be used as either propaganda nor as a way to help someone see things in a new light (for better or worse)?

Please be straightforward in your response. Even if it's just a yes or no.

that's a tough question. a quick but unnuanced answer is that I know the meanings behind these when I reblog them, and I do so because I agree with their general messages

the longer answer is... if these things were the norm then people would definitely be interacting with it differently than they do now I think. in some ways they already are somewhat normal, schoolgirl costumes and step-family roleplay come to mind.

ideally, in a world where these fantasies are completely normalized so is education on consent and safety. I don't think there's any real uncomplicated answer to it. but in the world we live in now, as long as things are labeled and not put into spaces where they're inappropriate, there's not really as much harm as some people just feeling uncomfortable

even if these things magically disappeared entirely (which they won't, and as someone with OCD I'd rather have them labeled than out in the wild), they still aren't the source of harm

I said it earlier, but I was groomed with the game tetris. under this framework of media causing harm, where do you go from there? it's a game about blocks, should we ban it and legos too for good measure?

sorry for talking so much when you wanted a short answer, but there's so much nuance here and I like explaining context instead of putting just a little bit of my thoughts out

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 7)

Noisecouple lovers rejoice.

This one took me a minute to get to.

Hazel had woken up before her alarm clock in the morning. She strutted over to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. She ran the water so hot that the mirror had steamed up. She went back into her room. She had a vanity dresser that she sat in front of. On it was all of her makeup, a curling iron, and a hair dryer. It was a bit of a mess. She toweled off her hair and turned the lights on the mirror on. She imagined herself as a movie star getting ready for the set. She imagined if that was how Theodore felt when he was getting ready for filming. She hummed a little tune as she blow dried her hair. She used the a round brush and a special addition to put a peppy upward curl at the end of her hair.

She approached the door of the cafe. The bell above the door rang as she walked in. That was the sound that started her day. The Vigilante came in shortly after she opened, as usual. "Hi, Vigi," she greeted him cheerfully. He tipped his hat at her, "Mornin'." She placed a mug and filled it up with fresh black coffee. He slithered up to the counter and climbed up to the stool. She added three sugar cubes to the coffee and slid the mug to him. He sighed and pulled out a newspaper.

"Quiet today, hm," she spoke.

"Yeah. It was bailing day for the hay field. Had to store it all afterwards before the rain came. Lots of heavy work."

"Sounds... not great."

"Eh, it's a living. I got some good helpers, though."

"Did Mort help?" She chuckled.

The Vigilante laughed. "Naw, never. He always makes it a bit worse. Always wants to be on my hat." He sipped his coffee. "You heard from The Noise, lately?"

"Yeah, actually. We've been talking on the phone a lot. I haven't seen him in a while, though."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she pouted. "He's been busy on set. They're making a new movie, something you might be interested in."

"Oh, yeah? You think so?"

"Yeah. It's a western, The Loud Sound."

The Vigilante looked disturbed. "The hell does he think he's doing makin' a western? He doesn't know a thing about bein' a cowboy!"

"I think he's playing a bounty hunter rather than a cowboy."

He slammed his hands on the counter, "WHAT?!"

"Whoa, whoa, relax. It's just a movie."

The Vigilante scoffs. "I bet it's gonna be terrible."

Hazel shrugs. "All I know is that he's been working a ton. A lot of overtime."

"You sure he's not avoiding you?"

Hazel face palms. "Why do you have to be so negative?"

"I'm just trying to-"

"I DON'T NEED YOU TO PROTECT ME!"

The Vigilante leaned back in shock with his hands up. It was unlike her to get angry like that. "Is... Is there something wrong?"

She sighed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just sick of you being so overprotective. It's not helpful. I don't want you putting words in my head that make me paranoid. I... I like him. I think I like like him."

The Vigilante let out a sarcastic laugh before he sipped his coffee. "Little too soon to say that."

She gave him a death stare. "Like you, you- No, Hazel. Be nice, Hazel. Don't say that. Be nice." She inhaled and gave him a wide-eyed stare. "Would you like me to top off your cup," she asked through gritted teeth.

He had a wide-eyed look of slight fear. "Uh... No, I... I think I'm gonna get going, actually."

"But you haven't even finished your coffee."

He laughed nervously. "Those cows ain't gonna feed themselves!" He took out cash and put it on the counter with a forced smile.

"But you feed the cows at dawn before you even come here."

He slithered backwards toward the door with his hands up by his head. "Then the chickens... Bye!" He dashed out of the door in a cartoonish manner. Hazel rolled her eyes and put her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the counter.

-

The rest of the day was boring for her. No one else came into the cafe. After The Vigilante turned her mood sour, she was having a tough time coping with the emptiness of the cafe. The Pig City police didn't even come in. She was feeling discouraged. She got home, and even her house seemed empty. She sat down on the couch and sighed. She checked the time; only 4 p.m. She wanted to call Theodore, but she figured he would still be working. She wasn't feeling like cooking, so she ordered takeout from one of the Chinese places in The Pig City. Orange chicken with white rice and a side of fried rice. She slowly ate it carefully. The food made her mood slightly better.

Time went by slowly. It finally reached 7 p.m. Hazel picked up the phone and dialed The Noise's number. He answered after a couple rings, "Hello?"

"Hey!"

"Oh, hey Hazel!"

"Were you sleeping again?"

He chuckled. "No. I figured you might call."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Lately, you've been calling at around 7."

"Oh... Sorry..."

"It's okay! It doesn't bother me. I uh... I like talking to you." He smiled as he twirled the phone wire around his finger.

She blushed. "I like talking to you, too. How was your day?"

"Ugh, it sucked!"

"What happened?"

"We're still working on that movie, The Loud Sound. It was going okay, but then we started to have issues with the microphones. The supporting role kept forgetting his fucking lines."

"I can't believe how long you've been working on that movie."

He groans. "Yep, going on three months, now. I swear, every time we get a good pace going, something goes wrong. I mean, yeah, movies take a while to film and edit, but this one is taking even longer."

"Aw, that sucks."

"It does. We've been working overtime a lot still. I'm so fucking tired."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah... How was your day?"

She frowned and sighed sadly, "Slow. The Vigilante came in as usual, but he was the only one who showed. The cafe has been so empty, lately. It makes me sad."

"That blows."

"Yeah... I don't know... Sometimes I wonder if opening the cafe was a mistake."

"Let me ask you this; does it make you happy?"

"Well, yeah, sometimes. I always wanted to start a business, but I think the tower wasn't the best place to do so."

"I think it's because not everybody knows about it. I've tried spreading the word."

"I know. A couple people have come in saying they heard about it through you."

"Your location also isn't the greatest, no offense."

"No, you're right! I've been thinking about asking Mr. Pizzaface for a different location, but I feel like it'll be useless."

"Yeah, he's sort of a stiff."

"I guess I'm just feeling a little discouraged..."

"I'm sorry, toots."

"..." She looked upset.

"Hey! I have an idea!"

"What?"

"What if, and hear me out, what if you catered to the studio a few times a week? It'll be a ton of orders plus good money."

"Huh... I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Awesome! Maybe that'll put everyone in better moods. You wanna try maybe doing it tomorrow? We're all gonna be there around 10 but filming starts at 1."

"That'll work! But how would we do it?"

"Hmm... I'll probably write down everyone's orders. I'll collect the money and give it to you. And I can help you out! We'll both bring the coffee to the building. If it's a lot, I can bring someone else with me, too."

"That sounds perfect!"

"All right!"

She chuckled. "So then I'll see you tomorrow. I should get going to sleep so I can get everything ready early."

"Oh... Yeah, okay! I'll, uh... I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, then. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight."

Theodore hung up the phone with a huge smile on his face. He was so excited that he got to see her again, but he was also nervous as he still got butterflies when he thought about her. He couldn't stop thinking about their date. He wanted to ask her on another one, but he didn't have the time lately. Having her cater the studio was his grand idea of getting to spend time with her while he was so busy.

-

Hazel woke up at the first beep of her alarm clock. She felt that it was a big day for her and her business. She got to cater NTV studios, she had to do her best. Better yet, she got to see The Noise again, so she had to look her best, too! She brushed her teeth extra well and swished mouthwash vigorously, then she washed her face and used just a touch more moisturizer than usual. She went to her vanity and added a small curl to the ends of her hair as always.

She opened up her cafe at the usual time, but she was busy preparing more pots of coffee than she regularly does. She was a tad bit anxious from the anticipation. She still had plenty of time, but there was only so much she could do to prepare. She didn't want to ground too much coffee too early so it didn't go stale. The bell rang as The Vigilante came in. "Hey, Vigi," she greeted him.

"Howdy," he responded.

She prepared his usual black coffee with three sugar cubes. She slid it to him on the counter and started getting out supplies to get ready for the big order. The Vigilante noticed her working frantically.

"You alright, Hazel?"

"What? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine! I'm just a bit anxious on account of the fact that I'm catering NTV studios today!"

"Really?" He smiles. "That sounds like a big order."

"Yeah. I forgot to ask Theodore what time he was coming."

"Theodore? Who is that?"

"The Noise."

"His name is Theodore?"

"Yep! THE-odore Noise! Get it?"

The Vigilante thought about it for a moment. "Oooh. Okay. I see it now."

"Anyways, he asked me last night if I'd be willing to cater the set today. I figured it'll be great for business. I mean, things have been awfully slow."

He shrugged. "Well, that's a good thing! I'm sure that'll bring in some good money for ya, too."

"Yep!"

-

Ten o'clock came quickly. Noise came through the door in a yellow hoodie and grey sweatpants. He had a long list of orders. "Okay," he sighed. "So, this might've been a bad idea."

"What happened?"

He handed the list to her with a worried but shocked expression.

"Oh... That's um... That's a lot..."

"Yeah... I didn't realize that literally everybody on set would order."

She smiled with determination and put her hands on her hips. "Well, it's too late, now. I've got this!" She immediately went to work, grinding fresh coffee, setting fresh brews, lining up cups, pressing espresso. The Noise watched her. He felt guilty as he watched her slave over the counter.

"Do you want me to help you," he asked.

She looked at him and shook her head. "Mm-mm, I can do this!"

"But I-"

"Shush! I'm trying to focus."

Incredibly, Theodore went quiet. He sat at the counter with his hands clasped. She checked the list every few seconds. It was like watching a factory line but with only one worker. He was amazed at how quickly she worked. She even wrote names on the cups to make it easier to hand them out.

"You wanna help me?"

"Mhm," he nodded.

"Here," he handed him a stack of cardboard drink carriers. "I'll hand you the drinks and you place them in these."

She placed drinks at the counter as he set them in the holders, but he could barely keep up with her. She was going so swiftly. Before they knew it, they had 10 carriers with 4 cups each filled up. She shook her hands as they finished up.

"Alright," she smiled, "all done! Um... Theodore, are you okay?"

Theo was short of breath. "I'm fine, I just uh... I feel like I just ran a marathon."

She chuckled. "Sorry, I can get a little intense sometimes."

"How," he huffed, "how are we going to get all of these to set?"

She put her fingers on her chin. "Hmm... Oh!" She snapped her fingers. She ran to the back and came out with a three tier cart. "We can use this! We'll have to stack them really carefully."

They placed the drinks carefully on the cart, stacking some on top of each other. As they got the last few carriers on, Hazel nodded at him and began to push. "Try to catch any that are going to fall, okay?"

"Okay," Theo responded.

-

After a good 20 minute walk, they finally arrived at the building with all the drinks in tact. Theodore beckoned her to follow him as he led her to the set. Several people cheered as they saw them coming in. They went over to the mostly empty concessions table and placed the coffees on it. They were immediately swarmed by people scrambling to find their coffees. Everyone was excited to have coffee that didn't taste like pizza. Hazel felt a tiny bit overwhelmed as she was surrounded by strangers, but just as fast as they came, they left, and the crowd cleared out. She took a deep breath, "Phew!" She looked at Theo, and they laughed together.

"That was a lot," he said.

"Yeah, but I think it was worth it." She smiled.

"So what do I owe ya?"

Hazel had a horrified expression on her face. "Oh, my gosh! I forgot to ring up the orders!"

Noise laughed. "Here, come with me." She followed him nervously as he led her to his dressing room. He took his wallet out of one of the drawers from the vanity and pulled out $400 cash.

She gasped. "No, no, I don't think it would've costed that much!"

"Well, this is with tip."

She froze for a minute before she pocketed the money and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you!" She squeezed the air out of him. She let go so he could take a breath.

"Yeah," he had a giant smile on his face. "No problem."

There was a knock at the door that made the two jump. "Mr. Noise," Mary, his makeup artist spoke. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, you're good!"

Mary walked in slowly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh, no no, I was just paying her for the coffees."

Mary smiled. "Well, they want you in costume for rehearsing." She had her makeup supplies with her. "So, if you don't mind..."

He clicked the vanity lights on and sat in the chair. Mary placed the makeup on the dresser. "Excuse me, love," she aired as she walked around Hazel.

"Oh, sorry," Hazel responded. "Well, uh, I should get going..." She started to walk toward the door.

"Wait," Theo blurted, "don't you want to stay?"

"I'd love to, but I have to get back to the cafe. I think I'm going to close it up early and get some rest."

"Alright, then, go get some rest. That order was huge. You remember your way out?"

"Um..."

"Here," he stood up, "I'll walk you out. I'll be back in a sec, Mary." Mary nodded at him with a smile.

He led her out side by side through a short corridor then through the set that was set up like a western saloon. She was amazed at the build of the set. Theo looked at her and grinned as she stared at the set in awe. People waved to her and thanked her as she walked through, and she waved back with a smile. They reached the door of the building and walked out together. Hazel turned around, still smiling. She held her arms up and out. "C'mere," she exclaimed. Theo leaned in and hugged her. She squeezed him and picked him up for a second. "Oooh, thank you so so so much!" She put him down, but before she pulled away, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He became wide-eyed and flustered. His face was almost pure red.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Uh, no problem."

She had her hands clasped together and had one foot on the toes as she twirled her ankle around. She was blushing lightly. She couldn't believe she just did that. "I'll call you," she spoke softly.

"Yeah. I'll answer." Noise laughed nervously.

Hazel gave him one more hug before she walked off. Theo was as stiff as a board. His legs felt like they could give out at any moment, and his heart was racing. He took a few deep breaths before he walked back in the building and straight to the dressing room where Mary was waiting for him. She had a huge smile on her face. Her eyes followed him as he walked to the chair and sat down.

"That was her, wasn't it," Mary asked.

He wouldn't make eye contact with her. He cleared his throat, "Yeah... How could you tell?"

"Well, for one, you asked her to stay. You never ask anyone to stay. Two, you took her straight to your dressing room. I thought I was going to walk into something I wasn't supposed to see." She chuckled as she saw Theodore get even more flustered.

"No, no, we weren't-"

"And three, you just came back from walking her out, and you are red as a strawberry!"

Noise hid his face in his hands as he brought his left leg up. He couldn't look at her.

"If you don't mind me asking," Mary continued as she organized her makeup set, "what happened out there?"

"Nothing much," he uncovered his face and put his leg down. "She hugged me tightly and thanked me."

Mary raised her brow with a smile. "And that's it? That's what has you beet red?"

He clenched his fists and slid down in his chair. "She... kissed me on the cheek."

"Oooo," she teased.

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay," Mary laughed. "I'll stop messing with you. Now sit up and close your eyes. I have to make it look like you actually slept last night."

[asvospace]

୨୧┇Monday Journal Prompts! ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀ‧₊˚ ⋅ 🎀

welcome to the start of another week, cutie! here, you can find questions/prompts to help you start your monday and overall week! So without further ado, let's set some goals and make the most of this monday (and this week)! 🫶🏼 ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- (I'm a bit late to this post as i've been busy out and about lately, sorry lovelies!)

Mondays can often be especially unnerving or daunting at times, this is because these particular days act as an 'abrupt transition' from relaxation to responsibility...this reason coupled with long to-do lists and the demands of our school or work can increase these negative feelings. Now, I'm not gonna tell you to 'toughen up' or anything like that, because in reality, mondays are tough!..but SO ARE YOU!! Your feelings are valid, so please don't feel bad or doubt yourself for feeling them.

↪︎ monday journal prompts ;

✎ magnetic monday:

What is my intention for today? (goals, to-do's, how do i want to feel at the end of today?..)

What is worrying me today or regarding this week? (tight deadlines, workload, certain people etc.)

How can I effectively address and get through this? (break down the issue, focus on what you can control, reach out to others for support)

What is something i can look forward to? (self-care & me-time, a delicious meal, a phonecall with family/friends, a hobby, a movie, achieving a goal, ticking off your to-do list..)

What 3 things/people/experiences am I grateful for? (refocus on what you have, rather than fixating on what you may lack!)

How can I support myself through this week? (recognising negative thought pattterns and re-wording them!, eating healthy, prioritising self-care & me-time, meditation etc.)

Affirmations! (e.g: I am deserving of all things good, I am strong and I will achieve my goals.)

note: feel free to add your own prompts or change it up a bit! :)

"You have what it takes. Stand in that, Believe in that, Own that, Trust that. Lean into that!" ༉‧₊˚. 🎀 🧘🏻‍♀️

xoxo,

⌗ 𐑺・raine 𓂃꒰🧸꒱ / @asvospace

[multiplicity-positivity]

im really depressed and its affecting other headmates. i dont know what to do because our only caretaker went dormant

Oh no, we’re sorry to hear that you’ve been really depressed lately! >_< It must be really painful not having your caretaker around to help you when you’re feeling down like this!

We know it can be super tough, but maybe something you can do is try to take care of your mind and body to the best of your ability right now? When our parts are feeling depressed, things like eating some food, taking a shower, tidying up our living space, and staying hydrated really can make a big difference! And they get the added benefit of feeling like they accomplished something in addition to being in a healthier space :3

Please check out our list of self care questions and see if there’s anything you feel like you could accomplish for yourself! Remember that even the teeniest, tiniest thing you do to take care of yourself is a huge accomplishment!!

It can be super tough being your own caretaker when you’re used to having a headmate who takes care of you >_<” But! Please remember! There are no wrong feelings and yeah, that even includes bad or negative ones! You can’t help it that you’re feeling depressed or that it’s affecting the other members of your system. It’s not your fault for feeling this way!

We hope that you can start feeling better soon! And it’s totally okay for change to take time. While you’re waiting for things to get better, we hope that you can do your best to take care of yourself! And maybe show yourself a little gentleness and kindness! We’re rooting for you, anon! :33

[3416]

I really love equally 16-34-88.

It’s interesting the interchanging of the attitude of the fans and media towards William and Mitch.

For years, William was criticized over and over again. His relaxed and laid back attitude. His game. And his contract year back in 2018, he was in those trenches. And anyone who said anything positive about him was called crazy. And also, Don Cherry and his low key like discriminatory remarks due to the fact that he was Swedish and not the tough goon kind of playing style. He was also kind of the « guinea pig » (always changing line mates, and lines—and last year we saw that too, he’s always moving and they always throw new stuff) and he was , out of the core, the punching bag.

Now, Mitchy has always been criticized because of the toxic hyper masculine mindset of many hockey fans: he’s boyish and not buff and tough and all that jazz. But, he never got the hate and disrespect that he is getting at the end of last season and right now. He was however still well liked and respected and was often associated to Auston and scene in a more favorable light. He was second to Auston in the « it » boy factor. If this NHL documentary was made 2-3 years ago, Mitch would have been considered.

If you would have told that the Toronto fans and media would be all over William two seasons ago, I would have laughed. Like never would I have thought that I would see the day where people would actually give him credit and actually respect him and see the great things he adds. I love seeing that , but at what cost? For Mitch to become the punching bag of the team?

Fans are now saying how amazing Willy is and now figuring out that he is a good player and cool. But those same fans, a couple years ago were dragging him through the mud saying how useless he was and how he needed to get traded. And they liked Mitch. And they respected him. But now, you’ve « always hated Mitch Marner », « He should be traded ».

And I fear that it will always be this: once Mitch will be in the public’s good graces, something with William will happen and back to Mitch. It’s always been like this and will always stay this way. I don’t know why, I guess that’s the dynamic the city chose.

Even when it came to the core’s contracts: Willy and Mitchy always get this EXTRA je ne sais quoi. Like this extra negative energy and they can never satisfy anyone. They are greedy weaklings or whatever.

Also, I was thinking about Auston captaincy and it reminded me about how he was heavily considered in 2019 but the whole allegations and the story about him harassing this woman when he was drunk ruined that chance. And, people did criticize him and he got scrutinized. But, it kind of, I think, it fizzled away pretty quickly within the Toronto scene considering how heavy that story was. It doesn’t haunt him.

Now, if it was Mitch or William, people would bring it up and it would tarnish them way more. They could not escape it.

Sorry for the long ass rant, it’s just so funny and frustrating: if one gains recognition, the other one has to go down.

gonna start out by saying i don't think mitch/auston/other ppl weren't asked about the doc. i think they're way more private esp in a time that was gearing up for the playoffs, lol. and i think anyone with a brain right now knows mitch is still the second best player on the leafs. everyone just gets high off point totals alone from the prior seasons.. like i seriously saw ppl claiming matthew tkachuk would be drafted higher than auston after the 22-23 season, lolll.

i agree there's a divide about them in the coverage and i have a lot of thoughts of my own about this too. i'm not a longterm leafs fan beyond the past couple of years so i can't speak to how willy or mitch were treated before 2022 beyond old headlines/stuff i've seen but not lived through, but i've definitely been here for the shift about mitch lately and well...

i think some of it is by virtue of them playing the same position. everyone 'has an issue' with the core 4 (ive never understood who the fuck the core 4 even refers to.. sometimes its about the forwards, sometimes its about the leadership group flkdjsklf... whatever fits the current narrative ig) being all forwards and taking up the cap bc that's not 'proven', but it's such a bullshit excuse. i think if you look at their contract situations of the past, willy did a lot of things mitch is getting shit for now, lol. he did hold out into the season for money while mitch gets lambasted for using that as a negotiation tactic (which again.. i wasnt around for those negotiations and i get it was ugly to ... leak or use public perception or whatever but) on those first contracts. willy's father was also involved in his holding out in the most recent negotiations but that's not smth i see thrown around at him despite every comment under every post about mitch including paul's name without him so much as uttering the word contract, lol. it's frustrating to me to see the double standards at this point. i understand longtime fans have lived through shit about willy, but i have a hard time imagining the vitriol levels of right now being topped. it's just every single day about every single thing compounded by the fact that leafs fans have even less hope than they used to bc of how many years in a row they've lost.

i admittedly don't love them equally at all, and if anything, the fanfare about willy the past year has made me like him less. it's not really his fault but i do think he's slightly overpaid now (and watching ppl now claim mitch has to take willys deal or less is hilarious) and overhyped for what he actually brings. his playoff stats are being overrated too. since it all comes at a cost to mitch in the media, it's been way worse to watch for me and unavoidable that i come away feeling negative about him, lol.

i'd be interested to see if the tides ever do turn back toward willy now that he's bulked up, grown facial hair, proven he can score with an up-to-this-point useless clutchness. i doubt they will, but i have a hard time envisioning what's gonna happen after mitch signs an extension and who will become the scapegoat w players locked up for more years. the constant hate has to get exhausting at some point, right? like jflkjdsklf... but not with leaf fans so who knows what will happen. i can't really say what would have happened if mitch or willy were ever involved in scandal like that, but i think if it happened right now, ppl would be ready to forgive willy for anything and sentence mitch to death over nothing so. some people were blaming him for his own carjacking when it happened like.. lol. i can't see into the future but all i know is i'm VERY fed up with the way coverage and reaction is right now. and i don't even think the media is an accurate depiction of how a lot of fans feel about any of it, but if it's hammered home enough... idk.

[gingerjunhan]

Hii, can I request a Junhan x Reader Fluff story? Let’s say maybe where he is very insecure and is always scared that his lover would leave him because he’s too quiet or doesn’t show much intimacy (but he tries his best). Explain how his previous relationship didn’t last because of his quiet personality? (Flashback scene would be great showing their breakup) Reader listens and comforts him at the end 🥹

Sorry if this is too confusing!! Don’t be scared to adjust the plot if you want! <3

You’re stories are great and looking forward to more of your writings!

☆彡 hi anon!! tysm for the request and the love!! I hope you enjoy! :)

word count: 918 | pronouns used: they/them | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: insecurities, lmk if I missed something :)

flashback → present day

“Hyeongjun, I really don’t think this is going to work out between us anymore.”

Hyeongjun felt his heart break at the sound of those words. He searched the face of his now ex-lover, looking for any implication that they were joking, or this might be a dream. “Wh-What?” He asked simply. “Why?”

“You’re always so distant. You never show affection unless I ask for it, and on the off chance that you do it’s just a little bit… awkward.” Their words were harsh, and Hyeongjun couldn’t believe their level of honesty. He struggled to find the right words to say, so he stuck with the only thing he could think of.

“I’m sorry…” he apologized, his voice small. Something inside of him screamed at him to try and comfort them, but he knew that now wasn’t the time. Even if he could comfort them, he knew deep down that he wouldn’t know how.

☆

“Hyeongjunnie!” You launched yourself at him on his mattress, landing next to him and wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” he shrugged, wrapping one arm loosely around you while the other stayed folded beneath his head on his pillow, propping him up slightly to help him see the show he was watching. “How was your day?”

“It was so long!” You groaned. “I couldn’t have gotten out of work fast enough today. I swear my boss had it out for me today. Plus, my coworker didn’t show up to work again!”

“Really?”

“Really,” you huffed. “I don’t see how they can no-show twice a week and not get fired, but I show up five minutes late one time due to traffic and I get scolded.”

“It's tough being you,” Hyeongjun joked.

“It really is,” you chuckled back. A comfortable silence fell over the room as the conversation dipped, the sounds of the show Hyeongjun was watching filling the space instead. You pulled yourself in closer to him now, laying your head on his chest. “Are you comfortable with this?” You asked, voice soft.

Hyeongjun looked down at you with a bit of confusion. “Yeah, I’m comfortable. Why would I not be?”

“Well, you aren’t always the most touchy, so I just wanted to make sure.” Your voice was caring, and you clearly meant this as a way of getting his okay to lay with him like this. You smiled up at him before turning your attention back to the screen. Hyeongjun heard your words bounce around in his mind, and he couldn’t help but overthink them. Did it bother you that he wasn’t the most affectionate? Was that your subtle way of telling him to try harder? Did you take his lack of affection as a lack of like for you? What if you thought your relationship was one-sided? His mind raced, and he suddenly became aware of the arm he had wrapped around you. Was that not enough? Should he be trying harder? “Hyeongjun,” you called out to him, breaking his flow of negativity.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I can hear your heart beating at a mile a minute,” you explained as your head stayed on his chest. “Plus, you’re stiff as a board all of a sudden. Do you want me to move?” You were worried you had made him uncomfortable, but then Hyeongjun looked at you with sad eyes, you knew something else was the matter.

“Does it bother you that I’m not affectionate?” He asked, a hint of pain in his voice.

“Woah,” you looked up at him, “where is this coming from?”

“Does it bother you?” He asked again.

“No,” you answered him truthfully.

“Please don’t lie.” His voice was nothing but a whisper now, and you could see that this was eating away at him. You sat up on the bed, looking down at him.

“It doesn’t bother me at all, Jun.”

Your nickname for him helped calm him slightly. “I just… don’t want you to doubt how I feel about you.”

“I’ve never doubted for a second how you feel about me,” you answered instantly, absentmindedly taking one of his hands. “Just because you aren’t as physically affectionate as I am doesn’t mean that you don’t care for me in the same way I care for you. You just show it differently, that’s all.” A small smile graced his lips as you spoke.

“You mean it?” He asked.

“Of course!” You beamed. “So what you aren’t very physically affectionate? You’re a great listener, and you show that you care through your actions or moments like this. Being willing to have a conversation like this must mean something, right?” Hyeongjun nodded in agreement. You both knew that this could be quite a sensitive subject for him, seeing that his reserved personality has gotten him into some tight spots with past relationships before. His willingness to open up about the topic has only come around a handful of times, but you knew it was something he wanted to work on. “I’ve never doubted our relationship for a second,” you reiterated to him. “Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He chuckled at your joke, causing you to laugh a bit as well. You opened your arms to offer a hug to him, and he happily accepted your invitation. “Thank you for understanding,” he mumbled into your shirt before quickly pulling away.

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at him. “I’d never leave you over something like that.”

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[redd956]

Writing Characters with Varying Empathy, Sympathy, & Compassion

Prt.1 Empathy

First of all, let’s put down the elephant in the room. Lately online there has been a lot of misinformation over the factors of empathy, sympathy, and compassion. So first we need to define how these things differ from each other, and what exactly they are.

The Difference

There is a big difference between these three, made significant by how groups of people tend to overreact and get these terms mixed up, causing unnecessary drama. So...

Empathy

The ability to feel, share and/or understand someone else’s pain/emotions from their standpoint.

Sympathy

The ability to acknowledge and feel pity for someone else’s pain/emotions.

Compassion

Action in good faith deriving from thoughts and feelings from empathy and/or sympathy, to relieve someone else of a negative emotion/pain.

Examples

Character A is sad, because a family member of theirs passed away

Character B cries seeing Character A cry, thinking of their own family member, and imagining how tough it also must be for Character A. They go through the motions together that night, finding comfort in each other. -Usage of empathy

Character B frowns at the sight of Character A crying, knowing what had happened. They waltz into the room, readying a comforting pat. “I’m so sorry, Character A.”, They whisper, leaning up against them, and clasping their shaking hand. -Usage of sympathy

Character B sits beside Character A, a large bowl of their favorite ice cream in hand. “Hey Character A, I heard what happened and I just couldn’t stop thinking about how bad that must be. I brought you some ice cream, it could help with the sore throat from all this crying.” - Usage of Compassion

The Variation Aspect

It is important to note that having empathy doesn’t inherently make someone a better or good person, same goes to lacking empathy making people villainous. There are natural variations of empathy among people, and these do not dictate whether or not someone is more likely to follow what societal alignment or another.

People with high empathy can still be awful, just as those with low empathy can still be kind souls. Empathy levels are detached from morals and ideologies, which is an important notion to make when creating characters.

Average Empathy

Average empathy is being able to feel and express empathy of course at an average level. They have an easy time sharing their emotions, and feeling when someone is going through a particular emotion. They simply experiencing empathy as expected an as most due, and don’t share the same realities as those with heightened empathy, and lower empathy.

Heightened Empathy

Empaths or those with Hyper Empathy are people who have heightened empathy. Some people can be this way naturally, but more commonly hyper empathy can be a side effect to having mental illness, such as PTSD, BPD, or ADHD.

(BPD and ADHD can also have lack of empathy as a side effect)

Obviously, empaths feel more empathy than the average person, this leads to both pros and cons, one more than the other depending on which angle you look at it. Empaths share others’ emotions at a noticeable intensity compared the average. They can more easily spot emotional differences, unearth other people’s masks, and are sensitive to tiny changes in mood. They take the other person’s pain as their own very seriously, as others

Because of this crowds of people can be incredibly overwhelming. Human interaction is more emotionally draining, and they can get socially burnt out far quicker than the average person. Empaths have a difficult time setting boundaries with others. They are often labeled over emotional, and sensitive. With empathy having such positive connotations, many assume that empaths have it easier and live a whimsical life.

Lower Empathy

Those with empathy lower than the average don’t have it easy either, as just like empaths, it drastically affects life, especially socially. Different neurotypes, those with mental illnesses, head trauma, psychological trauma, and more can lead to lacking empathy in one way or another. More well known those with cluster B disorders infamously get their bad reputation due to low empathy.

Those with lower empathy have a difficult time taking on and sharing other people’s emotions. Because of this they can struggle to understand and relate to other’s experiences. They have harder time coping with emotional situations, and can easily misinterpret the emotions/emotional responses of others. Their emotions themselves can seem callus, and inappropriate to situations.

All of this leads to difficulty in decision making related to others, social struggles, and trouble fitting in with societal standards. Lack of empathy itself can range drastically. For many it makes them more susceptible to negative and potential dangerous behaviors, as well as a lack of healthy self-esteem. This has lead to people with low empathy being vilified, especially in media.

OH YEAH IM A WRITING BLOG-

When writing a character with varying empathy there’s definitely a lot to consider. Especially since their levels of compassion or sympathy can vary themselves, separate from empathy. 

You want to avoid

Using empathy related terms incorrectly, but especially disorder/medical terms related to these things incorrectly

Making a character evil solely because their empathy is low

Making a character a pure hero solely because their empathy is high

Things to consider about a character’s empathy

How a character reacts to situations based on a mixture of their empathy, compassion, and sympathy

If you’re character is lacking empathy, how are they handling sympathy

Are their reactions realistic

How a character’s morals and ideals differ from their empathy

Character dynamics formed by a difference or similarity in empathy

Characters in a group reacting differently based on their empathy, sympathy, and compassion

One character displaying empathy more, while another displays sympathy more

How the character feels about their own level of empathy

How their empathy affects them in their worldbuilding

Do proper research if you’ve decided you want a character with a level of empathy

To be continued, Hopefully here -> [ ] [ ]

Maybe, HeavenlySoup this is a sign of me trying to come up with writing refs for heroic and empathetic characters for those with low empathy to understand, maybe you my dear love, are my guinea pig?