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#like the reason i love life so much rn and why i'm so much better at managing my depression is bc i've gazed into the maw of the beast
la0hu · 1 year
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i'm realizing more and more how bad my depression was, bc at the time i was "functional" and no one ever actually approached me to ask me if i was okay so i kept being on the fence with myself on whether i was actually depressed or if i was just Bad at Living and everyone just had more energy and enthusiasm and passion and care than i did. even when i recognized i was legitimately depressed, that i "deserved" the label or whatever, i was like "but i'm not Severely depressed, like i get out of bed and do my work and everything." okay but i also never responded to emails and i skipped so many classes and didn't wash up or change my clothes for days sometimes and i avoided everyone except only five friends and i would constantly hate myself bc i thought there was something wrong w me because i wasn't a Better, more capable person like everyone else seemed to be, and about once a week i would have the intense panicked urge to kill myself and freak out alone in the animation studio at 2am or in the bathroom silently while my roommates waited in the common room to make a crack about how long it takes for me to shower. and it got marginally better when i started weightlifting but that was so fucking insane that i didn't think i deserved to be taken seriously. like sometimes i reread my journal entries from that time and i feel so sorry for my past self because it was fucking brutal back then
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rskbunny · 7 months
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kinda depressin I'm actually yearnin to do school work again just to have some meanin to my day... I get an entire week off to do whatever I want but I'm so lost with myself that I just looked to what past me procrastinated for years to finish.... but they were all pretty small tasks.... it should feel good to not have all those back ups, but I just feel empty... maybe I wouldn't feel empty if school didn't drain me into a school drillin machine......
#text#mine#might delete later#it feels futile to try to start smth up rn when I know I'm not gonna have time for it again....#all my hobbies drain out into nothin when I have school. don't do much besides just rest in between work#I'm also just thinkin abt why do I feel like such shit all the time complainin abt how awful everything is and feelin like it's gettin worse#when I know objectively my life has been better than it ever has. and how hard I fought to get here. and how much it's changed#I have so much. I have an amount of fun money to spend on whatever I want. I'm at a place where I'm not pressured to do anythin#I have my cat indoors. I have my hubby who I was dyin to find for years.... even if it's not physically together atm...#I have a wardrobe filled with clothes I love. I have various technology and games#I think it's me that wrong with it all. I want and I want and I want and I want and it's never enough#or it's only enough temporarily. the goal post is always movin.#I guess I want to do schoolwork bc it feels like I'm actually movin forward. for whatever reason I'm not happy with my life#so I have to keep movin forward to get there.... which is not a bad thing I suppose#just wish I wasnt miserable all the time. I need to get a grip....#you know I say all the time but I'm so overdramatic with no emotional permanency#I know damn well there have been moments where I'm on top of the world. I am a borderline bitch what do u want from me#I think I'm just goin insane re: extrovert vent post#also need to get checked out for bipolar lmaoooo#I just cannot be assed to track my emotions that's soooo much work. I've tried so many times and I'm just not abt it
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starsainzjr · 4 months
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Award Season
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x hair stylist!reader Faceclaim: Jaylen Barron
✷✷✷✷✷
yourusername Salon de Platine, Monte-Carlo
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Liked by kristin_ess, dakotafanning, charles_leclerc and 31,027 others
yourusername Last minute award season prep!
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kristin_ess So you're setting up your station next to mine right?
yourusername You realize the amount of chaos this would cause, right? dakotafanning Yeah but fun chaos
amandlastenberg When I tell you I screamed
yourusername When I tell you I can't wait
charles_leclerc Do I get a spot in the chair?
yourusername Of course you do, mon trésor charles_leclerc 🥰
yn.wag16 Patiently waiting for mother to give us Charles red carpet content
bananas_for_leclerc Pls give us the red carpet content 🙏
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Rest and recharge before the crazy
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pierregasly YOU LEFT WITHOUT ME THIS MORNING TÊTE DE BITE
charles_leclerc You were late, I have a beautiful girlfriend, what else was I supposed to do? yourusername Mon trésor, you make me blush ☺️
yourusername Calm before the storm. No one I would rather whether it with
charles_leclerc I love you so much, mon cœur
yn.wag16 We are going to get FED this winter
lechairs_love What I wouldn't do to be on a yacht with Charles yn.wag16 We can only wish to be Yn
bananas_for_leclerc I'm on the floor, no one talk to me
yourusername Los Angeles
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yourusername Award season's here! Next stop: Oscars
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dakotafanning I owe you my LIFE
yourusername Girl, I have never seen that many broken bobby pins
kristin_ess Coffee. Immediately. Now.
yourusername AMEN charles_leclerc I'll buy, come on ladies bananas_for_leclerc Charles is fr the only thing keeping this group going rn
amandlastenberg I'm taking you with me to every single set from here out you are a GODDESS
yourusername As long as you keep supplying me with cookies
yn.wag16 MOTHER
yn.wag16 Oscars Charles content incoming
bananas_for_leclerc The way that I will simply pass away
dakotafanning The Oscars
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Liked by yourusername, amandlastenberg, charles_leclerc and 809,347 others
dakotafanning 5 minutes ago @/yourusername was redoing @/charles_leclerc's hair for the ninth time and now look at her
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yourusername And he's still not ready 🫠
charles_leclerc I am to! yourusername Then why are we all waiting by the elevator on you? landonorris She got you on that one bananas_for_leclerc He better look amazing with how long he's getting ready for
amandlastenberg We look GOOD tonight
kristin_ess Yes babes!
yn.wag16 Literally about to vibrate out of my chair with excitement for tonight oh my GOD
dakotasfan The fact that they're all posting each other tonight instead of themselves I'm going to sob
bananas_for_leclerc GRASPING for any Charles red carpet content I can get my hands on PLEASE I am no longer asking
yourusername The Oscars
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yourusername Not him being the reason we were the last ones on the carpet
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charles_leclerc I was not, you speak lies
yourusername No I don't amandlastenberg No she doesn't dakotafanning No she doesn't kristin_ess No she doesn't charles_leclerc ...damn
pierregasly So he can clean up
charles_leclerc I will hit you in the ass with the ball so hard next time we play padel you won't be able to sit down for a week yourusername ...damn
yn.wag16 IT'S HERE
yn.wag16 CHARLES RED CARPET CONTENT IS HERE
lechairs_love I can't.... I'm done... he looks like he's about to cause so much chaos in the first one
bananas_for_leclerc I can't breathe
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Afterparties after afterparties yet she still manages to look gorgeous
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yourusername Only because I have the world's best eye candy
charles_leclerc No I do dakotafanning y'all are making me feel incredibly alone
amandlastenberg It is four in the morning and we're just getting back to the hotel now
yourusername Signs of a good party charles_leclerc Party? Singular?
pierregasly I'm coming along next year, no arguments
charles_leclerc Invitation is only plus one 🤷 Be better
bananas_for_leclerc I need to get myself a Charles...
yn.wag16 GOD I'm so feral over them
lechairs_love If you'll excuse me I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight
yourusername Monaco
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Liked by charles_leclerc, amandlastenberg, dakotafanning and 43,488 others
yourusername Back home and ready to relax
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charles_leclerc My favorite audience
yourusername Play for me again, Charlie charles_leclerc Anything for you, mon cœur
amandlastenberg Bye you're adorable
yourusername ☺️
yn.wag16 GOD
yn.wag16 I can't do this anymore
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xanasaurusrex · 4 months
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Hii, I've read your Percy Jackson cabins headcanons and I loved them! They're are soo good! Could you please write for the Aphrodite cabin?
⇢ ˗ˏˋ aphrodite cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ
a/n: so it's been a while since i've posted some cabin headcanons, and i LOVE aphrodite kids, and i've gotten a bunch of requests for aphrodite cabin hcs 😭 i'm sorry it took this long, i'm getting back into the cabin hcs but i'm focusing on fics rn, but yeah! i hope you all enjoy this, and thank you to everyone who requested aphrodite cabin! taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi @ravisinghs-wife
so aphrodite kids are generally pretty cool
they're naturally very outgoing and caring people, who love big and hard and are wonderful people to have in your life
but they can also be a bit of a handful
they tend to have very big and dramatic emotions, and they cry at a lot of things
every aphrodite kid had the experience of being labeled a crybaby when they were younger
they come by their emotional-ness naturally
aphrodite kids are naturally very flirty as well
like they're the kind of people that flirt with their friends no matter what
which you would think would make it difficult to tell when they actually have a crush on somebody, but it doesn't for some reason, you can just kinda tell
aphrodite kids are not shy when they like someone
aphrodite kids are the type of people who as soon as they come to the conclusion that they have a crush on someone they just flat out tell them
obviously this doesn't happen every time because there are some aphrodite kids that are more shy, but for the most part, that's just the type of person they are
so not every aphrodite kid has the ability to charmspeak, but they all have a better skill at convincing people to do things for them
like it’s not charmspeak but they are naturally more charming/convincing
obviously kids who get the charmspeak gene are much more convincing than other aphrodite kids but you know what i mean
weird little quirk about aphrodite kids, they love sugar cookies
they could not tell you why, they just really love them for like, no reason
aphrodite kids are also huge matchmakers
like HUUUUGE
do not tell an aphrodite kid who you have a crush on if you don't want them to start trying to set you up with that person
although, if they do it's a good sign, because aphrodite kids really try not to matchmake a person with someone they don't like, because they think that's really mean on both parts
aphrodite kids were the kids that were dating in elementary and middle school
and saying "i love you" two days in, let's be totally honest
they also were totally wearing makeup at like 10
not that that's necessarily a bad thing, other demigods probably wore makeup at 10, aphrodite kids are just so much more likely
although it's a common misconception that aphrodite kids always wake up at 5 in the morning to put on an elaborate glam makeup look for everyday wear
that is not true
well, in some cases it is, but it's much more common for aphrodite kids to just wear casual, feature-enhancing makeup for everyday
don't get me wrong, when there's an occasion, they JUMP at the opportunity to go full glam
aphrodite kids also do other demigods' makeup when they need it
also, if you ever need a personal stylist, go to the aphrodite cabin beacuse they LOVE it when people need fashion advice
they often give it anyway, so it's extra nice when people don't yell at them for telling them how to style their orange camp t-shirts
yes, the camp half-blood orange shirts are iconic, but there are definitely aphrodite kids that have wanted to change the color to something a bit less... harsh, as it's hard to style something so bright
aphrodite kids LOVE making friendship bracelets
you know, the ones with embroidery floss that you tie knots to make, and you like tape it/tie it to your water bottle
aphrodite kids make those all day every day
they have a little plastic drawer thing that has just SO MUCH embroidery floss in it, all the colors you can imagine, complete with a few printed out templates that they sometimes use to make some fun ones
they give these out to literally everyone
they make sure that everyone in camp has at least one friendship bracelet made by them
they also like to teach kids from other cabins how to make them, and whenever an aphrodite kid gets a bracelet made by someone other than an aphrodite kid, they get so happy
their hearts just warm so quickly
it's adorable to see because their whole face lights up, and then they hug you, and it's so cute
they've even given a couple to chiron and mr. d, and they actually wear them
chiron doesn't wear them as often, because he likes looking formal sometimes
but mr. d wears them all the times
it's so funny, because mr. d claims that the campers are the bane of his existence, they're so annoying, but if an aphrodite kid hands him a friendship bracelet, he looks at it for a second, nods his head, and then slips it on his wrist to add to his collection
the collection is getting a little bit too big for his one hand, so he's started putting them on his other wrist
everytime this happens, the aphrodite kid that gave him the bracelet makes fun of him for being a softie, but he just rolls his eyes and goes back to sipping his coke while watching the lake
aphrodite kids are also super touchy
they honestly have all the love languages, but their big one is physical affection
they LOVE hugs
they LOVE holding hands
they LOVE kissing
obviously the kissing is only in a romantic aspect, but you get it
if you're friends with an aphrodite kid, they're going to hug you all the freaking time
they just love showing their love for you by squeezing the air out of you!
aphrodite kids will hold hands with you platonically as well
obviously, if this makes you uncomfortable and you don't want to hold hands and/or hug, they'll respect that, but they kinda won't think to ask you if that makes sense
they'll never be like "are you okay if i hug you?"
but if you ever tell them politely that you don't want to be hugged, they won't hug you anymore
aphrodite kids are also crazy passionate
about literally everything
when they have a passion for something, they have a passion for it
like, they will dedicate their whole heart and soul to something because they love it
they just have a lot of love in their hearts that needs to go somewhere
another random thing: aphrodite children were born to be fangirls
(and boys but you know)
they all have a celebrity crush that they are obsessed with and will like dedicate their life to watching edits of
(if i was a child of aphrodite, it would be dior goodjohn)
(what am i talking about it already is)
they also have a love for art
like specifically art from the renaissance period, they LOVE that
they just can appreciate a really beautiful piece of artwork, because they see beauty in everything
there's a common misconception that aphrodite kids are mean and stuck up, and there definitely are mean and stuck up kids, but there's mean and stuck up kids from every cabin.
aphrodite kids are honestly some of the nicest and kindest and most loving people you'll ever come across
they do have a tendency to throw temper tantrums every once in a while, but not in the way that like a toddler throws a temper tantrum
like i said, they just have a lot of big emotions, and they don't always know what to do with them
aphrodite kids are also often overlooked in a battle sense
everyone thinks that just because they care about their appearance, they won't be good soldiers, but that is 100% NOT TRUE
aphrodite kids are amazing at fighting and battle, maybe not as good as others, but they are good and can hold their own
don't underestimate them, though, because if you do, they make it their mission to prove you wrong
also, when aphrodite kids set their mind to something, they make it happen
so if someone makes a comment about them not knowing how to use a sword... let's just say they'll show you they do
all in all, aphrodite kids are super fun to be around, and they're the kind of friend that you can depend on no matter what, so it's always good to have an aphrodite kid in your corner
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keishawantskisses · 5 days
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Oh, nothing much, just a list of reasons why I am so excited to permashift to my ultimate 4d reality //better current reality//
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
— EXPERIENCING DESIRED SCENARIOS
I am a hardcore daydreamer just like my brother and sister shifters(you guys🫵🏾), and I can't wait to really live the silly imagines I always have in my head. Even if it's something relatively small, I will still get to live every second of them.
Idk if some of you guys will remember that one post where I mentioned Googlebox? But I'm mentioning it again🙄 because I scripted me, my love of my life, his sister who is my bff, my own girl bff and her boyfriend are part of the program teehee. I swear no one will ever understand how much of a comfort show Googlebox is to me and in general.
The idea of being on TV whilst watching TV and relaxing with my favourite people and eating my favourite food just makes me melt. It's such a core memory to me and idk I just love showing off how perfect my family is to everyone else
— FOOD
I can't wait for all the delicious food I'll get to eat. There will never be a single time where I have to eat something I don't like or don't want to ever again, because why should I have to? I'm mostly excited to have stuff like popeyes, McDonald's, seafood boils, those Korean and Japanese foods you see on mukbangs, loads of fruit bowls (I really do love fruit), basically everything meat/barbecue, pasta including ramen, and sweets too cus🧍🏿‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
— NO UGLY CLOTHES ALLOWED
Never will there be a day or night where I will ever need to wear clothes that don't suit me or clothes I don't like. My closet is going to be full of the cutest and gorgeous late 90s and early 2000s skirts, shirts, bellbottoms, flares, jackets, oversized ts, shorts, belts, slippers, jewelry, panties and bras etc etc
— ALREADY COMPLETED WORK
In my better cr, I scripted that I am already miles ahead of everyone in college work (and best believe all my work is at distinction level) so I have all the time in the world to do what I want until the next brief; I also scripted the date of month that I will wake up in my better cr in is the 16th April last week so I will have only 3 days of college next week (because i go in on mondays, tuesdays, wendsays and Thursdays) and 4 weeks of freedom to myself. (I also scripted my teachers let me do my own art work in my free time in class, cus sometimes all a girl wants to do is draw their ocs🥺)
— CURRENTLY IN MY MOVING ERA
In better cr, I am kind of in the planning process of moving out of my house to my apartment penthouse with my friend group. I'm thinking of moving out at 18 or 19 years old since I'm 17 rn and I still want to explore my better cr house cus it's wayyyy better than this one. But even once I've moved out I'll probably keep visiting my old home where my mum and her husband lives because.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
Overall, I am so excited to experience everything I have ever dreamed of. I know I deserve my freedom and peace, excitement, and joy. Being able to just do what I want when I want and always knowing that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.
Life is so amazing, and it's so worth living. I know I will manifest my desired reality in no time, and I know all of the stress, time, anxiety, and patience won't be for nothing. Life is mine to explore, and I can't wait to do so
@4ellieluv @livingmydreamlife5555 @theshifterbear @cocozydiaries
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spacexseven · 1 year
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Thinking about a lil au idea of DOA or Rats of the House of the dead being basically your cult in the god reader idea.
Of course, the other “members” of the cult don’t see you in that much of a big light as Fyodor does (he’s the only one to be THAT devoted to you, really). But they are still members, and little by little they just
Start to like the idea wholeheartedly.
(I love the god reader idea so much it has me in a chokehold rn)
!! anime only's, you have been warned! the following includes spoilers for 2/3 of the unknown (as of now) members of the doa, and other stuff involving the doa.
i'm not writing for kamui 'cos this was a little long as it was. also am sticking w doa 'cos im more comfortable writing for nikolai, sigma and my little vampire rockstar :^^
cw: its kind of a cult, yandere themes (near the end)
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you had always known that the rats were only the beginning of fyodor's reign.
and maybe he knew that too—you could hear the soft smile in his voice when he asked you if you thought that the decay of the angel was a better-suited name for an organization that would carry out his plans and catalyze the great destruction you always said he would bring. you don't grace him with an answer, though even you have to agree that it was a name that, once uttered, could unsettle the bravest souls and fill them with trepidation. it was a fitting choice; symbolic, powerful, and ominous.
if anything, the other members were just as unpredictable and unnerving as fyodor was to you once. nikolai was the first you met. you later learned that he went against fyodor's words to come see you, seized by curiosity. bitterly, you realized that the reason why he stared at you so much was because he was studying you, like one would an insect. you almost wanted to seize some of that divine order you had and strike him down for being so blatant about his interest. but when you thought about how fyodor could never look you in the eyes, and how lonely it was as his god, you found yourself taking a liking to the eccentric clown.
there was a side to him, however, you're not sure you like at all. bloodied hands and a wicked grin to match, when anyone else seeks your time. fascination that was both lustful and violent in nature, and a possessive grip that didn't seem to let go of you.
"time for a quiz!" nikolai exclaims, "will the decay of the angel succeed?"
"of course," a wry smile plays at your lips, "who else has a god on their side?"
he laughs in response, loud and uninhibited. it's the most noise that's ever filled your room
sigma was a mystery that had too many missing pieces to be solved. a part of you could sympathize with him, having lost your own self to the blurred-together years and the exhaustion that came with being the only one with your level of sentience. however, you don't let yourself think about the book fyodor had used to create sigma, and what it meant to you. there are some things, you decide, that are best kept to yourself. some things that fyodor should never learn about.
sigma, in your first meeting, was slightly awkward; a perfectly natural response, but not in awe of your presence, not like fyodor. his voice was firm, but not unkind, and his words were respectful, but not...obedient. it was perfect.
in sigma, you found an unlikely friend. he told you about the mundane happenings in the outside world; a customer caught cheating, an employee that struggled to keep up, all the paperwork that was involved in the running of a casino in the sky. these things, as compared to your daily life, were nothing of the sort you would care about, but you listened all the same. regardless, you could tell sigma appreciated the sentiment.
you, however, don't appreciate his strange habits. recently, you think, he's been acting a little too much like fyodor. as much as you liked sigma for the natural ease that you felt by his presence, you couldn't brush off the ominous feeling that came with sigma seeking you out more and more. you start feeling like he's looking for validation of some kind from you, one you didn't wish to provide in fear that he may find this an encouragement. he reaches out for your hand often, something you might find amusing if not for the way his hand trembles.
"are you planning to leave?" nikolai, knowing the fool, must have said something to scare sigma.
"no," you say simply, "not yet."
"so you will leave," sigma frowns. you've seen that look directed to many a clumsy employee and messy files, but never to you. it's almost frightening, "don't you like it here?"
"besides, i..." he stops himself, "dostoevsky won't let you go. and...i don't want you to either. you should stay. we take care of you too, don't we?
unlike most people, you weren't surprised to see bram stoker. though in your memory, he was a lot more...whole and formidable of an opponent. more than that, you remembered him as a man turned into a monster that brought unimaginable destruction because of an ability he never asked for. it was a strange reminder of how much had really changed over the years. now, he seemed sullen, and defeated; it was a depressing sight.
now, he was exhausted. you could tell he didn't want to be here, with the decay of the angel. you could also tell that something was terribly wrong with the sword that was inside him and the pained look in his eyes. fyodor tells you of a kamui when he brings the coffin in, and just by the current state of bram and the utterance of his name, you know already you would not get along with him.
bram doesn't ask you questions, not about why you were here, or what you were doing for all those years. he doesn't explain his situation, and you don't pry. you can put the pieces together by yourself, and when it dawns on you what the kamui planned to do with bram, you realize that there were greater evils than fyodor.
there's a silent solidarity between you and bram, perhaps stemming from being something non-human. you get him the radio he's always wanted, insist that he be allowed to converse with you more often, and so on. these days, bram talks more, and it almost feels like you're talking to an old friend. bram's lived through some, though not most, of the things you have, and he remembers what nobody else does. you wonder, one day, if the two of you could have been friends had you met a lot earlier, and if you hadn't brushed off the news about the vampire ability user the first time. when you voice this out to him, bram has the most adorable reaction. your words make his eyes widen and, stupified, cause him to awkwardly change the topic, fumbling over his next few words.
ah, now you really wish you went to see him earlier.
it's that odd sensation of having a friend, caring for another, that urges you to offer your help to bram. you tell him you can get him out of here, out of the mortal angels' grasp; somewhere safe. you say you can help him regain his former state, help him survive within the shadows of humanity, like you had before. kamui, fyodor, or the doa; nothing will be able to stop you if you really wanted to make it happen, regardless of how complacent you were now.
at the very least, you thought, he might be pleased. grateful. maybe not elated, but, at the very least, relieved. instead, bram looked shocked. you can't tell if the idea horrifies him because he doesn't think you can do it, or because he believes that the decay of the angel was the only connection you had to him. perhaps he thought that saving him, freeing him, would also mean removing yourself from his life. you almost felt bad—you were very likely bram stoker's only friend in his miserable life.
still, you're not quite sure what to think when he extends his stay and starts contemplating, seriously, to cooperate with kamui. you can't wrap your mind around why he'd want to stay, and the possible loss of so many lives as a result unsettles you deeper than it does him, but he's steadfast in his decision. he tells you, with an unfamiliar tinge of scorn, that he was tired of trying to protect people, when all they did was try to kill him.
"if you're so sure, i suppose i'll have to stay here with you." concern weighs heavily on your mind, but more than that, suspicion lingers.
bram smiles, then, and seemingly relaxes in his coffin. an uncomfortable feeling seizes your chest. how had you not noticed?
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ethereal-blossom · 1 year
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izaya, dazai, and mori reacting to their s/o experiencing a major burnout to the point where they needed extensive medical attention due to their overall health plummeting due stress and fatigue. this is me rn ;-; im so overworked yet so underpaid lmfao thank you so much in advance! 💗
A/N: Hi, thank you so much for the long wait! I hope your situation has become better :( give my dear their rest and money🔪 I'm sorry Mori's part is a bit short compared to the others, but I hope you like it💖
Izaya:
Izaya loves all humans equally, but you're the exception as his favorite one and Shizuo being his least favorite.
With Izaya's special interest in human beings and his well-crafted observation skills, it didn't go unnoticed by him how you were becoming more tired and less happy step by step. The part of him that loved to observe humans was fascinated and wondered how far you could be pushed, but then again- you are his favorite.
Izaya only realizes you need extensive medical treatment after he returns from an underground job. If you haven't moved in with him already, Izaya will throw all his charm (or manipulation skills, really, who cares about the details?) into convincing you to stay at his place. Being an information broker and professional chaos lover has provided Izaya with enough money to spoil you rotten.
The question is whether he'll let you go back to work. And if you manage to convince him to let you go back to work, he's going to do a full background check on the company and its people.
Izaya has a hard time admitting this to you, himself, or anyone really, but seeing you become this fragile scared him. It's a feeling he immediately tries to shove away, but it only leads to him being more protective of you.
During your assigned recovery, you'll catch Izaya chuckling to himself. There are just so many fun possibilities to ruin your boss' life! Should he destroy it brick by brick? Or should he wreck it in one go? Whatever it is, it'll be cruel and twisted and fun. Your boss didn't think they could get away with treating his favorite little human like this, hm?
One thing is for certain: no matter how Izaya is going to destroy your boss' life, it'll be done through cyber damage. Izaya would rather not leave your side. He has been very cheery and confident around you, never giving you a sign of the fear he felt when he saw you turn into a burned-out version of yourself. But he has you tucked in bed and you just have to say it and he gives you anything you want. Izaya has Namie assist him in taking care of you, too.
Izaya does drop hints here and there about how he's going to be responsible for your boss' life taking a bad turn. If you try to confront him about this or prevent him from doing so, Izaya is going to ask you for a good explanation as to why not. It may even lead to a discussion, however, no reason will leave him satisfied. You've already gotten hurt, so the damage is already done and there's nothing the boss can do to make up for it except pay for it with his sins. Izaya can say he'll let it go, but you know he won't. If anything, he's more excited to start. Nobody messes with his favorite human except him.
Dazai:
Dazai puts great value in the one he gained but would never want to lose. It's one of the reasons he pays so much attention to you; he knows things about your behavior that even you are unaware of.
That's why Dazai is the first to observe how you're slowly burning out. He encourages you to copy his work ethic (lying on a couch and letting your partner do all the work), but he never convinces you no matter how much he tries to tug at your strings.
But when Dazai comes home from a mission he had to travel for and sees you so burned out to the point of needing extensive medical care, he was livid and scared. From the inside, that is. From the outside, he'd be calm and reassuring, even cheery once you feel better.
Dazai would insist that he stays home with you to become your personal nurse. He would cling onto you whenever you want to leave the bed, claiming you were on bed rest, which automatically meant he was on bed rest, too.
He'd take care of you in his own silly way. He makes you laugh, distracts you from the tiredness, buys you the biggest teddy bear you've seen in your life, and prevents you from doing anything.
Nonetheless, there's going to be a time you need to get back to work. Once you do, you notice something strange about your boss. It's like they are a whole new person. They offer you tea or coffee the minute you step in, push out a nervous chuckle that's supposed to sound friendly, and say you can take a break whenever you feel like you need one. It wouldn't take long for you to realize there was something off... and you could tell who was behind it.
When confronting Dazai though, expect him to be packed in denial. "Me?" He answers with doe eyes that scream innocence and surprise, which means he was definitely not innocent nor surprised. "Do I look like someone who would threaten your boss? I was taking care of you all that time!" Yes Dazai, you look like that type of person. But the latter was true since you cannot point out a moment he must have had a talk with your boss. Dazai had taken his role as your personal nurse very seriously to the point he rarely had been out of your sight.
Dazai knows you'd have to let it go eventually because you have no evidence against him. Even if you did find the courage to ask your boss if your boyfriend had talked to him, the boss wouldn't slip up. The only evidence you have is the fear in your boss' eyes when mentioning your boyfriend and the sly but satisfied smile you caught on Dazai's face when he knew he got away with it.
Mori:
Being the boss of the port mafia is a time-consuming job, especially when you're almost at war with another underground organization. It's why Mori, who is always eager to spoil you rotten, wasn't there to see how work was affecting you for the worst.
Mori made sure the upcoming threat was nothing more but forgotten dust, and one look at you after he came back made him want to do the same to your boss. You could see it in his expression, how it changed from excitement to surprise to deadly and back to soft but cheery in the span of a few seconds.
Absolutely takes this opportunity as an excuse to spoil you rotten more than he already does. After all, who can take better care of you than himself, the doctor who loves you the most?
The doctor in him comes out; checking your vitals, making sure you eat and drink, assigning you time to rest but also to go out and make a little walk with him. And oh, look what a cute thing he bought for you the other day! Yeah, it wouldn't be Mori if he didn't take this opportunity to buy new clothes for you and to doll you up as much as you let him.
Mori will offer to bring harm to your boss as if it's a sweet declaration of love. Whatever your answer, he makes sure your boss learns their lesson.
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minhosimthings · 7 months
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For Love to Exist: A Hyunjin Fic
Synopsis: In which Aphrodite makes a plan for two loveless souls.
Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Fem!reader, includes rest of Skz (side characters)
Word count: don't know but it's really long
Warnings: Fluff, angst, slow burn, mentions of self harm, and mental abuse, reader is an orphan, mentions of food and drink. She/her pronouns used, reader has scars on her skin
A/N: this is sort of a self indulgent fic for me and it is dedicated to all the people in my life who have made me feel like I am worthy of love again. This is based off of my own experiences due to my abusive past and how I let those go with the help of the people I've met here in university. I based Y/N off of myself (I hope you don't mind) because I feel like Hyunjin would be the type of person to love s person, regardless of their past, and ignorant of their future (and also I'm too delulu for Hyun rn). I dedicate this fic to all the people around the world, who feel that they do not deserve a red heart, and an I love you everyday. I dedicate this fic to the little girl inside of me, who still thinks that she is unworthy of love.
For love to exist, souls should exist too. For love to breathe, souls should take a deep breath too. For love to live, souls should learn how to live too. But for you, souls simply did not exist. They were just imaginary things made up by boring adults to tell children why they married their partners, to mask whatever what going on in reality. Why would anyone believe in souls and hearts and bonds and all that bullshit? Kids, of course, believed it.
You, on the other hand, were taught by cold eyes, ever since forever. Cold eyes had taught you that warm ones always lied and that love was just a fairytale made up to increase the population of earth. Cold eyes told you that June wasn't about pretty flowers and sundresses. They taught you it was about the burning sun and the heatwaves. Cold eyes taught you that flowers were nothing more than biological creations of two genetically unique organisms. Cold eyes taught you that the world was just the Earth, just a globe and that the universe didn't care for a tiny speck like you.
Work, Eat, and sleep. Those were the only things you did with passion. Those were the only things in your life that you noticed and yearned for. It was painful to watch your coworkers at the company, who were below you, enjoy life so much. As chief editor, you had less work than they did, yet they saw life as a chance. They saw life as a chance to enjoy the fruits of the universe, while you still saw life as a scarred being. Funny, how you thought that everyone else was mad to have love in their lives, yet there you were with scars on your chest, both physical and mental, going unnoticed by the minute.
Until Hyunjin came into your life.
Hwang Hyunjin. Step son of your goddamned boss. You were told that he would be working alongside you as both an assistant editor and as a new cartoonist, replacing Mr Park, who had resigned five days ago. You groaned at the idea of having someone follow you all day, asking you if you needed anything. You were better off without an assistant or a cartoonist. But your magazine wasn't the leading magazine in South Korea for no reason. The illustrations provided alongside the thigh slapping articles always provided the greatest entertainment to the millions of readers. Mr Park was an old man, who was always quiet and mostly kept to his drawings, exactly your preference. Someone who doesn't annoy you or ask about your love life because apparently, at 23, a woman has nothing better to do. But a man, your age, who you've heard used to be a singer in a band, yeah that wasn't going to work with you.
Your boss had introduced you guys on his first day. He was.... surprisingly handsome. His eyes were like a kitten's, small and glittery, as if Andromeda had poured all her stars into them. His nose and jawline were so sharp, in total contrast to his gaze, soft and pinkish. You wondered why all those thoughts were coming into your head. Never before had they had even touched your mind, when you saw other men and women around you, no matter how pretty they were.
He worked in silence. Complete silence. He wouldn't even move his chair or anything. The desk on which he worked was so pristine and organized, very much like yours, exactly like yours. But there was an aura with which he worked on piece of paper with a black ink pot that you could only dream of having. It was like the sky favoured him, sunlight illuminating all of his features, including some tiny moles on his face. You couldn't help but admire his serious face, headphones in, with an ink stained brush moving swiftly across paper, tracing the tiny dots and lines of whatever he was making. You had first approached the company as a cartoonist yourself, having the skills because of an art minor. But soon the director saw you better as a journalist and slowly but surely you moved your way up the ladder to become chief editor. And when you saw other people doing something you used to love doing, you wondered if you hadn't accepted the job as an editor, would your life have been so mundane? So brown and still?
"Um Miss Y/N?" A voice broke you out of your stupor, starting you and getting your mind away from the articles on your computer screen. Hyunjin was standing next to you, holding pieces of paper in one hand and his brush in the other. He had a dab of ink sprawled across his nose. Cute, you thought.
"I, uh, finished the illustration for the first article you sent. Are they ok?" He gave you five pieces of paper, all with funny intonations on them, a cookie wearing hat, and an iguana wearing a DJ's glasses. It was cute, really cute you thought, as you gave them back to him, nodding in approval and shooting him a small smile. "You have ink on your nose, did you know that?" You pointed out to him, handing him a tissue from your tissue box, which he took and immediately disappeared behind his computer, wiping his nose aggressively. Cute, so cute.
You usually left work at eight thirty, not too late and not too early that you'd miss your tea. But something made you want to stay back today. Someone, specifically. Hyunjin told you that he usually went home by ten, since he didn't do much during the night. You refrained from telling him when you went, lest he question why you stayed back today.
"Miss Y/N I'll be heading out now. Good night." He held up his olive green bag and waved goodbye to you. Something inside of you wanted to say 'Wanna go together?' but you had always ignored that something so you instead waved back to him and started picking up your things.
That day, the old grandmother at the ramen shop you always went to said something was different about you and told you to smile more. You didn't know whether or not that was a complement but you took it willingly along with spicy ramen with beef.
"Miss Y/N I-" "Hyunjin stop call me Miss. Im your age. Just call me Y/N, alright?" You finally got that sentence out of your mouth after keeping it in for an entire week. An entire week Hyunjin addressed you with honorifics and today you wanted to tell him that just your name was enough. Just your name coming out of his mouth like a sweet melody was alright. "Oh well ok Y/N." He said with some difficulty, feeling awkward not using the proper words. "I wanted to say that lunch break began over two hours ago and you still haven't got up from your seat, so I uh bought you something. I asked your co workers what you usually eat so um yeah." He did what? You looked down at his extended hand, holding a box of your usual Ramyeon and an americano. You silently took the food from his hands, shooting him a quick 'thank you'. He deserved more than that, but at that moment, all your shocked brain could do was that.
Someone cared for you. Someone noticed that you weren't eating. Someone noticed how you stayed on this cold October day. And that was sort of sweet? Someone did that for you and for once it seemed he did not want anything in return. That couldn't be true, you thought as you silently ate your Ramyeon, all the while shooting tiny glances at Hyunjin, who was once again immersed in his drawings. Seeing him so deeply imbued in an art, which provided him a job, was so endearing to look at. He was doing something he enjoyed, while earning money for it. Isn't that what everyone in the world would love?
"Um Hyunjin? Hyunjin." You snapped your fingers in front of Hyunjin, who had his headphones on, with that brush back in his hand. He looked so cute, being broken out of his hypnotised state. His eyes blinked at you for a few seconds, before he took the headphones off and greeted you. "What is it Mi- I mean Y/N?" God he was so handsome. He was in a loose baby blue sweater and white pants today. He looked so dainty and fragile as if you touch him and he'll break. "I uh wanted to thank you again for the food today. Um. Any way I can thank you for it? Maybe buy you a coffee?" You could feel your cheeks getting redder by the moment. Even if he couldn't see the blush, you could definetly feel them. If your guardian angels were watching you right now, they'd be saying 'Y/N get your ass up and stop blushing so much.'. "Oh. Um uh" Hyunjin stuttered for a bit before checking his watch. Nine thirty am. There was still half an hour left to go home, meaning you both had enough time to grab a coffee and perhaps a bagel or something tasty.
"Oh course Y/N. But please do not pay for my food. You need not repay me for lunch." Your pleas for that sentence went unheard, as Hyunjin kept saying that he didn't want anyone to pay for him, reasoning that lunch was a basic human need and he was just helping his co worker out. Something about the way he defended himself and explained things was so adorable. It was like a ferret explaining why it's fur is white and why it's ears are so round.
"This is surprisingly good." You commented, as Hyunjin and you sat by the little round table in the coffee shop, drinking Americans and eating Macarons. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you are your pistachio Macaron. "You never had a Macaron before in your life?" You shook your head at his question, trying to swallow your bite of the Macaron quickly, so as to answer his question. "No actually." You managed to cough out after what seemed like five hours of you chewing the sweet dessert. "I don't have a preference for sweet things. I used to but I grew out of it." Hyunjin looked up at you, from staring at his shoes. "You used to? Well I always used to believe that a sweet tooth could never grow out of their preferences. Turns out I was wrong then." The corners of your mouth twitched as your heart itched not to say 'why are you so perfect?' to the man sitting in front of you. "So what musicians do you listen to?" It was now your turn to look up at him with wide eyes. It was funny how both of you were eating food together like two normal human beings, yet neither of you dared to look at each other, or maintain direct eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. "Pardon?" You asked him, eyebrow raised and foot tapping on the floor. He stumbled back a bit and said, in a apologetic tone, "Oh I didn't mean to impose. Im sorry. I just thought, you know we see each other every single day, and I have never gotten to know what my coworker likes a dislikes so um.. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Seeing him apologize like that was like seeing a puppy apologize to a black cat. You probably looked scary right now, with your expression and your rigid figure, so it made sense for Hyunjin to react like that.
"Oh it's alright Hyunjin." You said, shooting him the tiniest smile ever. "People don't really ask me questions about myself that often so I was kind of taken aback." Hyunjin just nodded and hummed in response to your bland statement.
That night, when you went home, you thought to yourself, about how much you missed human interaction. Most often disassociation and loneliness were your favourite drugs, but Hyunjin asking you a simple question about your favourite singer, made those drugs seem pleasure less. Your therapist would have probably looked you up and down and immediately told you that you were in love, being the hopeless romantic he was. People were scared to approach you. You, with your head held high in the air, your gait threatening that of Hera's, and your expression, cool and wicked. But Hyunjin just casually asked you what musicians you listen to, as if he had known you for years and he was meeting up with you again, at a school reunion. It was shocking to you, how he could just say that, without stuttering. Yes he did stutter later on, but it was so adorable the way he apologized to you, hands nervously palming at his fingers and nose silently twitching. Maybe friends weren't so bad after all, you thought, as the stars looked at you in pity, talking amongst themselves, about where had God gone wrong with you.
A sticky note? Your boss never left sticky boss for you. Usually his assistant to deliver you messages. So who wrote this mysterious pink sticky note, stuck to your computer with a smiley and something written on it? You had arrived at work after Hyunjin today, who, once again was is a hypnotic state, lightly bobbing his head to whatever was playing inside of those blue headphones. You slightly suspected that the note was probably his, as you sat down on your chair, hanging your bag in the usual place beside your table. You pulled off the note from the computer and examined it closely. There was something written on it with a glittery purple pen.
I scared you yesterday with my question. So I'm going to ask you through a note. What musicians do you listen to? (PS you can answer through a sticky note too)
You noticed Hyunjin kept giving you small glances from time to time, only taking his eyes away from his art for a fraction of a second. Cute, you thought, really cute. This was by far the cutest thing he had done. You silently took up a glittery blue pen from your drawer and wrote some sentences on a different sticky note, knowing when you were going to stick it.
"Hyunjin could you do me a favour?" You tapped on his desk to alert him. He looked up at you once again, with those same doe eyes. You noticed the ink once again splattered on his nose. "Yeah?" "Could you take this up to Mr Kim once and ask him if this is how he wanted the article to be edited?" You handed him a blue file to take it upto your boss, which is silently took and went up to the boss's office, giving you enough time to stick the note onto his computer. You made a last minute addition to the note, before rushing off to the canteen, lest Hyunjin catches you in your mischievous act. Even though it was just sticking a note to your co worker's computer this felt like the most amazing thing you had ever done in your life, the most daring.
Where had you gone? Hyunjin had come back to his desk after handing off the file to the boss, who said he'd give it back tomorrow, only to find you nowhere to be found. He swore that he had saw you here just a second ago. Where had you gone now? Shrugging his shoulders and telling himself that you had probably taken a bathroom break, he sat back down on his desk, ready to complete the illustrations for the day, that you had given him yesterday, when he noticed something stuck to his computer. A green sticky note. Could it be? Did you respond to his very creepy, weirdo nerd way of asking you a question in order to get to know you better?
When Hyunjin sat down on his chair, and slowly pulled the sticky note out, he sweated that his heart had skipped a hundred beats (or 143 beats hehe). Your loopy handwriting was scrambled on it with sparkly blue ink.
This is very middle school of us to be passing notes in work but I like listening to Lana del Rey, Florence and The Machines, a bit of k-pop and lot of classical music. Now you answer my question along with your own question. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? (PS you have ink on your nose)
Hyunjin's soul was doing backflips in his stomach. Having an obsession for love, he wondered whether this was how Cupid felt like when he shot his first arrow. You listened to the same artist he did. He absent-mindedly wondered about what question to ask you next when you came out from the canteen, carrying lunch for the both of you. "Oh hey Hyunjin." You said in what you hoped wasn't an over active tone. "I uh got you lunch to pay back for when you got me lunch and um here you go." You awkwardly handed him the cup of spicy tteokbokki along with some other dishes and an Americano. As if returning the awkwardness, he mumbled a sheepish 'thank you', grabbed the food and hid behind his desk. Somewhere in the clouds Aphrodite was sighing, not knowing what to do with you two.
After a few hours, when you had gotten up to go the boss's office, Hyunjin saw his golden chance and took it. He scribbled his question onto a pink sticky note and quickly stuck it to your desk, frantically sitting back on his chair and pretending to be focusing on his cartoon which had long been completed.
Happiness. Happiness was all you and Hyunjin felt that night, when both of you parted ways. It was that happiness which a fourteen year old gets when their crush pays attention to them. It was mischievous happiness, as both you went home and pondered about questions and answers. Middle school romance was something neither of you had, with him not finding the correct person, who would love him for who he is, and you just not wanting love anymore. Aphrodite would be probably be smiling right now, twirling her roses and she makes the next part of her plan.
"Hyunjin! Over here!" It was raining very heavily today and you had chosen this very day to not take your car. Apparently Hyunjin had done the same thing, as both of you saw other close to the cafe a distance from your work. He didn't have an umbrella and you had spotted him running over in the direction of your work, blue hoodie gripped tightly over his head. "Did the universe have to choose the day I didn't get my car to rain?" He shouted at you as you both were shielded by your umbrella. "I was thinking the same thing!" You shouted back at him. "Let's get inside the cafe!"
The cafe thankfully wasn't crowded at all, and as you took off your coat and shoes to dry, you appreciated the heat coming from inside the cafe. It was on the more traditional side, with a wooden interior and sepia toned plants hidden in mud pots.
"Oh great." Hyunjin sighed. He was holding his phone is his hands, having taken off his hoodie and his shoes before you did and setting his bag down at a table for two. "Boss just texted. Work's cancelled for three days straight." "So we went through all that rain for nothing?" You deflated on the comfy chair, opposite Hyunjin, who was revealed to be wearing a dark blue shirt underneath his baby blue hoodie. "Well damn it. What do we do now? I didn't bring my car and neither did you. Do we have to wait out the storm here?" You asked him, wiping your face with a handkerchief. "Well we can." Hyunjin responded. "I think the owner will probably let us." You raised a brow at him at that statement while he just stared into space, as if expecting an alien to show up any moment. "How do you know the own-" "HWANG HYUNJIN YOU FINALLY DRAG YOUR ASS HERE TO SEE ME."
A very loud voice rang through the cafe, accompanied by a much quieter 'Hyunjin's here?'. Hyunjin groaned and buried his face in his hands, as a handsome man with olive skin, brown hair, and the prettiest nose ever, came striding up to your table, wearing the uniform of the cafe. He promptly pulled up a chair and collapsed onto it, next to Hyunjin, all the while playfully glaring at him. "Hey Minho hyung." Hyunjin mumbled, not looking directly at whoever this Minho was. The other man clicked his tongue out of disapproval and said, "Say that louder would ya? And why have you not been coming to visit me and emotional dump on me for like two weeks? Oh and who's this lovely young lady?" He looked into your eyes at that last bit, startling you a bit, at how round and black his eyes were, like tiny little boba balls. "I'm Y/N." You extended a hand forward. "L/N Y/N" Minho took your hand and shook it with a firm grip, before getting up and slightly bowing to you. "Well Miss Y/N, may I get you anything? Perhaps something which is not an Americano, which is what this monster" he motioned to Hyunjin "drinks?" You gave him a calculator look before saying, "Oh. Um I would like an americano actually and probably one for Hyunjin too please." Minho looked ever so slightly taken aback by your words. "As you wish!" He declared before giving Hyunjin and a smirk and leaving.
"So who was that?" You asked Hyunjin, whose ears were burning red. With a sigh, he put his elbows on the table, burrying his head in them.
"That was Lee Minho. A college mate of mine, who opened a cafe with a friend of his, soon after graduation, because apparently he didn't want to get into a boring job." He chuckled slightly at that. "He's a mentor to me. He's like I think two years older than me and he treats me like a damn baby. But it's fine cause I'm the one who helped him cheat on his exams so I get free shit here."
"Americano for two?" Oh hey Hyunjin!" A freckled boy had come up to your table, americano filled cups in his hand. His skin was porcelain, like glass, dotted with star like freckles, with blonde hair framing his beautiful face. "Hey Lix." Hyunjin patted the boy's back, as he set the coffee down on the table. "How's your mum now? Is the treatment working?" A smile never seemed to leave this boy's face, as he sat down in the chair which Minho had pulled up earlier. "She's good now. Much better! I've been sending her some brownies every now and then but she's still disappointed because apparently her son won't get a girlfriend." He slightly pouted as Hyunjin chuckled lightly. "Oh who's this? Wait are you-" the boy looked at you with excited eyes, before gasping and turning his head to Hyunjin. "Is this the Y/N you told me about?" He excitedly extended a hand towards you, which you took, experience pleasure at his soft grip and hands, which was in stark contrast to Minho's handshake. "I'm Felix! Lee Felix. Nice to meet you! Y/N right?" The amount of happiness radiating from this boy was so much that you thought he was probably the reincarnation of Helios himself. "Nice to meet you too Felix. I'd introduce myself, but judging from your excitement I believe Hyunjin's already told you about me." You gave him a smile, which he returned. "Yah Felix!" Minho's voice came from across the wooden walls. Felix groaned and got up from his chair saying goodbye to both of you and rushing off to Minho.
"They're really nice." You told Hyunjin, sipping on your americano. It was nice and weird to have people like you for who you are. It was kind of alien to you, to meet two people who knew about you. It was even more alien of Hyunjin to tell people about you. What could people tell about you? What fragments of your being attracted Hyunjin that he told his friends about your existence?
"Y/N are you ok?" Hyunjin's voice broke your mind from staring at the rain pouring outside. The storm had calmed down now and it was just lightly drizzling, drops staining the window, racing against each other. "Oh yes I'm good. Sorry."
"So you wanna talk about the notes or should we keep it a middle school secret?" Hyunjin's question rang across your brain, and as you sipped on your americano, you couldn't help but notice how innocent that question was. It was just a question. It wasn't an interrogative question, which you'd be punished for if you didn't answer. You fingers unconsciously went up to your wrists when you thought about that question. "What do you suggest? I'm alright with answering the question in person, instead of exchanging notes." You responded, keeping your tone casual, so as to not reveal the fast pace of your heart beat.
Hyunjin smiled at you and sipped on his americano again. "My favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio. And I also like listening to Lana del Rey and classical music. My turn now." He leaned forward slightly. "A song which you could listen to, for all eternity?" Musical questions were what you enjoyed the most, having being in love with music ever since your ears picked up the tune of twinkle twinkle little star. Hyunjin's question seemed hard, since your favourite song changed every few seconds and you couldn't just choose one melody to pleasure your ears for all of eternity. "Hmm" you responded after a while. "Probably Love by Lana Del Rey." "Why so?" Hyunjin asked.
"Because along with having an amazing tune and the greatest vocals ever," you started your lecture "It's also such a deep song. The way she is symbolising young love is so beautiful, from the way she alters her voice at certain lines to the lyrics themselves. I especially fell in love with the chorus because it signifies such a beautiful matter of being so much in love that even the tiniest actions can seem like elephantine gestures. Even that lyric 'The world is yours and you can't refuse it' it's so pretty. It's symbolising that feeling of ruling the world when you fall in love. Or atleast I think it does. I've never fell in love so."
You fell quiet after your rambling, hoping that it didn't freak him out how much you knew about one particular song, which you definetly did not write an entire essay about. L/n Y/n you've done it again. You've scared a person off because of your rambling about your hyperfixation because you have nothing else to love. Great job, you thought.
But as you looked over at Hyunjin's face, it was happy? His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted as if thinking what to say, his americano straw remained in his mouth, but he wasn't sipping on it. He was in total awe, something you couldn't see.
"That- that was amazing." He said after a pregnant silence. "I never thought about songs that way honestly. But I think from now on I'll start thinking of it like that." God his smile was so handsome. The way the corners of his mouth stretched and the way his lips always slightly parted, it was all so pretty. And since when have you became so observant? To notice a man's manner of smiling?
Aphrodite smiled again in the clouds, calling for her chariot, to take a ride across the sky, making up the next step of her masterplan.
It was still pitter-pattering outside the window as both of you finished your drinks. You declined Minho's offer to eat, since you had already ate a lot for breakfast and you weren't feeling hungry. You tasted a bit of Felix's brownies, for which you complemented the freckled boy so mich to point where his glass skin turned into stained red glass.
"God the rain is stopping, how the hell are we going to get home?" Hyunjin sighed, as he meant back in his chair. You both had put your shoes, hoodie and coat back on and were staring out the window. You had an idea in your mind. A peculiar idea. An idea unlike you. An idea made by your heart controlled mind. You know how they say that we should never let our heart control our brain? Well sometimes, just sometimes, in the tiniest moments, we could let it control our being just a little bit.
"Doyouwanttocomeovertomyhouseitsreallycloseby" "I beg your pardon?" Oh great you spoke the easiest sentence in the fastest way you could possibly imagine. You should probably get the Nobel Prize for the most awkward person ever. Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Hyunjin (perhaps for the first time) and said, "Would you like to come over to my house? It's close by and I can drop you off at your house if I get my car." Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback by your suggestion, and as he pondered over it with a series of 'ohs' and 'ums', you mentally scolded yourself. How could you never say the right thing ever? How did you manage to say the wrong thing every single time? How did you manage to scare off every person every single time? Were you really not capable of love? Was your mother really right?
"If I don't impose Y/N, I would like to come over to your house. I should actually probably get going home too, so I accept your offer, only if it doesn't bother you." Your heart lifted from where it was earlier. Listening to the words coming out of Hyunjin's mouth in the soft tone, was something so comforting to you. It was like the smell of old books, like the way flowers moved in the wind, like the way wine swirled in a wine glass and like the way melodies danced to the beat of a song.
"This is your house?" You and Hyunjin had walked all the way to your house, shielded by his umbrella. It was safe to say that your house was a very luxurious one, in the more expensive side, courtesy to your high profile job. It was a two bedroom house, with the most beautiful terrace and balcony anyone had ever seen, which gave a view of the Seoul skyline. "It's beautiful." Hyunjin breathed out. "Come inside." You said, taking off your shoes at the entrance and unlocking the wooden door. "Want some food?" Hyunjin shook his head as both of you entered your house, his mouth dropping on seeing the interior. You had a conversation pit inside your house, much like one of those 80's sitcoms, and it was the most queer thing in your house. It was purple and magenta, with white finishings and a pretty carpet, sitting below a glass table. "It seems the interior is much prettier than the exterior." Hyunjin said, as you both entered the pit, sitting down. You sheepishly smiled and mumbled a thank you, before getting up to get him some water, even though you both had downed a big cup of americano.
"Your books are really interesting." You had started showing Hyunjin around your house, and when you reached the library portion, he wouldn't move from there. Granted, you did have a pretty library, decorated with fake moss and hanging vines, which made it look like a shelf growing out of the forest. "What is so interesting about them?" You asked him as he stroked the book covers with his fingers, to which he smiled and pointed to the last two books. "Their arrangment is fascinating first of all. I mean The Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice are sitting together, as if going for a tea party. Did you arrange them yourself?" You only nodded to his question, too scared to answer. "The second interesting thing about this bookshelf is that all the books are so dual to each other. You have Harry Potter-" he pointed to the topmost shelf, "then you have 1984-" his fingers went to a handsome leather book, "and then finally you have a pop up children'd book." He laughed pointing to the bottom most shelf, where a glittery pink book lie. You blushed, as you saw that book. It was the book, which your best friend at the orphanage had given to you, before she was taken away. You cherished it a lot, it being the only form of love you had ever recieved in your life. "Woah you have Taylor Caldwell too!" Hyunjin said, excitedly, his fingers bouncing on the shelf closest to him, where a series of faded books lie. "Do you want them perhaps?" You asked him, to which he gave you a sad smile. "I've always loved her since the age of eleven but I could never buy any of her books, courtesy to my mum thinking they're too 'westernised'." "You can take some if you want. I hardly ever read these ones." You pulled out some of the books and put them in his hands. He looked surprised and his eyes widened at you. After much trial and error, which included him refusing to take the books, and you threatening to leave him out in the rain if he didn't take them, he finally stuffed then into his bag, thanking you over and over again.
The car ride to his home was fun, to say the least. Hyunjin narrated some funny stories with Minho and Felix, and a few of his other friends. You were shocked to find out that he used to be in a band, where he played the drums. "You must play them for me one day." You said, as you pulled up to a light. "as payback for the books." Hyunjin gave you that sweet smile again, causing your brain to malfunction.
"Thank you for the ride home Y/N. And for the books." Hyunjin said as you both pulled up to his house. "Say I have a question." He said, before unbuckling his seatbelt (drive safely kids). "Would you ever be interested in spending your lunch break with me everyday? Cause I really like talking to you and I don't have many friends at work. Only if you want to though!" God he was so adorable with those round eyes and those cute cheeks. Was he actually so cute or was your hopeless brain just making it up?
Aphrodite sighed again as she watched you silently from the bushes, happy that you were going on the right path, but worried about the trajectory of your mind.
Spending time with Hyunjin were the best moments of your life. It was surprisingly fun to spend a part of your day everyday with Hyunjin. It was just lunch and americanos, fresh from Minho's cafe, since it was the only one you liked now. You warmed up to him more than you had wanted to, and for the first time, your brain didn't mind being ruled by your heart. Hyunjin had introduced you to some of his closest friend, who came to visit him at work, making sure he didn't overwork himself. And he had interesting friends. Apart from Minho and Felix, there was a producer group called 3Racha who wrote songs for a company called JYP. It was composed of the three most kindest people you had ever met. Jisung, Changbin and Chan treated you like their own sister, often picking up an Americano for you whenever they got one for Hyunjin. You met Hyunjin's youngest friends Seungmin and Jeongin at Minho's cafe, when Jeongin bumped into your shoulder, dropping his books and apologizing to you frantically. Both of them were University students, one having a pottery studio and the other studying computer science. They were mischievous little things, but you loved them too, with you sharing Seungmin's love for pottery and Jeongin's hatred for sugary foods. It was so fun, having friends, even if they weren't your friends from the beginning. This was the first time you had experienced happiness ever since you were eight.
The words on your books weren't skimmed over by your eyes anymore. Instead they were carefully taken in, word by word, appreciating how every letter formed the beautiful sentence. Now, winter wasn't about surviving anymore. Instead it was about being warm and cosy, all wrapped up in a big blanket, hugging a plushie and drinking hot chocolate as pretty winter flakes poured outside the window. Now you digged out the sundresses you haven't worn in so long, and you would wear them to work every now and then, catching the eyes of every person you passed (because you are the most beautiful person on earth LOVE YOURSELF I LOVE YOU). You never noticed it, but now, Hyunjin looked at you differently. He wasn't a very defensive person, choosing to end arguments quickly, but whenever his eyes set upon your figure dancing in a yellow sundress, embroidered with flowers, he swore that he would burn done the entire world for you. Both of you regularly met up at each other's house, having k drama nights, where you would do nothing but cry over the slow burn, and try out a new snack from the local convenience store every time. Sometimes Hyunjin would play the drums for you, taking your excited requests of the 70's and 80's rock songs. It was all so perfect, having Hyunjin in your life and every time you saw him moving his own across a piece of paper, whipping up a cartoon for you as a gift, your heart smiled, urging you to let it take over for just a little longer.
But Aphrodite had something else in plan.
Sometimes the Gods plan sinister things for humans. Sometimes they say 'lets whip up conflict'. And most often it's not between one human and another. Most often it's between a human and her own mind. You had gotten a call on a nice Thursday morning, when you were about to set out for work, clad in a white dress, which reached your knees. A call from your adoptive parents. Unbeknownst to the entire world, behind your pretty face, you hid a grief filled secret behind those glassy eyes. Your childhood wasn't all sunshines and rainbows. You had grown up in an orphanage basically your entire life, and at the tender age of eleven, you had gotten adopted by a rich couple. Good right? Nope it was the polar opposite. Turns out they had adopted you for their own benefit, to gain support from the media to continue their company or some bullshit like that. It had haunted you all your life, how they would never speak a word to you, never a word of affection. It was just words of 'who would ever love you?' and 'you aren't capable of love'. When you had gotten accepted in college, with a full ride scholarship, they had help a party, not for you, but to brag that their daughter, whom they did not even love, had gotten into a college all by herself. They had turned their devil tails into angel wings and it angered you, but you stayed silent. Why should you fight battles with other people when you could fight a battle with your own mind? You had cut off all communications with them however as soon as you left for college. Now it was just you and the world. Getting a job was the hardest thing and you still remember all those days that you survived on water and biscuits, like Marie Curie, when she used to research on radioactivity. You had learnt that your 'parents's' buisness had gone bankrupt, soon after you had gotten a job, but they still hadn't ever contacted you until this Thursday. It was Seungmin's birthday today and you had gotten him a puppy keychain, one that he had been wanting for a long time, which he had told you about in secret. You had purchased it the day before and wrapped it up in a cute box, writing some notes on the top. It was supposed to be the most perfect day. Happiness and melted ice cream that was what this day was supposed to be.
"Hello?" You had picked up your mother's call and your world came crashing down immediately. "Hey there Y/N. We need some money right now and we know you work for Mr Kim. Send us some money please." Not even a hello. The woman who had given you food and shelter didn't even say a hello. The woman who you owed nothing to didn't even say hello.
Hyunjin wondered where you were that day. You wouldn't ever miss a day of work and plus you were excited for Seungmin's birthday. You were going to go for a birthday party which was to be held at Chan's house. Hyunjin had told you that most of the boys would be bringing their girlfriends so you could meet them. You wouldn't never have missed this, especially not when your eyes lit up, when he had told you that Seungmin would be singing for you guys and Minho would be bringing his famous meat. So why? Why was your chair lying all alone and your americano untouched? He had asked Mr Kim whether you had called him today, to which he got disappointment when Mr Kim said no. Your boss didn't really care whether or not you took breaks, since you mostly finished your work in advance, in order to save time. That day Hyunjin told the guys, that he wouldn't be coming to the party, much to their disappointment. But they understood when he said that he was worried for you. He basically talked about you 24/7 and the boys still didn't understand how their most romantic friend ever ended up not knowing what love was.
Hyunjin had an extra key to your house, which you had given him after two months of knowing him, trusting him enough to keep an emergency contact. Hyunjin kept fiddling with it on the cab ride to your place, massaging his nerves to calm himself down. As he reached your house, the atmosphere around him changed. It became gloomy, even when the Sun attacked him with his rays. The sunflowers in your garden all seemed to bow their heads to him, as if to apologise.
"Y/N?" Hyunjin stepped inside your house, calling your name. "Y/N where are you?" He shouted a little louder this time. If you weren't in the living room, you'd be up in your bedroom or the library. Hyunjin slowly climbed up the stairs to the second floor, taking in the eerie silence of the house. It was such a loud silence. He could hear something in the distance but he didn't know what it was. Was it a cat? He heard a wailing noise that sounded something like a wolf crying.
The door to your bedroom was open. Hyunjin stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. He knew how creepy this was, to enter a person's house like this, but he didn't have a choice. "Y/N?" He called out, noticing the light in your bathroom switched on. "Y/N!" You were sitting on the floor, with a knife next to you. Your hair was in tangles and your body swayed back and forth, As you kept mumbling something to yourself. Your upper arm was slightly bleeding and your breathing was heavy. You had been lying there for the entire morning. You were still in your dress,which was now stained with blood from your arm. Your face was tear stained and your eyes were glassy. "Y/n. Hey look at me. Look at me. I'm here." You looked up to see Hyunjin's worried face, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted again. "Hyunjin?" You breathed out in a weak voice, which made Hyunjin's heart drop to his knees. "Yes it's me. Hey breathe. Please breathe for me." He coached you through breathing in and out, which calmed you down a bit, but you were still shivering and your skin was ice cold and white. You looked like a ghost. A ghost with sunken eyes and shocked expression stuck on its face.
Hyunjin carefully lifted you up and carried you to your bed, careful not to disturb your injury, which he immediately knew how it happened, from the knife lying beside you. He got some cloth and medicine for you from the first aid kit you hid under your bed, something you had told him a long time ago. You watched him with wide eyes as he carefully dressed your wound and got some water for you, forcing you to drink it.
"What happened? And it's ok if you don't wanna tell me." He sat beside you as you leant back against the bed frame. You tried not to catch his eye because you knew if you looked into those galaxies inside his eyes, you would start weeping. "Nothing happened Hyunjin." You mumbled, to which he scoffed silently, getting his hand up to your forehead to check your temperature. It was normal, thankfully you didn't have a fever. "Y/n" he faced you and out his hand on yours. "You know you can tell me right? I'm here for you and I'm worried. Please tell me what happened." It all happened so quickly. You looked into his eyes, taking in the stars inside of them, and you couldn't hold it back anymore as you burst out crying. Hyunjin was quick to hug you, holding your head gently as you buried yourself deeper in his chest, staining his grey shirt. His heart was breaking into a milion pieces, seeing his universe crying out her planets from her eyes. He shushed you from time to time, to make sure you don't become weak from crying.
"Y/N hey hey." He held you head in his hands, cupping your cheeks. "What's wrong? Just one word. Tell me one word. I beg you." You sniffled slightly and looked up at him, stopping you're tears slowly. You felt guilty, for him coming to you. Why should he? He's a human like you and he has responsibilities too and he should tend to them, not you. "Hyunjin, you should go. Y-you have S-Seungmin's party to attend. I'll be fine." Hyunjin knew how much you rejected being taken care of. Care was was word which simply never existed in your dictionary, courtesy to your past.
"Y/N-" "No Hyunjin!" You lashed out at him, tears brewing again in your eyes. Hyunjin now understood why the sunflowers outside had bowed to him, and why the aura was grey today. You had bottled up your feelings again, and one single word from a person of your past, was enough to break you. "I don't want help I don't need it! Just leave me alone! I don't want to be around you!" You panted a bit after shouting all that, your chest feeling heavy, not from the weight of your exhaustion, but from the weight of the entire world around you "Get out. Now."
The next few days, you came back to work, you avoided Hyunjin. You couldn't bear to look at his face, knowing that the stars in your eyes will collapse again if you do. You both worked in complete silence, with Hyunjin silently putting the completed illustrations in your desk, whenever you left to go to the bathroom. You now left at 9 am, instead of your usual 10 am along with Hyunjin. Your americanos seemed even more bitter now that you had no one to share your memories with. Every song in the world sounded like the same mundane melody now, chords repeating over and over again.
But Aphrodite always have something in plan, for souls like yours and Hyunjin's.
Hyunjin had been comforted by his friends for a week now. Every week, he would turn up at either Felix or Chan's house and cry to them. It broke their hearts to see their dearest friend weep and sob over you. You, on the other hand, would sometimes turn up to Minho, drinking his americano and venting your feelings, while he silently grilled his meat and put it on your plate. What you didn't know was that Hyunjin would be hiding silently behind the counter, listening to the notes of your voice talk about him. So one fine Saturday morning, he decided to do something. Something that would finally satisfy Aphrodite, and make her drop her roses down to earth to celebrate.
"Y/N." He called your name as you focused on your most recent article. "Y/N." He said again, when you didn't respond. "Y/N for Pete's sake, talk to me!" He basically shouted at you. You were staying back late tonight, courtesy to the hundreds of things you had to edit, due to your numerous amount of holidays. "Not now Hyunjin. I have to edit this." You spoke sternly, abandoning the fun filled voice you usually used when you were with him.
Hyunjin frowned at you, this time an actual frown, not like the playful ones he did when you would steal his meat from his plate. He was angry. He was angry at the world and at your mind for not treating you well. He was angry at your past, for making you believe that you were unworthy of love. He was furious and he would take it out right now, when no one except for you two were in the office building.
"Y/N listen to me!" He shouted, making you startled. You had gotten up from your seat and now you were cowering against a wall. You had never seen Hyunjin like this before, eyes narrowed and lips closed, burning anger seeping through them.
"Y/N you are quite possibly the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my stupid life. The way you walk the way you talk, everything about you is so amazing! It's so magnificent to me, how everyday you would explain the meaning behind a song, with your eyes all widened and your mouth moving fast! And it hurts me. It hurts me so much to see you like this, thinking that you are unworthy of love." His words were hitting you like bowling balls. "When you told me about your past, you know what I felt? I felt anger. True anger for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life, I wanted to burn down this entire world for a person. I was also so relieved that you trusted me enough to tell me about something like this. You really think I can't see the scars on your wrist through your foundation?" The scars on your wrist. How did he know about that? "Hyunjin-" you breathed out, crystals forming in your eyes again. "Y/N it breaks me. It breaks me so much to have a person like you in my life and not love them. I love you more than you can imagine. So why won't you accept it?"
"Because I can't!" The words spilled from your mouth like water spilling from a waterfall. "I can't Hyunjin! I don't know what love feels like! I never did! An-and when you came into my life and introduce me to all these amazing people, I felt so happy! For the first time in this dumb thing I call my life I felt happy. And I hated it! I hated the way Felix's eyes would light up every time he saw me. I hated the way Chan would always check up on me, making sure I don't overwork myself. I hated the way Minho would treat me like his own family, making sure I got the biggest portions of meat." Everything that you had kept hidden in that crack of your soul came running out. "I hated the way Jeongin looks up to me, telling me he admires the way I work! And you know what I hate the most out of all? I hate you! I hate the way you care so much for me and my stupid brain can't see it! The way you draw little cartoons on my americanos, the way you talk to me as if you were talking to a gentle lamb! I hate it Hyunjin! I hate myself for not seeing how much you love me! And I hate that I can't return the favour!"
Your knees gave way and you collapsed on the floor, sobbing your eyes out. Hyunjin was quick to kneel down next to you, hands searching for yours. Both of you looked into each other's eyes, seeing your entire universe's inside of them. You need love. You needed love to exist. And Hyunjin was there just to do that.
He leaned closer to you, eyes not leaving yours. He knew he had to do it now. Now or never right? Hyunjin, cupped your cheek with his left hand, right one still squeezing yours, and kissed you. He kissed you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you as if you were the reincarnation of his last lover. He kissed you as if he had been wanting to kiss you for the last fifteen years. He kissed you, and you kissed him back. Your lips moved in sync with his, not moving away, hands wrapped safely around each other, both of you shielded from whatever the world was planning next. Time moved slowly again, as if the spinners of time had abandoned their looms to come watch you two.
And somewhere in the clouds, Aphrodite smiled, knowing that her mission was complete, and that two loveless souls had finally reunited, mending each other's cracks, slowly but surely.
Epilouge
"Hyunjin! We're going to be late! Hurry your ass!" You called out to your boyfriend of five years, as you waited by the door, bag clutched in hand, and white sundress flowing softly. The ash coloured cat you had both adopted, rubbed against your legs, purring and licking herself. Hyunjin had organised a 'special' date today, taking you to one of your most favourite places, a meadow by the beach, where you used to spend your days. It was already late in tbe evening, when Hyunjin finally came down from the steps of your house, still fixing his hair. "Alright Miss Universe, stop fixing your hair and come on!" You said, causing him to giggle, as both of you got in the car and drove off towards the sunset.
"God I love this place so much." You stretched your arms as you watched the dying sun, collapse into the ocean. "More than me?" Hyunjin pouted, as you slapped his chest playfully. "Oh god are those Minho's Macarons? These things are drugs to me." Both of you took a Macaron each, and raised them in the air, as if to make a toast. "Well, to our five year anniversary." Hyunjin toasted while you said 'hear hear!'.
"Y/N, I have a gift for you." You both had eaten all your food and we're slightly leaning against a tree, wrapped in each other's warmth. "What is it Hyun?" Hyunjin pulled out a paper from his pocket. A link sticky note. With Purple glitter pen scribbled on it.
Marry me Y/N?
"I thought I should do it in the way we first talked to each other. You know to make it more roma-" Hyunjin didn't get to complete his sentence, as you threw yourself around him, kissing him on his lips, as if you didn't kiss him every single day.
And Aphrodite couldn't stop giggling and smiling, knowing that now, love existed. And you? Oh you loved the existence of love.
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jakeyt · 2 months
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Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 1 of 2)
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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; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; EMDR therapy; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; baby talk galore; pregnancy hormones (. . .but just wait for part 2 lol); reader continues being sad while she checks Jake out... but now we see jake being sad while he checks reader out lol; mild description of oral sex (m! receiving) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter Word Count: 27.4k+
a/n: hi, loves :) i am sorry for the wait! won't go into detail, but life is a mf beast rn, and i'm rolling w it the best i can. this is a hobby. and while it does take up the majority of my free time, it is also not my main job! so, please be patient as life isn’t easy!
without further ado, here is chapter 10, pt 1... you will get pt 2 tomorrow - it is all set and ready to upload, but i must let the anticipation rise after pt 1. ;)
part 1 includes a hell-ton of stuff that i've been waiting to write - and been waiting for you to read! eek! this chapter is the beginning of a ~new chapter~ in everyone's lives... so, strap in <3 things are about to get real interesting......
as usual, thank you to my lovely sister @joshym for being my encourager and for aiding in expanding on ideas when i feel stuck as hell lol i love you more than words can properly articulate <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (i listen to it nonstop while i write this story.... all of the songs are pertinent to the plot and assist in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-🌼🌼🌼-
"Conscience and covetousness are never to be reconciled; like fire and water they always destroy each other, according to the predominancy of the element."
-Jeremy Collier
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 17, 2022
After several moments of standing there, you started to feel very naked under Jake’s stare. 
The realization that you were still butt-fucking-naked under your towel had you wanting to escape the entire situation. It added one more reason why you wanted to hide in your room for all of eternity.
You didn’t know how to process what had just happened. . . All you knew was that any idea of a nice talk where you revealed the truth to him. . . Was gone. 
He knew now. And you were freaking the fuck out. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked. 
I really just wanted to hear her say it. 
During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards. And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made it more. 
I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. Let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel. 
She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel. I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly. 
And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed. 
Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish our baby. 
Our baby.
I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when she— when I. . . God.
How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now? God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day in the kitchen. 
The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it. But she hadn't fucking stopped . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her. 
I’d let her become more in my life. I thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along. 
I’d never wanted her to leave. But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument. 
And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart. There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. Knew that she didn’t think she deserved happiness or some shit. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew when she refused to acknowledge the truth. 
The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— and then she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . The words had fallen from my lips without any hint of question. Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment. I thought about the words everyday for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day. 
Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room that night. She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. Wait— not— no. The night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used protection. Was that when—?
The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!
I ran a hand through my hair a couple of times, the other one still holding my keys. I  needed to do something with both of my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divets in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.
I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never wanted to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . . 
There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts. Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters. All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it. 
How long had she—? How far along was—?
And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . . Fuck! 
“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head. 
I didn’t look at her. How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.
“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just stand here and—.” I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess around my hot face when I let my eyes pierce hers. 
But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs suddenly wracking her were unexpected. It hurt my heart to stand there and watch her like that. 
But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck. 
As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed look of pity. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this. I was the one just finding out. Not her.
“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”
“Questions, I know,” she finished, walking a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her. 
The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her. 
But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions. 
“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers. 
She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”
“Both.”
“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil. 
I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight. 
When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.
“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.” 
She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . . I resisted, focusing on her eyes. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty. . . 
After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months along,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”
Three months.
“And how long have you known?”
“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”
I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer. 
“When did Josh find out?” 
Her jaw flexed as her fists bunched up; eyebrows, drawn together as she glanced down briefly, her eyes snapping back to mine. “Why the fuck is that important right now?”
Oh, she wanted to get angry? Okay.
“Seriously?” I said, my tone sharp as I pointed a finger at her. “You telling my brother about my baby before me is pretty fucking disheartening. Especially when I — fuck. You know why it’s important.”
“I’m sorry. . . I’m stuck on something you said. . . When you called it your baby,” she leveled, stepping toward me once. I didn’t move, only stood taller and sighed deeply, nostrils flared. “Please, tell me more. About how you’re the one who had to find out all by herself. And if you’re the one who had to find out all by herself, you’re probably also the one who’s going to have to stretch her body out to carry this baby for the next six months,” her voice rose with every word she spoke. She sighed, a smile shaking on her lips, yet lacking any positive emotion. “I must’ve fucking forgotten.”
All I could do was stare at her; because, in spite of all of that truth, I was still angry with her. She’d twisted my words. She knew what I fucking meant. 
She just wanted an opportunity to pin something on me in her moment of insecurity. 
It was definitely something she would do in a state of upset. Hell, it was something I would do. Without a thought. I was known for it. Could I be upset with her for doing the same thing? Dammit. I just felt conflicted as hell — didn’t know how to feel about it all. 
I was happy. Really. Truly. Completely over the moon ecstatic at getting to be a father. I just— I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of it. All of the information, the reality of my life. . . It wasn’t sinking in worth shit. Though, at the same time, it felt so incredibly real. 
On the same hand, I also felt completely betrayed to not know a damned thing until this moment. It was fine that she waited to tell me. No question about that. But telling Josh before me still pissed me the fuck off. . . And it would until she understood why it made me so angry. 
She’d confided in him about the baby I helped her make. When she hadn’t even told me. Probably hadn’t even been planning on telling me anytime fucking soon. Because of her determination to keep me out of the loop when it came to our child, I’d had to find out on my own. By accident. 
All because I was a motherfucking identical twin. What were the chances of that shit?
I didn’t get to have a moment of joy at the thought of being a father because I was too busy reading how grateful she was for Josh amidst this pregnancy. All I could think about was how she hadn’t been grateful for me. Hadn’t been grateful enough to keep me in her life. 
She’d pushed me out. But not Josh. Definitely not Josh. She would never say to Josh what she said to me in the kitchen.
I couldn’t take it.
Unable to control my actions, I started acting before thinking. . . Not even looking at her, I focused only on the keys in my hand, still waiting for me to go somewhere. I had to go somewhere. Had to get the fuck out of the apartment that had brought me both my greatest days and my most heartbreaking. 
And this day was officially both.
Pulling the door open without even thinking about it, seeing through blurred tunnel vision, I heard her say my name, once again choking on sobs behind me. Even after I closed the door, she continued to wail my name. 
My heart was longing to stay back with her. Begging me to stay where I knew I needed to. The guilt was heavy. Baby or not, my heart yearned for the woman. Even when I shouldn’t want her, I did. And I really shouldn’t after what she’d said in the kitchen.
I knew it was a dick move to leave. I knew it. But I had to. Couldn’t explain it. So, with blurred vision and hearing her repeat my name and begging me not to leave, I continued down the cemented, outdoor hallway and to the stairs. 
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
Gone. Found out about it and then he was just. . . gone. 
You stood there long enough to let him walk back through the door. Until he might’ve come back, ready to make things right.
You waited too long. But when you started getting a chill from standing there in your towel, you were suddenly ready to put some clothes on. Ready to hide. Maybe Jake had the right idea to run away.
In the case he didn’t come back tonight, you didn’t want to be waiting for him all night, getting your hopes up. . . only to have them crushed.
Your heart was already burning in your chest, all the way down to the pit of your stomach, at the worry of him not returning.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You firmly decided on leaving for a bit. Follow his lead. You went about your business to get your ass out of your home before it swallowed you whole in your fears and worries of Jake.
But. . . driving sounded stupid as hell. You wouldn’t have been able to see past the clouds of tears in your eyes to safely arrive at your destination. And, as sad as you were, you weren’t sad enough to want to wreck your car. The baby’s life was the first you considered. But–then. . . you realized you had a burning desire to keep going for you, too. . . despite Jake leaving, you wanted to keep going. The sadness hadn’t completely overtaken you.
So, you’d wisely decided to schedule an Uber. And while you waited, you hastily pulled your cute gray sweatsuit (thank you, TikTok shop) onto your body as quickly as you could, making sure to put on a sports bra underneath to hold your boobs in place. They continued to hurt like hell. You really needed to get a maternity bra.
And then, after you’d fed Stevie, you waited for the Uber and prayed that it would show up before Jake got back home. 
Well. . .if he came back home tonight. It was very bold of you to just assume he would. Why would he want to return? Your own mother left you because you weren’t worth anything. And tonight, Jake had made it perfectly clear he felt the same way your mom had.
The Uber showed up in no time. . .sooner than you’d scheduled for it to arrive. 
As the black Toyota Solara finally came into view, you wiped your tears for the millionth time since Jake had left. The sobs that wracked your chest hadn’t stopped painting your cheeks since he’d walked out the door. Because, well, he had left you. The one person you wanted with you for this had left when you needed him most.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Applebee’s. The sign to the restaurant had you feeling the urge to do happy dance, even amidst your raging emotions. But you concealed it for the sake of your Uber driver.
For the past few days, you’d been craving their alfredo specifically. The fear of ruining it like you’d ruined so many other foods, had kept you from DoorDashing it. 
But tonight? Tonight you’d decided to treat yourself, and instead of being scared that you’d throw it all up, you took the chance. Thus, scheduling the Uber to drive you to fucking Applebee’s. Of all places.
You’d been sitting for probably five minutes at a booth (comfortably, but definitely lonely), when the rain started pouring down outside your booth’s window. 
And at approximately the same time, you noticed the large group of men around your age at the bar, backwards baseball caps and muscles presumably only huge from steroids. They were screaming at the top of their lungs as a football game droned on on the TV in front of them.
The rain, the jocks. . . made you long for your bed immediately. . . Made you wish you would have just stayed home to wallow for the sole opportunity of letting the thunder lull you to a (much needed) restful sleep. Though, based on the night’s events, you weren’t sure how peaceful that slumber would actually be. Or how quickly it would come.
Thankfully, the prospect of going home came as soon as you started longing for it. The young waitress came by to ask for your drink order, but you went ahead and ordered the alfredo you’d been craving – along with the soft pretzels and cheese which automatically stood out to you when you’d opened the menu. 
Now all you were hoping was that you wouldn’t end up vomiting your guts up over your toilet later. Or worse, all over an Uber driver. You were taking a chance. This was the first time you’d eaten out since starting your new journey of eating and nausea meds. 
Speaking of, you promptly popped a PregEase in your mouth, directly from the stash in your belt bag slung across your chest.
You were thankful for the meds, but at the moment, you were actually totally fine with risking it. The one reason being: food was working as a pretty fantastic distraction from your problems for the time being. So. . . you were letting it do its job.
When the waitress brought your water out to you, your phone started buzzing and ringing in your belt bag, succeeding in interrupting you thanking her. The reverberations felt so good against your boobs (don’t fucking judge); at this point, you were convinced your chest was bound to feel like two heavy bags of tiny nails, for the rest of your life. Nothing brought them relief, and the phone felt surprisingly nice.
She kindly smiled, bringing your attention back to her from your boobs, saying she'd be back soon with your appetizer. You responded with a similar smile to hers and went about balancing all of the shit in your belt bag to get your phone out. 
You figured it was probably Elsie. She was the one most likely to be calling you at this time of night. She was known for using the late hour to openly vent to you about her day. Though, since Josh, the calls had become fewer and fewer. 
Finally getting the phone out and peeking at the screen, you were suddenly wishing it was Elsie. Because, the name staring back at you was making your tummy feel like swirling electricity. 
The process of getting your phone out had taken long enough, though, that you’d missed the call completely. You weren’t sure if it was a bullet dodged or a missed opportunity you were instantaneously longing to happen again.
You didn’t have to contemplate it for too long before his name was lighting up your screen again. And it was admittedly weird seeing his name with your current lockscreen wallpaper. . . A couple days ago, you’d impulsively taken a picture of the sonogram picture from your first appointment and made it your wallpaper. 
What if you’d accidentally left your phone where he could find it? Damn. Were you wanting him to find out on his own? Was that going to be your pussy ass way of telling him? Or were you just being impulsive and dumb?
Once again, the call went to voicemail. Except, there wasn’t time for him to leave one with how quickly he was calling you back.
Goddamn, y/n. Answer, your inner encourager forced you impatiently.
Swallowing thickly, you went to slide your finger over to answer. Your body was swimming with an increasing amount of anxiety. But, you answered it.
“Hello?” You spoke faintly, your belly flip flopping. 
He’s probably calling to say he’s packing his shit and moving out.
“Where are you?!” He asked, his voice ragged and worried. Uneven with what could only be fear. “I got home and you weren’t here and I’m freaking the fuck out. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you with someone?”
Wait. What? Why was he scared?
For some reason, you wanted to be obtuse and not answer his questions. Apparently you were just feeling like an asshole tonight. You didn’t know. You were just tired as hell and didn’t know how to approach him. You wanted to tell him. But, you didn’t.
“I’m fine. I’m just not home.”
“Y/n. Fucking duh. I just told you I’m here,” he replied, impatient but still concerned. “Where are you?”
“What if I don’t want to tell you?” Lie.
He sighed. You could imagine him running a hand across his forehead. His eyes were most likely closed, out of patience. Damn. You’d gotten real used to stressing him out if you could guess the motions.
“Then don’t, I guess,” he relented, voice tense and irritated. “Can you just let me know you’re safe?”
As if on cue, the guys at the bar went ballistic. It made you tense up and roll your eyes at the disruption they were causing to the entire restaurant. But, specifically how they were shouting in the middle of you talking to Jake.  
“Are you at a party?” He gaped, sounding utterly shocked.
Yet again, the men started screaming at the top of their lungs, proceeding to yell a variation of the words Yes! and go-go-go-go!, plus a bunch of other shit you couldn’t understand.
You couldn’t help the growl that came from your mouth, your eyes slowly closing in annoyance. “No, Jacob. Do you really think I’d be at a party?”
“Jesus, sorry,” he apologized. He let out a deep sigh, causing the speaker to rattle a little into your ear. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m worried about you.”
Worried about–? What?
Lay off of him, y/n. You were crying buckets before you left home because you wanted him so badly. Come on. You know he is not the cause of the football fuckers going ham. Don’t take it out on him.
You let out a giant sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Tried to tune out the men to your left. Because Jake. Jake was on the phone. And it didn’t take rocket science to know that you really wanted to see him. Quite frankly, you felt the need to see him. 
But. . .did he want to see you? Or was he just being kind? Only worried about you because he was a decent human being? With no underlying, deeper meaning other than you being pregnant and alone? Did it make you weak if you told him where you were? 
Who cares? Just tell him.
“I’m at Applebee’s,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead before placing the same hand over your round belly to trace shapes against it. 
“Are you with someone?” He asked, tone smooth with a slight edge behind it.
“No, Jake,” you grumbled. Why did he care?
“Do you want me there?” He questioned apprehensively, sounding like it was what he wanted.
But why? He’d left you.
“Do you want to be here?”
“Yes–well,” he paused. “Only if you want me there.”
“Do you think I want you here?”
Why the game of 20 Questions, y/n? His night has already been hard enough.
You knew why. You were avoiding the impending confrontation of seeing him again. Just as much as you did want to see him, you were putting it off because you were nervous. There was no telling what would be said. Would he leave again? Would he say he didn’t want to be in the child’s life? Did it even matter?
“Yes,” he softly responded, waiting for you to confirm or deny.
He was right. And he’d unintentionally answered both of your questions. Yes, it mattered and yes, you wanted him here.
So, after telling him which Applebee’s you were at, he told you he’d be there soon and to stay put before he hung up. The sloppy jocks suddenly started cheering again, clapping each other’s backs. Though, in spite of them, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that swept over your lips.
He was coming for you.
-🌼🌼🌼-
There were about ten minutes between your apartment and Applebee’s, so you waited. 
Just ten minutes. But time crawled.
You were equal parts excited and terrified to see him. The only plausible solution to ease you while you waited, was to watch the door. Your brain was tripping over questions and curiosities all based around him, but just like you’d tried to do all night, you ignored them. Just watched. the. door. 
In reality, you really didn’t have much time to think about a whole lot before Jake was walking through the doors.  Not wearing a rain jacket (or a jacket of any sort) to cover him from the rain. . . which meant he was soaking. wet.
And oh no no no no. . . seeing him like that was not good for your baby hormones. Fuck. Why hadn’t he grabbed one before he left the apartment?!
He was going to catch a cold.
To be totally truthful, you were quite happy he hadn’t put one on. . . Reason being, you could see every single droplet that dripped from his hair. . .that touched his skin. You watched each one fall from the long strands of his wavy locks. Some dripped one-by-one, down the thick column of his neck. And others, directly to the tanned skin of his chest. . . Some even trailing to a hidden place underneath his shirt. . .
He was wearing a light blue button down, the material completely stained from the heavy, unrelenting downpour. You wanted to just peel it off of him–take care of him. You wanted to remove each piece of clothing, carefully dry every part of his body. . .
Not even meaning to, you caught yourself biting your lower lip before soothing it with a lick of your lips. . . 
Okay, y/n. Biting and licking your lips? Seriously?! Stop.
You turned around, pinching your eyes shut. Honestly, ogling over him in this very public space was not ideal. Shouldn’t have been ogling him at all. He wasn’t yours. But dammit your body couldn’t help but heat in his presence. 
Though, the atmosphere of the restaurant did not match your mood at all. In addition to the hoard of men with their beer, the place had become busier – bustling with groups of women and men alike. 
The football guys were still the worst part. You were getting sick of them–on your last nerve.
The continuous hooting and hollering that emitted from the men was obnoxious at best. Stereotypical men. In their natural habitat. They hadn’t stopped acting like heathens during the game and whooped loudly at every Republican ad that played during the commercial breaks. . . Beer bottles repeatedly clanged against each other. You were coming to realize there was zero chance of them quieting down. 
And suddenly it dawned on you that the idea of having to talk to Jake in an Applebee’s, during a (presumably important) football game, sounded dreadful. Having white college men as background noise was the last thing you wanted.
You looked back over towards the door, anxious to set eyes on a real man. Only to find he was finally making his way to you. His shoulders, broad, but shaking and shivering. He kept his arms tightly at his sides, hands in pockets and arms flexing with the shivers, beneath the thin material of his button down. 
You didn’t look too long, though. . . Turned back around — didn’t want to stare long enough for him to catch you. You shook your thoughts away. And for the first time since you’d sat down, the young, drunken men were slightly welcomed as they helped to keep you nailed down to the present with their ludicrous screams. 
Before you knew it, his body came into your view, walking down the small aisle to your table. God, he was handsome. Even with flushed cheeks and wet hair sticking to his face, he was beautiful. 
When Jake finally slid into the booth, he was still shaking off his chill. He cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed harshly into them before clapping and rubbing them together under the table. You knew you were in a daze watching him and you’d stay that way if you didn’t try to speak soon.
“Are you trying to catch a fucking cold?” You hastily questioned him, raising your eyebrow for emphasis. 
He stilled momentarily, setting a steady glare your way. “I rushed here. I didn’t think about grabbing one before just focusing on getting here.”
“Why the rush? You knew I was safe.”
“I was anxious to see you.”
Your heart leapt into your throat. So anxious to not grab a cover for this rainstorm? Why? 
“But you’re the one who left me,” you responded hesitantly after taking a minute to consider his words.
Suddenly, he stopped shaking. He cast his eyes down, sweeping over the table as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. 
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he muttered before glancing up at you with eyes that read regret. “It was not the right decision. I know that and I’m so sorry. But I was just feeling a shit ton of emotions and I— I didn’t know what else—.”
“To do. I know,” you finished for him, nodding along to remind him he’d already mentioned that. “That’s not a valid excuse.”
He looked about ready to agree, but then his brows wrinkled and he tilted his head. He looked unsure. “I’m not sure if it’s valid or not, but it’s definitely not an excuse. I quite honestly didn’t know how the fuck to react, so that’s how I chose to feel it. Just needed to leave and refresh by—.”
“By fucking Maya?” You bit back.
What–?
Shit. Where the hell did those words come from? You hadn’t even. . . fuckfuckfuck. Nothing like fully exposing feelings you harbored.
“Excuse me?” He clipped back, voice alternating to a deeper tone. Aggravated. 
You stuttered out a reply the best you could. “I–I was– I didn’t mean to–,” you bowed your head, ashamed of yourself. “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”
Really, you were very sorry. It was uncalled for. 
His response was unexpected. “Don’t be sorry,” he softly said, sighing. Your eyes drew up, waiting to hear what else he had to say. You were not expecting him to reassure you. If you were in his shoes, you’d be appalled. He was rubbing his forehead when he tiredly responded, “Emotions are high right now.”
“Yeah, I guess. Except. . . I don’t really have a reason to be a bitch because I’ve already dealt with this,” you explained, motioning to your belly at the word this. “I’ve accepted it and I need to just. . . calm down.”
He snorted a laugh, brushing the tip of his nose with his pointer finger. The black hair-tie wrapped around his middle finger flashed into view. “Y/n, honey,” he started. But–you were slightly incoherent. Honey? What the fu–? “You’ve always been emotional. In all situations. No matter what,” he blew out a breath, a shiver running up his spine. He was drying off, slowly but surely. “I, of all people, would know.”
That last bit distracted you momentarily from him calling you a pet name. A sweet one at that. But. . . you weren’t focused on that. Rather, you were reeling at the fact that he’d just essentially made mention of the fact that he was the victim of you exposing your raw emotional state.
All you could think about— as you saw a glimpse of hurt flash over his brown eyes, him no doubt thinking of the same thing—was the kitchen. That blessed day in the kitchen where you’d gone full blast on him.
Avert avert avert.
You coughed, trying your best to clear the air. “I know it was probably necessary for you to go—leave. . . To think somewhere else, but . . . it did just suck for you to leave,” you admitted shyly. “It wasn’t an ideal time to be alone. Although. . .,” you sighed, watching his face as he concentrated on you. “I guess I brought it on myself. I should have told you sooner.”
“I am curious. . . Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was afraid of that happening,” you truly stated, waving your hand towards him. “I was afraid of you . . . leaving or something that would hurt like hell. . .”
He nodded, pursing his lips as he considered it. “I understand that,” he caught your eyes, his own, soft. Then, suddenly vulnerable. “But. . . wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me first? And wasn’t it maybe more daunting to tell Josh? I mean you had to tell him about–,” he motioned between you two. You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks. Then, he looked curious, brow quirked. “Wait. . . does he even know that it’s mine?”
“Yes, he does,” you confirmed with a barely-there grin. 
He looked like he wanted to ask you something else, but ended up shaking his head and looking down at his lap, his hands moving to twiddle beneath the table before he did. 
“You’re partially right. It would have made more sense to tell you first,” you agreed partially with his earlier statement, watching him. “But I’m not sure it would have been easier. . . there are factors in the way–between us. . . people that don’t deserve to have their lives changed.”
When he looked up from where he’d been watching his hands move, his eyes met yours. You shared a look, and you knew he understood why it would have been difficult. He knew the people–the person–you were referring to. 
“I see your point. But. . .,” he cleared his throat. “It’s just me. No matter what’s changed between us. . . I’m still me. And this particular situation only concerns you, me, and the baby. No one else,” he clarified. “So, just because she’s in the picture now. . . it doesn’t mean you need to keep things from me.”
She's in the picture now. . . Stupidly, those words broke your heart.
The waitress was suddenly at the table with your food. All of it. Pretzel sticks, cheese, and your main course. She set your order on the table, but you knew you didn’t want to be here much longer. Not when you heard the hollering begin again towards the bar. You were also growing increasingly more tired by the second. 
“Can I get the alfredo to go?” You asked hopefully. 
“Sure! You want me to bring boxes for the rest, too?” Her large gray eyes were wide and bright with her seemingly innocent youth. “Just in case.”
“Yeah,” you grinned, leaning your arms on the table. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
She had nodded and was beginning to walk off when she noticed Jake sitting with you. When she saw him, her eyes bugged out and she stopped in her tracks before continuing any further.
“Wait–,” she started, her brow lifting. “Are you. . . in a band?”
His eyes darted to yours and then back to hers before he answered with a wide grin. “Yeah, actually,” he replied. “I am. It’s called–.”
“I know what it’s called!” She shrieked, her face lighting up instantaneously. “My friends and I love you guys. We’ve been to a few of your shows. We even saw you at the festival and got your demo CD! We went just for you guys,” she gushed, not pausing for more than a second. “I was so excited when I started to see your posters all over,” she rushed out, squealing a little. “We’re so excited for your shows coming up!”
His grin loosened, his cheeks flushing along with hers. “Well, thanks for coming to see us when we play,” he softly responded. “We have some other music being released soon. With a label,” he winked, glancing your way. You blushed, too, for whatever reason. What was happening in front of you? “Be on the lookout.”
The waitress’s smile took up her entire face. “Oh, we will!” She nodded enthusiastically, watching him closely for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I have to tell you. . . you’re so much hotter up close. I mean, from far away, hell yes. But right here? Oh my god.”
You decided you were definitely ready to leave. 
The guys at the bar began exploding at the football game just then, the rain was still pattering against the window, tempting you. . . and then there was the apparent fangirl who did not want to leave. . . your eyes flickered to Jake’s. He’d been watching you, waiting for a sign.
“Do you mind grabbing those boxes?” He asked politely, his smile a bit more forced now. 
And he didn’t even have to ask twice before she was nodding excitedly and racing off to get him what he wanted. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Thanks to Jake intervening and then quickly getting your food in the boxes for you, you were in his car within fifteen minutes. He’d effectively taken over the bill and paid for you, and had run to grab his car while he made you wait at the door. 
“You don’t need to be getting sick,” he’d explained, right before he covered the front of his face, beeping his car unlocked, and running to pull it up.
Your heart fluttered in your chest at the way he was tending to you. 
But before you could feel too giddy about it, you felt weird about it. You didn’t want him to suddenly like you again just because you were carrying his baby. He didn’t need to go above and beyond—you didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything. So, as soon as he’d pulled his Jeep up (and helped you up and inside of it, effectively getting himself soaked again), you got in and waited for him to get in.
As you sat, it encouraged you even more because he’d even gone the extra mile and turned on the seat heaters. He was doing too much when he didn’t need to.
He’d started driving as soon you got in, and you tried damn hard not to watch him drive. Because, you’d just learned, that for some asinine reason, your fucking baby hormones went into overdrive when you’d tried watching a soaking wet Jake behind the wheel of his car. The way he leaned back, relaxed, one arm resting on the console between you two. . .
So, in order to distract yourself, you brought up your winding trail of thought. 
“Please don’t start caring about me again just because I’m carrying your baby.”
You heard him scoff under his breath, the sound alone making your heartbeat quicken as you waited for his response. 
“Start caring about you again? What does that even—?” 
Crossing your arms under your (always sore) boobs, you sat up straighter in your seat to keep some sort of dignity as you further explained. “Jake, you’ve been distancing yourself from me for months now—and for good reason, mind you—I just don’t want you to start doing nice things just because of this situation,” you sighed, deciding to instead lace your hands across your stomach. Training your eyes on your thumbs that tapped your sweatshirt, you continued. “I don’t need you overextending yourself on my behalf.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and next time you looked up, you were already at the second to last light to the complex. Biting your lip, you contemplated what to say to break the heavy air in the car. . . you always hated when you felt like you’d said something wrong. And you knew you were very good at saying the wrong thing. 
So, you decided on an apology. “I’m sorry if something I said was wrong,” you offered, pitifully. It had been a long night. There was no way you wanted to end it with him mad at you. “Really. I just—.”
“You’re overthinking, y/n,” he promptly cut you off, making a turn to the last light. “I never stopped— I didn’t stop caring about you when we stopped—,” he blew out a breath, stopping at the red light. 
“I’m sorry I said tha—.”
“No. Don’t be sorry. You’re right; I have been distant. And, again, you were right when you said it's for good reason. It’s been for damn good fucking reason,” he clipped, letting the words sit in the air for a minute. “But just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you—.” He coughed. You could imagine he was shaking his head. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”
Your insides had officially turned to mush and you weren’t sure how to process that he still cared so deeply. But, he was right. . . Him bringing up the therapy showed his heart. . . You knew his heart. Knew how deeply he felt things. . . What you would continue to wonder was why you were something he hadn’t stopped caring about. When you’d been such a massive bitch. You weren’t worth it.
Heart beating quickly in your chest, you cleared your throat as he once again passed through a green light. The last one. You were almost home. 
Gotta wrap it up quickly.
“I’m sorry again,” you muttered. “For not telling you sooner.”
“Don’t be. It was your call to tell who you wanted first,” he sighed, turning on his right blinker to turn into the complex. “I just need to get out of my head about it—need to not let it piss me off.”
You looked out the windshield, the rain had let up. It was only sprinkling now. Taking a deep breath, you admitted to him what you knew to be true. “I really should have told you before Josh. I know that.”
Glimpsing for a millisecond from the corner of your eye, you saw his lip quirk before he looked your way at the perfect moment. Your eyes met briefly before you turned back to observe the parking lot through your window.
“Really?” He questioned warily. “Do you mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel better? Because you don’t have to do that just because I’m being a pussy abou–.”
The snort-laugh that came from you was unintentional, but you couldn’t contain it. “Jake. You aren’t being a pussy.” You turned your head to get a better look at his face now that he’d parked. His eyes waited for yours, highlighted by the fluorescent light he’d parked underneath. Right next to your Jetta. Smiling, you surely stated, “And, yes, I mean it. Truly. I know it would’ve been the right thing for me to tell you first.” 
Considering the car was still running and in park. . .it seemed he wasn’t anxious to get inside. He was content like this. . . at least that’s what you gathered from the way he’d swiveled his body to face you better from his seat. So, you continued on with honesty, while you felt brave. “I was just really scared. Scared to tell you and learn how you’d react. . . I didn’t want to disappoint you with something you really do not need to be responsible for . . .”
Then, the unthinkable happened and he was reaching over to hold your hand over the console. It was a feeling unlike any other–the feeling of his skin against yours. The comfort of his hand, the warmth, the callouses that scratched your flesh the slightest bit as he rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb. How long had it been since he’d touched you?
His voice and the squeeze he gave your hand brought you out of your daze. “Y/n. . . look at me.” You did as he said, following his soft, gravelly tone, finding his eyes with your own. “I am the furthest thing from disappointed.”
“But–,” you shook your head, your brow wrinkled as you searched his eyes. “But the way you left. How angry you were because I hadn’t told you yet–or–or before Josh. . .”
“There’s a difference between feeling plain old upsetedness and full on disappointment,” he clarified, his eyes swimming in yours. His strong hand lightly held yours, squeezing once more. “I assure you, I was never once disappointed tonight that you are having my baby.”
. . .having my baby. The words bounced around in your head. . . hearing him say those words just. . . did something to your heart.
“I’m excited about all of it. Honestly.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners with how his eyes lit up at the sentiment. “I mean, it was a lot to wrap my mind around and I still haven’t totally grasped the reality yet, but. . . I’m happy. Very happy,” he squeezed once more, still not moving his hand from wrapping the top of yours. “And I really hope you let me take responsibility as the father of the baby, because I really want to know this child. . . already matters so much to me.”
Your heart clenched at his words. . . He meant them and you knew it. Jake’s heart was arguably the most genuine, honest, exquisite you’d ever come across. So, it really didn’t take a second thought to utter your next words. “You can absolutely have the responsibilities of a father. . . if that’s what you want,” you raised your eyebrow with the word if. And at that, he’d nodded with an I do spoken quietly against the lull of the A/C. 
Though, there was one thing that he needed to know. The protective mama in you — that part of you needed to say this for your baby’s sake. He or she would not hurt like you had your whole life. 
“However,” your tone got serious, unwavering. “You can’t pull the shit with leaving like you did tonight with the baby. If you want the responsibility, you’ve gotta be sure.”
“I am,” he said, not missing a beat. “I won’t do that again.”
“I mean, you can do it to me. I can handle it. I’ve learned that that happens. . . but the baby. . . I just–.”
“I’m not leaving either of you alone in this,” he assured, leaning closer to you. Your heart skipped a beat. Due to still drying from the rain, he smelled like the Earth– fresh, sweet, real. Solid. True. “I know you won’t be alone because you have Josh and Elsie and so many other people, but. . . I want to be in this with you and the baby.”
“What about Maya?” You lightly asked, slightly confused. 
“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” he responded quickly. Too quickly. It made your chest tight and a giant rock hit the pit of your stomach. “But she will understand that I have to be there for you.”
Not trusting yourself to talk with the tears gathering in your throat, you just nodded before bowing your head to look at your little tummy. Reassurance in the sweetest, most innocent form. 
He took a deep breath, the rush of his breath, fresh from a mint he’d sucked on on the way back. “I really shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he firmly stated.
You looked up from your belly, blinking a few times to register that he was speaking so closely to you, close enough for his breath, now brushed your cheek. Not super close, but close enough. Much closer than he’d been for a while. 
He continued, “And you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for telling me on your own time. You are the one who was in charge of all of those decisions. It’s your body. Your body that’s growing the baby. . . So, it’s your right to decide things like that,” he enunciated, his intent to reassure, clear in his tone. “It just sucks a little bit for me that it was Josh, but that’s on me. . . not you. But even with all of that, I really should not have left. That gave you the opposite idea of what I wanted to give you. . . It was just a-fuckin’-lot to process all at once.”
“Yes, and you are completely entitled to believing that it was a lot–that it is a lot,” you reassured him, regretting a few of your words from earlier. “Even if you’re not the one carrying the baby, it’s going to be intense for you as the father. Maybe even more so–.”
He made a little noise of disagreement, but you just gave a quiet grin, holding up a hand.
“. . .in some senses. Especially since you can only experience it from the outside. I’m the one who is experiencing all of the changes, all of the time. I’m reminded every time I look down or touch my belly, but you don’t have that luxury every moment of the day.”
“Yeah, but it’s still more for you,” he argued.
“It’s okay, Jake,” you smiled. “I still agree. Trust me. I just wanted you to know that I understand how it might end up feeling for you. I was just afraid I made you feel like you weren’t validated in feeling overwhelmed. Leaving made sense. It’s just the worst feeling for a girl with abandonment issues,” you chanced a look down at your tummy, feeling awkward approaching so many personal feelings. It felt weird that it still felt so natural. He just brought it out in you. You quickly covered, not wanting to seem overbearing. “W-which, I can handle it–it is not on you to–”
“No, it is on me,” he seriously professed, eyes earnestly holding onto yours. “I knew about your past and I still left you. I am seriously so sorr–.”
“Jake,” you sighed his name, looking up at him again. His jaw was flexing, eyebrows turned in. “Stop apologizing,” your lips lifted in a soft smile, bringing a hand to sit on top of his. “We all do things we regret and it wouldn’t be fair for us to hold those things against each other. . . when we’ve all done thoughtless things in the heat of the moment.” At the last bit, your eyes left his to flash at your tummy.  Your hand left the top of his to delicately hold your small bump. “Example A of a ‘Heat of the Moment’ moment.”
A quiet beat passed, his face thoughtful as his eyes studied your own before he spoke. 
“I don’t regret that one though,” he said, eyes so big and so beautifully deep with emotion. 
Wetness was suddenly gathering in the corners of your eyes when you traced them over him—over his chest, tanned and exhaling so handsomely with every breath he took. You looked away from his perfect pecs, and back up to his eyes. 
“I don’t either.”
There were a few slow, nearly silent moments where all you could hear was the sound of your combined breaths with the A/C blasting against you both. Your hands still held each other, gripped each other. His hair was dry. His face was dry. And in the secret dimness of the night and the bright light of the tall lamp outside, you could see all of the delicate markings and freckles on his face. The light birthmark on the tan skin of his cheek.
Before you could think to do another ‘Heat of the Moment’ thing (weird term, but it definitely applied to you), and do something like rub the skin of his birthmark with your thumb, he was breaking eye contact, skin contact, and shutting the car off. 
“Better go inside,” he said, pausing as he’d just taken the keys out of the ignition. “It’s getting late.”
“It also might start pouring again,” you added, opening your door, trying to make conversation. 
He didn’t open your door that time, like he had at the restaurant. He just sent a quiet smile your way before getting out of his side. He did, however, wait for you to meet him at the rear bumper of the car before heading back to the apartment. You matched one another’s steps in silence. It was a bit awkward now, unlike the calm, still moment in the car. Your breaths, having combined in the shared space. . .
When you’d made it inside, he told you to go get ready for bed and that he’d feed Stevie and take care of the rest of the apartment.
“You just go to bed,” he waved you off, his expression kind. “It’s been a long night and you need rest.”
He obviously wanted to help, so you let him. Albeit, you let him do so while your heart fell a bit in your chest at your evening with him coming to an end. You hoped that there would be more times like this in the future with the baby you now both knew you shared. 
Absently, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, then nodded and gave a faint goodnight. Once you were getting into bed in a giant t-shirt to cover the bit of ass exposed at the edges of your comfortable granny panties, you heard a little knock against your cracked door. 
You waited for him to come in since the door was still cracked, but he didn’t.
“Yeah?” You called, brows drawn in.
He opened the white paneled door just enough to show him at the threshold of your room. His hand was on the knob while he leaned with the opposite forearm against the doorframe. You did very well at not blatantly checking him out. That was something to be proud of. 
Though, you couldn’t be too proud, because you knew it was just because your tiredness had hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been impossible to ignore as soon as you’d felt the cool, soft cotton of the gray oversized t-shirt touch your skin. 
Your blinking was becoming slower and slower by the second. But your eyes perked up a little when he cleared his throat, suddenly interested in anything he had to say. Even if it was something as simple as Stevie not being hungry. Just wanted to hear his voice once more before going to bed.
And you got exactly that as his eyes swept over your face briefly, deep in thought. “I really, genuinely do want to help however I can with the baby stuff—however you want me or need me. I want to help you because it means I’m helping the baby. Our baby.”
Okay, the next time he referred to the baby being his, you were sure your heart was going to beat completely out of your chest. It did things to you.
“Alright,” you responded tiredly, a slight blush warmed your cheeks. “That sounds good.”
When you loudly yawned, he nodded with a quiet grin fitting his handsome features. He began to shut the door, but just before he could, he opened it once more.
“I–,” he cleared his throat. Your stomach felt airy and light at the possibility of what he might say. You didn’t know what to expect, but him talking to you was just. . . exactly what you needed. “I took a drive and listened to music, by the way.” 
You blinked, brow furrowed with confusion. “. . .What?” 
“When I left tonight. I just drove around and listened to music,” he said, his amber-brown eyes, so earnest. “Cleared my head with music.”
“Why are you telling–?” You sleepily wondered aloud.
“I. . . didn’t go see anyone,” he elaborated. “Just wanted you to know that. Also, I promise I won’t tell anyone–including Maya– until you’re ready.” 
“Okay,” you squeaked, unsure of what else to say.
After observing each other for just a few moments after he’d spoken, he suddenly dipped out with a quick ‘Goodnight.’
The thunderstorm picked up again right after he’d left you, Stevie racing in, all frazzled, with her tail fluffed out at the sounds of the storm. The sleep that threatened to cloud your vision was a most welcome friend as you let yourself become cozy under your soft, high thread count sheets and fluffy, featherlight duvet. Your head was nestled against the pillow, Stevie snuggled against your ankles, purring. And your brain was just wandering off to slumberland when you understood why he’d said what he did about not being with anyone. . . it finally clicked. 
He’d wanted you to know he hadn’t been with Maya like you’d assumed. Like you’d brashly accused him of at Applebee’s.
. . .But why did he care to tell you? 
-🌼🌼🌼-
The next morning, you sat at the counter with a book about pregnancy, taking notes. It was the end of your new morning routine. 
You didn’t have class or work for the day, so you were enjoying some much needed down time. The idea that you’d be able to take countless naps literally made goosebumps rise on your skin. 
“Hey.”
And now you had even more goosebumps erupting at the sound of his raspy voice. 
“Morning,” you replied, highlighting a line in your book about staying ‘physically active’ during pregnancy. 
“Morning. You feeling okay?”
“Mhm. . .” you replied, halfway present and barely looking up from the page and the sticky you were jotting a note onto.
“Taking notes?”
“So many,” you giggled, your eyes finally looking up to find him dressed and ready for the day at the Keurig, preparing a cup of coffee. “All the time, I’m doing research.”
“I believe it,” he replied, clicking his K-cup in the holder. The hot drink was trickling into his mug when he looked at you in question. “Based on your research, can you have caffeine? Could I make you a coffee or something?”
“Um, not the safest in high amounts,” you pondered, flipping to the page where you’d just read about that a few days ago and quoted the book for him. “‘Drinking caffeine during pregnancy has some major health risks. The caffeine gets digested much slower and goes through the placenta into your baby’s bloodstream,’” you droned, feeling obnoxious with the long response. 
“Interesting. Anything else it says about it?”
You raised a brow and gave him an ‘mhm’ before looking at the page again. “‘This means that the caffeine side effects of a racing heart rate, high blood pressure, and a stimulated nervous system affect you and your baby. The result is a higher chance of miscarriage. Even small amounts have been known to cause a 13% increase in low birth weight for your newborn,’” you glanced up, he was rubbing his chin, listening to every word. So, you finished out the paragraph. “‘Try switching to a naturally decaffeinated herbal tea, but do consult your doctor or midwife as certain herbs can cause premature labor.’”
“Have you tried any herbal tea?”
You made a gagging motion. Herbal tea honestly did not strike your fancy at this stage in your life. “The baby says herbal tea sounds disgusting,” you joked. He huffed a laugh with you as you finished your thought. “I’m looking into smoothies to start the day. I’m actually going to try making a few today since I’m home all day.”
“Cool. Just thought I’d offer,” he finished. 
Or so you thought.
After getting his coffee off the Keurig, he made his way around the counter to sit in the barstool next to you. Heat washed over your face at his closeness.
“Speaking of doctor or midwife. . . which are you going with?”
“Doctor,” you answered. “Her name is Dr. Rose. Sweet, middle aged, Southern lady.”
“Oh, you’ve had your first appointment?” He asked, sounding curious and a little apprehensive. 
“Yeah. . . First one last week.”
“Oh,” he replied, sounding just a little discouraged. But he tried to cover it. “Cool. How did it go? Did you have to go alone?”
“Mhm,” you said, suddenly digging into a page and very seriously taking notes on a sticky note about random ass shit you could care less about. “Josh went. It went well.”
He hummed, not responding right away. And you knew why. 
You really did feel guilty now that you’d taken Josh to your first appointment and not Jake. He was the baby’s father, after all. And thinking about how he’d have reacted to seeing the baby with you, both of you, for the first time. . . You were suddenly very downcast as you thought of the missed opportunity. 
“But you can come to the rest of them with me,” you rushed out, suddenly looking up at him as you said so. His eyes were huge as he watched you be neurotic. God, you were annoying. “If–if you want. I don’t want to pressure you.”
“O–of course. Yes,” he stuttered. “You tell me when and I’ll be there. Every single one.”
You realized he sounded eager and thrilled, not frightened like you feared. 
“Okay,” you acknowledged, slightly breathless. 
Once again, you were in the same situation as you had been last night. He was, once more, so close. Right there. Your shared breathing, the only sound comprehensible to your ears in the calm, quiet of the morning. His breath, smelling of coffee, should have turned you off. . . but it didn’t not at all. And the way he went to lick his lips, just once– his eyes, not leaving yours. . . 
Then, he was jolted back to reality, blinking furiously. 
“I’ve, um, gotta go run some errands and then I have a meeting with the label,” he suddenly said, rising up. He grabbed his cup, rushing around, dumping it in the sink before grabbing a cinnamon bagel from the pantry. He bent to get a Zip-loc bag from a lower cabinet, and your eyes moved on their own to his ass in his light denim jeans. 
What. A. Sight. Now you were darting your tongue out to sweep over your lips.
He zipped up the bagel and left it on the counter to hurry to his room. When he reappeared, he was holding his phone, sending a text based on the sound, before he tucked it into his front pocket. He also held a beat up guitar case. 
“Still carrying around that same old case?” You grinned, a brow perked at the sight of the duct tape holding it together. A few stickers here and there, littering the case. “Not a new one to match your new rockstar life?”
“The case adds character,” he winked, your blushing face, the victim. Then, he was on his way to the door, keys jingling out of the bowl on the counter and into his hand. “Let me know if you need anything today.”
You were responding with an agreeing noise and word as he shut the door behind him. But when your eyes scanned the counter again, you saw the bagel. Even though it was just a bagel with cinnamon swirl, it was still his breakfast. He needed to eat. That’s what had you rushing out the door after him, your page getting a quick sticky pressed into it.
And, as soon as you saw the twinkle in his eye at you remembering to grab the bagel for him, you realized that you just wanted that. If you were being completely honest, you’d just needed that one last smile to start your day. The perfect start to a morning, you’d say. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
You decided to order some chicken fajitas from a local restaurant. DoorDash was your new best friend with the pregnancy cravings. 
Chicken fajitas were a new favorite for the baby. A weekish ago when you’d first tried them as a pregnant woman, you’d learned they tasted more delicious than they ever had before. They didn’t make your tummy roll.
As you waited for the food to arrive, you decided to do some tidying around the apartment. You washed a couple of dishes you’d left in the sink from the morning, and picked up notebooks, textbooks, and toys of Stevie’s from around the living room. Then, after further inspection of the living room, you realized it could handle a sweep or two with a vacuum. And after that, you decided to Swiffer the kitchen. Didn’t feel like full-on mopping, but you had to round out the floor cleaning. 
Before you could head to your bedroom or restroom to clean those spaces, a boundary was drawn for you when you heard a knock at the front door. DoorDash. Food. Fajitas.
Suddenly, unashamedly, your mouth was watering. Food took total priority over cleaning and you left the vacuum and Swiffer precisely where they were. You never left them out after cleaning, but you were hungry, okay? 
But just as you’d made it to the door, you didn’t have to open it. Instead, you heard polite conversation from the other side, thank you’s and have a good night’s. 
Before he opened the door, you went ahead and did it for him. And so, when you did, there was Jake, holding your food. The fajitas didn’t matter much anymore. 
Well. . . That was until he walked in and you got a good whiff of the steaming, seasoned vegetables and grilled chicken. Priorities were back to normal real quick with an embarrassing rumble from your stomach. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Once you’d eaten all of your food in basically one bite, you sat on your sofa with a damn good book you were quickly becoming entranced by. But about twenty minutes into you sitting there, Jake appeared from where he’d disappeared to shower after he’d sat your food on the counter.
“You know, I keep thinking about something,” Jake started, coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch from you.
He was freshly showered— looking and smelling fucking delicious–hints of citrus came from his drying hair. Then, you smelled the warm and slightly sweet scent of sandalwood as he moved, propping his pajama clad legs on the coffee table in front of you two, unsticking his ripped t-shirt from his probably still-wet chest. You tried very hard not to watch him situate himself, too. The way he adjusted the inner seam of his pants, dangerously close to his. . . 
Yeah, you looked away. Focused hard on the book you were trying your damnedest to read. His body was a massive distraction. 
Trying to not be totally inappropriate, you replied to his earlier statement, still training your eyes on the page in front of you. “What were you thinking about?”
“I brought up the therapy thing the other night,” he started. You gave an absentminded ‘mhm’ in response, finally finding slight interest in the characters in front of you again. “And I’ve been wondering. Did you ever give that a second thought? Starting therapy?”
You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to catch up with the more serious topic of conversation. Looking up from your book, you closed it and put it to the side. When you placed the novel on the coffee table, he followed your hand back to you. His eyes found yours and your eyes fluttered again. You shook your head. “Yeah,” you trained your features, letting a smile float to your lips at his attention to you. “I actually–um–I started going.”
His features showed unkempt elation at your words. His eyes, bright and a wide smile on his lips. He sat up, facing you better than before, a foot balanced on the floor as the other bent with his body leaning towards you. “Seriously?!”
“Yeah,” you blushed. Why did he care so much? Surely it was mostly for the wellbeing of the baby. Right? 
You know he cared before he knew about the baby, a calm voice hushed in the corners of your mind. Just let him in. Don’t be afraid.
Clearing your throat, you kept up with your thoughts and tried to open up in spite of your ever-swirling unsureness. “Thank you for doing the research. Really. I’m super grateful. You gave me the push I needed and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. The baby, too,” you added. “I wanted to get better for the baby. You two made quite the team in helping me want to be better.”
His cheeks reddened, complimenting his skin tone and the few freckles and scars that dotted his cheeks. He shook his head, “Don’t thank me. I just wanted to help–that’s it. You made the brave move to start,” his lips twitched with a quiet, close-lipped grin. “How’s it going? Well–no–you don’t have to answer–that’s not my–.”
You ignored him, suddenly feeling this urge to fill him in. “I love my therapist. Like, she is already one of my favorite people on this fucking earth,” you beamed, thinking of Gia’s wonderful aura and personality. “And we actually start EMDR in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh,” he started, surprised. His eyes widened as he leaned back into the arm of the couch nearest him. “You decided on EMDR, too?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing down briefly before letting your eyes dance with his again. “That seemed to be the only logical route since there’s so much shit to dig through that I don’t even–can’t even remember. It seemed like the most intensive form of therapy and I needed that.”
“Are you afraid of what you might find?”
“Yes,” you replied without question. “But, that’s the only way you can properly heal. Sometimes things that feel right–like EMDR, because it just feels like the right path already– those things, they’re going to probably also feel a little uncomfortable and feared at first. But, it all leads to the ultimate destination of being healed. And that’s what matters most.”
There was a quietness, a cozy silence that settled between the two of you. A few moments where you shared breaths and your gazes intertwined. . . It felt heavenly to share space with him like this when things felt normal and all right between the two of you. There wasn’t another word for it. 
His eyes were sincere with his tone when he broke the silence. “Y/n,” he breathed your name, making your tummy flutter with the most illustrious butterflies. “I am so fucking proud of you.”
Suddenly feeling like you were getting too much praise for something you were doing for the baby rather than yourself, you shook your head and brushed him off with a wave of your hand. “Don’t be,” you encouraged with a little scoff, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”
“I will be proud and it is a big deal,” he concluded. “All I’ve wanted is for you to feel closer to being whole–you deserve it.”
“The baby deserves it most,” you argued–didn’t want to be self-centered on the subject. “It’s for the baby.”
“Well,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms across the chest of his white t-shirt. “I want you to focus on helping yourself, too, y/n. Please,” he asked, tone softening. Your eyes flickered across his. “I brought it up in the first place because I wanted you to feel better.”
You took it as food for thought, nodding at his words. Truly, you did consider what he’d said. . . his opinion mattered a helluva lot to you–probably too much. But you didn’t want to waver from who you were doing it mostly for. Your hand found your tummy as you reached the coffee table for your book and Stanley. 
Taking a big sip from your trusty tumbler, you eyed him once more before opening your book. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay in here with you when you were sure he had better things to do. “I will remember that,” you offered with a small grin, flipping your book open to where you dog-eared it. 
You waited for him to get up from his spot on the couch, but. . . he didn’t. He stayed put, situating his body to face the TV. 
In your peripheral vision, you saw how his legs spread across the cushion and once again tried to ignore ignore ignore. But you couldn’t help the thought that there was just something so fucking enticing about Jake Kiszka manspreading. It was gross when every other man did it. But Jake? All it made you want to do was straddle his sturdy hips.
Fuck. Focus on the book. Come on, y/n.
“Also. . .you realize, if you are craving something,” he began, pulling you from your book yet again. “You don’t have to DoorDash it. I’m always willing to go get you the food you are wanting.”
To put it simply, you were surprised by the turn in conversation. It was sort of random, but also not random all at the same time. 
For no reason whatsoever, you decided to combat the sweet offer. “What if you’re with Maya when I’m craving something?”
Why the fuck were you like this? Honestly, it felt mostly like a form of protection from getting your hopes up too high. . . it was a coping mechanism. But you hated it. It was stupid.
He hummed, thinking. Then, he piped up with an answer in no time. “I’ll just try to make sure we hang out here more than her house. Simple.”
Oh, joy.
“You’d rather be here than her massive mansion of a home?” You questioned, trying to not think about seeing her stupidly stunning face more than you wanted to. 
“Well, yeah,” he confusedly responded. “This is my home and I like being here.”
His home. He liked being here. The words pulled at you–in every direction. Broke you and made you wish things were different.
“How does she afford that, by the way?” You unapologetically nosed, not wanting to sit in any downhearted thoughts. It was rude to pry, you knew. But you didn’t really care at the moment.
He chuckled raspily, reaching to the coffee table for the Roku remote. When your eyes immediately looked over your book to peer at his waist, you didn’t think twice about it. It was whatever. “She’s the financial manager for this big corporation on Fifth Avenue.”
Your stomach fell. Jesus. Besides having trash music taste, apparently she was incredibly intelligent, too? What didn’t she have? You couldn’t even figure out what the fuck you wanted to do with your life and she was financially managing a giant ass company?Depressing as hell. Showed you your worth once again, in comparison to her. She was someone and you were literally nobody. 
“Can I watch something?” He asked you, patiently waiting. You gave a half-ass ‘yeah, of course’ in reply, not fully present. 
And when he eventually turned on some documentary about pirates that sort of piqued your interest, too, you decided to close your book for a final time. And you didn't put any more substance to your gloomy self-consciousness. It was your own fault you were feeling this way now–being nosy when you shouldn’t have been. Prying into someone’s life who’d never done anything wrong to you. 
Yeah, she’d slept with Jake. . . but did she even know that you’d also–? Shit. Did she know that the woman her boyfriend lived with used to fuck him, too? How in the hell would she react to the news if she didn’t already know that–? Your stomach twisted into knots at the thought of her finding out about. . . all of it.
The courage sprouted up as a historian started speaking on an infamous female pirate. “Does–does Maya know that we used to. . .?”
His brows dipped, thoughtful, turning down the television to acknowledge you’d spoken. But, he kept watching the documentary, his eyes honed in on the black-boxed subtitles. “No, actually. No she doesn’t. Didn’t really feel the need to tell her.”
Of course he didn’t feel the need. It kind of really hurt, but it wasn’t on Jake. Not at all. You knew very well that the sex probably wasn't as important to him as he’d once expressed. You’d been so angry and hateful to him, enough to drive away any sort of deep, lingering feelings that might have lied there. 
He knew that it wasn’t special enough that she needed to know. It was something of the past. All that mattered now was her. Only now. . . There was one inevitable reason it would have to come to light. You didn’t give voice to the obvious. The fact that, now, he would have to tell her. And you both knew it. 
As he turned the volume up a couple notches, you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck would she react. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 21, 2022
You couldn’t have made it to your car any faster if you tried. Looking at your parking decision in hindsight, you realized you should have parked closer to the campus advisory office. But you hadn’t. You’d left your car parked where it had been for class. So now you had to walk a much longer distance that you could have avoided. . . If you’d just thought ahead.  
And in depressing moments like these, you wished you would have. The tears that flew down your cheeks in steady tracks made you beyond grateful that you hadn’t worn mascara. You’d had to meet with your advisor today to touch base and talk career plans. . . It was something that Pratt had decided to add to all program studies, for senior students. The idea of the meeting was to help students feel supported. 
But you didn’t feel fucking supported. Not at all. The way your advisor had blatantly judged you for even daring to bring up the idea of being a lyricist. . . She had instantly struck your idea down with a curt shake of her head and furrowed brows. Her eyes had lit up with laughter. But thankfully, she hadn’t been so terrible as to actually laugh in your face. 
Her words hadn’t been much better than that alternative, though. She’d unabashedly, condescendingly criticized your idea of becoming a lyricist. She made you feel stupid for ever even thinking of it as a possibility. 
“I’m not saying it’s impossible, but there’s a very slim chance that a label will take a fresh graduate. That’s a career you have to prove yourself in. Takes a long time to do that, a lot of experience that you don’t have.” 
The snarky tone in her voice pissed you off. Her words stuck with you enough that they dared to crush every dream you had about your future, which is something an advisor should not do. They should encourage, not discourage, to the point of making their advisee’s feel like utter shit after an appointment. 
So, as you finally made it to your car, you tried to contain the sobs that threatened to escape. . . but to no avail. Because, over and over again, you thought of how your advisor–someone who should be helping you to pursue your dreams–basically told you that you weren’t good enough for the one thing you wanted to do. She’d told you as much in her “officially official doctorate-level” advisor lingo. If her goal had been to completely crush you, she’d done just that. 
You were glad your next stop was therapy because you desperately needed to hear Gia’s two cents.
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 21, 2022
You spent roughly 30 minutes filling Gia in on the past week of your life. She heard all about you telling Jake, talking to your campus advisor, and any other thing that came to mind to tell her. 
When you started the session, Gia had let you know that you only had the first thirty minutes because you needed to find your mental and emotional safe place by the end of the session. It was today’s goal to establish that place. Finding your footing in the safe place was a vital precursor before you began EMDR. She’d had great advice for your life update, once you’d effectively word-vomited all over her. 
To your utter relief, the career thing didn’t bother her at all. Her expression barely changed as she’d shrugged. The first thing she’d done was assure you that everything would be fine and it would work out and that you have time to figure it out, despite what societal norms would tell you. So, even though that had been the biggest, most terrifying thing on your mind when you’d shown up to counseling today, you decided to not worry about it since Gia didn’t seem disturbed by the news at all. 
“Anything is possible,” she’d reassured you once your tears had momentarily stopped after telling her everything your advisor had said. “Don’t let a few words–opinions– from one woman make you disbelieving of that fact.”
Her opinions on Jake were positive, too, which made your heart swell in your chest. Though, it simultaneously broke for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?
“And Jake. . .,” she’d remarked at the end of the thirty minute mark, rolling back in her chair to her desk to get a big swig of her herbal tea. Your baby thought it was gross, your stomach rolling, but good for her and her nasty tea. “He is an outstanding example of a man. I’m impressed with his actions, his words. . . all of it. He seems like a stand up guy, and I hope I get to meet him one of these days,” her grin was sly, but you didn’t know why. 
So, yes, while your heart beat erratically and longingly at her words about him, it simultaneously broke your heart for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?
It made you think, as you watched her type notes on her laptop . . . Would you have told him if you were still seeing each other? Surely so. . . But maybe not. . . you weren’t really the best at complimenting him. And you sort of (desperately) hated that.
Don’t fucking think about it, y/n, a thoughtful, protective voice said to you. Just think about you right now. 
So, you did the best you could to shove any thought of being a bitch to him from your mind. And instead focused on Gia’s comfortable couch. Soft camel-colored leather. The way the cushion sank under you felt like sitting on a dense cloud. She was making light conversation before getting to the nitty gritty. You focused on her the best you could. 
Today would be your first venture into the realm of EMDR. . . . And you were anxious to begin this long-awaited journey of replenishing your soul with the incredible gift of reprocessing. 
“The safe place we are finding today will be where you go when things become too much during our EMDR sessions.” Gia wheeled closer to you in her light pink office chair, the smell of eucalyptus and mint following her, as she must use it as a sort of body oil or spray. She carried the calming smell with her everywhere. And the office, so wonderfully consoling with the scent of lavender. The little machine that spurted the essential oil every 10 minutes. All of these things combined, keeping the room drenched in calm. 
“There are places your mind is going to take you, some darker than others. These are scenes from your life that you will need to experience again in order for us to process through them so you can heal through them. Considering, you know, EMDR is simply a reprocessing technique,” she explained, adjusting her wire lens frames on her nose. “In order to not feel trapped, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed in these memories, you will need to have a safe place to turn to–a place to run to–a scene to easily unlock. It might be unknown to you until you actually plant your feet in that scene, but this place is already the natural wave your brain takes to feel safe.” She added one more thing to this train of thought. “This will just be the first time your brain is able to fully experience it. . . because you’re actually giving yourself the permission to do so.”
She held her hands out, palms up, and you took the hint and placed your hands in hers. As you would have guessed, her hands were soft as silk, matching the rest of her fairy-like aura. She squeezed once, lightly before continuing, “Now, I will be there the whole time, watching you, to monitor if you are doing alright. Sometimes you can sense it and get out, and other times it’s a little bit trickier. I will watch your eyes and the way your muscles tense, to gauge how I believe you’re feeling. Your body language will speak the words you may not be able to. This is an incredibly intricate form of therapy that we will wade through together. You will never be alone.”
She grinned, and you did the same. The way she explained these things to you was so assuaging. Were you scared? Hell yes. Of course you were scared. You were about to experience events that had become so dark and secreted in your mind, that they’d left you deep, lasting trauma. . . for a second time.
The re-experiencing aspect was daunting. But. . . you weren’t intimidated. You felt strong to withstand what was to come from your mind. There was the sense that you could overcome the darkness that was buried–some forgotten, some not–in your mind. . . especially if Gia was there to help you through it.
She let go of your hands after giving one more reassuring press. Then she was wheeling back to her desk.
“How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?” Gia asked, grabbing a round, average size cloth, zipped bag off of her desk and placing it in her lap. 
“I’m honestly feeling very much at ease right now. And, yes,” you replied honestly. You pressed your hands into the cool leather of the couch you were sitting on, your hands sinking into the ideally aged material. “I love your couch.”
“That’s good,” she smiled, full lips stretching over her white teeth. “Now, I want you to do a few calming exercises with me. We will start with deep breaths, then we will practice a few eye movement exercises. You just let me know when you’re ready.”
Not wanting to wait any longer, you responded readily. “I would love to begin whenever.”
“You’re sure?” 
“Yes,” you replied, brows fixed and eyes serious. “The sooner I can heal from this, myself, the sooner I’ll be healed for my baby. I’m ready.”
She raised a perfectly trimmed, coffee-colored brow. “You’re incredible, y/n.”
You rolled your eyes, but thanked her nonetheless. You weren’t incredible. Your baby was, and he or she was why you were doing this. The baby was your push, without even being born yet–the baby was the powerful one. 
Gia had you complete a variation of calming breathing exercises to center yourself. And after those, you completed eye movement exercises for the first time in your entire life. It was . . . odd, yet equally nice.
“Your body is loosening. You’re letting yourself transcend–easing your mind,” she said, voice airy and light. Your form felt just as light as her tone. “Now, open your eyes. We’ll do a shortened version of those techniques right before we begin. 
Your eyes slowly opened back to reality to see her unzipping the round black case she’d been holding in her lap. When she opened it, the contents of it were brand new to you. You’d never really seen a thing like the devices she was moving to hold in her hands. She pulled out two little black devices that were attached to a chord plugged into a slightly larger black box. This one, though, had knobs and buttons decorating the front of it. Your curiosity was growing by the second.
She wheeled her chair over to you once more, holding the black gadgets in each hand.
“These are tactical paddles,” she said, motioning for you to take them. When you did, she turned a knob on the black box she was still holding, sending a full vibration to the ones in your hands. “They’re buzzers that will help activate both sides of your brain during the session.”
They were buzzing one by one as you held them in the middle of your palms. You couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination, but you swore you felt each side of your brain moving right along with them. She scooted back a bit, giving you space to experience the feeling. She adjusted the knob just slightly once she’d moved away and you felt their vibrations speed up a little. 
“Do they feel okay?” She asked, situating the frames of her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s strange,” you said without thinking. “It’s very comfortable to hold them. . . but that is part of why it’s strange.”
Gia loosely giggled at that and reassured you that that reaction was more than typical and that she always considered that particular combination of feelings a good place to begin.  
After completing the body relaxation practices once more, you were being guided by Gia. “Relax your body. Lean back. Lay back. Whatever feels best for you.” With the last word, she adjusted the paddles down to a more neutral setting. Your hands felt tingly in a weird, yet contented way.
“Bring to mind the intention that you are practicing feeling safe when you actually are safe,” she softly said, soothing. “One of the best ways to evoke this feeling of safety is to imagine being in a place that you might really enjoy being–wherever you may feel naturally safe, peaceful, and/or calm.” She paused briefly, the paddles changed speed as your head started to become light. “It can be a real place or a place that you’ve come to imagine in your mind on instinct. This is the place you travel at the idea of feeling serene.”
You breathed an ‘okay’ in response, but focused more on the way the instruments in your hands were aiding in sending you somewhere. You felt the atmosphere of your mind slowly changing–equally present and not.
The word Gia had earlier used. . .’transcend.’ It was the perfect word because you currently were completely, wholly transcendent.
“I’m right here,” Gia quietly, gently reminded you, as the blackness behind your eyes took hold, becoming the only thing your five senses could grasp, aside from the sound of Gia’s gentle guidance. “You are doing great.”
You felt the instantaneous feeling of a light breeze brush your face. It pushed you back, but you also felt the feeling of your body keeping still. There were two places. Reality: Gia’s office. And somewhere completely unknown. . . You were somewhere new. 
This wasn’t a place you’d ever been before. The barely-there sounds of birds chirping in trees within a forest that guarded you, on all sides, reverberated off the walls of your mind. The sounds, the breeze– they helped you find your footing. And suddenly, your feet were bare against the partially warm, partially cool feeling of damp dirt. Rain had recently come to this place. You could smell the rain. But every crevice of your mind knew it wasn’t raining anymore. No, you knew that the moment you opened your eyes, you’d find a light, clear blue sky, maybe a couple wisps of clouds painting against the beautifully blank canvas of azure. But you weren’t opening your eyes yet. You focused on everything else taking shape around you. 
The paddles continued to transfer varying speeds between your palms, but it was the last thing on your mind. They were the guide that you knew to follow, but didn’t have to concentrate on. 
Your nose tuned in to the smell of flowers around you. . . All kinds, but there was a particular plant infiltrating your mind the most. . . Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to place it until you opened your eyes. It was strange because you knew the smell, but your lack of sight was keeping the name of the flower hidden. 
Other things were hidden with your eyes still closed, but you kind of enjoyed the blank space. 
This season. . . the most wonderful tiny person was bound to grace the world in this season. Spring. It was springtime. You knew that much. Once your mind realized the season you were placed in, your eyes opened a little more to the scene around you. 
Lavender. An entire field of the wonderfully fragrant plant, surrounding you with its calming notes. And it was beautiful. Never in your whole life had you been in such a beautiful space, yet your mind had no problem creating it for you. 
“Tell me what you see, but keep your eyes closed for me,” you heard Gia’s voice, although it sounded a hundred miles away. It was hushed, distant, like you were hearing her through a tunnel–only an echo in your mind. It was strange. Your physical form was still seated on the comfy couch, but you were standing amongst the most lovely sea of lavender. 
“I’m. . .I’m not really sure where I am,” you whispered, feeling like raising your voice would disturb the serenity of this place you’d stumbled upon. “I’ve never been here before. It’s–it’s incredible.”
Much like Gia’s, your own voice felt muted in your head. But, unlike her, you were standing in the middle of a narrow tunnel, whereas she was at the end. You were traveling somewhere. Obviously.
“That’s okay,” she tells you. You suddenly felt the paddles quicken ever so gently in their pace, but they felt good. Comforting. Real. “Just tell me everything you’re seeing right now.”
“Lavender. . .A field of lavender. A forest surrounding me. Blue sky. . .,” You couldn’t feel much of saying the word lavender. “So much of it. I could just lay in it, let it surround me.” 
“So you’re outside– good. What else do you see? Is there any wildlife?” The echo of her voice became even more distant as you began walking around, searching for whatever else was there with you. 
Deer. A whole family across the field, taking nourishment from the flowers and emerald green grass. They weren’t like normal deer, though. They didn’t run from you as you approached them. They weren’t scared, they just existed peacefully within this place. Then, you heard the birds begin chirping again, as if on queue. 
“Birds are singing. . . There are deer,” you felt yourself telling her, still in amazement with your next words. “They’re really beautiful. And they’re not afraid of me. . .? I can almost touch them.” 
This was entirely unreal, yet all too real all at once. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever believe your mind was capable of this. Yet, there you were, witnessing the most alluring scene that you were sure didn’t physically exist anywhere on earth. Only in your mind. Safely in your mind. No one could destroy it, no one could infiltrate it. It was all yours.
“That sounds wonderful, y/n. Let's focus on a few other senses. Tell me what you smell,” Gia’s sweet voice sounded as if it was coming from the sky, from the wind. It was all around you, yet so far away. 
You felt your present body take a deep breath through your nose, trying to get the best whiff you could of everything surrounding your psyche. 
“I smell the lavender. It’s overwhelming, but in the best way. God it. . .It smells so good. So. . . Fresh. It’s newly bloomed. And I can smell rain. It’s not raining now but it was.”
“Good,” Gia softy said. “What can you touch? Tell me what it feels like.” 
You reached down to run your fingers over a spray of the dark violet flowers, their scent became even more powerful as you lightly ruffled them. 
“I’m touching the lavender,” you told her. “The buds are so soft, so light to touch. They feel delicate, but I know they won’t break. They’re sturdy. But they aren’t stiff.” 
Aside from the way they felt against your hands, they also emitted a feeling of pure peace. Of tranquility. A good, clean energy unlike anything you’d ever felt. 
“I can almost feel them too, y/n.” You heard her giggle quietly across the field. “What are you  doing? Are you standing, sitting?”
You then felt the urge to lie down. So, you did. Your body felt weightless in your mind as you let yourself fall backward, landing softly amidst the blooms. It felt like the most comfortable bed you’d ever laid in. But before you answered her, you felt your hands within your mind reach down to your tummy. You had to know if your sweet baby was there with you. 
And as you laid your palm gently over your tiny bump, you felt it. Your baby was with you, safely tucked away in the most calm place you’d ever known. It only made sense that your physical form of comfort found its way to your mental one, too. Feeling your bump here made you feel. . .complete. Although, there was still something missing. You didn’t know what, but you felt it. But at that moment, your baby was all you needed. 
Or so you thought. 
Because when you let yourself sit up from where you’d laid in the magnificent, flourishing field of flowers, you finally felt complete because the last person you needed had arrived. 
He was standing across from you, on the opposite side of the field. His long, wavy chestnut locks, flowing just the slightest bit in the breeze of the dreamy spring day. He wore a blue suit. A dark blue, three-piece suit with a dark blue shirt underneath it all to match. 
He was so handsome. Beyond stunning. The most immaculately created person. . .
He didn’t stay there for long before he was making his way toward you, striding as he naturally did. His walk, so smooth and sexy–always. 
As he came closer, you were learning that, in this realm, time moved just a tad bit different than normal. He seemed to make it over to you in less than a minute, even from the other end of the expansive field of light purple. 
Then, he was right beside you, lying down next to where you still sat next to him. He’d placed his left arm behind his head, to balance and lift himself a little. And, his left arm, spread out, ready for you to lay beside him. Lay with him. 
He didn’t say anything, but you knew that was what he wanted. You’d laid this way with him a million times before.
So, you moved to lay with him in a way that felt like coming home. You laid back, so comfortably relaxing your tired muscles as you placed a hand on his chest, and one side of your face against it. Curling your body into his, you laid one leg over his, your body facing toward him. Your bump was pressed snugly and safely against the side of his abdomen. Safe. 
Everything was safe here. Truly was the safest place your mind could conjure. You felt his steady breaths against the top of your head as you looked out past him, to the side of the field. Where the birds still chirped in the trees and the deer still meandered. 
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice equal with the breeze–quiet, calm. His breaths hit your head with each word, he was so near. . . but his words also echoed amongst the trees, all around you. 
Then, it was Gia’s voice you heard whisper through the trees. 
“You’ve found it, haven’t you? Your safe place,” she questioned knowingly, her tone lilted with excitement for you. 
Had you? 
Before you could consider it any longer, his hand came up to rest against your head, brushing so delicately through your loose strands of hair. Your body hummed, feeling one with the wind as he held you. Protected you. Stayed with you. Your body was telling you your answer in your curated fantasy, communicating it to your concrete form as you uttered it aloud.
“Yes,” you sighed, your body on the couch and still in Jake’s arms. You were vividly existing in your imagination and in reality all at once. This feeling would take some getting used to. While you were in shock, you were also not shocked at all. “Y-yes, I’ve found it.”
Jake . . . was he–? 
The lavender was glorious and the field you laid in, the soft ground, was better than any bed you’d ever graced. . . The deer were exquisite and lovely. The song of the birds, sounding like mystical, heavenly hymns. . . The sound of the trees brushing together in the warm breeze of the cool spring day, making their own music, and better than any white noise you’d ever experienced.
But Jake. . . None of those things even came close to the way you felt in his arms. The way you felt light as air and at ease the moment he’d graced your presence. You’d felt your peace and the baby’s when he’d graced the scene. Still did, as you melted into him, his breaths, his heartbeat, helping you feel free and firmly planted, one with all living things–all at once. There was no question that it was him. 
Jake was your safe place.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Now, I want you to make sure you’re finding quiet time to locate your safe place,” Gia advised, getting up from her rolling chair as soon as you’d risen from the couch. “It’s essential to practice before the sessions. You want it to be an easy place to locate during the really hard resurgence of memories,” she coached you, pushing her chair to her desk. 
“Got it,” you agreed, head still swimming a little as you steadily came back to reality. The prospect of traveling to that place in your spare time was a little intimidating. . . But also very exciting. 
Seeing Jake so vividly in such a serene atmosphere on a regular basis sounded like paradise. You could definitely find time to practice that. 
“If you’re not opposed, I would maybe find someone to drive you to your sessions,” Gia suggested, going to clean the paddles with a spray and microfiber towel. You tuned back in, alertness settling in. “These sessions,” she made eye contact with you after bending over to grab her tube of Clorox wipes. “They are bound to be–no, they will be incredibly intense,” she used a towel she’d retrieved from the container to wipe it down. “Just someone you can trust to be there for you afterwards. . . so you’re not alone when you’re coming down from these memories that will present themselves again.”
Still smelling hints of lavender and feeling the warmth of a chest beneath you in some other heavenly reality, you knew who you’d pick. Was it a crazy idea? What did Gia think? Would she tell you her opinion or would you be forced to figure this out on your own? You didn’t want to seem crazy . . . . or weird.
You had just found your voice to respond when she started speaking again.
“Who do you think would be the best–?”
“I actually have an idea of who–.”
The way your chest bubbled with laughter alongside her was wonderful. It felt like the most genuine giggle you’d ever exuded. You truly felt like you were in a sphere of incomparable serenity. The way your body felt. . . you felt complete. You felt self-assured. Still smiling, you raised a brow and motioned one hand to emphasize that she should continue with her train of thought. Your other hand safely held your belly, right where your baby was resting in its safe cocoon. 
“You might not like it,” she grinned. 
Instantly, you knew who she was talking about. 
Gia sighed, settling the paddles securely back in their zipped black bag. Her eyes found yours, testing the waters. Then she offered her opinion in a firm tone, “Jake would be ideal. He would be my option,” she winked, encouraging.
Your chest exhaled in relief. You weren’t crazy. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Gia had sensed your unsureness as she walked you to the front desk. She was taller than you with a sort of swagger in her trendy set of corduroy overalls. 
Nerves were wracking you, sweat already pricking in your armpits. You’d voiced your concerns to her in her office to which she’d told you to follow her.So, you had.
And when you made it to the front ‘desk’ (a tall counter with a window in front of it), you linked your hands under your belly with a sigh. Gia stopped at the counter and leaned on the heavy, light gray granite–opposite of where you stood on your way to the door. She leveled you with a stare, her fingers tapping against the expensive granite. 
“I’m just going to tell you this,” she sighed, a tiny little grin on her full lips. “Be confident. Have confidence. You can do it. Just try it out. Seriously. All you have to do is give it a try. I see it in you, y/n,” she firmly stated. Then, she got even more serious with a furrow in her dark brown brow. “Let. Him. Care, y/n. Don’t you dare work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
So, when you got home, you somehow found it in you to take Gia’s advice . . . and you immediately went to talk to Jake. The more you contemplated it on the drive home, you realized you weren’t really too nervous to ask him anymore. . .
The nerves had dissipated little by little as you’d rehashed your time in your safe place. How seamless things had been there. . . it felt like before. Like normal. . . and even though it wasn’t your normal anymore, you were clinging to it. It was giving you courage. And the fact that Jake was literally your safe place was giving you courage. 
Yeah, he made you nervous because he was Jake, but he also eased you so effortlessly because he was Jake. He was safe. 
He wasn’t perfect, no. But, he was someone who was permanently, preciously ingrained in your heart. Today had officially proved that. And you were carrying the sweetest little piece of him. . . that helped the nerves for sure. There was a piece of him that was always with you. And now that he knew about said precious baby, things genuinely seemed to be normal between the two of you again. . . as normal as could be at the current time.
It had you knocking on his bedroom door. 
It dawned on you as you delivered the knock that you hadn’t even thought of checking his parking space to see if he was home.  You’d been too anxious to see him and ask him what you had been encouraged to ask. . . .Before you lost the magic courage. Because, yes, let’s be real, he still made you nervous as hell. He was Jake.
It was all confusing and weird. As you stood there, waiting for longer than you’d planned, you realized he might not even be home. You could be standing here waiting for nothing. Or worse, Maya was in there with him or some shit and you were going to open the door to–.
Jake.
The door had opened to show a very sleepy, very effortlessly handsome Jake. His hair was all tousled like he’d been in a deep slumber. And when you looked past him, his bed was a mess from a nap. . .but no curvy, beautiful woman occupied it. 
The only thing you saw laying in the bed was a book, right next to the fluffed pillow where his head had been resting. It was open, laying face down with several sticky notes peeking out of the pages. And all that you could make out was a picture of a pregnant woman on the cover and the word ‘Expecting’ on the cover before your attention was brought back to him talking.
“Y/n?. . . You okay?” He was talking, voice patient and calm, but sounding as though he’d said the words a time or two before you’d come back to. 
You were quick to cover your ass to hide that you had been spying in his room. 
“Sorry,” you shook your head, looking down and clasping your hands under your tummy subconsciously. His eyes followed your hands, a little smile forming on his lips. You continued, “I just wanted to ask you something.”
His eyes opened, as if waiting for what you wanted to ask. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What’s that?”
You cleared your throat, suddenly a little nervous, but suddenly worked to picture him in the field of lavender. And then you were okay again. He was Jake. He was safe. “I–,” you glanced down, then back up to his kind, tired eyes. Just say it, y/n. “Would you mind going to a few of my therapy appointments with me?”
“Yes,” he replied, without any hesitation whatsoever. “Of course. Special ones or. . .?”
“All of them,” you blurted, needing to clear it up. Honesty. Just be honest. Don’t fear his reaction. He’s Jake. 
Eyebrows wrinkled, his lip quirked. “All of them. . .? Like, all of the special ones or–?”
“All of the appointments. Any of the appointments I have that you can make it to. I just need someone safe to go with me,” you rushed out. 
He blinked a few times, a gentle shake of his head before his eyes got sincere and a smile spread over his pretty lips. “And you chose me?”
“Yes,” you simply answered, not trusting yourself to say anything more. There was a definite part of you still reeling from today’s session and seeing him when you imagined somewhere safe. 
Standing there for a few seconds, you could tell he had a million questions floating through his mind. And, knowing him, you knew he was probably wondering why you hadn’t chosen Josh. And, to be totally truthful, you hadn’t once thought of Josh at the prospect of someone safe being there with you to see you through after the sessions. 
Jake seemed to be the only valid option. The only person you wanted to go with you. Even if Elsie were still living here, totally accessible and available, you knew Jake still would’ve been your first choice. The therapy had been his idea. He had asked you how it was going. He was someone you trusted to talk to, and he was someone invested in this with you. And he was him.
“I’d love that,” he responded softly. “When are the appointments?”
He’d love it? Your heart was thumping in your chest at the words. Absently, you thought of your poor heart monitor, and how it was going to be picking up some crazy data due to this man. 
“Every Monday,” you quietly responded. Then, you thought, before getting your hopes up, you’d better tell him what he was really in for. . . because he might end up eating his words once he found out his job in it all. “You’ll just have to wait for me. You could run an errand or two or whatever while I’m in my hour-long sessions. . . and sometimes they might go over.” He nodded, seeming fine with that. You were shocked. Didn’t know why you were shocked because he was naturally so thoughtful. You knew this. “And then, you’ll have to be there afterwards. And I might be emotional. This form of therapy is intense,” you explained. Then, you thought . . . “Well, you probably already know that because you. . .”
“Found it,” he finished, eyes twinkling. “I’d still love to go. You’re not going to scare me away from it. I know you’re afraid of that.”
Why the fuck did he even care to read you like a damned book? Surely your thought processes didn’t matter that much to him. But, you remembered his voice, reassuring you after Applebee’s. Cleaning up some toxic thoughts you’d let form.
“. . .I didn’t stop caring about you . . .” 
“. . .Just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you . . . It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”
Then, it was Gia’s voice. What she’d told you that day. . .just before you’d left.
“Let him care, y/n. Don’t work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”
Let him care. 
You decided to just continue on with the only reasonable response, eyes, filling with tears, trained on your fidgeting feet. “Thank you,” the words came out as a whisper. But you shook your head. Confidence. Looking up, you tried again, smiling with your eyes. “Thank you.”
His eyes held yours for a moment. He just let his eyes sink into yours. . .like he’d done so many times before. Just as he had in times past, he was letting himself read you. You could tell. 
Not able to help it, your cheeks filled with heat at his stare. Your heart picked up speed. You had to speak again. Break the quietness. The calmness in his observant, knowing irises was too much.  
“Will Maya be okay with it?” 
Why you chose to break the ice with her, you didn’t know. Probably to get his mind off of you and back on her. Where you knew he wanted it to be. He might have still cared for you, but she was the woman he loved. To him, you were sure that she mattered in this just as much as you did.
He shut his eyes once briefly, and with a shake of his head, he was back. His eyebrows dipped, pursed his lips with a curt nod. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure,” he assured. He tightened his fingers against his biceps. You couldn’t help but watch his strong hand flex. “I’ll–um, I’ll just tell her when the appointments are so she knows I’m not available on those days.”
Shit. You didn’t want to take him away from her. You hadn’t even thought of that. That would definitely be selfish. And not available on those days? Like, not available at all? Was he planning on spending entire Mondays with you?
Hurriedly, you offered a response to make sure to clear the air. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think of you having to–,” you groaned. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go with me if it’s going to interrupt your plans with her.”
His brows wrinkled. “I never said that.”
“It was implied,” you defended your thought process. 
“No, it wasn’t.”
You were suddenly irritated that he wasn’t understanding why you felt bad. “I just don’t want to be selfish, Jake. That’s all I’m saying. God.”
He rolled his eyes, hands getting stuffed in the pockets of the sweatpants he was wearing. You just realized how low they hung on his hips. You could see the very bottom of his stomach with the way he’d cut his t-shirt, just above the hip bones. You flicked your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. And, again, your face was hot. 
“I was literally saying I want to be there for you and I need to tell her that’s what I’m doing on those days,” he explained, tone sharp and patient all at once. He was putting his foot down.
You conceded. But. . . it made you think of something. Maybe it was the tan stomach of his skin and how badly you wanted to run your fingers across it. Or perhaps it was the fact that the woman in question might not be privy to one important detail. 
So, you asked. “Does she know I’m pregnant with your baby yet?”
His baby. 
You ignored the thought, instead training your mind on the serious matter at hand: would she be okay with it if she knew you were pregnant with his baby?
“No,” he curtly replied. Then, his tone was entirely calm when he stated, “She won’t know until you give me the okay to tell her. I told you that already.”
Flushing, you found his eyes. You tried your best to match the sincerity in his irises with your own. “Thank you for being considerate of that.”
“Of course,” his lips twitched to a small grin, then fell back to a purse. He chewed the inside of his cheek.
Fuck. You needed to wrap this up. You were wasting his time. But–you had to know. . . 
You cleared your throat, replacing your hands from below your tummy to cross under your boobs. The way his eyes flickered down with the action couldn’t be ignored and it gave you the push to ask. “. . .what does she know about us?”
“She knows you’re my friend and that we’re close because we live together,” he offered.
For some reason, the fact that he’d called you his friend made your heart leap into the bottom of your throat. It made you sort of sad, yet happy at the same time. Sad that you couldn’t be more, but glad that he was willing to call you such a wonderful thing. Did he seriously trust you to be his friend?
“We’re friends?” You shyly pondered. 
Aaand hormones were officially in control of your dialogue. It was time to wrap it up. Quick. You eyed the ground, embarrassed at your lack of control over questions.
But, his response was measured, so sweetly assuring you with his next words. His voice was soft and raspy, “I never wanted to not be your friend.” Then, suddenly, he was touching you. His hand was placed on your cheek, lifting your face gently to look into his eyes. There was no saving the response on the heart monitor data. And the swarm of buzzing butterflies in your tummy. You lost yourself in his gaze. “No matter what happens, you are my friend. I always want to be your friend, honey.” 
Honey. 
Your pulse increased tenfold and you couldn’t help the flutter of your lashes, your eyes watery yet again. 
His hand was still on your cheek, and a warm blush had settled in them when you mumbled, ashamed. “I hate you ditching your girlfriend for me. I don’t want to be selfish.”
A finger smoothed gently on your cheek, just beneath your lashes. “You’re not being selfish. And I’m not ditching her,” he removed his hand, and your heart sputtered a few times, trying to balance all of the emotions transpiring within you. He reached behind him, grabbing the handle of the door and shutting it behind him. When he moved forward with the motion, you stepped back. Didn’t want to risk getting too close. His eyes found yours as he consoled you. “Please quit thinking of it like that. I promised to be there–to help you–you a long time ago, and I intend to keep that promise. Let me.”
You were back in the hallway at your grandparents’ home. He was coming to sit next to you, against their beige, textured walls. The house, smelling like the pie that was baking. Familiar and safe. But the home had been the last thing making you feel safe in that moment. It was the man sitting next to you, telling you to let him help you.
“I want to help you. Let me.”
The same night he’d made the promise to find a therapist for you. Then, you were in his bed that night. . .Your cheek, on his damp chest.
 Tears were falling on his chest, your chest was tight as they kept coming, his skin prickling in their wake. “I–I’m sor–sorry.”
“Why, baby?” His voice settled your nerves. Warm. Soft. Him. 
“I hate that you have to see me cry,” you sniffled, wiping at the tears on his chest. But instead of letting you continue, he’d held your hand there, so you could feel the stable beat of his heart. 
“If crying is what it takes to heal, I’m here to listen to you as you wade through it.”
And, then, again. . . those same words filtered through your memory through a warm haze. 
Laying on top of him, in his bed, as you’d stared deeply into the darkness of his eyes, he’d earnestly spoken to you. “I want to help you. Let me.”
“Okay,” you sighed in the present time, your eyes not containing the pools accumulating in them, a singular tear falling down your cheek. 
Thankfully, it happened when he had decided to go back into his room to get something. And as soon as you’d brushed it away, he was back in front of you and had his phone in his hand. It was open, his fingers above the keyboard to show he was about to start typing. 
“What do you want me to tell her you need me for?” He looked up at you, hands steady around the phone as his eyes waited for you. His eyes, open and willing to help. Willing to understand. “I don’t have to tell her that it’s for therapy.”
“You can tell her it’s for therapy,” you responded. His brow raised, as if to ask ‘you sure?’, to which you responded, “I’m sure,” you grinned. Then, you continued on with what would be a valid excuse to give her for why you wanted him to go. “Just tell her you have to drive me to the appointments I have on those days because it’s a long drive that I don’t want to take by myself.”
His lips lifted easily, eyes tired, still, but wholly there with you to help. “Okay.”
As he typed, you stood there–so grateful for him. God, he was amazing. You could not believe there was ever a time you’d thought any different. Jake Kiszka. . . he was the man of fucking dreams. You knew he was. And you’d. . . let him go.
But, as you still believed, it was for good reason that you’d cut things off.
It kept lines drawn and clear and simple. Kept him focused on the dream. It just helped. Right?
Once he’d shoved the phone in his pocket and you’d heard the sending noise and the click of the phone going off, you decided to go ahead and let him be. You began walking to your room, and he started walking in the direction of the front of the apartment. Just as you’d opened your door, suddenly very sleepy and sore from your body growing a human, you spoke again. “Thank you, Jake.”
He turned as soon as you’d spoken, his gaze calm and falling on yours gently. His eyes felt like the breeze on a warm, spring day. The same sort of day you’d imagined in your safe place. 
“Don’t thank me,” he started. His phone chimed in his pocket, but he didn’t even reach for it. Instead, he crossed to you once more, your chest heating at him coming close again. And, once more, his hand reached up to delicately hold your face. The callouses that grazed your cheek brought so much comfort. They were familiar and felt like peace. “This is something I want to do. You don’t have to thank me.” 
Your mouth opened to dispute and as soon as you did, he saw it. 
At this, his lips lifted and he held your cheek fully in his palm, eyes boring into yours as he spoke. “Don’t argue with me. I mean every word. And you know it.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
Life was finally feeling peaceful again with Jake back in it, and in the know about the baby. Having him as a friend in your life was filling your cup – just the mere knowledge of him being there made you rest easier. Every morning was the same. A comfortable, reassuring sort of same. 
You’d wake up, and lay in your bed for a few minutes, rubbing your belly. Checking the Ovia app to read something new about the baby to start the day, you’d also check the size of the baby on that given week for the 100th time on that given week. After clicking your phone off, you would lay there and ponder your day and everything that you had to do. 
And once your feet touched the ground, you were walking to grab underwear, a maternity bra (because, yes, you’d purchased one with the speed your boobs had grown). Then came the outfit you’d set out the night before. (Even though sometimes, there would be a last minute change in wardrobe due to day-to-day changes in your body – the insecurities were slowly becoming very real, the more your body changed. And even the teeniest, tiniest changes were strikingly obvious to you.) 
The bathroom was your next stop. You’d take off the heart monitor before your shower, brush your teeth, and in the shower, you would glance down at your belly, water washing over it, to reflect on the person inside of it and how he or she was growing. And these days, you spent a lot of time wondering if the baby was a he or she. . . Just as you’d lean towards one guess, you’d lean towards the other. On certain days, you would wash your hair and if it hadn’t been very long, you’d skip that step. 
Once finished with the shower, you’d observe yourself to see if any stretch marks had grown, and at this point, a few had shown up, so a special cream was one the way that would be added to your morning and nightly routine to help prevent those from sticking around. Now, all you did was brush your hair and usually put it in a claw clip to avoid sweating profusely by keeping it against your neck. Then, you’d replace the adhesive of your heart monitor and adjust it to track your heart rate. 
You were so ready to be done with the stupid fucking device. It was a pain for many reasons. . . and you just hated the way it looked on your chest. It was a huge blemish on your changing body. A body that you were already feeling insecure enough about, even without the monitor.
When you’d trail back to your bedroom after your shower, you finished out the routine by taking your prenatals, checking your hemoglobin (which was doing consistently well, relieving you every time you saw the numbers stay positive), and you would pop a PregEase into your mouth to chew. The chewable had helped drastically with your nausea, and you weren’t planning on stopping it any time soon.
Finally, you’d go to the kitchen counter after making a smoothie in your BlendJet, and sit there to sip it as you read through The Panic-Free Pregnancy, taking notes in a notebook you’d purchased solely for baby notes.
And, now, since Jake had found out, he’d greet you in the kitchen or on your way to the bathroom to shower and he’d check on the baby. Check on how you were feeling. It always made you blush with the fact that he cared to check in. It was just really fucking sweet of him. Showed his heart. Of course, it wasn’t for you, it was for the baby. But still. . . it made your heart skip a beat. 
The day before Thanksgiving was no different. Except, this morning, Jake stopped you just as you’d grabbed your backpack and opened the door to leave for school. 
“Hey,” he called out to you. Your phone buzzed in your black LuluLemon, slung across your chest. When you turned, he flashed his phone screen towards you briefly. “Josh just texted in the group chat and asked if it was okay for us to have Friendsgiving here like you usually do. Day after Thanksgiving. Want me to tell him it’s fine?”
“Of course,” you grinned, getting your phone out to see the text for yourself. But, as you did, you also saw you were cutting it close to make it to class on time. Grabbing your keys out of your bag, you quickly responded, opening the door wider, one foot out. “Just tell him yes.”
He began typing as you went to walk out, the Jetta gave its signature beep across the parking lot as you unlocked it. But just as you stepped out, you stopped. Fuck. You’d have to clean the place. 
Normally, it would be no big deal, but you were still working long hours and keeping up with several classes while also being pregnant. . . 
So, you stepped back into the apartment, hand still holding the door open. You glanced up at him, accepting your fate. “I'll probably be cleaning the apartment tonight. I don’t want to have to fight any real baby tiredness on top of any food baby tiredness tomorrow night. I already get sleepy at the end of Thanksgiving Day, and I’m sure it’ll just be worse this year with,” you pointed to your belly. 
His eyes twinkled, but he didn’t say anything. . .probably because you were rambling and he was annoyed by it.
You twisted the knob, needing to leave, but wanting to let him know, “You can find something to do tonight so you don’t have to be around me and my obsessive compulsive cleaning habits.” 
He raised a brow, placing his phone on the counter. “Would it be okay if I helped you clean?”
“Um,” you faltered, nervous of him seeing that cringeworthy side of you. “I get really intense when I clean for special events.”
“I’m sure,” he grinned, winking. Your tummy swarmed with butterflies at the gesture. He continued, “But I still want to help you. Will you let me?”
Let him.
“I get kind of scary.”
“I don’t care.”
You measured him with your eyes, contemplating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t love his help. . . It would be fantastic to have someone help you. You just didn’t want to scare him away. 
You’re having his baby, y/n. Did you scare him away when he found out about that? Or did he want to help you then, too? And what about when he–?
“Sure,” you said, promptly cutting off the voice in your head. “You can help. I’m just warning you. My control issues are bound to go haywire when I deep clean.”
“For good reason,” he defended. “In that circumstance.”
Your lips raising into a soft smile couldn’t be stopped. “Thanks, Jake.”
The soft smile didn’t leave your face as you made the trek to your car. 
Then it all came crashing down when you passed Maya in all of her graceful, voluptuous beauty, right before you got to your car. Your outfit of a giant sweater and loose AE jeans suddenly paled in comparison to her sexy black pencil skirt and tight white button-up shirt. Her perfume, sweet and expensive, wafting off of her in waves as she passed by you with a smile and a quick wave. Then there was you: wearing your Bath and Body Works body spray that you got on sale for $5.95.
Her heels clicked past you as your old white Nikes caught a rock and almost made you trip, eliciting a weird noise from your mouth. Hand on the belly, you caught yourself – not so gracefully. When you looked behind you to see if she’d witnessed it, she was already knocking on the door of the apartment. . .and being greeted with a kiss from Jake. The smile was absolutely wiped off your face at the sight of that.
Of course, your mind traveled to a not-so-fun place as you buckled into your car and went to turn on your soul music playlist. You just sat there, contemplating once more how much it sucked that you couldn’t be with him. It was even more sad with your predicament – it made your heart jump into your throat that you couldn’t complete the natural circle of two parents with a baby.
The song that started off the playlist was perfect for bringing you out of your slump, though. The Commodores singing about being ”High On Sunshine” reminded you of how serene and peaceful you’d felt when you’d woken up. Life was going well. . .Truly, completely well. You didn’t need a relationship with Jake to complete a circle of sorts. . . Really. Especially at this point in your life.
You could be friends – it really wouldn’t be so bad. Just friends. You’d take what you could get. Things would be fine.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I don’t mind you telling her now,” you mentioned that night, packing up a nice dinner he’d made after you’d cleaned the entire apartment. 
He’d made chicken fajitas. 
Considering the meal was a crowd favorite (the crowd being you and the baby), it had been wonderful when you’d found out tonight how damn good he was at making them. Although, saying that you were packing it up into leftover containers with him. . .was a lie. 
You were leaning against the ledge of the counter top, watching him put it in Tupperware. He’d told you to sit and rest your feet and that he would worry about putting it away. Only agreeing halfway, you sure rested but didn’t rest your feet like he’d asked. After quietly accepting the offer with a quiet okay, you nodded your head. Then, you went to stand against the counter. 
“Please. Sit.” He’d encouraged, his voice slightly impatient, already weary with you. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he knew it was no use and that you weren’t going to agree. “You had to go to school and workwork today. You should rest your feet.”
Even though your feet did hurt like hell, you still weren’t about to let him boss you around. 
“Nah, I think I’m good,” you replied, shrugging. You took turns balancing and bouncing between each foot, totally giving you away. “I sit around too much.”
“Y/n.”
“Jake.”
He’d given you a look. And you had stared right back until he gave up and rolled his eyes before going about his business. 
In the present time, he was once again peering at you. But this time, his eye brow was raised in curiosity. “What?” He asked, unsure.
“You can tell Maya if you want,” you repeated, your eyes encouraging. “Tell her that you’re having a baby,” you laughed under your breath at that. A piece of hair fell from its place behind your ear. “Or, I guess, if we’re being technical. . . That I’m having your baby.”
He didn’t laugh along with the funny wording, just continued looking at you like you’d grown three heads. 
“Why?”
You didn’t know. All you knew was that Maya wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So, in order to save Jake some extra stress, he’d better tell her sooner rather than later. That was it. 
“Just want it to be out in the open,” you stated plainly, shrugging once more. “Josh is going to tell Sam and Daniel for me soon. . . Explain all of the nitty gritty details of us so I don’t have to again.”
His face sank momentarily. Though, it didn’t last long enough for you to be sure if it wasn’t something you’d imagined.
“On top of that, I’m telling my grandparents tomorrow, so you just go ahead and tell her,” you explained further, trying to convince him it was okay.
He blinked a few times, probably processing it all. And then he responded.
“Okay,” he finally said, lips making a lopsided grin, eyes still containing a sense of curiosity.
“Okay,” you echoed, suddenly feeling the reality of him telling her. . . the reality of Josh telling Sammy and Danny. . .
It was about to be out in the open. Everyone was about to know. Not counting the doctors or Gia, a tiny total of four people in your life knew. Only four. You, Elsie, Josh, and Jake. And now, that number was about to increase. And with your permission, no less. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 24, 2022
You were on your way to your grandparents’ house, Elsie being your chauffeur when you filled her in on all of the therapy appointments (though, not the person secured in your safe place), your heart monitor in all of its ridiculous, agonizing glory.
Then, the boys’ careers came up in conversation. The music. The albums. The photoshoots. You even told her about the fan who called Jake hot. And as she was laughing about the fan interaction, and how uncomfy she was sure it made you, you thought to text Jake something that needed to be said. Something you’d believed in with your whole heart since the beginning. His career. 
It was even more important to you now that you were going to have his baby. It had trailed through your mind enough times that you knew you needed to share it with him. 
You, 12:02 p.m.: Please don’t put your career on hold for me or the baby.
It took a few moments, when Elsie was in the middle of telling you that she wasn’t sure how she felt about other girls calling Josh hot. You were absently agreeing on not being sure about it when you got the notification of his response.
Jake, 12:05 p.m.: I won’t. I’ll figure it out. 
And while you were in the middle of having one hard conversation, you decided on another. Something that broke your heart to say, but you believed in it just like you did the other topic. It was going to be awkward to talk about in person, so you were going to be a coward and hide behind the phone to say it.
You, 12:06 p.m.: We also don’t need to be in a relationship.
After sending it, you instantly realized the perspiration that had gathered on your palms. Instead of talking to Elsie, you just stared at your phone. After finding out, he’d turned his read receipts on, so you were able to see the moment he’d seen the message. 
While cleaning the night before, you’d asked him about it and his response was that he had done it so there weren’t any holes in your communication about baby-related things.
Jake, 12:08 p.m.: Never said we did. I don’t need that.
I don’t need that.
Translated, you knew it was a way of saying it would cause unnecessary stress. And you’d be remiss to ignore that the stress would most definitely result from you and your stupid emotional instability. And that thought just reminded you that the baby was the most important person to work on being emotionally stable for–not its father. 
Nonetheless, his response hurt way more than it should have. It cut fucking deep. For no reason whatsoever, because you knew he had a point. You believed the same as he did. Your previous text said as much. You just had to think logically. 
Jake, 12:09 p.m.: 1, I’m already in a relationship
Jake, 12:09 p.m.: and 2, it’ll be easier for us because we won’t have to worry about a relationship. It’s good that we’re just friends.
He was right. He made sense. You knew it. It was good to be just friends.
You, 12:10 p.m.: You are very right. I’m glad we’re on the same page.
Jake, 12:10 p.m.: and as far as touring and the band goes, we can figure out how to handle a baby in all of it. We’ll just work in a few more breaks or something
Jake, 12:11 p.m.: don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine. 
Jake, 12:11 p.m.: and by “we” I mean you, me and the baby
Right as you’d pulled up to your grandparents’ home, you sent him a final text about it. If you were being totally honest, the conversation made you feel sick to your stomach and you just wanted to focus on the fact that it was Thanksgiving. 
There was also the fact that you were more than just a little nervous about rocking your grandparents’ entire world. 
You, 12:22 p.m.: Thank you for talking to me about this. We can talk about it more at some other point. Have a good Thanksgiving!
Instantly, he read it. But it took him a bit to respond. You knew he was busy with family and Maya. And again, your stomach was knotted at another thought. Her. Them. Dream couple.
Jake, 12:25 p.m.: for sure. We’ll find time :) 
Jake, 12:25 p.m.: happy thanksgiving, y/n. I’m thankful for you. I really hope you know that.
With that last text, your heart sped up, your monitor phone beeping repeatedly in your belt bag to notify you of it. As if you couldn’t already feel the way your heart was about to literally beat out of your chest at his words. You grumpily unzipped your bag to get it out, locking your phone on your lap.
“Holy shit, dude,” Elsie exclaimed as she shut off the car. “Are you okay?! What’s happening?!”
You reassured her that it was just your monitor telling you your heart rate had gone up. But you made an excuse for why. Didn’t want her on your ass.
“I’m just really nervous to tell Grandma and Grandpa,” you lied.
You didn’t have to wait long for it to stop beeping. Thank God. It was annoying as hell, calling you out when you did not want to be called out. Finally, it turned off, though.
Elsie’s eyes became sympathetic, her delicate hand coming out to squeeze your sweater-clad arm. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be there the whole time. Deep breaths,” she calmly assured, taking a few with you. “And they’ll honestly just be really excited. Grandma, immediately. . . but Grandpa. . .”
“. . .Might take him a while,” you finished.
Your Grandma wasn’t necessarily your greatest worry, but she had been known to judge a time or two. . . Your Grandpa on the other hand. . . he was in a constant state of disappointment. All in all, you really had no fucking clue what to expect. Within seconds, the two of you were busting up at the thought. He was a pain in the ass. The definition of a crotchety old man. Laughing with Elsie was therapeutic. And this laughter in particular was incredibly necessary.
She waited for you to feel calm enough to go inside, and once you did, you got out to follow Elsie to the door. You never responded to the text. Didn’t even react to it with an exclamation, thumb, or heart. You didn’t want to mess anything up. 
So, you just let it be your last positive push before going inside your grandparents’. Because, while it hadn’t been the reason to make your monitor go batshit crazy, it was still incredibly nerve wracking to tell the people that raised you. The idea of telling them that you were pregnant by a man you weren’t in a relationship with. . . yeah.
You closed your eyes momentarily to locate your Safe Place. You’d gotten quite good at finding it. All you had to do was close your eyes and call it. But as Elsie unlocked the door to let the two of you in, the present time was unkindly welcoming you back in with anxious arms. 
Deep. Fucking. Breaths.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Thanksgiving was one of your favorite holidays. Christmas was your absolute favorite, but Thanksgiving was right up there, just behind it. 
For one, it meant your whole family got to be together for a holiday, and you loved getting to spend time with your family. It felt more special than just about anything else. . . and Thanksgiving was so great because it was just a day where you sat around, eating food, being with each other, talking and laughing. It was a holiday meant to force you to ruminate on why you were thankful for each other– a holiday that was designed to bring out the best in a person.
The hope that your grandparents would only have love in their hearts when they heard your news was the only thing that had pulled you and your nerves through the doorway. The same doorway you’d entered through a million and one times before. Except this time, someone else was entering with you. Your hand touched subconsciously to your rounded belly. There was nothing you could do about your predicament now, so you could only hope for the best responses they could muster.
As you walked in, the smell of your Grandma’s ever-famous smoked turkey flooded your senses, momentarily calming you. It reminded you of the main reason Thanksgiving and Christmas were your favorite holidays. They’d been that way for years–as long as you could remember. Her turkey was an absolute favorite of yours dating all the way back to your childhood. Cooking was her love language, and you first learned that before you ever went to live with your grandparents. You could remember loving it and finding solace in the taste of her full, home cooked meal on the rare occasion that your mom decided to celebrate the holidays with her parents. 
The taste and aroma of your Grandmother’s food represented peace for you–especially her holiday food. Holidays were special because they were the only time you were ever able to escape your mother and the now-hazy situations she’d put you in for the first ten years of your life. And then, when you’d gone to live with them, you’d finally found safety and security. . . The taste of her food had just continued its pattern of bringing you the feeling of comfort.
The times your mom would tote you and Elsie over state lines to see them were always very special. They were bittersweet memories for you. It was the only way you’d been able to see your grandparents then, as she never made them privy to your changing living locations. The three of you were always on the move. Never in one place for too long. But every home was dirtier than the last, a new man who would occupy it, as if anxiously anticipating your arrival.
You shook your head at those times–didn’t want to think about it for too long. Those thoughts led down dangerous, terrifying, dark paths that you didn’t want to experience on a day like today. Those times were the ones you’d explore in EMDR with a licensed professional at the ready to help guide you. 
You’d decided years ago that you weren’t going to venture down those paths alone. Didn’t want to bother Elsie, so instead, you’d instead pushed the memories away to near nonexistence. And. . . today was not the day you planned to change that. You wanted Gia with you for that, thank you very much. 
As you walked closer to the kitchen, you heard the sounds of your grandparents’ laughter, sounding so much like you were used to. . . You could only hope and pray to everything that it would continue on as normal—as normal as it could be—after they found out your big news. 
The warm hugs and expressions of joy that greeted you as the two of you rounded the corner were both a reassurance and an added stressor to your shaky nerves. You really didn’t want to shake their world too much. . . Didn’t want this to change. This was your first true home. They were your first people.
The people who took you and your sister in when you had no one else, the ones who raised you, showed you love when it felt your entire world lacked it. You couldn’t quite rid the apprehension to tell them. You would not be able to until the news officially left your mouth. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I’m pregnant.”
The sound of forks clinking against plates and the deafening sound of silence surrounded the entire dining room. You weren’t sure where the fuck it had come from–why you’d chosen to say it when you did. . . but there was no doubt it was out now. No questions were asked. Not yet. All eyes in the room, trained on you. Everyone sat still, totally unmoving and in total shock. 
Thankfully, only a few moments of it had to pass before your sister broke the silence. She was trying to buy some peace for you. Just as much as you, she was not a fan of awkward silence or tension.
“I, for one, am so, so excited,” Elsie beamed, looking back and forth between your grandparents, whose mouths were still clamped shut. “It’s going to be wonderful–the sweetest addition to this family!”
After only a few seconds of Elsie’s attempt to ease the air, your Grandma started blinking and you soon realized that she was blinking back tears. Oh no. . . was she upset? Disappointed? The woman who raised you so well – loved you better than anyone ever had before, who took you in when no one else wanted you. . . She didn’t need to sit there feeling any negative emotions only because of your careless decision. Just like she’d done for you, you needed to comfort her in this moment of unclarity. 
You went to rise from your seat, beginning an explanation you weren’t quite sure of yet once you were standing. “Grandma, I–.”
“Babygirl!” Your Grandmother exclaimed, bursting into tears. And before you could make it from where you stood beside your floral padded chair, she was walking to you – as fast as her frail legs could carry her. Even though you watched her every move, the feeling of her arms wrapping around you came before you expected it to. “We couldn’t be happier. I don’t even have to look at your Grandfather to know he’s as ecstatic as me. I know he loves you just like I do,” she sighed, squeezing you gently. Her shaky, familiar voice spoke softly in your ear, “A baby is the greatest gift – especially if it’s one of my babies’ babies.”
You blinked back all of the emotion that nestled comfortably into your bones. The distinct, wistfully familiar notes of Chanel No. 5 wrapped around you as tight as her arms. And, suddenly, the scent had you back in a mirage of memories where she was holding you just the same. 
The first time a boy had broken your heart at thirteen years old. When you fell off your bike the month after you moved in with them, crying more over your mother than the bike wreck. Anytime you and Elsie got into some asinine bickering match that only your Grandmother could settle. . . So many times she’d held you just like this. Except this time, you felt it differently, gripped closer to her, not ready to let go. . . you’d needed this so badly. Hadn’t even realized just how badly you needed to feel her hold you after finding this out. 
You sniffed, finally letting yourself part from her. She wasn’t going to be the first to let go, so you made the move. “Grandma,” you looked directly into her eyes, getting lost in the aging, watery icy blue irises. “Your approval – and Grandpa’s,” you glanced at him briefly, a small smile on his face as he watched you. Your heart leapt. “It meant more to me than anyone else’s.” 
Elsie huffed and made a noise. Your Grandma giggled at Elsie’s indignance. You rolled your eyes, turning to your sister for a split second to give her a look, then faced the aging woman once more. “Almost anyone else’s. I was just scared to let you down, although I. . .,” you paused momentarily, blinking back tears as her perfume infiltrated your senses once more as she pushed some hair delicately behind your ear. “I should have known better than that.”
“My precious babygirl, there is nothing you could ever do that would make us think less of you,” she insisted, bringing her hand down to your arm, softly soothing circles into your flesh through your sweater. “Not only have we told you that your entire life, but I could only hope we have been able to show it to you. Just how much you mean and how we are always on your side – no matter what.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
The rest of the dinner and dessert went on about the same, with your Grandpa actually receiving the news very well–only grumbling slightly at the idea of the father not being around.
To which Elsie had quickly defended with a correction, pointed straight at your Grandfather, her eyes glued to him. “Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, Grandpa.”
You’d joined in, too, not wanting her to have to approach that on her own. It wasn’t her responsibility to have to make any reassurances for your mindless decision. 
“He is in the picture, Grandpa,” you assured, swallowing your bite of pumpkin pie. Your eyes linked with his, begging him to understand. “I never said he wasn’t. I only said that I didn’t want to tell you who he is yet.”
After that, he’d simmered down on the father subject enough for dessert to finish up. And, as Elsie and your Grandma went to put away leftovers, you led the way to the living room to set up A Christmas Story. It was a Thanksgiving tradition to watch it after stuffing your faces to the point of exhaustion. 
Just as you’d gotten the movie queued up, you heard his telling sigh behind you. His years-old maroon, fabric recliner, moaning with the sudden weight of a person. You gave him the slightest smile, still unsure of how to act around him as he’d been supportive, just quiet about it. 
His reaction could definitely be expected, but you didn’t want it. You just wanted him to not act crotchety, just this once. Problem was, you were kind of stuck on what to say. So, instead of saying anything to initiate conversation, you sat on your phone, checking Instagram stories. 
So many fucking coupley photos with the most generic captions. But, to your complete relief, nothing had yet been posted by Jake or Maya (yes, you followed her now–for no other reason but to torture yourself). Just as you were about to check your Ovia app for the second time that day, you heard your Grandpa clear his throat. 
You just acted oblivious, though, not wanting to look up unless he actually wanted to talk. Didn’t want to push him or anything. . . poke the bear. 
“Sugarplum,” he started, using the nickname he’d penned for you years ago. 
Your heart lightened at the nickname. Anytime he used it, you knew he was about to say something sweet and slightly outside of his comfort zone. And by that, it meant he was going to say something particularly tender and sweet. Two things he was not used to being. . . Save for the heart he’d had when he started using the nickname. It had come at a sensitive time. 
The nickname came from a precious tradition. After you’d come to live with them, he’d started the tradition. The man had been determined to make you and your sister feel better, and he’d always been better with actions than words. So, the year your sister and you had come to live with them, he’d started taking you to the Nutcracker. It was a whole thing. 
Every Christmas season, your family of four would get all dolled up (you and Elsie, having had matching Christmas dresses and ringlet curls–hair-sprayed to the point of crunchy– the first couple of years). Then, you’d go eat at Carmine’s before attending a performance of the Nutcracker ballet – always at David H. Koch Theater. 
You weren’t sure what he was about to say, but the nickname always meant it was going to be rather softhearted.
“Sweetie,” he sighed. You looked at him, seeing every wrinkle and age spot on his worn features. His face held every ounce of compassion you were sure he could muster. Your eyes already teary at the cold, snowy memories you’d just re-lived, and seeing him in such a vulnerable state had you gasp just slightly. “I love this baby. I love you. And I am so happy for you–overjoyed,” he said, singing it in the tone of the Stevie Wonder tune. You gasped on another breath, a tear springing from your eye to cheek. “Very, very much so, honey.”
“Really?” You couldn’t help but mutter.
“With all my heart I mean it,” he confirmed, eyes crinkling at the edges with a smile in them. “I only get short-tempered about the father because I don’t want to witness the child being abandoned or betrayed by men the way you and Elsie–,” he shook his head, draining a thought he was in the middle of. He grunted, eyes glassy when he looked at you again. “I don’t need this baby’s father being absent like yours was, is all. I get infinitely resentful on the subject of the people who did you and your sister wrong. . . and I just can’t have that for my great-grandchild either.”
There was no response you could possibly give save for the intermittent sniffles that accompanied the tears that wetted your cheeks. So, all you did was nod, a shaky smile on your lips. The man deeply loved you. You knew that. But, it made your heart hurt in a strange way when he’d say things that truly proved it. . . since he so rarely did. The baby must have meant a lot to him already, for him to feel so inclined to bare his heart like this. 
“I love that child and I will protect it in my role as long as I can,” he said, his own voice wobbling on the words. “I promise you, Sugarplum. Just like I did for you and your sister.”
After a couple of moments, you found something to say, out of the mess of emotions hugging your heart. 
“This baby’s father will be nothing like ours,” you said, without a doubt. You barely remembered the man who’d helped make the two of you. He hadn’t ever really been around–a sperm donor at best. “He’s an incredible man. The baby is very lucky to have him.”
The words pinched your chest, your stomach twisting tight on what you’d said. . . Jake was so wonderful. Even if he didn’t want you, he wanted the baby. You knew that. You knew it. You had seen it in his eyes the moment you’d said the baby was his. Jake Kiszka was special and you were glad your baby would be part of him–was already part of him. You were glad the baby had him.
You just weren’t ready to tell your grandparents it was him. . . you didn’t want either of them to unrightfully judge Jake if they were to know. Especially your Grandfather. . . they’d had such an honest, genuine connection. It had been magical to witness. Jake, having been the person to bring the old man out of his shell for the first time in your entire life. 
You knew you had to tell them soon, but it just didn’t feel like the right time quite yet. . . There was so much going on already. The two of them finding out the identity of the baby’s father could wait just a little longer. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
You got home around eleven o’clock that night, after taking Elsie to Josh’s. The night had been exactly what your soul needed. Time with your Grandma and Grandpa, as well as a car jam session with Elsie on the way to her boyfriend’s apartment. 
The reason you’d finished so late was because your grandparents hadn’t really wanted the night to end. After sitting through every end credit of A Christmas Story, you’d rented the brand new A Christmas Story Christmas on the Roku TV you’d Christmas-gifted the two elderly people a year ago. 
Although, you hadn’t ended up paying much attention to the movie since your grandparents had been determined to hear all about Elsie’s travels and your current. . . predicament. They had also questioned you about school.
Thankfully, you’d given a few barely-there answers and the conversation had basically concluded on that subject. There hadn’t even been an onslaught of career-based questions. All of the baby-related inquiries had been a good distraction from that. 
They’d even stayed up past their bedtime of nine o’clock, aiming to hear every last detail of your life and Elsie’s. But, there’d come a point that your Grandpa had fallen asleep as he’d tuned out, signaling the end of the evening. 
So, at 11:00, you were finally pulling in to the apartment complex, safe and sound into your designated parking spot. Jake’s car was where he usually parked it, you noticed. But, you already knew he was home. He’d texted about an hour back asking when you’d be home, to which you’d responded with an I don’t know, a little flutter in your tummy as you typed. 
Even though he hadn’t responded, it didn’t crush you. Truly. You were becoming accustomed to your present relationship with him. . . well. . . .at least you were really trying to become accustomed.
On the way up to the apartment, you barely made the last step with how utterly exhausted you were. The act of carrying a child was not easy work and honestly, your grandparents hadn’t been the only ones staying up past their bedtime. You’d kept the heavy-lidded blinking at bay at your childhood home, but as you unlocked the door, you let out a long yawn which felt like it’d been waiting for hours to be released. Because it had been. You hadn’t wanted to be rude while engaging in conversation. Felt so relaxing and the action in and of itself had totally drained you. Your comfy, cozy bed was calling you.
When you entered the apartment, you were assaulted by the wondrous smells of something sweet and sugary–the scent was closely comparable to cake or cupcakes. You almost let your nose drag you to the source, but when you looked into the kitchen on your trek to your bedroom, you hastily decided against that idea. And you suddenly felt like you were going to profusely vomit. 
Jake, with his back facing you as he leaned against the kitchen island, his fingers grasping at nothing, only gripping what he could of the counter his ass was pressing against. His beautiful locks of hair were all stringy and messy–the telling sign of hands having been run through it. His moans were enough to make you grow chills from both distaste and lust. The sound of him reaching his release was unlike any other. . . 
But the infuriating fact that it was coming from the tanned, curvaceous woman on her knees in front of him. Who, unfortunately, you could see from the side of the island. And to make matters worse, she was barely fucking clothed. A tiny sheer dress of black lingerie, the only thing you could see from your vantage point. She had her free hand bunched into the material at the back of his gray t-shirt, holding onto him for dear fucking life as she went to town.
When the bile rose to your throat, you knew you had to get away before you threw up. You did not want to puke up any Thanksgiving food, thank you very much. Couldn’t ruin the sentimental dishes only because of Jake and his frustratingly beautiful girlfriend. 
To your relief, once you made it to your room, quiet as a mouse, you found your Stanley as cold as you’d left it (praises-fucking-be for Stanley insulation). And you didn’t have to force sleep after you’d taken a quick makeup wipe to your face and put on an oversized Pratt t-shirt. 
The moans and groans and whiny-fucking-sighs from the kitchen faded out in no time as sleep almost instantly found you. 
Thank fucking God for the tiredness that came with making a human. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: see you tomorrow w part 2... Friendsgiving will kick off pt 2... there is so much to come ;)
ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98
(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)
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hotpinkstars · 2 months
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Can i have eula,kujou sara and navia reacting to their s/o who endured a lot and manages to rise from the ashes time and time again?
-> destruction, a vicious cycle
synopsis -> no matter what, you can never catch a break. being brought down, rebuilding yourself, and being brought down all over again is your cycle of life.
a/n -> my first official request yayyy!! ah i was so happy when i saw this in my inbox because i'm only creative when it comes to drawing i seriously cannot think of anymore prompts..... anyways everybody feel free to send some in fhajdkdkks they'll likely get done by same/next day!! sorry if this was misinterpreted i cannot focus on anything rn and it's been like this for the past few days
warnings -> mentions of injury, reader showing evident signs of wanting to give up, crying, mostly angst
w/c -> 1.3k
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eula 
she gets that feeling. more or less better than anyone else you know would. considering her horrific past, she would wake up and go into the day blindly, not knowing what there is to come for the next string of long hours. she’s been rejected by monstadts people, by her own family. 
so when you express your feelings to her, she gets it. but she’ll still do her best to comfort you anyways. 
so, she started paying more attention to the things you do and the interactions you have with people.
the first time she witnessed something was when you had tried oh so hard to gain the trust of the acting grand master, jean, just for it to all crumble down due to a silly rumor that an immature guard decided to spread around the favonius headquarters. it had caused a lot of backlash on your part from the cities residents and from all of the knights and the vision holders that are affiliated with them. 
and then, once you regained her trust and worked day and night to get the residents on a good t with you, your family decided to shame you for no reason whatsoever, and bringing another issue you worked to fix for yourself into your life.
it felt rather draining, being unable to catch a break. one thing after another, one day at a time. life felt like a cycle to you at this point. 
whether you had a brutal injury in combat and had to work endlessly (or at least to what felt like it) to prove your strength to yourself and the world once more or simply had to regain trust, you were genuinely tired. 
so, eula tries to take the burden. at first, she tries to take in entirely, but you both knew that wouldn’t be possible. she wasn’t the one injured, or the one who was mere seconds from being roughly escorted out of the city. she couldn’t necessarily shoulder that without being the one in the position. 
but what she could do was allow you to cry and express your emotions to her when you’re in the safety of your own home. you both knew that she wouldn’t turn on you for your life cycle. she was the only person you felt you could genuinely trust at the time and you felt really grateful to have someone as wonderful as her. 
she’s been making it much easier for you to live now, and she’ll proceed to do so throughout the rest of the time the world gives you two. 
kujou sara
you understood she didn’t have much time to listen and understand what your life is like, and all of the traumatic and upsetting stories that go with your name. she’s constantly out, fulfilling her loyalty to the esteemed shogun and leading over the tenryou commission, and she doesn’t come back until late most nights, if she even does come back. you completely understand what she does and why it’s so important, and she always tries so hard to make you feel loved and that she has time for you. 
but you haven’t had that chat about yourself with her yet. and you don’t know when you will.
she first picks up on something being not right when you came home, trying so so hard to fight back tears and nearly failing. you excused yourself to the shower, allowing the tears to spill due to the water muting your cries. 
but she knew. she knew something was up, and she wanted to ask you about it, but at this very moment was one of the first times she thought she couldn’t make up the words to confront you. so when she does, it sounds more like a demand then a question. you both knew that it wasn’t supposed to sound that way.
once you told her, she nodded, getting up and making you some tea to try and soothe you. she didn’t try to pressure you into relaxation, or to tell you to be calm. because telling you that would be unfair. she’s not that way, so why should she force you to be? 
like eula, she’ll keep a close eye on you sometimes. the first time she witnessed what she had at first thought was your downfall, she tried to keep herself composed as you struggled to get the blade out of your stomach. 
it was one hell of a journey to get you back on your feet. not only was this weighing down on you, the thought of disappointing sara or being a burden to her (considering her 5 hour stays at the hospital nearly every single day) haunted you. corrupted your sleep, and corrupted your mind whenever she was helping you through your physical therapy work. 
once you were back on your feet, it seemed like another thing after another happened. you were asked so much out of the citizens of inazuma city, and even yelled at, until you snapped at one of them and it was the headline in the papers. even guuji yae looked into it. then again, you worked to build yourself up again.
no matter how vicious the cycle, you knew you always had sara there to support you. 
navia 
she wasn’t stupid, she knew something was upsetting you, but didn’t want to ask. since the loss of her father she’s learned certain ways to cope, and she just thought you were using your ways to cope, too. 
but she realized it was much more than that.
you two had heard rumors of someone going around and pickpocketing people, taking mora. so, considering she wanted to try and solve such a mystery, she asked you if you’d like to accompany her, and you agreed. 
the person who did it was a fontaine citizen who had been doing this for years to survive. the woman lived on the streets, occasionally stealing food from food stands when they came out, or threatening cafe owners into giving her what she wanted. 
considering the fact that she could be considered mental, she framed you. and you were the one who had to face the repercussions. 
thats when navia really started to realize that this wasn’t the first time something this horrible has happened to you, considering your reaction to the whole situation and how you brushed it off whenever she’d bring it up. you had a 4 month sentence in the fortress, and though it used to be something like 4 years, navia made a deal with wriothesley into shortening it due to false accusation. 
but once you got out of the prison, it seemed you couldn’t catch a break from tragedies. from things you didn’t even know you were doing to things people made up lies about, you felt that you constantly had to prove yourself to the people of the city, to prove that you weren’t a horrible person whose only interest is stealing peoples things and hurting others. 
navia would let you talk for as long as you possibly needed, listening extra hard when you mention some more disturbing topics that you barely got back up from, but managed to anyways. she understood the comparison when you mentioned how it feels like a never ending cycle of devastating events, and how you were tired of always being forced to be the bad guy in situations you didn’t even know were happening half of the time. 
she’ll settle your cries with a nice warm hug (if it gets to the point of crying) and makes sure she can help you in any way you need when another one of these incidents happen. she knows she’ll never be able to make it all go away, but she tries to at least make it less of a weight to carry around when you two are together.
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xvxnux · 1 year
Text
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓻 𝓮 𝓫 𝓲 𝓻 𝓽 𝓱 ,
⠀ ⠀ “sometimes we are killed and we don't realize it
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ so tell me, you're dead rn?”
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( 💬 ) i want to talk about your most recent rebirth. if it doesn't resonate try to choose another option!
the lovers
for some people who chose the lovers card i see that they have gone through a rebirth and others have not yet. but the context of the rebirth of both parts will be the same, have you ever had the feeling that the events are the same and only the characters change? then. rebirth for this pile comes through a passion. basically i see that after a disappointment in love you fell, maybe you missed opportunities because of someone and after that disappointment you tried to get back up. the beginning may have been difficult, today you may feel like you must work hard and there may be regrets in your heart too. after the rebirthing process did you acquire new skills to deal with pain and with your life, your studies, career, dreams? you will be successful. each person has a reason to be reborn and all are valid and understood. and for you who chose this pile and are in love with someone at the moment make sure you take off yours pink glasses and see all the things for what they are, be realistic and spare yourself from people who make it clear that they are not on the same wavelength as you.
the tower
your rebirth happened when you lost an important person in your life, i see that person is on another plane. i feel masculine energy, father, grandfather, brother... (for some people i see that it may have been a change, they – or you moved for far – may have moved to another city or country and for others i see that a family member has died) i feel that it may have been 2 people in some cases. there is something striking about this situation that is still present in you, in the farewell... yes, from a farewell you were never the same and know that you were reborn at that very moment! you may have felt helpless, as if you were numb or as if the ground was cracking under your feet. don't worries, you'll be feel better.
death
for this pile see that rebirth has connection with spiritual awakening. it's like the cards tell me a story. so if you identify with this stack and resonate, pay attention to what i'm going to say next and see which stage you are at right now. "suddenly you realized that you are in a bad way, in such a way that you can no longer control it or understand very much why you feel that way in some moments. it relieves your pain and then you feel a little motivated and hopeful to move on. this motivation will make you more open to things of spirituality, and then you wake up and discover your mediumship (some of you can predict the future) – for some people finally get to know more about a spirit guide –" i see that this awakening tends to improve your life in general. new ideas emerging, new dreams, great partnerships, great friends. do you want to travel, change your room or organize something? you will. positive for the financial, very positive! your rebirth and spiritual awakening are in perfect alignment, your paths are clear.
random: financial problems? connect with your spirit guide, he has something to say to you.
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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 3 months
Note
Drabble request (feel free to say no :) )
(Comic) due to the after events of the book, Ambrosius is in the hospital and feels horrible, physically and mentally, and the treatments they are giving him are making him sick and very anxious, so he asks ballister to visit him in hospital, and plays the whole “hopeless romantic” so that he stays and Ambrosius feels better, but ballister can see right through it, and doesn’t want to admit it, but he visits him anyways.
Yippieee!!! Loved this request as I'm working on a longer Ambrosius Hospital Fic rn \(^^)/
I currently still have one req still in the works because I'm struggling to get it started, but it is on it's way! Anyway I hope you enjoy this drabble :,)
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Ambrosius groaned softly. He had no idea how long he'd been here. The doctors said it had been four days, but he didn't really believe that. The painkillers and heavy antibiotics– and maybe also the brain injury– made time melt together. All he ever really looked forward to were visits from Ballister. Ballister had visited him often when he was still hospitalized, but he was discharged at some point. 
Not like he had any reason to visit Ambrosius. Fuck. Everything was such dogshit. The Institution, the thing he dedicated his whole life to, was gone. The King to whom he swore allegiance was dead. Not that any of that mattered, he'd already been demoted to a grunt rank in the Institution because he fucked up at doing the only thing he was supposed to be good at. 
Nobody respected him. Nobody liked him. Certainly nobody loved him. And on top of that, he felt nothing but pain and nausea and confusion all the time. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to vomit, but he did it often. The antibiotics were tearing his guts apart. The beta blockers made him even more weak and exhausted than he was already. The painkillers disoriented him and didn't even seem to do much, and also worked together with the anticonvulsants to make him sick as a dog. He couldn't help but wish that Ballister had just left him in that facility to be disintegrated instantly.
Why did Ballister save him if he wasn't even gonna be here? Was it just to punish him? What was going to happen to him after all this? With no job, unable to walk, unable to see out of one eye, no home, he'd end up back on the streets. He was terrified and woke up crying constantly. He wanted his Ballister here. He wanted Ballister to hold his hand and kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be okay. As if he had any claim to Ballister at all. 
Eventually he couldn't take it anymore, and he weakly dialed the number in his phone.
Ballister had been a wreck ever since he was discharged. He felt guilty about Nimona and Ambrosius and the town and everything. He wanted to be there for Ambrosius, who at this point was all he had left, but in addition to the pain and mixed feelings he suffered whenever he was around, he feared his presence didn't even help. Whenever he sat with Ambrosius, the man looked so guilty and miserable he couldn't meet his eyes. Making Ambrosius feel like shit about himself certainly wouldn't aid in his recovery. Plus, being in hospitals was more than a little triggering for him. He didn't like to see the pain from the worst day of his life reflecting off Ambrosius's face.
But standing around this empty warehouse, without Nimona's snark or laughter, barely felt like anything either.
He jumped when his phone rang with Ambrosius's number. “Hello?” 
“Hiii…” the voice on the other end was weak. “I've missed you, darling.” 
Ballister cleared his throat. “Ambrosius, you should be resting.” 
“How can I possibly rest without you here? I'm sick and in dreadful shape, and the object of my affection isn't even here to distract me with his handsome face.” 
Blushing, Ballister looked down. More guilt, fun. Obviously he was high as a kite while also being at rock bottom. It was obvious what he was doing. He was playing it like he was being cute and flirty, but he was groveling. He was prone on the floor groveling for Ballister’s attention. For him to be there, to hold his hand.
“My darling, if only I could hear your voice and see your face, I certainly would feel better. If you're not busy, that is.” 
Ballister snorted. He never could resist Ambrosius's begging. 
He arrived at the hospital an hour later, and he swore a blue light flickered behind Ambrosius's eye when he saw him. “You came!” He smiled as broadly as he could without ripping the stitches in his cheek. 
“Of course, I couldn't leave my… my beloved gentleman caller all by himself, could I?” He smiled and took his hand. Ambrosius squeezed it.
“I'm happy you're here.” His voice was exhausted. His face said so many things his mouth couldn't.
Ballister stroked his hair. “I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid.”
“If I go to sleep, will you stay? Will you hold my hand until I wake up?” 
A lump caught in Ballister's throat. “Of course I will.”
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aha-chuu · 9 months
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My thoughts on the Fontaine characters rn (pre 4.0)
I saw someone making a post about their thoughts and they were tragically wrong and I disagreed. So here I am, being opinionated.
I'm not gonna discuss leaks, I'm just talking about the character designs and what lore we know from the trailer and teaser :))
Lyney
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So, Lyney is great. I love that he's kind of sussy, and his teaser that recently came out is almost... Sinister. And yet, he also checks the boxes of being really fun and extroverted! Venti vibes tbh.
Design wise? His animations are the best in the game, hands down. They suit the performance aspect of his character perfectly and are almost enough to make me pull for him.
Tragically, his character design isn't really for me. I think the simplicity works with the bombastic animations, and I'm glad to see he's wearing a reasonable outfit for the job he does (a rarity in Genshin). And yet, I'm a bit too much of a lesbian to be uber interested in the twinky direction his design leans.
Not pulling.
Lynette
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So she's super cute. We have got a lot of cat girls already (I think Lyney should have also been a cat-person tbh) but I love that Lyney isn't actually doing cat things. Like, she's this subdued introvert, no meowing during her attacks or curling up in boxes like Kirara. She's just a person.... Who's also a cat.
I like her character design better than Lyney's; the blue just stands out a lot more than his red does, and the big bow is a better centerpiece to her design than Lyney's hat is to his. Plus, her animations are also nice.
We're getting her for free so I likely won't pull, but I am already preparing artifacts to build her on my account.
Freminet
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Have I said how much I like sibling dynamics? These three actually seem pretty close and like they will gasp interact with each other! In comparison to the likes of the Kamisatos, this is miraculous.
I know several people who love this guy, and I do think he looks good. I saw some complaints about his hair cut (I think it's adorable), and the chunky boots & coat really serve to emphasise his awkwardness without sacrificing aesthetics.
Unfortunately, he's a physical claymore character, so it's a big skip from me.
Focalors/Furina
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Well she's a brat huh. I worry after Raiden that they'll destroy Furina's character arc in order to make her more palatable, but I want her to go full Marie Antoinette. All the lore with the Oceanids disliking her and the general stuff about using the court for entertainment make me very interested in her.
As a design, I just dislike the twin tails. I love the blazer and the huge gem and the hat that's actually a crown!! Like, Furina is extravagant and over the top, obviously self obsessed - she looks perfect in that regard.
Since she's the archon and she's Hydro, she'll probably be broken meta wise. I'll likely pull, but mostly to make cool teams with her, not because she's a fave of mine specifically.
Neuvilette
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... Father?
FR though, I understand why several people are crazy about this man. I do wish he looked a bit older since that's sort of where his characterisation is - he's done with Furina's shit and he's doing all the actual work of running Fontaine. With the elf ears, I expect him to be some sort of long-life species - he has no visible Vision and his hair kind of looks oceanid-like, so I figure he's not actually human. That along with the slits in his eyes. I hope he turns out to be older than Furina, and that he has a kind of reluctant dad & spoiled daughter relationship with her; we do see him tell her off in the teaser.
Neuvilette is the most feminine tall man character and the hair is a great aspect of the design. The colour palette is good and I do like the robes since he's a Judge, however I think it might get a bit boring to look at when you're playing as him - which is probably why the hair is so dramatic, in order to bring interest to the design.
He'll probably be Hydro and he'll probably be a catalyst based on that outfit (it's not exactly maneuverable enough for anything else ':))). I am interested in pulling almost a 100%.
Wriothesley
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Another man???
I don't understand people talking about the lack of husbandoes in Fontaine, like look at these fine gentlemen.
We don't have much official info on Wriothesley so I'm gonna dip a little into leaks here, skip if you don't wanna know. He is some sort of prison warden which I bop with - it's an expected expansion on the justice landscape of Fontaine. He's on the rough side of the Fontaine infrastructure, in comparison to most of the other characters. That interests me since it feeds more into the duality themes of Fontaine, though currently we're unevenly biased rn to the more santized characters.
Design wise he's one of my favourites. White/black/red looks so good, as does his kind of punk esque chains. The tie puts me off somewhat, like he looks sort of smart and put together, but then the rest of the design undercuts that.
Leaks say Wriothesley is a physical standard banner five star. This fills me with fear. I also don't know what his actual personality will be, so let's say I'm undecided on pulling him.
Charlotte
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I liked her personality and en VA in that one TCG event, unfortunately much like that event, Charlotte looks boring. She's cute, whatever, but she doesn't seem particularly story relevant and her design hasn't captured me.
I'm just not that interested.
Sigewinne(?)
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Okay, she's cuter than Charlotte she's a sea slug person so immediately more interesting. She was also hanging out with Wriothesley, which is so adorable considering how different they seem.
We're dipping back into leaks here, but it seems like she might be another Hydro healer. I've seen people annoyed by this, but I'm perfectly fine with it - I don't have Kokomi and I like Nilou bloom as much as the next person.
If Sigewinne is a four star, I hope she's on a banner for a cool five star.
Navia
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I know a lot of people like this woman. Taylor Swift etc (I am not overly into Taylor Swift), but I think Navia could be cool.
I find her design overcrowded. I do think this suits the fact that we're playing with French Revolution ideas and she's part of the bourgeoisie, so ofc she's overdecorated and elaborate in her fashion. Even though it makes sense, I still don't like the arsthetic of it.
On the other hand, I do like the yellow - it's not a colour we see in too many Genshin designs. I don't really like how it fits with the blue jewellery though.
Personality wise, I worry a bit that she's gonna be our waifu bait, but they did Dehya's characterisation really well without falling into that trap. Navia could be very fun and I think there's a lot of promise in the idea that she might be a class traitor, teaming up with us against the Fontaine government (wow Genshin loves a corrupt government huh).
Will I pull? She's a geo claymore user and my triple crowned Itto is already collecting dust. That's a no from me.
Clorinde
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Everyone say hello to my wife:
(I'm waiting)
I've seen so many people mad at Clorinde when I think she looks great. Her outfit is simpler than is typical for Genshin, but that's cos she's a no-nonsense fighter type! Like how we saw with Lyney, more muted designs often mean more dramatic animations, and we already saw Clorinde doing some dynamic fight stuff in the trailer.
She really interests me in that she's a champion duellist, strong enough that even Childe wants to fight her. We see Clorinde works directly beside Neuvilette in the trailer, so she must be high up in position. A gun and a sword? She's trying to kill Navia, but the Devs describe their relationship as "complicated"??
Clorinde is an Electro woman and these are always queer fyi.
I hope she's pretty straight laced, but not quite in the Sara way. She's boring tbh, mostly because she is always answering to someone else, and she gets so little screen time. For Clorinde to work, I think she needs to have independence and apt presence in the story to be explored - not just a prop/obstacle.
Her personality makes me fearful, but rn I'm pulling 100%.
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gaspshichat · 16 days
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hi chat. pearl made me cry at 9:30 in the morning so y'all know what time is it. warning there will be swears [i say the f word ☹️] bc i haven't slept but i'm somehow not sick rn which. hasn't happened in weeks
[and a quick health update: pretty sure i have narrowed down what's making me sick to three possible things. i'm hopefully seeing my doctor soon bc the refill on my meds expires in june. we're so close and i haven't been able to breathe]
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OH MY GOD. Y'ALL. IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING ME AND SOMEHOW AREN'T A PEARL FAN. HOW ???? GO. GO BE A PEARL FAN. IT'S A THREAT
pearl is funny and kind and caring. there is a reason i gave her 10k bits the other day. she deserves the entire world and more. i don't know what the world did to her that made her so kind
i'm not the only one who has a message though !! here are a few messages from people but i've seen so many in reblogs and tweets and whatnot
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from my lovely partner tay aka twitter user PandoraRxse: I can’t catch streams very often but your videos always make me smile and I always look forward to a new upload. Keep doing what you’re doing, you’re amazing Pearl
from lovely twitter user SKYBL1NGS: shes like genuinely super funny and has great content that everyone can get into and shes really pretty and i loce pearlecentmoon
from a lovely anonymous twitter user: she is genuinly such an amazing artist, both in minecraft and in real life, all of her art is so lively in a way that i'm not sure how to describe best. also she is such a kind human being :))
from lovely tumblr user sapphicwhimsy: pearl is such a lovely and sweet person. shes SO kind to everyone in chat, new or old, and creates such a lovely environment to hang around in. her streams are the only ones i can sit through fully, and she has SUCH a lovely voice! i could listen to her read the dictionary, because im sure she would make it interesting. she has such a way to make everything interesting! even things like sitting still for thirty minutes can be something interesting in a pearl stream, because shes always got such amazing things to say. shes absolutely beautiful, inside and out, with a kind soul that matches her through and through. the fact that she always tries to read everyone out personally, and tries to pronounce their names correctly - and accepts corrections wholeheartedly - is so nice. and shes so wonderfully accepting to all of her community, and always has well wishes for everyone. shes truly a very wonderful and accepting person, who deserves the world! honestly the sweetest person ive ever came across.
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anyway onto the next part of why i made this post
HOW THE FUCK IS SHE SO PRETTY. WHAT. IT'S GENUINELY UNFAIR. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD BE A GODDAMN SCULPTURE
LIKE COME ON. I WISH I COULD DRAW SO I COULD DRAW HER. SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. WHAT THE HELL. LOOK AT HER
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featuring other GORGEOUS women. my god. i am so
anyway :)) it took me an hour and a half to write this bc i kept getting distracted. in short. pearl is so amazing and wonderful. it's weird how she remembers things about me and actually cares ???
also. SHE PRONOUNCED MY NAME CORRECTLY ???? I'VE HEARD SUCH TERRIBLE PRONUNCIATIONS BUT PEARL. SHE SAID IT RIGHR FIRST TRY. WHAT. i kind of want to hear how karn would attempt to pronounce it
[bc yes. i'm okay with anyone, including streamers, calling me vyren. you know me better than my dad does. it's okay to call me vy, vyren, gasp, or gasps]
sleepy brain wrote this post and i want to say so much more but i can't. i had a better message when i did my 10k bits message but that thing is long gone. the only way pearl knows about those bits is if she sees this
and to her community: i love y'all. y'all are lovely. thanks for helping make my shitty life a little brighter. the world may not be kind to me, but y'all are. thank y'all for that. y'all are so lovely
pearl, if you see this, sending all the love to you and your three cats. and yes. karn is the third cat
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mswyrr · 7 months
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why didn't Lan want to transfer the bond to Nynaeve in s2?
I've read some comments questioning his love for Nynaeve due to how quickly he rejects the idea and I really disagree. I think he rejects it precisely because he loves her. Because he is the deeply loving man Nynaeve is falling in love with and a person of honor who is worthy of her.
1) He's going through a trauma along with Moiraine (though he wasn't the one Ishamael assaulted, he is deeply linked to M, traumatized by the loss of the connection that has been his family and the purpose of his life for 20 years, and she is behaving horribly toward him) and he feels like a failure. The person he trusts most in life literally just told him he's a failure. He believes Nynaeve deserves so much better than to take on a failed Warder as a commitment for life. He feels like damaged goods. He knows she WOULD take him on, because she has a compassionate heart and feels for him. But he wants better than that for her.
He's in his 40s and she's 26 - he should have scruples about not imposing on her good heart and taking advantage. (I'm not against age gap romance, but if the older partner is a decent person they will have real scruples to consider. Those valid scruples are all mixed up in his head with the trauma and bad self-image stuff he's going through IMO.) From his pov, he's been told she will soon be a powerful Aes Sedai. With that status she will have her pick of the very best, young Warders - she has her whole life ahead of her, why should she be saddled with an old failure?
Why should she bond to Lan and share in his shattered heart and grief and be weighed down by that and then, in a few decades, Lan won't be able to physically protect her like a Warder her own age or younger would? When he will die much sooner? She'd have to then experience grieving him when she could be building a lifelong bond with a younger, fresh Warder without all his baggage.
I don't agree with his pov, but I think this likely played into his thinking and why he rejects the idea immediately.
2) It's sadly a common thing that men are more likely to leave women partners who become terminally or chronically ill. Put simply: Lan isn't a piece of shit like that. He's better than that. He doesn't treat women like they're interchangeable parts - if one breaks, just swap her out for another and forget about her. He means his platonic commitment so much - which speaks to the kind of man he is and how much he will mean the romantic commitment he makes to Nynaeve. He's a man of quality and honor. His commitments are actually worth something.
The kind of man who would leave his 20 year long platonic partner to just suffer and die while he walks off wouldn't be worthy of Nynaeve, whose own heart is so loving and true. (edit: Distancing himself for his own emotional safety and finding other ways to get Moiraine support would be different - if he'd, say, told Siuan about what was going on but chosen not to return to M himself and/or reopen the bond - choosing forgiveness is going above and beyond, but not just leaving someone and swapping them out immediately is a decency thing)
3) Narratively, IMO it's for the same reason Siuan and Moiraine are in conflict rather than together right now - the romantic resolutions are going to be very grand and fireworks (Nynaeve was only starting to fall in love with Lan when she blazed like a sun to save his life - this show is very romantic! Unlike a lot of US shows rn it respects romantic love) and they're being saved for later. In both romances, they're currently separated due to how much they love each other, not how little.
BOOK SPOILERS BELOW
4) We know they get a canon happily ever after!! We know she will hold his bond one day - and presumably as a consensual act of joy and commitment. Doing it now, in this way, would taint it and hurt both of them. It has to be right - the timing and where they're both at. It has to be freely chosen.
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 12 days
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Nash and Xander hc?
nash and xander head canons
i'm literally so in love with both of them, and i need more of them (jlb im begging). might be shitty bc my period is making me want to dig my own grave rn and bury myself (also not proof read)... hope you like them<3
xander will ramble to nash about his inventions
nash helps him saw wood pieces and things for his gadgets bc xander won't admit it but he's scared of saws.
at first, when xander first started hanging out with his father, nash would follow him to make sure nothing bad happened.
nash tried to teach him how to drive, but xander is crazy behind the wheel so nash gave up
when they were younger, xander used to love it when nash would give him piggy back rides
nash would not let anyone touch xander when he was a baby. he held him all the time and didn't want to let him go
xander will visit nash at the bar when he doesn't come home for a few weeks bc he hates when he isn't home. nash always feels bad and goes back
nash read him bedtime stories (he still does)
xander surprises him with taylor swift merch or gadgets he created that are taylor swift themed or smth (idk what this could be but we all know that xander would make them hand made gifts) (nash is canonically a swiftie)
they make memes together/send each other cringy memes
nash installed a mini fridge in xander's lab and stocks it up regularly to make sure xander eats
nash will sometimes find xander sleeping in his lab, and will somehow manage to carry him up to his room.
xander was nash's best man at the wedding and nash was his.
they'll wake each other up by blasting taylor in their speakers (cause they totally have speakers in their rooms)
both avid romance readers who host a monthly book club with grayson (nash is more of a fan of contemporary romance whilst xander is more into dystopian and stuff)
xander didn't have many friends when he was younger bc of how much of a nerd he is. nash used to pick him up from school and take him to lunch.
when xander was younger, he was afraid to be himself bc of the hate he received online (as a literal child, also xander said people have hated him his entire life so..). nash used to encourage him to be who he wanted to be by buying him things he could use in his lab or stuff like that. nash is the reason why xander isn't ashamed of himself.
xander used to hide under nash's bed and try to scare him when he was younger
he would get nash to check if there were monsters in his closet when he was like 5.
nash used to help him study for his tests (not bc he needed it but he liked being around him (same goes for xander))
nash got xander to teach him how to bake so that he cold bake libby little treats.
they have staring competitions when xander does something nash doesn't approve of or thinks is dangerous. the one who loses basically admits that the other is right. nash pretty much always wins.
xander takes pride in being taller than nash (xander - 6'3 and nash - 5'11 (i think)). he'll walk up next to him and pass his hand over his head and then over nash's to flex (idk if this makes sense)
nash taught xander how to twerk after his bachelor party.
xander was aware of how nash felt like he had to keep this whole family going when he was younger. he used to cuddle up next to nash at night to try to make him feel better.
they like going out and buying tiramisu (their dog) little outfits.
xander learned how to make hats to make nash cowboy hats.
xander had a button collection (idk why) when he was younger, and whenever nash used to grow out of his button shirts, he would rip out the buttons and give them to nash
nash is always the first to try out his inventions. xander will call him the second its ready and he'll drop everything to go see xander
xander used to make dances and make nash watch them (he was like 7 and would make a choreography to love story by taylor or smth)
might make a part two for them bc i absolutely love them and need more.
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