#My adhd is acting up and I just want to WRITE

[phoenixinthefiles]

Times like these I really wish this app had a text to speech function:

I’ve been thinking about citzenzhip a lot when it comes to the Batfamily, HEAR ME OUT.

Disclaimer: I am not part of an immigrant family so if anything I say is offensive please let me know

So Dick, Damian, and Cass, were obviously born outside the U.S, WHERE’S THE CHARACTER EXPLORATION FOR THAT?

Like Damian and Dick knew English before coming here but there are still other experiences they definitely would’ve gone through.

Damian probably hated/hates the U.S. He was raised on “you do things perfectly-good-you slip up-punishment” (that’s obviously horrible) but the U.S. and all its systems are oftentimes OVERLY complicated. Can you imagine how hard it would be to go from an abusive, perfectly, structured environment, to one that’s constantly divided over the simplest things?

Not to mention that if we’re going with the backstory of him having lived in the desert for the majority of his childhood, there’d be a massive climate change. Like he’d probably have allergies, and maybe eczema.

Can you imagine finally getting to meet your father and you breakout and nearly asphyxiate because of the air pollution. (Slight hyperbole)

Ra’s Al Ghul is a horrible, abusive man but he’s relatively environmentally conscious (still horrible and abusive)

And with Dick?

If we go off Haly’s Circus being an European traveling circus, and his mother possibly being a French-speaking Roma, we can understand why it’d be difficult for him to adapt to life at Wayne Manor.

You travel 3 hours from London and you end up in Paris. A kid who’s used to that type of learning environment would HATE the American school system. He’s sitting in an uncomfortable desk chair listening to a teacher drone on about something he will never use in his life. When he used to be taught physics, while doing a handstand on the railing of the freaking Ponte de Rialto.

Regardless of potentially having ADHD or not, he’s still fidgeting in his seat—yearning for recess. But because this is America (and likely around the early 2000’s or so) his teacher rudely points out his fidgeting and the rest of the class see the boy that looks different from them, acting differently from them as well. And Children can be cruel.

I can’t imagine the experience of being an extroverted child who is used to forming connections with children, who look different from him, BECAUSE of his talents and uniqueness, being thrust into an environment that discourages that,WHILE HE’S GRIEVING HIS PARENTS.

Also Damian and Dick are both tan/brown skinned, and they’re likely going to a rich private school without a lot of people that look like them. (Gotham Academy did not start gaining a more diverse population until Jason came around and that was the reason he wanted to go to public school[I stand by this headcanon…bcus fiction imitates life])

Not to mention the unreasonable amount of prejudice towards Arabs in this country and others. That’s a rough time for a 8-11 year old who JUST moved here and already has a disconnect with his peers due to his abuse and forced maturity.

SO, SO much I’ve said and so, so much I still haven’t. I haven’t even BEGUN to talk about Cass and how difficult it had to be to come to THIS country not being able to understand spoken language at all? She was a teenager when she met Bruce but that just makes different, not better.

Once again I am Black, so while I have experience as a minority in this country, I have no experience with being an immigrant so if I have said something offensive do NOT hesitate to let me know.

Also does this count as me writing something? Probably not huh?

@vhscity idk if you want to read my rant with horrible grammar mistakes.😭😭

[berylcups]

La Squadra X Reader: Love Languages HCs

CW: Sex mention, death mention, self esteem issues, masculine provider mentality

Notes: Hey, this one was a doozy! Hopefully my ramblings is understandable! I based this one off of the 7 love languages. the 7 love languages discussed are:

❤️Activity

❤️Appreciation

❤️Emotional

❤️Financial

❤️Intellectual

❤️Physical

❤️Practical

Either way I hope you enjoy! 💜Beryl

source: https://imbetween.org/episode161/

Risotto-🖤

What’s their Love language?: Activity & Practical 

How do they show it?:

Risotto doesn’t get much time to relax but when he does he wants to spend it with you. He’d show you by making an authentic Sicilian dish that you haven’t had before and watch some scary movies afterwards. If you get frightened you can always cling on to him and he’ll wrap his big arms around you to keep you safe!  He’d also be interested in what you’re into. Especially if its something relaxing like painting or sculpting…Maybe even something physical like swimming.  He’d probably be indifferent to videogames. He enjoys watching you play them rather than playing them himself. He prefers story over gameplay, and watching you get frustrated and curse at the tv every time you make a mistake makes him chuckle so he's definitely enjoying himself.

He also likes to show his love through actions. He prefers to take care of the more challenging tasks like doing the oil change on your car, changing your tires, changing the light bulbs from the places you can’t reach, and fixing that leaky pipe. He’ll also take care of some other tasks, instead of you cooking he’ll bring home take out, and make a nice bubble bath for you both to relax in afterwards. If you’re forgetful or have ADHD he’ll remind you to take your medication and write down your daily tasks so you don’t forget anything. He’ll be sure to help you sort out your medication for each day in your pillbox too to help you remember. He has a perfect memory so you’ll never have to worry if you do forget something. He’s always here for you. 🖤

What love language do they like to receive the most?: Practical & Physical 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

He’s always busy with something…what’s a better way to show your love than to take care of him? Make him dinner, run him a bath, do laundry , clean the house, do his paperwork, break up fights between the other guys, and maybe murder on his behalf? Do whatever this exhausted man needs. Just do it. Do it for him. Whatever you take off of his plate he’ll greatly appreciate it! Also you can be assured that every act will be rewarded. He’s very grateful to have you and he's not afraid to express that.

This poor man has never been shown much love so you can bet he’s pretty touch starved. But he’s too aloof to go out of his way to ask for affection so its up to you to give him all the loving he needs. He doesn’t really care if the guys see very small bits of PDA like a quick kiss on the cheek or maybe a pet name or two. He really prefers his affection in private the most though. Take off his hat and brush your fingers through his silver hair and give his head a good scratch, he loves that. Rub his chest and give him lots of kisses, he can’t fight off his blush when you do that! He loves bedtime the most when you’re laying on top of him and he can feel your entire weight on him. It helps soothe him to sleep and puts him at peace even if for a moment in his chaotic life.🖤 

What’s their least favorite form of affection?: 

emotional - Risotto is not a cold hearted person, he just has a hard time processing emotions. When Sorbet and Gelato died he swallowed his grief and tried to move on as if they didn’t exist. He doesn’t have an answer to how he’s feeling right now and how to handle it. He wants to be there for you and to soothe your pain when it comes but he just doesn’t know the best way to comfort you...verbally that is. What he does know though is that he loves you with all his heart 🖤   

Formaggio-🧡

What’s their Love language?: Physical & Appreciation 

How do they show it?:

He’s very handsy when it comes to showing love. It goes beyond hugs and kisses. He loves pinching your cheeks, smacking your ass, squeezing your thighs, and he’s a big groper. 😳 He makes grabby hands and chases you with them laughing like a fucking nutjob. 🙌  

He doesn't care who sees. He lives for the PDA, he loves grossing everyone out and making them jealous that he snagged you and they didn’t. 🤭 

He’s big on the praise and compliments. He won’t give you one minute to doubt yourself because that’s how much he praises you. Did you dye your hair? Get a new piercing? You look hot!  You look a little taller…did you get some new shoes? You look badass! Is that a new drawing you doin’? You’re a good draw-er! He’s always has something nice to say! And don’t forget the pet names he throws on you-. If you didn’t know any better you could almost think he forgot what your name was…but he knows you so well you know that’s not the truth! 🧡

What love language do they like to receive the most?: physical & appreciation 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

Give this man some sugar! Hug him, caress him, kiss him, make out with him, spank him, fuc—you know what he wants! 😳 He don’t care if it’s in public or private, he wants your lovin’. He loves it when you lay your head on his lap while you two watch tv. If you fall asleep on him he’s gonna die from the cuteness. He loves the fact you feel safe enough around him enough to fall asleep near him. 🧡 he likes it too when you put your hands under his mesh shirt and scratch his chest, that will make him purr like a cat, and might make him start acting unwise 😘 so give him scritches at your own risk

Illuso being the shithead he is, loves to make Maggio feel self conscious about his abilities and his stand so be sure to give him lots of encouraging words. Be his cheerleader! (Figuratively or literally he doesn’t mind either way 😅) Let him know how smart he is when he makes a connection during a mission. Let him know how creative and strong his stand abilities are! Let him know how jealous and in awe you are of his skills. Seriously, where does he come up with some of these wild ideas??? Don’t forget to praise him when he does any chores. He’s no slob but he loves flinging his laundry around the place. 😅 Seeing him sort out the dirty clothes and put them in the washer is enough to make your heart melt. He’s thoughtful and helpful so remember to praise and thank him for it. 🧡 His biggest contribution at home is cooking and dishwashing so him doing extra work deserves extra kisses! 💋 

What’s their least favorite form of affection?:

Intellectual - Formaggio respects your opinions on things but he’s not someone interested in big philosophical discussion or debates. Don’t let his carefree nature fool you! He’s a very smart man but he just doesn’t like to take life so seriously. He’ll ask for your opinion if he isn’t sure about something but big conversations like the meaning of life or the study of _____ just isn’t in his interests. He much rather enjoy the moment of you two being together and enjoying activities with one another! 

Illuso-❤️

What’s their Love language?: Financial & Appreciation 

How do they show it?:

It’s unknown whether he stole it or actually bought it…but isn’t it just the thought that counts? He always brings you things like jewels, perfume, makeup, jewelry…small things that remind him of you. He’s actually very thoughtful ❤️ he got you a shirt that reminded him of your favorite aesthetic the last time. He somehow knows the right size for you every time. He says he knows your body better than you do~ 😘 flirty dork. 

He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to give out compliments that aren’t backhanded, but with you they are very much genuine. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. Did you get a haircut? Change up your makeup? You look gorgeous!-but you always look great regardless.❤️ Did you make dinner? If instagram existed in the early 2000s he’d be taking pictures of the food you made and be asking for seconds! 😋 Did you clean the house? You’re getting a BIG thanks for that- he HATES washing the windows! 

What love language do they like to receive the most?:

Appreciation & Physical 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

He doesn’t look like it but once you get to know him he clearly has a weak self esteem. That’s why he puts others down to make himself feel better. ❤️‍🩹 But that isn’t working so show him some love by complimenting and praising him often. Tell him how gorgeous he is, take notice of how much effort he puts into his appearance! Let him know how helpful and strong his stand is. He’s secretly sensitive about MITM being physically weak. Praise him for whenever he decides to help you around the house. He may be smug and get pompous at times but he really loves your appreciation. He may not say it verbally but he will thank you for your sweet words. 😘

Show him your love! He loves seeing the others get jealous seeing you give him a peck on the cheek or if you’re tall enough on top of the head. 🥰 He doesn’t mind some light PDA in front of others but in private please ham it up. Kiss him a lot, snuggle him, smack his butt, whistle at him, be flirty! 🤭 he really loves cuddling on the couch while watching trash reality tv. Cuddle on the couch with a big fluffy blanket while you’re braiding his hair is his favorite thing to do with you. He LIVES for that. 🤩

What’s their least favorite form of affection?: 

activity - it’s not that he doesn’t have interest in your hobbies but he thinks there should be some hobbies that should be spent alone. He thinks time  alone makes the heart grow fonder. And…he thinks you wouldn’t be very interested in his hobby of people watching… 👀  you of all people know how nosey he is! He has a very niche type of hobbies…usually with him hiding in the mirror realm watching unsuspecting people doing embarrassing things. But he’s more than willing to watch trash reality TV with you. 🤭

Pesci-💚

What’s their Love language?: Emotional & Practical

How do they show it?: 

He’s a big empath who’s intune with your emotions. If anything is amiss he can feel it. If you’re nervous or sad he’s here for you. If you’re happy he’s happy! He’ll do anything to make you feel secure. He gives the biggest, warmest hugs. 

He likes to show love through his actions. He does all the household chores: he does the dishes, cleans the floors, dusts, cooks for you, make the bed, do the laundry, and anything else that comes to his mind. He doesn’t want you to worry about a single thing when you come home after a day of hard work. Be sure to show him plenty of gratitude!

What love language do they like to receive the most?:

Emotional & Appreciation 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

Show him your support whenever he feels anxious or overwhelmed! The poor boy is always pushed to his limit under Prosciutto’s mentoring. Listen carefully to him if he needs to talk out his frustrations and validate his feelings. Let him know you’re here for him no matter what. 💚 Give him a big hug and wipe away his tears when he’s feeling extra vulnerable. He’s not a mammoni . He’s a strong big man 🥺

Another way to show him love is by showing appreciation often. Compliment him a lot and praise him for nearly everything he does. He has self confidence issues so it’s up to you to uplift him! Tell him how strong he is, how good he looks today, how smart he is, and how helpful he is. 🥰  praise him all the time! Be genuine with it and give him a big hug and kiss on the cheek with it. It will really cheer him up. 💚

What’s their least favorite form of affection?:

Practical - this sweet boy appreciates your efforts but he doesn’t want you to overwork yourself! Let him take care of you. It makes him fret when he sees you exhausted and trying to wash the dishes. He worries about you overworking yourself and you end up becoming depressed, anxious, or coming down with a cold. If you’re overworked your immune system is at risk and he doesn’t want you risking your health!

Prosciutto-💛

What’s their Love language?: Financial & Emotional 

How do they show it?:

There’s nothing too expensive when it comes to you. Clothes, jewelry, food, and a house? He buys it all! He won’t let you know how much it costs, he doesn't care how little the boss pays him. He has faith in himself and his teammates that they’ll take down the boss and get all that good money. You haven’t seen how bad he’s going to spoil you once that happens ! He doesn’t want you feeling guilty for a single second for whatever he buys you. He believes it’s his duty to care for you. 

He doesn't look like it but he’s your biggest cheerleader. When you’re feeling down he’ll be there to give you one million reasons why you shouldn’t feel bad and that your mental illness is lying to you, and that he’s always here to put you back together when you break down. 🥺 He’s always sincere when he’s trying to uplift you. He does that sweet little forehead press and makes eye contact with you and caresses your cheek while giving you the biggest pep talk of your life. He’ll pep talk from all things small like psyching you up to make that phone call to make that drs appointment, encouraging you to show off your artwork and creative writing online, to training you up for a dangerous mission. He’s your rock and you can lean on him at any time! 💛

What love language do they like to receive the most?:

Practical & Physical 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

Helping him around the house is a way to make him feel a deep sense of love. Having a home cooked meal, a clean suit, or freshly sweeped floors gives him peace. He doesn’t expect you to be a house spouse but having one of his chores taken care of after he comes home from a rough mission will give you one of his rare smiles. He’ll be mindful of your hard work by eating every single bite off his plate and help clean it off, take his dirty shoes off at the door so he doesn’t make the floor dirty, and take his dirty clothes to the hamper. He’ll always recognize your hard work and thank you for it!

Another easy way to make him happy is to give him a hug and kiss every time he comes and goes. He prefers to not partake in PDA for the most part unless you two are on a date of course but he gladly accepts physical affection. Sit in his lap while he’s having a drink in his favorite chair and give him a big kiss. That will rile him up 😘 

What’s their least favorite form of affection?:

Financial - He’s YOUR provider, you're NOT his provider. He wants to make that very clear. He understands the intention of your gesture and he appreciates the thoughtfulness but he’s here to take care of you! He doesn’t want you to worry about a single thing. Not money, not resources, nothing. He’s very “old fashioned” that he feels the need to be the provider as the Dominant partner. He’s not worried about gender roles, he was just raised to believe that the greatest way for a dominant partner to show their love is to provide. And he loves you very deeply 💛

Melone-💜

What’s their Love language?: Physical & Intellectual 

How do they show it?:

He’s very affectionate and drapes himself over you often like a needy lap cat. He’s always wrapping his arms around you, he’s even learned to type with one hand so he can communicate with BabyFace and still hold you. 😅 he never wants to let go! He even clings to you when you’re in the kitchen cooking not caring one bit that he might get burnt. He’s generous with the kisses too but he tries to be mindful of how much PDA you can tolerate. 😘 

He’s not as big of an info dumper as his icy teammate, but he loves to tell you about his progress with his stand BabyFace. Genetics are his biggest passion so he’s going to tell you a lot about how BabyFace is doing when he’s using them and educates you on each step. He will insist on you sitting right up next to him so you can see the screen and he can point around and show you everything! He gets so excited when he finds a bad match, making for a more lethal Junior. He’ll also talk about astrology and how blood types influence love compatibility. He’s so excited knowing that the 2 of you have compatible signs, it reaffirms his belief that you 2 were made for each other. 💜

What love language do they like to receive the most?:

Physical & Activity 

What’s a good way to show them love?:

Hugs and kisses of course! He’s pretty easy to read. He loves the skin to skin contact when it comes to cuddling after love making. Just simply brushing his hair out of his face while he’s working just melts his heart! He’ll want you to come over and give him some more love but you gotta remind him not to get greedy~. And because you don’t want to gross out the other teammates…unless that’s what you enjoy doing of course. 🤭 

He wants to know everything about you, your date of birth, blood type, astrological sign, your culture, talents, and hobbies. And he wants you to know the same about him! Try to find as much things you two have in common and bond over it! He would enjoy playing video games, watching documentaries, electronics, and probably sci-fi shows. But don’t forget to show him you’re favorite things as well, even if they aren’t his cup of tea he’ll still appreciate them because they are a part of you. 💜 

What’s their least favorite form of affection?:

Financial - He loves the thoughtfulness of you trying to care for him but he rather have you save your money! The boss already gives out such little money you deserve to spend it on yourself! That’s what he believes. He feels guilty enough that he can’t afford to give you everything you want so he doesn’t want you wasting your money on him. He does hope one day once the boss's identity is found out and is eliminated he will be able to spoil you rotten. 💜

Ghiaccio-🩵

What’s their Love language?:  Intellectual & Activity 

How do they show it?:

He’s the king of info dumping. Hope you have your listening ears on! Whenever something makes him excited in a positive way or something that he disagrees with he MUST TELL you about it! That’s a huge sign of affection right there! And it’s something he can do in public so he doesn’t feel embarrassment when he does it. It’s a win win! You’ll know the difference between an info dump and a rant easily by the lack of yelling, and he talks a lot faster. 

Another way he shows affection is by showing interest in your hobbies! Depending on the activity he might want to try it. He’ll play video games with you, watch your favorite tv shows and be mindful of any spoilers, he’ll try jigsaw puzzles, try some physical activities he doesn’t usually do like swimming and tennis. He has appreciation for art and your artwork. He may not do it himself because he’s just so impatient but he likes to watch you do your work or do his own work along with you. 🩵

What love language do they like to receive the most?:

Emotional & Intellectual 

What’s a good way to show them love?:  

Be there for him emotionally! This guy doesn’t want to admit it but he clearly wears his heart on his sleeve! (But don’t tell him that or else he’s gonna rant about that idiom 😰) most of the time his emotions are masked by anger but he feels his emotions very strongly. If he’s having an outburst, listen and talk to him and let him know it’s okay. Validate his feelings but let him know that everything is okay. Explain why things are the way things are or the meaning of an idiom if something has him fuming. If he knows he probably will calm down and even if the explanation isn’t enough ,  having someone to listen to you is soothing. Let him know often that you love him because he fears his anger might make you drift off from him. 🩵 

Another wonderful way to show him love is to do as he does-info dump! Tell him about your hobbies, favorite shows, video games, or your favorite animal. He’ll stop right in his tracks and listen to you enthusiastically info dump. He might not understand everything you’re saying but seeing you excited makes his heart melt. He’ll ask plenty of questions about your passion if he isn’t familiar so he can get to know more about you. He will see it as an opportunity to get closer and to have better future engaging conversations about your favorite topics 🩵

What’s their least favorite form of affection?:

Physical- Ghiaccio is a touched starved man but a little touch goes a long way. Too much touch is overstimulating and makes him overwhelmed. There’s a time and place for a loving embrace- like intimate time and sleep time. If you’re feeling down and need a hug or kiss just ask and he’ll give it! He’s mostly just uncomfortable with the unexpected touches. Ask permission and 9 times out of 10 he’ll say yes…in private of course. But he’s no hypocrite, he asks for your permission too. Especially when it comes to intimacy. 🩵

[pia-writes-things]

This is kind of a vent post so feel free to scroll past it but like.

I have currently 18 chapters, any fics included, to comment. I am 18 chapters late, technically.

And like, when I read something ongoing, especially if it's written by a mutual, I always try to comment, and to do a detail comment thanks to the floaty review box. And this year, I managed to do it until may, I think ?

But after that, I watched the third season of HPI. And it was an absolute shit-show. The last minute of the last episode ruined everything. So now, I have all those emails in my inbox that I don't delete because I want to comment the fics but I just can't do it? Because the idea of reading something that is HPI related just completely blocks me. It drains me emotionally to just think about it. All the missed potential, everything they ruined.

But the thing is, for some reason, it also prevents me from commenting the other fics? Like, I have the exact same feelings toward it even though they're completely different fandoms?

I really hate this feeling. I know commenting is not an obligation, I know I shouldn't feel bad about it, I know all of that. But I still do. Because I love being on the receiving end of comments and I hate myself for not doing that for my friends and fellow writers. Even tho it's not my responsibility. So now, I just feel bad every time I open my inbox.

And the worst is, yesterday and today I did comment some fics. I did. I finally made a dent in the pile. But I still have so many left, and yeah... It's discouraging and it's entirely my fault for feeling responsible even tho I'm not. I hate it.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

.... 

new game, it is just a human thing, an ADHD thing, or a “I’m just weird” thing

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[wickjump]

I don’t know why but I just don’t like ink and underverse didn’t really help change my opinion can you tell me some of his good qualities?

i’m going to tell this to you right now if you ever want to get to know ink as a character do not go to underverse. i love it so so much, but underverse is not canon to him at all and isn’t good to get to know ink in the way he actually is in his canon. so instead im going to blab at you for a while

a lot of people tend to fanonize him as ‘emotionless who doesn’t care about anyone and i’m EVIL’ which is also not him at all, and definitely skews peoples' perspective on him. emotionless ink could never be canon, as ink without his vials turns into what comyet described as a 'husk', unable to function or do anything, much less evil apathetic activities.

the concept of emotionless ink can work with individual stories, but the fandom really messes things up with how they portray him. (all art used here is by comyet and either explicitly canon to ink, or dubiously/half-canon)

literally look at him. that is the face of someone who is not pure evil.

this isn't the fault of the people who write him that way btw, but rather the fandom for being unable to tell the difference between fanon and canon sometimes. anyway, ink appeal:

i, and many other people, enjoy him because the way he acts is very similar to people with autism/adhd. being rude without intending to be so, hyperactive, memory issues, struggles with empathy, social situations, and connection to others, xyz. even little tidbits, like losing his pencils a lot, can be reminiscent of people with poor object permanence often caused by adhd or other disorders (me fr). aaaand, their adhd is actually canon!! he's not intentionally an asshole he's just neurodivergent and cannot read a room for shit!!

for that reason, he's used for neurodivergent people to project onto him. also because his canon story is unique in a way never seen before, just. ever. he expanded the idea of the multiverse in a way that helped allow other people to build on it. so in a way, we owe a lot of the utmv to ink (or comyet for coming up with the idea of him in the first place). i highly recommend you read the comic! it's on comyet's tumblr page, or dubbed on youtube by a few people.

also, to those who say he's completely faking his feelings, what do you think his vials are for? he canonically experiences grief and other strong emotions, even if they're not the same way others’ feelings are. booyah stop making him an asshole i beg i just want one piece of content where ink isnt evil im pleading

^^^^ ink after one of his father figures dies. he tries to cope by saying it's in the script for his au, something ink has sworn himself to protect, despite his grief. he's coping :(

a lot of other people also enjoy ink because of their moral greyness and their priorities being rather interesting. and before you think 'oh thats just underverse': no it is not! ink's priorities are keeping aus on script and protecting them rather than the lives of individual people, however acknowledges them more as people if they're aware of the multiverse (such as his father figures, zephyr and top). otherwise, he views people as characters. ink does not harm people for the sake of harming them, they avoid fighting and would not be abusive or antagonistic for the sake of being an antagonist.

this is actually what influenced the god headcanon, a headcanon where ink is the god of creativity (often paired with error as the god of destruction), as many people interpret this distanced behavior as similar to gods in many media.

his dynamic with other characters is also really interesting, and how he intertwines in their stories. despite none of it being canon to him, he's used in many other stories and he's moldable to each of them. he's canon to dream, while dream isn't canon to him. same with cross! (ok i lied its not all comyet, this art is by jakei (left) showcasing ink in underverse) mind you, this is not canon to ink, only cross/dream respectively. comyet seems fine with this though, and is friends with jakei, creator of underverse (im unsure about joku). ink is a flexible character!

the way he impacts stories that, on his part, aren't canon to him is unique and something generally unseen in other fandoms. even though he and error have never canonically met in either of their stories, their dynamic is so multiversal that regardless of the story, or their relationship in it, 99% of the time their tales are intertwined. the idea that two characters have impacted each other so much despite never canonically being aware of each other, much less meeting, is so appealing. comyet actually made non-canon art of them as friends :)

this is why people who hate errorink for the sole sake of "they hate each other in canon" are incorrect and wrong. comyet also drew ship art of them forever ago which i appreciate so much thank you for the food

ink also has two canon (adoptive) father figures!! i love that for him!! they’re one of very few sanses with two parents. they are the silliest of guys. he's killer but with better morals because he isn't a murderer (its ok i love killer too he can change its all nightmare's fault pls believe me)

also he's french. imaginez être français. épouvantable. /joke (he is french tho)

also, he's canonically he/they and aroace! this is why you see many more qpr headcanons for him than other characters, though some people interpret him in other ways. though he's not non-binary (referred to as a male by comyet several times, even in the same sentence stating his pronouns), just flexible with pronouns, many people also headcanon him to be non-binary or otherwise trans.

overall, i think his appeal comes from how unique he is, how the fandom has expanded upon and used him in so many different ways, and generally his relatability to many neurodivergent people, me included. i love u ink sans.

UGH HES SO COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! consume more content of them where they aren’t pure evil for one reason or another and you'll grow to like them i prommy. he's been screwed over by the fandom so many times

[mysticcrownwolf]

So your girl finally had a autistic meltdown and finally asked her mum about her childhood and got some mixed results but long story short I am finally getting an official autism and adhd diagnosis because in my mums words “Everyone deserves things that make their life easier to live”. Not gonna lie guys I did cried about this but it also came up that they did tried to get me diagnosed before (I don’t remember this at all) but were told I just had very high levels of hyperactivity so to make sure this type of bullshit doesn’t happen again I am making a list of all my weird or quirky traits and having the neurodivergents of Tumblr peer review them so I can finally get a diagnosis after 19 years of struggling.

1) I didn’t ever in my life made or had friends that stick around.

2) I was actually alienated a lot by most people in my life for being the umbrella term they all coined as ‘weird’ what this weird means varies from person to person.

3) I have actually been told by other girls that they gave me a chance to keep them company even after many people told them I was too weird and they should stay away from me. These same people later called me slurs, were self absorbed or just plain abusive towards me.

4) Through out my whole life I have sat alone on a double bench because no one wanted to sit with me in class.

5) I have a problem with properly spelling certain words like I write weird as ‘wierd’ or video as ‘vedio’.

6) People constantly doubt I have any sense of knowledge and act like any good idea I give is a surprise even when I was on the top of the class the phrases like “ That’s the first good idea you ever had” weren’t uncommon.

7) I walk a lot and I mean a lot enough that hyperactivity has still been a part of my diagnostic because I walked so much they had no choice but to put that in. I actually come to the school 30 minutes early then walked the whole time, I would just up and leave classes to walk in corridors because I couldn’t sit still long enough, my walking is such a huge part of me my old teachers still tell their classes about me as the girl that walked too much.

8) People in my college nicknamed me the headphone girl because I walked around our whole campus( I would pace a lot around the parameters) with my only noticeable feature being my headphones.

9) I was the only kid in my school not scared of bugs which lead to some notable incidents

I once picked a small green caterpillar and showed it off to my class of 10 year olds they started crying and teacher made me throw the bug even though I wanted to keep it as a pet

Our teacher once asked us to bring butterflies to class so I captured around 30 butterflies put them in a breathable Tupperware and took those to class me being the only person who did this freaked out all the other children with my butterflies , we later released them all in recess it was very pretty

I not only volunteered but gleefully presented live earthworms on my palm to various groups of parents in our school science fare much to the horrified looks of many parents and children about how a little girl like me wasn’t screaming from handling earthworms.

I scared our class mean girl by capturing a butterfly and then turning my hand holding the butterfly in her direction she and a few other girls screamed when I tried to tell them that the little critter was harmless and even offered to let them hold her (I was very confused why they didn’t like this).

10) I was friends with a lot of my teachers as well as higher class teachers especially the Science, Social studies and English teachers. I would often spend my recess in the biology lab chatting with the biology teacher about the different specimens in the lab and how much I enjoyed biology in general. I am half sure I would have loved to study biology/medicine if not for the fact it was a minimum investment of 7 years though I am still an avid reader of new biological discoveries and follow many niche youtube channels that focus on flora and fauna.

11) I was actually friends with all 3 principles in my school and would go to them after my last class to chat about my school day. This was so bizarre to others but I actually enjoyed how much these adults would listen to my info dump even if my own peers won’t.

12) Every single time my report card came I would usually top the class in most subjects except maths in which I usually underperformed ( don’t worry guys I figured out later I just need to know every basic concept to get the deep understanding of mathematical principles which my teachers were very bad at build but I later learned how to do it myself) but it would always have in big bold letters that “I talked to much and have weird questions and am disruptive in class ” which my bad I thought I could get details about what your are teaching and develop great interest but nah we just need to complete the syllabus as fast as we can. Salt on the wound I would only ask questions and discuss topics in class with the teacher since I don’t have friends I could talk to in class. They deadass never ever punished a single student from disrupting in class except me the girl who asked silly questions about what we were studying maybe they thought my questions were weird so I was asking them to disrupt they flow of the class rather than genuine curiosity who knows

13) I had very bad anger issues stemming from how the system as well as authority figures treated me ( I have since been to therapy and gotten help for it ) but a lot of time I verbally and physically attacked an authority figures usually when they punished me for something I didn’t do or when they tried to empty out their frustration on me or tried to bully me in anyway. I never took bullying face down from anybody be it younger or older than me my flight or fight response was always on fight

14) People did tried to bully me physically or verbally but I always returned it in kind with interest so it never really stuck like the isolation did. My most memorable experience with bullying was when I bitch slapped our school mean girl so hard the whole ground heard it , I don’t think I ever got any punishment for it and she later burned every friendship she had by throwing her whole group under the bus for some vandalism they did.

15) I unfortunately never had friends so when they school told me telling an authority figure I am being teased, harassed or even that someone is breaking the rules is what’s morally right I ran with the rules set for me rather than knowing the social norms that this would mark me as the school snitch without the teachers ever doing anything about the issues. Unfortunately I learned the hard way through trial and error that once you are labelled as a snitch their is nothing you can do to get that tag off and it comes with the added benefit of making people never talk to each other near me or even just leave the places I visit alone so yay more loneliness for me

16) I actively volunteered for every single activity and program my school office this sounds great but I picked and got selected for all 7 different fairs (English, Hindi, Maths, Science, Social science, Music, Art) but rather than pick out one or two I helped out with all 7 of them. They later added a 3 groups per person limit.

17) I am actually trained in both classical instrumental and singing but couldn’t complete my singing degree before the program closed down and it’s been 6 years since I played a Casio that I don’t think that even matters anymore. Anyway I added this because at first I did both of these at the same time along with volunteering for all the other activities before they added a 1 course per year limit which is a shame since it cost me my vocal degree.

18) I love reading that just the fact I found reading in my school library when I was 8 haven’t let it go since by my librarian’s estimate I read almost 3000 books (mostly children books) from my school library. I also have a mini collection of about 300 books that I have passed down to both of siblings. These days I read mostly on ao3 or the occasional paperback I bought at the airport but reading is still something I do almost daily.

19) See one thing about me is I was one of the first student at my school so much so my identification number was 35 so me being such an old student my school has actually legends about my quirky ( neurodivergent ) behaviour which has made me understand where most legends actually come from

I walked out of classes so many times teachers to this day still tell stories of the weird girl that likes to walk

My whole school knew who I was mostly because I would be the first and only person that likes to answer philosophical questions asked by our principal in the assembly, I was also great with improvising assembly conductions, thought of the days, assembly quizzes, full speeches on topics told to me 2 minutes ago, even improvised song recitations (can you guys pick up I have social anxiety now).

As I told you my lovelies I love reading so if I was immersed in a book and the class started I would just hide the book to read in class once I got caught so I got termed the girl who like to read books in class( is it stupid yes did it still happened certainly). I later learned to zone out to the stories in my mind during class which was very helpful.

As I told you guys I was actually on pretty friendly terms with my principal and teachers so guess who became the teachers pet for the next 8 years even though most teachers care jack shit about my interest and was further alienated because of this me ofcourse.

I actually once locked myself in the school bathroom for like 4 hours because I hadn’t completed the homework a teacher had given me and she was quite physically abusive towards me. I got suspended for a week because of this funnily enough nobody in my school actually remember this and most are really surprised to know I was suspended.

I am actually really famous or infamous by the way you look at it for physically assaulting a teacher funnily enough the name of the teacher, why I am attacked them and even how I hit them changes from person to person I have actually heard 10-15 different variations from different people( I am not even sure if I actually ever hit a teacher most I remember is I lunged at one teacher but she stepped back so I didn’t even touch her).

20) I was depressed from age 14 to 17 which caused me to chronic pain which later caused me to meet my current psychologist who helped me a lot but is vehemently against me getting any sort of neurodivergent diagnosis most she say is I have borderline adhd tendencies and that I think to much and should focus on calming down my mind which honestly is quite invalidating.

21) I can’t wear any sort of itchy or frilly materials when I was younger ( the texture was soo bad) but my sister could which made my mother think I was being a drama queen.

22) When I was younger I use toilet paper after using a bidet because the feeling of wet pants would over stem me so bad it’s not a problem for me anymore except from sometimes during winters.

23) I didn’t know Chewelry existed when I was younger so I chewed on my nails/skin,my lips, squishy parts of remotes, plastic toys, legos, scarfs, hoody strings, hot glue gun glue, chalk, cement, sand, mud etc. (Yes I know about the microplastics now no I don’t care).

24) I am highly sensitive to sounds so if my fan have a weird creak sound I won’t be able too sleep I also can’t sleep if I hear a clock ticking or any other repetitive sounds ( my mum still doesn’t understand why I can’t just force myself to sleep).

25) I also can’t sleep in continuous silence I need background noise to fall asleep.

26) It took me a whole year of forcing myself to wear bra and panties for my body to finally get used to me wearing them. It was a stimulation nightmare but I think it was worth it I enjoy wearing bras and panties now.

27) I can’t eat apples like I physically cringe even thinking of the sensation of biting into an apple. I have tried cutting an apple into every single why I could I still can’t swallow or even properly chew an apple the texture is such a sensory nightmare for me. Cabbage used to be the same for me but though constant reintroduction I can usually for myself to eat it with a glass of water

28) I have had many foods be absolutely sensory nightmare for me throughout my childhood. I was a very picky eater think bread, soup, lentils and noodles(packet noodles without vegetables). I couldn’t eat any kinds of fruits(except banana), vegetables, pizza , burgers (still don’t eat this), dumplings, wraps, pasta,etc. Heck I was a vegetarian for majority of my life before I learned chicken is actually a great textured food for me though I still don’t eat any form of red meat or sea foods and my food list is still very limited I have constantly reintroduced many foods for myself over the years which I can now usually bear to eat. I also learned that I can usually consume fruit and vegetables better if they are liquids so fruits juices, smoothies and soups were also great help.

29) I was and still am an absolutely clean freak and organiser. Like my bag use to have books organised in this specific order English, Hindi, Maths, Science and then Social studies and it needs to been in this order or I would get anxious. Fortunately no one else in my house ever wanted to organise anything so I would organise everything with way I would want it to be while also being neat.

30) One of my biggest sources of stress came from how dirty my siblings made our room. I would deep clean everything and then organise our books , toys and clothes and then clean and organise our bed they would just bulldozers through and ruin all my hard work in a day or two. Unfortunately I had this sense of cleanliness and order since I was a child and my siblings who were even younger then me weren’t slobs(ok maybe my brother was but anyway) they just weren’t wired to like cleanliness and order like I did and being children anything I told them about how we can keep our room clean went over their heads because I was always their to do it for them.

31) I actually had many special interests growing up though I didn’t have trains as an interest except for the cool toy train set I got as a gift or the maglev trains who are objectively very cool. My biggest special interest were rocks, space and animals especially all the books Nat geography and scholastic puts out on animals. I actually had a rock collection mostly made up of sedimentary rock and a piece of lime stone which my mother later kept in the shed where it got lost during home construction. I also have a modest collection of books and another collection of small childhood trinkets that I still have (I recently bought a clay bird that mimics actual bird call when filled with a little water to add to my collection).

32) I forget I need to eat and drink it’s always been like this I don’t have that internal clock that says you are thirsty go drink water or you are hungry go eat food . I need to remind myself it’s been 12 hrs I probably need water it’s been 32 hrs you should probably get some food or at least have a protein shake it’s like my body has no sense of hunger or thirst but I am getting better at eating and drinking at least the drinking water part anyway.

33) I am tired it’s not recent but in the last few years since I became an adult I feel so tired I use to be the topper of my class the gifted children that participated in everything now I am in college and just getting an 80% feels draining everyone has so much hope for me that I could and should do better but I am just tired. I walk and trekk sometimes but I don’t participate in any events and I see others I see my roommate who participates in like 5 different events and still gets a 95% if she can do it why can’t I. I use to be able to do so much and now I don’t have the drive to do much of anything anymore it’s so painful to realise that I should do better but what does better looks like for someone who is as tired as I am.

I did took some online test as well just to see if I even had a chance and the results were mostly the same I have many Adhd/Autistic tendencies and should probably get a professional diagnosis. I would be very thankful if my fellow autistic and adhd people would help me add more targeted experiences so I can finally get a diagnosis

@my-autism-adhd-blog you inspired me write all of this down and it would be very helpful if you could guide me to get a better diagnosis because of your experience. Also I greatly enjoy the contents of your blog so thank you for that

[aryxchse]

school president and the troublemaker. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n ; hello ya'll it's ya fav daughter of hera writer, this fic is written while i listened to my 'old bts songs' playlist, you know i'm talkin' about you just one day!!!

warnings : cursing, teenagers (that's should be a warning), this is writed by according to my countries school rules so deal with it, also grover, y/n, annabeth and percy are my favorite gang fr, rival-ish friends to lovers??, percy beating the shit out of some guy, mentions of staring, blood, no kiss on the lips ugh

"i fucking hate mondays," the son of poseidon whined, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning his head on them.

the first two class was history, which it didn't made anything better for him. he was a math guy, he didn't liked reading and stuff. but you and annabeth seemed to really enjoy it, even though annabeth is literally dislexic while your adhd was messing with your head.

grover sighed in front of him, leaning his head back until it rested on percy's desk. "i know right?" he said, fixing his green beanie. annabeth and you sighed, rolling your eyes at the two lazy boys.

"oh please, today's class is about mythology. i'm going to fuck that bitch up," annabeth said, smiling at you. you smiled back, knowing how much she hated your history teacher.

"you're fucking every teacher beth." percy yawned next to you, looking at the blonde girl. "they all hate you at this point for real."

"don't care," annabeth shrugged, looking like she was proud of herself. which she was. "they should educate people with truth, not a fucking lie."

"speak louder queen!" you agreed with her, while taking notes to your clipboard. there was a lot of shit going on in this big ass school, and you didn't know why you wanted to be a president of it this much.

at the beginning of the year, percy told you that you shouldn't get ahead of yourself—meaning that you guys can get expelled any day. but it never happened, it was yours second year in this school. three demigod's and one satyr, in the same school for two years. they should write and teach this in history too!

you had a way of talking out of problems, so whenever you four caused a trouble, everyone acted like nothing happened because of the mist. you controlled it in some type of way, because you wanted to be a president of some school before you become an adult.

back to now, percy peeked from your shoulder to see what you were writing on the clipboard.

— TO DO LIST —

visit the art, music and sport club to see if they need anything ✓

send the principal the needs of the clubs ✓

hang the new concert posters to schools board ✓

check if the p.e class needs anything

meeting with the other members at 13.00, lunch break

take the list of needed books in the library and hand the list to principal ✓

help the teachers or principal with the paperwork or sending them to where they should go ✓ (done for today)

you tapped your pen on the clipboard, focusing on the tasks you haven't done yet. percy sighed next to you, getting overwhelmed with how much work you had.

percy and annabeth was in the president club thingy with you, annabeth was the leader of the library club while percy was the sport clubs. they handed you the lists you writed on your clipboard. percy joined you to skip some classes and spend some time with you while annabeth just liked to be in charge.

"i didn't know we had a meeting today," percy whispered to you as the bitchy history teacher came into class. you rolled your eyes at the boy, putting the clipboard away to open your history notebook.

"i literally texted it in our groupchat. but you decided to ignore it and write 'what are we doing after school tomorrow?'" you reminded him. percy was about to answer you, but the teacher started yelling.

"alright kids, today we're learning about the twelve olympians and their wars!"

the four of you tried your hardest to not laugh, instead sharing side-eyes.

"man, for the first time this class will be fun," percy said, resting his cheek on his palm.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

the class was indeed fun.

annabeth had so much fun fixing the teacher's every mistake while the rest of you tried not to laugh. but you took notes anyway. you wrote the notes in ancient greek for the gang to copy from you, since they had dislexia and couldn't read.

"you're the best," annabeth said, kissing your cheek as you handed her the notes. you smiled, blowing a kiss to her way as a response. grover sat next to annabeth while eating a vegan sandwich, and percy was trying to get a drink from the machine.

"ya'll have any more cents?" percy asked, angry at the machine. you sighed and stood up, giving a good kick to the machine. it started working again, dropping percy's blue coke with some snacks. you smiled at him, flipping your hair while you returned to your seat.

"like i didn't know how to do that," he murmured, taking his drink with his now free snacks. he gave the chips to annabeth while handing the m&m's to you. he took the fish cracker to himself, holding it in his mouth to open his coke.

there was this little table at the end of the corridor, right next to the food machine. it was you guys usual spot, and everyone knew it. except the lunch times at the cafeteria, you four always hanged around here.

annabeth rested her back against the wall, laying her feet on top of grover's lap. the satyr didn't mind, since they usually sit like that. your seat was in front of annabeth, as you rested your head against your palm, taking a support from the wall. percy leaned against you, putting his whole weight on you while he eated the fish crackers messily.

you paid no attention to him as you wrote something on your clipboard again. "did we have anything missing in p.e class? like some new basketball's?"

annabeth looked up as she thinked for a moment. "the new one we got apperantly blowed up, at least that's what james told me." you groaned, smashing your head -gently- to the table. "i fucking hate basketball team."

"same," grover said, eating percy's now empty diet coke. "they're like hydra's."

percy laughed at that, making a fist bump with grover.

"when was the meeting again?" grover asked after the laugh session with percy. you groaned again, head still on the table. "read the fucking group chat for gods' sake!"

"man, chill." grover raised his hands in defeat. annabeth closed her own notebook while handing you yours. "thanks babe." she said, patting your head gently. you only made thumbs up to her, leaving the notebook on the table.

percy sighed and sat straight, putting your notebook in your bag. he held you by the waist and made you lean to his shoulder, taking your clipboard away from you. "you've already done almost everything here, the others are useless." he said, voice soft.

you hugged percy's arm to support yourself and annabeth slightly smiled to herself. as your chin rested on top of his shoulder, you looked at the clipboard. "i know but the p.e class is worst than everything i did there, it's so tiring."

"i can help you, you know." he said, putting the clipboard on the table and looking at you. you pulled yourself away to look in his eyes. how those ocean eyes can held so much care in them?

"but you hate checking p.e class," you said quietly, hands still lazily on his bicep. he smirked, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"if it's going to make you shut up, then i'll be glad to help." he teased, and you can see it in his expression. you only rolled your eyes, smile betraying your fake annoyance.

"wow, what a nice man you are percy jackson." you complimented, patting his bicep. he flexed them while he gave you a cocky look. "i know pretty."

"i'm gonna throw up," annabeth said, still smiling. grover nodded, gagging playfully. you both sticked your tongue out to them, chuckling.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"that's it, i'm not fucking letting you help me through the p.e class check again." you hissed, making percy sit on the infirmary bed.

he fucking had a fight. apperantly some guy from the soccer team checked you out in that pretty school skirt of yours, and percy noticed it. you didn't know why he was this protective or annoyed when it camed to other guys, but now you had to deal with his bloody lip and eyebrow.

"he was fucking you with his eyes, what i was gonna do? give him a view?" he snapped back, his normally sweet shade of sea green eyes now as dark as a storm. you hated when percy looked at you like this. his hatred was easier to see. it wasn't towards to you, it's never towards to you. but you can't help but feel like you're being attacked too.

"nothing, percy. nothing!" you said, your own eyebrows furrowed. no one was in the infirmary because the school sucked at being responsible. you made sure to point this to principal too.

luckily, your best friend was a demigod, who can heal with water. but unluckily for you, there was no water near. so, you had to caress his wounds like the old ways. still, he healed much faster than a mortal could.

the moment alcoholed cotten touched his lip, he hissed. "what the fuck you mean nothing?" he said, but his voice wasn't loud. "you- you had a crush on him or something?" the last sentence camed out his lip weak.

you rolled your eyes at the boy, who's now had a worried expression on his face. you couldn't understand why, but he looked like he could cry if you touched him. "don't tell me you have a crush on that fucking asshole. you can't be serious, i mean- have you seen hi-"

"percy shut up for gods' sake!" you yelled and he jumped. it made you feel a bit bad, but he was not making any sense. you stopped wiping the blood and cleaning the wound on his lip, now starting to put some bandages on it.

"i don't have a crush on the guy, i don't even know who he is." you explained, now wiping his eyebrow. he didn't flinched on this one, instead he was focused on you. "but you can't just attack people just because they're looking at me."

"he wasn't looking, y/n/n. he was literally-"

"fucking me with his eyes, i know." you shushed him gently with your words, your eyes holding too much care in them. weren't you questioning his eyes back then?

you were standing in between percy's legs, and you both were face to face, even though he was sitting. his expression was soft once again, and his eyes shined like always. you held his chin gently while carefuly treating the wound. "but he didn't dared to do anything, did he?"

"i would like to see him fucking try." he hissed.

"believe me, he wouldn't." you assured him, now bandaging him once again. he had a confused look on his face, but one side of him telled him you were right. "those guys like that can do nothing but stare."

there was a silence between you two now. percy kept sitting on the bed while you put away the first aid kit. after that you camed back to your previous place in between percy's legs, hands resting on his thigh.

he gently held your wrists in return, thumbs caressing the place gently. the boy was in the other infirmary in school, since they didn't want to put him in the same place as percy. you wondered how was the boy, because percy was literally about to kill him.

"how am i gonna get a boyfriend if you keep attacking the boys around me?" you joked, and for the first time, percy didn't laughed. he still looked down on your now intertwined hands, looking like he was in some kind of a trance.

you didn't want a boyfriend anyways, you wanted percy. the joke was to lighten the mood, but to also see his reaction. you we're having suspicions or delusions lately, about him liking you back. and you wanted to get a real answer for yourself.

luckily for you, percy was about to give you one.

"i don't want you to have a boyfriend, to be honest." he whispered, his forehead resting on your shoulder. your cheek -you didn't know why- immediatly found it's place on his head, smelling the salt water scent he had.

"why? you wanna keep me to yourself?" you chuckled, asking what you wanted to ask for a long time in a jokeful way.

"yeah, actually." he said.

you frozed. you wanted to keep your actions as warm as possible for him to not think you would ever reject him. you did wanted to get some real answers, but not stomach flipping, toe curling and cheek blushing one like this. your heart beated so fast that you thought you we're having a heart attack, and your breath hitched.

"what?" you managed to ask softly, and your voice felt like an angel to his ears.

"i'm sorry i-" he choked in his own words, afraid to face you. he still kept his head on your shoulder, in fact; he nuzzled into your neck a bit. "i don't want to ruin our friendship, but... in some way i do."

you chuckled, and he felt like the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"i kinda want that too," you whispered back, hands now caressing his bicep. his hands find their way onto your waist, holding you firmly close to himself. his heart was about to pop out from his body and met with yours, just chilling inside your body instead of his. weird way to express what he was feeling, but percy was never good with words anyway.

"yeah?" he breathed out, his smile can be heard from his voice. your own smile matched his, so bright that sun would be jealous. "since when?"

"oh man, i don't want to answer this." you joked, and he laughed. that's the react you've been waiting for. "you'd think i'm obsessed with you."

he raised his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes shining as bright as the sky now. you loved how his emotions reflected in his eyes, making him not be able to hide anything. you knew him better than anyone else anyways, he was always an open book to you.

"oh please, i don't have the right to judge you when i'm this whipped." he said, making you laugh. "we're we even friends this whole time?"

you laughed harder. "you know what? i think the fuck not." you answered through giggles. "we we're just two idiots who pretended to be friends."

as you both laughed there, to your whole situation, percy hugged you tight. an air escaped your lips in suprise, but you were quick to hug him back.

"you don't have any idea how relieved i am right now," he mumbled to your neck, leaving a few light kisses there. your hands caressed his raven hair, massaging the scalp. "i love you, so fuckin' much."

"i love you too, seaweed brain." you said back quietly, kissing on top of his head.

he was about to kiss you on the lips when annabeth and grover barged in.

"finally you idiots!" annabeth said, crossing her arms and resting her back on the door frame. grover put his arm on her shoulder, smirking.

"it's about fucking time, eh?"

[thurio-edau]

SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS

yup, him for part two. funny thing despite Aiden being my favourite character I'm most excited for the other three posts I'll make, especially the last one. there's a lot to unpack here so

also im writing this with a migraine pls read it-

Part 2: Aiden Clark

ah, yes. the obviously-mentally-ill from the start fan favourite Aiden Clark. let's go.

first, I want to start with something I find really important about his character, what makes him heavily mischaracterized in the fandom. the 'psychopath' cliche.

the terms 'psychopath', 'insane' and 'unstable' are often confused with each other due to media stereotypes, such as Aiden here. one, he is not a psychopath. psychopath literally means a self-centered person who lacks sympathy, affection and care; making them far from most other characters in their franchise. their lack of sympathy/empathy often makes them criminalized, here

disturbing content warning, for an example of a psychopath.

let's take Gressil from Homesick for example since a lot of SBG readers also read Homesick. so, here, Gressil is a perfect example of an actual psychopath. his lack of empathy makes him torment others, he's very self-centered. and when asked why he's doing this? he says he was bored. let's look at Aiden here. what does Aiden do when bored? probably dumb ideas or annoy Tyler. not torturing people for fun. Aiden is just a boy who likes thrills, but he has a sense of empathy, care and justice.

you wanna see a psychopathic Aiden?? the canvas is it

(our local Logan hater is publishing the canvas eps go checc beachy out)

but that's him, not our Aiden. canvas does not equal originals y'all

alright, now since we got that cleared out!! firstly, ADHD.

I think everyone in the fandom is already aware that Aiden is ADHD but I'm still going to talk about it just like Ashlyn's autism. Red has also said that she wrote Aiden with ADHD in mind but hadn't canonically confirmed anyone as neurodivergent. let's start with the main symptoms of ADHD, also known as Attention Decifit and Hyperactivity Disorder.

I know about 5 different ADHD people myself and did some research, it probably won't be extremely accurate since I'm not ADHD myself, but I'll try to do whatever I can. first with the AD part, Attention Decifit.

now as seen, he doesn't exactly have any problems with theorizing itself. but the problem is that his attention just goes away easily.

i mean cmon bro was making memes on the job

he tries to do work, but can't. he has a low attention span which makes him not able to concentrate. he can't keep it up for long, he'll get distracted or bored too easily about things that doesn't interest in specially.

it's just distracting. what his attention is on constantly changes, there's more to that after the ADHD part but we're here for now.

the hyperactivity... it's a lot more apparent. but I should explain the insane-unstable thing before that.

insane means that someone's mental health is not in an okay situation, where it prevents the person from thinking normally, acting rationally, very often found together with delusions. the person is seriously mentally ill where it might count as a disability.

unstable, however, where someone is prone to psychiatric problems, has moodswings etc. they're not exactly the most sane person, but they aren't insane either. Aiden here, obviously falls on the unstable side. maybe just a little bit insane if you squint. this will be brought up later too, but it mixed well with his hyperactivity too.

and as we all know, our boy isn't exactly the most stable person. (sorry for the collages, but since there is a tumblr picture limit i have to keep on collaging. yes i learnt from the last time) his hyperactivity mixes with his unstable mindset which makes him incresingly vulnerable to danger- which he likes. from when the first shift happened, he's been really careless about stuff but it's been all about his love for thrill.

and it irritates Tyler, too.

the main subplot about his character is that he's a person of excitement. guess what? ADHD people like the excitement, they like new things, they like the adrenaline and thrill. now, Aiden's main characteristic of being unstable mixed with ADHD makes him an even more reckless person. another thing mixing with the hyperactivity, is boundaries.

this part will mostly be about Ashlyn since the boundary issue only happens with her.

I talked about this on Ashlyn's side on my Ashlyn analysis, now it's time for Aiden's side.

he's really annoying to her at first. Ashlyn is someone with lots of boundaries, like high walls. and who tries to climb them with his dumbass? Aiden of course.

she kept rejecting his efforts to befriend her for some time, until the night they stole the jeep. then she managed to actually bring the walls down, and accept them all into her life. but damn was she blunt.

felt that honestly

and Aiden understands her that night, too.

Ashlyn was hesistant to hug him, yes, he was aware. but she still did which made him realize she was also trying. i have to tell you, people with ADHD and people with autism either have trouble getting along, or go perfectly well. my ADHD sibling for example, I have to push them away for a lot and tell them to lower their voice. but once they remember my boundaries it actually becomes a normal, even pleasant hangout. which, Aiden realizes and tries to get along with. he tries.

seeing his efforts on her boundaries makes something click in her mind. and she starts to be a lot nicer when they hang out in the arcade.

Aiden eventually learns and remembers what she's like and what she loves to do. he already tried to watch her ballet sessions once -got slammed-, he's been to her room where he remembered the mat from and her fighting makes it obvious. I'm sure he knew he'd get cooked by betting that. but he still did,

because he knew it'd interest her. which he succeeded, he saw her smile again. the arcade day went great until Barron and his gang pulled up, but if we ignore that part it all went well. Aiden started to understand and respect her boundaries.

anyways then Tyler fucking dies

he knows that Ashlyn feels guilty. Aiden wants to comfort her through it, but also do it correctly. without going over any boundaries. which makes him really,

really,

really surprised when she responds.

also including this pannel cause its hilarious

here we see that he's still trying. hell, I'm sure he spent minutes thinking if he should come close physically to help her. that's probably why he just nudged her softly before anything else. he's not used to it, he has to conciously make an effort to not cross said boundaries. keeping his voice lower, try to not be so reckless, not doing anything physically close unless she reciprocates. wow how i wish another someone i knew irl tried that hard instead of blaming it on me cOUGH COUGH COUGH

also other small things to include

he's yapping a lot

he has a comically large amount of puzzles in his backpack for one single trip

and sticks his head into lamps for some reason

but that's just Aiden and his little neurodivergent brain for ya.

now the part I wanted to get to the most.

Borderline Personality Disorder.

first, what is Borderline Personality Disorder?

shortened as BPD, borderline is when someone's mood is inconsistent and swinging. think of it's name; the person's mental state is in the border, in the border line, switching up fastly. the most easily understood and common type is when the person goes from a depression to a happy state. but no matter which state they are in and/or go to, one thing stays the same: it is unstable.

one thing about borderline is that it is frequently mixed with bipolar. however bipolar is a neurodivengercy which means it is what someone is born with and cannot be changed. but borderline is obtained later in life. it usually happens with depression. bipolar is much more random and the episodes last longer in comparison. it may last up to hours, and the person's memory might have trouble remembering their episodes. borderline, on the other hand, is a short-lived mood swing.

now here. here's the catch; people with BPD during mood swings can have reckless behaviour, suicidal thoughts -in his case as far as we know, lowered sense of protecting himself- or a loss of understanding danger. sounds familiar?

borderline's recklessness and dangerousness, sometimes self-destructive acts combines with ADHD's love for thrill and excitement, combined with Aiden's own personality all make up for a great condition of instability.

Aiden's behaviour constantly goes crazy, I think his most frequent mood swing might be his normal self (at least, as normal as he could be) to this more maniac way of acting. I noticed it from his eyes, when he's in a more calm-ish normal state his pupils are a bit more dilated. in the pictures above, you can clearly see that he's still in the episode; filled with the adrenaline, the unstable way of thinking.

but, what causes that? surely a mental illness such as borderline doesn't happen on it's own.

right?

cause it didn't.

it never works that way.

but it can get better.

eventually.

but what happened to him?

personally, as much as a large amounnt of people seems to believe it's something like family abuse I don't think so. maybe neglect, maybe withdrawal, maybe maybe. but we've seen his parents. I don't think they would hurt him like that. I can't put any more pictures, but this is the last part anyway. his parents seem to be kind and gentle, despite that picture in his house. I'm thinking the picture was only for the dramatic effect. his parents said that he used to be really calm and quiet during Lily's birthday, and both Aiden and Ben seem comfortable around them. they were happy taking Ben in too, any kind of abusive parent wouldn't do that at least that's what I believe. also there is that Aiden got serious and concerned when he learnt that their parents were also in the facility, most likely worried for his own as you would have thought.

there was a post that I've been trying to find for like half an hour, I commented on it but I can't find the post now. the person talked about their own theory. if I remember correctly it was that when Aiden was depressive as a child, his parents took him to a thrilling activity like the ones he's been talking about (bungee-jumping, skydiving etc.) and the thrill made him actually get excited. which is why his parents allowed him to go even more reckless, because they are aware of how prone their son could be to the depression.

what happened? let's ignore the parents factor. someone can have a loving family and still be traumatized, someone can be taken care of and still feel abandoned, someone can never have confronted a situation they are terrified of.

one of my theories is that, the loneliness. it must get to a child heavily considering children need to not be left alone, but Aiden was. he didn't have any actual friends since they always moved from one place to another from his parents' business, and they might have not had enough time to make for him (which I believe is bullshitting, every child deserves to be taken some time out for. some people quit their jobs entirely for their child.) and be unaware, and that doesn't change that he was still depressed and alone. his depressive state was seemingly before Ben was taken in. now here one thing with borderline, at least from my experience, is faking actions. smiles, laughs, friendships, conversations... almost as if there's two different lives; one fake, and one real. you keep on switching, you keep on swinging between the sides where you're yourself and where you're just mimicking 'normal human behaviour'.

it starts from faking a happy state during their depression, and by time you're faking it it becomes an automatic adition to your personality. to your mind. once it furthers, it becomes the disorder. Aiden we see is always smiling. it becomes a habit that only breaks sometimes. now, I'm not saying his smile is fake- I think his face is literally just stuck like that. it breaks ever so slightly sometimes. fake it till ya make it yanno? that kind of thing. and when he swings from his calm mood to his borderline-d mood, his pupils get small and his smile gets worse. noticably worse. I'll be rereading the series (AGAIN) and this time look at all the small details since Red loves putting them and I love theorizing so

which, wraps up the Aiden thing! im actually really proud of how i could put my thoughts into text which i never could. i'd love any additions because i love other opinions as well.

and you know what? im glad Ash and Ai are out of the place because the rest are what I'm actually looking forward to >:)

...and i should sleep. really.

(wow sorry yall i finished this hours ago and said 'alright reread to make sure its good before sleep' and fell asleep through it lol sorry for 4 hour delay ig)

(leaving for school rn see yall 8 hours later 🫡)

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

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; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+

a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).

i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(

also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”

“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”

“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”

“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”

Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground. 

She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere. 

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.” 

You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.” 

Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.

You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it? 

“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”

You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes. 

“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”

When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment. 

“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves. 

“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out. 

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present. 

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went? 

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .  

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot. 

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone. 

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult. 

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you. 

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.” 

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard. 

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together. 

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.” 

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question. 

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully. 

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance. 

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began. 

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details. 

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with. 

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake. 

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind. 

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered. 

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning. 

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced. 

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . . 

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly. 

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . . 

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace? 

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special. 

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front. 

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body. 

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident. 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain. 

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.” 

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this. 

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way. 

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more. 

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for  Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending. 

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes. 

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed. 

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .” 

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms. 

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles. 

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.” 

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.” 

My safe place. 

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had  some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.” 

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.” 

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin. 

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow. 

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds. 

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . . 

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp. 

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .” 

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you. 

My lavender. 

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time. 

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands. 

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone. 

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was. 

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing. 

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief. 

This was safe. This was home. 

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there. 

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.” 

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became. 

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm. 

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity. 

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.” 

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed. 

It was time. 

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender. 

Home, you thought. He looks like home. 

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him. 

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer. 

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . . 

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . . 

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it. 

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white. 

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table. 

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.  

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat. 

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing. 

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there. 

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick. 

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board. 

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame. 

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear. 

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely. 

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that. 

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here. 

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie. 

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it. 

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room. 

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet. 

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past? 

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch. 

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option. 

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair. 

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye. 

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine. 

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket. 

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks. 

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy. 

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation. 

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . . 

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out. 

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away. 

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head. 

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble. 

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . . 

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed. 

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . . 

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl. 

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them. 

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers. 

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was. 

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you. 

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped. 

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . . 

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes,  even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . . 

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 

The fury, pointed towards you. 

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you. 

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you. 

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen. 

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . . 

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed. 

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan. 

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity. 

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran. 

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother. 

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . . 

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary. 

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe. 

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer. 

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump.  But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake. 

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . . 

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place. 

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box. 

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all. 

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box. 

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon. 

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present. 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes. 

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay. 

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes. 

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle. 

Your heart monitor. 

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . . 

And then you remembered. 

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic. 

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane. 

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red. 

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help. 

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you. 

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other. 

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under. 

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree. 

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point. 

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone. 

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance. 

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back. 

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended. 

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace. 

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in. 

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most. 

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand. 

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake. 

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him. 

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better. 

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye. 

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake. 

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be. 

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders,  Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack. 

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end. 

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times. 

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all. 

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories. 

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion. 

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze. 

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness. 

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you. 

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him. 

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly. 

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare. 

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story. 

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation. 

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 

The car stayed silent for a few beats. 

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 

Now was not the time. 

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 

Music. You needed music. 

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 

You were just hormonal and emotional. 

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it 

I'm emotional 

This is your fault 

Please listen when I say 

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 

The OB office. 

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.” 

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. 

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 

Pleasant surprise. 

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 

You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 

You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?” 

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion. 

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. 

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 

Stars. You saw so many stars. 

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.” 

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 

But he was right there. . . 

No. 

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed. 

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake. 

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 

 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 

Well. 

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 

It was heaven. That was what it was. 

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022 

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 

You, speaking of love. 

Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

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[scarlethexelove]

There Is Nothing Wrong With You

I know it says Sorry For Your Loss but it was the only one I could find and this was what I wanted. Also Not mine

Pairing: Wanda x Autistic!Reader

Word Count: 895

Warnings: Barely any angst, Comfort, Fluff, Self-Hatred, A little bit of hitting oneself

A/n: Wanted to write this short little fluff story with Autistic reader. This really has to do with Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is also highly linked to ADHD. I can struggle with it just wanted to write a comfort for it. So hopefully others can enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Wanda makes her way back to her room. She comes across your door slightly cracked and peers in seeing you sitting on the floor in front of your bed building a Lego set as the tv plays quietly in the background. She slowly opens the door and ventures in shutting the door behind her.

You had been avoiding Wanda all day and if you couldn’t get away you would give her one word answers. She was getting frustrated and upset that you were acting so cold. She was also worried that maybe she had done something to upset you. Wanda had told you something that she thought was minor and you apologized profusely to her not meaning to be upsetting or annoying to her. But you had worked it out and were fine last night when you said your good nights.

You hadn't even noticed Wanda come in until you heard the clicking of your door shutting. You look up at her and immediately wish that you could run, but there is nowhere to go and you know that you will have to deal with this now. Wanda won’t let you go until you talk to her and you know that. 

“Y/n/n what’s wrong? You have been avoiding me all day and when you’re not you are being cold and kind of rude.” Wanda sits down on the floor an arms length away from you. You start to fidget a little and pull your knees to your chest. “I’m sorry.” You look down not wanting to meet her gaze, your voice small. “Is this about last night?” She asks gently, hooking her finger under your chin and lifting your gaze to hers. There are tears already in your eyes as you shake your head trying to stop the tears from falling. She can see the conflict behind your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s not you. I’m the one who is messed up. I mess everything up. I ruin everything. You don’t deserve this. You’re better off without me.” Your words come out fast and broken. Her heart breaking hearing your words. Your left hand threading through your hair as you take your right hand using your palm and hitting it against your head hating yourself hating your brain for making you this way. Continuing to mutter “Stupid, so stupid.” 

Wanda’s hand gently gripping your wrist and pulling them to her chest. Your hands gripping at the top of her shirt as she pulls you into her lap wrapping her arms around you tightly as you begin to sob into her shoulder. She gently rocks the both of you as she whispers reassurances in your ear. Lightly kissing the top of your head, keeping you tightly in her arms calming you slowly.

Once your sobs turn into sniffles Wanda gently pulls you back cupping your face in her hands. She uses the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears on your cheeks. She is being so soft and tender with you which just makes your hate for yourself even more. She shakes her head with tears in her eyes. “You did not mess anything up and there is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect the way you are.” She gives you a tearful smile gently rubbing your cheek. You nuzzle into her hand looking for comfort. “Please don’t ever say I’m better off without you detka. I have not so much already and I can’t lose you too. I would give up the world to see your smile. You mean everything to me.” You can’t help the tears rolling down your cheeks at her words. She gently kisses your forehead, then your nose, and then finally leaves a kiss on your lips before leaning her head on yours. “I love you Y/n.”

More tears stream down your face. You can’t believe Wanda just said I love you. “Really?” Your voice sounds small and hopeful. She tearfully smiles and nods her head. “I love you so much.” She kisses you pouring all the love she has for you into that one kiss leaving you breathless. “I love you too.” You whisper, pressing your head back against hers. The room fills with both of your giggles at the confession. As your giggles die down you both stay there heads pressed together as you bask in the closeness and love. 

“I’m sorry I was being so cold and rude I didn’t mean to.” You break the silence. Wanda shakes her head with a small smile on her face. “Detka I know it is hard for you sometimes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Know that I will always be here for you even if we disagree or argue. I will be patient and understanding of your needs.” You can’t help that more tears are shining in your eyes and you look down. “Thank you Wanda. I-I want to be here for you too.” She lifts your head back up for a kiss. 

“I love you.” Wanda hugs you closer as you bury your head in her neck. “I love you too.” You mumble smiling into her neck. This wasn’t how you thought any of this would go. This is when you know you have the best girlfriend in the world and want to spend the rest of your life with her.

[joydemorra]

Do you ever start something as a joke and lose complete control over your life?

In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more... [read the full blurb here]

What is Hunger Pangs?

Hunger Pangs, often shortened to “Phangs” by the self-proclaimed phangdom, is my debut romance novel, published in Nov 2020, featuring a deaf, disabled werewolf, a neurodivergent, mad scientist vampire, and an all-powerful enchantress who is the last of her kind.

It is the first book in a slow-burn, polyamorous gaslamp fantasy romance series focusing on the relationship(s) and antics of the three main characters, Nathan Northland, Vlad Blutstein, and Lady Ursula, as they work to save the world they love from imminent magical and ecological disaster.

The first book primarily focuses on the relationship between Nathan and Vlad, with Ursula heavily alluded to in the next book (Pride and Folly) via some shameless flirting and stolen, impulsive kisses.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent, world-saving bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they get to each other.

There are two editions of the novel. The Flirting with Fangs edition depicts on-page sexual acts, and the Fluff and Fangs edition which uses alternative scenes/fade-to-black scenes for those who prefer not to read depictions of sex. You can read more about why I decided to do this here.

How Did Phangs come to be?

Like most things on my blog, the original concept began as a joke. My friend and enabler, @jeneelestrange, and I were talking about our least favorite tropes in romance/erotica, including but not limited to toxic “alpha” werewolves, brooding stalker vampire boyfriends, and the absolute profound bullshit that is the Conflicted Love Triangle and Bury Your Gays.

Eventually, it culminated in this post:

(source)

It was meant to be a joke. I really cannot emphasize this enough. It was meant to be a shitpost between friends.

A throwaway ADHD impulse.

Tumblr, however, wanted more of these posts, and like a swarming mass of drift-compatible rats in a trench coat, grabbed hold of my lack of impulse control and Ratatouille'd me into becoming an international bestselling author, and, well, here we are.

I also started writing the series while dying, which I highly do not recommend as a functional creative process.

Absolutely do not start a 500k five-part novel series about love and hope while dying from an undiagnosed genetic disorder. Or if you do, make sure you actually die so you don't have to edit the damn thing. (I am mostly kidding.)

What are the themes/tropes/character dynamics of the book?

In the simplest of terms, Phangs is a queer-polyamorous-paranormal-satirical-romance series featuring vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of creatures that go bump in the night.

It is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake-Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

Style-wise, Phangs has been described by readers as "like reading the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," and I've never been more proud of anything in my life.

If Game of Thrones ascribes to the idea that the night is dark and full of terrors, Phangs is the monster-fucker politely sidling up to them at the bar and asking if they can buy them a drink.

It is also primarily a love letter to fandom, which has led some people to believe it’s fanfiction with the serial labels filed off. But as the person who spent five years agonizing over the world-building, I can assure you this is all very much the product of my weird little ADHD brain picking up tropes, shaking them upside down, and running off with whatever fun and interesting things shake loose.

As already stated, the first book, True Love Bites, focuses primarily on the relationship between Captain Nathaniel J. Northland and Viscount Vlad Blutstein.

The first part of the book primarily focuses on Nathan coming home injured from war and trying to find his place in the world as newly deaf and disabled -- something which alienates him from his werewolf family, who don't know what to do with an injury that can't be mended by a full moon.

While working on the island of Eyrie, he encounters Viscount Blutstein -- Vlad-- a neurodivergent, mad scientist dandy vampire with an enthusiasm for demonic botany and a streak of unfailing kindness as broad and expansive as the sky.

It's not so much love at first sight for the pair as instantaneous lust hampered by the restrictions of polite 1880 society and old ingrained prejudices that make them think the other couldn't possibly be interested in them that way. They're just misreading all those heartfelt stares and sexually charged chess games.

(The love is requited, your honor, they're just idiots.)

Both characters are explicitly queer/mspec, as is Ursula, who drops into their world like a magical atom bomb going off, but not before she spends her own parts of the book desperately trying to figure out what manner of dark entity is killing the magical shrines around the world that keep the world alive.

Thematically, the series touches on many things, but the book’s overriding theme is love. Romantically, of course, and love between families, both found or otherwise. But also love as an act of courage. As a choice. An act of defiance in dark and troubling times, and what it means to be loved and belong even though you’re different.

Especially when you’re different.

And I really fucking hope you enjoy it.

To read the full synopsis and check out the heat ratings, buy links and content tags, go to www.joydemorra.com

[bonefall]

So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!

A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?

B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?

C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?

(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)

AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.

While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.

I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.

...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.

I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.

You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.

So... Warrior Cats Misogyny

I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.

Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.

It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,

Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)

Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)

Misty (killed for land, children stolen)

Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)

Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)

Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)

Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)

Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)

Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)

Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")

Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.

"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."

It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).

It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.

It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).

It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.

You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,

That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,

Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.

LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.

So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.

Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,

"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot

He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.

[aesethewitch]

Spirit Work: The Power of Hanging Out

Elaborate rituals, intense meditations, and huge gestures have their places in spirit work. There's value in putting a massive effort into something for the spirits you venerate or work with. And sometimes, you need to do these big things for a particular outcome or as part of your tradition.

I have a bias against big, elaborate rituals for this purpose, though. In my practice, it's just unnecessary. All of the relationships I have and maintain with spirits are, at their cores, friendships. They're not working relationships, they're not worshiper-worshiped relationships, they're not transactional relationships. My spirits are my friends.

So I approach working with them like friendship. I'll light a candle and set a cup of coffee or tea on their altar in the same way I'd offer a friend a cup of tea when they visit. If I'm working on something, I'm accustomed to body doubling as someone with ADHD, and I like to invite my friends to work alongside me. In the same way, I'll invite my spirit friends to participate or just hang around while I work.

Heck, they hang out while I write these posts sometimes!

Not everything in spirit work has to be intense and serious. Yes, you should be respectful -- in the same way that you should be respectful to your neighbors and your friends. And yeah, not all spirits can or should be treated this way.

But I would like to posit the humble power of Hanging Out.

What I Mean By That

Literally. Hanging out.

Whatever you normally do to "call" your spirit(s), do that. My method is lighting a candle of some sort. Sometimes, I'll choose a scented candle if I'm trying to lure a particular spirit to the area, but an unscented taper candle will do just fine.

And then, you hang out. That's it.

If you're watching YouTube, invite the spirit to watch with you. Ask their opinions on what to watch, if you have an easy way to communicate with them. (One of my spirits loves Ghost Hunting TV Shows. He thinks it's hilarious.)

If you're playing a video game, leave space on the couch for the spirit to settle next to you to watch.

Make dinner, chat about your days. Set aside a little plate for them if you want. Eat together.

The Value in Hanging Out

The idea here is that time is valuable​. Time spent with someone else is valuable on its own, even if that time is spent doing little to nothing "productive."

Think about your friends and the people you enjoy spending time with. It isn't always clubs, parties, exploring, hiking, running, traveling, or whatever else you do. Even if that's how you met or your main activity together, there are always casual moments. Easy breakfasts, simple conversations, sleepovers in your PJs, watching movies.

Quality time is powerful. Choosing to spend your time with someone sends a clear message: "I value your presence."

Not everything has to be an elaborate party. Sometimes, all you want is to sit down and hang out.

Why can't it be the same with spirits? The answer is that it can. In my practice, I rarely do anything that elaborate. I'll put extra effort in for special occasions like holidays, but usually, it's a simple act of lighting a candle, saying hello, and then sitting down with the spirit to just hang out.

Not every relationship requires constant, intense focus. Especially if you're looking to befriend​ your spirits, rather than just work with them, the Power of Hanging Out is a valuable asset to keep in mind.

It doesn't have to be every day, either. I have a sort of open, standing invitation for whichever spirits to hang out whenever they like. They're welcome to chill anytime, unless I ask to be left alone. Because of our relationship, they respect that. (Usually -- the only time they don't is if something urgent has come up or they need something.)

I developed the theory of Hanging Out years ago. Spirit work was where I started, and it's always been Home to me. But it's intense sometimes, and a lot of what I was doing was burning me out very, very fast. So I adapted on the fly, as one does, and it ended up working really well.

Now, Hanging Out is my primary method of doing spirit work. Even with spirits I don't know or in new locations, there's value in projecting an aura of "I'm just here to chill. Feel free to talk to me, or don't. It's cool." Spirits, shockingly, respond to that. I end up with a lot of interesting, casual conversations, light taps on the shoulder to let me know I've been acknowledged by something that doesn't want to talk, and various visual anomalies from shy critters in the shadows.

Think of it like slow blinking at a cat or offering the back of your hand to a dog. Approaching respectfully and calmly in a very casual way attracts things that otherwise wouldn't show themselves. The Power of Hanging Out is alluring to even the shyest spirits.

Again, obviously, this won't work for all spirits. Do what works for what you work with. I've found Hanging Out works best with ancestors, house spirits, land spirits, and assorted ghosties over the years. It's not so good with, say, the Good Neighbors. But hey, maybe your experience will differ.

Extra Benefits of Hanging Out

Aside from the relationship benefits of casually sitting and hanging out, there are even more practical benefits. As a side-effect of adapting spirit work in this way to work for me, my senses for spiritual energy shot through the roof.

I've always been pretty sensitive. I'm that weird kid at the next table over in the restaurant who clocked the spirit of your recently-deceased aunt who left you her necklace which you're wearing under your shirt and which I couldn't have possibly seen. But when I started Hanging Out and just existing in a space with spirits, everything sort of... exploded.

It's like recognizing your family's footsteps coming down the hallway. When I stopped trying to force myself to understand and recognize every scrap of energy, it all washed over me instead. And in the Energy Soup, I started to recognize more signs and signals without effort.

This is, in my opinion, the greatest benefit of Hanging Out, even for people who don't do spirit work at all. There's no meditative aspect to it, really (though you can certainly meditate to enhance it, if that's something you do). It's just sitting and being receptive.

I don't think this method will work for everyone. People who have zero sensitivity to spirits may not see any results. But I think it has value even for those people.

At its core, Hanging Out is a mindfulness exercise. If you can't be with spirits, be with yourself. Put the call out to whoever or whatever you work with, venerate, sense -- or things you'd like to get to know better. See what answers.

​Light a candle.

Say, "If you want to come sit with me and watch TV, feel free. I have popcorn."

Hang Out.

If you like my work, consider tossing a tip in my Ko-Fi tip jar! Supporters get extra, early, and exclusive content every week. You can also view this post on Ko-Fi here!

Also, consider throwing a response at my Divination Theory Survey! This is an ongoing research project that needs all the help it can get. Thanks!

[aphroditelovesu]

can you please write gender, neutral, reader, who has ADHD and the yandere Bat boys from ACOTAR react to reader having ADHD I’ve been waiting for your request to open to request this can’t wait to read it ❤️❤️❤️

❝ 🌹 — lady l: i hope you like it, anon! As a person with ADHD, I wrote it based on my experience and things that happen to me, but I know not everyone is the same, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! ❤️❤️

❝tw: overprotective behavior, ADHD, unhealthy romantic relationships, messy writing.

❝🌹pairing: yandere!bat boys/azriel, rhysand and cassian x ADHD!gender neutral!reader.

Azriel

Azriel deals with your ADHD however he can and tries his best to be understanding and not stress. He doesn't like it, but he can't do anything to change it. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't have anything bad against you having ADHD, as he knows it's not your choice, but he hates that ADHD has you.

He hates that he worries about you so much because he's afraid you'll end up getting hurt because of your lack of attention. He has never met anyone who poses as much danger to themself as you do and it irritates him profusely.

Azriel gets tired easily and to try to have some peace of mind, he will always have a shadow with you, to look after you and report any movement of you and others. Even if you get angry about this, he won't see it as anything wrong since he's just looking out for your safety.

He has always been very protective of you since he has never cared for or loved anyone as much as he loves you and when he finds out that you have ADHD this protection becomes unbearable. Azriel doesn't want anything bad to happen to you and will make sure of it.

Azriel hates it when you cause yourself harm and scolds you vehemently and when you are hurt by his words, he mumbles an apology and pulls you into a hug. He can't stay mad at you.

He tries to be as understanding as possible, like when you forget something or even a date, he tries to think about your well-being and doesn't schedule another date again until he's sure you're okay. Azriel will make sure you are always comfortable with something and, if you take any medication, make sure you never miss it and you will always take it.

Rhysand

If Rhysand could remove ADHD from you with his daemati powers, he would have done it a long time ago. But that's not possible, so he tries his best to take care of you and make sure you're well, fed and safe.

He doesn't like being ignored and when he talks to you, he expects an answer, but he tries to act indifferent when he realizes that you are lost in your thoughts and aren't listening to him. Rhys can't blame you for this, so he always brushes it off and says it's okay when you realize what happened.

Rhysand understands you and is as caring and gentle as possible. The way he talks and acts around you really shows how much he cares and wants you to feel comfortable around him, so he will never say or do something that makes you uncomfortable.

He was always overprotective and that didn't change at all when he found out about your ADHD, but it did increase. Anyone who looks, who thinks, wrong about you will be torn to pieces. Rhysand will not allow any harm to be done to you and any attempt will be dealt with slowly and painfully.

Rhys tries his best to look out for you, writing notes or sending you literal mental notes when you forget something, and, depending on the situation, he will have someone look after you so you don't get hurt. He leaves little notes around the house with simple reminders and some more romantic ones, reminding you how much he loves you and cares about you.

He loves you and is protective of you in the same way he always was, the only change will be that Rhysand will become much more suffocating and will invade your personal space more frequently due to your ADHD, constantly fearing that you will get hurt. Rhys values ​​you a lot, but he doesn't trust you completely and so he has to make sure you're okay and he'll do it his way.

Cassian

Cassian loves the fact that you have ADHD. He knows this may seem strange and insensitive of him, but he can't help but be excited because it makes you more dependent on him in his eyes and he loves taking care of you.

He always loved taking care of you as if you were a child, especially due to your size difference. You will almost always be hidden in his wings and he will be looking at everyone with suspicion. Cassian had become even more protective due to your ADHD.

Cassian tries his best to be understanding and he is very emotional and puts your feelings above him and will take great care not to make you upset, as he hates seeing you mad at him. He is constantly hugging you, because he knows that in his arms you will be safe from all the dangers in the world.

He will always remind you of your chores, leaving notes around the house in places he knows you will look at and will always accompany you wherever you go, to make sure you don't get hurt or end up tripping over something. Your safety always comes first.

If you allow him, Cassian will become your personal bodyguard and follow you around like a puppy. He wants you to depend on him, he needs to protect you, be your hero and he will die inside if he can't do everything for you. It will get to the point that Cassian will offer to carry you anywhere.

Cassian knows it's wrong to think that way, since he knows that having ADHD isn't something easy or cool, but he likes having you dependent on him. He wants to be the only one to watch over you, to protect you and knowing that you have an extra vulnerability makes him ecstatic. He has to take care of you, that's his duty as your mate and as your protector.

[rustboxstarr]

Hiiii! How about one where you and Eddie are arguing about keeping the house clean and you tell him you're not his mother to clean up after himself and he just gets angrier until you decide to punish him by not letting him touch you AT ALL and he's fine with it until days pass and he becomes needy AF and you want to give it to him, but not until he complies with your requests of him doing house chores and never once hearing him complain. He agrees but only if you let him absolutely destroy you

🌹The Incentive🌹

Summary: Your work trip is cut short and you're welcomed to a lovely... pigsty. Eddie has to do some real changes and surprisingly, Robin has the solution, cue some horny and desperate ass misery for Eddie hehe.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut.

Domestic fighting, fear of domestic abuse, talk of R being homeless, talk of rape threats (NOT FROM EDDIE!), low-key kinda toxic for a sec, use of Y/N, yeah homeboy has undiagnosed ADHD, fluff, nakey nakey, Oral m & f receiving, slightly dangerous deep throating oop, P in V, reader is 25 and Eddie 26, established relationship, let me know if i missed any!

Wordcount: 19.5 k

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I am so sorry it took such a long time to post it but I loved writing it! ❤️ I originally had another approach but I think this one is better haha. I did also create some media for visuals (I think I should keep doing it in the future, idk why but I love visuals, what do ya'll think?) so feel free to check them out! I suggest having a look at them before you start reading :)

Feel free to request, I loved doing this!! ❤️❤️❤️

PS: I didn't want to spoil the Barbie movie other than basic information so its kind of slack but yeah just fyi there is a mention of it :)

Love yas!

Fic visuals

Check out my other works!

“Oh my fucking god Eddie! I’ve been gone three days, three!” your mouth had dropped wide open as well as your laptop bag which thudded to the floor with the shock you were experiencing when you came home. Dirty dishes piled up on every single empty space -not already occupied by rubbish, food not put back in the fridge, empty beer and soda cans- occupying the kitchen counters. Shoes were haphazardly strewn across the entrance to the door, each one seemingly kicked off, your own were knocked over and precious, expensive heels were right in the line of fire for a trampling. Leather, denim, canvas and blazer jackets alike were littered all around the doormat. Multiple empty and half empty pizza boxes lay stacked on the coffee table, that too hit by the hurricane which was Eddie, rubbish, DnD notes, batteries, magazines and just about everything else could be found on the sleek mahogany wood. 

The discarded clothes that littered the hardwood floor acted as a red carpet for the man himself, Eddie Munson, unfortunately, your boyfriend, screaming into his headset while hunched forward to pay undivided attention to the game on screen, sweatpant clothed legs spread wide with two elbows resting on top, connected to his naked torso. 

He jumped in fright when he heard your shrill voice, he clearly hadn't heard the door open. His face contorted into a pained expression as he slipped one of the cups off his ears, watching you carefully as you scanned the apartment in disbelief. “Heyyy… weren't you uh coming home tomorrow?” his teeth were bit tight as his nose scrunched, waiting for the inevitable reaction. 

“What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” it was clear from the tension in your face that you were visibly fuming, smoke may as well be forcing out of your ears as of this moment. “I.. I gotta go” Eddie whispered into the microphone before taking his headset off completely, as he stood up and reached for the remote you lay notice to the smattering of crumbs that rolled off his chest and fell to the floor. “How come you're here so early baby?” his voice was quiet, both in an attempt to sooth you but also to dampen the whole situation. “Don’t you dare fucking baby me. What the actual fuck am I looking at right now?” your eyes were wide, your limbs stiff as board and teeth clenched in anger, no doubt only worsening the inevitable dental issues you would have in the future from your constant mindless teeth grinding. 

“I was gonna clean up I swear” your stare was unwavering and implying he continue. “You weren't supposed to see any of this, I promise, I was gonna clean up tomorrow before I picked you up from the airport” taking slow steps during each word he uttered he arrived in front of you, hands very gently reaching out to hold your hips. 

Well he was fucked. You pushed him away, almost backing into the door behind you as you began, “They cut the trip short so I came to surprise you, and this is what I come home to? Why would it even be here in the first place?! How do you manage to fucking trash our whole apartment, because I’m guessing theres more shit I’m going to find, IN THREE DAYS?!” he physically flinched at the volume of your voice as it rang around the room. “I-I had the guys over” in comparison to your voice Eddie sounded like a little church mouse as he whispered to you. 

“That is not an excuse! Who the fuck doesn’t clean up after having people over?!” you harshly shoved him out of the way as you stomped past him, heels clicking against the floors, having seen the state of the living room on your right and the kitchen on your left your most important place to inspect was the bedroom. 

Once again Eddie flinched as he heard the loud, shocked gasp that travelled down your throat. “I-I just wanted to relax ya know? For the weekend, no tasks, no cleaning and shit” he followed to stand behind you in the doorway. Sheets were crumpled and falling off the bed, the bedsheet barely even covering the mattress, clothes were scattered everywhere, spilling out of dresser doors behind the usually closed wardrobe door, on the floor, on the bed and both nightstands. Papers were littered across the various fabrics, notes and guidebooks to Dungeons and Dragons thrown on the floor, multiple bottles of various makeup and skincare products severed from their neat collection on your makeup table, instead left on the floor after seemingly being knocked down. 

Both Eddie's laptop and your Ipad -missing from its safekeeping in your bedside drawer- almost completely hidden under half of Eddie's wardrobe on the floor, begging to be stepped on.

“RELAX?! NOT CLEAN?!” you swerved around to face him, “YOU DON’T CLEAN, I CLEAN” an angry finger pointed at yourself, “You don’t do shit! I clean the bathroom, I clean the kitchen, I’m almost always the one picking up after dinner-” “That is not true and you know it”

You chose to ignore his comment as you continued working yourself up to a full blown rage-fit, “I do the laundry-”

“I do it too!” 

“You do it when I ask! I make the bed, I take out the trash”

“You barely ever do that, I almost always take it when I go to work-”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!” your high pitched screech made Eddie flinch for the third time tonight and it shut him right up. “Its like I’m living with a fucking child. You're a man-child Eddie. You don’t do shit unless I ask you too, and the only reason you take out the trash is because I had to nag you for two whole months! I am not your mother! I shouldn't have to do this!!” 

Oh how you would have loved to just come home to those almond brown eyes, adorable dimples and smiling lips. How you would have loved to just rewind from the five hour flight home from Wyoming after your shitty conference, just strip off, take a warm bath, listen to music and then wrap up with Eddie in bed while you watched Bob’s Burgers and munched on takeout. Exhaustion ached in your limbs and pulled at your shoulders, it crept up within all the tight seams of your pencil skirt and blouse, it pricked at your heels and toes from those stupid stilettos. It itched in the nylon stockings, it ripped at your throat, it squeezed at your scalp, begging someone to release your hair from the confines of the tight bun your hair was wrapped in. It urged and pleaded with you to take a breath and relax. But you couldn't and wouldn’t let it win. 

“I am not a fucking child” and he had the audacity to scoff at you. As if the garbage dump you were surrounded by wasn't already adding fuel to the fire that puff of air definitely did. “Yes! Yes you are! You are 25 years old and you only just moved out of your poor uncles trailer-” 

“Hey I slept on the couch since I was 21 all the way up to 24” 

“And Wayne slept on it since you were six! He’s a fifty year old man, now with a bad back because of you!” 

“Ok can we please not bring him into this?” 

While it most definitely was a good point on your end, you decided to respect his wishes, it was a little, ok, very mean to bring it up and use it against him. Using one of his weakest points against him when you knew it was one of his most shameful regrets. “Fine! How about we talk about you not being able to get of your fucking ass, get your shit together and be a fucking adult sooner? Huh?” 

“Fuck you, I got a job the second I graduated and started saving. Not everyone is as fucking perfect as you and live on their own since they were 17” His eyes screwed tightly shut the second he heard the words fly out of his mouth. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” oh now you were properly angry, how dare he? “I WAS NOT PERFECT I WAS HOMELESS! FOR THREE YEARS!!” angry red hot tears threatened to spill from your water lines at the fact that you had to explain this to him. “I am so sorry baby, I didn't mean it” callused hands found your waist and slipped to wrap around you. 

“Get the fuck off me!” another set of hands pushed with force at his naked chest, willing him off you. “Don't you dare touch me right now” before you could even think over the words you were saying they had already left your throat; “In fact don't touch me at all” well you’d said it now and you sure as hell weren’t going back on your words. 

“What?” his frown only angered you further, you were only an inch close to tipping point, rage boiling throughout your veins, and if you let yourself you were sure you were about to start kicking, screaming, throwing both fists and any object within range at the walls as well as Eddie. “I said DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME, don’t even come near me you’re disgusting” venom was laced in your words as you spat the insult at him. 

“Really you think I’m disgusting?” the annoyed disbelief in Eddie's tone made you actually want to cry, it was as if you were talking to a wall, he wasn't registering a single thing you were saying to him other than the fact that you were having -in his opinion- a bitchfit. You turned away from him in desperation, not being able to look at him. When your eyes fell onto Eddie's bedside table you found the perfect evidence to your point. Stomping over to it you held up the pair of black boxers oh-so carefully thrown onto his lamp. “This Eddie, this is fucking disgusting” you held the underwear up by the waist band to him in show. 

Meeting his eyes you found them wide and swimming with fear, you frowned in confusion, looking back to the underwear and then the bedside table and then you found the icing on the cake, the cherry on top. 

Next to a knocked over bottle of lotion were multiple scrunched up tissues. Dropping the underwear you picked one of them up, holding it out for him. “Is this cum?” the disbelief in both your voice and face caused for an unreadable expression on Eddie's end. “Is this actually fucking semen I am holding right now?!” The wrinkles in Eddie's nose, the scrunched fearful pout and half lidded eyes, forced closed with the movement of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 

“EEEEWWW” you screeched, “THE BIN IS RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE! Oh my god, I can’t, I’m fucking leaving, fuck this” you stormed past him out in to the open area again. “I am really really sorry” his pleading was lost on you. “Don't” you held a hand up to silence him, “When I come back all this shit” you waved your hands around to showcase the apartment, “-better be gone and properly cleaned up” 

“Wha- Where are you going?” 

“I don’t fucking know but I can’t be here” 

“No baby, please let's just talk about this” his hand reached out to stop yours from grabbing the handbag next to your duffel. “I said don’t touch me! I’m cutting you off!” he frowned at that as you ripped your hand away from him, grabbing the bag and angrily throwing it over your shoulder. “What do you mean you're cutting me off?” true confusion sounded in his words as you turned towards him. “It means until you’ve gotten this fucking shit sorted you’re not touching me, you’re not even going to look at me unless its my face and nowhere else and you sure as hell arent getting kisses, hugs” you began counting off on your fingers as Eddie scoffed “blowjobs, handjobs, boobjobs, you’re not gonna finger me, eat me out, or do anything to me and we’re not gonna be having sex for a looong time” he seemed to finally understand that you were in fact being serious because realisation crept up on his face. A slight hint of desperation showed its trace before it was replaced with mean smugness.

“It’s a two person thing sweetheart, it's not just for me, it’s for the both of us” 

“Yeah? Well I can actually survive without it” your eyebrows raised, anticipating his next words and already prepared with the ‘Oh really?’ look to shame him with. “Puh I can survive without it” he scoffed, Eddie Munson had become predictable, to you anyway, because the look was right on point. “Just last night you were texting me, begging me to go on facetime with you” 

“Couples do that, it's called phone sex” he rolled his eyes. “The night before too, oh! And the night before that as well!” he rolled his eyes harder this time “Wow you caught me I missed my girlfriend jesus christ” you weren't really believing the words you were about to utter, but at this point he was just getting on your nerves with his stupid responses, “Ya’ know what? I don’t think you did miss your girlfriend, everything is about sex with you, it wouldn’t come as a fucking suprise if you’re only in this relationship to get your dick wet, bet all those fucking ‘I love you baby’, ‘I wanna get married and have kids with you’, ‘You mean the world to me’ don’t even mean shit” you whined his quotes, hurt began to show on his face but you chose to push through, “You’re just a fuckin’ manipulator, saying shit cuz you know it’ll get you some” 

The hurt feelings etched in his face dissipated and replaced with anger not unlike your own, “You know that's not true! You know you’re the best fuckin’ thing in my life. Jesus Christ I’m so fuckin sorry I didn’t clean up after myself when literally no one was around to fucking see it! I’m SO sorry that I just wanted a relaxing weekend after slaving away working on trashed cars for clients who treat me like shit!” it was your time to scoff as his voice raised and he was close to shouting. 

The whole thing was too much, nothing had prepared you for this, all you had expected was to come home and spend some quality time with your boyfriend. “I can guarantee you my work is much fucking harder for me” 

“Don't pull that card” 

“Oh no, no I will. Do you have a boss breathing down your neck, pestering you to do his and everyone else's work? No. Do you have 13 hour work days? No. Is your commute to work 3 hours back and forth? No. Do you have wretched coworkers who think it's ok to have a conversation with your boobs? No! Do you have coworkers rubbing up on you without permission? NO! Do you have coworkers who hit on you despite you making it clear you don't want to? Who want sexual favours in exchange for picking up extra shifts? Who threaten to rape you because they don’t get what they want? NO THE FUCK YOU DON’T SO GO AHEAD AND FUCK YOURSELF” neighbours would no doubt be coming up any minute to complain or check on you. If this continued you'd be having a police report on your hands by the morning. 

Tears were running down your cheeks uncontrollably, your voice shook while crescent moons threatened to scar on your palms from how hard you were clenching your fists. Panic spread throughout your body at retelling the tales Eddie had heard long ago, tales you had left dead and buried, tales you had protected yourself from. “I KNOW YOU HAVE IT TOUGH OK? YOU'VE HAD A TOUGH LIFE! BUT SO HAVE I! I JUST WANTED TO RELAX!!” Eddie was shouting now too, his height towering over you as the panic continued to spread, to infect the veins which pumped your blood and leave nothing behind but a rotten carcass. 

For once in your relationship the prospect of Eddie was terrifying to you. The anger in his eyes, in his face, in his whole body. Men were capable of anything, and one wrong button pushed and everything could change, you were a strong independent woman but at the end of the day Eddie was a man, and up against each other, the man will always win. 

“YOU HAD A TOUGH LIFE TILL YOU WERE SIX YEARS OLD! YOU DON'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!!” Anger overtook the terrifying freight that accompanied the panic, the anger was too strong to take a step back from, assess the situation and consider what you might be getting yourself into. But once the loudest scream of the night had been shouted, had rang throughout the room, you got that chance. You needed to calm down, not just for the sake of the argument or your relationship but for the sake of your body and your life. It didn't matter that Eddie could never hurt a fly, it didn't matter that he would shriek in disapproval whenever someone was about to squash a bug, it didn't matter that he still put out food for the raccoons in the alley behind the auto shop, it didn't matter that he spent almost every waking second cherishing you and reminding you of how deep his love for you ran. At the end of the day. He. Was. Still. A. Man. 

You sighed, “I’m not even gonna get into what my life has been like because I know you know. So just fuck off yeah? Clean up this fucking pigstie and don’t speak to me” you could have continued, you could have gone through your whole life story once again. You could have used the fact that your parents had abandoned you in an orphanage before you could even make any sound other than crying, that the orphanage had shut down in your teens, that you had no one else and lived off scraps, food from dumpsters and eventually soup kitchens, you could have used the fact that you ended up in the arms of a man three times your age who used you for your body and fed you delusions about his love for you against him. But your body ached, ached with tiredness, panic, anger and just about every other negative emotion, you couldn't deal with the shouting, the digging up the past, it was just too much. 

Just as he was about to open his mouth you turned and within seconds you were out of the door and out of sight, running away from the problem as fast as your legs would take you, running away just like you always did. Avoiding the problems. 

The chill night air didn't start nipping at your skin until you’d run as far as you could muster, you couldn't have known that the dismissal of changing into comfortable clothes before the flight would be biting you in the ass. Just as you couldn't have known that a shoeless, shirtless Eddie was running down onto the street in search of you but came up short, with no knowledge of where you were or even what direction you were headed. 

Once you slowed to a stop outside a closed cafe the world seemed to come into view again. Your feet and legs were aching, just like every other part of your body, tears were streaming down your face, your lungs were screaming from the pressure, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Looking around your suffering only intensified when you realised you were sat outside Another Broken Egg Cafe, the central hotspot for yours and Eddie's classic autumn dates, curled up in the corner while rain poured down the windows. A loud sob broke out onto the empty side street, nothing but the light of the street lamps to keep you company as your phone rang. Your lungs heaved as the photo of Eddie wrapped around you with a wet kiss landed to your cheek at Steve’s welcomed you lovingly to accompany Eddie's call. Collapsing onto the step of the door to the mom and pop’s coffee shop you let out a silent sob, eyes shut tight, temple meeting the wall as snot and tears alike streamed down your face. 

The ringing kept egging the tears and panic on so you clicked the off button twice, declining his call and letting silence seep into the dark night. Within seconds the ringing started up again, switching your sound off you set the phone down onto the concrete step and let your head fall into your hands while you quieted down. 

The soft cream blouse offered you no warmth whatsoever when you finally levelled to even breaths and wiped off your bodily fluids on the sleeve of it. The relief of finally letting your hair out and slipping your shoes off only lasted so long before a strong gust of wind interfered with your short lived stability. With time you picked up your phone, opening it up to see 18 missed calls and a near 40 texts within the 20 minutes you'd sat down and an extra 10 you'd spent running. 

A mixture of information texts on your missed calls from your operator and Eddies worried ranting took up the space of your lockscreen before you clicked on the latest one and scrolled up in the chat:

Roommate 🙄

This is now your funeral picture babe

Oh fuck off 

Nope promise, everybody gotta see this

You suck 🖕

Yeah but you swallow ;)

Oh gtg, meetings starting, ill . text you tonight bye love you . ❤️

Ok bye princess, good luck, love you too ❤️

10.04 pm

Where the fuck did you go?

Seriously answer me right now!

I need to know where you are

You cant just run off we need to talk about this

Y/N seriously 

Pick up the phone!!!

This is serious we need to talk about this

Come home right now

Im not fucking around

Come home

Now

You need to come home we need to discuss this 

Answer the phone!!

I know youre mad at me but we need to communicate with each other

I dont like you just running off when youre not in the right headspace

Babe seriously where are you?

Princess please pick up the phone I’m rly worried

Baby please I need to know youre ok

Please just answer the call

Or at least text me so i know ur ok 

Please baby i love you so much❤️

I just want to know youre ok

Just send me your location and i can come pick you up 

Please honey im begging you pick up the phone

Ill clean up the bedroom and you can chill in there while i clean❤️

Sweetheart i beg of you, answer the phone

Please just tell me where you are so i can  come pick you up

I need to know youre ok

Please dont just be ignoring me, i just wanna know youre ok

Its freezing out you dont have a jacket baby 

Srsly youre going to catch a cold

Y/N please, we dont have to talk if you dont 

want to i just want to know youre safe

I need to know youre safe

Please baby 

Youre freaking me out 

Please just pick up the phone 

I feel sick knowing youre just out in the city somewhere 

I just want to know youre ok 

Theres really sketchy people out here, just tell me youre safe

Please let me know youre safe???

. . . 

He's still typing in the chat when you finally finish reading his texts, a sinking feeling surrounds your stomach as you sigh, you weren't ready to make up yet and you definitely weren't in the mood to see or talk to him. 

Roommate  🙄

I'm fine. 

Oh thank god!

Where are you princess? 

I don't want to tell you but I’m ok, just give me a sec and I’ll tell you ok?

Ok baby ❤️

Thoughts were swimming around your head while you exited the app, you knew he was clearly quite worried and at least he did respect your wish not to tell him but you really didn't feel ready to explain everything to him, have to be picked up and have a no doubt long talk about the whole ordeal. All you wanted to do was to sleep. 

“Wassup sexy?” Robin’s cheery voice was what caused relief to rush through you as she picked up the phone. “Hi” your tired and admittedly sad voice was not lost on her and it showed when an almost probably equally worried tone matched the one Eddie would have occupied if you had picked up the phone. In reality Eddie's voice would have probably sounded ten times worse than Robin’s “Hey are you ok? You sound sad”. You breathe an eerie chuckle, “Yeah I’m fine, listen I’m sat outside a coffee shop right now, I couldn't handle being in the house, me and Eddie had a fight, don't worry it’ll be ok but can you come pick me up?” 

“I mean yeah of course, but where's Eddie?” 

“I’m not actually sure, I think he’s in the apartment but more likely he's either texting and driving or running around looking for me. I just” you sigh, “I just don't want to see him right now, I’m texting him but can you please just come pick me up?” 

“Course babes, just send me your location and i’ll be right there”

“Thanks” 

You send off a pin on the map of where you are before you open up Eddie's text chat again. 

Roommate  🙄

I’m on 86th outside ABE but Robin is gonna come pick me up and were going to hers i think

Ur going to robins?

You dont want me to come pick you up?

I’m heading back to the apartment i can just pick up the van and go find u

Yeah I’m sure, I’m sorry baby but I just need some time to think before I talk about it

Got alot going on in my head, just need to figure it out first yk?

I promise I’m ok, were ok, i love you so much ok?

Ok princess, just update me yeah?

Yeah i will

You think maybe you could switch your live  location on snap or something? Or share it for like an hour? Just until youre at Robins

I just wanna know youre ok, itll give me peace of mind 

Ok 

*You started sharing live location*

Thank you baby, I love you so much❤️

I love you too ❤️

Robin came to pick you up within 15 minutes, letting you rant about your feelings the car ride home and offered to sit with you while you took a bath. She helped you come to the realisation that despite Eddie's flaws you couldn't help but love him indefinitely after the past two years where your bond had grown stronger than either you or Eddie had ever experienced with someone else. Although with minimal contact throughout the evening you finally managed to make sense of all the feelings, deciding what you needed was a proper conversation about the situation you had landed yourself in and probably a little time with some space in between you to mull over whatever the outcome of the discussion would be.  Texting Eddie you fell asleep content on Robin's couch. The soft worn green pillows enveloping you in a warm hug along with the teddy fleece blanket over the pair of forgotten sweats you'd left at Robin’s helping you drift off with ease. 

–

Thanks to the cancelled work trip you got the luxury of relaxing on monday, rolling out of bed -or couch more accurately- with a slight tinge in your back. Stretching with a loud yawn you unplugged your phone and wandered over to the bathroom, plopping down on the toilet to catch up with your missed notifications. The time read 10.43 am thanks to the daily alarm you switched off the day before. 

Roommate  🙄 4h ago

Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but  wanted to say good morning  ❤️ more

Penis hater 🍆 2h ago

Saw you were still asleep so didnt want  to wake you, going to work now, help more

Snapchat

Mommy Steve sent you a snap

Stonerboy sent you a snap

Google maps 39 min ago

You stopped sharing location with  Eddiemunson@gmail.com

A few other random notifications took up the space on your screen before you opened up your phone, responding to Eddie first you wrote;

Roommate  🙄

Ok goodnight honey, sleep well, i love you

Good night ❤️hope you can sleep  without me haha

You know damn well I can't 🙄

Today 6.32

Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but wanted to say good morning  ❤️ I love you so so much, I’m assuming since the trip was cancelled you get  today off anyway? Either way have a good day, will you be sleeping at home tonight?... I miss you x

Good morning <3 yeah got the  day off, just woke up, yeah i’ll be at home 2night, when do you get off? 

Think its good we have that talk  sooner rather than later

Knowing he was probably busy with his heavy workload at the auto shop you opened up Robins text and responded to that too;

Penis hater 🍆

Gtg, meeting starting

Aight see ya loser!

Bye assface!

Today 8.27

Saw you were still asleep so didnt want to wake you, at work now, help yourself to anything in the fridge but theres leftover pizza if you want that, house keys  are on the kitchen table, just post them through the letterbox when you leave dickhead ❤️❤️❤️

Thank u sm for letting me sleep here, rly robs i appreciate it. Will do!

No probs, always a pleasure to blast out my eardums to cover up your snoring when I’m trying to sleep

Excuse me bitch, I do not snore, if anything your whining and thrashing around in bed woke ME up!

Making me sound like Tina Belcher when you say that… 

That was in fact the intended effect

🖕whatever bro gtg, Steves gonna beat my ass if i extend my toilet break past 30 min

You know a normal toilet break is 5 min right??

Fuck off

Robin answered within seconds of your text, taking the first of many useless breaks to scroll her phone and annoy Steve at the coffee shop downtown. You chuckled at her last text before you began your own 30 minute session of scrolling your phone endlessly on the toilet. By the time 1pm rolled around you had munched on Robin's leftovers, cleaned up the couch, and answered some emails from work, hopping on an IndyGo bus and trampling up the stairs in the early afternoon. 

You had left the change of clothes in Robin's hamper to be left till the next time you crashed at her place and were aching to get out of yesterday's attire the second you stepped through the door. You felt relieved as the newly found state of the apartment greeted you, slightly heartwarmed too but quickly dismissed, your stubbornness not letting you appreciate the fact that Eddie had done a basic human task. The rest of the day was spent in relaxation, despite the bath you had yesterday you felt the opportunity for a selfcare spa day on your day off was too good to pass up. Eddie had texted you here and there throughout the day regretfully telling you he had to work through lunch and couldn't make a phone call but that he would be home latest 6 pm. You did feel regretful however when you thought of your words last night, or more specifically Eddie's words and your dismissal of them. His work had been really hectic recently. The neighbouring venue The Two Brothers Auto Shop had lacked customers over the summer and had been forced to shut down. Their regular customers had found their way over to Safe Haven Automotive where Eddie was employed and Eddie's workload had been almost doubled and it was undoubtedly taking a toll on him. 

You decided you would apologise later. 

-

A heavy sigh escaped your boyfriend's lips as he stepped over the threshold to your shared home, immediately dropping his bags on the floor and stretching his back, joints popping audibly with the movement. Upon hearing his arrival you sauntered out of the bedroom, with a shy and admittedly slightly awkward smile, his face broke into a wide sunshine smile as his gaze met yours “Hi” he bent down to unlace his boots as you leaned up against the kitchen island next to him, “Hi” your voice was soft when he straightened up again. Wanting to make sure there was no awkward tension you leaned up and pecked him on the lips, it was best if you were on moderately good terms, you hadn't had such a big fight with Eddie before, only the occasional argument, so the concept of having to talk the whole thing through was new to you. You were adamant on it going well and making sure the environment was relatively calm was the best way at making sure it went over smoothly. 

“Just gonna go have a shower and then we can talk yeah? I brought poké bowls” he picked up the paper bag from next to his bag as you nodded, beginning to unpack all the items as he made his way to the bathroom. Not long after he was freshly showered and changed, damp hair cascading over his shoulders as he sat down on the opposite side of the couch. Despite the topic of the evening you allowed yourself to admire his sleek hips leading down to a pair of grey sweatpants, scanning the tattoos littered over his torso in adoration and smiling as you inspected his face. Relaxed and slack, neutral with no tug of his plush pink lips, beads of water running down his forehead threatening to collect in the lush lashes of what you so lovingly liked to call his ‘baby cow eyes’. 

Once he was sat with an ankle pushed under his thigh connecting to the food limp on the floor with his can of san pellegrino opened on the table and a cardboard bowl of cool rice, salmon and an assortment of vegetables you began. “So, first and foremost I would like to apologise” Eddie hummed to assure you he was listening as he took a large spoonful of the summery goodness. “I’m sorry for shouting and storming off, I didn't mean to worry you, I was just like in panic mode or something. And I’m really sorry for some of the things I said” he swallowed down a gulp of his drink while you selected a mixture of chilli mayonnaise coated tofu, avocado and rice. Bringing it to your mouth with the supplied pair of chopsticks, it would always be funny to you how Eddie struggled and became frustrated with the pair of wooden sticks and opting for a spoon instead. 

“Ok well thank you sweetheart, I too would like to apologise, I really didn't mean to raise my voice or to invalidate your feelings,  jesus why does this sound so formal? Anyway, I promise I didn't plan for you to come home to all that or the mess, I had planned on cleaning up after work today. But I guess that's not much better cuz’ as you said, it shouldn't really have been that bad in the first place..” you could sense the strain in his voice at admitting his ultimately largest flaw, but you were grateful he did and that he put an effort into resolving this. Although you had a sneaking suspicion he either practised what he was going to say beforehand or hand a secondary source on how to address you. 

“About that, I think we both know what we did wrong, and maybe how to go about it differently in the future, yeah I do not like how formal this sounds either” the laugh that rumbled your chest eased a weight on Eddie's shoulders as well as invited him to join. “But I do think it's something that would be good on working on… and not just for my sake but yours too, like partly I don't really want to do most of the work around here-” “And you wont! I promise” you smiled at Eddie's interruption “but you're also kind of… scatterbrained? And I think maybe working on routines could benefit you. You know like having all your clothes and things ready in the morning, that way you don't have to run up and down from the parking lot because you forgot your keycard or your phone or something.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement of your words, it was clear he was thinking over the idea “I mean I could try, it's just you know difficult, I can’t keep track of everything and I forget and I think if I start a new routine I’m gonna forget that too.” There was a trace of shame in his tone as he accepted yet another one of his flaws. “Ok well first off, you need a calendar, either a paper one or your phone, I think your phone would be better though because that way its almost always on you and you can write down important dates like meetings the second you hear about them” he nodded as he listened to your suggestions “Secondly, building up routines like laying out your clothes and keys and stuff the evening before, or packing your bag” 

He frowned softly in between bites of his food, “Yeah but how am I even going to manage to stick to them long enough that they become the regular” this conversation seemed to be going much better than you had anticipated. You had of course hoped for the best but still wanted to be prepared in case another fight broke out but Eddie was properly listening to you, nevermind apologising but seemed willing to do something to change for the better. 

You smirked at him slightly evilly as you took another mouthful, “So, remember what I said last night” you had said a lot of things last night “About the sex?” a slight sneer spread over Eddie's features as he realised you might be considering sticking to your word. He was right. “So Robin had this idea that if we did that, it might give you some incentive.” he couldn't help the low groan of annoyance “Ok believe me, I am not just in this for the sex, but really?..” 

“I know you're not” you smiled happily, you knew that even before you’d said it “But it might motivate you to stick to your routines until, like you said, they become regular. Just until you become used to it” his head rolled back on his shoulders, trying but failing to suppress a whine, he didn't want your actual idea of him to be a man-child. You giggled softly at his reaction, there was indescribable pride settling in your shoulders at the desperation of wanting to be with you. “Ok well how long’s that gonna take?” he sat up again, placing his food down onto the table and taking another large gulp of the carbonated drink. 

“I dunno, we’ll just have to see I guess, maybe a few weeks?” you shrugged, “Weeks?!” his wide eyed stare caused for a burst of laughter from you, struggling to keep your food in your mouth, “It's up to you, how quickly you learn and how motivated you are to actually do this” 

“Oh i’m very fucking motivated”

“So you’ll do it?” 

“I will, on one condition”

“I’m listening” 

“I still get to kiss and hold you”

A wide smile cut over your face and you nodded “Ok deal”. The rest of the evening was spent eating your delicious meal and both going over arrangements as well as talking through feelings and solutions. It had been weighing on you ever since the original apology, you weren't sure if you wanted to address it or even accept it but judging by the honesty and will Eddie shared to improve you decided it was best to communicate about his too. 

“Ok so there was one thing I wanted to kind of talk about too” his hand reached for the remote control and paused the display of Rick and Morty on the old TV screen, looking down at the crown of your head where you sat leaned on his legs crossed at the calves, your back against his chest and head resting on his shoulder. “It doesn't really have much to do with you, more myself, but I dunno I thought it would be good for you to know or something” 

“I’m listening” he placed a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of the various products embedded in the fibres of each strand from your bath. “Well I don't mean this as any like attack on you or that I have any specific feelings towards you specifically about it” he had no idea what you were on about as his cheek preplaced his lips on your head, but he trusted you would explain. “I got kind of… scared… yesterday, when you got angry, and like I know i got angry too don't get me wrong” his cheek left you and in response you turned your head to face him, “It's just like, I know you would never you know do anything like that, or at least I hope” you chose to ignore the expression resting on his features and push through “But like you're still a man, and no matter how strong I am or whatever, men can still, or well they're capable… of… you know, doing quite alot” 

A sad pout tugged at his lips as he looked down at you “Baby, I am so sorry, I would never do anything like that but I should have thought about like the whole picture, with your past and all and yeah just the fact that I’m, yeah a man” the lamp next to the couch glinting in his eye made his expression all the more sincere, you smiled softly, “Thank you, I just thought you should know” the moment was so tender in the dim lighting of the room and nightfall fell behind the closed curtains of the windows, nothing more than a whisper needed to break the magical spell on Indianapolis. “Thank you for telling me baby” his kiss was equally as soft on your lips as his voice had been to your ears. 

Before pressing the button on the remote again you pointed at him “But just know if you ever hit me, I will be kicking you in the balls and reaching for my taser” Eddie chuckled as he grinned “A fair punishment” 

11 pm rolled around, punctuated by a wide yawn, you huffed a laugh as Eddie's pointer finger quickly prodded at the back of your throat, one of his regular habits he had when he saw you yawn. “Alright, I gotta be up at 5 tomorrow so I’m gonna head to bed” you stretched as you sat up, disgruntled by the loss of Eddie's warm embrace, “When do you start tomorrow?” he asked, copying your movements before gathering what was left of your meal. Your heart squeezed as you watched Eddie already picking up his new habit of cleaning up around the house, following him into the open kitchen you poured yourself a glass of water as Eddie placed the leftovers in the fridge and the rest in the trash. 

“Uh 7” you thought as he manoeuvred around you, “Alright well if you want I can drive you, just gonna have to stay later at work”

 “What? No that's ok, I’ll just take the bus”

“You sure? I don't mind taking you” 

“When would you be leaving otherwise?”

“Uh probably like today so 6.30”

“You texted me while driving??”

He closed the fridge and made his way to stand in front of you, hands resting loosely on your hips just below the arm you had crossed over your waist, the other holding the glass to your chest. “No I was in traffic” he chuckled before bending down to press a kiss to your lips. “Oh ok” you shrugged as he pulled away, raising your voice while you walked over to the bedroom to place your water down onto the bedside table “So when would you be home?”

“If I work through lunch hopefully 6 otherwise 7ish” he called from the bathroom, lathering up creamy toothpaste onto his brush. “Jesus christ hopefully this whole thing will die down soon” you pouted in sympathy as you slid in next to him, he shrugged “Eh, least I’m making some more money. Gonna buy you something pretty” he grinned before beginning his nightly routine. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, he'd already gotten the ‘I don't need you to buy me anything’ talk and was well used to it by now. “Ok well would you mind staying later if i came over for lunch?” you smiled. A gargled response came from around the green plastic dangling from his mouth while some white foam escaped his lips and dribbled down his smile line, you laughed at the view “Just answer later” your own response was muffled but only slightly as you spoke. 

He nodded and continued his vigorous attack on his teeth, something you often frowned upon telling him he'd damage his gums if he continued that way. He knew exactly what you were thinking when he was shot a disapproving glare through the mirror, he grinned wildly around his toothbrush, prompting even more foam to coat his chin, but to your satisfaction he slowed his movements to a gentle appropriate pace. 

On instinct you shot a hand out to hold his hair out of his face as he spat out the residue and washed out his mouth. Leaning over in front of you he rubbed his face on the towel to dry his face off, you almost toppled over backwards from the steep bend but Eddie was already at your rescue with an arm around your back. He slid back into his place and wrapped both arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching your reflection in the mirror. “Lunch sounds good but I’m not letting you take the bus all the way across town, I’ll just pick something up along the way and we can sit in the breakroom” he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek before standing up to let you repeat Eddies actions of spitting, rinsing and drying. 

“Mm mm” you shook your head “Not the breakroom, we can just sit in my office” you answered Eddies look of question as you smoothed cool moisturiser over your face, “I can't be bothered listening to Brenda recount every single detail of the same trip we were both on” Eddie chuckled, warmth spreading through his body at the adorable wrinkle of your nose in disgust, “I mean seriously, ‘Oh my god did you hear Clarence joke? It was sooooo funny!’ like yes bro I was there, in the room. She’s recounting every single detail of her room, despite the fact that they’re all fucking identical, I swear soon she’ll be telling me about her shits in grave detail” the hearty laugh you witnessed in the mirror and felt against your shoulderblades had a genuinely happy smile dazzling your face. His happiness rubbed off on you. 

“Alright, no breakroom, got it” he chuckled and pulled away squeezing your asscheek before making his way out the door “Ap ap ap” your tsk had him turning around in confusion “No touching” you smirked, “What you said I could hold you?”

“Yeah hold me, not touch my ass, or boobs for that matter, and definitely no thighs unless its 100% wholesome”

“What, that was wholesome!” 

“Mmmmn was it?” he rolled his eyes before continuing his way towards the bedroom. Soon enough you joined him to see him pull his sweatpants off, “You know I was thinking” he looked up to meet your gaze, once again the small subtle action of him trying had your heart squeezing, he folded his sweatpants up and tossed them in a drawer in the closet so casually it amazed you he wasn't making a show of it to gain some praise. “Maybe you should sleep on the couch, what with the incentive and all” 

“What?” his face fell as he turned, “Yeah, more distance ya’ know?” his silence told you everything, “I’m kidding!” you laughed as he let out a loud sigh in relief. 

You laid notice to the fact that Eddie was folding up his coveralls, tossing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt next to the pile of various daily trinkets. The small action meant so much to you, it proved he was actually trying and it made you ache in all the best ways. Soon enough you were snuggled up under the covers with your head on his chest and dozing off.

–

Tuesday morning was much less stressful than any normal one and you sat on the bus listening to Eddie rant on the phone how big the difference had been after preparing the night before, you were completely sure he was sucking up a little bit but you let him go on before saying a goodbye when you got off the bus and made your way over to your office. You were also eternally grateful for his timely arrival just as Brenda made her way over to you with her lunchbox, “Oh I’m so sorry Brenda, Eddies here but I’ll see you later yeah?” ok maybe you were known as slightly bitchy or more accurately a complete bitch in the office but you really weren't in the mood to make idle conversation with the middle aged californian lady for a whole hour. 

“Hia!” you greeted with shining warmth as Eddie passed the front desk, subway bag in hand and an equally bright smile on his face. He pecked you on the lips before following you to your office, pulling his phone out to show the near two hour time slot in his calendar that read lunch with my beautiful girlfriend. You laughed as he explained he had already started with his work on a calendar. 

You managed to make it five minutes before a knock sounded at the door, answered with your breezy ‘come in!’ Michael frowned in confusion at your tone before spotting Eddie on the other side of your desk, “Oh hey Ed, uh here's those spreadsheets you asked for” he handed you a folder and waited patiently while you did a once over of the contents, smiling when he was dismissed. 

The first interaction of your disruptions was much cheerier than the other 6 who filtered into your office to ask for advice, hand over assignments and intending to go over the statistics of paid leave. “Jesus” Eddie marvelled once the door closed “They do this all the time?” he took the last bite of his sandwich before crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the bag. “Yup, all the time” you sighed in exasperation. “How the fuck do you get any work done?” he frowned, but softened into delight as he bit into his chocolate chip cookie. 

“I stay late” you shrugged, “Why do you think I work every other saturday and work 7 to 8 or 10pm? Or well 11” the self deprecating laugh you let out had Eddie's face painted in concern and sympathy while a tinge of annoyance showed in his eyes. “Can't you just like put up a sign saying do not disturb?” you shrugged again, taking a ship of your drink “I guess”

“I really think you should” 

Lunch passed and after what felt like an eternity you were jumping out of your skin at the sound of a loud honk next to you on the sidewalk. “Jesus fucking christ!” you shrieked when you saw Eddie's wide grin peep through the rolled down window as he leant over the centre console. He saved you from a 10 minute walk from the bus stop while chatting to you about your day. 

“We really have to stop getting takeout so much” you moaned through a mouthful of butter masala, the burst of flavours sending rhythmic waves of delight and calm through your body. “I know, but neither of us have the energy to cook so-” he shrugged “takeout it is”. 

He had skipped his ritual shower and opted for washing his hands before digging in but soon he was shucking his jeans off and scrolling his phone on the toilet. You knew instantly where the text was coming from when it came through, it was comical to see the three notifications on your phone alerting you that E.Munster had liked your instagram posts and then a grey rectangle at the top of your screen; 

Roommate  🙄 now

So I know we said no touching but like… 

Can I touch myself?...

Your laughter echoed throughout the apartment while you shouted “Nope!” your laughter doubled in volume when you heard a loud groan from the bathroom. 

Roommate  🙄

But I’m so horny….

Arent you literally on the toilet?

Not anymore, I'm about to have a shower

Ah well sorry baby, nooooope

Mean 

HAHAHAHAHAHA

You know, I feel like you posted that bikini pic on purpose

Who knows

…

What?

Are you jerking off????

Eddie!

No! 

Belive it or not I am very keen on making this process as short as possible

Ur just a tease

Thats all 

Good, yeah its fun, you . shouldnt try it tho

Hahaha

Maybe I should 

No, no thats ok

Once again you were snuggled up with Eddie in bed, revelling in the embrace of apple scented shampoo, charcoal body wash and something so uniquely Eddie. 

–

To your pleasure, your day had been peacefully quiet for the first time in a month, with multiple of your staff sat in meetings throughout the day you managed to get through your workload plus some extra missed invoices and orders and even got a head start on an upcoming project. Being an accountant director for Riley Hospital wasn't always the easiest or simplest job but it had its moments. Even more so when you found the receptionist Stephanie had refilled the French roast capsules for the coffee machine and made a spread of various pastries in the breakroom. You were on a high, having a great day, topping off the icing on the cake with the mouthwatering left overs from your dinner the night before. Sometimes, just sometimes, everything in life could work out and it left you with a bright smile on your lips as you left the building and made your way over to the bus. 

The glee seemed to radiate off you as Eddie broke into a happy grin, skin stretching taught over his muscles and leaving his cheeks aching when he was greeted by in his opinion ‘absolute shit music’ bouncing around the room from the google nest in the corner of the living room with you shaking your hips from side to side, the occasional attempt at twerking while you stirred the creme fraiche, bell pepper and halloumi pasta sauce in a pan. 

After a soothing shower nearly screaming along with the music of your ‘Main Girl’ playlist you had changed into a pair of black skin tight booty shorts framing your curves under an oversized Rammstein t-shirt draped over your torso, pulled down at the front to the tips of your thighs, the hem tucked in at the back of your shorts giving Eddie a delicious view while you moved about.

You screamed in horror jumping 3 feet into the air when you heard Eddies cheery “Hey” he burst out laughing as you clutched your chest in an attempt to even your breathing. While he untied his boots you made your way over to the couch to turn Ayesha Erotica’s Hands Up! down to a more respectable volume. “You seem to be in a good mood” he commented as he began washing his hands in the kitchen sink, “I am” you grinned while going back to your cooking “Budgeting and accounting were in meetings all day so I only had to deal with some of the payroll staff” you told him as he dried his hands and began emptying his pockets onto the kitchen island. “That's great” you couldn't see his smile but you didn't have to, it was for himself, his own quiet glory in your victory, happy and relieved for you. 

“Oh and guess what!” you turned to face him “I had so much free time today I caught up on everything!” Eddie gaped in shock and pride “And and and! I even got started with the Danaher project so guess who doesn't have to work on saturday!” you squealed while shimmying your shoulders in a victory dance. Eddie laughed as he noticed the natural shape of your boobs sway from side to side with the movement before looking you in the eye “That's awesome!” you proudly nodded at him with a chirpy “mhm!” 

“So we're celebrating with trash music?” he grinned as his hands slithered over your hips to hold at your waist, “Hm I was in a mood” you shrugged and stretched to peck his lips. “Well alright then, Steve sent some texts so I’m just gonna check them and then go wash my face, Imma’ shower after dinner” you nodded and turned back to the food while Eddie circled the kitchen island and bent over to rest his elbows on the marble countertop with his phone in his hands. 

He lied, Steve hadn't texted, in fact he hasn't talked to Steve since yesterday. He was undoubtedly excited about your small victory but the devil on his shoulder controlling part of his brain took over. He just needed one good luck at you before he scuttled off. He was going to be true to his word, no doubt about it, but he didn't mind getting a second to appreciate your figure as you swayed from side to side after instructing Google to turn the volume up. 

When he felt he’d gotten what he searched for he tore his eyes away from you before his body had a chance to act and prove this little celibacy period to be much harder than it already was. He made his way to the bathroom going through his regular motions of de-stressing from work. 

“So, just got a text from Gareth, shit that looks so good” he awed as he caught an eye on the table where you were sat scrolling on your phone. In reality he wasn't sure if he was talking about you or the pasta perfectly plated up on green ceramic, but it didn't matter because you smiled and that was enough to have him matching. “Baby thank you so much for cooking, it looks amazing” you smirked proudly as you put your phone down and began eating. “No problem, came home at 6 today so I had time” the casualness in your voice was betrayed by your excited face, almost saying can you believe that?! He chuckled before shaking his head as if to remember something “Right so anyway, Gareth can't make it to Hellfire tomorrow so were just gonna skip it this week” he explained as he too began digging in. 

The obnoxious moan he let out once the pasta came into contact with his mouth had you almost snorting out your gulp of coke. “Ok cool” you continued after swallowing the liquid back down, “You got any other plans for saturday then?” 

“Well I was thinking we could do something, are you busy?”

“Oh yeah that sounds great, I mean not much, I figured since I'm free I was gonna catch up on some chores so I was planning on going to Circle Centre around noon. I need a new skirt for work, something more casual, I found a super cute denim one at Lucky Brand and stockings, a new pair of sneakers from Journeys cuz’ mine are worn down” you began counting on your fingers “I wanna go check out Hot Topic, top up on some stuff at Bath and Bodyworks, do a foodshop, and a few other bits and bobs” Eddies jaw was slack and eyes wide as he gaped at you slightly, “Oh so not much then?” he shrugged jokingly, you grinned “You can come with me, we’ll get lunch and catch a movie” 

“Sure. Were you actually planning on lugging all that back here on the bus if I would have driven over to Jeff’s?” he asked in disbelief, “Yeah” you shrugged “Figured worst case I’d just shell out for an uber” 

Eddie insisted on cleaning up after dinner even though you told him it was ok, so you spent the time on the counter talking to him about his day while he loaded the dishwasher. Finally he straightened up a few minutes after you had left to do your skincare routine in the bathroom. “Uh is it okay if I shower?..” he cautioned as he peeped through the door, “Yeah why wouldn't it be?” you frowned “Cuz’ of the incentive or whatever” 

“Oh, yeah no it's fine, I’m not the one who needs the incentive so technically I can see you naked but you can’t see me” an evil smirk was directed towards him in the mirror as he shuffled past you into the small space, dropping a pair of clean boxers and his usual sweats onto the edge of the counter. He gave you a playful grimace of annoyance before pulling at the neck of his t-shirt, you thought nothing of it as he tossed it onto the toilet lid, instead focusing on making sure the mixture of serum on your face didn't drip too far. 

Your hand stopped mid motion as you rubbed it into your skin, your jaw dropped slightly as Eddie pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs. It had always amazed you how Eddie still managed to appear big without even being hard, and it was definitely hitting you right between the thighs as you watched him in the mirror. Almost like a gut punch but instead it was.. A pussy punch?... Eddie wasn’t even a shower, he was a grower for sure, fucking enormous when he was actually aroused. It had taken you more than a normal amount of time to get used to him when you first started dating. 

He stepped out of the denim fabric and dropped them onto the t-shirt. You got the chance to admire him completely, thick muscly thighs covered in a light pattern of hair down to his equally muscly calves. A thick lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it dryly as he stood back up from pulling his socks off. Tattoos painted perfectly into his skin all along his sleek figure, only the beginning of your own private gallery destined to show up later in life. You eyed the shape of his hips, that v-muscle that always had your mouth watering, the soft trace of his abs on his abdomen, his shapely chest that you loved running your hands over. Each dent of where his muscles and joints formed, every single freckle and mole that has one time or another been kissed by you, running all the way from his shoulders to his wrists to match the smattering on his face. 

And god his face, that sharp yet somehow soft jaw that led down to his thick neck, his bulbous nose you not only enjoyed the feeling of pecking but when it tickled your clit as he tongued your hole with your thighs circling his head. Those soft almond eyes who had a tendency to shift between chocolate, gold and deep onyx in the right light, the same eyes that were shamelessly raking down your figure as of this moment. No inkling at your own ogling, you felt the urge to copy Eddie's movements as he shook his head to rid his thoughts. 

“Uh you're… dripping into the sink” he pointed vaguely to the drop of red solution on the white ceramic, “Oh” you mentally shook your head instead and quickly brought both hands up to your face to smear the product into your skin. Behind you Eddie turned and stepped into the shower pulling the curtain closed almost all the way, the sound of cold water hitting the equally cold floor of the tub was your que to hurry the fuck up before your knees buckled. 

The first thought that entered your head when you sat down on your side of the bed was about Eddie from the good lock you'd gotten of him before you left, he was inhabiting every corner of your mind. The shape of his back and the slope of his spine that you would have loved to run your fingers along. The best part? The shape of his ass as he leaned back to soak his face in the stream of water. 

Technically, technically the incentive rule didn’t apply to you. You could… take advantage of the time alone while Eddie was in the shower… but no it wasn't fair, if he had to do it you had to do it, you'd just have to force those dirty thoughts out of your head. But fuck was it hard to refrain from thinking about those broad palms gliding over the skin of your thighs, grasping desperately at your tits, your hips, your ass. Your own hands snaking through his curls, tugging harshly as his lips wrapped around your clit and he did one of his moves that always left you breathless and writhing, sucking harshly at your nub while his tongue worked up and down behind his lips. The feeling of his thighs pressing at your own, one arm on the mattress to prop himself up while the other led his cock to your opening, wrapping around your waist as you slowly felt his big, fat head, dribbling precome pressing at your entrance, and force himself into you. That delicious fucking feeling when the ridge of his head connecting to his shaft caught at the skin surrounding your sopping wet hole, suctioning him in before he bottomed out with an unbelievable loud groan. It didn't matter how many times you’d had sex, he would always sound as if he’d gone 50 years without a taste and finally got one. 

A tingle fluttered through your legs, its nest sitting low in your belly, tickling everything surrounding cunt. You managed to snap out of it just as you hear the pitter patter of water droplets slow to a halt, you took a deep grounding breath, you could do this, you just had to keep your mind on other things. This was a good idea right? Robin hadn't been off her rocker when she suggested it, right? 

No this was right, this was good, it was helping Eddie set routines for himself and it would make your life easier. Cleaning had always come as an automatic response to you, it was therapeutic to sort through random collections of things, to do laundry, wipe down every surface but with the added stress of your less than a year old promotion it had slowly crept up to being too much. Sneaking its way to push you over the edge and have a mental breakdown, probably more serious and destructive than the one a few days ago. Having Eddie helping out was going to be good, it might even help release only a tiny bit of tension in your shoulders through the workday. 

You shouldn't take it for granted, your life had imploded and shattered every single piece of you but you had built yourself back up slowly, gotten your shit together and taken nightly college classes while bussing tables and gotten yourself a degree. A degree that landed you a steady job and an even cushier promotion within less than two years, something not a lot of people could say they had managed. You were eternally grateful and privately very proud of yourself for not letting the world beat down on you and crush you to a pulp like it had so many other people. 

But you were similar to the rest of the public in the same way that work took it out of everyone. You could admit that begin a high ranking boss at the age of 25 was undoubtedly hard but you would never admit that sometimes it was just too fucking hard. There were so many stressful things added to the whirlwind of your mind but maybe not worrying about having to pick up toilet paper on your way home from work at 10 pm or obsessing over how to schedule cleaning the bathroom into your hectic day might make the whirlwind slow, maybe only slightly but it would still be an improvement. 

So no you weren't going to acknowledge those scenarios and feed into them, you were going to let the decision stay firmly planted in place. You could wait, you had gone 19 years without having to qualm those ideas and you sure as hell could go a few weeks, maybe months if you really set your mind to it. But you really, really hoped Eddie would get his shit together in time and not let it go that far. 

To distract yourself you decided changing into a loose threadbare tank top and baggy shorts and then scrolling Tiktok was the best suppressor of those not so innocent ideas. Wrapped up in the robotic voice of a reddit story while glued to the minecraft parkour on the bottom Eddie came into view in the doorframe. Arms stretched above his head he wrung his hair through the orange towel, squeezing out the access water before patting the droplets on his shoulders away. Every single small detail you noticed, when he hung his towel next to yours on the hooks on the back of the door instead of dropping it on the floor, when he tossed his previously worn clothes on the bed and began syphoning through them, picking out everything but his jeans and tossing them into the clothes hamper, folding the pants up and dropping them onto the already folded coveralls on the floor instead of leaving everything in a heap by his bedside table. How he disappeared into the kitchen to collect his pocket trinkets and collected them on the floor next to his work clothes and how he retrieved a fresh change from the closet to join the other clothes on the floor. 

“So what are we watching?” he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your screen “God those videos are always such bullshit” he chuckled as he dropped down onto the mattress, copying your stance and curling in on his side, palms pressed together under his cheek. “Mjeh good entertainment” you shrugged, locking your phone and tossing it on the space of pillow between you. He stretched forward and placed a peck on your lips before pulling back and gazing over your features. 

You never understood his thought process but he always insisted you were beautiful, even with your face in a light shine from the oily products and otherwise bare, with your pimple patches littered across your irritated skin, with your soon to be put in mouth guard. He always adored you, every single part of you, no matter good or bad and you in turn adored him for it as well as simply adored him for him and his own quirks, just as you were doing now. 

A hand reached out and you twisted one of his loose curls around your soft finger, “Always loved your curls” you whispered with a gentle smile, “Yeah? Shame you can only adore them in the mornings before they somehow just frizz during the day” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I told you to use curl cream babe, I even got you one” you lovingly sighed “Yeah well it's too much work if I gotta do it every single day” he frowned as you pulled away from him and dragged yourself out of the bed. He didn't get an answer to your sudden disappearance till he turned around and saw you rushing back with a white and pink tub and a hair brush in your hands. 

“Sit up” you instructed as you pulled his towel down and walked up to stand between his legs as he sat up at the edge of the bed, his hands instinctively went to touch your thighs, remembering last minute and opting to graze the backs of your calves. “You can touch my thighs” you giggled and his hands eagerly found the backs of your thighs as you draped the towel around his shoulders. 

It went unbeknownst to you how adamant Eddie was on keeping his eyes on yours but ultimately failed as his gaze travelled to your boobs, the position he was sat in and the fact that your old t-shirt was sagging with age did not play in his favour like it usually would. Your tits were right in his face as you led the brush through his wet strands, his hold on your thighs tightened immensely, “Is that wholesome?” you tutted while keeping your attention on his hair. He tore his gaze away from you and grinned devilishly “Yup” he popped the ‘p’ while you rolled your eyes. 

Shutting his eyes was a better idea, now this time the position he was in did play in his favour, the feeling of your hands working the gel through his hair soothed him and he relished in the tender moment. Humming with pleasure as you began scrunching his hair to form curls. “You know if you just used a claw clip instead it wouldn't be straightening your hair out and tugging on it like a hair tie does” he frowned slightly disgusted as he opened his eyes to look up a you, “Yeah sorry babe I’m willing to do a lot for you but a girly ass clip in my hair is not one of them” frowning you responded “It's not girly” “Well it's not metal. Name one metalhead or rockstar who wears a claw clip” his eyebrows raised at your silence “Exactly” 

“Whatever” you muttered but there was no trace of unamusement in your tone as you picked the tub up, holding it over his head you began placing it back on again but the sticky residue on your hands forced the lid out of your grasp and behind Eddies back, muttering a ‘shit’ you wiped your hands on Eddies towel covered shoulders before leaning forward and picking it up. 

Mind you it hadn't been intentional, simply a natural reflex but in the process your boobs squished right against Eddie's face as you caught hold of the pink plastic. You thought nothing of it as you screwed the top shut but Eddie did. Oh he definitely did, a deep red blush crept up onto his pale face as his eyes widened in horror. 

Something so simple, so small, literally accidental had Eddie's depraved body reacting in no time, it had only been 6 days since he last got to touch you in any sexual way (3 days of mock celibacy) but blood was rushing down south faster than he could say ‘boobs’. “Alright, I wanna watch Bob’s Burgers now” you announced while placing the product down on your vanity table and hanging his towel back up. He propped himself up against the headboard “Uh yeah ok” his voice was hoarse and strained as he spoke, prompting you to turn in concern while picking up his laptop. “You okay?” 

He cleared his throat and slumped in relief when his voice came out even “Yeah fine” panic rang through his body as he watched you climb up in front of him, intending to settle between his thighs. “What-what are you doing?” he stammered nervously, a confused incredulous frown was passed his way “Sitting down?” before he had a chance to protest you were sat upright between his thighs pressing your pointer finger to the touch ID of his macbook. 

Once you’d opened up a new tab and found the show you leaned back against his chest, he cringed while his whole body tensed “Are you hard?...” he instantly went into defence mode “In my defence, you shoved your tits in my face! Like right in my face” you laughed heartily as the theme song began to play “What these old things?” two hands squishing your tits together with a jiggle had a strained mixture between a whine, a cough and a laugh tumbling from his lips. 

“Okay seriously how are you still hard?” one episode had passed and you were still feeling the press of his hard-on at your back, “Do you even realise how you're sat right now?” 

“No?”

“No? Well let me paint you a mental picture, you're leaned against me, on my dick mind you and giving me the perfect view down your top”

With an eye roll you pulled your tank up “Happy?”

“Not really, I miss them” 

By the end of the night you were giggling at the banter passed between you and snuggled up to him again. 

– 

With each passing day Eddie's problems both became better and so much worse, he was getting used to his new routines and the calendar really was working wonders for him, he knew exactly when and what cars he was supposed to be working on and what meetings he had. It allowed him a better view of his day and even cut a whole useless hour off his work day! Both of you were eternally pleased and happily discussing it over lunch at the mall on the saturday. 

What he didn’t bring up however was that it was becoming increasingly harder to stay away from you, flouncing around in towels or minimal clothing, checking yourself in the full length mirror on the living room side of the bedroom door, twisting and turning to make sure those skin tight pencil skirts were perfect and buttoning up your blouses, swaying your hips to music while leant on the kitchen island working on whatever economy plan on thursday to ensure you could leave early on friday, stood up mind you, ass moving from side to side directly in view of Eddie on the couch. And now! Sat talking to him, excited as ever, purely innocent with those tight fitting jeans and that scooba-neck red top.

Everywhere he looked you were there unconsciously enticing him. He almost lost it when you gave him a spin from the dressing room showcasing each item. The long denim skirt you wanted for work, the so-called ‘casual’ blouse which absence of buttons gave him a show of the press of your tits in your bra, the sheer mesh dress, that other dress that just enhanced every single beloved curve of your body and to top it all off! that stupid skull corset top that made his eyes almost pop out of his sockets when you appeared from behind the curtain. It was all too much!

“So what movie did you book?” you look up from your Taco Bell quesadilla to find him quickly un-tensioning his screwed up expression, “Uh well there wasn't much choice and Nancy kept nagging me how much you would love Barbie so i booked us two tickets for that, starts at 4.30” 

“Nancy said I would like Barbie?” you laugh, “Something about the backstory or meaning behind it I can't remember” he shrugs mindlessly picking at his nachos, “Apparently it's not like, about Barbie? I didn't really understand what she meant she was being super unclear, I think she was drunk” you chuckle and shrug “Alright, but if its a girly love story I am leaving” 

“Yeah and I will be two steps behind you” he laughs. 

As you sit enveloped in the red and black satin and leather interior of Eddies done up van the both of you rant excitedly about the movie, passing back and forth on the advertising, the attention to detail and general direction and idea of the movie. Laughing about how out of place the two of you -especially him- looked in the theatre filled with pink frills and hearts on almost every single patron. 

–

He manages to make it till Tuesday -a shocking 12 days- until he finally snaps. “What is that?” his eyes bulge from his spot on the bed, head propped up on an arm behind his head with his ankles crossed. Lounging in his Korn t-shirt and his regular grey sweats scrolling through Twitter (you and he both refused to call it ‘X’). You turn in the midst of shucking your skirt down your legs, stepping out of it and folding it on the bed you ask “What?” you frown confused as you peel the nylon tights off too. Deep blood red lace with elastic bands crisscrossed everywhere coming into view. “The underwear” he eyes are wide, hand gesturing to your body, phone completely forgotten. 

“Oh, well I had an interview with the vice president of Danaher today” if possible his eyes grow even wider, “I’m sorry?” you roll your eyes at the idea that popped up in his head “I wanted to wear something sexy, ap ap before you start, it was for confidence” you tut and  hold a finger out to him before beginning to unbutton your blouse. “Ah, thanks for the clarification, we would have been having a way worse situation on our hands than last sunday right now otherwise” you roll your eyes again. “Ok but why is wearing sexy underwear for confidence?” confusion shows in his face before he goes white as a ghost at the matching lacy blood red bra underneath your thin under-vest. 

He barely manages to register as you begin to explain “Well surprisingly enough you're not the only one who likes it, makes me feel sexy …” your words go in one ear and out the other as you begin busying yourself with hanging your clothes up, with your back to him his eyes rake over your figure. The soft slope of your shoulders, the shapes of your back, the meat of your hips down to the round fat of your ass, delicate lace nestled between your cheeks, your doughy thighs, down to your smooth calves and  ‘no show’ socked feet. He always used to giggle at how funny the socks looked, like ballerina slippers, not covering anything insisting they were silly when you explained they're so they don't show under your heels, he wasn't saying anything about them now, in fact they weren't even in his line of view. 

Now his throat was closing up, a stone planting heavily in the pit of his stomach and all blood draining from his brain, all rushing south at the view of you in action, body moving gracefully across the fluffy rug on the floor while talking a mile a minute about your meeting. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel guilty for not listening, the cogwheels in his brain stopped turning long before he crudely adjusted himself in his boxers, the electricity in his most vital organ powered out, he was starstruck, the only things working in his body were his eyes which were following you every move and, his dick. Within seconds he was feeling the throb and ache in his groin, desperate to touch you, touch himself, anything to just give him some sort of release. 

Everything set in motion so fast he felt as though he was experiencing motion sickness, the view of you leaning up to grab your towel ripped him violently out of his trace. “Where are you going?” your huffed amused with a soft frown “I just said I was going for a shower”. He scrambled quickly from his lounging on the bed, knocking his phone to the floor in the process but paying no mind to it as he desperately tried to come up with a reason for you to stay. “You look sexy!” he blurted it out and immediately cringed at his own inability to just be smooth. You huffed a laugh again while your expression remained the same “Thanks?” 

“Uh… uh… dinner!” could he stop just blurting things out?? Jesus christ. “Uh dinner, what-what do you want for dinner?” 

“Oh, I was thinking we could either order pizza or see what we have at home, do some rustle up, cuz’ we really gotta stop eating takeout” you laughed and -much to Eddie's pleasure- began stepping back towards him. “Yeah yeah we could order pizza” he nodded vigorously, “Really don’t wanna eat healthy do you?” the laughter had Eddie's desperation rising through the roof, the sound like music to his ears. “Nope” he felt like his skin was on fire as you stood right in front of him. 

“Alright well can you order my usual and I'll hop in the shower” his brain was working a mile a minute to prolong your stay and therefore his reciprocation of your kiss was utterly mindless as you bent down to peck him goodbye. “Or we could watch a movie?” before you had a chance to step away his arms were wrapping your thighs in a hug, almost causing you to buckle into him. “We need to eat babe” 

“No I mean instead of the shower” 

“I need a shower too” 

“No you don’t” your frown prompted his odd behaviour, he stretched up awkwardly on his feet to lift up your arm taking a whiff of your armpit he went “See? Your fine” your arm snapped back to your side as Eddie fell back down onto the bed, “Ok, what is going on?” he searched for words in the puddle of sludge that was currently his brain, clearly in thought as his eyebrows furrow in consideration. “Are you ok?” your frown prompts the sludge to just spew out of his mouth, no thought beforehand just desperate for you “Ok listen I’ve been like really good with the routine and stuff, like it's been almost two weeks and I've kept it up everyday, yeah? So-” 

You cut him off “Technically it's been 10 days” he was quick to interrupt you instead, “Either way I’ve been holding up my end of the bargain and I’ve really really tried to enforce the things you suggested and I-I think I’ve been doing really good! So like I think we should quit with the incentive because its worked and now I know what to do and I’ve improved and also like we haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks and you walking around in those work skirts and short shorts really isn’t helping because like I can’t even jerk off and I’m so fucking horny all the time because you always looks so beautiful and so fucking hot like you don’t even have to do anything and you still make me hard and I can’t do anything about it, like I can’t even let myself think about it because then I’m gonna get like actually, properly, really, really fucking hard and then- then I know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. But like I promised you and I really want you to trust me and that was a part of the deal and its just really important to me that you-” 

“Ok jesus dude, chill, take a breath” you prompt, making a show of a big inhale as he does. “I just-” “SHHHH” you hush desperately and press a finger to his lips to stop him from rambling again. “You’ve really tried?” he nods viciously “And you promise you're going to continue with the calendar, the packing, replacing the bag when you take out the garbage, capping the toothpaste, throwing away receipts, taking your hair out the drain, drying the floor after a shower, all that?” 

“I promise.”

You eye him for a second, scanning for any insincerity in his face but you come up short, “Ok, yes we can have sex again” you smile as his face breaks out in pure excitement, just like a child promised candy “Thank god” he breathes, immediately leaning in and trailing kisses up your stomach “Wait, now?” his expression as he looks up at you is an awkward mix between complete and utter desperation, humiliation and hopeful questioning, begging for you to say yes, “I mean… only if you want to” you pout slightly at him “I gotta’ shower though” his face falls somewhat “You can shower after?” he can't decipher all the emotions coursing through him but he needs you to understand: “I don't want to pressure you, I totally understand if you need time or if you're not in the mood or whatever” 

His hands begin to rub up and down your thighs in wholesome comfort before your face finally shifts “What are you stupid?” before he has time to even open his mouth to respond your towel is dropped to the floor and you're pouncing on him. Knocking him back you straddle his thighs while desperate kisses are exchanged, the first one knocking the wind out of him. 

Arms wrap around his neck, one hand making its way through his relatively organised curls -thanks to the new routine of running curl cream through them-. His hands find purchase on your hips before one snakes its way to grab hungrily at the meat of your ass, moaning into the kiss as you shift against him. He’s quick to roll you over onto your back, your foot making contact with the bedside lamp and knocking it over violently, neither of you even flinch at the sound of breaking glass and neither of you definitely don't make an effort to pay any attention to it. His hips find comfort bracketed between yours, strong hands roam your body in ravenousness, gripping, squeezing, palming at anything he can get his hands on, the side of your ass he can reach between your body and the comforter, your thighs, your hips, your breasts, your shoulders, literally anything. 

Yearning to just get his hands on you, the spread of your thighs allows your panties to bury between your folds making the roll of Eddie's hips cause for a delicious feeling of relief to the impending ache that suddenly appeared. In all seriousness it had been there since the first day away from him, slowly building and residing in the shadows just as a hungry beast, ripping away from its nest to lavish in the face of a delectable treat. Your own specific beast's food of choice; Edward Munson. 

He pulls away from you to rip his shirt over his head, this time not giving a flying fuck about putting it in its correct place and blindly throwing it out of his way, another loud disturbance goes unnoticed by the both of you as it catches onto your jewellery stand and it tumbles to the floor. His hand is back on its rightful place on your hip while the other cups your cheek, the tender touch not in chorus with the feverish kisses laced with desire. To your short lived dismay his lips leave you but within the matter of milliseconds they’re pressing fervent kisses down the side of your neck. Each touch of his lips like hot fire stroking the thirst of the embers embedded within you. 

Desperate whimpers sound through the room when pain strikes some of his kisses, smoothing his tongue over the flecks of deep purple and red threatening to bruise. His hips find a tempestuous pace grinding against yours, his concealed cock forcing angrily at your increasingly wet cunt, his large head, which, you've admittedly thought about a lot, catches on your clit, teasing a whine from your throat at the action. 

Every harsh press of his plump lips against the skin of your chest was addicting to him, the simplicity of just feeling you flush against him was like ambrosia the gods had promised. Each roll of his hips laced with unfiltered and raw desire, not even nearing the desire of appeasing the burning fire nestled between your thighs. His hand coming down to hold onto your other hip gripping you furiously in rhythm with his other, you would no doubt have equally as harsh if not more deep bruising than the work of art on the column of your throat and descending, 10 equally dark marks would be appearing within no time, all for you to remember his desperation for the days to come. 

Panting you manage to prop yourself up on your elbows while Eddie makes his descent down your stomach, thumbs digging into your pudge just as his lips. You breathe heavily through your sentence “As much as I love this baby I wanna do it properly” all he needs to do in response is stand up to encourage you to hoist yourself up to lay your head on the soft pillows. You giggle as he places a hand on the mattress and jumps up, landing to straddle your thighs, not even catching his breath before going back to pressing his lips against yours. 

His next action has you bursting into a fit of giggles, he reluctantly pulls away from you before announcing to the room “Hey Google! Play my playlist Smexy time ooh ooh” he grins down at you, her response of playing the request forgotten with the hunch of his back as he sits back on your thighs -careful to not crush you- and captures your lips once again. 

When your hands move behind your back to unhook your bra he makes quick work of grasping onto your wrists, “Can you keep this on?” he breathes against your lips before you nod. You squeal when he rips the cups down with no caution, letting your tits spill out. If there had been any sort of breeze in the room you wouldn't have even had the chance for your newly exposed flesh to experience it before his hands are on you. 

Between a mess of sloppy, hungry kisses you manage to breathe out “Need to get my hands on you” a smaller set of hands push at his shoulders, as he sits up a heavy pant plays in your ears while you pull at his thighs, he manages to shuffle further up your legs but having no chance to settle before your fingers are dipping into the hem of his sweats and boxers. A breathy laugh prompts his own as his cock bounces up to slap his stomach, catching your chin on the way before falling back down again. The tip of his cock nudging your chin prompting you to pull away slightly. 

Too eager and with too much yearning burning the insides of your body to make a joke or even tease him with your tongue you make quick work to wrap a hand around him, pumping with the pace of your mouth which lips immediately wrap around his tip, one quick suction before swallowing down half his length. The continuous dribble of precum coats your tongue and you hum at the taste of it. The voluminous groan that rips from his chest feeds and tames the fire within you, boosting your ego as it is unrelenting. “Fuck, feels so good” he all but whimpers at the feeling of relief after a steady build of tension in his body form the past two weeks.

You moan around him at his praise but that only spurs on his salacious mix of whines and whimpers, his head falls from the weakness in his neck, all strength currently being sucked out of him, he manages to catch himself with a hand curling around the headboard, his other quickly finding your exposed breast and palming at it with dexterity. “You don't know what you do to me” the absence of oxygen in his voice has the roaring fire in your cunt threatening to burst at even the slightest touch of friction. 

The coating, hot arousal seeps from your hole allowing your folds to glide against each other as you plant one foot firmly on the bed and make work to rub your thighs together. The fabric of your panties bunching around your clit causes whines to vibrate around Eddie's cock, sending shudders through his body as he holds onto the headboard in a deathgrip. Even the hint of friction at your clit isn't enough to relieve you of your searing ache, if anything it spurs it on. The frustration at not being able to soothe the beast has you sucking and squeezing harder at his shaft, the hand rips away from your tit to plant itself against your scalp, the strength with which he holds onto your hair threatens to pull each strand out right at the root. 

It takes everything in him to pull away from you and in turn pull your stubborn ass off him, you whine defiantly at the loss of contact, looking up at him with an angry frown. “Don’t be a brat” he breathes “I cant -fuck- I wont last” you jut your chin out in an annoyed are you kidding me? as his hand pulls away from your hair to push his own away from his face. “I really do not care, we can just go again” your hand is already wrapping around the midriff of his cock, trying not to tug too hard but desperate to get him back into your mouth. “Wait wait!” he calls “Whaaaat?” you whine, hand releasing him and smoothing up and down his thighs “Please baby, just need your cum” your words have his eyes rolling to the back fo his head with a “Fucking christ” 

“Just gotta-” he trails off, replacing your hand with his around the very base of his cock, he arches his back to move his hips closer to you. A self assured, evil laugh bubbles from his chest as he lines his cock up to the bottom of your chin, admiring the view as his tip reaches just past your hairline. You make a show of rolling your eyes at his massive sexual ego, struggling to catch his gaze due to his massive part obscuring your view you voice with exasperation “Are you done?” he hums his approval, the sound giving you the all clear to very eagerly and very quickly wrap your hand around him and bring him back into your mouth. “Geez so impatient- oh FUUUUUCK” he doubles over again when he feels your fingers graze his sack. 

You hold them in your hand consciously making sure to massage more gently than the number you're doing on the rest of him. Lude slurping noises echo throughout the room as you bob back and forth trying to take him as deep as possible while still maintaining your breath. “Shiiiit” the deep whine rings louder than the shlick of spit and precum, and you take it as your que to see really how far you can go before he's pushed over the edge. You slide down slightly on the bed and open your throat up for him, forcing yourself as far towards the dark thatch of curls at his base. He actually screams when he experiences the tight press of the inside of your throat around his head, it seems the bruises you'd be bearing tomorrow wouldn’t only be on the outside. 

You reach for the hand which had previously found purchase on your shoulder, releasing him as you gag loudly, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you pull off him to secure his head in the valve of your mouth, clearing your airways as you guide his hand to the back of your head. “F-fucking-” he heaves “Unreal” you press at his hand to give him the hint before taking a very deep breath and once your being forced to take him deeper again your hand grasps onto his thigh. 

It wasn't something you did a lot but then again neither was the deep deep throating so you slid your hand up to one of the globes of his ass and gave him a firm squeeze. The touch sent his hips bucking away from you on instinct, forcing his cock even deeper down into your throat. Your head hit the headboard, cushioned by his hand and allowed him to force himself so far down your throat that your nose was being tickled by the black curls at his base. God you were so glad you didnt have an upchuck reflex at the moment. “Mother fucker! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M GONNA FUCKING CUM!” you would definitely have laughed if you were able to, the volume of his voice would no doubt be disturbing multiple neighbours. 

The unfortunate thing about this position, at the moment, was that you didn't get to taste or even feel the thick, heavy, hurt spurts of cum that shot down your throat. You sensed he had completely unloaded when his cock twitched and you scrambled to force his hips away from you, he pulled away and out of you equally as fast, if not faster. As you gasped a loud inhale Eddie fell back onto the bed, panting heavily and completely out of it. Your hand clutched at your throat at the pain beginning to settle inside, with an incredibly hoarse voice you managed to heave the words “Need huuuuuuuuhhhhh water”. 

Despite every single limb in his body being completely slack and feeling like noodles and despite the fact that he was still only seeing white he registered the words and fell onto the floor as he rushed to get out of bed. Dick slowly softening he ran out of the room, awkwardly pulling up his pants and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge, water sloshed over the floor as he unscrewed the cap in movement, spilling some over your torso as he handed it to you. Anxiety enveloped him in a bone crushing hug as he watched you chug down the whole bottle of water, already signalling for Eddie to open up the next one before you finished the first one. 

Dread joined the anxiety as you panted heavily before chugging the second one. His whole body relaxed however when you threw the bottle away and gave him a thumbs up while your head rolled forward and then back to splay you across the head of the bed. “Oh thank god” he clutched his heart as he sat down next to you, capturing your hand he rubbed soothing circles into the back of your palm “Are you ok?” 

Without opening your eyes you managed a weak “Why is your dick so fucking big?”

“Jesus Christ” he laughed at your unserious response before sobering up and gently forcing your head to face him, your eyes slowly fluttered open to find his concerned expression “Really though are you ok?” 

“Yes I’m fine” you waved him off before he wrapped both arms around you and scooted further down in the bed, holding you to his chest. “I’ll go run you a bath and call the pizza place, yeah? Or maybe soup would be better” your head pulled away from his chest, you may have taken a toll on your breathing for a while but your breathing was back to normal and besides the sting in your throat you felt perfectly fine. “Excuse me where's my earth shattering orgasm?” he frowned down at you “What?” 

“You're not gonna get that and just walk away without payment” you snarked in faux annoyance, “Are-are you sure?...”

“Equality bitch” he laughed at your smug grin, pushing gently at your shoulder to get you to lie back down, just as he was about to open his mouth you held your hand out to silence him “If you ask me one more time if I’m sure I promise you I will be sleeping at Robins tonight” he laughed and nodded “Understood” before crawling over you to press a kiss to your lips. “Two things” Eddie raised his eyebrows expectantly as he pulled away from you “Take your pants off, I don’t wanna be the only one naked here, and please skip all the foreplay I’m really fucking horny” he laughed again at your directness but obliged. 

While mindlessly getting comfortable in bed and settling against the pillows you indulged in watching the show of Eddie pulling his sweats down, once again those strong legs were all for you to mentally devour. Once he stood back up you lay notice to the twitch of his cock as his eyes raked down your figure, soft and lax on the soft cotton, skin and fat alike in relaxation in front of him, despite the previous strong orgasm his body was once again showing off his affection and arousal, this time in less of a betrayal. 

Hungry eyes found yours as he manoeuvred himself to bend your knees and sit by your feet. The aforementioned black swam in his eyes, darkened with the desire of getting to please his woman. Callused fingers smoothed up your calves to knead your doughy thighs, “Oh wait” you crunched your stomach to elevate your shoulders and unclasp the awkwardly fitted bra, sighing loudly in relief at the loss of fabric digging into your skin, all he did was grin as your breasts spilled out into their natural state and gently pried your legs open. 

His middle finger ran up the soaked lace nestled between your folds, “Hey, dickwad, I said no foreplay” he only laughed but decided to comply, moving onto his stomach he moved your panties to the side, the feeling of his finger running over your slick folds at the action had you humming in pleasure. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs and within no time, sweet fucking relief, finally after what seemed like forever the roaring fire was soothed to a stable flame. His warm tongue ran up your folds causing a shiver to travel throughout your body before he circled the tip over your clit. 

An unnaturally loud whimper rumbled through your throat at the action and soon enough a scrumptious mixture of broad licks, flicks and circles were directed at your clit. Eddie groaned in satisfaction at the taste of you, his grip tightening to pull you closer to his face. Breathless swares and whines were replaced with loud obscenities and near pornographic moans when he finally did what you loved the most, his lips wrapped around the sopping hood of your clit only a moment before a strong tongue flicked up and down on the unexposed skin of your hood. With two years of being head over heels for this man both Eddie and you had mastered the art of not making the sensations of his muscle raw on the bundle of nerves more pleasure than overstimulation, however the action never ceased to send your body in vicious twitches and shakes. 

The flame had been controlled but now it was safely growing in strength and size. Squeezing at every part of your lower belly while steadily increasing. 

Each delicious sound that sounded about the room was muffled when your thighs clasped around Eddie's head, plush skin plastering over his ears, but this way he could feel the sounds echoing in his head through the contact. His lips unwrapped and a sweet kittenlick was rewarded to your clit, his head moved and before you knew it his tongue was tracing the entrance to your hole, once he found his place you felt that same bulbous nose press against your clit, a moan ripped through you and your hips began squirming for friction against him in sync with the strong thrusts of his tongue into you. 

The feeling of such a sensitive nervous system rubbing against the firm skin and natural oils of his nose was like lying down after a non-stop 10 hour speed walk, fully pleasuring your body in more vicious ways than anything else could do.

You were so enraptured by every sensation that you didn't even notice his right hand leave your skin before two fingers forced through your opening. He gave you a second before his tongue found your clit again for a sugary sweet kiss, his eyes found yours as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you. The hand splayed under your breasts found itself in a similar position as the other, grasping onto the sheets, tugging and disrupting the peace of the smooth covers. 

Your second favourite move Eddie did came next, his fingers stilled and began curling inside you in that classic ‘come hither’ motion, his tongue snaked its way to force above his fingers as deep as he could, working furiously to add as much pressure to the slick, spongy wall of your cunt. Massaging the flesh in line with your pussy, he had to fight a wicked grin when his nose came in contact with your clit again and you immediately began grinding against it. 

The hot burning fire was turning blue, angry and full of piping hot rage, raising your body temperature and emitting a light sheen of sweat over your skin. With each press of the pads of his fingers against you, each stroke of his tongue and each drag of your clit against his nose it grew stronger and stronger, no longer resting in the pit of your stomach but spreading to your thighs and chest. With every passing second it grew and grew until its fiery licks were targeting your whole body. Every muscle tensing, fingers and does curling to grip with immense strength, lungs desperately breathing for all consuming air, neck stretching taught with the writhe of your head against the pillows and eyes strained to roll back and find your lost mind at the back of your head. 

Each second, each stroke, each breath, squeeze, curl, strain sent you careening over the edge of the highest peaks of the rocky mountains of Gondor, the fall being stretching to 30 seconds while you writhed, tensed, squeezed and panted. Dizzying metallic rainbows pulsed in waves behind your eyelids before they softened with the landing. Chest rising up and down while pained whimpers of intense overstimulation had Eddie smirking wickedly when he pulled away from you. Nothing in the world could have the strong enough impact to pull you out of your trance from the orgasm, and certainly not the feeling of Eddie slowly pulling your panties down your legs before collapsing down to lay next to you, catching his own breath. 

His hand slithered over your side as he manoeuvred you to snuggle your back to his chest, his grin was ever glowing as he heard your consistent panting, his soft laugh rumbling in his chest and sending vibrations through your body. As you lay there in silence, slowly beginning to catch your breath you soak up the moment, You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce echos softly throughout the room while callused finger travel gently up and down your hip. You can't help the bubbling fire beginning to gather warmth as his touch stretches further, squeezing your thigh before going back up to your hip. 

It grows in heat and quantity as the moment continues, the prickly tones and raspy voice of Cat Pierce making the feeling captivating. Eddie's soft hands enrapture your senses and boast the flames within you, slowly you move in his grasp and turn to face him, deep brown eyes find yours as he looks down at you, his eyes scan your features in utmost adoration. He captures your lips in a passionate yet gentle kiss which has you sighing against him, your fingers rake through his curls as his hand grips your hip to hold you close to him while your lips move rhythmically together, completely in sync the plush pink flesh meets your own in time with your body's movements. 

Hips slowly moving against each other he makes his way on top of you, Love Surrounds You by Ramsey makes the moment all the more desperate, passionate, sexy. Hands roam the surface of each other's skin in desperation, begging to be closer, to feel each other in the way only the two of you could. 

Without ever leaving the caress of your lips Eddies hand slinks between the two of you to wrap around his base as he lifts off of you. In union you sigh loudly as his head pushes past the entrance to your dripping walls. In a well deserved slow pace he thrusts in and out of you, attaching himself to the incredibly intimate moment, in, and out, in, and out, he listens to your shaky breaths and removes his lips from yours, staring down at you as your eyes close in pleasure. 

His arms encase you and hold your torso close to his as his lips begin a trail down the side of your neck and over the expanse of your shoulder, “I” kiss “am” kiss “infatuated” kiss “With you” he sighs against the softness of your skin as you shudder. “Say it again” your whisper only barely reaches his ears but he catches it and pulls away, his eyes find yours again and you watches the gold ambers of chocolate and almond swim in the orbs of his iris, “I’m fucking infatuated with you” the gentle moan is unexpected but welcomed with another deep kiss to your lips. 

As your digits pull at his roots his hips snap against you, his thrusts building harsher and harsher “You don't know what you do to me” heavy pants fill the room as his body works against yours in an altogether delicious movement. “With this fucking body, all for me” he pants before his kisses begin to make their way all over your chest, up and down your neck, over your face, anywhere he can reach. “So beautiful, so sexy, all the time. You are divine” 

“Each breath you take is like a breath of my own, your existence fuels mine” his words ring in your ears like a loud powerful gong, “Something created this prepossessing creature that you are and I don't know what it is but it was definitely not a human responsible. Something wholly, ungodly and out of world crafted your pretty face, carved each curve of your body and wove your intricate personality like fine silk and gifted it onto me and I will spend my lifetime praying to whoever it was that they never take you away from me, because I’m selfish baby, I want you all to myself, I need you all to myself.”

The stretch of his cock and the drag of it along your walls accompanied by such powerful words strengthened with his touch all over your body had your head spinning, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt as though your body was falling into another dimension, backwards, falling, falling. You could see it, the magical flavours of the universe, colours flashing by in a chase, hypnotising you.

Eddie's hips sped up and his hold on you tightened, he didn't even have to ask, he knew. He knew you were on the edge, he could feel your body beginning to vibrate as your breath began to pitch and loud moans drowned the music out. His own breath was heavy and constant, panting heavily before groans took over. 

An explosion ripped through you as hot spurts of cum painted your walls and you screamed.

For nearly an hour you lay there, entwined in the sheets and wrapped up in strong arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other before you drifted off.