#look i love fuck off giant birds okay

[merlyn-bane]

stewjoni wooley birds!! they evolved wool rather than feathers because it is more flame resistant, and the stewjoni people use it to create textiles as modeled by our keeper here. the presence of wool on their necks and faces is dependent on the climate at the time, and they are very big but not very intelligent. they also lay their eggs in ash from volcanic eruptions to incubate them :)

beak is based on a flamingo, since lesser flamingos living in a volcanic environment gave me the idea to do a bird in the first place, because i thought it might be a good shape to be able to dig morsels out of the ash, and also because i thought it looked cool.

yes i know she looks stupid, but i love her, and consider: this is star wars everything looks stupid. she is called a wooley bird because she's a bird and she's wooley and that's about how creative people usually tend to be with these things.

please feel free to use these if you want to, i'd love to see it.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Okay I have a silly/fluffy Were-Harpy thought.

Charlie gets more comfortable with her demon side because of Vaggie's harpy form (after the first couple of wrestling bouts, the Harpy seems to *relax* more when charlie's horns and tail are out. Like knowing that Charlie is her equal makes her feel safe). So instead of Charlie's horns and tail only coming out when she's pissed, if you were to peek into their room, you'd find Charlie, horns out, and tail idly curled around Vaggie's claws. She also likes the feel of Charlie's claws preening her feathers~

(Why yes, Vaggie absolutely enjoys them outside of harpy form once she gets her wings back)

charlie getting more comfy in her demon form bc it calms her monster gf and charlie thinks that's honestly amazing ;_;

Harpy Vaggie when her gf is NOT in demon form: obviously loves Charlie very very much but is a little unsettled and depressed her gf isn't reciprocating harpy Vaggie's displays by showing off her full demon power that Vaggie and tell is there, keeps trying to impress Charlie and getting disappointed when no horns come out as a result, still loves the hugs tho

Harpy Vaggie when Charlie DOES go into demon form around her: Giddy! Delighted!! FLuffing up like a poof ball! PROUD AND SMUG that demon Charlie wants to nest with HER. Snugging Charlie SOOO much and loving her gf's "talons" and how good they are at preening

she will also be utterly fucking embarrassed when Charlie shows her the selfies of this later. Nothing sillier looking than a giant bird monster sprawled flat on it's back in bliss all dopey from gf claw scritches

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 35)

“Uzi! Are you here?” N's voice came wafting down to her, it was a pleasantry really, he could see her on his thermals from a mile away.

“Down here!” She called out to him, hand cupped on the side of her mouth to carry the sound, that too was unneeded but done anyway out of impulse.

“Uzi!” N jumped down from V's nest, voice cracking with how relived her felt to see her, he nearly immediately wrapped her in a hug, before pulling back with a yelp, spines stuck deep in his arm.

“Ow!” He blinked at them before shaking them off and taking a better look at her, eyelights hollowing as he trailed them along her back, the spines poking through her hoodie and down to her tail.

“Uh… yeah. This is a thing now.” Her voice was sarcastic as she showed off the spines, flexing them to stick out and then folding them against her tail and chassis so that they lay flat.

“Woah. Those are new.”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause as N gazed at her, wings still somewhat flared out behind her and tail making wide archs in the air behind her.

“Are you okay?”

“Did I kill anyone?” She asked instead of answering, he could hear the urgency in her voice.

“N-no, you left a trail of blood through the vents, you came straight here as far as I can tell.”

She hugged herself, breaking eye contact with him and sitting on the edge of his next, looking out over the crumbling city and the gas giant illuminating the sky. Her wings folded back into her chassis along with her tail.

“Tera's picking up those sounds from me.”

N sat beside her, legs dangling over the edge, he still wore a worried look over his face, but he didn't yet touch her again (to avoid being spined, most likely.)

“The chirping?” He replied

“Mmhm.” She paused for a moment, before adding almost matter-of-factly “I make them in my sleep.”

“N there's something wrong with me…” She almost whispered, looking down at her hands, was she even a drone anymore? There was so much about her now that was organic.

“No… No Uzi there's-”

“N! You said it yourself, I bled! Like- blood! Robots don't bleed!” She shouted! Not wanting to hear any of his comforts at the moment, especially one so… untrue.

“What the fuck am I?”

There was a pregnant silence, Uzi buried her face in her hands, not knowing what else to do other than sulk.

“I don't know…” He admited, making shapes in the spire floor. “But I don't know what I am either.”

“I uh, actively try not to get too hung up over it.” He gave her a small chuckle, and she giggled back before her face fell again, she groaned as she laid on her back, hands still holding her face as she shoved some hair out of her face.

“I wanted to groom her a couple days ago.” Uzi said abruptly, as if it was something she wanted to get off her chest.

“L-like a cat?” He replied, stammering as if he was slightly amused with a half-smirk to match.

“Yes.”

“I mean… that's not violent though.” He replied, still trying to comfort her.

“No! But… it's weird! Why am I- like this!? Ugh.” She sat back up again quickly, clenching her fists up into the air as she groaned.

“Sometimes I want to preen you.” He admitted after a moment of silence, a blush taking over his face as he refused to meet her eyes for a moment, the blush getting fiercer when he finally did.

“Like… a bird?” She asked back confusedly.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, voice getting slightly more higher pitched as he continued talking about the weird impulse.

“Huh.” She replied after another moment of silence. “So we're both weird then.”

“That shouldn't be a revelation, I'm gonna be a hundred percent honest.” N being sarcastic was something that sounded alien, but it did make her laugh lightly.

“Sarcasm is my thing.”

“You can't own sarcasm.” N laughed back.

“Bite me.”

N turned to her and placed a hand on her leg, making her settle her attention back on him, he had a small smile on his face.

“I think the chirps are cute.”

“I'm making her weird!” She shouted back, a worried look in her eyelights as her hands came under her chin to ball into fists.

“We're her parents! She's going to be weird!” He pointed to himself and then at her rapidly, then gestured to his tail that waggled slightly behind him.

“I just… want her to not be like me. Nobody likes me.” She admitted, causing N to look at her sadly.

“Thad likes you.” N immediately launched into examples to prove her wrong.

“Thad likes everyone.”

“V likes you.”

“As like… a pet, I think.” Uzi looked skeptical, as much as V saved her life, she wasn't sure if she'd completely written off killing her.

“Lizzy-”

“Please don't lie to my face.”

“Yeah, thats fair.”

He moved his thumb underneath her chin, making her look at him.

“I like you.” He leaned in as he said it, a small smile on his face that told her exactly what he was thinking. She blushed, but was unable to look away, so she sighed.

“You got me there.” She finally caved, soving him away lightly before resting her head on her hand.

“And I think my awesome girlfriend is awesome.”

“You just said awesome twice.” She lifted an eyebrow in amusement, a smirk that was barely hidden on her face.

“That's how awesome you are!” He punched the air with both of his fists, his legs kicking as he did, she rolled her eyes but found herself laughing anyway, she leaned into him, sighing deeply.

“I love you, N.” The words came put suddenly, without her thinking about them.

He blinked, once, twice, then he felt his core melt into a squishy mess. He knew she did, but hearing someone say it, hearing her say it, was something so special to him.

“I love you too, more than anything.”

She was blushing heavily, but smiling all the same, she closed her eyes, wanting to spend just another moment with him.

“Where's Tera?” She asked, knowing N wouldn't ever leave her at home alone.

“V has her.”

“She agreed to babysit?” She turned to him, eyes suddenly open in surprise.

“Weirdly, yes. Probably should head back soon though, Tera was already upset after you dissappeared.”

“Shit. Sorry, I passed out and- mm!”

He was kissing her suddenly and without much warning, holding her shoulders to keep her steady, her eyelights shut and she reached out to pull him in closer, slotting their lips together.

He pulled back again, resting his visor on hers.

“Whats your deal with kissing me while I'm talking?” Uzi asked, blinking rapidly as she recovered her rapidly beating heart.

“You stress too much.” He said simply.

“I wish you'd kiss me more.” She replied before snapping a hand over her mouth, and backing away quickly, eyelights blown wide as she stared at him.

“T-that was supposed to be internal! Ignore that!”

But N did not ignore it, in fact, he took it to heart, immediately. Despite the fact that he was blushing just as ferociously as she was.

“Can you put your spines away?”

Uzi blinked before she began to try to will them away much like her wings and tail, they flattened further into her, until they were smooth, and then seemed to tuck themselves away in her chassis, as they disappeared.

The second they were gone, N pulled her into his lap, holding her cheek as he reconnected their lips. His other hand resting on the small of her back as he took the lead.

He wasn't sure what he was doing, but Uzi had done this to him before… so.

He ran his tongue over her lip and he felt her shiver before she seemed to melt into him, a hand pulling him by the fur of his coat and the other on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. Her tail made itself known again, wrapping in N's in some vain attempt to force them closer.

He was less sure what to do when Uzi opened her mouth a little more, deepening what was already the most passionate kiss of his life. He pushed her down until she was leaning on the spire wall and he was postitoned between her legs. Pulling the hand that was on his shoulder away until he had it pinned above her head, interlocking their fingers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat in the process although he made no indication that he'd noticed, nor cared. The hand that had been pulling the fur on his coat began to unbutton it from the top, exposing his core to the open air.

His breath hitched, but he didn't stop her, he nibbled her lip, and even through the kiss he could hear her shuddering gasp in response, he immediately decided that was his favorite noise any drone had ever made.

His thoughts all stopped when he felt her fingers inch closer to the glass covering of his core, hesitant but clearly wanting.

A flash of J's sneering face, her claw resting on that same covering, tears running down the inside of his visor-

He pulled back, eyes still closed as he pushed those memories down, he didn't need to think about them, he didn't want to think about them.

Especially not while making out with his girlfriend.

Both drones were reduced to harsh pants, as he broke the kiss, Uzi's eyelights replaced with two violet hearts and a blush that was so bright it almost hurt his eyes to look at. Her tail still tangled in his but still trying to wag.

“L-like that?” His voice came out in a husky pant, sounding far more breathless than he had ever imagined it could be.

Uzi didn't respond, text came up on her screen.

[Emotional Overload, Please Stand By]

He chuckled, taking one of her hands and holding it until her eyelights came back to stare at him. Her eyes flicked to the hand he was holding, then back up to his visor.

A high pitched whine escaped her as she yanked her hand out of his and used it to cover her intensely blushing face, her knees coming up in front of her as she shoved herself further in the wall.

“Thats not what I meant!”

Next ->

[urfavlarry]

HEYYY HRUUUUU AGAIN!!! It's me k4nma_shi, I had to deactivate my old account bc it wasn't working properly. BUT IM HERE AGAIN!!!

May I have a Logan x fem reader request ? if you don't mind. And can it be where Logan and you met up after being in the phych ward in the phantom dimension?

My baby deserves attention 🫶

THANK U MOOKA, HAVE A GREAT DAYYYYY ❤

Reunited

Logan Fields x reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar

A/N: HEY GIRLL WELCOME BACKKK

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🌟 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You walked through the halls of the weird building. It reminded you of a maze, everything looking the same and you feel like you saw the same door like 50 times already! You were trying to find the other, opening every door you could, most of them being empty. You grip your flashlight, your whole body tense and alert. You knew there was a small chance that there were phantoms inside the building, but you couldn’t shake off the paranoia from when the giant centipede looking monster chased you inside the school. You hear footsteps from somewhere in front of you, but not just one pair, but two. You hide behind a corner, grabbing your pocket knife and try to be as quiet as possible. You hear the footsteps getting closer when you feel them walking right next to you. You jump the person but immadietly stop when you see a surprised Ashlyn and a ready to attack Taylor in front of you. “Jesus.. You guys scared me.” Taylor looks at you with a “really?” face like you didn’t just jump them but shrugs it off. You help Ashlyn up, taking her hand and pull her up.

You hug the both of them, practically squeezing them into mush. You smile at them and ask about the plan. Ashlyn shrugs, explaining that you should find the others first before coming up with a plan. You nod and follow them, keeping an eye on the back so nothing sneaks up on you three. You go to what feels like the 100th floor of this labyrinth and open the first door you see, a very, very trashed room behind it. It looked like the room you stayed in, so you grab your pocket knife just in case anything jumps you.

“Hello?.. Aiden? .. Logan? ..Guys??” You hear rustling in the bathroom and out comes a.. face painted Aiden?? You burst out laughing along with Tayloe, Ashlyn just having a “what the fuck” expression on her face. “Okay.. Aiden what the hell?” She says and Aiden just smiles proudly; “What? I was bored! I have all the board games and face paint I could ever have!” He says and Ashlyn face palms; “So in stead of asking for some useful things that could help us ESCAPE, you asked for.. games? Okay if we need bait, Aidens it.” Ashlyn says and leaves the room, going to search for others. You stop laughing and smile at Aiden. “Hey are you coming with us? Or is your head injury still bothering you?” You ask and he shrugs; “I’ll come with.” He gets up energetically and dashes out of the room towards the direction Ashlyn went. “Wow that boy really needs to leave some energy for the poor.” Taylor jokes and you chuckle, following the two love birds.

You finally gather almost everyone, except Logan. You start to panic a bit. What if something happened to him? You shake off the thoughts, trying to think positively. “Logans brave.. He can take care of himself, no need to panic.” You think to yourself and open a door, and see that it’s the one where all of you stayed in. You enter it, the others staying in front of the room, looking out for phantoms. Well there weren’t any phantoms in the building but that’s paranoia for ya.

You finally see the oh so familiar pair of blue eyes you so so love. You smile, running towards him and he pulls you into an embrace, spinning you around. “Hey bunny, you’re okay..” He whispers and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smile, rubbing his back. You pull away and he holds your hand, intertwining your fingers. Everyone leaves the room, you and Logan walking hand in hand, looking out for each other. You finally gather everyone in Tylers room, deciding to get some rest and not search for anything today. You huddle up in a corner, pulling your knees to your chest. Logan sits down next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, making you rest your head on his shoulder. He whispers sweet nothings in to your ear, your stomach erupting with butterflies. “Logan?” You look up and he look at you with a smile, “Hm?” He hums and you smile at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.. I couldn’t imagine loosing you..” You start; “Don’t let those assholes force you into anything and if anything does happen, just know we won’t be mad and we will be here for you.” You say and he nods, sighing. “I’ll be alright, just take care of yourself yeah?” He kisses your forehead and rests his head against yours. You relax your shoulders and listen to him as he starts to talk to you about astrology. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm even during such a horrific and terrifying situation. You look at him, seeing his smile while talking about something he is truly fascinated by. Only one thing came to mind as you saw the boy in front of you. What a beautiful boy.

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🌟 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[cakerybakery]

This was supposed to be a quick thing. But it's spiralling and I want to see where it goes so I'll just post to the original ending because the farther it goes the more it's obvious I need to expand on the idea.

-

“Okay, I’m just really having trouble wrapping my head around this. Dad, tell me again. What happened?” Charlie paced back and forth in front of the parlour couch. Glancing nervously at the grown men on the couch.

Lucifer kept shooting Adam looks like this was somehow his fault.

There might be a giant list consisting of every sin Adam ever committed, but this time he was innocent.

“I was out on the terrace having my morning coffee when he showed up.”

“Adam right? Not the bird?” She emphasized bird as though she doubted it was in fact a bird at all.

“Yeah. So I tell him, “good morning” trying to be polite. Not that he ever appreciates it. And he says, “Fuck off.” But I keep my tempter in check.”

Adam snorted from his half lying down position on his part of the couch, “you almost fucking decked me.” Pushing Lucifer’s buttons had become Adam’s favourite game since figuring out Charlie accidentally had her dad on a short leash. Any sign that she would be upset with him meant he folded like a house of cards in a hurricane.

“ALMOST being the important part there. HA HA!” Lucifer’s fake laugh to try and steam roll past what Adam said always held a special place in Adam’s heart. It let him know he was successfully getting away with being an ass.

“And that’s when the, uhh bird, showed up?”

“Yes. The giant, terrifying, bird showed up then. Handed over a clipboard in its beak. Made us both sign and left, that, behind.”

Adam just plain didn’t like the tone Lucifer used. “She isn’t a that. She’s a baby.”

“Now, that’s the part I’m having trouble with. I thought that was a myth. Or a story parents tell their children to explain where babies come from. Storks bringing babies. Insane. And I would one hundred percent think you two were lying except I can’t figure out why you would or where you got a freaking baby from. Especially one that is clearly half dad’s!” She was hyperventilating a little and Lucifer went to stroke her back to try and help her calm down.

“I hope you’re got my chill side instead of your dad’s- your other dad’s… excitability.” Adam stage whispered to the little cutie lying on his chest.

-

Adam is pretty happy, he loves babies! It's in his DNA. But he should have read the paperwork before he signed it, cause now he's acting odd. Lucifer is not happy, he tried to read the paperwork but the stork kept hitting him with the clipboard, he'll realize once he reads it why Adam's behaviour is about to be much more erratic instead of annoying. Charlie is just confused by the whole thing.

[mynameisjag]

The air was nice, a little crisp with the fall weather about to hit.

Usually Wade wouldn’t find himself enjoying the outdoors in a leisurely manner…and he wasn't, he fucking hated it at the moment.

“This sucks!”

Beside him, walking the path at slow pace was Laura, who just raised an eyebrow at him, copycat version of her dad's smirk on her face.

“You've walked longer through rougher terrain,” her eyes flicked to the two bodies ahead of them, her smirk growing into a wide grin, “wonder what you're really upset about.”

“Oh, you know, my secret hatred of birds is showing through-of course its not the walk and don’t you start.”

He wasn’t used to being out and about without his suit, and the giant sun hat he was sporting didn’t really help keep the sun off his more sensitive skin.

But he was doing this for Vanessa.

Vanessa’s boyfriend was…descent…and she wanted them all to get along, they all were close in one way or another and of course she would want the ones she cared about the most to be comfortable with one another.

So…bonding hike…

Which Logan, the feral fuck, actually seemed to be enjoying but that probably was less the family time and more that he was away from large groups of people.

There was a bet if the man was just going to go and take off at the first sight of a deer, which might work out in Wade’s favor if it scared ‘boyfriend’ off.

Listen, he is willing to give the guy a chance, he is a nice guy…but did he really have to click with Logan so fast?

“Pops doesn’t really care that much for him, you know that right? The guy is important to Vanessa, Vanessa is important to you and you are important to him.”

“Fucking, yeah, I know little Miss Voice of Reason, but look at them, walking and talking like friends.”

“The dude is talking, Pops is probably thinking about disappearing into the woods for a week before you hunt him down and bring him home.”

“Like it would take a week for me to find him, we’re connected Baby-wolvs,” he made a heart sign with both of his hands, “the power of saving the universe and Madonna will forever bond us.”

She just rolled her eyes, “Since your so connected, then why are you so jealous?”

“Jealous!? Me!?,” his hands fell dramatically to his sides as he threw his head back in distress, “Okay, I admit it, I’m jealous of the way those jeans make his ass-“

“-Do NOT finish that.”

“I’m still going to think it…hmm…thinking about it hard now.”, he preceded to make grabby hands at the other man’s backside, “going to make the mouse send me a cease and desist with the way my thoughts be going.”

“I hate you.”

Wade just grinned wide at her snarly face, sooo cute, just like her daddy! Speaking of the man, the two ahead of them had stopped and were waiting.

They weren’t too far behind, so it only took a few moments to catch up, Deadpool throwing his arms around the older man and going to swoon knowing he was going to be caught, “Oh, the sun, it makes me suffer, if only there was a strong burly man to slather me with lotion later!”

Laura sauntered up, pushing Wade off her father to cuddle his side, “Thanks for waiting.”

‘Boyfriend’ was helping the mercenary up, smiling and going on about nearly being close to the end of the trail.

Logan huffed and gave a quick side hug to his little girl, “Probably need to get there quick, I can smell rainfall heading our way.”

And then ‘Boyfriend’ was talking about how the weather was reported to be nothing but sunshine and Wade was rolling his eyes and adjusting his hat. He did not pack for rain and if Logan said rain was coming it was coming.

“There’s this lovely little picnic area ahead, we should bring a lunch with us next time! Say, do you any of you like sports, got a few work buddies that we watch the games with. We’d love to have the whole crew over. I can make a mean green bean casserole!”

Their phones went off, flash storms heading their way.

“Oh, thank the Marvel Jesus that is me, welp, looks like it’s time to head back!”, he was going to ignore the way the Wolverine duo were smirking at him as he enthusiastically turned around and started head back to the truck.

“Sorry, are trip is a bit of a bust, perhaps next time weather will be more predictable and Vanny can join us!”

“Sounds nice.”

“Sure.”

“I think jumping into a concrete mixer sounds better.”

And ‘the boyfriend’ was throwing an arm around Wade’s shoulders, “You really are such a funny guy, it’s so good to be able to bond like this!”

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):

7ft tall silver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.

7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart

Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.

7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.

Okay so aside from all of the above (giant with a matching giant flaming sword, killed god, extreme dumbass), here's some more propaganda for Gable the Godkiller.

They've escaped death multiple times with their partner in... crime? Like literally they were about to be executed in the most brutal way possible and just. Escaped and killed all their captors in the snowy wastelands.

They are the helmsperson of the Uhuru and take this job very seriously and definitely haven't left it to Bowser (you know, like from Mario) multiple times. Can steer that flying ship in horrible weather and still make it to port safely.

Healed an entire fucking hospital by cutting their hair for someone they had the hots for who was also in the hospital. Imagine being on that level of myth making in some random port city because of a hair cut.

Giant bird caretaker and also took the giant birds out on their friend's bachelor party (this was like. his Xth polyamorous marriage at this point btw) and had a fucking blast getting high on some rope and fucking around. They've also flown these birds into combat and looked cool as hell doing it (see: killing their friend's shithead of an older brother in a joust).

Had a relationship with Lucifer the Morning Star before they fell as an angel and killed God. Literally the reason the stars fell was their love for each other. The world would not look the same without Gable and they are, at the very least indirectly responsible for the creation of the Church of the Slain God and everything it represents (fantasy Catholicism).

And also yeah they are regularly tripping over themself and saying very silly things. 10/10 character we love Liz Anderson and Gable in this house

I am seeing people say that this Nicky fellow is basically trans! That's very cool! Gable is actually trans. Pronouns they/them/any presentation whatever they feel like.

Gable held a bachelor party for a BFF where the attendees hunted from their sky birds, wore dresses, and still managed to keep their eyeliner on point!

Gable killed God because he wouldn't let them be queer. They should rightfully crush anyone in their path.

We are finally going up against a character I know. I can confidently say all sexy moments with Gable are much sexier than TAZ's largely off-screen romances. Mod Note: This was written during the poll versus Killian Fangbattle.

Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)

Transmasc bisexual (or at least so widely accepted as such it's basically canon) dilf half-demon let's start with the basics

And by half-demon I mean the literal prince of Hell

But also simultaneously is Saint Nicolas get you a man who can do both specifically this man

Missing an arm cause his ex-friends tragically betrayed him and shot it off but he doesn't need two arms to show you a good time wink wink ;)

The betrayal in question forced him to be seperated from his also hot milf voice actress wife and their son which is sad but in like a way that makes him sexier

Uses his one hand to wield a flaming katana that he used to rescue his son from the FBI

Protects his family with his life very literally which is hot as hell

Big himbo energy couldn't come up with a good plan if he used 100% of his brain

When he does fail at things it's pretty cute honestly

Definitely played a variety of musical instruments before the whole arm thing happened! Maybe he still does idk he's a sexy mystery

2 in 1 deal! This man was born from the merging of two timelines! Kinda sick!!! Also two dads = twice the daddy issues

You'd think the whole being forcibly split from his family thing would mean he isn't very close with his son but nope! His son adores him! They get along great!!!

His mom is simultaneously alive and dead

His mom bagged fucking two different dudes (one of whom FOUND HER DEAD in a different timeline, both of which are demons)

HIS MOMS NAME IS MORGAN FREEMAN, HIS DAD’S NAME IS GLENN CLOSE, AND HIS OTHER DAD’S NAME IS JODIE FOSTER, AND HIS GREAT SOMETHING GRANDFATHER’S NAME IS MERYL STREEP

HIS SONS NAME IS TAYLOR SWIFT

Lifelong pot smoker 👍 (plus drug flower user!!)

CANONICALLY BOTH A POLO WEARER (and yes, has all the stereotypes of that attached with it — a nerd, which is hot) AND A LEATHER JACKET WEARER (which also has all the stereotypes attached with it — a rebel dude person, which is also hot) [<- all widely accepted as canon by the fandom even as he’s older]

A part of the SECOND BIGGEST ship of season two, (Nark) despite the two characters only having one-two canon interactions (one of which JUST happened last episode)

Man’s a himbo what’s hotter than that

So many fucking names. You try to tag him in anything and he takes up half the space. That’s probably hot. For someone out there

This was already mentioned but so very very trans. Like. It’s basically canon

Rock and roll(er)

Joined a group of thieves called the watermice when he was like 13

for a few minutes had a guitar called the Battle Axe of Hatred

definitely had an frienimies with benefits relationship with his childhood friend Lark (sorry ppl that don’t ship nark lol) (it’s canon after ep 44 hah)

I feel like the audio of the entire Nick-breaking-into-the-FBI scene should be propaganda, but I'm copying select bits from the transcript:

Anthony: Yeah, it kind of echoes up through the vent, like the beginning of Metal Gear Solid. You hear a voice that strikes you as ever so slightly familiar, Taylor. Saying—  ??: [a deep voice] [echoing in the vent] Where is he?  Anthony: You hear—  Will: Uh-oh, he’s hot.  Anthony: —a bunch of shouting voices.  [giggles]  Beth: Uh-oh! Anthony: You hear a bunch of shouting voices and people shouting for him to get down on the ground to turn off his flame. To fucking get his hands behind his back. You hear this rhythmic stepping forward— because his footsteps don't sound like anybody else's because it's almost like… y’know when you toss a little bit of water onto a really hot pan and it just sizzles like that? It's like every footstep he's taking, you can hear that— Freddie: Cool  Anthony: — and you can feel some of that heat coming up in this vent, even though you can't see him at this point. And he goes—  ??: [echoing] Where. Is. My. Boy? Anthony: You hear the FBI agent—the FBI in quotation marks agent—in the back going like—  Agent: [echoing] He's safe for now. If you want to go ahead and make sure that he stays that way, you feel free to go ahead and step inside the suite that we've prepared for you, my boy. Anthony: And you hear the hot guy voice saying—  [chuckles]  The Hot Guy: [echoing] I don't think that's going to happen.

...

[a powerful rush of air builds] Anthony: You hear—  [gunfire, and the air rush culminates in a burst of flame; from underneath the fire, metal music starts playing] Anthony: —plumes of flame exploding.  [a person’s pained shout, gunfire and bursts of flame continue]  Anthony: You can feel the heat radiating through this metal vent and it's actually beginning to hurt and burn your hands.

...

Anthony: And you hear blood—  [sizzling]  Anthony: —hitting the fucking ground and you hear sizzling and things boiling and burning. Taylor: That could just be coffee! That could just be coffee. Link, let's go. Anthony: And you are getting closer and closer to the elevator. And you hear that same hot voice say—  The Hot Guy: [echoing] Where the hell is Taylor?

Gable and Nicky Together:

We are on a joint ticket now! This is a truly unbeatable combo. Not even god can nerf it because Gable killed him. Vote for us. Nicky Close will watch your stuff and play with your cats while Gable gives you the night of your life.

Gable and Nicky can literally be yuor angle or ur bevil.

Kravitz (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Grim Reaper. So hot he managed to date Taako from TV

gotta be krav

Art of Gable and Nicky from @slightlyhopefulromantic.

[tuberchelsea]

Come Out to LA

Pairing: Yoongi x f!reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple trip to LA to visit your childhood friend turns into a weekend of a life time

Genre: idol au, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers

CW: sexual content (grinding (we in da club), oral, fingering, exhibitionism (if you squint), dom!Yoongi, sub!reader, p in v), unwarranted Kiss Cam, Yoongi is just too fuckin cute. Also, we may have some sad girl times.

A/N: I have not been in the basketball circle for a while, so my knowledge is meh (also am not a Lakers fan). Also, for somebody (me) having a JK bias, Yoongi’s been on the (my) mind lately 🥴

Title inspiration: Come Out to LA - Don Broco

“Question - how would you feel about seeing a Lakers game while you’re here?” Your friend, Becca asks over the phone.

“I mean I’m not the biggest lakers fan, but it’s been a while since I’ve watched a game - I’m down!” Why not? You’d never been to Los Angeles, so it’d be a good idea to do as much as you can in the 4 days you’re there.

“Awesome! The game is tomorrow evening! Did you want to borrow a jersey? I have plenty hanging around!” Becca asked, knowing full well what your response was going to be.

“…I’ll just wear something nice.” There’s no was you’d be caught dead wearing a Lakers jersey.

“Okay! I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then!! Love you!!” As Becca hangs up the phone, you glance over at your half packed suitcase and the pile of rejected outfits sighing - packing shouldn’t be this hard. Looking over at your closet, you eye the new lavender pantsuit you’d bought months ago - might be time to put it to good use.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“Why do I keep punishing myself with bum-fuck early flights?” You curse to yourself as you off board your last connecting flight to LAX. You needed to find Becca - thankfully she was waiting by baggage claim.

“Girl, you look like you need caffeine.” Becca stated as she gave you a giant hug. You nodded in agreement - 4 am flights aren’t exactly your jam. Grabbing your bag off the carousel, you follow her out to the car. Not even buckled in, Becca started rambling off the schedule for the day - something that didn’t surprise you.

“So, I’m thinking we drop stuff off at the house, you can change, then we do brunch? Get coffee and eat - kill two birds with one stone.” You nodded, sending the necessary texts to your family.

“What else do we have today? Better question, when is the basketball game?” You inquired - she hadn’t really disclosed that to you.

“Oh! That’s tonight! We need to be there at least an hour before tip off, it’ll be a bit easier to get to the seats courtside, plus I-“

“Did you say courtside?” You interrupted her, looking up from your phone. She nodded, smiling mischievously. “How did you land courtside? HOW MUCH DO I OWE YOU??” You KNOW you couldn’t afford the ticket at this point, even if you didn’t go shopping.

She shakes her head and laughs, “you don’t owe me anything, hun! Besides, I got them for free bec-“

“Did you win a contest??” You interrupted again.

“No, I got them fr-“

“Oh! Gifted from work?” You interrupted once more. Becca then glared at you, reaching for her flip flop.

“Well! I! Could! Tell! You! If! You’d! Stop! Interrupting! Me!” She yelled, striking you on the thigh with each word. “Now hush!” She tossed her flip flop at you. Your eyes the size of dinner plates, you nodded obediently, rubbing your thigh to help with the sting. “Oh I didn’t hit you that hard. AS I WAS SAYING, I got the tickets because I’m dating one of the guards on the Lakers. We haven’t gone public with our relationship, so I can still enjoy sitting courtside without media in my face. I was able to get him to get another ticket tonight so I could take you to see a game - they’re actually pretty fun!” You nodded, processing the new information.

“Wow - you moving out here last year really changed you for the better.” You sigh, looking down at your hands.

She reaches over and places a hand on yours, sensing your change in mood, “how are you handling all of that, by the way?” You go silent for a moment, thinking over the events from the past year.

“I was able to have closure - his family is still on my side with everything. Nobody’s really heard from him since his family and I found out why he left me for her.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “But I’m hoping it’ll be easier for them and myself once I move away.” You look back down, fidgeting with your phone again.

“Where are you planning on moving to?”

“I’m hoping here - I’m gonna check out UCLA’s Marine Bio Grad program tomorrow. It was one highly recommended by my professors.”

“Well if everything works out, I could talk to the landlord of my apartment complex. He’s actually a pretty decent guy. Plus you’d be in a pretty decent location.” Becca shrugs, turning into the complex.

“And I’d be close to you?” giving her the side eye and a smirk.

“I mean I think that’s the best perk if anything! Now come on, grab your stuff and let’s get you changed so we can start the day! Race you to my place!” She says, already running for the door.

“Becca hold on, I need my ba - I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO GO!” Groaning, you grab your bags, trying not to trip over yourself as you follow suit.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“I still can’t believe you wore a pantsuit, hun. I still think you should’ve worn a jersey.” Becca shakes her head as you both enter the Staples Center.

“Well, I think it’s appropriate - it’s a tint of purple AND I wanted to look nice since we’re gonna be court side. Plus lots of people will see us, even if we’re not sitting with the celebs.” You shrug, placing the blazer to drape off your shoulders.

“Hun, you do understand that court side isn’t like the VIP lounges, right?” Becca quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Meaning?” You send her a confused look.

“Meaning we will be sitting with famous people. Like there’s only one ‘court side’, hun.”

“Well now I just hope there’s not any cute celebs.” You scoff, following Becca to the seats. She grabs her seat, pointing to her left to direct you to yours. As you take your seat, you hear a conversation to your left - one that’s not in English. Your curiosity wins and you (assumingely) nonchalantly turn to see where it was coming from. Almost immediately, you make direct eye contact with the person that’ll be sitting next to you for the night -

Suga.

He gives you a small wave and smile before sitting down, you do the same to him. Once sat, you turn to Becca with a bemused look on your face, earning a small shrug from her.

“Becca, I feel I don’t deserve to sit here!!” You whisper yell through a toothy grin, earning a laugh from her.

“You’re fiiiiiiine, hun. Just enjoy the moment! Now, do you want anything to drink?”

“…Red Bull please. Flavored is preferred, but no coconut.”

“Got it!” Becca saunters off to the drink stand, leaving you alone. Already feeling warm from the arena (the anxiety wasn’t helping), you decide to slip off your blazer. You stand to drape it over the back of your seat, leaving you in a sleeveless mock turtle neck.

Suddenly, you hear a small voice from your right - one you wouldn’t have heard if they weren’t right next to you. “I’m assuming you’re a fan of The Ocean?” You look up to see Suga pointing to your right arm, sporting a sea-themed sleeve.

“Well I hope I do, seeing as I’m a Marine Biologist.” Sitting down, you instantly regret what came out of your mouth - hoping the sarcasm wouldn’t be too lost in translation.

He laughed, surprising you that he didn’t think the line was cringy. “Marine Biologist? Do you study ocean animals then?”

“Not right now - kinda hard when you live in the mid western part of the United States. Currently I’m working with more lake, river and pond life. I’m hoping to switch to more oceanic when I finish my Master’s though.”

“So you’re not from LA?” Apparently he’d caught something in your ramblings.

Shaking your head, you answer “nope, I’m visiting my friend, Becca” you pointed to her still empty seat. “I currently live in Montana.”

“Ahh okay!” He nods, “I’ve never been there, but I want to someday. I hear it’s really pretty. Also! I didn’t catch your name!” Suga gives an apologetic look as you mentally slap yourself for not introducing yourself.

“I’m y/n! I didn’t mean to come across as rude, Sug-“

“Yoongi” he interrupts. You look at him with a confused look, your brain short circuiting. “You can call me Yoongi. Also, you weren’t being rude, I was the one that caught you off guard.” He gives you a soft smile, holding out his hand to shake yours. He then introduces his manager that’s sitting off to his left. As you two finish introductions, you feel something cool press against your cheek. Grabbing the can from Becca, you thank her before you take a drink.

“Oooh! They had my favorite flavor.” Tonight may just be okay.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“How did the refs miss an obvious travel?? Like he went almost half way across the court.” It’s coming close to the end of the 2nd quarter (not period, as you were immediately corrected by both Yoongi and Becca. “Don’t mind her, she’s more of a hockey fan.” Becca leans across you to apologize, getting a smile out of him), and while you are enjoying the game, you’re also enjoying the company around you. When the three of you aren’t yelling at the refs for missing blatant calls, you would carry conversations amongst the three of you (as well as you could in a loud arena); small talk quickly turning into more personal topics. Soon, the buzzer went off; indicating the end of the quarter.

“I’m going to head to the locker room to go see my man, then grab drinks on the way back - you want another Red Bull?” Becca asks you as she’s standing up. You nod, then she heads off. At the same time, you see Yoongi’s manager leave, leaving Yoongi and yourself alone. You feel the anxiety come back to you - while you were comfortable being around Yoongi, not having Becca there to back you up was slightly intimidating. As soon as you zone out though, you’re quickly brought back by a small touch on your forearm. You look to your left to see the hand belonging to Yoongi, who was wearing a slightly concerned look. “Are you okay, y/n?”

You blink a couple times before you nod, “yes! Sorry, I tend to zone out when my anxiety gets to be a bit much.” You then let out a breath you didn’t even think you were holding.

“Is the crowd becoming a bit much for you?” He asks, hand still on your arm. You nod. He sighs, “I’m glad I’m not the only one overwhelmed.”

It’s your turn to wear the concerned look, “I’m guessing this isn’t the same as performing, is it?”

He shakes his head, “there’s a reason I’m more of a background person” he laughs nervously.

“We suffer together then?” You suggest, hating yourself again for the cringy comment. He smiles, making you feel a bit better. The announcer then comes over the arena speakers, announcing the arrival of the Laker Dancers. You both shift your attention to the dancers on the court as Mic Drop begins to play over the speakers. You see a shift in Yoongi’s demeanor, becoming more stoic, bobbing his head to the beat. When the camera spans over to him, he gives a tight smile and a wave. Once the dancers left the court, Yoongi turns back to you, going back to being relaxed. The two of you trade more conversation while waiting for the second half to start, not even noticing when Becca and his manager return to their seats.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The game is closing in on the end of the 3rd quarter. At this point, you and Yoongi aren’t paying a lot of attention to what’s going on on the court - too engrossed in your conversation. You two were so engrossed in conversation that you didn’t even notice the play stop, what was said over the speakers or Becca calling for you.

“Y/N LOOK UP!! AT THE JUMBOTRON!!” You direct your attention to the screen above you - to see yourself.

And Yoongi.

Featured on the Kiss Cam.

He must have caught it too; because if looks could kill, most of Staples Center would be gone. Instead of getting the hint that you two weren’t happy about this, the Cam stayed focused on you two for a lot longer than necessary. Becca then reached over and grabbed your face, just to plant a big kiss on your cheek. The Cam moves on, giving some much needed relief to both you and Yoongi. Once the awkwardness of the moment had passed over, both of you turned to face each other.

“I’m so sorry!!” You both blurted out at the same time.

Yoongi throws you a confused look, “why are you sorry?”

“I feel me sitting here conversing with you in The Public Eye may look questionable to those around us - I don’t want to ruin anything for you.” You quietly confessed, looking down at your hands.

Yoongi smirks, shaking his head, “if I was so worried about that, I wouldn’t have said a word to you in the first place! Besides, I was the one that started our conversation. If anything, I’m sorry you had to be put on the spot like that. I wasn’t even aware they were gonna feature me on that - not that they had a reason to anyways.”

“Well I have a small feeling somebody is gonna lose their job today.” You looked over Yoongi’s shoulder to see his Manager in a heated conversation with Lakers Staff. He looked over to his manager, then turned back to you wearing a grimace. You both began laughing, covering your mouths with your hands as an attempt to hide it.

Sometime later, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. “Do you mind waiting a bit, hun? I wanna see my man before we head out. Should only be about 15 minutes.” Becca asked, gathering her stuff. You shrug, nodding - there was no other way you would get back to her house anyways.

As she walked off, you began gathering your stuff, then turned to Yoongi. Taking a deep breath, you blurted out without thinking, “thank you for making the game a bit more enjoyable! It was really nice meeting you!” You immediately cringed at yourself, apologizing. I really need to think before I speak my dear god, you thought.

“You’re okay, y/n! I enjoyed your company too.” Yoongi gave you a small smile, causing you to smile back. There was a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you - even though the arena was still loud. “Oh! You said you were here for the weekend, are you busy tomorrow night?” Yoongi asked, breaking the silence.

“Other than I’m visiting UCLA before noon and probably going to go shopping once Becca is off work, I have nothing else planned!” Your heart began to race, you cannot believe this is happening.

“Awesome! Well we’re thinking of hitting a club downtown tomorrow evening, around 9? Would you guys want to join us? If that’s your thing, haha” Yoongi asked, looking nervous while looking for his phone.

“I would be down! Though you’d have to tell me where to go cause I no idea where that place is at.” You smile. Yoongi smiles back, looking like he let out a sigh of relief. He then hands over his phone, asking for your number.

“I’ll text you when I get back to my hotel?” He asks.

“Okay! Can you send those photos over that you took then?” You respond, Yoongi nodded in response. His manager then came back to his side, noting his departure. You two waved, sharing huge smiles. Becca soon returns to your side. “Why the big grin, hun?”

“I’ll tell you in the car!” You say, wearing a huge smile on your face, silently praying to your higher powers to not mess up this weekend.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

Unknown number: Hey! It’s Yoongi! ☺️

Y/N🐙: Hey! I’m assuming you made it back to your hotel okay?

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Yes! Only had to deal with Army’s; no paps thank goodness.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Did you make it home yet?

Y/N🐙: Yes - like we just pulled up to her apartment.

Y/N🐙: Also didn’t have to deal with paps 💁🏼

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Oh thank goodness 😮‍💨

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Attachment - 2 photos

Y/N🐙: Ooh! I like those!

Y/N🐙: Attachment - 3 photos

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Ooh these ones are cute

Y/N🐙: Cute?? 👀

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Like I said, wouldn’t have talked to you if I didn’t want to - wanted to cause I think you’re cute 🤷🏼‍♀️

Y/N🐙: …🤭

Y/N🐙: That’s as good of a flirty comeback as I can conjure at the moment cause it’s past my bedtime 🥲

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: I understand - it’s past mine too. I have a mid morning photo shoot tomorrow; I’ll text you in the morning?

Y/N🐙: Works for me! 😌

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“What time are you going to the college?” Becca asked the next morning while she was feeding her dog, Vanya.

“I meet with the Head of the Post Grad Biology department at 11, so probs head out at 10. Will that be enough time for me to get there?” You asked, pulling up the subway schedules.

“It should be. But I’ve gotta go - I’ll be home around 4 and we can go shopping for outfits for tonight?” You nodded in response as your phone pinged, showing a new message. Becca leaned over to peek at your phone to see a message from Yoongi. “My dear Gods this man must like you enough to text you at 8 am on a Saturday!” She smirks as you try to hide the blush on your face.

“Get to work, loser. I’ll see you later!” You laugh as her and Vanya run out the door.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Morning! ☺️ What time are you headed to the college this morning?

Y/N🐙: Morning!! I meet with the Department Head at 11, so I’m headed out a bit before 10!

Y/N🐙: What time is your shoot?

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: It starts at 9 - thankfully I’m not having to go far cause I’m not even awake enough to order the right coffee this morning

Y/N🐙: Speaking of, I should probs make sure my route to the college includes a coffee stop. I’m still dealing with jet lag.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: You’re preaching to the choir, Y/N.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Aish, my manager is calling for me, I’ll give you a call after I’m done with the shoot!

Y/N🐙: Okay! Have fun! ☺️

After finishing breakfast, you changed into a simple pair of Khakis, a hunter green blouse and white vans. Donning a simple make up look, you completed the look with a simple ballet bun. Throwing on your AirPods, you headed out the door, making your trek towards the Subway station and hopefully some coffee.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“MIss L/N, I feel you would be an excellent addition to the Master’s Marine Bio Program! We could use a new Reseaarch Lab manager as well - plus you’d get credit for working.” You’d spent the last hour with the Department Head, him chatting your ear off. You’d grown more excited about attending; the lab job making the deal more enticing. Off hand, you’d mentioned your earlier lab work with your professor; the name immediately catching the Dept Head’s ear. “I thought I’d seen you were coming from MSUB! I had the honor of working with your Animal Bio professor years ago! Still love his research on scorpions - fascinating work.” You nod, having worked on it as your first lab project. Walking back to his office, he’d asked if there were any questions you’d had.

“Yes! I’d heard that Research Diving would be added to the curriculum - when is that happening?” You’d just finished your SCUBA certification for the subject - might as well use it.

“This next school year - right when you’d be starting if you enrolled by the end of next month!” You nodded, seriously contemplating applying. He handed you a business card, mention to email him once you had enrolled - if you choose to. You place the card in your wallet, standing to shake hands. Once you were out of his office, almost out of the building, you’d decided to check your phone. You look to see 3 messages from Yoongi, 2 from Becca and the Family Group Chat flooded with messages. Ignoring the group chat, you see that Becca is stuck working a double and won’t be able to join tonight. Internally cursing, you reply that it’s okay and you’d probably see her later tonight or in the morning. You then check the messages from Yoongi; 2 of them complaining about the shoot, and one asking if you were still at the college. You decide to call him instead.

“Hey, Y/N!” Yoongi picks up after 2 rings.

“Hey, Yoongi! I just saw your text messages; I just finished the college tour! Also, sorry about the shoot being so boring.”

“It’s no problem, but I was wondering if you’d have time to do lunch right now? I’m near the college and there’s a small restaurant nearby that I frequent anytime I’m in town.”

“Sure! I’m free for the afternoon. Can you send me the address?”

“Of course! Do you need a ride there?” You hear the text notification and check the address on Maps.

“Nah, it’s a block outside the campus - I can be there in 20 max!” Thank goodness you didn’t wear heels.

“Okay! I’ll meet you there then!” Hanging up the phone and putting your AirPods in, you began the trek to the restaurant. I’m really getting my steps in today I guess, you thought.

As you approach your destination, you pull out your phone to see if Yoongi is here yet (you’d made it in 10 minutes instead of 20), when you suddenly get a text notification from him.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: You know, that was one of my favorite songs to perform live - wish we could’ve performed it more than once.

Y/N🐙: …wut

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: UGH! It’s one of my favorites.

Yoongi🐈‍⬛: Also, it’s not good to listen to your music that loud.

Y/N🐙: …you’re scaring me

You feel a tap on your shoulder, so you quickly spin around and nearly give the perp, Yoongi, The Elbow. Pulling out one of your headphones, you shout “DONT DO THAAAAAT YOU SCARED ME!” wearing a frightened look. Yoongi was wearing a mischievous smile in return, which then made you glare at him.

He laughs, “I am so sorry - I just saw an open opportunity and took it!”

“I could’ve hurt you though!!”

“I don’t think you would’ve cause that much damage - now follow me!” He quickly changes the subject and you follow him into the restaurant, which happened to be Tradtional Korean. The older lady at the host stand looked up and her face lit up as soon as she saw Yoongi.

“Yoongi!! It’s been a while! How are you doing??” Yoongi bows to her, you follow in respect.

“Hae Won-nim, hello! It has been a while! Everything is going well! You have room for two more in here?” Yoongi jokes, looking around the crowded restaurant. Hae Won chuckles, giving the two of you a huge smile.

“Of course I do! I’ll have you and your friend follow me this way.” She then glanced over at you, putting emphasis on the word ‘friend’. Following the two, you decided not to put too much thought into it. Once sitting and handed menus, Yoongi helped you order (you asked him if there was something not too spicy; or at least milk to help with the spiciness), then filed you in on how the shoot went. You updated him on your decision for college; having chosen to apply to UCLA. When the meals came out, a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you; even with a busy restaurant.

“Ooooh Becca is gonna LOVE this for her after work meal! Thank you again, Yoongi.” You beam, happily full from lunch. Yoongi and you are wandering around the neighborhood, still in-depth with the conversation you were having at lunch. As you were meandering, you’d passed by a Record Shop - Yoongi insisted you both stop in. Which it’s a good thing you did - you were able to finally get your hands on some B-Side 7-inches from Slipknot and Foo Fighters.

“I’m taking it you’re a vinyl collector?” Yoongi inquires, chuckling as you dove head first into the vinyl section.

“…yes. It’s a soft spot of mine. My ex used to complain about how many I had, so I stopped buying any for a while. Now that I don’t have to worry about his opinion, I’m going a bit crazy with it. Besides, I have a lot of catching up to do.” Fishing out your vinyl list on your phone, you show it to him.

“You were not joking. But no BTS?” Yoongi looks in surprise.

“I already have what’s available on vinyl. But it’d be cool if you’d release Map of the Soul 7. And maybe Young Forever?” Tilting your head to the side, you smile and wiggle your eyebrows.

“…I’ll see what I can do.” Yoongi repsonds, smirking as he shakes his head.

After letting time slip from the both of you, Yoongi walks you back to the subway station. “Are you still on for tonight?” He asks as you reach the station.

“Yes! Though Becca won’t be joining - apparently she’s stuck working.” You sigh.

“That’s too bad - but I’m happy you can still join. I’ll have a driver come pick you up from her place at 9 - I’ll need you to send me the address.” You nod, sending it over to him.

“Well, I had fun, Yoongi. Thank you again for lunch - and the vinyls! I’ll see you tonight!” You open your arms to hug him, and thankfully he did the same. After holding each other for what feels like forever, you both let go. You look down at his lips,he does the same. Just as the both of you were moving in closer, the subway is pulling up, screeching to a halt. The announcer calls for your destination over the intercom, signaling its your time to leave. Sighing, you gather your stuff and head for the open doors. Before you board on, you turn to Yoongi, waving and yelling “I’ll see you tonight!!”, almost tripping as you enter the car. Yoongi giggles, shaking his head with a smile.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

“I need to see your ID, please”, the bouncer outside the door asks. You hand him your ID, noting to him that you’re supposed to meet somebody in the VIP area. Checking his list and your name, he confirms you, letting you in. “He’s in the third booth on the left, just so you know.” You thank him as you head up the stairs. You immediately notice Yoongi within the crowd; he must have been watching the door. You immediately rush over to him, being enveloped in a bear hug before you can say anything.

“Hey, Y/N! I was just about to grab drinks - come with me!” Yoongi weaves his arm through yours, pulling you towards the bar. Once up to the bar, he ordered a neat whiskey for himself and a blueberry Red Bull for you. “This outfit is a 180 from this afternoon!” He points out, giving your outfit a once over. You’d ditched the khaki outfit for a pleather mini skirt, black bralette, mesh top, fishnets and Dr. Martens.

“Well I wanted to go with something more…comfortable.” You smirk, moving closer to Yoongi.

“Well, I think this outfit looks amazing on you.” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You blush, biting your lower lip and look away. It’s Yoongi’s turn to smirk, passing you your drink. He offers his hand, which you take, and leads you over to the booth; where you’re introduced to some of his friends.

“So, did you want to go dance?” Yoongi asked, tilting his head towards the dance floor. You nod, following him out. Once you two are towards the center of the floor, Yoongi grabs your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest. As you two start dancing, all you can hear is the music and Yoongi’s soft, deep voice. One song turns into a few; simple dancing turns into sensual grinding. Yoongi is leaving small kisses and nips on the back of your neck; each one shooting sensations down to your core. You reach back, looping your arms around his neck as he pulls you flush with his front. You can feel his hard on, so you begin to tease him more, eliciting a low growl from him.

As another song ends, he pulls you back to the booth and before you can even try to sit next to him, he pulls you into his lap; your back to his chest and legs hooked around his. The implied dominance turns you on even more. As he is talking to his buddies, his gorgeous hands sit on your thighs, playing with the strings of the fish nets. While you nonchalantly carry on conversation with those around you, you shifted in his lap, eliciting another low growl. His hands begin to go higher up your legs, almost under the mini skirt. You look over your shoulder to try and catch his eye - he’s enveloped in a conversation next to you. You ‘readjust’ in his lap again, trying to catch his attention - he moves one hand dangerously close to your core. You sharply inhale, trying to pull your skirt hem down a bit. You feel Yoongi’s lips on the tip of your ear, “you best behave, baby.” Your face and ears feel like they’re on fire - his fingers brushing over your bare folds, making you inhale sharply again. He stops his movement, pulling his hand from you skirt. “Let’s go dance again.” He pulls you from his lap, then grabs your hand, dragging you across the dance floor before you can even register what’s going on.

On the other side of the dance floor, in a dark corner, sat a couple private rooms. Yoongi opened a door, made sure nobody was in there, then pulled you in. He slammed the door shut, then pinned you against the door with your hands over your head. With the hand on your thigh, he pushes your skirt up, resting his hand on your hip. He leans close to your ear again, speaking in a deep voice that made you even more wet. “First, you come here looking irresistible” his hand moves to your core. “Secondly, you feel the need to tease me” he finger slides along your slit, eliciting a small moan from you. “And the final strike, you’re not wearing panties?” He beings to play with your clit before inserting a finger into your pussy. “Y/N, I thought you were a good girl?” A second finger joins, causing you to moan even louder.

Gathering yourself for a moment, you look up at Yoongi. “I AM a good girl! Most of the time.” You smirked. Yoongi stopped his ministrations, pulling his fingers from you. The two of you lock eyes and Yoongi grabs your face, hungrily kissing you while pinning your body with his to the door. Letting out a moan, he takes the chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you grab his hair at the nape and slightly pull, causing him to growl and bite your bottom lip. He begins to kiss your jaw line, making his way down your neck and finally making purchase at the junction of your neck and collar bone. He sucks a mark there, drawing another moan from you. “I honestly don’t think I could ever get tired of that sound” Yoongi begins to kneel, propping a leg on his shoulder. “Now, let’s hear how you sound when I do this-“ licking a strip from the bottom of your slit to your clit, causing you to moan out his name. “Fuck, baby; you sound AND taste AMAZING.” Yoongi moans against your clit, causing you to moan as well. He dove in, lapping at your hole like a starved man. He soon moved his tongue up to your clit, inserting two fingers into your hole. You started feeling your core tightening when he found your sensitive spot, your hand immediately grabbing onto his hair.

“F-f-fuuuck, Yoongi. I’m close!” Your thighs begin to tremble, causing him to hook your other leg over his shoulder. He inserted a third finger into you, eliciting his name from your lips again.

“Baby, cum for me; let me have a taste.” As if you were a puppet under his control, your orgasm washed over you while Yoongi lapped up your cum from your pussy, not letting a drop go to waste. He kept lapping at you after you came down, causing you to pull him away due to overstimulation. Yoongi then adjusts your mini skirt, standing to meet your slightly fucked out gaze with his own. He then gently cradled your chin, kissing you softly. Breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against yours, releasing a deep, but content, sigh. “Would you like to continue this at my hotel room?” His eyes felt like they were looking into your soul at this point; but you couldn’t look away either. With a big smile and a glint in your eye, you say in a small voice:

“Yes. Please.”

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The hotel room door isn’t even fully shut before you two were all over one another, a trail of clothing following the two of you while making your way to the bedroom. Once fully stripped, Yoongi lifted you under your thighs and placed you on the bed. As he hovered over you, he gazed down at your figure - your hair fanned over the pillow, eyes dilated and bottom lip bitten. To him, you were the most beautiful thing on earth. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, “baby, I don’t think I have condoms with me, I cou-“

You quickly interrupted him, “as long as you’re clean, I’m good. Had my check up a couple weeks ago and I’m in the clear, plus haven’t hooked up with anybody since my ex. Also, am on the pill religiously, so if you’re good to go, so am I.”

Yoongi looks at you with his signature gummy smile, “fuck, baby.” His lips find your sensitive spot on your neck immediately, sucking another mark there. His hands glide south gently along your curves, then onto your inner thighs, touching just enough to send sparks up your spine and to your pussy. As his fingers lightly touch your folds, his mouth begins to move to your chest, capturing a nipple with it. He then plunges two fingers into you, “still so wet for me, baby.”

“Yoongi, fuuuuck”, still slightly sensitive from the orgasm before, you feel yourself coming to the edge a bit quicker than usual. He moves from one nipple to the other, using his fingers to scissor you pussy wider. “I’m gonna cu-“ Yoongi then pulled his fingers out, leaving you on edge. Your eyes grew big and you let out a strained whine, completely astonished at what he just pulled.

“I want you to cum on my cock, can you be a good girl and do that for me?” He asks as he sticks his fingers into your mouth, having you taste yourself. You nod, then he pulls his fingers from your mouth, pumping his thick cock before he slid the tip along your pussy lips a couple times to collect some of your arousal. He wraps your legs around his waist, then began to slowly enter you. He leaned over to trap your lips and the loud moan that they would inevitably release as he filled you to the hilt.

“Fuuuuck, I already feel so full”, you moan out. Yoongi’s cock was probably the biggest you’d taken, the stretch causing a little pain, but it was immediately blocked by the immense pleasure. Just from him entering you, you already felt you were gonna cum.

“Ahhh, Y/N baby, I can already feel you clenching around me. You gonna cum already?” Thrust. “My cock feel that good, baby?” Thrust. “You even look fucked out already, can’t even answer me!” Thrust. “Cum for me, baby - now.” You then let go on command, feeling your core unravel as Yoongi continued to thrust through your comedown. He then took your legs up, pushing the back of your thighs to bring your legs down to your chest - putting you in a mating press.

As he began to pump into you again, you looked down at where you two connected. “Oh my god, right there, Yoongi. FUCK.” He was hitting that spot again, better than last time. Your brain was starting to turn cock-drunk; all you could think of was the pure pleasure Yoongi was giving you as you looked down again.

“Ohhh, you like seeing my cock split this pretty pussy, don’t you? This. Pretty. Pussy. Feels. Amazing. Like. It’s. MADE. For. Me.” He punctuated each word with a thrust, his hands pushing your legs wider so he could see more of you. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m getting close. Gonna fill this pretty pussy full of me - gonna make it mine.” He brought a thumb to you clit, drawing figure eights to bring you to his level again. You were a bumbling mess; not even able to form words or thoughts as you were getting close. Just as your orgasm hit for the third time tonight, your clenching triggered his release, painting your walls white. After a couple thrusts to get out all the semen, Yoongi then collapsed on top of you, still inside. Both of you took a moment to catch your breath, staring deep into each other. Yoongi smiled, kissing your nose, then bringing his forehead to yours. “You okay, babe?” You smile and nodded, still feeling slightly fuzzy. As he softened, he pulled out, watching some of your mixed cum leak out. Letting out a content sigh, he stood up, picking you up bridal style. “Come on - let’s get cleaned up.”

Once out of the shower; which included you being fucked on the wall from behind (his excuse: Not my fault all of you is irresistible). You got dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, then went to grab water as he got dressed as well. As you hand him his water, Yoongi notices a glint of a worried look on your face. Putting a finger under your chin to have you make eye contact, he asks, “penny for your thoughts?” You sigh, contemplating just saying no. But you couldn’t, as it immediately bugged you.

“Do I need to have Becca pick me up? And if so, do you want her to do it soon or earlier in the morning? I mean I don’t want to cause any dra-“ Yoongi pulls you into an intense kiss, shutting you up immediately.

“Y/N, baby, you worry too much. I want you to stay the night and I’ll take you back tomorrow when we both feel like it. Maybe we’ll get brunch first or something like that. I would like to get as much time with you as I can before I leave.” You left as though a weight was off your shoulders as you smile at him. After finishing your waters, you both head to bed, lying on Yoongi’s chest. His steady heartbeat, breathing and his fingers combing your hair helped you fall asleep. Yoongi then softly cradled your cheek, placing a kiss on your head. I hope to be able to see you again, baby, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

Waking up the next morning, you and Yoongi decide to go to a small cafe a couple blocks from his hotel. After orders are placed and juices are brought to the table, he grabs your hands with his. You look up at him and he asks, “So since you’re going to UCLA, when are you moving here?”

“I will probably move here next month, depending on when the apartment next to Becca’s is ready to go. Why?”

“Well, somebody has to help you move - that somebody being me.” he kissed your knuckles.

——————————

A/N pt 2: This legit was sitting in my drafts for almost a month because writing the not smut part was harder than it needed to be 🥴

[cyberpunkhwx]

When they find your p*rn dash

❥Pairing: ateez hyung line x gn(fem?) Reader

❥ Genre: Suggestive

❥Warning: mention of porn, mention of future sexual actions, suggestive, comedy?(nah just me trying to be funny)

❥Word count:

❥Requested? No

Hongjoong:

"Babe! Can I borrow your laptop? I forgot mine at the dorm" Said your boyfriend in the livingroom. You were in the kitchen, making the dinner while Joong was continuing his work from home.

You let out a hum, trusting your boyfriend with your belonging, not minding it at all.

He took it as a green light as he muttered a "Thank you" as he opened your laptop.

As he settled everything down, he found a weird looking tab open. Maybe it was important? He decided to let it be and just open a new tap bit curiosity took better of him.

But the random moaning sound that came put of the tab catching you both off guard, making you come running to your bf.

"Y/N!! IS THAT WHAT YOU WERE WATCHING YESTERDAY AND TOLD ME ITS JUST ANOTHER ROM-COM MOVIE?"

"MAYBE!"

Silence. No one said a word until he took a deep breath and started again.

"You know we could actually give that position a try you kno- KIM HONGJOONG!- JUST AN IDEA OKAY!!

Ddeonghwa:

It didn't take him long to snap at how "messy" your apartment was. Well, to you, it's pretty normal but your bf definitely disagreed.

"Move your feet y/n"

"agh"

"Don't 'agh' me young lady, I'm here doing you a favour"

"And I'm realllllllyyyyyyy thankful to you babe, I love my responsible boyfriend sooo much"

"T-thanks babe- Wait, Y/L/N Y/N you know this ain't my responsibility right?"

"Yeah yeah sorry my bad"

He huffed, not really pleased with your answer but kept on his work.

"Babe, you gotta update your shopping list"

"My phone is there" you said pointing at your desk with your toes.

"Are you that lazy y/n? C'mon get up" He said going toward your phone. Entering your password and going to find your Note app.

Only to have his eyes blessed with the playing video of a video screaming her lungs out, as she's being pounded like no tomorrow

You suddenly jump out of the bed toward him and try to snach the phone out of his hands.

But as the little shit he is, he held it above your head. Using his height to keep you on your toes as the video is still being played.

"What? Were you watching it yourself at some point? Let's check it together, huh?"

He let out another loud laugh as he heard you whining in his chest.

"We gonna do alot with this video, baby"

Yuyu:

He hasn't been the same since he opened your phone and saw your twitter bookmarks.

Like he knew you can find everything on the bird app but y/n, HIS Y/N?

"Here I thought I've been planning to wife up a cutie not knowing how filthy they were"

He thought to himself smirking as he got up from his position on the chair. Making his way to your shared room. Where you were laying cluelessly.

"Hi sweetheart, how are you?" He said basically jumping on you, easily towering on you body with his.

"A little bird told me you liked it when I use advantage of my giant self" He said as he slipped his hands to your face.

"Wha-who-w-why would you ever think like that?" You argued, clearly not ready for him to find out this way.

"Deny all you want love, I won't keep you from the endless pleasure I can give you, now that... I know" He whispered the last part as he grinned beside your ear.

Yeosang:

"I never knew you were into Hard-core Bdsm gets fucked on the wal -" you snached the phone out of his hands before he kept reading the title of the tab you left open before using the bathroom.

"How much of that did you see?!" You said Panicked of your boyfriend seeing the kinky side of you.

You always tried to keep ot vanilla. Slow and gentle kissed. Nothing like what your boyfriends eyes just witnessed.

"Enough" He said smiling to himself.

"Is this why you insisted on having empty walls in almost every room? I could do that if you want to, you I do!" He said flexing his arms as he still gave you his goofy smile.

"Emm- ohhh guess what my mom just called and I gotta- it's fine I wasn't planning on doing anything now- Oh... that's- Cuz I'm gonna devour you whole tonight Babe. Wear the lacy once, those you keep under your socks"

He said now taking his own phone and leaving you to "call your mom".

A/n: lemme know how it was!

Requests: Open

Masterlist

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; jealousy; negative self-talk; talks of miscarriage and hysterical pregnancy; allusions to childhood abuse; talks of pregnancy; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; therapy; talks of grieving a baby; pregnancy hormones (just the beginning lol); reader checking Jake out and being sad while she does it (lmao) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 22.1k+

a/n: sorry it took a month, besties... hopefully this angsty fucking chapter makes up for it lmao <3

and don't worry, i won't be gone long ;)

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 30, 2022

Birds were chirping. The melodies of an acoustic guitar playing lullabies made your heart warm in your chest. A baby’s cries were being mellowed by the sound of the guitar. A smile, reaching the baby’s face that matched the one on the man playing the strings.

But you couldn’t look at him. Only the bundle of pure, unadulterated, untouched love in your arms; her eyes, looking the same as his, caught yours, the color of caramel coffee. . . twinkling just like his. . .

All pink and white and golden rays of sunshine.

Then, it was gone. 

No. Not again.

There was no more peace. No more lullabies. No more love from parent to child. . .

All dark and dirty and ear-piercing screams. 

A sister, trying to cover your eyes from what was happening, just inches in front of you.

Then there were hands. Hands gripping at your arms, the sister screeching, yelling and clawing for you as she got ripped away. As you got picked up so harshly your head hit something hard, making you dizzy. . . 

When you closed your eyes from the dizziness, you opened them afterwards to see that your sister was back. But she was older this time. 

Elsie. She was stunningly beautiful, as you knew she would grow up to be. Put together in an outfit that resembled that of Rachel Green. Her hair, flowing in strawberry blonde, soft waves around her delicate features and her blue eyes were wide open and wondering. Searching your eyes for something hidden in them. . .

What was she wanting? You couldn’t tell . . . Just as you were about to speak to ask her, she was in front of you, nudging you, not nearly as abrasively as the hands from before. 

You studied her quizzically – why was she–?

“Wake up!”

And the next time you blinked, your eyes were opened wide. 

To reality. To Elsie, shaking your arm in the present. You were an adult, she was an adult. Things were okay.

Life was safe again.

Shit. I’m so tired of that fucking dream, you thought angrily, sitting up and letting the covers fall away from your sweaty, tensed body. 

Blinking furiously, you let yourself cling to the softness— the safety of your bed. The bed hugged you, cocooned you in the fluffy down comforter. You were in your clean, quiet apartment. . . the rays peeking through your bedroom windows the same as they’d been at the beginning of your dream. 

“Sis,” Elsie said your name, out of all of her patience. “Come the fuck on. I’m hungry and I need coffee so bad. You know me. You know I’m about to lose all ability in my limbs if I don’t have caffeine stat–I need it. To survive,” she clutched her chest dramatically. “Please. Get your lazy ass up.”

You rolled your eyes with a giant huff, throwing your covers off of you to try and hit her with them. When you heard her gasp and slap at the covers, you figured you succeeded. 

“Y/n!” She said, backing up from the bed. When you saw her next, her hair was sticking up on all sides from static. Success. But she was laughing, finding it funny nonetheless. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said, sitting up to stretch a little. You had to fight the urge to put a hand to your tummy. Not in front of Elsie. “Now leave, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before,” she argued. “Nothing I haven’t seen already.”

There sure as hell is something you haven’t seen on me already. . . Albeit a little small, but rounder nonetheless. 

“Well I don’t want you to look at my naked body this morning, so get the fuck out.”

You were getting irritated. Just wanted to change in peace. Wanted to hold your belly to start the day. It was routine at this point.

She growled, opening your door. “You have five minutes, or I’m leaving your ass.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you pulled up to Waffle House, scream-singing Ariana Grande lyrics with Elsie at the top of your lungs, you were sincerely hoping that your stomach wouldn’t roll at the smell of the greasy breakfast food. 

The nostalgia of the morning was something you wanted to wrap up tight and not let flutter away in the crisp and cool October breeze.

Please, sweet baby, you pleaded. Love Waffle House with me. Don’t make me give this up.

You wanted this with Els. This particular establishment had been cathartic to you and your sister for several years. Talks that far surpassed therapy sessions occurred here, in the back booth, almost completely surrounded by windows. . . The thought of sitting in that back booth was enough to make you cry right on the spot. 

And the All Star Special sounded so fucking delicious. Good sign that it at least still sounded good, right? 

You just wanted scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns with ketchup, and a gigantic waffle with the restaurant name pressed in the middle. It was all you wanted at that moment. Truly. Nothing more, nothing less. . . Your mouth was watering.

Cheesy and strange as it was, you were quite literally crossing your fingers that the food wouldn’t make you projectile vomit as Elsie opened the door for you two. 

Please don’t make me sick, please don’t make me sick. . .

To your extreme relief, your tummy didn’t knot and squeeze. No bile came to the base of your throat. . . In fact, the vanilla waffle mixture, the sizzling, salty smell of the bacon and ham. . . it was better than before. Your heightened senses welcomed the scrumptious, sentimental scents that came with the establishment. 

And the back booth was open! 

Tears literally pricked your eyes at the sight. And you must’ve sniffled because Elsie spun around, where you waited to be seated, and checked on you with worried eyes.

“You okay?” She pondered, her tone light with a joke, but eyes still serious. 

Not able to fully collect yourself thanks to the fantastic hormonal effects of your pregnancy, you felt a tear hit your cheek when you sniffled once more. 

“Yeah,” goddamn, even your voice sounded fucking wet with emotion. “Just happy to be here with you.”

Tell her, y/n. Let her help you. . .Tell her.

Fuck that came out of nowhere. 

The soft, reassuring voice being the one to guide you would take a lot of getting used to if it was going to continue as the one to help you, rather than the harsh, critical one that’d taunted you since you were a child.

Honestly, when the calm voice came to you, your mind settled in the waves of reassurance. This was the voice you longed to hear anytime the dark one wanted to boss you around. . .wanted to push you down when you were up. 

It always spoke soft truths to you. This voice didn’t make you feel like utter shit; this was the one that sounded more like Elsie than you’d like to admit.

As you started walking to your beloved booth, you were trying to find a solid reason to not tell Elsie right now. . . You had to tell someone. Right? And it was killing you to be around her and keep her in the dark. She was safe. And, at that moment, the only person you really wanted to tell was your big sister. No matter how bossy she may get, it was worth it to have her know. She was your one and only safety net for years for good reason. 

And she was going to be leaving again tonight until Thanksgiving. There was no way you could wait to tell her until then. 

She’d also never forgive you if you kept it from her for too long. You couldn’t blame her. If roles were reversed, you’d kill her if she waited to tell you until she had a noticeably round belly. . .

You sat down at your booth. You, at the seat with your back to the big windows, her smile wide as she made small talk with the worn-out waitress. Elsie’s smile, though, was big enough it brought a smile to the tired woman’s face. Elsie got along with everybody, and the waitress was no different. 

God, she was sunshine for you. 

As the woman placed your menus down in front of you two, you immediately flipped it to the side with the All Star Special. You watched her kind face, aged from years of hard work, and found comfort in the thickness of her voice from even more years of smoke, as she asked for your drink orders. 

Elsie ordered her blessed coffee and you sat there, contemplating. . . stuck. Normally, you’d order a Mr. Pibb. . .but was that healthy for the baby?

Your sister stared at you, her brows wrinkled as she gave you a questioning smile. 

“Just get her a Mr. Pi–,” Elsie started.

“I’ll take an orange juice,” you finished. 

The sweet waitress left to get your orders ready, and when you looked up from your menu to Elsie’s face again, she was looking at you like you’d grown three heads.

 “Orange juice?!” She asked, as if you’d just insulted her on a great scale. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

You felt nervous under her stare and questions. You were going to tell her anyway. . . why were you feeling your skin prick with nerves? 

“Just felt like getting an orange juice. . .,” you said, shrugging your shoulders to play it off. “No biggie.”

“I cannot remember one time we’ve come here– in the years we’ve come here– where you’ve gotten anything besides a Mr. Pibb.” She leaned across the table to put the back of her hand to your forehead. She then jokingly asked, “Are you well?”

You watched her laugh at her own joke, her eyes, smiling. The same ones you’d looked into when, for years, you’d told her your deepest secrets. . . A couple of things came to your mind. When you lost your virginity and felt like shit about it (for God knows what reason); she’d raised your spirits by telling you she’d felt the same at first, but it got better with time. Then there’d been when you’d smoked weed for the first time and you felt so horribly about it (again, why?); she told you it was not a bad thing to do and that you deserved to feel so free as the drug would make you feel. 

Very rarely had she been extremely judgemental. 

Right now, she was giving you yet another look of concern, though. . .So, you decided. It was time. Now or never.

“Sis, what’s–?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There it was. First time you’d said it out loud. Damn. In that moment, it felt even more real to you, too. 

You were with child. There was a baby in you. There was life growing inside of your uterus. 

Then the opposite train of thought rushed through you. . .were you pregnant? Was the baby still in there? You hadn’t really had time to obsessive-compulsively research any of that yet. Could your tummy still grow if you had a miscarriage? Was that possible? Was there a baby inside of you?

You had to shake your head from your sudden wave of unwelcome, anxious thoughts. There was no reason to believe you’d lost the baby. . . right? Surely. . . You wouldn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. Blinking a few times, you chanced a look at your sister again.

She gaped at you, staying that way until the waitress came back with your drinks, not saying a word. Didn’t even look away from you when the waitress spoke, asking for your orders. You had to tell the woman it would be a minute, while Elsie still zoned out on you. 

Her eyes just bored into yours until you started feeling uncomfortable and irritable. 

Talk, Elsie. Fuck.

You clasped your hands together under the table, over your tummy. . .had to do something with them. And after continuing to wait a couple more minutes, you decided if she wasn’t going to say anything, you would. “Can you say some–?”

“What the fuck?” She asked, voice much louder than it should be for a quiet Sunday morning at Waffle House. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the heads of patrons turn towards you. Inquiring eyes were not what you needed at the moment.

Your cheeks heated as you grit your teeth. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Elsie?” You fumed, automatically defensive for the life inside of you. “I had sex. I got pregnant. Simple as that.”

You’d never felt this sense of protection for anyone in your life. Not even your sister. No, at that moment, you were ready to go to bat for your baby against the woman who’d been your first line of defense your entire life. 

Thankfully the next time she talked, she sounded more subdued and understanding.

“I– I didn’t mean for it to come off that way, babe,” she said, shaking her head, laying a hand against her forehead. Her eyes searched for yours to believe her. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right response.”

“It’s oka–.”

“This is a sensitive time for you–for any woman–my god,” she continued, not letting you make any excuse. “I was just in shock–still am, obviously–but I’m not upset,” she said, pausing. Then she narrowed her eyes, testing you. “How far along are you though?”

You giggled, remembering your earlier thoughts. The two of you were so alike. More like twins than anything, honestly. “I’m only like ten weeks, I think,” you smoothly said. “I found out two weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep it or not, and I didn’t want to tell anyone until I decided. It was my decision and I didn’t want anything or anyone to sway me.”

“That is all valid and correct,” she agreed, nodding her head. Then, she continued asking questions as she poured too much half and half in her coffee. “How do you feel about it? Good? Bad? Sad? Happy? Overjoyed? Utterly depressed?”

Your eyes bugged, and you waved your hands at her once she was drinking from her mug, watching you and waiting for a response. “Damn, slow down,” you began, entwining your hands again, on top of the table this time. “First of all, per usual, I don’t always know how I’m feeling. . . But–it’s strange,” you started, squinting out the window just next to her. “It’s like, this time, instead of bouncing back and forth between sad and mad and confused. . .I’m more bouncing between a variety of happy emotions for this life,” you untangled your hands to once again place them on your tummy, below the table. “The confusion is still there, but for this baby. . .the emotions are mostly positive ones full of hope and love,” you looked back at her. “It’s weird.”

She was squinting at you, nodding her head as she took everything in. 

Then the waitress was back, taking your orders. And just as soon, she was gone.

Elsie spoke before you could. “What changed?”

Snorting, you gave her a look. “Really, Els?”

Yet again, she narrowed her eyes, but this time it was out of annoyance. “You know what I mean.”

You did. She wanted to get to the heart of it. Not the situation. But what had changed inside of you to instigate your new, surprising view of things? You really weren’t sure . . . To be completely honest, this new feeling had just started yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago, you’d made the decision that would change your life forever.

But, you answered the best you could in spite of it all. 

“I don’t know,” you glanced down at your hands, holding your sweater-clad tummy. You hadn’t had to delve into oversized sweaters the past couple of weeks. Not quite yet. Your tummy wasn’t that round. “I just kind of started thinking on behalf of this life I made, and not really myself. I put him, her–whatever the fuck it is– first and doing that just gave me this new outlook. Like I didn’t have all of the time in the world to criticize myself anymore. Because I have someone else to look out for. Someone special–someone whose life I have to be careful with– a life I hold in my hands.”

She giggled. “Literally,” she motioned in the direction of your hand placement. You joined in on her little moment of humor, enjoying the feeling of normalcy with her. She knew, and things were still the same as always. You didn’t feel any weirdness emanating off of her. This moment was easing you and brought you a sense of undefinable calm. Something you’d needed so badly. She kept on, having more to say. “I’m so fucking glad you’re starting to feel lighter,” she stated, reaching a hand out towards you, palm up on the table. “You’ve always carried so much on your shoulders. Always. And it has sucked to watch helplessly. You have hurt for too damn long and you deserve more than anyone to feel this new happiness.” 

The tear that suddenly gathered at the corner of your eye and trickled down your cheek was unstoppable.  

You moved a hand to place in hers and you squeezed each other. “Thanks Els,” you wetly responded. And nothing more– just needed her to know you were thankful.

After a minute of just communicating with your eyes, your food was being brought in small increments. Her biscuits and gravy were placed at the same time as your plate of eggs, hash browns, and ham. 

“Your waffle will be out shortly, honey,” the waitress smokily said, tone sweet as could be. “You two enjoy.”

After you’d both responded with a nod and she was gone, there was no stopping you two from digging in. 

After swallowing her first bite of food with a moan, she looked at you, still chewing your hash browns, which now tasted more like the sugary, tomatoey ketchup you’d smothered them with. 

“God, I was starving,” she said, taking a little sip of her half and half with a dash of coffee. She squeaked a little as she set her coffee down, a smirk on her glossed lips. “Josh would not quit last night.” 

You made a gagging motion at the implication, your brow furrowed with disgust at her words. 

Then, you took your first sip of orange juice. 

Goddamn.

Fuck! Ew. Baby does not like orange juice.

Coughing a little, your throat felt ready to reject the liquid right as it hit your uvula. Gross as it was, you put as much as you could back into the glass, not caring for Elsie’s reaction. 

“That’s not nasty at all,” she sarcastically noted, still chewing her food. 

You kept coughing into your hand, swallowing as much as you could, focusing on getting it down, not wanting to projectile vomit all over your breakfast. 

I’ll show you nasty, Elsie. Don’t test me.

You rolled your eyes at her remark, finally getting the remains of the drink down. You held your napkin to your face, coughing a bit. “Says the woman who’s talking and chewing,” you said, your voice weak to avoid any bile rising in your throat and at the sour, putrid taste still sitting on your tongue. “And you’re one to talk–telling me way more than I need to know about Josh.”

She snickered. “I’ll tell you more. Just say the word.”

Laughing once outright, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that won’t ever be happening,” you tried taking a bite of hash browns to get the taste of orange juice off your tongue. But it only made it worse. Your throat was not ready to accept any more at the moment. Spitting the mushy remains in your napkin, folding it up so as not to offend other customers. Your throat was tight as you responded. “I need water.”

“Here we go, babydoll! Waffles just for you,” the waitress returned, placing the food right in front of you. The waffle did not look appetizing in the slightest. You didn’t bother looking up to say anything, instead squeezing your eyes shut and willing the nausea away. “You okay, sweetie? D’ya need anything?”

“Can we get a water and a Sprite?” Elsie intervened, calmly requesting. “And like, ASAP, if that’s doable. . .”

“Sure thing! Back in a flash!” 

You kept your eyes closed, the twirling in your stomach not going away, but not intensifying either. You were scared to talk–afraid of what might come from your mouth if you did. 

“Here,” the sweet, older lady’s voice rang through, as you heard the plastic cups hit the table. She was rushing, her voice moving fast. “Gotta go to another table, but wave me down if ya need me, sugar.”

“I think we’re good for now,” Elsie reassured. You could hear the smile in her tone. “Thank you so much.” A few seconds passed, then your sister was tapping your hand that was still laid on the table. “Sis, please take a drink from one of them.”

Keeping one hand pressed to your mouth, you tapped the wrapper off of the straw. You chose the carbonated Sprite, banking on the carbonation and natural aid of Sprite for a sensitive stomach.

As soon as the ice cold, fizzing drink hit your tongue, you felt relief. The feeling hadn’t gone away in your tummy, but you also didn’t feel like you were going to hurl at any moment anymore either. You took a few short, yet healthy, sips, eyes closing again to center yourself. 

Your eyes trailed back to hers after you sat the cup down.

“You okay?” Elsie questioned, following you with her blue eyes, which swam with concern. You nodded, then she talked again. “Do you get sick a lot?”

Reaching for the water, you took one little drink of that, finally feeling able to talk. Your stomach was simmering slowly. You pushed the plates away, needing the food away from you for the time being.

“Not hungry?” 

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “Not now. Fuckin’ orange juice,” you flipped off the offensively orange drink. Elsie snorted at you, and you grinned at her. “And to answer you, yes. I puke all of the time. Thought it was stress at first. Just throwing up because of all of my stress.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing her own food away. “You’re an idiot.” You scoffed at that, offended. “I’m just saying. You’ve never been a puker. Fevers and shit, yes. But never thrown up a whole lot. And you’ve had some terrible fucking stress in your life. . . never vomiting from any of it; just to remind you.”

“I guess I just wanted to stay ignorant,” you admitted. “And I didn’t think it was possible at all that I was pregnant.”

She hummed in understanding, then she leveled you with a stare as she took a drink of her coffee. 

“What now?” You groaned. “You fuckin’ weas–.”

“Does Jake know?”

Your stomach fell all the way to the bottom your feet. Fuck. What? How did she know?

Stupidly, you tried to reject it. Why would you try to hide it from her? You didn’t know. There was no point in trying to hide it. 

“Why would he need to know? This doesn’t concern him. He’s not the fath—.”

She practically honked with a huge laugh, blossoming from the back of her throat. You blushed, sinking back into your seat. Why would you even try to play dumb? You knew better than to do that with her. 

After wiping a little tear from below her eye, she sipped at her water. Sitting her glass down, she coughed a couple times and snorted with another giggle before continuing. “Please do not insult my intelligence like that.”

Weakly, you tried to defend yourself. “You believed me at the festival that we weren’t fucking anymore, so I just assumed–.”

“You think I believed that shit?!” She gawked at you– in disbelief that you’d thought that of her. “I just wasn’t going to push it out of you while you were so obviously in the depths of sorrow over that girl that was with him.”

Face flushing yet again, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “‘Depths of sorrow’ is dramatic.” And true, you silently agreed with her. So incredibly, stupidly true.

“And you’re pregnant with Jake’s kid,” she pushed, wanting to hear you say it yourself.

You looked up at her through your lashes, not ready to say it out loud. But definitely needing to. . . and who better than your sister to say it out loud to for the very first time?

“Jake is the baby’s father, yes,” you said plainly, looking directly in her eyes as you said it. Then, immediately peering out the window, directly to your right. “Half him, half me,” you murmured, under your breath.

You pressed your shoulder, clad in your fluffy sweater, against the chilled glass. You still felt the coldness from the brisk autumn day through the thick windows. It calmed your heart which beat frantically against your breastbone. Talking out loud about Jake being the father of your child made reality slap you in the face. You were carrying Jake’s baby. Inside your womb was half of Jake and half of you. Together. Something you’d made. . . together. 

The thought of a part of him just floating around in your uterus was honestly jarring. . . but not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. No, in fact because the baby was half of him, you’d decided you had to keep it. Jake was the reason that the baby was a necessity to this world. A piece of the first man you’d ever. . . 

You shook your head amidst the raging thoughts, deciding to cut them off right. there. That was a path you did not want to venture down. 

Dangerous territory.

Knowing the baby was his and that fact being was the sole reason you had to keep it. . .that was big enough for you to acknowledge. Huge, actually. . . You couldn’t believe you’d let yourself face that so surely and honestly. But. . . that was something you refused to tell your sister. That was one thing for you and only you to know. It felt too personal to share–belonged in your heart alone.

The mother and child you were observing just outside Waffle House were about to get you lost in thought again . . . You could spend hours appreciating a true, authentic love between a mother and her child. You’d never had it, and it was just so unique in and of itself. A relationship that held its own definition of love. A love so lovely, precious, safe. . . wholesome.

You were desperate to create that for a child. Something you hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing. And the baby in your womb deserved to feel it. . . But could you do it? Or were you too much like your mom?

Before you could fall down that depressing rabbit hole, you slowly swiveled your head back in the direction of your sister. 

Then, without much contemplation, you unloaded. Told her everything. Informed her of the situation between you and Jake, how you started feeling iffy about all of it towards the end, and then how you’d decided to cut it off due to your desire to protect him. It rushed out of your mouth, with almost no thought and you honestly didn’t have time to consider anything before it slipped from your lips and into the air between the two of you. 

Elsie was watching you, eyes attentively following your every word and movement. She looked ready to help. As always. Her eyes, the color of the ocean and just as deep and sure as the waves that enveloped it. The overwhelming calm you felt after telling her, also similar to the ocean in its ability to offer peace. . . 

What she said first was not what you were expecting. No counsel. Just humility. 

“I’m sorry for what I said about you watching that girl with Jake at the festival,” she started, tucking her hands in her lap, expression sincere. “That was callous. Not the time.”

Wrinkling your brow, you argued back, unnecessarily defensive and overwrought with emotion after spilling all of that and for the life in your belly (lovely hormones). “I’m still me, Elsie,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

She raised a brow, combatting you. “Fine. If you’re still you, then I can say this: get the fuck over yourself and just be with him,” taking a drink of her coffee, she made a face. “Room temperature coffee is absolute balls,” she looked over her shoulder, trying to connect eyes with the waitress. 

You saw the woman head your way, and immediately got the hint when Elsie held the cup out with puppy dog eyes. “You’ve got it, sweet baby.”

“Thank you,” Elsie said, her voice that of a grateful servant to the woman. 

“You, with your food and drinks that must be so hot they burn your mout–.”

“We’re not done with you. So, shut up.”

“Jesus, Elsie! I–.”

Holding a perfectly manicured hand up, black nails flashing in front of you briefly, she cut you off. “No! I don’t want to hear any more of the bullshit. You’re literally having his baby. Get over this. . . thing in your head, and just be with him. You obviously want it. And I think he does, too.”

You sighed, the breath coming fully from your lungs. It wasn’t like you didn’t want it, too. . . it was just complicated. “It’s not that easy, Elsie,” you lamented. “There are several pieces to the puzzle.”

“Liiiiike . . .?” 

“Well, for one,” you held up a finger to start the count. “He has a girlfriend now.”

“No he doesn’t,” she scrunched her face, completely disagreeing. “He’s not with any–.”

“They showed up to the party together, Elsie. The girl from the festival. And they have a past. He was groping her all night last night and she never left his side,” you repeated the events aloud, your stomach rolling at the heinous thoughts. 

“Oh, shit,” her eyes got big, blowing out a slow breath. “I didn’t even realize. Josh and I–.”

“Were roaming the room for half of the night and preoccupied for the rest of it,” you said, shivering at the deplorable thought of your friend and sister. 

“I was with you for a good chunk of it, too, bitch,” she corrected, pointing at you. 

You stuck out your lip, nodding to agree. “You’re right. . .but you were also way too distracted by Josh to notice.”

She made the same face, mirroring you. “You are not wrong,” she grinned smartly, winking suggestively. “No regrets.”

“I’m going to puke on you.”

“Oh my god, please don’t,” she gagged. And then started singing a thank you as the waitress came back with your tickets and a fresh coffee. After dumping one million half and half cups into her mug, she took a hearty sip. When she sat it down, she practically vibrated in delight. “Oh hell yeah.”

“You know Josh hates coffee,” you noted. “Prefers tea.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. We’ve had many long debates over the ridiculous fact,” she growled. “He’s a miscreant when he wants to be.”

You laughed outright. “Yes he is. Little fuckin’ gremlin.” 

The sound that roared out of her was more reminiscent of a yell than a laugh, but it became a string of snorting and giggles that you joined in on. After a few minutes of enjoying the sound of the other’s laughter, you shook your head and scratched your brow before seeing your phone light up with a notification. 

Stupidly, your tummy fluttered at the possibility of it being Jake texting you. But then you remembered that he would absolutely not be texting you in his right mind. . . that was not where you were with him right now. You weren’t sure you’d ever be there with him again. And that thought made your tummy sink as soon as it’d fluttered. 

Though, the notification on your screen was enough to bring a little grin to your face, your eyes watering with the overwhelming excitement and joy that ignited in your heart at the update from your Ovia Pregnancy app. 

Week 10: Congratulations, y/n! You’re heading into the tail end of your first trimester. Your baby is now the size of a kumquat and almost 1 ¼ inches long!

Not being able to help it, you turned your phone to Elsie so she could see the notification as well. 

She read through it, her mouth moving as she took in the words. A wide, toothy smile made its way to her face–her entire demeanor lighting up with you. Clutching both hands to her chest, her eyes were wet next time you saw them. Your own eyes filled with more tears at her reaction to it. 

“I’m so proud to be an aunt to your little kumquat baby!” She said, her voice actually quivering with emotion. 

“I’m glad you’re proud,” you responded with a sniffle, drying your undereyes with a Waffle House napkin. “I’m proud, too.”

Her smile turned close-mouthed, yet no less sincere and delighted. “You should be,” she paused, then her crying eyes dried a bit as her tone turned serious. “And Jake will be, too. I know it, babe,” she stopped, pondering a thought. “You are going to tell him, right?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer. He had to know. You wanted him too, really. “Yes.” Then, your tummy flipped. “ But I don’t know if he’ll be super excited when I do,” you shook your head. “This was not in the cards for him this year. . . I wouldn’t blame him if he rejected the idea of me being pregnant with his baby.”

“Well, he wouldn’t reject it. I can say that for certain–I’m dating his twin and I know Josh would never reject a baby,” she said, wiping at her face with her own napkin. “And, I’m going to argue the other part, too. . . it obviously was in the cards for him,” she reached a hand out towards you and you took it. “This happened for a reason, sis. A good one. And Jake will view it as such.”

“I just don’t want it to slow him down,” you squeezed her hand, looking down to where they entwined on the gray table. “I need him to keep going and chase his dream.”

She raised a brow, shook her head from side to side, once again disbelieving. “He will, y/n. He’ll keep going. Josh is– and he and I are dating?. . . What’s the difference?”

“Where do I start? Most importantly, I’m messed up in the head and I need to work on myself before I expose him to myself,” you insisted, bringing your hand back to place on your tummy. “And he and Josh are different. . .Josh has a drive that Jake doesn’t. Jake gave up his dream before and he’ll do it again if he’s allowed. And a baby is already damn near the most drastically life changing thing that could happen to a person. Could completely screw up his plans,” you sighed resolutely. It was clear to her that you were firm on this, so she sat back with open and considerate eyes to let you finish. “Best to keep things separate between us so he has one less thing that is tempting him to put himself last. A baby is enough.”

She hummed, taking it all in. After taking a moment, she gave a response. “I just have one question.”

“Yes?” You prepared yourself, raising a brow.

“What’s the difference between you and the girl?-- What’s her name anyway?”

“Maya,” ugh. Hate that name. “Her name is Maya. And she is normal where I am not.”

“O-kaaaay,” she replied, still unsure of the validity in your response. You didn’t know why she seemed so unsure. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you were jacked up. She let out a massive sigh, then continued. “Well, I don’t personally think you know her well enough to make that assumption. She could be more detrimental to him than you–.”

“Not possib–.”

“And you could be exactly what he needs,” she said, almost in finality, though it was obvious she wasn’t done when she leaned forward, her tone hard and steadfast. “You’re also not as “jacked up” as you seem to believe you are. Have you got things to heal? Yes. But are you still one of the most incredible people that has ever walked this planet–if not the most incredible? Even more so, yes,” her eyes watered again, but she sniffed the tears away to say her last piece. “I think you could very well be exactly what Jake Kiszka needs to be complete. And even though I wasn’t around for all of the intricacies of you two, I should’ve caught on. Because I do know the way that man fucking looks at you. . . and dammit if I’ve ever seen another man look at a woman the way he looks at you. . . not even Josh with me or Grandpa with Grandma.”

Your heart swelled and your cheeks grew instantly red. Your blood buzzed in your veins. . . did he really look at you like that? 

Then, selfishly, you wondered if anyone else had noticed like Elsie had. . . like Josh. Fuck. Did he see how Jake looked at you? Had he already presumed things about you and Jake based on how his twin apparently, blatantly, ogled you? And then you realized, yet again, how you would have to obviously tell Josh of the baby. . . oh god; how would he react?

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need anyone to–.”

“To know?” She squeaked a giggle. “I’m sorry, babe. . . but I think your cover’s about to be totally blown within the next nine months.”

You groaned, placing your forehead in your hand as you blew your hair away from your face. “How will Josh react?” You moaned, halfway to yourself and halfway to her. 

“What?” 

You snapped up. “How in the hell is Josh going to react?!” You anxiously quizzed her, eyes wild. “He is already going to be hurt that I kept it from him. And then there’s the reason I kept it from him in the first place. . .,” you felt tears well in your throat right before you nearly slammed your head on your crossed arms, which laid against the table, dramatically. 

Okay, these hormones can fuck right off. 

“Why’s that, sissy?” She carefully inquired, tone soft, not judging your reaction the way you internally were. “Remind me again.”

You moaned, raising your head and willing the tears away. “He made it so incredibly clear to me how Jake didn’t need another woman infiltrating his life and distracting him. And how Jake needed this time to discover himself for the first time in his life. . . and I’ve completely ignored that desire of his,” a lone tear slipped from your ducts. “I’ve betrayed him. Selfishly.”

Letting the words sit in the air between you, she waited a couple of beats before inserting her two cents. “When does Jake finally get what he wants?”

You wrinkled a brow, tears completely dissipating out of curiosity for her next words.

“I mean. . .” she started, making a thoughtful smacking sound with her mouth. “Josh thinks he can call the shots. You think you can just decide to not let yourself ruin his life? Like, what the hell, first of all? And second of all. . . what if he doesn’t care about any of that shit and just wants you? Did you ever take a second to consider that?”

“Yes, Elsie,” you growled, defensive once again. “And that’s why I’m keeping the ball in my court. I’m protecting him. And that was Josh’s intent, too.”

“I don’t know where you two get off acting like Jake isn’t a grown ass man who can make his own decisions. . .,” she trailed off, flashing an irritated look out the window. 

You did not want to get into this right now. The conversation was trailing much further than you fucking wanted. Your nerves were practically electrifying you and your head felt heavy.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Elsie,” you shortly bit out at her. She snapped her head back at you, her eyes still on fire. You stayed firm. “I’m done talking about all of that shit,” your hands laid safely on your lower, swelling tummy. “I have bigger things to consider now,” after glancing down at your stomach, you hit her with another stern glare. “So drop it.”

Her chest was heaving. 

You were not sure what was happening; why was she suddenly so “Team Jake”? When had that happened? And again, why? 

“Fine,” she conceded, sniffing resolutely once and then went to sip her coffee. Which, by the look on her face, was cold again. “Yuck. Can we bust this joint and go to Starbs? I need the sweet stuff.”

You sighed with relief at the change in subject. “Yes,” you smiled. “Let’s.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was just you and your sister in the open apartment, which was now completely cleaned from last night’s festivities due to your obsessive-compulsive cleaning. Though, you couldn’t help but notice when you’d come back from breakfast, Jake had been gone and the apartment looked much better than when you’d left with Elsie. It felt nice that he cared for the apartment, too–enough to try to keep it clean. 

You trained your thoughts on Elsie, as she waited at the door to leave, bags completely packed, awaiting her Uber to the airport (you were, unfortunately, so suddenly fucking tired that you had decided you weren’t fit to drive her). 

You didn’t want to let her go. She was your one person who knew now, and no matter how much she challenged your stance on Jake, she was still your sister and your person and you needed her with you during this time. . .

“Can you not just stay for a couple more days?” You tried once more, knowing better than to ask, as she’d repeated the words more than once now. “Let them know your sister is having an existential crisis and needs you?”

She huffed with a grin, rolling her eyes. “You are literally fine,” she reassured, reaching a hand out to hold your arm. But instead of letting it stop there, you fell into it and let yourself fall into her–let yourself wrap both of your arms around her shoulders, hugging yourself tightly to her. 

“Please don’t leave,” you moaned, your voice so meek it was straight up depressing. “I need you.”

She hugged you back, dropped her duffel off her shoulder in the process of embracing you. “I always need you, sissy,” she agreed. “But I’m just a FaceTime or text away,” she assured you, combing her hands through your wet hair, having taken a shower while she’d been gone saying her goodbyes to Josh. “I’m here. And you have people here. You just need to let. them. in.”

“I know. . .,” you sighed hotly into her natural curls. “I’m just so scared to tell Jo–.”

“I’m tired of hearing that, babe,” she asserted firmly. “Because the last person you need to be scared to tell is Joshua,” she stated, leaving no room for argument, right in your ear. “And if you think about it, you know him well enough to fucking know that. So get out of your maze of thoughts and know the truth.”

She was right. . . Truly, you knew she was. You knew his heart. But. . . “How will I even. . .?” 

Pulling away from you, she kept her hands wrapped around your forearms, keeping a caring hold on you. Keeping you near. “I’ve actually been thinking about this, like, all day. . . but the first thing that came to my mind is what I keep going back to.”

You waited for more, but she didn’t continue her thought. Impatient, you asked. “Which is. . .?”

“Invite him to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe your. . .first?” she offered, questioning the last part. But sounded completely sure of her idea. “It’s the perfect way to break it to him. And. . .if I’m correct, I’m assuming you haven’t had one yet since you just decided to keep it?”

“Yeah. . . no appointment yet. So, I could. . .ugh,” you answered. “But– why? How–? Will he–?”

“It’s the ideal situation because he will feel like he’s being helpful and loving. He’ll be able to be there for you. He’ll feel needed and involved and that is literally all Josh wants in general in life, so. . .”

“It’s perfect,” you weakly agreed. It really was. You couldn’t deny it.

“Yes, it is,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her duffel bag back over her shoulder. “I came up with it.”

You scoffed. “Okay, now. Don’t get a big fuckin’ head, loser.”

“Bitch,” she bit back, shoving your shoulder. 

Rubbing your shoulder in faux pain, you gave her a pitiful expression. “Elsie. I am with child, you need to be careful with me now.”

Bursting with a chuckle, straight from her chest, she shoved your other shoulder. “I’m not touching the damn stomach, so I’m good.” 

You shoved her back, dropping the act and giggling with her. “You right, you right,” you said. Then, your thoughts came back to the task at hand. The baby that was squirming around in you. “I’m still scared.”

“That’s another perfect aspect of telling him in that scenario though,” she added, assuring you with her opinion. “You can’t back out. You’ll have to tell him if he meets you at the doctor’s office or takes you there or whatever the hell he does. . . you’ll have no choice but to tell him before you go in. And he’ll just have to take it,” she said, her plan sounding, admittedly, concrete. “He will survive,” she dropped her hands from your arms and looped her belt bag around her chest before placing a hand delicately to your cheek. “I promise he’ll survive.”

Just then, her phone dinged, indicating her Uber had arrived. So, with many “I love you’s” and a few curse words, you were following her down the stairs, then hugging her tightly once more outside of her awaiting Uber. 

And as you watched her leave the parking lot, the tears started to flow. So. many. tears. Steady, hard, relentless weeping. . . 

The emotions were obviously true, yes, but the hormones–and your current, lonely headspace– were amplifying the already-existing emotions of her leaving to an incredibly irritating degree.

But before you could lose yourself in them any more, you heard a door to a car shut to your left, along with a laugh you knew all too well. Jake was home. 

And if you didn’t move, he was going to see you as a hysterical mess and you did not want his fucking pity right now. Last thing you needed. And worse, you also didn’t want to see his expression, for the chance it might be hard and uncaring. You also didn’t want to possibly see a certain woman arrive with him. 

You were sure she was with him. The feminine giggle you heard accompanying his endearing chuckles could be no one else.

So, instead of looking in his direction, you turned quickly on your heel and speed-walked up the stairs, a hand on your tummy to avoid any hurt to the kumquat baby. 

As soon as your back hit the closed door, you breathed a sigh, which turned into a long yawn. The kind that made you shiver with a sudden, urgent desire to sleep. You didn’t have to work today, you’d canceled study plans. . . So suddenly, you felt abundantly free and a nap sounded like the perfect remedy to the overwhelming emotions of your day.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Monday came and went before you even knew it was happening. As did Tuesday. As did Wednesday. And when Thursday came around, you had your Modern Poetry elective. The one class you had with someone you knew relatively well. 

You hadn’t made it a priority to make tons of friends while in school to get your degree–you’d had Josh and Elsie, and eventually Sammy and Danny. . .and that had been enough. 

But, when Theo had popped back up into your life, anytime you saw him in a class, it really did feel nice to be around someone familiar at school. Even though he was on the more annoying side, he was still a good confidant.

And especially with the massive course load this semester, having someone you knew around was helpful. Good for feeling less alone. He was somebody who was going through school with you; he got the overwhelming amount of pressure from school, too. He felt the senioritis, too. . . but, his case was slightly different. 

He was ready to be done with school so he could pursue this career he longed to have in writing, while you were just ready to be done. 

Initially, when you had started the semester, you were just ready to be out of Pratt because you felt like you were wasting your time on a degree you’d lost passion for (save for your minor in media studies which gave you the occasional music-related course).

Now you weren’t sure why you were ready to be done. What made you feel more anxious to put Pratt in the past now? Was it the burning desire to be done with a passionless major? Or did the life in your tummy have something to do with it? The thought of the baby you held inside honestly got your blood pumping more excitedly in your veins than a college degree ever could. 

You really only cared about ascertaining a healthy baby– no longer caring much for a piece of paper saying you had studied writing, uselessly, for four long years. 

But you had to make it through school. If not for you, for your baby. You didn’t have much longer left, and you owed it to that child to see this through. You had to find some drive though. So, in came Theo to help with that. He was great at encouraging others, and that was exactly what you needed while trudging through the sixteen hours of classes you’d enrolled in this semester. 

When you were getting up to leave for class that afternoon, you had your mind set on a big jar of baby pickles (stereotypical pregnant woman, much?). You were ready to get off campus and to the nearest grocery store for the deliciously tangy food. 

Before you could leave your two-person table, though, a hand came out to grab your arm as a way of stopping you. If you had acted on impulse, you would have whined and stomped your foot in protest at being kept from satisfying your pickle craving. 

But you didn’t act like a petulant child. Instead, you turned around, eyes opened and ready for whatever was needed from you. 

And when you looked behind your shoulder, Theo was there, a head or so above you, smiling and waiting for a response. 

“Yes?” You asked, semi-irritatedly, semi-sweetly. “What’s up?”

He just stared a little while longer, blinking rapidly before shaking his head. His blonde hair had grown out a bit and shook with the movement, eyes twinkling just enough, making your heart thump a little harder in your chest. 

Why in the hell? 

“I meant to ask you Tuesday, but you were gone before I could,” he started, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder. He shifted on his feet a little before peering curiously into your eyes. “Are you okay? I missed seeing you for our usual Sunday study time. . .”

You swallowed, slightly grumpy that he felt the need to pry. 

He’s just showing he cares, y/n, the angelic voice said, which now stopped by more occasionally than the negative one. 

Not wanting to tell him anything too personal (God, no), you went with the bare minimum. “A friend hosted a Halloween party at my place on Saturday, and my sister was actually in town for it,” you divulged, wrapping your fists tighter around the straps of your backpack. Please let me leave after this. “So I hung out with her yesterday while she was still in town.”

Not the whole truth, but not so much dishonesty to  me feel bad.

“Oh!” He said, a light hearted laugh accompanying his tone. “Cool. I remember from high school how close you two were.”

I remember how much she didn’t like you, you thought, feeling uneasy at past-Elsie’s opinion of the guy.

Was he really that bad though? He’d been great for you during high school. Even though it had only been a year of time with him, he had still been a decent person to have around during those formative years of your life. He had been considerate, kind, helpful. . . the only negative things you could remember were the few times he’d try to get you to calm down on unnecessary occasions. He could be occasionally judgmental, but wasn’t everyone to an extent?

And maybe you and Elsie had only been your average, overly sensitive high school girls and had thought he was worse than he actually was.

Because at this moment, all you could see were the green flecks in his blue eyes and how they caught the sun that shone in from the window behind you, and onto his pale face. The way he waited earnestly to hear your response made you feel special and valuable to him at this moment and what woman didn’t like that?

“Yeah,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear before folding your hands over your chest. Aaand, wincing, you quickly moved them away. Your boobs were especially tender with the extra pressure against them. Every day they seemed to get more sensitive to the touch, feeling heavier–fuller. “We’re still that close. Probably closer now, actually. After living together, and then her job forcing her to be far away often. . .,” you trailed off, sad at the thought of her being so far away all the damn time. “We’re forced to communicate way more than we ever have before.”

He nodded, winking at you. And although he was cute, you didn’t feel anything at the wink, really. It didn’t swirl your tummy with nerves like it would with someone. . .else. You chalked it up to the craving that was still distracting you, making your tummy growl. 

He cleared his throat before he tucked one hand in a jeans pocket and one tighter around the strap of his bag. “Intentional is the word,” he added with another wink, seeming to understand to a degree. But you caught the aggravating ‘know-it-all’ attitude. Tipping his head, he looked at you with smiling eyes. “You okay?” He motioned with his hand at your neck-chest region.

Your brow furrowed, confused. Defenses were instantly raised and you took a step back, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “Yes?” You retorted, tilting your head to challenge him. “Why?”

“Just saw you flinch and all,” he said, in wonder at your tone. When he spoke next, he no longer seemed understanding, only misunderstanding. “Nothing big. Don’t worry,” he held his hands out, as if calming a tiger. 

You felt stupid for overreacting, so you covered your tracks with a forced giggle, masking the situation the best you could with a straight-up (ironic) lie. “Just a certain time of the month,” you explained extremely falsely. “Overly reactive to everything right now.” That was true. 

“Oh,” he pointed a finger at you, pretending to get it. “Makes sense.”

Okay, you thought, squinting at him as he looked to the side with a sort of confidence. Maybe Elsie had been onto something. . . 

But then he peered down at you again with his sparkly eyes and shaggy, naturally blonde hair.  It made you feel a little weak for the guy, even with him irritating you.

But why was he irritating you, exactly? Maybe your emotions were controlling you a little too much– getting too easily offended thanks to the hormones. . . Perhaps he was just acting like a normal human, while you were the one who wasn't reacting like a normal human.

Your stomach was fucking growling though. . .Theo didn’t matter worth fuck at that moment. What did matter was how badly your body was craving eating for two. If you didn’t eat soon, you were afraid you would faint from lack of sustenance (you definitely wouldn’t, but there were the over-reactive feelings again). 

You started backing up, and made it just next to the table when you were saying your next words. “I’m going to go ahead and get out of her–.”

“Wait!”

Having just turned on your heel, your face was hidden from view, and you were able to roll your eyes when you heard him. You weren’t going to stop though. He could follow you to the parking lot. You were hungry and grouchy and ready to eat an entire jar of pickles before crashing hard against your sheets. Before you had to show up at the B&G for the evening shift.

“Follow me,” you said, short, only looking over your shoulder at him briefly before continuing your trek. But please don’t talk for long. 

You were just outside North Hall when you decided to stop, so you wouldn’t have to fear him stalling you at your car.

“What’s up?” You asked, playing cool despite your desire to grumble. 

“I actually– I just thought–,” he laughed, seemingly at himself. He scratched behind his ear. Then he stood up straight, determined after tucking both hands into his front pockets and clearing his throat for the second time that day. You noticed his jeans, dark wash, skinny, and complimenting his firm thighs. “I wanted to ask you to hang out with me sometime– outside of here.”

Seriously? He was stopping your pickle eating for this?

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, confused. “We do hang out,” you grasped tightly to the straps of your backpack again, anxious to get food. Already tired of him. “Every Sunday.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, pausing. Then he grinned in a way you assumed he thought was cute. But all it really did was make your eyes hurt from the inability to roll, out of courtesy for him. He continued, taking a step closer. Your hands did start perspiring and your heart sped up positively at his proximity. “But I thought maybe we could do something not related to school?”

You opened your mouth to reject it–you were not interested. For many reasons. The biggest being the baby in your belly. . .

Although, the more you pondered the baby, you realized more than that, you were hesitant because of his or her father.

Not the child, but Jake. The man that was ever-present in your mind– with his beautiful, brunette hair, eyes the color of understanding, easing you in the most complex situations. . . and the heart that’d made the world suddenly make sense. . . (Which still scared the hell out of you, by the way.)

But. . .as the thoughts spiraled, it all started to have the opposite effect. Made you want to agree.

So, you did.

You said yes to hanging out with Theo. Because, as soon as that thought process had started derailing, you knew it was best to agree. The idea of hanging out with him seemed like a great distraction from Jake. A much needed one.

What you had with Jake was nothing and it was in the past. For a reason. 

After you watched him smile wide and say he’d text you, he went to join a heap of Pratt’s fraternity boys. You could only hope that maybe getting out there and hanging out with someone else would get your mind off of Jake. 

You did not want it going further than a few dates with Theo. Just a little time with Theo would surely be all it took to get your headspace cleared and make it easier to navigate life. 

The repercussions to its ending were literally nothing. You’d switch seats in class and force yourself through school with the occasional encouragement from Elsie. Theo was not a necessary addition to your life long-term, but you figured he could help you short-term, while also creating long lasting benefits.

Surely you could divert your thoughts from Jake. Think of the child first, and put its father on the backburner as you weaved through this next chapter in your life. . . No matter how badly you wanted him with you through all of it, experiencing it all first hand with you, it was the wiser decision to keep things separate. 

And, as an additional help, Theo would make it obvious to Jake that you were willing to keep your life separate. 

So, when you did eventually tell Jake (dear fucking God), there would be an additional party that emphasized you’d moved on and all that mattered now was the baby. 

Not the two of you. That ship needed to sail. 

Even though the thought made your stomach hurt like hell and tears well in your eyes as you pulled into the nearest Trader Joe’s for pickles. . . you knew it was the truth.

-🌼🌼🌼-

That evening, you took a longer route to work, choosing to listen to a podcast you’d found. 

Having listened to the first episode on the way to school that morning, you decided to fill your cup with another episode on the way to work. 

It was a magnificent podcast that was all about the ‘ins and outs’ of pregnancy, being a new mother, and how to grow mentally and emotionally during such a unique time.

The second episode was going just as well as the first until you heard one of the moderators’ voices get low and forlorn. 

“You know ladies. . . the first time I got pregnant is planted firmer in my memory than any of my other pregnancies,” she said, sighing heavily. 

“Oh, yeah, Jen,” another moderator said, voice growing dim with Jen’s, apparently (you were still getting accustomed to their names). “I bet, babe. . . The ones that are lost are the ones that stick so close it fuckin’ hurts and heals at the same time. . .”

“Agreed, Tally,” the third—and last—speaker on the podcast chimed in. “I’ll touch on my story after Jen.” 

“Thanks, Molly,” Jen’s voice rang through your speakers again. “Yeah, it’s just a different feeling when they’re there and then suddenly they’re not. . . When you imagine holding them in your arms for God knows how long and then it suddenly becomes impossible to do so,” Jen sniffed, and just as she did, you felt a tear hit your own cheek. God, you were hurting with her. “Every woman is different, but I just hang onto my loss like nothing else. And not necessarily in a bad way— just in an attempt to sort of keep the baby here with me— Give her the life she never got to fully live.”

Dammit, the tears wouldn’t let up. They were trailing down your cheeks steadily. When you got to the next stop light, you had to grab a napkin from your glovebox to blot at your cheeks, already marked with black streaks of mascara. Thankfully you could still wipe them up easily, not dried to your skin quite yet. But you knew the crying wouldn’t be letting up soon. Your emotions had been triggered and you would be seeing this sadness through. (Hello, pregnancy hormones.) 

You took turns holding the napkin under each eye, making sure to catch the tears as they continued. 

“I’m right there with you, Jenny,” a voice you now recognized as Molly’s said. “Even though my stories are a little different.”

Stories? 

God. You kept your eyes on the road as you popped open the glovebox once more, grabbing a fistful of left-over restaurant napkins. 

Sitting them on top of your legging-clad thighs, right where you could reach them, you took a right turn towards the B&G. 

“I’m sure we have listeners who will relate to all of these stories,” Tally interjected, sniffing. “Both of you girls.”

“I hope we’re able to help someone,” Jen responded, voice still thick, but not so bad as before. 

You heard a sigh before Molly started speaking again. “The first time I carried was very similar to Jenny’s. Lost the baby. Early on. The worst loss I’ve ever experienced—I will never understand why we lose them,” her voice shook with sadness. But, it soon transitioned to a hot flash of irate frustration when she spoke next. “I will also never understand the people who invalidate our experiences just because they were lost in the womb or lost as little tiny babies. . . Just because they weren’t full grown people, outside of the womb, when it happened. . . doesn’t make it hurt any less. You have just as much to mourn for the life they completely lost.” And just as soon as she was firm, her voice was soft again. “The life we lost before it was time.”

The other two agreed, voices low out of respect for the moment. 

“Then there was my second. . .,” she blew out a breath, as if preparing. She gave a half-laugh. “Strange occurrence. . .”

“But it happens!” One of the other two chimed in. 

“Sure as hell does,” Molly said. “The second time I carried, I had a hysterical pregnancy– a case that only 6 women in 22,000 experience. . .”

“I can’t imagine. . .,” Tally breathed a sigh out. “Your body, tricking you like that.”

“Yeah, and it felt completely real– like everything you’d expect,” she replied, thoughtful. “Like everything I experienced with the one I’d lost before. . . And, God, it was so incredibly hard to get through once I found out what my body had done to me. . . I just wanted a healthy baby–especially after the loss. I was still hurting badly from losing the first when it happened. Almost like my body was playing tricks on me just to see how far I could stretch mentally and emotionally,” she laughed under her breath, in spite of it all. 

“So fucking cruel, babe. . .”

But you weren’t focusing hard enough to know who was talking anymore. You’d caught on to the stories they’d told and now you were over analyzing your situation. . . Questioning everything. . . Was this real? Was there a baby there? Were you having a hysterical pregnancy? Was your body playing tricks on you? 

Or, had you been pregnant, and had now lost the baby like those women had? Were you still carrying the life you’d started planning around? The little life you were becoming more and more attached to by the day?

Had you ever been carrying it? 

As you pulled into work, you put one shaking hand on your rounded lower belly.

- 🌼🌼🌼-

Suffice to say, your entire evening shift was spent in over-contemplation and searching miscarriages, hysterical pregnancies, and semi-local OBGYN’s during the lull of customers. 

As you’d searched online for a clinic, you were not looking for places too close, as you didn’t want God and everybody seeing you enter the clinic on a regular basis (if you, in fact, were to find out you were carrying a tiny little bean-baby). You sure as hell didn’t need anyone to start questioning you before you were ready to offer up answers. 

Once you finally left your longest shift ever, you drove home in deep thought and drowning silence. 

Your research over miscarriages and hysterical pregnancies had done you very little good. They’d actually done you no good at all, if you were being honest. Everything you’d read made you question a lot.

Because, everything that could possibly reassure you was also possible in a hysterical pregnancy or a miscarriage.

One: your growing tummy (which could continue growing in both of the sad, unwanted instances). Two: your hurting breasts (which could still hurt in both sad, unwanted instances). And three: your nausea (which could still occur in both sad, unwanted instances).

Once at home, you took a hot second getting ready for bed— lost in thought, you decided to try to tiring yourself with a bath, complete with lavender scented bath salts and bubbles. Once you were finally in bed, cozy in your softest pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, you tried so hard to force yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to have to wait any longer to call the nice little clinic you’d found. 

And you sure as hell weren’t hungry. Didn’t want to eat with your stomach spinning with so many nerves.

And, the sooner you fell asleep, the sooner you could call the clinic and schedule an appointment. 

- 🌼🌼🌼-

But, after laying there for what felt like hours– the sounds of calming ocean waves playing through your phone and everything– you were still awake. 

You were drowning in all of the thoughts. Drown-ing. 

One that was flashing brightly at the front of your mind was why you even cared so much. And, the more you thought about it, tossing and turning, you realized you’d found the most unique, fulfilling form of reassurance in carrying the child. You wanted this baby. It had happened without you even meaning it to. . . but you wanted this baby so. fucking. badly. You’d tried damn hard not to want the little thing, but now that you’d spent so much time pondering it and holding your tummy? There was no question about any of it. You just wanted your baby and you couldn’t figure out how to explain it.

After rolling around far too much in bed, you realized you still hadn’t heard the telling sounds of Jake coming home. So, you decided to venture out into the living room to let a TV show distract you. Hopefully distract you enough to go to sleep. Pillow, Stanley, and phone in hand, you grabbed the fluffiest blanket from your blanket basket and nestled into your couch. 

Just as you’d turned the TV to Friends–wanting to feel closer to Elsie, but not feeling brave enough to talk to her whilst already being so emotional–, you heard the sound of a key jingling in the locked doorknob. And then the door was opening and you were looking behind you at the sound— for God knows what reason.

Then he was all you saw.

Jake.

Clad in the most handsome black, felt peacoat, the top of his head hidden by a black beanie. . . the chilly evening’s attire suited him so well that it brought a ridiculous tear to your eye. 

So devastatingly handsome and not at all mine, your thoughts became enveloped with storm clouds.

Thankfully he didn’t see you staring, as he seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact as he went about setting his keys in the bowl and taking his coat off to hang it on the rack by the door. And, as his actions cemented your thoughts, your eyes became wetter, a tear falling down your cheek for this stupid ass, cruel reality that you’d created. Even if you had done it for a good reason—and you had—it still sucked big ass. 

But, just as soon as your eyes were growing teary, your heart was beating erratically in your chest. The sight of the soft, tanned skin between the opened lapels of his shirt— exposed after taking off the coat. And the silver necklaces that clanged against his bare chest were the same he’d worn for Halloween. . . Your mouth watered as you observed the way they fell between his pecs which rose and fell with balanced breaths. . . 

Seriously, fuck these hormones.

Before you could get lost in the roundness of his ass through his jeans, he turned to the counter once more. You flipped back to your original spot on the couch. You decided to 

feign any knowledge of him being home, curling into a little ball on the couch and closing your eyes to fake sleep. 

When you heard him make a stop at his bedroom and then heard the bathroom door click shut, you stayed wrapped in your cocoon on the couch. And before too long, you felt yourself fading to black, one final tear slipping past your closed lids as Rachel and Ross argued over being on a break.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Initially, you weren’t sure what it was that brought you back from such a deep slumber. But, once you heard him, you knew. The deep, raspy laugh that was slightly muffled through you gaining consciousness. 

Why was he in the living room? Was he? Was this your imagination? A taunting dream?

You cracked an eye open the slightest bit to allow some adjustment to the light you’d shut your eyes to. But. . . There was no overhead light. It was off. The room would’ve been pitch black, save for your standing lamp’s yellow glow and the blue light from your TV. 

More importantly, the warning feeling of a crick in your neck was suddenly catching your attention. So, without worrying about your company, you quickly sat up to attempt getting more comfortable. You didn’t want to feel awkward around him, but you also didn’t want to deal with a hitch in your neck or a migraine in the morning. 

The loud yawn that escaped you once you’d sat up couldn’t be helped. You were slightly embarrassed at the obnoxiously loud noise that emitted from your mouth as you stretched. Blushing, you glanced over at your fellow living room occupant to see if he’d even noticed. 

And, of course, he had. 

He was staring at you—but. . . not judgmentally. Not at all. In fact, his eyes held the natural, reassuring lightness that occupied your sweetest recent memories. And the small grin on his face. . . was shocking, to say the least. 

Why was he acting so okay with you? He’d been so distant recently. . .

You knit your eyebrows together, hyper aware of his presence and needing answers as to why he had decided to sit next to you. 

“What are you doing here?” You clipped, tone sharp. You brought your blanket all the way up to your chin and around your shoulders, as a way to protect yourself from the (obviously) harmless man. 

Although, you instantly regretted it as his expression became apprehensive rather than open like seconds before. 

Why do you have to go and ruin everything, y/n? 

He leaned back, his eyebrows furrowed as he balanced a bowl of (. . . macaroni and cheese? Fuck, that looked good.) on his knee, holding onto it with one hand. “I live here, y/n.”

And yet another memory was flashing back to you from the night you got high. . . his breath, hot on your neck, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he said similar words then– your skin flaming now, too. Just the sound of his voice could elicit the most from you. Fuck your pregnant feelings.

Or were they just feelings? The fear came rushing back the moment you thought yourself pregnant. . . was there a baby in there? God, fuck. . . you really didn’t want to sit in this train of thought again. 

You figured you might as well use your company to distract you. . . .You missed talking to him anyways–missed it so damn bad. 

But your tummy interrupted you. The growl that emitted from it was fucking humiliating, honestly, but it had happened. And after eyeing you curiously for a minute, Jake’s lips turned up with a one breathy laugh, his beautiful pearly whites on full display. God, he was handsome.

“You hungry?” He questioned, lifting his mac and cheese. “I made more of this. It’s just the shit Kraft, but it still hits the spot.”

Nodding, you went to hesitantly get up to get some. You really didn’t want to move from under the security of your warm, cozy blanket. 

“No, just wait here,” he insisted, standing. His pajama pants were your favorites (the ones he didn’t normally wear underwear with). But you did not watch his crotch for movement. Your eyes were just staring at the wrong place at the wrong time. Really. “I have to wash my bowl anyway. I’ll put the rest in a bowl for you while I’m up.” 

Again, why was he being so fucking nice? But you weren’t about to disagree. You were comfy and hungry and he was offering. It felt like old times and you felt like being momentarily delusional.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed, your eyes shifted, unsure to his face. But he was moving before you could look at him. Back to the kitchen. After a few moments, he was back, handing you a little white bowl with a spoon. The scrumptious, cheesy noodles made your eyes light up. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, responding as though elsewhere. This was weird and you hated how it all felt. But he kept talking, filling the air as he sat a beer on the end table beside him, before sitting back down in the chair. “I had to get a beer anyway. Long day with the guys and May–,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shutting briefly as he shook his head.

Fuck. Thanks, Jake, you thought, your eyes on the verge of welling with tears. The moments of silence, hanging in the air, closing in around you. Not fucking now, hormones.

All you wanted to do was ask why it had been a long day. Get more information that might hurt you. Why did you do that to yourself? 

Though, before you could say anything, he continued. Awkwardly, his eyes flashing momentarily to the TV to reset as he spoke. “Long day. I should’ve asked if you wanted one.”

Your cheeks heated. . . little did he know. “I’m good,” you mumbled, looking down at your bowl. Stomach sinking with your thoughts from earlier, you decided to eat before you lost your appetite again. Not the time to be sad. “Thanks though.”

The next few minutes went by in a silence you wanted to stab with a fucking knife. It was seriously unpleasant and sucked ass. After you both laughed at a certain thing Joey said, you figured you might as well try to keep some sort of conversation going. Because, god, you missed him. 

“I meant in here, by the way,” you motioned with your head to the space around you, mouth full. (Ladylike.) 

His brow raised as he looked from the screen to you, setting his gaze on you. “What are you–?”

“My question. Why you were here,” you embarrassingly restated, hearing how it must’ve sounded. “In the living room. With me. Why you were in here, in the living room, with me, of all places.”

He sat further back, but this time going to sit in the armchair comfortably. His feet propped up on the ottoman across from him. “Well,” he covered his mouth, coughing briefly into his fist. “To be fair– you were sleeping when I came to sit down in here.” 

Rather than being unnecessarily hurt over him only wanting to be in the same room as a sleeping version of you, you let yourself give in to the temptation and take advantage of him being distracted by his next task. You missed everything about him. . . even such a simple thing as watching him move.

Pathetic. And, because your mind hated you, it felt like you were watching him move in slow motion.

You watched in a daze as he leaned over to the tall lamp’s attached table, his self-cut gray t-shirt rising up at his hips to show his firm abdomen flex with the stretch. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to watch someone reach for a fucking beer bottle. But, the sight that greeted you next was worse than seeing his side peeking from his shirt. What you saw next were his full, pink lips, wrapping just right around the glass top of his beer bottle as he took a generous sip of his Miller Lite. You admired, mouth open as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each gulp of the beer. 

But when he went to repeat his action of leaning over the chair to set the bottle back, you decided to look away so as to save yourself from the torture (or, from the possibility of being caught). You took a bite of the mac and cheese, growing cold in your bowl.

Your heart was already hammering much too erratically from glimpsing these ridiculously mundane motions. . . fuck it all. The heat from being so near to him and watching him settled from your head all the way to the pit of your tummy. You swallowed down your bite thickly.

Your tummy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, awkwardly – you just wanted to have a conversation to get your mind off things. Problem was, you didn’t know where to necessarily start with him these days. . . Work? The band? Maya? God, no. . . gag.

Lucky for you, he took the initiative before you had much longer to overthink it. “I’m glad you woke up, though.” He pulled at his plaid pajama bottoms as he scooted up again, going back to get comfortable on the ottoman. Sitting with his legs spread (dammit), he balanced his elbows on his knees as he reached for his phone in his pocket. “I actually wanted to run something past you.”

God, please don’t say you found a place and you’re moving out. . . you thought, suddenly downcast and dreading what he was about to say. Or that you’re moving out to live with her.

You swallowed the thickness in your throat, trying to alleviate the unwarranted nerves before responding. Dispelling them with food, you took one more bite before swallowing it to talk. “And what’s that?” 

So what if he wanted to move out? He damn well could. He surely had the money and you two weren’t involved. 

He scrolled for a few more moments, your heart thump-thump-thumping without relenting. . . And finally, he found what he was looking for and before you had time to prepare, his eyes were sinking into yours earnestly. 

God. . . what is he about to sa–?

“I found a place for you to get therapy,” he stated, tone soft and careful. 

Therapy? Safe to say you were not expecting those words. 

And rather than being nervous, your emotions shifted to defensiveness. Where did he get off looking into that for you? Why was he . . .? Was he talking about the promise he’d made in his bed? That same night you’d panicked at your grandparents’? He’d remembered to do that? Why did he even care, still? You didn’t deserve for him to care– didn’t want him to care. It felt uncomfortable. 

“Why?” You sharply asked, holding your bowl in stiff hands on your lap. 

He leveled you with a look that said ‘cut it out.’ Did he really know where your thoughts were trailing? Was he still that in tune with you? Surely not. He was probably just irritated with your tone of voice. “I told you I would look for you, so I’ve been keeping up my end of the deal. I’ve actually asked a few clients if they knew of any nearby therapists worth their salt,” he peeked back at his phone, scrolling on it when he spoke next. “And there are actually quite a few good ones in the area.”

Your heart still beat harshly in your chest as you felt your skin heat with rage. You set your bowl down on the coffee table. And, the blanket, suddenly suffocating you, was flung off without a thought. “So, what is this? Is this you saying I’m a fucking loony, Jake? I’m sure you’ve been desperate as fucking hell to get me help because you think I’m such a nutcase,” you spit. You sounded dramatic (and, admittedly, like a deranged woman). You knew that. If you were thinking sensibly, you’d know he didn’t believe those things. . . but you were embarrassed that he’d been thinking so hard about this. It hurt your feelings that he thought you needed help that badly. “I’m just so broken and damaged and insane that you’ve decided you need to get a damn shrink to fix me.” Your lap was a sudden magnet for your eyes, your hands entangled on your pajama bottoms. Now, the hot teardrop that hit your interlocked hands was not expected and you swiftly swiped at your cheek. “Thanks for thinking so long and hard and asking God and everybody to find the most qualified person to psychoanalyze the shit out of me,” you sniffled, a couple more tears falling before you willed them away and looked in his eyes. “Thank you so much, Jake.”

But he wasn’t flustered. . . no, he actually sat there and took it. The brow that had raised on his face as you spoke was the only indicator that he’d heard you. 

The emotions you were experiencing were big and uncalled for. . . but, you were stressed. Over a lot of things. Doubting a lot of things. Your life seemed like one humongous question mark and you were sleepy as fuck and it was all just catching the fuck up with you. 

He cleared his throat, glancing once more at his phone before setting it on the arm of the chair. A tiny smirk ghosted briefly over his lips before they were set in a flat line again as he spoke next. His eyes stayed trained on his own hands, now clasped as well. “Y/n. . . Please. You know I don’t fuckin’ think those things,” he tried quietly, slightly testy, but not harsh. Then his irises found yours once more, making your heart rate speed up. You did know that. . . You knew better. He was right. “You agreed to this. I wouldn’t have made a point to look into this if you hadn’t okayed it,” he stretched his hands out and then combed them through his long, chestnut locks. 

His jaw flexed and he eyed you once more, digging into the heart of this before going any deeper. “I don’t want to force it on you. I won’t go any further in this conversation if you don’t want it. This is your decision. You know I looked into therapists. That’s it. You choose where you want this to go and then I’ll either leave you alone or tell you what I found out.”

You felt bit by bit of your current guard break down as you slowly relented. Because, well, you did want to know what he’d found out. Absentmindedly, you glanced down at where you’d subconsciously placed your hands over your stomach. It was habit at this point. That one reason underneath your fingertips was pushing you to know what he’d come to know. If you were, in fact, with child, you were desperate to start therapy. Yeah, sure, you wanted to get help for your sake. . . but more-so the child’s sake. Because, honestly, if you were not with child, you weren’t really sure if you’d want to push yourself to do that– go through all of those intense measures and changes and emotions that you knew only therapy could bring.

There was a ginormous sneaking, sinking suspicion in your gut. The one that was telling you there was a helluva lot more simmering, boiling beneath the surface than you knew. There had to be. For all the blaming you’d put on Jake just now, you knew you were a basket case. And there were some good fucking reasons behind it that you had to get to the bottom of. 

You had to do it for your child. And, on the off chance that your worst fears would come to light and you weren’t actually pregnant, it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear Jake out. Listen to what he’d found. 

You mumbled your next words. “Do you think I need fixing?” Dear God–where had that vulnerability come from? Did you want to know his answer?

Jake brought a thumb and forefinger up to his chin as he scratched it in contemplation, still measuring you with a long look. “I think it’s more complex than that, y/n,” he breathed a sigh out, as if not sure how to say what he was actually thinking. 

And dammit– it hurt for him to not just respond with a simple “no, I don’t think you need fixing.” More complex? What the hell did that even mean? 

“Do you think I’m brok–?”

“No,” he sighed. Then, he had your heart leaping into your throat when, in one swift motion, he was standing and walking the ottoman closer to where you sat on the couch. When he plopped down, he didn’t touch you. . . but the closer proximity was enough. The way your eyes naturally flitted momentarily to where his chest steadily rose and fell. You breathed with him. He spoke his next words with a low rasp, eyes serious as they pored into yours. “You are not broken.”

Your heart fluttered, making its way back to its home in your chest. “Okay,” you muttered. You needed to hear him say that– more than you’d ever be comfortable admitting. Finally, you responded to his prior offer. You knew what you wanted. “Tell me what you found out.”

Jake watched you for a few more seconds before leaning back a little, reaching back to grab his phone from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting in. You averted your sight to your hands this time, not watching his movements. Your hands, which were still nestled nonchalantly on your tummy. 

“So,” he started. Your gaze flickered up to him, a lazy smile fitting to your face. You watched his lips move as he spoke. Honestly, you hated how safe he felt. It wrapped you up cozier than the blanket that’d been around you moments ago. And the sad reality: you couldn’t wrap yourself up in him. You’d have to take what you could get. “I found this place. About 30 minutes from us. It’s a bit of a lengthy drive, but I figured it was worth it. It’s a clinic that’s very well known by many people around here, I’ve found out.”

“Expensive?” 

“Eh. Yeah. Pricier than others,” he clicked his tongue, raised his brow. “But– I asked Josh offhandedly the other day what the insurance was like at the B&G to figure out if it was covered by your–.”

“What do you mean offhandedly?” You nudged, hoping he hadn’t divulged that it was about you. “You didn’t tell him–?”

“No. I just asked him as if I was comparing it to mine at the agency that I teach lessons through,” he reassured. You breathed in relief. He snickered. “I wouldn’t tell him anything about. . .,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from your face to the wall behind your head and then to his phone again. “Anyways. . . they’re covered by your insurance.”

At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter if Josh found out. . . he was about to have a massive bomb dropped on him (by you, of course). But. . . you still didn’t really want him finding anything out from Jake. Didn’t want him hearing anything before you were ready. 

“Cool,” you grinned, trying to ease the tension. He opened his mouth to continue, but you stopped him before he could. “Thank you, by the way. For looking into this.”

He looked surprised and you hated that he seemed that way. You should have been more appreciative to begin with. . . this was such a selfless thing for him to do and you’d reacted by getting defensive and snapping. When that was the last thing he deserved. God, you were awful sometimes. 

He smiled, wide and close-lipped. “Of course. I told you I would.”

You nodded, looking back to your hands, which you’d let move to your lap. Didn’t want him catching on to you holding your stomach. “What’s the next step?”

“Well,” he began, hesitantly. “I called them for a quote and asked about a specific therapist.”

“Why specific?” You questioned, scrunching your brows. 

“That leads into the next part, actually. . .,” he slowly continued, “She’s the only one at their practice that specializes in this unique form of therapy. A type I’ve read and researched on a fuck ton. . . I wanted to find the perfect method for your specific traumatic effects. So, I thought of the dreams. . . how you like control. . . I think it’s the type of therapy you could benefit most from.”

Damn. Way to call you out on your need for control. If anyone knew how much you desired control, though, you figured he did. But. . .now you were even more curious. . . because. . . you were venturing into different types? Wouldn’t just be sitting down with a shrink? What did he have in mind?

“And this type is. . .?”

His eyes light up, excitedly, as if he’s been dying to get to this part. “It’s called EMDR,” he voiced with a tinge of apprehension and elated anticipation. As you mouthed the letters under your breath, he clarified further. “Eye, E. Movement, M. Desensitization, D. And Reprocessing, R.”

You blinked a few times and shook your head. “Okay,” you stated slowly, placing your hands in front of you to indicate he needed to slow down. “What the fuck does all of that mean though?”

“Before I continue, I need you to know: I’ve done a shit ton of research and out of all of it, I’ve become really invested and interested in this type of therapy specifically. . . and for good reason. I’m really hopeful that it will help you,” he emphasized, eyes sincere. 

Your tummy did somersaults at how invested he’d become in all of this . . . but your mind stuttered momentarily at the flutter. You couldn’t help but get lost in the thought of a little bean in there and how you hoped to feel little kicks someday (obviously not yet, Jesus Christ), not just Jake-induced butterflies. God, you hoped there was a little thing in there. . . 

Jake’s steady, soft voice brought you back to the present and to his face that peered down at his phone, reading carefully. “To put it simply: it’s like a form of hypnosis. A way to force you to remember certain things so you can finally move on and heal from them.”

You blanched at that. “I’m going to be hypnotized?” To say you were second guessing this was a massive understatement. This EMDR shit could take a back seat. You were already apprehensive about getting help–even with the traditional approach. “I’m not down for hyp-fucking-nosis. Hell no. And all for the sake of remembering things I don’t really care to remember in the first place? I don’t think so, Jake,” you shook your head, toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your t-shirt. “I’m already taking a hugeass leap by being willing to go to therapy itself. I don’t need the voodoo shit . . . I’ll settle for the traditional approach,” you paused, not wanting to get too far ahead before showing your thanks. “But. . . thank you for–.”

“No, no. Listen,” he said, laying one hand on your knee for a blip of a second, your mind short-circuited at the touch. He damn sure had your attention now. “It’s different. Yes, you’ll remember things. But . . . well. . . Shit, I don’t know how to explain it in my own words. 

“Well, just send me a link and I’ll give it a read and we’ll settle–.”

“Quit,” he sternly said. “Quit saying that you’re going to settle. I don’t want you to settle. I want you to get to the root of this. . . so you can heal. Please. Hear me out,” he pleaded, the hand going back to rest on your knee for a few moments longer than last time before he removed it again. “It's–it’s more than remembering. It’s like— like your mind takes you back to the memory. You’re there all over again, living it a second time.”

“Yeah,” you went to stand up, but he moved with you, showing you he would follow you. So, you stayed put. Dear God, Jacob. “I don’t want to live the shit for a second time. Why the hell would I want to do that?“

“Do you want to fucking heal?” He snapped, his eyes searching yours for any sort of bullshit.

You blinked, “Damn,” you began, a sarcastic, irritated smirk on your face when you shook your head. Could he give you a break, maybe? Shit. But, still, you answered him. And his impatient, waiting eyes. Your answer was a no-brainer for you at this point. “Yes, Jake. I want to fucking heal.”

His jaw flexed as he let out a deep breath, through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. “So, please, y/n. . . just listen to me. Hear me out. You don’t have to do it. I just want you to let me explain it first,” he begged, eyes trained on yours, following every flicker of them. The unsureness you communicated through your gaze was balanced by the overwhelming sureness in his. You nodded for him to continue. He reciprocated the action, continuing with a deep breath in and and a deep breath out. “EMDR allows you to heal by letting you be in charge of your healing. You have the power to leave the situation this time. You’re in control of it now. It’s the past. But you have to face it. . . That’s part of it. . . The cool thing is, though. . . you can control whether you stay or leave a memory; you control how you move on from it.”

Well, goddammit. . . Of course he’d know just what to say to get you to finally listen to him. 

Control. That single word finally flicked the lightbulb on in your stubborn, jaded head. 

You paused heavily in your opposition, taking note of his far too sincere features. Perhaps he truly was just trying to help you, a sentiment that had always felt utterly foreign to you throughout your life. You’d held all of your guards up so high for so indescribably long. It took a lot for you to dare let anyone in aside from your sister (who, if you had to be honest, simply didn’t have a choice being your own flesh and blood. . .And given the fact that she lived it, too). 

But the harsh reality of the matter was, you had let Jake in. Too much. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the moment, you could’ve smirked at the irony of just how much– the possible little life in your tummy, a constant reminder in recent times. And, well, you’d definitely let him in enough that he knew you came with some serious trauma.

You watched him carefully, suddenly beginning to realize that the only reason you’d felt so reluctant to heed his guidance with this bizarre form of therapy. The reason you always doubted him– you couldn’t fathom the fact that he truly wanted to help you. 

But, time and again he seemed to prove you wrong. Even after you’d bitched him out to kingdom come in the kitchen months ago. There was no reason for him to want to help you. But here he was. With his research, his beautiful and honest eyes, the phone that he gripped with purpose with explanation after explanation, as if a lifeline. . .

He cared. Whether you could accept it or not. . .it didn’t change the fact that he actually cared. 

“I’ll go talk to the therapist,” you finally offered, relenting as much as you could at that moment. “I’ll feel it all out after I talk to her about it. . .,” you leveled, feeling fair in that decision. 

And he didn’t question, just shook his head with a lip stuck out. “Yeah, yeah. Totally.”

“How do I schedule the appointment?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next day was spent making strides towards your future. You scheduled the OBGYN appointment as soon as the clinic opened— being as that was the first, major priority. Setting that up had been simple. A date and time. The insurance you’d be using. Then, you’d hung up.

But, as soon as you’d set that up (and felt utter relief at having that panned out), you called the counseling practice Jake had told you about. And, you set up a therapy session with the woman Jake had given you the name of for the day before your first OB appointment. . . 

The counseling appointment was set up for the upcoming Monday. . . For some reason, when you’d been on the phone, scheduling for the nearest date available had seemed like the only logical option. But, it hadn’t been as cut and dry as your scheduling for the doctor’s appointment. There’d been a form. They’d informed you that they would email it for you to fill out with some general information (and a picture) before your first appointment. It was slightly daunting, but not totally unexpected, the more you’d thought about it. It was an understandably reasonable precursor to your first session. Just a few minor things to assist in your therapist knowing the most basic things about you before beginning. 

Doing it before the OB appointment had also seemed like a good idea. Talking to someone about the newfound worries to help you wade through the days to seeing the obstetrician. . . It seemed like a good plan of action. Made you feel more peace for the whole situation, honestly. 

So, that Friday, as you settled into your seat for a stupid ass writing course, you didn’t even care as you felt like other things were on the move. Honestly, at this point, you wanted to say fuck school and your distaste for the major you’d chosen. . . As they didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of it all. Bigger things were about to start happening. 

And you could only hope that what awaited you would be positive. . . Positive bigger things ahead. 

Bigger things that looked like real healing and a baby with Jake’s eyes.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The couch was leather and a little cold, even through your leggings. . . and the small office-room smelled like essential oils. It was reminiscent of a spa without the ambience music. 

The place didn’t need the music, though. . . the oils and general atmosphere were the perfect, calming mixture. . . Well thought out combination of smells and colors to ease the mind. 

But no therapist. Not yet. You’d been led by the secretary into a room where you now sat by yourself. She’d offered tea, coffee, and water, with a large, welcoming smile on her freckled face. You couldn’t refuse the offer, so you’d accepted the option of water. 

It had been in a bottle, and you clutched it tightly, opened only for the tiniest sip as you let your body relax as much as it could, leaning the slightest bit back into the couch. 

And you continued to wait. 

You watched the closed wooden door, your eyes wandering every now and then to the artwork that depicted gardens and fresh flowers. . . Some were beautiful paintings, while others were simple little drawings, or even real flowers, pressed in a glass frame. 

The walls were tinged with a light sage—the color, oddly easing to the mind. 

Then the knob was twisting open, matching the feeling of your nervous tummy. The muscles at the pit of your stomach flexed and flinched at the prospect of the therapist. What was she going to be like? Would she match the cool, relaxing environment of her office? You could only fucking hope. . .

Looking down at your hands to avoid any awkward eye contact, you took note of how badly you needed a manicure. . . damn. 

“Y/n?” A reposeful, gentle voice interrupted your nail critique. You looked up to acknowledge your long-awaited company. . . and man, was she completely different from your last therapist. The first thing you noticed was that she was. . . young. Mid-thirties at the very oldest. She was much younger than your aging counselor from the past. How long had she been doing this? “I’m Gianna. But all of my clients and closest friends call me Gia.”

“Gia,” you tried it out, letting a small smile fit to your face. It was a genuine smile– you were relieved. Without even really knowing her, you already felt so at ease with her. She was one of those people–like Elsie or Josh–who just carried a naturally empathetic, calming air. Made you feel like you were standing in the breeze on a warm spring day. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hair, naturally dark, but dyed beautifully to be a blonde-gray, was up in a styled messy bun. Lips, painted in the most beautiful naturally red tint. . . and the round, wire-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose complimented her soft features so incredibly well. The freckles on her pale face, visible through the circular frames. Her cheeks were tinged with a perfectly rosy blush, and they swelled with your greeting. 

She adjusted her loose, beige overalls over her off-white, long-sleeved mock neck. The overalls were the fabric ones that’d gone viral (which helped you to note how incredibly trendy she was, if you hadn’t already been able to guess that). She inhaled and exhaled easily, her lips quirking even more than before. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” she repeated back to you. “I’m sorry it took me a bit to make my entrance. I like to give my people some time to adjust to the space before they’re bombarded with all of the therapy stuff. It’s an important thing to me.” Then her leg was being bent to balance her white, platform converse on the seat of her pale pink rolling chair. “Before we begin. . . I also need you to know that my office has a completely open door policy. If, at any moment, you start feeling uncomfortable, please let me know and you may leave to take a break, or simply leave the practice to adjust your thoughts before the next session. Won’t charge you for the whole time or anything. . .,” she added the last part, surely as another financially conscientious adult. “I just know that sometimes this shit gets tough–baring all of it and having to get through it. . . it’s rarely easy, and I want to be able to foster a healthy, resting environment for you as you wade through all of it.”

“Wow,” you blinked, your heart warm in your chest as you let yourself sink a little further into the couch, shoulders loosening just a bit. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

Winking, she brought the mug up to her lips that she’d carried in with her. After taking a sip, she sat it on her desk and then wrapped both arms around her bent leg. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me and my profession before we begin?”

You pondered that, always having questions swirling in your head. “Just general things,” you snorted, playing it off. “Stupid, basic shit that I don’t need answered.”

“Nothing is stupid in here, sweets,” she said firmly, her eyes communicating more than the words she’d said. “Sometimes misguided and confused, yes, but never stupid.” She used the foot on the ground to swing the chair from side to side, ever-so-slightly. “Sooo, shoot. Ask anything you’d like–basic or not.”

Blinking at her again, you let your grip on your water bottle ease up. “Oh, um,” you quietly began. You scrambled for the right words. “Well, I guess I was wondering how long you’ve been doing this?”

She giggled. “Oh, sure. . . I’ve been practicing for about five years. Administered EMDR for the past two or so. . .” Her cheeks were still rosy with a gentle smile when she spoke next. “I will ask, though. . . did you not check out the website prior to this?”

Fuck. You hadn’t thought to do that. That was strange. . . usually you’d jump at the chance of looking into anything and everything before diving head first into something. Especially something as serious as a life-changing thing like therapy and the person you’d be inevitably baring your soul to. What in the fuck? Why hadn’t you thought to do that?

“I– um,” you searched her eyes, as if they held your answer. “I didn’t. Which is strange for me.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” she said, grabbing her mug from her desk again. But before taking a sip, she continued. “I just noted on your form that you like having control over the things that transpire in your life. And checking the website to do some solid research seems like just the way to do that.” She took a sip, humming as she took it away from her full lips. “But there’s my thoughts going to crazy places based primarily on black and white principles. And we’re definitely not here to do that,” she shook her body as if shaking it off, putting her leg down and nestling her mug between her hands. “I don’t look at shit in black and white. That’s something that, as your therapist, I need you to know. There’s a lot of healing properties found in the gray.”

You couldn’t explain it, but the last sentence left you feeling this overwhelming sense of hope and understanding. Without even knowing you, she seemed to get the fact that you came with a lot of fuckin’ gray. All kinds of shades of the color. Had you been that transparent on your form? Not able to remember it, you just pushed it to the side as you figured it didn’t really matter. Because even if you had been open on the form, you were about to get much more transparent.

“Thank you,” was all you said, the water bottle held in loose hands as you comfortably crossed your legs. “My life has left me pretty fucking gray, so that’s a relief.”

“There’s beauty in the gray, love,” she noted, leaning forward as if engaging even further in the conversation (as if she wasn’t already remarkably with-it). She held her tea steady in her hands, and you couldn’t help but look down at the mug to see what it looked like. And, of course, it was covered in pale flowers, just like her office. “I’m down for any more questions you may have.”

“Family?”

“Just a fiancé, but other than her, I’m pretty estranged from much more family. Boundaries are a specialty of mine, and I’ve had to set a few in my life,” she said, assured and confident. “No kids yet. We aren’t quite sure if we want them or not.”

You nodded. But, you were not able to hold back the wetness that gathered in your eyes. The tears settled at your ducts and if you blinked, you knew they’d fall. The way you were feeling at the moment was unexplainable. So many things at once. But, most importantly, you were thankful. Thankful for people like Gia. The woman exuded peace and you weren’t sure why you’d ever questioned trying therapy again when there were women like her in this profession. 

“Thank you,” you said again, as if you were a manufactured robot. Then you shook your head, embarrassed at your currently tiny vocabulary. “I’m sorry I keep saying that. I’m just grateful there’s people like you in this world.”

Wow. Okay. So we’re getting real honest and sentimental now, huh? A good-humored voice asked you. Here for it.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said quietly, respecting the new emotions in the room. “Are you ready to tell me a bit about you?”

Letting the tears fall with a blink, you wiped at them with a breathy laugh. She grabbed the nearest tissue box and handed it to you. You wiped under your eyes and dabbed at your cheeks. “Chose to not wear makeup for a reason,” you chuckled, internally thanking past-you. She laughed with you, placing the Kleenex on the couch next to you for proper access, then sat back, balancing her elbows on her thighs as she held her face up with open palms. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said once you’d settled. “We’ve got the next hour and a half.”

“How much do you wanna know?” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed your locked hands over your tummy. “I’m a basket case.”

Her eyes sparkled. “As much as you’re willing to tell me,” she affirmed with a wink behind her glasses. “I’m all ears.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, as you left that day, you were absolutely confident in saying Gia knew about as much of your life as Elsie did. And that was saying something.

She’d just been so receptive, and had kept encouraging you– as you cried and laughed and sighed and growled. She kept reminding you that she wanted to ‘hear as much as you’d give her’. That she was ‘in your corner’ and that she was ‘there for you.’ And her words and kind eyes were enough to spur you on. Continue to the point of her knowing nearly everything there was to know about your life. 

From your childhood to now, Gia was now totally knowledgeable in the realm of Y/n. 

Thankfully, there’d been no EMDR, as she informed you that next session you’d begin talking about the intricacies of the practice and whether or not you wanted to begin with it the session after your next. She wanted to take time to adjust and ‘simply be’ before introducing the innovative method of therapy.

She’d given a couple of tidbits about it, just for you to think about before the next session, but not too much, since the next session was dedicated to her actually breaking it down for you. 

“Now, before you leave, I want you to know that we can locate your safe place next time. The place in your mind where you’ll return when you need a breath of fresh air amidst the memories,” she’d offered, hands in her pockets, tea cup abandoned as you stood up alongside her to follow her out of the office. But before you two left the office space, she took the time to assure you once more. “But only if that is what you decide you want. This is your life, sweets, and I’m just here to help you through it.”

And, for the eighty-millionth time that day, you’d told her ‘thank you.’ You were going to take a bit of time to consider it. 

She’d also given you a few nuggets of wisdom. 

They’d specifically followed the end of your session, when you’d broken down about the unsureness of your pregnancy (but easily applied to the rest of your messy ass life). 

One thing she said to do: “Slow down your thoughts. Do not let them take control. Slow them down and figure them out with what you know. Piece by piece, break them down before they get too astronomically crazy.”

Another being: “Let yourself feel peace. Just every once in a while, let yourself feel it and don’t let guilt eat you alive for it.” (When you’d laughed sarcastically, she’d nodded, agreeing that it was “most definitely easier said than done.”)

She had been wonderful at assuring you that it was most definitely a product of your trauma to react so preposterously. How you thought certain decisions and thoughts might give you peace, yet always resulted in the opposite. But, she’d also told you that you’d “figure it out bit by bit” as you move along and to “give yourself grace” as you navigate it all on your own, in your day-to-day life.

But, there was one singular, specific piece of advice she’d offered that was sticking out more than much else. 

Of course, you’d filled her in all the way up to your appointment tomorrow and Elsie’s idea for Josh to attend with you. You wanted her opinion on it, asking for as much, and she’d been firm in her opinion. Her words rang in your head as you navigated the late afternoon New York traffic on your way back home.

“Your sister is a genius,” she’d said astonishingly, blowing out a breath from between her naturally full lips. “Everything she said is exactly what I’d tell you, too, sweets. And if it helps to hear this, even as an outside party, Josh sounds like the type of person to receive it in a non-traumatizing manner. He will, most definitely, be sensitive to your feelings. And, having him there will help you feel less alone and calm in your worries. . . and it will help him feel needed–like Elsie said. So, truly, it’s a win-win. If I had my way, I’d make sure Josh is there tomorrow. But, again, it’s your life and it’s up to you.”

“How do I even ask, though?” You asked pathetically, pulling your sleeves down over your hands as you began to get nervous at the prospect. 

“Take a deep breath,” she calmly recited (as she’d done a time or two during your life lament). After doing it with you, she settled you with an understanding gaze. “Just text him. Tell him you have an important appointment tomorrow and that you need him there with you.”

“And if he asks what it’s for?”

“I’d say you tell him that you’ll tell him when you see him or when you get there,” she advised. “But, I don’t think he’s the type of person to question when you’re being vulnerable like that. I’d bet you he just agrees to it, no questions asked– if he’s free, that is,” she winked. 

So, with her sitting there, you’d texted him and asked exactly what she’d told you to. The thing about having an “important appointment.”

And even though he hadn’t responded, you tried to not overthink it as you calmed down from telling your entire life story to your therapist.

When you’d pulled into the apartment complex, your stomach sank at the sight that greeted you. Your space was awaiting you, but Jake’s, next to yours, was empty. Per usual these days, his new purchase of a used car was not at home at the same time as you. Really, you’d gotten used to his lack of presence. But it always made you sadder than you wanted to admit. Because, well, you knew if he wasn’t at the studio or some rehearsal, he was most likely with Maya (you were awfully glad he didn’t bring her around the apartment too much, but still. . .your mind went crazy at the other prospects of what they were doing). 

But today, it was worse. You were sad for more than your assumptions about his whereabouts. Today, you desperately wanted to tell him thank you– wanted to fill him in on how it had gone so great. But he wasn’t there. Because you’d pushed him away (something that Gia told you you’d ‘navigate the reasoning for’).

So, as you trudged up the steps, instead of walking in to tell Jake, you just took time to relax as much as you could. And you figured a good way to do that was to give yourself a long ‘everything shower,’ with your most favorite R&B playlist playing as background noise. 

And when you’d gotten out, the screen that you opened your phone to was something that brought a swarm of anxiously joyous butterflies. Under his name, there was a ‘Yes, of course!’ from Josh. And below his text, was a notification for your next appointment with Gia. One week from today. 

Everything would be okay. It would. You recited this as you responded to him, deciding to try your best not to think of telling him until you absolutely had to tomorrow, after hitting send with a simple ‘thank you :)’.

You kept reciting that everything would ‘be okay’ as you put a hand to the firm little bump, growing steadily at the bottom of your tummy. And you contemplated as much as you were willing to, without reducing yourself to any more tears (you’d cried enough already for one day). Because now all you were going to be plagued with for the next several hours until your OB appointment was whether there was actually a baby in your growing belly. 

You then ate a giant salad (everything else you wanted to eat had made you feel nauseous as hell), as you’d watched Friends. Your thoughts were subdued, but still spiraled a tad. . .though, you took Gia’s advice and tried to slow them down to navigate each one with what you genuinely knew. There was nothing telling you that you weren’t with child besides your own convoluted mess of negative thought. More signs were pointing to that you still were. One piece of truth keeping you going was your growing belly. And even though bellies could still grow after miscarriage or in the case of hysterical pregnancy, the probability of that being your situation was very, very slim. Right?

You knew that. 

Before too long, you were standing in front of your vanity, braiding your wet hair and laying down to find rest much easier than many nights in recent times. . . the only thing that kept you up for a bit longer than you wanted was wondering why Jake hadn’t come home yet.

But, again, you knew it was none of your fucking business.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next afternoon had you waiting outside of your apartment as soon as Josh said he was about five minutes away. Your apartment had started to feel absolutely insufferable, closing in around you as your mind went crazy with scenarios.

The autumn day was lovely, sun shining, but warmer today than it’d been yet this season. With no breeze. And, the lack of breeze was not aiding in your already-sweaty palms, wet with nerves. Or your upset stomach—your current nausea induced by your anxiety more than the (hopeful) baby in your tummy.

Your stomach was fucking rolling as you waited for Josh to pull up to the complex. 

Dramatic as it may have sounded, you felt as if you were on the verge of a heatstroke when he eventually showed up in his little car, which was literally squeaking and creaking as it sat still. The exhaust emitted from the back of the car was enough to make you feel like you were actually going to blow chunks, and you instantly decided you could not ride thirty minutes to the clinic in his little hunk of metal.

Sending a quick text, you made up an excuse to take your car. To emphasize the text, you went ahead and started walking to your Jetta, parked in its usual spot.

You, 11:49 p.m.: I need to get gas… Can we take my car? 

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Of course.

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Are you ready?

You smiled, looking over to where he was still parked in his visitor space. His eyebrows crinkled in concentration to the device in his hand as he watched the screen, waiting for you to respond.

You, 11:51 p.m.: Yes, Joshua. I’m at my car and staring right at you.

As soon as he got the text, you waited for what you knew was coming. He looked up from his phone, through his windshield, and at you with a giant grin painted across his features. It didn’t take him long to get out of his car, lightly jogging as he came over to you. 

“You creep,” he smiled, slightly out of breath. “Peeking through my windows.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach started aching, yet again, at the prospect of what you were about to tell him. Honestly, at this point, you were just ready to get it over. The longer you kept it to yourself, the more you were worrying about it and his possible reaction. And the sooner you could just tell him, you’d see his honest, real reaction. . . and then you could deal with the rest from there. 

It also helped that his girlfriend and your certified therapist thought that it would go okay. They were the practical thinkers in this situation, whereas you were an overthinker to the highest degree. And, if you could just get it out–just fucking tell him–you could (hopefully) validate their predictions of how the situation would play out. 

“Am I driving or are you?” He asked, bringing your thoughts back to the present. 

To current Josh. Josh who didn’t know anything yet. Completely ignorant Josh. . . fuck. The last moments of keeping him in the dark.

“You,” was all you said before you unlocked the car and made your way to the passenger side. Once you were both inside, you handed him the keys as he started the engine.

Your stomach fucking dropped as he backed out of the space. . . what was about to come out would literally change you and Josh forever.

Would it be for good? Would it be for bad? If he was going to be mad at you, how long would he stay that way?

You couldn’t be upset with him if he got angry. For everything. Like distracting Jake when Josh had specifically told you he didn’t want that for his twin. Or for simply keeping this giant ass secret from him about it all. The more you thought about it, you thought that perhaps the reason you were so scared was because of how completely validated he would be if he did end up being pissed as hell with you. . .

But. . . you just couldn’t stand losing him. Especially at such a time as this. . . you needed him. 

And that’s why you just needed to fucking tell him. It was inevitable for him to find out, and the sooner it was out, the sooner you weren’t lying to him anymore. Because that’s exactly what you’d been doing. You’d been fucking lying. For months. To your best friend.

“So,” he began, excited–the complete opposite of how you were feeling. “Where are we going?” 

Plugging your phone into the CarPlay, you turned off Siri’s voice before you did anything since you didn’t want her blurting out your destination before you were ready to tell him. Once she was silenced, you pulled up the directions to the clinic you’d carefully chosen. 

You sat back slowly after entering it, your stomach spinning as your thoughts went insane and your nerves continued to set on white-hot fire.

You spared a glance over at him through your lashes to see him looking out the corner of his eye at you, coming up to a stoplight. The look he was giving you made you sure that your face was morphed to show utter terror and worry. “What’s wrong, mama?”

Fuck. You turned to face the front again and squeezed your eyes shut at the nickname, bringing two clenched, sweaty fists up to your eyes as your skin began to feel like it was quite actually peeling off of you in nervous jitters. Your eyes couldn’t stand being squeezed shut any longer as you felt the tears forming behind your lids.

He continued driving, but with the occasional nervous glance in your direction. 

Then, he laid a comforting palm on your shoulder, his thumb soothing circles over your arm. 

And, once he’d done that, it was no longer in your control to keep the tears at bay. You tried to fight them back, but it was to no avail. 

So, there you were, face becoming drenched in tears as you couldn’t stop sputtering little sobs. 

In your peripheral, you saw Josh looking at you as he came to one last light before the highway, face surely painted with distress. “Y/n?” He checked, careful and concerned. “I’m sorry if I said some–.”

And what came out of your mouth next was not at all expected. But, it blurted through your lips with zero fucking warning. You did not know which part of your brain had decided to communicate with your mouth to say it.

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed.

The car lurched to a stop, cars honking furiously behind you at Josh’s abrupt action. Your stomach, already thick with nerves, couldn’t handle it. You quickly slapped an open palm over your mouth to conceal any projectile vomiting. Thankfully none came, but you had to clench your eyes shut once again as Josh made a wide, sloppy U-turn off of the street that was leading to the highway. 

And when he’d finally come to a stop again, you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled the car over into the nearest McDonald’s.

Focusing too hard on trying not to vomit helped you to stop the outrageous weeping for a few minutes. You finally peeled the hand from your mouth as you took several deep breaths, in and out, to calm yourself and your stomach. 

Before you even knew what was happening, Josh was getting out, running to the door of the establishment. You watched in the mirror to your right as he simultaneously got his wallet out of his back pocket. 

Choosing not to worry about it, you shut your eyes once more to ease your tummy. But it did not help and you felt the puke coming in just enough time to unlock your door, open it, and puke all over a piece of the yellow line that boxed the car into its space.

You groaned as you leaned back up into the car and into your seat, letting your hair fall from the impromptu ponytail that you were holding at the back of your neck. Popping open the glovebox, you grabbed a few napkins to wipe your face (these days, between the incessant crying and vomiting, you were fucking constantly thanking God for the years-accumulated collection).

And then the driver’s side door was opening once more, this time Josh’s khakis making the first appearance as he climbed back in. He had two cups, one balanced between his bicep, clad in a white, long-sleeved tee and his chest and one in his hand. He quickly placed both in the center cup holders and popped a straw in each. 

Your brows lifted, wondering. “What did you–?” 

“Sprite,” he pointed to the one at the front. “And water,” the one in the second holder. 

“How did you–?”

“There’s a part of my brain permanently cemented with what it was like to watch my mom be pregnant with Sammy,” he explained, eyes soft with a smile gracing his handsome features. “I was too young to remember watching her pregnancy with Ron, but Sammy. . . he’s always been tough–even in the fuckin’ womb.”

You gave a small giggle, stomach spinning when your hand went to grab the Sprite. The carbonation sounded perfect, and Sprite had been a go-to in a few cases of your recent nausea. 

The cool drink had been just what you’d needed, sighing as soon as you brought the straw away from your lips with the first sip. You kept it clutched in your hands as a lifeline when you looked at Josh next, eyes wet. “Thank you, Joshy,” you croaked, tone exuding gratefulness. 

“Yeah, always,” he affirmed, his eyebrows dipped in. The next few minutes were spent in silence, your thoughts finally quieted a little with the initial confession to him. You took a few quiet sips of your drink, the sound of you swallowing the loudest sound in the small car.

Knowing he most likely wasn’t wanting to pressure you to talk, you took the initiative. “I–I’m sorry for not– I’m–,” you choked, shaking your head. The tears were beginning to gather once fucking more. Yet, even with eyes wet and throat tight, you persevered. You had to get the rest of it said before you continued to the appointment–you were going to be late if you didn’t get going soon. And you weren’t about to tell him the rest afterwards. “I have to tell you the rest.”

His jaw clenched in preparation for it as he nodded, his body turning to better face you for what was left. “Lay it on me.”

You gulped, mimicking his movement so you could see him better. Your throat was so tight it nearly suffocated you with nerves. “The–the father,” you started, looking into the eyes that looked so eerily similar to his brother’s. Very much like the ones you hoped your baby would wind up having–yet, not entirely the same. “Do you want to know?”

Of course you’ll want to, you thought at your ridiculous question. And I’m going to tell you anyway, but I’m stalling like a pussy.

His lips quirked, but only the slightest, tiniest bit. “Only if you want to tell me.”

I have to.

“I–I do,” you said, your eyes darting down to your hands which wrung at your waist, itching to touch your tummy. So, you did, settling them on the small bump. And instantly, you felt better. You were beginning to find it slightly crazy what one simple touch could do. 

Choosing to watch your hands lace at your tummy instead of him, you took the last jump with two words. “It’s Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i promise you won't be waiting a month for Josh's reaction ;) see you very, very soon <3

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3 (i am slowly but surely adding these users to the taglist! :) life is busy as hell and i haven't been updating my doc w the tags like i should :/)

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon , @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule

[nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105]

“I’ve Got My Eyes On You”

@jasminmartinez19

“I do hope you love this my dear. You deserve the credit for this one.” 🖤🖤🖤🐦‍⬛

Master List

It started as small gestures like small insults here and there. But those insults turned into compliments.

*Simons POV*

Just seeing her walk into the room makes my heart flutter and I feel hot especially in my face. The way she smiles.

*God that smile and laugh does things to me that I can’t explain*

All she has to do is smile at me or talk to me and I forget everything about the day or what I was talking about. And already enough Soap has caught whiff of the situation.

The way she cares about everyone makes me jealous. I want to talk to her about these feelings she makes me have. I have to talk with her about it. But fucking hell how?

She walked outside while I was taking a drag she looked like she wanted to say something but the fucking giant had to stomp his way over and interrupt her. I watched her crawl back into her shell she stood there shyly. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked so beautiful standing there with a few strands of hair sitting on her lovely face.

*(Y/N) POV*

Gosh just seeing him in the gym working out made my heart flutter so much. All his veins popping out of his arms and legs and the way he looks standing there. I’ve caught myself staring too much and König keeps teasing me about my crush.

Last night I almost had my chance to say something he was standing with Soap taking a drag from his cigarette but König interrupted the moment by telling a story about what happened on the mission that was embarrassing.

Listening to König talk and laugh. His accent was so thick that the Scots accent sounded as loud as his. I watched as Simon stood beside Soap not speaking. He was just there observing the moment. I couldn’t help but watch Simon. The way the mask covered his the mystery that shroud around him made him more desirable to me.

The two blind love birds worked as usually together but they stole glances from each others here and there. Our blind lovers needed a little push to make them realize they both loved each other.

(Y/n) had just gotten back from a mission with König she walked outside and sat down on the ground to watch the sunset.

“König I know you’re behind me?”

*she laughs softly*

“Sorry Schatz”

“It’s okay, can I ask you something?”

“Ja”

“It’s about my crush on you know who?”

König sat beside her and looked at the sunset with her. He sighed softly and spoke.

“Have you told him yet?”

“That’s the part König. I’m afraid too I want to tell him so bad when I’m with him. But I’m afraid he isn’t gonna like me back and it might ruin our friendship and make things weird as we work together”

“Why is having a crush on someone complicated”

*she sighs and cradled her face in her hands*

“It’s called a crush for a reason Schatz. Love makes us into fools. There’s a saying you have here.”

“Why do fools fall in love?”

*he starts to chuckle softly. Nudging her with his elbow*

“Shut up König, you’re such a weirdo.”

*she pushes him back but he doesn’t move at all*

“Schatz don’t over think this? Just tell him how you feel and if he doesn’t feel the same way about you then he’s blind to not see the kind of woman you are.”

*he pats her back and continues watching the sunset*

“Hmmmm okay, I’ll tell him soon. But I need to think about what I’m gonna say to him and when to say it. God!? I’m such a fool in love!!”

*she sighs again with a giggle*

Meanwhile

“Soap drop it!”

“L.t, you have a thing for the Bonnie wee lassie, don’t you.”

*his stern British accent echoed in the weight room*

“Sergeant McTavish let it go?!”

“Oh come on L.t the Bonnie is head over heels in love with you.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you and when I catch her she turns red.”

“Go talk to her L.t, she gots her eyes set on you Si.”

Simon stands there looking down at the weight bar and sighs softly. Think about (y/n) the way she smiles and how she makes his day brighter. The way she soft feathery touches excites him. How it makes his heart skip a beat. He hated the feeling at first. He thought he had developed a heart condition so he went to get seen and that’s when they called him and told him his results are all normal and he still didn’t understand why when he was around (y/n) she made his heart flutter.

He didn’t let anyone know about the feeling he had when he was around (y/n). But the Scot already had found out. He saw how Simon froze when he was hit in the shoulder on the field and how (y/n) threw herself on top of him to shield him from the rubble that came crashing down on top of them. The way he held her and not caring about his gunshot wound in his shoulder. She was more important to him and he was important to her as well. She kept her eyes on him ever since that day. She sometimes hums a song called “Say yes to Heaven”

The way she smelled her perfume made him feel so strong. The protective urge to keep her safe was all he thought about in that moment.

-A Few Days Later-

(Y/N) sat alone in the mess hall eating breakfast and reading a book. Soap and König had walked in and looked at each other today was the day they were gonna get the blind lovers alone together.

Soap and König devised a plan for the blind lovers to meet up in the weight room.

After breakfast König approached (y/n) and asked her if she would like to work out with him for the afternoon. She nearly choked on her muffin.

“What?!”

“König you’re joking right?! My guy you’re 6,10 remember and I’m small (your height). *She swallows the muffin with orange juice.*

“Please Schatz, Soap and Ghost are all busy and I don’t have anyone.”

*she sighs and buries her face in her book*

“Okay!, okay calm yourself!?”

“If I die with your work out regimen. I’m coming back to haunt you forever?!”

*König laughed at her response and gave her the time to meet up with him at the weight room*

-Meanwhile-

“L.t you up for weights today?”

“What now McTavish?”

*Simon sighs loudly looking down*

“Come on L.t, König and (y/n) agreed to spar with us today one on one.”

*Simon stopped in his tracks and he perked up not wanting to show his interest he brushed it off and walked away with a simple “No”

This broke his heart, he would give anything or do anything to see (y/n) smile and laugh for him. All he wanted was to be alone with her for once and confess his feelings to her. And hopefully put an end to his fluttering heart “condition” and hopefully make his stomach stop feeling like there’s something fluttering in his stomach

*Hours Later*

(Y/n) walked to the weight room in her shorts and a plain black t shirt. She walked in and ready to see König but she was met with a shirtless Simon Riley hitting the punching bag.

“Oh God?”

*she whispered to herself and she had gotten so red and hot on her face*

She quickly looked down and hid her face and chewed her inner cheek and forced a smile to her face and tries to not look at Simons chest.

“Hey Si, where’s König?”

“König? I don’t know where? Where’s Soap?”

“Soap told me that you and König wanted to spar with us.”

“König asked me to work out with him today because you guys were busy.”

She realized what König had done.

*in her mind*

*“oh my fucking gosh”*

*this was the plan he had set in motion for me to confess my feelings to Simon.*

“If you don’t mind Simon we can spar together or lift weights together.”

*she smiles to him but her sights linger on his sweaty chest*

“Eyes up here love”

“What?!”

“My eyes are up here love”

“I know that. I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

*He sighs softly and laughs softly looking away and walking over to the mats*

“Coming love?”

“Oh yes”

*he’s calling me love. That’s the first he always says rookie or smalls. Why the pet name or has he always said that to me and I never realized it*

*She walks over to the mats and he looks at her up and down and his eyes linger on her chest*

“Eyes up here Ghost?”

*he locked his gaze with hers and smiled*

“I don’t know what you’re talking about love?”

*She blushed at his comment and tried to look away. But he saw how she reacted to his comment. He loved the way she blushed and how she tried to hide it from him*

“Ready Love”

“Yes”

They danced around each other and grabbing one another playfully and they both started to laugh and lightly brush their fingers on each others arms. Time had stopped between the blind lovers.

It seem like hours had gone by but it only had been minutes. The way she smiled to him and how she playfully teased him. Simon had to make a move or something or someone was gonna ruin this moment for them.

He dove after her legs and dragged her underneath him where he pinned her down underneath him. She didn’t fight back she had turned a shade pink under him. Her breathing hitched in her throat.

“Simon”

“Yes love”

“Simon, I uh I -?”

The sound of the doors opening and I’m walking comes Captain Price.

“Fucking Hell”

*he mutters under his breath*

“Simon, (Y/n) I’ve been looking for you too. I hope I’m not interrupting your match.”

“No Sir!”

*Simon stands up and helps (y/n) up to her feet*

She looks to Simon but his full attention is on Captain Price.

“We have a last minute mission. Wheels up in 2 hours be ready”

“Briefing will be in 30mins”

“Yes Sir!”

*Simon leaves the weight room leaving her behind. Her face still pink from the interaction earlier. This moment they shared showed that Simon heart wasn’t made of ice. He actually was gonna confess his feelings and she was about to kiss him*

After the briefing everyone gathers their gear together and she see Simon alone at the tarmac. This is her chance she has to say something.

“Simon can we talk?”

“Yeah Love”

“Okay here I go. I umm-?”

“L.t and Bonnie what’s-?”

“Soap!”

“Go away for a few minutes! Please!”

*she snaps at Soap and König*

*The guys walk away giving them some privacy*

“Okay this is a now or never situation. Okay come on (y/n)”

“Okay”

“Simon I always liked you more then a friend ever since we met. I can’t keep hiding behind a mask when I’m around you. I love when you pick on me and when you leave little gifts in my gear bag. I known it was you all along you remember all the tiny details from my childhood stories I told you about and it makes my heart skip a beat when I’m with you and around you. I can’t keep denying my feelings for you anymore I have to say something and do something.”

“If you don’t feel the same way I don’t want this to ruin our existing friendship.”

*Simon looks at her stunned at her confession. He doesn’t know how to react or what to say to her. All the words he had rehearsed to say to her all disappeared.*

“Please say something?”

*Simon stood in silence looking at her with his stoic serious face*

“(Y/N) I uh I-?”

*she sighs sadly*

*before she can walk away. Simon grabs her arm and pulls her towards him. He pulls her into a kiss.*

“Love you have no idea how long I wanted to do that to you”

“Since we met you’ve always been on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve always had my eyes on you (y/n)”

*She smiled to him and pulled him down for another kiss*

Everyone board the plane and they had their gear strapped to them and parachutes checked. Awaiting for the signal. Ghost looked at his lover (y/n).

“Say yes to heaven, say yes to me”

*he winked at her under the red light*

a/n credit to the artist for the gif. Name is label beneath the gif.

[caffedrine]

Rio Ortiz and Silvio Ricci - He is Me and I am Him?! - Event Summary

If anyone gets the idea that I know what I’m doing, then we have both made a giant mistake. I do not guarantee anything, much less accuracy in this summary.

This was a pretty fun event, you should definitely support Cybird when it comes out in English and buy/read it.

Warning: Mid-route spoilers for Rio and Silvio's routes.

Please note: This is set before Emma has romanced either Rio or Silvio.

One morning Emma wakes up to the sun shining in a clear blue sky, birds chirping happily at the morning, and no Rio around. She waits a while, but Rio, who if anything else, has always been punctual with her, never shows up. Emma grows concerned, has something happened to him?

Upon exiting her room, she overhears Rio and Silvio talking loudly nearby. As always, the atmosphere between them is anything but peaceful. Emma realizes that they’re arguing, and she rushes to put a stop to their fight, hoping that she can prevent herself from landing in turbulent waters.

She quickly steps between the two men, and politely greets Silvio, interrupting him. She has no idea what they’re fighting about now, but if she can hold off Silvio for a few minutes, she might be able to calm Rio down.

Silvio is happy to see her. Really, really happy to see her. He enthusiastically greets her, and pronounces how lovely it is to see her.

(Blushy Silvio)

There is a long pause as Emma digests these words.

Silvio suddenly apologizes, he lost track of the time. He understands why she wasn’t waiting for him in her room, she must have grown worried about him missing and decided to find him on her own. He gushes over how cute she is, inside and out. Smiling broadly, Silvio approaches her, and Emma backs away.

Is she still asleep or something?

Silvio notices her reaction and stops, his face falling. He apologizes, his face is very scary these days and it’s understandable why she doesn’t want him to be so close to her.

Rio snarles at Silvio to keep his damn mouth closed for once in his life.

Before her very eyes, Rio reaches out to grab Silvio’s head in a terrible grip, squeezing him with his full strength. Silvio whines that it hurts, adding that he just cant help himself when Emma is all cute like that. Just seeing her makes the worst catastrophic event of his life seem bearable.

Oh, no it doesn’t. Rio glowers even more, his hand squeezing and Silvio cries out. His head is going to crack open at this rate!

Emma is completely and utterly confused. The more she watches, the less she understands. Her brain keeps on running into the wall of why Silvio, a distinguished guest, and her attendant Rio are acting like this.

She grabs Rio’s hand and pries it off of Silvio. Leaning forward, she looks into Silvio’s eyes and asks if he’s okay. Silvio(?) admits that it really hurt, but after hearing her voice, and having her dote on him, he suddenly feels much better. He enthusiastically thanks her.

Awkwardly, Emma tells Silvio(?) that she’s glad she can help, deciding that this man definitely needs a doctor. She turns to find Rio and leans to whisper in to his ear and ask him to calm down.

Rio (?) suddenly jerks away from her, shouting at her to stay the hell away from him. Confused, Emma steps forward, and tries to soothe him. She assures him that she has no doubt Silvio (?) started everything, but he can’t just go and assault Silvio (?) no matter how much provocation he has endured.

(She touched his hand)

Rio (?) glares at her with a dark expression that she has never seen before. He praises her for having the guts to say that he is at fault for this. Or maybe this is her way of saying she wants to devote her life to making up for the social gaff against him.

Silvio (?) cuts in and demands that Rio (?) stop being so rude to Emma. Rio (?) calls Silvio (?) a fucking dog and tells him to shut it. Silvio (?) shouts at Rio (?) to watch his damn tongue.

Okay, everyone is now going to the infirmary. Emma will personally make sure they arrive with no complications. Silvio (?) and Rio (?) resist, giving each other a level look before turning back to her. Rio (?) tells Emma to wait, and they’ll explain everything.

Rio (?) steers her into a waiting room and tells her not to yell or scream, just to listen. He pushes her down on a sofa, and Silvio (?) immediately yells at him for being so violent. He asks if Emma is okay, and she assures him she is fine.

Silvio (?) sits companionably next to Emma and laughs a little, as if he is in trouble that he expects her to sympathize with. He explains that he and Rio (?) have appeared to switch bodies. Rio (?) adds that they already agreed that going to the infirmary won’t solve this problem.

Emma sits back and thinks about it, but once again her brain hits a wall. She looks from Rio’s (?) scowling face to Silvio’s (?) gentle smile. This should be unbelievable, but if it was true, it would honestly explain so much. Besides, Rio wouldn’t lie to her, and Silvio doesn’t come off as a liar either.

Silvio (?) gushes over how cute Emma’s surprised face looks. Oh, but using this body to express his affection is just so disgusting. It’s so painful to hold back and repress his feelings for Emma.

Rio (?) suddenly smacks him in the head reprovingly. He complains about how, out of everyone in the castle, its’ the fucking dog that he switched bodies with. Silvio (?) asks if that means he would be fine switching bodies with anyone else in the castle, and Rio (?) grumbles that might be Silvio’s (?) wish, but it’s not his.

Emma realizes that she’s going to have to mentally switch them, otherwise she will be way too confused. But, she thinks that she is able to understand the situation, and asks them if anything in particular happened that caused the switch.

Rio admits that nothing comes to mind, he just randomly woke up wearing Silvio’s body this morning. Silvio grumbles that this means that they have no clues on how to switch back. Normally, he would imagine that if they wait long enough, the switchback will eventually happen.

Emma suggests that they both retreat to their respective rooms and wait out this strange happening. Maybe if they avoid talking to anyone else, they’ll just eventually go back to normal.

Silvio shakes his head, he can’t do that. Unlike some people, he is a very busy man. Rio quickly interrupts to add that Emma is also very busy, so Silvio should stop acting like he’s the only one who’s plans are interrupted by this occurrence. Silvio replies that he has an unavoidable business meeting today.

Emma recalls that Silvio isn’t just a prince, he’s also a very influential businessman. Even while staying in Rhodolite, he is constantly meeting with merchants and artisans, and the Rhodolite economy benefits from his investing in the country’s businesses.

Silvio tells them that he has a deal hinging on his negotiations today. If it falls through, he will personally blame them and demand that they compensate him for every coin he loses. Rio grumbles that Silvio makes it sound like he had a choice in this body switch. Silvio only snorts, maybe if Rio wasn’t in the castle at all, the switch wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Rio retorts that the same goes for Silvio. Silvio asks if Rio is comparing the presence of a mere butler with that of an honored guest.

Even in this situation, they immediately start fighting. Emma can feel a headache approaching. She cuts in and asks Silvio if there is any way he can postpone his meeting today, but Silvio refuses. The person he’s meeting with is going on a long journey to foreign countries starting tomorrow, today is the last and only day they can meet.

Emma realizes that there is only one way they can handle Silvio’s business negotiations, but that would require Rio to be very amenable to bearing a large burden. Silvio asks Rio if he can do it, and Rio agrees; after all this agreement would benefit both Benitoite and Rhodolite.

Emma marvels at Rio, in spite of everything, he understands the situation perfectly. And, she realizes that she trusts him to uphold his end of this mission. Rio assures her that it will be okay, Emma’s thoughtfulness is getting him through this trying time. Ugh, but he doesn’t want to use this body to praise her. He tells her to wait just a little, they’ll be back to normal in no time.

Silvio grumbles that there is no time for them to be messing around, the meeting is scheduled for this evening. The other party is not straightforward, Rio will need to remember all the information Silvio is going to give him and consider when and how he will show his hand.  Silvio won’t forgive Rio if he performs poorly.

Rio tells Silvio not to worry, the experience of being pushed around by the prince of a neighboring country will serve him well. Silvio snorts at this and tells Rio to sincerely thank this mysterious prince for training him so well.

Rio tells Silvio to go ahead and give him the information for Rio to study. While he’s studying up on this negotiation, Silvio will need to take his place. Silvio’s face immediately falls from the triumphant grin to one of confusion. Rio ‘reminds’ him that he had set a series of tasks in preparation for his business deal today.

Rio was planning on finishing them this morning, but, well, life got in the way. He laughs at Silvio’s face, the nigh impossible tasks Silvio set out for him have suddenly bounced back onto Silvio. Silvio grumbles that it’s not impossible, with Rio’s skills they should have only taken half a day, tops. Emma realizes that thought they barely get along, Silvio obviously trusts and respects Rio’s talents.

Very kindly, Rio asks Silvio not to do anything strange while he’s borrowing his body. Silvio snarks that it should be him saying that; Rio’s weird attitude could throw off his entire image. Ugh, he wants to return to normal and just sink into the sea. Rio nods, he understands perfectly, he also wants to toss this body into the sea too.

(Things are going great)

Watching them, Emma wonders how two people who are so similar can come to blows so quickly. She interrupts them, telling them they’re out of time for squabbling and offers to help them. Speaking at the same time, they both try to claim Emma’s help, then stop at the same time, glaring at each other.

Rio points out that he’s now the ‘honored guest’, so he should be prioritized. Silvio disagrees, he’s now the ‘best friend’, and it would be less likely to raise suspicions if she helped him.

Well, they’ve fallen into their exact opposite roles quickly.

Emma decides to start by helping Rio organize the information needed for the negotiation, then she can help Silvio collect and prepare the sample materials.

With the three of them scrambling to prepare for the business meeting, time flies by, and soon enough Rio, still inside Silvio’s body, is meeting with his prospective new business partner, a floriculturist. Silvio and Emma are playing the parts of servants, supporting him.

This new potential business partner has a new strain of roses, with a more vivid color and richer scent. Silvio wants to buy them and process them into various other products and give the floriculturist a cut of the final profits. The man is amenable to this plan, but there are two factors that he is hesitant about. He is very patriotic and does not want his roses, the symbol of Rhodolite, to be treated poorly. He is also weary that the list of craftsmen Silvio is outsourcing the processing to are not familiar with working with roses.

Emma is in awe of Rio’s skills, he is pushing at the right moments, but backing off and considering the man’s point of view as well. But, beyond that, he is doing an excellent job of imitating Silvio’s style of speech, and how he would act. If Emma didn’t know any better, she would have thought they had already switched back to their normal bodies.

However, as good and skilled as Rio is, the floriculturist is about to withdraw from the negotiations until Silvio steps in. He produces the final sample product, a cut of herbal tea. The man sips it, and his eyes go wide. It is a flavor he has never tasted, but it is so good!

In Rio’s body, Silvio explains that the tea is made by a craftsman on the list, who is familiar with working with a wide variety of plants, plants that are rarely, if ever, used for tea. Rio explains that they didn’t just select a random listing of craftsmen, their selections were based on familiarity with delivering high-quality products to aristocrats and working with uncommon materials.

Well, that just sealed the deal. The man thanks Rio, and tells him that he looks forward to working together with Silvio on this matter. After they work out the finer details, the man approaches Emma and gifts her one of his roses since she is obviously Silvio’s woman.

Rio and Silvio immediately object to this. The man looks dumbfounded, he was certain he felt something between her and Silvio during this meeting. Silvio, in Rio’s body, tries to explain that Silvio would never be interested in a woman like her. Rio tires to say they’re not together, but his tongue ties up and he cant force the words out.

Oh, okay. The man finally understands. She’s with this man in front of him.

Silvio goes bright red and shouts even louder that the man is totally and completely wrong.

The man turns to face Emma; it appears she has a very complicated relationship with the two men here. Emma tells him not to worry about it and thanks him for the lovely rose, ignoring Silvio and Rio who have very difficult expressions on their faces.

She wonders why they are so similar.

Clover End: Rio

Somehow Rio was able to imitate Silvio throughout the entire negotiations. Afterward, the floriculturist approached him and apologized. He explains that from what he heard, he had thought Silvio would have used his rank and forced the negotiations through, prioritizing money over making sure they had a great product. He had come to this meeting expecting to refuse the deal, but seeing how his feelings were understood, the floriculturist completely trusts him now.

Imitating Silvio, Rio grasps the man’s outstretched hand and shakes it while laughing arrogantly. He assures him that he will meet his newest business partner’s expectations. With a look of respect and trust, the man tells him that Silvio is the best merchant he’s ever met.

That’s how Silvio has always been able to gain people’s trust.

While Rio can barely remember anything specific, it’s been a while since he figured out Silvio was his brother. But, when the man just called Silvio a ‘great merchant’, Rio knows that it is true. He may be tyrannical, but he never uses cowardly or underhanded tactics in commerce. For better or worse, Silvio faces these situations straightforwardly and doesn’t back down.

When Rio read through the materials and documents Silvio had prepared, he was reminded of this facet of Silvio’s personality. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Silvio has some good points.

Rio recalls that day of frantic studying, realizing that as much as Silvio had recorded in the endless documents, he had already memorized it for this specific meeting. He could feel Silvio’s enthusiasm through the words on the papers. He had gone through and anticipated the questions and concerns the other party would have and had worked hard to address them all. Even Emma had been impressed with Silvio’s research into this single business deal.

From Silvio’s notes, Rio could understand that this floriculturist’s roses were the best in the country. For the sake of Rhodolite, for the sake of Emma who loves this country, Rio wants Silvio’s venture to succeed and spread Rhodolite’s roses across the continent.

Silvio is a royal prince, and he could force the negotiations to his advantage, but Rio was already warned that was not an option. Silvio intends to treat this business deal like he’s treated all other business deals, as a well-connected merchant.

Silvio is still a horrid older brother and a terrible guest in the Rhodolite court. But, as a merchant, Silvio is impeccable in both morals and skill. Silvio would never have the floriculturist’s passion for roses, but he has worked hard to understand it for this meeting, like a true merchant.

No, he was like this even before he became a merchant.

Without warning, a memory crepes into Rio’s mind.

*Flashback Time*

Child!Rio is in the royal ballroom, pressed up against a window trying to get a view of the night sky when Silvio comes across him. Silvio asks what he’s doing, and Rio explains that he is trying to catch a glimpse of the meteor shower that night. He asks if Silvio is here for the same reason.

Silvio is not, he was just passing by when he heard a noise from the supposedly empty ballroom and came to investigate.

Rio complains that he can’t see the sky well, and Silvio suggests another area in the garden near the pool. It has an unobstructed view of the sky, and the pool would also reflect the meteor shower.

Rio hovers on indecision; he’s technically out of bed after his curfew, if he gets caught, he would be scolded. As if seeing his mind working, Silvio tells him that the Queen and Emidio are out tonight, and Rio’s mother is meeting with the King.

Rio asks if Silvio wants to come with him, but Silvio refuses, he doesn’t care to see the stars.

Silvio has always stolen things from Rio. Maybe the reason Silvio didn’t take the meteor shower away from Rio too was that this wasn’t something he could physically have. But then again, Silvio had gone out of his way to help Rio see them, even though he had no interest in seeing them himself.

Thinking of that memory, Rio wonders if Silvio has changed since that day. Even back then, he was good at understanding the value that other people had in things that Silvio couldn’t understand.

*End Flashback*

After the floriculturist leaves, Silvio collapses on the sofa with a deep breath of relief. He then assures Rio and Emma that he had no doubts that it would succeed, after all, he was the one who originally prepared the materials.

Rio should get upset and yell at him for that, but with the new memory that had just returned, he lets it lie. He knows that there are a lot of bad and painful memories associated with Silvio that he doesn’t want to remember, but that one just now wasn’t so bad.

Afterward, Silvio generously invites Rio and Emma to his room for a post-negotiation celebration. Silvio doesn’t want to give either of them any credit for it, but a successful business deal is worth celebrating.

The drink Silvio procures shimmers, and Rio is certain he has never seen it before. Emma accepts it and is amazed at how delicious it is. Rio takes a moment to fawn over how cute Emma is when she’s happy. Then he gets concerned, she’s drinking at a decent pace, but the alcohol content is very high, and her cheeks are already red.

Rio muses that the drink is very nice, but it would have been better if it was just the two of them drinking. Silvio shouts at him to stop complaining, and if he must, then he can just get the hell out. Rio suggests he and Emma leave, and Silvio snaps at him to leave Emma alone. Rio sure as hell is not going to leave Emma alone with Silvio, and to consider the implications.

Fine, if Rio must stay, he can go ahead and curl up in the corner of the room and leave the celebration to Silvio and Emma. Don’t say anything, don’t take up any space, just erase his presence.

Emma complains that they’re not celebrating, and to calm down. They did a good job working together today, and they should take the win.

Silvio puffs out his chest and asks if Emma now comprehends his greatness. Rio is over the moon to have Emma compliment him, if he wasn’t in this body he’d be hugging her right now.

Emma laughs a little and muses that they’re getting along a little better now.

(Double trouble)

Maybe she’s right; Rio was able to regain one memory associated with Silvio and has a better understanding of him than he did just this morning. He can’t say he’s happy but . . .

Afterward, Emma falls asleep while they’re drinking, and Rio marvels over how cute she looks. Unfortunately, he’ll have to cut this celebration short and return her to her room. When he approaches Emma to pick her up, Silvio reaches out and grabs his head roughly.

Rio is not going to use Silvio’s body to pick up women where everyone can see! What does he think will happen to both of their reputations?

Rio sees his point and considers having Silvio in his body carry her back. Oh, but that would mean letting Silvio carry her back to her room. Ahh, why is this so hard!? Rio and Silvio stare at each other, both at an impasse.

Eventually, Silvio gives up, he’ll let her sleep here and they’ll figure it out in the morning. Rio announces in that case, he’s not going to leave either. He challenges Silvio to a drinking contest, certain that he will win. Silvio snorts but raises a glass to his mouth; the contest is on!

At some point during the night, Rio fell asleep without winning the contest.

When Rio wakes up, he sees Emma awake and looking around with a surprised expression. It’s a wonderful sight to wake up to, and Rio cheerfully greets her.

Somewhere nearby, Silvio wakes up and complains that both Rio and Emma are in his room. Then he remembers what happened the previous day.

Looking from one to the other, Emma excitedly tells them that they’re back to normal.

Heart End – Silvio

Somehow Rio was able to imitate Silvio throughout the entire negotiations. Afterward, the floriculturist approached him and apologized. He explains that from what he heard, he had thought Silvio would have used his rank and forced the negotiations through and prioritized money over making sure they had a great product. He had come to this meeting expecting to refuse the deal, but seeing how his feelings were understood, the floriculturist completely trusts him now.

It wasn’t the perfect business negotiations Silvio had envisioned when he had prepared for it, and Rio was obviously inexperienced. But, they made it through with his reputation relatively unscathed, even though it would have been much smoother if Silvio was conducting it. Of course, he had never intended to use his status as a member of the Royal Family in the first place.

If he was to use that tactic, he could still make a profit, but he wouldn’t be able to build a lasting business relationship with anyone. That’s why he spends so much time assuring and satisfying the concerns of the other party in the first place.

Silvio has to admit that Rio was able to get the merchant to trust ‘him’ far better than Silvio himself would have. Despite all of the research and time Silvio put into his relationships, Rio always had an innate talent that led others to love him.

Silvio has to fight down a surge of irritation and remembers a moment when he was in the palace kitchen preparing for this meeting.

*Flashback Time*

Silvio had expected the floriculturist to be concerned about the craftsmen’s ability to handle the roses and was looking for a sample product, the herbal tea that he was positive would cinch the deal. He was certain the royal court would have it but . . . .

As an honored guest with his own servants and entourage, Silvio had no idea where anything in the Rhodolite Palace’s Kitchen was. As he was resorting to opening random cupboards and groping around for the tea, a servant called out to him offering to help. Turning around, Silvio sees a man standing there with a friendly smile and surmises that this is one of Rio’s workmates.

Silvio tells the servant about the tea he’s looking for, and when he names the brand, the servant grows uncomfortable. It’s expensive and rare, and they’re out of stock. He asks when Silvio needs it by, and Silvio tells him its for this very evening.

Suddenly more servants arrive, overhearing Silvio’s plight. There are some shops in the city that might stock it, if they all work together, they can hit the most likely shops and return in time. As more and more servants show up and start coordinating the effort, Silvio realizes that Rio might actually like it here. As a mere servant, Rio is protected from the troubles of being a royal, and his talent to be loved is to his advantage. This actually might be a great place for him.

The servants assure Silvio not to worry about it, they’re all indebted to him, so this is easy payback. Besides, it’s for his precious Emma, is it not? He only gets all flustered like this when it’s for her.

At Silvio’s uncomprehending look, one of the maids reminds him that he’s rejected every pretty girl who has confessed to him since his arrival at the palace. Each time, he tells them that he is already in love with someone else.

Even in Benitoite, many women adored Rio and confessed to him. He was always wishy-washy in dealing with them, dodging and obscuring their affections without directly rejecting them. To put it bluntly, he would run away from them.

But these days he’s apparently handling them face-on.

The servants grow concerned at Silvio’s uncharacteristic silence, but before they can ask anything, Emma comes rushing in. They give her a suspicious look, before turning to Silvio and wishing him good luck.

Silvio stares at Emma, wondering if she has managed to change Rio so completely.

Emma asks if something happened with Silvio and the servants just now? Some of them were particularly close to Rio and are very nice. Oh, Silvio might like them too, they know the best bars and pubs in town and know lots about alcohol.

Suspiciously, Silvio asks if Emma is friends with them too, and she says that she is, though mostly because she’s Rio’s friend.

Aha! A confession that she is pretending to be a noble! What plot is she and Rio hatching up here?

No, Emma is not saying that. It is possible to be both a noble and have friends amongst the servants. Besides, Rio is not that kind of person.

Silvio is amazed, how much can someone trust Rio without knowing anything of his past?

Emma catches his attention; she asks what she can do to help. Silvio hands over the list he prepared to her, explaining that these are items required to show hospitality. It is full of items, and he wonders how far she can get. Afterwards, they need her to practice brewing tea, his potential business partner has a very discerning tongue.

Emma reminds Silvio that he’s in Rio’s body, and it is Rio’s duty to prepare the tea. Of course, if Silvio cannot, she’ll step in and do it.

Silvio snaps back that he is amazing at brewing teas, if he were to brew it, it would close the deal before Rio even opened his mouth.

Okay, that sounds like a challenge. They’ll both brew and whoever makes the better tea wins. Silvio grumbles; if you lose you face humiliation, if you win you get punished by having to make the tea. This isn’t a good competition. Emma smiles at him happily, and his frustrations seem to vanish.

This is the woman who changed Rio.

*End Flashback*

There are parts of Rio that have changed, and parts of Rio that have stayed the same. Either way, he’s still a fucking dog.

But today, Silvio doesn’t mind so much.

Silvio generously invites Rio and Emma to his room for a post-negotiation celebration. Silvio doesn’t want to give either of them any credit for it, but a successful business deal is worth celebrating.

His celebration alcohol is of a rare and high quality rarely seen outside of Benitoite. Both Emma and Rio’s eyes widen at it and the pleasant flavor, and Emma thanks him profusely.

Rio muses that the drink is very nice, but it would have been better if it was just the two of them drinking. Silvio shouts at him to stop complaining, and if he must, then he can just get the hell out. Rio suggests he and Emma leave, and Silvio snaps at him to leave Emma alone. Rio sure as hell is not going to leave Emma alone with Silvio, and to consider the implications.

Fine, if Rio must stay, he can go ahead and curl up in the corner of the room and leave the celebration to Silvio and Emma. Don’t say anything, don’t take up any space, just erase his presence.

Emma complains that they’re not celebrating, and to calm down. They did a good job working together today, and they should take the win.

Silvio puffs out his chest and asks if Emma now comprehends his greatness. Rio is over the moon to have Emma compliment him, if he wasn’t in this body he’d be hugging her right now.

Emma laughs a little and muses that they’re getting along a little better now.

Maybe she’s right; Silvio does understand current Rio a little better, but it doesn’t make him happy at all.

Afterward, Emma falls asleep while they’re drinking, and Rio marvels over how cute she looks. Unfortunately, he’ll have to cut this celebration short and return her to her room. When he approaches Emma to pick her up, Silvio panics and reaches out to grab his head roughly. It’s a familiar gesture, one that Rio does not appreciate.  

Rio is not going to use Silvio’s body to pick up women where everyone can see! What does he think will happen to both of their reputations?

Eventually, Silvio gives up, he’ll let her sleep here and they’ll figure it out in the morning. Rio announces in that case, he’s not going to leave either. He challenges Silvio to a drinking contest, certain that he will win. Silvio snorts but raises a glass to his mouth; the contest is on!

At some point during the night, Silvio fell asleep without winning the contest.

Silvio wakes up to the sound of Rio gushing over how cute Emma is in the morning, especially her bedhead. It takes him a moment to regain his memories from the previous night, and he complains about both Emma and Rio still being in his room.

Looking from one to the other, Emma excitedly tells them that they’re back to normal.

Epilogue

Emma wakes up to a room full of empty bottles of alcohol. It appears that Silvio and Rio continued drinking late into the night, long after she fell asleep. Looking at them now, both of them are sleeping with peaceful expressions. She can’t tell if they’re still swapped or back to normal.

Suddenly Rio’s body opens his eyes, and he sees her looking at him. He smiles and wishes her a good morning, gushing over how cute she looks, including her bedhead. Silvio’s body opens his eyes and groans that he has to wake up to them. Oh, yeah, yesterday . . .

Emma is surprised and happy, they both seem to have switched back!

Silvio and Rio look at each other, and their eyes widen with surprise. Rio confirms that Emma is right, and more importantly, he can go back to expressing the full range of his feelings to his hearts content now! Silvio grumbles that he no longer has to pretend to be the fucking dog.

Once, Emma might have gotten flusterd and upset at them arguing, but now she can sense a bond of trust between them. As if they felt comfortable enough around each other to not hold back on how they really felt. Or maybe working together yesterday has brought them closer together. It was rough, but in retrospect, it wasn’t so bad.

Rio picks up on her expression and gushes over her. Silvio snarks at her for being so masochistic that she is so happy at things going back to normal. Emma tells him that even hearing him grumble makes her happy. Silvio complains that she’s being rude.

Today, Emma doubts Silvio would be able to say anything that would make her truly mad at him. Then again, if he would say nicer things, that would be better.

Seeing her expression, Silvio accuses her of thinking rude thoughts about him.

Before they can continue, Rio cuts in and offers to make her morning tea. Since coming to the palace, he has always brought her tea in the morning, and the attempted return to normalcy is appreciated.

Emma thanks him, but has a request. Since he’s always taking care of her, she wants to switch things up and make tea for him. After all, yesterday she had special training, so she is confident in her brewing capabilities.

Rio is thankful for her offer, and also thankful for all the help she gave him yesterday in reviewing the materials and documents for the business negotiation. They smile sweetly at each other.

Silvio smacks her lightly on the back, distracting her. If she’s making tea, then she can make some for him too.

The three of them leave Silvio’s room.

Rio asks Silvio to let him write the thank you note to the floriculturist from yesterday, and Emma thinks that Rio should be the one to write the note since he was the point person for the negotiations. Silvio warns Rio against writing anything strange, and Rio asks what he means.

Silvio explodes at Rio; because of the way he acted yesterday, his newest business partner now thinks he’s in a love triangle with two servants. Rio agrees that this is a terrible misunderstanding that he doesn’t want to perpetuate.

Suddenly two servants round the corner, and Emma recognizes them as Rio’s friends who had helped Silvio and her out yesterday. Upon seeing Silvio today, they back off and move out of their way. Emma thanks them for their help yesterday and subtly nudges Rio who also thanks them. They smile and nod back at him.

Silvio clears his throat and tells them that the herbal tea they procured was very useful in his meeting. He would like to reward them for helping. The servants protest, but Silvio overrides them. He has heard that they are familiar with the bars and taverns in the area. As a thank you, they can take him to the best one and drinks will be on him.

The servants perk up and thank him profusely. Emma thinks that she has seen another new side to Silvio, a kind and loyal side. Maybe he’s more than just a tyrannical tyrant.

Rio invites himself and Emma along. Silvio agrees to Emma accompanying them, but not Rio.

With wide, innocent eyes, Rio talks about how they drank together all night last night, but how can he be said to be rewarded for his part if he can’t taste the alcohol with his own body? Silvio argues back that the alcohol was too good for Rio anyways.

As they publicly argue, Emma thinks that she doesn’t feel anxious. Maybe they fight so much because they are too similar in some ways. Maybe if they give it a chance, they can become great friends.

[noorahqar]

Hi, I recently found out you're Qar and I love your fics.

Can I ask about People Pleaser Sky and Angsty Twi and Depression Sky?

Hi ajscico!! I see you around a lot! Thank you and welcome to the blog officially, LOL.

I answered People Pleaser Sky in another ask. You can click here to look at that.

Angsty Twi is one of these docs where I have to do a little sleuthing to figure out what tf I was thinking. I specifically remember it being four ideas I'd written down for later. The first line is Four Angst. The second and third line... I can't tell whose POV it is, and it's driving me nuts:

It's strange, and undoubtedly awful, to be constantly surrounded by other people and yet feel profoundly alone. It's one of his more miserable thoughts. When he thinks it, the tiny little avatar of the Captain that's taken up residence in the corner of his brain doubles over laughing at how quintessentially edgy it is. Doubtlessly, the original would act just the same.

WHO IS THIS. WHO ARE YOU. WHY ARE YOU LONELY.

The fifth line is touch-starved Sky angst. The fourth line is the actual Twi Angst, and even that - I can't remember what I was thinking, LOL. I don't think I had a plan. It just says:

Twilight had grown up a feral child. Surely,

That's it. That's the Angsty Twi. I'm very unimpressed by my organizational skills. The actual angsty twilight is in "destroying your loved ones duo" - that's Twilight angst from the manga, him and Legend bonding over evaporating full villages they were attached to!

DEPRESSION SKY. This fic is my baby at current moment - Warriors and Twi notice that Sky's Loftwing is sad as fuck while being roped into helping build houses, despite Sky seeming to be okay. Cue them trying to force Sky to accept their love. It's fun. It'll probably be the next fic I post, although that'll probably take some time, LOL - I am still recovering from Life. Here's a snip, though!

“Well, that ain't good.” Twilight purses his lips. Warriors keeps petting the bird absently, neatly arranging her feathers into straighter lines. She hooks her giant beak around his shoulder. “I'll tell Sun about it. Sky's off recently, have ya noticed?” “I have, but I wasn't sure if I was imagining it,” Warriors says. He frowns thoughtfully. “Sky's normal and Sky's off are remarkably similar. I worry he's bottling something up.”  Crimson lets out a mournful little noise. Twilight's face twists into a concerned grimace. “…Do ya remember how Sky said Loftwings are extensions of their souls?” “I do,” Warriors says. Realization dawns in his eyes. “Wait, do you think…” “Yup.” They sit in silence for a moment, the laughter of others in the distance and rustle of the wind permeating it. Sky's nearby, in a meeting in the main village. Twilight had thought that he'd be happier in his own era, because he'd certainly looked it. The air here gave him a little more life.  “We should keep an eye on him,” Twilight suggests.  “Of course,” Warriors says. Crimson caws sadly again.

[amourtoken]

WAITTT HEAR ME OUT...okay are we hearing me out

GOING ON YOUR FIRST DATE WITH ARIIIIIIIIII it's such a basic idea but going along with the story line of having a friends to lovers sort of situation with him, he already knows A LOT of what you like. if anything, he doesn't even feel as if this is your FIRST date, like, ya'll have been basically going out before this. OOO and making him take those photo booth pictures w you.

him needily fucking you afterwards ofc

(apologies if this is rambley and awful I've slept a total of 3 hrs in the last 2 days and I need him so bad)

PLEASEEE he took you out on a date after you had a series of horrific tinder dates tbh you'd always call him afterwards in that sad little voice of yours talking about how terribly they went and although he was fighting off that jealous burn in his chest he figured he could kill two birds with one stone and show you how you should really be treated (and show you that what you've been looking for is right in front of you)

He made a whole big deal of it too, pulling up to your place with flowers (conveniently the exact ones you love tied up in a pretty rose gold bow. How sweet.) and a huge smile once he saw what you were wearing. He made a point to tell you just how pretty he thought you looked too, it made your face flush with all the compliments. You were half convinced he was putting on a front for the sake of your "date" but he shut that notion down quickly. He was serious about this whole thing and really just wanted to show you the good time you've been missing out on.

Ari let you pick the music like usual, maybe rolling his eyes jokingly at your choices but he never complains. He hadn't exactly told you where you were going since he wanted to surprise you but you trusted him. Butterflies immediately swarmed in your chest when he rested his free hand on your thigh while he was driving, fingers tracing little absentmind shapes on the skin. This is already going better than your other dates and he's only been here for a few minutes, you can't tell if that's sad or sweet.

You end up pulling up to the huge arcade in your city (if yall have a Round1 near you yk what I mean lol) you two have been here plenty of times before but it never gets old. Ari isn't much of a people person but he can tolerate the public long enough to make you happy, plus he gives off some scary dog privileges. He'd never let anyone fuck with you, especially when you're having such a good time. You two spend hours there but it only feels like minutes around him, you're both insanely competitive so a lot of that time is spent seeing who can score higher than the other at every game possible (usually it's him but he'll never let you know he let you win just so you'd keep that pretty smile on your face).

By the time you two are about to leave you've probably played every game in the place, and Ari won you a giant stuffed bunny out of one of those impossible claw machines cause you spent 20 minutes trying yourself before you slid over and let him try. He didn't have to try twice. You had your fingers laced in his on your way out and of course had to drag him into one of those cheesy photo booths. Half the frame was taken up by your giant stuffed animal but there was still just enough room to see the two of you. The first few pictures were just normal poses but on the last one Ari drug you in for a kiss, shocking the hell out of you but you really couldn't complain. It didn't feel forced or rushed and it wasn't just him trying to jam his tongue down your throat like certain people you knew. He was soft, the hand on your jaw gentle while he brushed his thumb against your cheek. Thank God these things had curtains cause it took no time to end up pulled into his lap so you could deepen the kiss with your arms around his neck.

Ari was the one to pull away first, not that he really wanted to but he really had to get you the fuck out of here before he fucked you raw in this cramped ass photo booth. You looked up at him with sad little seal eyes and he apologized heavily for making you stop, promising to make it up to you. He did in fact live up to his promise insanely quickly, thank God you parked far away from everyone else cause Ari couldn't wait long enough to get you home and really do this right. He'd have to make a point to get you in his bed next time but for now you're spread out in his backseat thankful for his barely legal window tint keeping everyone from seeing him splitting you open on his cock with his hand around your throat. He was panting praise and compliments into your ear through moans, making a point to remind you he loves you and he's not just doing this to get it over with. He'd never do his best friend wrong like that.

You didn't expect to end your night cumming on your best friends cock in the backseat of his car with your fingers laced together as he held your arms above your head but you definitely haven't had a date better than this.

[thorne-antics]

THE DRAGON PRINCE SEASON 5 SPOILERS

So... my thoughts on season 5!!

Episode 1: Domina Profundis

- so I'm assuming Callum and Rayla talked after the events of Escape From Umber Tor because I expected them to be still a little awkward but they're not, it looks like they're friends again and that makes me so happy!!

- why does Rayla need to take off the nails on the painting in front of the secret passageway? Can't Stella just make a portal to the other side of it?

- okay I hate Karim but did the sunfire elf guard really have to take his ring? I think Janai would've let him keep it. And the guard was like "it belongs to Queen Janai now" and then proceeded to drop it on the ground. Wtf bro

- Opeli telling Callum why Rayla was arrested and Callum being like "okay, so what?" will never not be funny to me

- Callum really said "it's okay she just got too silly"

Episode 2: Old Wounds

- their little conversation about trust... they're healing their relationship YIPPEE

- domina profundis looks so fucking cool I wish we saw more of her

- I now expect to see Barius invent a new pastry every season from here on out.

- CALLUM DOING PUPPY DOG EYES AT RAYLA GAVE ME SO MUCH SEROTONIN

- watching Soren, Ezran and Corvus laughing about shit jokes did give me slight secondhand embarrassment but surprisingly it was kind of funny. Definitely an upgrade from the god-awful fart jokes in season 4

- THIS IS ONLY EPISODE 2 AND ALREADY THEY'RE GOING HAM WITH THE RAYLLUM CONTENT. THEY SPENT THE NIGHT AT A COZY INN TOGETHER. AND THE BANTER BETWEEN THEM AFTERWARDS IS SO CUTE. ugh yes s5ep2 "Old Wounds" my beloved (Actually I love the whole first 4 episodes but we'll get to that later)

- "I know dark magic created this place, but it's a bridge between our two worlds, and now here we are, crossing it together" I'm screaming.

- the banther chase was so cool! I love the battle duo dynamic Rayla and Callum have going on, and the way the banther was animated looked awesome. (Also I find it hilarious how when Rayla's arrow hit the Banther, it literally got right back up but it was like "actually, fuck this" and just dipped)

- Viren's dream sequence with baby Soren ripped my heart out

Episode 3: Nightmares And Revelations

- Ezran literally befriended the entire dragon population except Sol Regem, Rex Igneous, and the archdragon of stars (if there is one) (no moon archdragon I'm pretty sure? Because the last one was Luna Tenebris and she died) and I love that for him

- Callum's reaction to finding out Amaya and Janai are engaged was priceless. I was so excitedly waiting to see that and it was everything I'd hoped for.

- THIS WHOLE CONVERSATION

They really said "Wanna do something foolish?" "Do you even have to ask?"

Episode 4: The Great Bookery

- Kazi you nerd I love you

- Amaya being the best aunt!!

- UGH THE RAYLLUM MONTAGE

- MMM YES CALLUM AND KAZI THE BOOKWORM DUO

- "I would do anything for you" oh. my. god.

- THIS WAS SO FUNNY

- BANTHER FIGHT BANTHER FIGHT BANTHER FIGHT

"Rayla, I was wrong. I waited too long. I hope you know--" "I know." UHM, I DON'T? WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT? (I'm guessing this is them saying "I love you" without saying it but I NEED TO KNOW FOR CERTAIN)

- The only reason Amaya and Corvus survived is because they hid in the book drop and Amaya thought to do that because Kazi pointed it out earlier so basically Kazi saved their lives. Good job Kazi.

- question: how the fuck did a fall from that height NOT kill Corvus? I'm glad he's not dead but HOW?

Episode 5: Archmage Akiyu

- "Oh no... You're making me the deciding vote, aren't you" Imao 😭

- Terry is such a good boyfriend.

- everyone's faces when the giant birds swoop down at them

I AM CACKLING

- Callum fistbumping Rayla... I will cherish this forever.

- Rayla asking Callum to push her into the water because she doesn't have the courage to jump in herself, Callum holding her hand as they dive in together instead... oh I'm sick. He's so patient and sweet and gentle with her I'm gonna cry

- the sheer amount of rayllum hand touches we're getting this season is incredibly satisfying

- Tidebound Tina/Archmage Akiyu is so silly. I like her a normal amount

- IT'S KIM'DAEL!!

Episode 6: Bait And Switch

- let Soren have the best lavender essential oils in all of Scumport he deserves it

- when Ezran goes to see Finnegrin and Callum stays outside and he says "it's fine I'll just get to know my new friend here" and Elmer says they aren't friends, Callum lets out this little giggle and it's the cutest thing. FOR WHAT? LITERALLY FOR WHAT

- I'm conflicted about Claudia fighting the dragon. I mean, slay, but also... I'm scared 😃

- BABY GLOW TOADS!!

Episode 7: Sea Legs

- I need to know what Bait said when he grunted and Ezran said "that's not very nice, Bait"

- "baby mage" Nyx I'm gonna have to stop you right there because I will not tolerate this falsehood and this slander towards my boy Callum

- I love how when the baby glow toad fell overboard, Nyx was like "I'll get it" and Callum was like "no I'll get it" and then there's Soren, who hollers "SORENBALL!" and just yeets himself in.

- Callum carrying the episode with his sky magic ugh yes (partially Soren too, for saving the baby glow toad, and Villads bc of course he's a great captain and the squad couldn't do this without him, but Callum is slaying I'm so proud of him)

- Amaya finding out Kim'Dael took Janai may have broken my heart just a little

Episode 8: Finnegrin's Wake

- IT'S CALLUM IN THE INTRO INSTEAD OF VIREN OH FUCK

- please excuse my excessive use of "fuck"

- they hurt my boy ☹️

- "I'm not gonna help you murder the archdragon of the ocean" "Murder? When you put it like that you make me sound like a bloodthirsty fiend" YOU LITERALLY ARE 💀

- Rayla screaming at Finnegrin to let Callum go when she sees that Callum got beat up... the pre-s5 speculation fanfic writers are probably losing their shit rn

- THIS IS MY FAVORITE SCENE IN THE WHOLE FUCKING SHOW. OH MY GOD.

I have never seen anyone more angry at any point in the entirety of this show than Callum is in this scene. He's been angry before, but rarely, and when he does, he remains level-headed. But then Finnegrin starts torturing Rayla, and that's what sets him off. And seeing a character like him, who's always been so sweet and gentle and kind, going absolutely fucking feral because someone hurt his loved one, is so satisfying to me. He loves her so much, the worst thing to him is seeing her suffering. I'm going insane over this.

- HE FUCKING UNLOCKED THE OCEAN ARCANUM. I'M SO PROUD OF HIM

- remember when he told Rayla "I'd do anything for you"? Yeah... (I'm totally writing a fanfic about this)

- if you couldn't tell, I fucking love Callum (this is probably the hundredth time I've said this)

Episode 9: Infantis Sanguine

- Callum looks so pretty here. He always looks pretty but MY GOD

- I'm gonna cry. The way he looks at Rayla like "Hey it's okay I'm right here with you :)" has me in a chokehold

- Rayla getting scared about being underwater and swimming back up to the surface and Callum immediately going after her to see if she was okay... no one fucking touch me

- I had no problem with Claudia at the start of the underwater fight but then she threatened Ezran and I was like "sweetie I can't defend you anymore"

- bruh they couldn't talk underwater anyway so what the fuck was the point of threatening Ezran to make him talk?

- I know it's a fantasy cartoon and the logic doesn't matter but RAYLA SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SHOOT THOSE ARROWS SO PERFECTLY WHILE UNDERWATER.

- Aaravos has been in ONE EPISODE this season and nearly every speaking line he has is so sus

- I always hated Viren because him manipulating and gaslighting his kids reminded me of my dad who I haven't spoken to for 3 years now, and I've had to accept that he's never going to change, but I'm glad Viren has changed and I'm proud of him

- so... Viren dead? Viren not dead? Fuck if I know! Find out in 8 months!

okay, my final ranking of all the seasons so far: this one comes out on top, then below it is season 3, then season 2, and at the bottom, season 1 and 4 are tied. And I'm so excited for season 6. Thank you and goodnight.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Two.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,944

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

January 23rd, 2016. Cleveland, NY. 

The soft patter of snow, the contented snorting of horses as they ate their breakfast and the clucking of hens. These were the only noises that reached Adrien’s ears as he enjoyed a peaceful morning in his studio, standing back from the large canvas he was working on, deciding where to begin as he drank his tea. Until he heard a third, the studio door opening behind him.  

“How’s Saxon’s hoof looking this morning, baby love?”  

Her beloved Friesian horse, a black giant with a mane that touched his shoulder, had been lame for a week. The root cause? An infected hoof that needed drawing with a poultice twice daily, the stench of the black gunk that ended up in the special hoof boot the foulest thing he’d ever smelled. Poor Mia. She was bereft without her playmate out there in the paddock with her, too, kicking up her heels in the snow with no buddy to charge around with since Saxon was on stable rest. 

“Jade?”  

Turning, he saw her moving towards him, her eyes glazed over, mouth hanging slightly agape. “Honey, you look a little...” he trailed off, trying to catch her eye. Nothing. It was as if somebody had reached in and removed her brain, replacing it with a slow-moving hamster on a wheel.  “Are you okay?”  

The lights were on, but Jade Brody was not home.  

“Moo, before I have to shake you?”  

As it turned out, she was capable of shaking herself. “Sorry, baby. I just... I’m...” 

He nodded, winding his hand in a circular motion. “Those are some words. Care to add a few more?” 

“I... I...” She was still partially stuck in daze mode, so stunned, she had truly been rendered speechless. “I just heard the Oscars nominations, and Five Marked Men more or less swept the board.” 

“It did?” he spoke, his face brightening. “Well, of course it fucking did. It’s an amazing movie!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” she continued, “best picture, best original score, best production design, best director, best actor nomination to Robert De Niro, and best actress in a supporting role nomination... to me.”  

His eyes almost fell out of his head. “Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, Jade! This is huge! Oh, my god, come here!” He threw his arms around her, lifting her up, laughing with utter delighted joy. “I’m so proud of you, Burtie!”  

Finally, she began to smile, but still looked to be in a state of shock. “How... how the hell did I do this? I can’t even... it isn’t processing!”  

He remembered that well. “It didn’t with me either. I remember hearing I’d been nominated and thinking they’d made a mistake, had the biggest case of imposter syndrome right up until I was actually walking towards the stage to accept the award.”  

“Yeah, yeah but you’re an amazing actor who had seventeen years of this behind him when he won! I’m just some bird from Tottenham who shouts a lot and decided to do this on a whim one day!” 

He raised an eyebrow. “One day about, hmm, seventeen years ago this year?” 

“Bloody hell.” 

“I am so proud of you, baby love,” he spoke, placing her back down and giving her a huge kiss. 

“Bloody hell!” 

“Are we stuck on bloody hell mode?” he teased, his wife’s mouth dropping open, closing, and then repeating all over again. 

“Bloody hell.” 

He couldn’t keep his laughter in, not able to remember a time he’d seen her look more stunned than she did right at that moment. “Burtie, your ass is ringing.”  

Shaking herself, she pulled her phone out, putting it on speaker. There wasn’t even chance to say hello before the verbal explosion hit her.  

“Skippy! You fucking superstar, oh my fucking god I am screaming!” 

“As I hear,” she just about got chance to say, Jen’s excitement vibrating the speaker of her iPhone.  

“Congratulations! I swear, you’ve won it, it’s you! You were perfect in that movie, made a tough ole’ boot like me cry, y’know? Made me feel all the damned emotions, so yeah, and I’m blabbing but I can’t think straight because my best fucking friend got nominated for an Oscar and oh my god!” 

“Jen, my ears, darlin’?” she was just about able to make out, the sound of a slightly deafened Nick in the background. “Jade! Congrats, babe! This one here hasnae been able to stop screaming about it yet!” 

“As I hear, mate!” she laughed, she and Adrien leaving the studio and walking back around to the house, hand in hand.  

“Ahh, well I’ll leave you and the missus to it, like. Gotta head out in all this bastard fucking snow and buy milk because my fucking wifey here cannae remember shite! Laters, hon.” 

Yes, a few things were different in her surrounding world, one of the main changes being that Jen had finally met Mr Right. Nick Anderson had come into her life as a brand-new drum tech two years prior, when the girls had embarked on another world tour back in twenty fourteen, the pair hitting it off so well that they’d ended up together quite quickly. Two impossibly energetic people with huge, lovely personalities who thrived on beating the hell out of a drumkit. They were perfect for one another and had married just eight months before right there at Stone Barn Castle.  

Originally hailing from the small skiing town of Aviemore in Scotland, he’d moved out to America ten years before with the first Mrs. Anderson, their marriage not lasting for long after the move. A number of factors had put the death knell upon it, the main one being what was actually a draw to Jen; he didn’t want children. Neither did she, no matter how much she genuinely adored small people, they just weren’t for her.  

Speaking of small people, Jade had to get moving pretty soon after entering the house and having another coffee, still reeling from the shock news but having a full day ahead of her. Her sister, her husband Chris and their two children were coming up to stay for a few days, Jade tasked with driving to Syracuse to collect them from the airport.  

While that coffee was sipped at, she was studied, Jade catching his eye across the island. “What?” 

“Are you going to be okay to drive? Because I know the snow isn’t too bad and the roads are clear and all that, but I’m kinda anxious you might space out and end up wrapping your car around a tree. I neither want a banged-up wife nor for her to smash the hell out of her new ride.” He’d rather she didn’t either, not just because he obviously didn’t want an injured wife on his hands, but damn, a custom detailed Audi Q7 did not come cheap. 

She paused, narrowing her eyes over the steam emitting her coffee cup. “You care more about the car than me, don't you? Dented wife you can handle. Dented wallet, not so much.” 

“Damn,” he fumed playfully, clicking his fingers, “she got me.” Lifting his chin, the entertainment played on his face, guffawing when he raised her middle finger. “Oh, don’t be like that, baby love. With your goddamned talons.” 

She’d decided to give herself a manicure, her own fairly short nails all hidden beneath the long, pointy claws glued on and painted a neutral shade of nude pink. “You didn’t complain about them when they were buried in your back last night.” 

“Nope, you know I like a little scratching. I’m still nervous about them coming near my junk, though.” Nervous was somewhat of an understatement. When she’d shown him her literal handiwork, the first words out of his mouth had been ‘there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near my dick with those. No way. I’m already circumcised; I ain’t looking to lose any more.’ She’d made sure to be very careful while handling the goods later the previous night, yet he’d still flinched a few times.  

At least the animals of the Brody household appreciated the fact that their mom now came with the best scratching implements, though, the cats thriving, the dogs enjoying an ear scratch, and Mia and Saxon both appreciating the scritches they’d received that morning as she’d groomed them both.  

Making a flexing motion with her hand, she aimed it at his crotch, walking around the island to him, Adrien reversing at speed. “Stop this, no, Jade!” 

“I can be gentle. See?” she spoke, grabbing his arm and gently raking her nails over the bulge in his jeans. “See? It’s all tickly on your balls. He likes. Look at the face!”  

He still looked a little uncomfortable, finally relaxing when he did realise it wasn’t unpleasant. “Mmm. Prefer your mouth.” Leaning to her, his lips met hers, grumbling happily as their tongues entwined, feeling his cock beginning to stir. “How much time do you have before you leave?” 

“Not enough for what you’re thinking, so you’re going to have to simmer, Mr. B.” 

He bit her lip with an annoyed growl. “Cock tease.” 

“Well, you knew this right from the moment we first met,” she reasoned, patting his abs and picking up her bag. “You can wait until later.” 

More growling. “Not even five minutes? There’s a lot a man can achieve in five minutes.”  

She paused, thoughtful, moving his hair and kissing the side of his neck. He’d grown it long, and god, how she loved it. “Save it for later.” Running her nails over his chest, she tickled his cock again, trailing them down to his thighs and then around to his bum before ascending his back once more, leaving him quivering. “Because later, I will follow everywhere my nails just went with my tongue.”  

Kissing him again, she left him standing there burning, muttering to himself. He had thought that perhaps the sexual magic of her might wane a little after just over six years together, but it truly showed no signs of abating. True, they weren’t all over one another quite as often as they had been right in the fledgling stages of their relationship, but mostly that was because of their careers putting distance between them.  

The fact that they couldn’t be together all of the time seemed to have kept the spark burning very brightly, he had to note. Even when she made his flicker and then walked away, just as she’d done that morning. He knew her game, though, getting him all amped up so it’d be in the back of his head all day. While she departed, he went down to the stables, a saddle and bridle in his arms, approaching a very happy looking Mia. 

“Yes, we’re going out. Come on, pretty face. Back up.” Moving her away from her stable door as he entered, he placed the saddle onto the door itself, putting her bridle on first. Between Jade herself and Bob when they were at their house in England, over the past few years he’d grown to become quite a competent horseman, even buying one for himself.  

Shamrock, also known as ‘that bastard animal’ lived over the other side of the pond in England, a huge, seventeen hands high former racehorse Adrien had found and loved, despite his predisposition to misbehave. He’d lost count of the number of times the nine-year-old steed had bolted with him, but if anything, it had made him a much more competent rider, having to get used to something so whip smart and predisposed to acting out.  

Riding Mia was a completely different ballgame, though, the horse more like a well-behaved sofa, as he often likened her. She was impeccably mannered and comfortable as hell to ride, Adrien jumping onto her back and gathering the reins, whistling for his dogs. It’d be a nice, sedate ride, not having to wonder about when the horse he was aboard was about to start huffing and puffing, jogging around or rearing up, all of which he did with Sham. Mia remained as much of a lamb as always. 

By the time his wife had returned, he was freshly showered and thawed out, coming into the kitchen as they were entering, having his favourite tiny person running for him as soon as she spotted him. 

“Uncle Adween!” At only fifteen months old, Stevie was still getting used to speech, some words beyond her grasp. Even her own name.  

“Beevs!” he laughed, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek, blowing a raspberry that had her squealing. She was commonly known at Beevs, Beevie or The Beev, being that she couldn’t pronounce Stevie. Jade she could say properly, but to her was aunt shouty, pronounced more as ‘showteeeee’. It still cracked him up. “How are you?” 

“Is cold and I no like it,” she told him, cuddling into his warmth as he greeted Chris with a one-armed hug.  

“Oh look, see look at this, being all cute for your uncle when you were a monster on the flight!” he spoke, shaking his head. 

“I no monsfer! I cute!” Oh yes, she was. Until she wasn’t. Until she was, as her father coined it, doing her best tiny Lucifer impersonation.  

“Kid, you are hell in a dress,” Rachel spoke, greeting Adrien with a big hug and kiss. “Look at this hair, bro! Woah! Suits you,” she then added, giving his curls a little comb with her fingers.  

“Thanks, Rach,” he replied, before having his ear bended by the incessant chatter of his tiny niece, his nephew Reece thumping against his leg after running for him, Adrien bending to lift him onto his other arm.  

“Can we go see the horses, uncle Adrien? Please?” At four, his speech was flawless, making his demands known in very good voice. “Please, please, please?” 

“Hey, quit nagging, tiny,” his mother advised, pinching his cheek, “we only just got here and already you’re starting with the overlord antics.” 

Reece looked thoughtful, cuddling his uncle, hiding beneath his hair. “But can we?” 

“And the chances of you shutting up until I say yes are?” he asked. 

The child made a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger. “This much!” 

Replicating the gesture, he smiled, kissing his head. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

While her husband ventured back out with the kids, her sister and brother-in-law heading upstairs to get situated in one of the guest bedrooms, Jade made a start on lunch, chopping vegetables and taking the pre-shredded roasted chicken she’d cooked the previous night from the fridge, chicken noodle soup on the menu. Once they’d eaten, the kids were once again full of energy and soup, tearing around the garden with their daddy and uncle, Jade and Rachel watching from beside the fire in the kitchen.  

“He’s great with them,” the latter spoke, nodding at where Adrien was assisting with the building of a snowman. “He’ll make an amazing daddy someday.” 

Jade hummed, her mouth tilting upwards. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.” 

Oh, how she loved to just casually drop such news into conversation. “Oh my god, really? You didn’t tell me!” her sister cried, reaching to slap her knee playfully a few times. “Since when?” 

“Not long,” she confessed, sipping her latte. “I stopped taking my pill in October, but between not seeing him and never working out when I’m ovulating with any kind of accuracy, it hasn’t happened for us just yet.” 

“Don’t expect it to either,” Rachel warned lightly with a pointed finger, “I know we’re a fertile people, but still, it was seven months of trying for us before I got pregnant with Reece.” 

A fertile people was an understatement, with how fast their mother had become pregnant, and the rate their uncle’s had populated the family with their cousins, fifteen of them in total. Rachel herself had become pregnant with Stevie remarkably quickly, too. Well, it had been Stevie and her twin, but sadly the foetus had died at only a few weeks in. 

“Oh no, I’m not. We’re being fairly casual about it all, more like if it happens soon then great, but we’re not putting any pressure on ourselves.” Jade confirmed with a casual wave of her hand.  

While she and Adrien weren’t in a hurry, for years they’d been the focus of the public and media wondering why year after year passed and they hadn’t decided to have children. Truly, it was nobody else’s business, why they’d chosen to focus on their careers and their marriage before adding children to the equation, and that was the simple truth of the matter. People could think whatever the hell they liked, and usually it was a million miles from the truth.  

‘I will never understand why it is that society puts this enormous pressure upon couples to procreate within a certain time frame, or at all. It’s a perfectly valid choice to remain child free if that’s what you both want. My husband and I do want children one day, but us not starting a family yet is seen as something alien, that we desire to devote our time to each other and our careers. We’re both still young, we have plenty of time, yet our stance is seen as abnormal for some reason.’ 

Those were the words she gave in an interview just a year before when speaking with the journalist about the fact that they’d been child free for the duration of their five years, as it was at the time. The woman speaking with her was in staunch agreement, too, that the societal pressures for married couples to have children with an expected time frame was quite frankly ridiculous.  

“I have to say though, Rach,” Jade began, her eyebrows fluttering as a smile spread across her lips. “That baby making sex does hit different.” 

“Right?” her sister chimed, nodding vigorously. “Always does with men. Procreation horny is different, and I can’t explain why, but it is!” 

“Sends ‘em feral,” she agreed, looking out at Adrien approvingly. “All I have to say to him is, ‘get over here and put a baby in me’ and the speed he moves at,” she giggled, making a rapid motion with her finger coupled with a sharp whistle, Rachel in soft fits.  

“Oh, one thing, though? If you do start to seriously begin tracking your ovulation, don’t make it all about the baby making when you do have sex, because the novelty of it can wear off quickly and it becomes really focused on the procreation part, rather than the enjoyment. That put a dent in us for a while, back when we were trying to conceive Reece.” 

“Becomes a little mechanical, huh?” 

Rachel pointed, crossing her legs as she sat back in the armchair, Salem jumping onto her lap. “Yes, that’s exactly it and trust me, big sis. It dampens the spark as much as a few gallons of cold water.”  

Her advice was noted.  

“If you do want to go down that road, though, use an ovulation tracker app. Just put your details in, date of your last period, etc, and it calculates it all for you and then sends an alert when you start ovulating. Here, this is the one I used.”  

Taking her sister’s phone, she had a look at it, picking up her phone and downloading it before entering all of her info. “Oh blimey,” she exclaimed, resting a hand to her chest, “right now until tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, there you have it, but please, get those eggs fertilized quietly. I cannot with hearing the acoustics of my sister having sex. Not again.” 

Jade winked, flashing a grin of teeth. “I make no promises.” 

“Bleugh. Deviant.”  

“You have no idea,” she teased, Rachel’s eyes widening. 

“I fucking do! Mom told me all about the hook!” 

It might have happened five years ago, but god, how it still made her laugh. She couldn’t be in the kitchen pantry without having a little snort, remembering Adrien hiding in there after being stalked by her mother. “You have no idea how embarrassed he was. He’s so cute! He can be an absolute beast in the bedroom, and you just wouldn’t think it because he’s so quiet and nice.”  

“I’d rather not think of my brother-in-law like that at all.” she shuddered, sending her sister into another fit of giggles. Beyond a few little inquiries back when they first got together, Rachel was definitely more like her father where the topic of sex was concerned.  

Marco, on the other hand, had wanted to know everything. ‘So, what’s he packing? How many inches? Cut or uncut? Don’t you dare be holding out on me! I have to know the dick details! I’ve fantasised about this man!’ Yes, her brother had definitely been more uncouth at the time. He also flirted shamelessly with Adrien whenever he saw him, who took it all in his stride.  

Changing the subject, they instead talked more about their lives, Rachel once again relaying just how proud she was, that her beloved big sister had been nominated for an Oscar. Even hours after it had been announced, the news was still yet to sink in any further. Later that night, the house quiet, everyone in bed and Jade sitting up being her usual night owl self, it still hadn’t.  

“Baby love? You okay?”  

She had gone to bed, but that had been at 1am. After riding her husband into the bed and sending him into a deep sleep, she’d struggled dropping off at his side. Apparently, the sleep he’d found hadn’t been deep enough not to notice when she’d gotten up quietly half an hour later.  

“Yeah, gorgeous. Yeah, I’m fine. Just can’t seem to switch my brain off,” she replied, Adrien moving behind where she sat at the island on her laptop, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m still struggling to believe it’s real.” 

He could identify with that. “It’ll sink in, eventually. You have to know you’ve earned it, though, don’t you? Seriously, I’m not just saying it but I think it’s your best role to date. You deserve it.” Kissing her cheek, he rested her chin to his shoulder, looking at the screen. “Remember when I used to tell you, when we were going through never ending shit, how it’d get better? Well, better is here. It’ll be even better if you buy that underwear in black, too. Use my card.” 

In times of feeling a little out of sorts, whether good or bad, she shopped. On that particular night, it was the Bordelle website, her favourite lingerie brand. “It only comes in gold or dark blue. Which would you rather I’m wearing while you come in me?”  

Her dirty wit. How he loved it. “Definitely blue.” Reaching for the bowl of keys and general things to the side of the island, he grabbed his Amex card, handing it to her with a kiss. His eyes were then distracted by the next page. “Get those, too. Oh damn, and that.” 

“In red?” 

His smile widened. “Mm.”  

“Is this getting you all horny again?” 

Wrapping his arms around her again, she felt the evidence press against her spine. How the hell he was still so down to fuck at the drop of a hat – or the sight of sexy underwear, as it was – at nearly forty-two, she didn’t know. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly past it just yet, still young, but even still. He had the refresh rate of a guy half his age. She wasn’t averse to it, though. Obviously. 

After all, they had a baby to make.