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#maya x josh
gmwships · 2 years
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midnightwrriting · 28 days
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Excuse me? 🎀🎾
You look like you love me......
Love struck m.list
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"Excuse me, you look like you love me"
It's been months since Maya and Art started to become friends, and things have been building.
They were in his car when her favorite song came on. Her little southern accent came out as she started singing. He glanced at her as he drove that small smirk on his lips as he watched her sing.
"You look like you want me to want you to come on home"
Her hands hit her leg as she tapped to the beat. Art couldn't help but blush hearing her sing. She had a beautiful voice and he loved it. Especially when her accent came out.
They were at a stop light when she did a little dance in the seat. She glanced at him every now and then. Her hair fell around her softly as she moved. Art smiled, watching her feeling his heart fill with so much warmth.
"And baby, I don't blame you for looking me up and down across this room"
She leaned over, singing to him. It was her favorite thing to do. Yes, they were friends, but her singing this song meant other things to her.
She laughed lightly with art as they made eye contact. The light turns green, letting him keep driving. His ears still filled with her soft voice, and her little twang could still be heard.
"And you think to yourself, I could use some of that"
She let her eyes linger on art as he drove a soft smile on her lips, and she took his features in.
The song ended and she turned the volume back down. "Wow, beautiful beautiful" Art chuckled with a smile.
"What can I say it's a good song," she said with a shrug and a proud smile.
Art glanced at her as she looked out the window "yeah it is"
Art thought of the lyrics that lingered in his head....what he though of her....
"When then cute little country girl caught my eye....she was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen in a pair of boots"
He did a quick glance at her seeing her boots on. The lyrics fit a little too well, which makes his heart melt. How he wished he could reach out for her and tell her all his love for her.
While Maya looked out the window, smiling to herself as she in a way sang her heart to art without telling him directly. She was okay with that for the moment but didn't know how much longer she could last as 'just friends'
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Art and his little country girl ♡
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userlaylivia · 10 months
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i really need to do a girl meets world rewatch so badly it's been years but idk where to watch ugh back when I watched I was against lucaya and 100℅ rucas/joshaya/riarkle but after watching clips and stuff I think I might ship lucaya now like I'd have to rewatch to know 100℅ but I'm older now and I've changed my opinions on so many ships the last two years!! I just discussed not liking l/m a little bit ago with two mutuals but that's based on my opinions from like 2017 when the show ended but no matter if I ship lucaya now or not, nothing will surpass my love for rucas/joshaya/riarkle!! or rilaya for that matter!! I know this isn't important but yeah lol I might reblog some gmw here soon because I miss it and wish it didn't get cancelled!!
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captainsavre · 7 months
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🚨 SOUND THE ALARM NINETEEN 🚨
Get your gear and come fight the fight with me, fan family!
Let’s make our voices heard and faces seen, let’s show the world we’re not messing around and our love and fight for Station 19 is real and we’re not giving up! ❤️‍🔥
I really hope I can pull this thing off… my original idea was to have it ready for the premiere week but truth is I’ve been struggling a lot since we got the news and my motivation has been pretty low, plus I’m a very slow editor and my work schedule is crazy. But I’ve felt inspired by all your fabulous art, edits and words and since we got that extra boost this past week by Danielle Savre’s post, my motivation gained a new level and realized that I shouldn’t give up the fight and finally decided to give my contribution.
So here is what I need you to do:
- Record a very short video, using your merch (if you want or if you own any) looking into the camera for a few seconds. No speaking in here please, just a 5 second video of your face.
- Record a very short video or videos saying what Station 19 means to you. Again it has to be short and concise like “Station 19 is family”, “Station 19 is home”, Station 19 is love”, “Station 19 is representation”. You can record as many of these as you want and you can also do it in your mother tongue. The more variety of statements and languages, the better 😊
- Record a video saying “Save Station 19”. It can also be in your mother tongue.
- You can do them all, or only one or two of the options, that’s totally up to you. But all videos should be, preferably, horizontal oriented.
- Send your videos to [email protected] with your name and country.
I really hope I won’t let you guys down!!! NINETEEN ❤️‍🔥
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lysteriaposts · 2 years
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"What I observed about you... is that you're the best friend anyone could ever have. Maybe it's because your dad left, maybe it's because you've never felt that love.
But it gave you the greatest capacity for love I've ever seen."
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ald3r-wolfcak3 · 1 year
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I have been brainstorming the ssl rewrite thing, so there is the love interest plot line;
For Lisa, I want to keep Josh. The og Josh and make him emo. Blond hair, chain on his said with emo makeup and writing Miscreants lyrics on his converse. He and Lisa are classmates and since Lisa's fav band is the Miscreants she immedietly notice the lyrics. As they start talking, Josh tell her he can play on guitar and they agree to work on music together. For sexuality I would also add Lisa is bisexual.
For Linda, I want no love interest. I don't feel she needs one. She has some crushes here and there, also could be bicurious due some sceme Sabine pulled off. But as someone who working for the school paper, doing extra projects and try to solve the big mistery of Jorvik has no time for love.
Anne is a lesbian and no one (expect her friends) know this. She has shit tons of "secret admire" she always got little love notes, time to times chocolates and flowers in her locker. There also was a rumor about her and Derek, the young "model photograpger". She used to adate with Alex, but due to some missunderstanding they broke up and trying to be only friends.
So Alex, well everybody knows he gay as fuck. In some point the whole school was sure she would end up with Jessica, but in reality she tried to help Anne. She still in love with Anne, but feel extreamly angry. They have this lovers to enemies to friends dynamic and she wants the lovers part back!
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sirensisterhood · 1 year
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If lilith and maya had a rivals to lovers relationship
Lilith:you have to won up me all the time? Wha-what do you just get your jollies making me look dumb?
Maya : Who said I think you're dumb? Maybe I happen to think you're very smart! Maybe I just...
Lilith : Maybe you just what?
Maya : Maybe I just like you!
Lilith : Maybe I just like you too!
Maya : Oh, really?
Lilith: Yeah. Maybe I've liked you for a really long time, but I didn't realize it 'cause I hated you so much!
Maya: Are you saying you like me or not?
Lilith : Are you saying you like *me* or not?
Maya: I'm saying I like you!
Lilith : Well, I'm sayin' I like *you*!
Maya: Fine!
Lilith : Fine!
Maya : Then I guess we're girlfriend and girlfriend!
Lilith : One condition!
Maya : What?
Lilith : I get to be Girlfriend!
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loveofstelena · 6 days
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Multicouples • loml x You're Losing Me
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gmwships · 2 years
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midnightwrriting · 3 months
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Maya and Art first study session/meeting
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Art looked over in the library, seeing a familiar pale face, a girl from his math class sitting with her head in her hands, seeming frustrated and angry. He slowly walked up to her nervously. "Hey, excuse me?" His voice soft and raspy from the hours of studying.
She looks up seeing the blonde boy. He wore a standford hoodie with tennis team written under it and black shorts. "Hi?" She says, wondering what he needed.
"I saw you were struggling, and well, I'm in the same class as you. I've seen you in there before and thought I could offer you help, " he stammered over his words, his nerves getting the best of him.
Maya smiles, leaning onto the table more than before, her red hair falling onto the desk due to its length. "How do you know I was struggling with math. I could've been struggling with something else, " she says, wanting to mess with him. Art didn't know how to respond, now feeling like he was being a creep. He rubbed the back of his neck for a second, finding words before she spoke up again. "I'm kidding. It is math," she pauses, smiling and watching as he smiles himself. "I would love your help." Her voice is so soft and sweet like a sugary snack late at night.
Art chuckled at her comment, then pulled the seat out that was in front of her. "Great," pausing for a moment to get his things back out. "I'm Art, by the way." he reaches out a hand. She smiles, taking his "I know." she has a soft smirk on her lips. Making him blush.
"I'm Maya," her voice playful and still smooth. Art returns her playful smirk. "I know." they share a look before Art gets pulled back to reality, reaching for his notebook he spoke up. "So where do you need my help?" She smiles, looks down, flips through her notebook.
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《•☆•☆•》
I think I'm going to start posting blurbs from my oc and art 🎀🎾
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josephinekhawaja · 2 years
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Finding it funny the Previously On for last week's episode was literally Emil Versus Josh...
As a breakdown video put it, "'They've framed that in this whole thing -- 'Hey, there's like only two things that matter here, Blonsky and this creep.'"😅😂 Though not as funny as the fandom collectively falling for Joshie when this entire episode was set up 10 Days before the show dropped. I knew not to trust that MF -- it was Doctor Arthur that threw me off💔. Thought he would be the decent one this season, I did not see that coming. Lesson to learn in this show -- do not place any bets on any male love interests.🤣🤣. It seems that now everybody is placing their hopes on Matty, but he is supposed to be a love interest for Maya Lopez as well, and I could see him just backflipping out of Jen's life by season's end. I do not expect anything between them more than short-term, though I hope long-term they can be besties because superpowered lawyer friends👨‍⚖️👩🏽‍⚖️.
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captainsavre · 7 months
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🚨 LINE UP NINETEEN 🚨
📢 We had enough, we need to be heard and seen, once and for all. Join me and add your faces and voices to this project and let’s show the world we’re not giving up and our love and fight for Station 29 is real.
So here is what I need you to do:
- Record a very short video, using your merch (if you want or if you own any) looking into the camera for a few seconds. No speaking in here please, just a 5 second video of your face.
- Record a very short video or videos saying what Station 19 means to you. Again it has to be short and concise like “Station 19 is family”, “Station 19 is home”, Station 19 is love”, “Station 19 is representation”. You can record as many of these as you want and you can also do it in your mother tongue. The more variety of statements and languages, the better 😊
- Record a video saying “Save Station 19”. It can also be in your mother tongue.
- You can do them all, or only one or two of the options, that’s totally up to you. But all videos should be, preferably, horizontal oriented.
- If you’re not comfortable with showing your face, you can only send the audio.
- You have until March 8 to send your recordings with your name and country to [email protected] so I can have it ready for the premiere week.
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jakeyt · 7 months
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Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 2)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great. 
Was. 
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your life—your home. 
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; depression; feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; suuuuper sore boobs; negative self-talk (stretch marks specifically); talk of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones...things get heatedddd; reader and jake are both stubborn + turned on, but can't be together and it's TOUGH; cheating; heavy petting; rubbing of bodies against each other (see: dry humping); hands on boobs oopsies (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter Word Count: 16.7k+
a/n: hi babes… <3 this is my personal favorite part out of the two… so, let me know how you feel… ;) love u all. busy day! i'm so sorry it's late. plz know i love you all sm <3
s/o to @joshym who is my favorite and the most wonderful encourager and sister in the entire universe. i love you more than i can say. you make life sunny and everything better <3
also, @alwaysonthemend, i love you so incredibly much and i’m so grateful for you and your unwavering support and texts that never fail to make my day <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-🌼🌼🌼-
“The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.”
-Thomas Adams
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 25, 2022
Friendsgiving. A standing, solid tradition since the first Thanksgiving you’d spent as Josh’s friend. It had always been you, Elsie, Josh, Sam, and Daniel.
But this year, you’d be entertaining new people. One you were incredibly grateful for. Jake. And one you weren’t even slightly sure about.
Maya.
She was the last person you wanted to celebrate a holiday all about Thankfulness with. But, you had to. Stupid ass shit that you couldn’t control, so you had to just pretend to be fine with it. 
To your benefit, you had a distraction – a fantastic, welcome one in Elsie. Elsie and a morning of grocery shopping.
For Friendsgiving, in a group chat between you two and the rest of the boys, Elsie had insisted that you two be in charge of pies. So, you two were currently wandering the aisles of Walmart with Pinterest up, recipes open to several flavors of pies that Elsie had decided the two of you should make.
And the way to make homemade crust since she refused to use store bought. 
“It will be a fun thing to try,” she’d sworn, aggressively pinning a couple to your shared board.
You were the one in charge of grabbing things off the shelves, while she pushed the cart and bossed at you what to grab for each recipe. The makings for apple pie and pumpkin pie already rumbled around in the cart. So, now you were on to the final pies and their ingredients. The few cans of cherry pie filling had just landed in the cart when Elsie decided to confront you about Jake. 
“What’s going on between you and Lover Boy?” She asked, trying to sound absentminded in her question, but you knew she was not thinking of it randomly. She’d most definitely waited for a moment to hit you with the question when you were forced to respond. 
And, you were. You were currently completely stranded at a Walmart with only her and one car to get you back to the apartment. There was no escaping the question. So, you decided to do what you could and only answer halfway.
“Well, he knows,” you started, grabbing a bag of sugar off the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “And things are going good.”
“What a vague response,” she hummed. “Why don’t you grab a couple cans of blueberry filling and hit me with full honesty.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the can and turned to face her. A blush painted your cheeks that you couldn’t avoid. “I am being honest. He knows and things are good.”
“Yeah, that answer works for a random Joe, but not your sister. I’m not here for the fucking cliff notes.”
“I don’t care what you’re ‘here for’, Elsie,” you grumbled, turning to walk ahead of her toward the flour. “And why didn’t you ask me this yesterday when we had the entire day at Grandma and Grandpa’s?”
“It didn’t really feel like the right time to ask,” she defended, pointing to a particular bag of flour, which you grabbed and put in the cart. “I also didn’t want to stop talking about the ridiculous fangirl experience because that shit was hilarious,” she paused, gasping. “Oh! Speaking of fangirls and the other guys. . . When are you planning on telling Josh? I'm dying to start planning a baby shower and I want him to help me.”
“He didn’t tell you that I told him before my first–?”
“You told him?!” She asked, astonished. The cart squeaked to a halt behind you. 
Turning around with a laugh ready at your lips, you gawked at her. “What is wrong with you, Dramatic Ass?”
“Um,” she sharply started, hand on a hip. “My sister and my boyfriend are keeping me in the dark, that’s what’s wrong.”
“Josh is busy and I’m busy,” you responded slowly. “We’re not 'keeping you in the dark'. Also, he just found out a few weeks ago. It’s not like he’s known for–.”
“A few weeks?!”
You swiveled fully around to face her completely. “Els. Josh has never been one to talk about other people and their lives to shoot the breeze. You know this. He wasn’t going to bring it up if it didn’t concern him.”
“Well, it does. It concerns both of us. Aunt and uncle? Hello?”
“It’s also just a giant ass thing that I’m sure he’s still processing,” you argued. “Give him a fucking break.”
“I’m bringing this up to him,” she stubbornly stated, huffing and everything. “I’m going to make him own up to not telling me he knew.”
“You knew and didn’t tell him,” you reminded her. 
“That’s different; you didn’t want me to tell him.”
“And what if he thought I didn’t want you guys talking about it at all? He’s very sensitive to stuff of that nature.”
“I don’t know. I’m still asking him,” she firmly stated, continuing to push the cart forward, effectively ending the conversation with her tone. 
And, much to your joy, dropping the other part of the conversation as she went on a sassy rant about something Josh had done recently that pissed her off. 
It lasted all the way home and you were damn happy. . .
Although, you did have to work a little magic to get her to stop being such an over-thinker and asshole when it came to Josh. You had to give a plentiful amount of examples as to how he was all of these amazing things wrapped in one and not the person her mind was trying to convince her that he was. 
She had trauma and abandonment issues, too. . . she just didn't always show them like you.
But. . . it made you pause. Made you think of yourself and Jake. . . . your mind went to the clouds as you thought of your feelings towards him. You were still like this as you helped her carry in groceries, and only snapped out of it when she started bossing you again. Except this time, she was annoyingly giving you jobs around the kitchen to prepare the blessed pies.
-🌼🌼🌼-  
Jake had been the main chef for Friendsgiving.
All day, the apartment smelled heavenly thanks to his wondrous cooking. He'd started way early in the morning, and had awoken you with the incredible smells. . . but you had forced yourself to lay in bed rather than going about your morning routine. Truthfully, you really hadn't had to force yourself too much as you heard Maya's voice make unwelcome waves around the apartment through your door. You weren't in the mood for any of it this morning considering last night. Last night, when you'd seen him and Maya. . . . . Yeah, you'd still been in the process of blocking that the fuck out.
So, you'd only caught a little glimpse of him buzzing around the kitchen before Elsie and Josh had shown up. At which point, Elsie had been ready to hit Wally World.
But, now that you were back, you'd noticed that he'd taken charge of a few very important tasks. He'd roasted a giant turkey in the oven, made rolls and mashed potatoes from scratch, and a delicious gravy to accompany all of his dishes. Josh had been in charge of casseroles, and the other two hooligan men had been in charge of drinks and salad (a big bag of lettuce from Walmart with a bottle of Ranch and a plastic container of cherry tomatoes). 
Maya had been in charge of nothing, claiming via Jake that she would be helping him. But all day long, she’d just sat around, looking way too stupidly pretty, and watched him cook. Lazy ass. 
While you and Elsie slaved away at dessert, thankfully Jake was done with his preparations (save for the turkey that still cooked and created the most appetizing aroma). Meaning that Maya had followed him and wasn’t looming in the background as you made pie.
Which was good because you really did not need her around you any more than she had to be.
As you made pie after pie and sat them on top of the oven to go in once the turkey came out, you filled Elsie in on everything else that had taken place in your life as of late. Told her about the emergency room visit and everything you’d found out at the E.R.; how you’d come up with a solid morning routine to attempt a healthier pregnancy; and any intricate therapy detail that came to mind. 
The boys had been sitting in the living room, playing music on a few guitars (Josh, filling up the apartment with old Elvis tunes). Then, opting to talk for the majority of the time.
So, you'd been able to gain precious time with your sister. She had encouraged you and supported you just like you knew she would. She’d also gotten onto you for not taking better care of yourself and not taking prenatal vitamins sooner.
“You fucking idiot,” she laughed, bumping your shoulder with hers as she passed you in the kitchen with the last pie. “No, but really. I’m sorry that you’d been so stressed and overwhelmed to the point of forgetting to do shit like that. I wish I’d lived closer to you for the beginning of it all.”
Your ears perked up at that. “Yeah. . . Me too,” you said slyly, considering options as they filtered through your head. “What would it take for you to move closer? I don’t want to be selfish, I just don’t want to do this without you.” 
But, after the words came out  of your mouth, you heard just how selfish they sounded. Though, thinking about her being with you for the baby had been something at the back of your mind that you’d been contemplating for weeks. It didn’t mean you needed to drop that fucking bomb on her though. . . The baby wasn’t her thoughtless decision that she needed to change her life for. . . It wasn’t fair to her. 
“I’m sorry, Els,” you slapped a hand to your forehead, shutting your eyes to avoid any further self-induced embarrassment. “I didn’t even think about that before it slipped out. You don’t have to change any—.”
“Well,” she started, coming close to you and removing your hand from your head. As she held your hand in hers, she continued speaking. You opened your eyes to her. “That was actually my thing that I was waiting to tell you. . .,” she paused, trailing off. A slow smile lit up her features as her eyes brightened. “I put in a request for an office job attached to the company I work through. An office job for a branch of the company - based here in New York. . . Told them I didn’t want to travel any longer and that I’d appreciate something steadier as life changes. . .”
Your ears filled with excited static. “What?!” You gasped, eyes lifting with hope. “What did they say?!” 
“Well, a few people talked to a few people, and the director of the program I’m in gave his permission and then recommendation to that part of the company,” she rushed out. “So, in a few months, I’ll finish out my contract for this job and be living here full time for the new one.”
There was almost no time between the moment she’d said the words and the moment you’d leapt from your spot in the kitchen to give her the tightest hug you could muster. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
She looked fucking gorgeous today. Everyday, in fact. But for the past couple of days, all I could think about was how thankful I was to have her in my life. Tis the season. No matter what, I was very thankful for her. . . For so many reasons. 
Though, the most prominent reason in my mind at the moment was how thankful I was to her for carrying our baby. So selfless and motherly and lovely. . .
So, I couldn’t help stealing repeated glances at her. I just hoped I wasn’t being too obvious. She was always beautiful, stunning—actual perfection walking—but the fact that our baby was in her belly just made matters much worse for me. She glowed in a way that she never had before. . . Drew my eye to her in a way that couldn’t be stopped.
It was wrong for me to look at her like this. I was in a serious relationship with someone else. . . I definitely shouldn’t have been eyeing her the way I was through the open layout, into the kitchen from my spot in the armchair. And especially not while I had my arm wrapped around my extremely hot girlfriend, and her nice fuckin' ass sitting halfway on my lap.
And, really. . . y/n had effectively broken—no, shattered—my heart all of those months ago in the kitchen. She shouldn't have drawn my eye to her the way she did after what she'd said. But, I really couldn't hold that against her any longer. It didn't matter as much as it once had. . . not anymore.
But, we weren’t meant to be. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted us to be. . . It seemed too difficult for the two of us to manage. And, I had Maya. . . Mayamayamaya.
I would've been lying, though, if I said she wasn’t the most incredibly created human being. She was sculpted by the gods. . . Meticulously made to ruin me. When she really shouldn't. Fuck.
And now that she held my baby. . . The way her tummy rounded out more than usual, under her sweater—that shit left me completely speechless.
The way she held pregnancy was unparalleled to every other woman that had ever done it before. She was ethereal. And as great as Maya's ass was, there was truly no comparing it to the way y/n's ass looked in those leggings I’d seen her wear no less than a million times before. . . And just like every time before, I wanted to walk up behind her and feel the curve of it. Rip them the fuck down and bend her - dammit. I was so fuckin’ weak for her.
But anytime I felt Maya move against my arm, or lap, or smelled her perfume wave off of her with an action, I was reminded of how completely wrong it was for me to be checking y/n out. It was wrong how I couldn’t get her out of my head—all the time, she was there. Even in the most intimate moments with Maya, she kept creeping the fuck into my thoughts. 
But, truly, it just happened. Couldn't control it.
And, even when I got up to check on the turkey once more, I couldn’t help my reaction when I passed her. When I'd accidentally brushed past her on her way out, the way my heart pounded in my chest as our bodies touched for a millisecond. She smelled so sweet—just like a damned sugar cookie. And the way she’d passed so delicately against me. Her top half had pressed against me for a stolen moment in time, her eyes catching mine as her precious bump skimmed my waist.
And her breasts. Felt those, too.
My chest tightened and my dick twitched—it was almost too much. The air was stolen from my lungs. 
We were so close for those few seconds.
“Sorry,” she hushed, her eyes flicking up to look at me. A small smile was sitting on her lips, more out of embarrassment than anything. Her cheeks were the prettiest pink under my gaze.
But she wasn’t the one to be embarrassed. I was the only one who should have been embarrassed — for how I was instantly a teenage boy again, just because of a little brush from her body. 
“Don’t be,” I mouthed, like we were sharing a secret. My lips lifted to reassure her and my eyes lit up with an emotion I couldn’t explain if I tried. 
Her face softened at my expression, and then she was gone. 
And once I’d gotten the turkey out of the oven, I was mostly back to normal. I’d forced myself to think about sad images of roadkill enough to ruin the mood I’d set in my head. 
After breathing a few deep breaths, I called out that dinner was ready and all I could do was hope for the best for the rest of the day. 
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
Thanksgiving carried on from when lunch started at two in the afternoon, to the evening, and saw your friend group (and Maya) sitting around the living room.
You were all bouncing back and forth with the Roku remote. Rotating around your semi-circle, every person took a turn choosing a YouTube video to cast.
It had turned into a sort of game of who could play a song that meant something to someone else in the room. Jake had just had the remote, right before Elsie, and had played a song for Josh. It had been some song from Seussical The Musical, to which Josh had sung along to every word. He’d even gone so far as to get up to do a little performance of the song. 
“That’s exactly how it went,” Josh had chuckled heartily, the sound starting deep and lilting at the end. He dropped his arms from an obviously rehearsed dance routine, the song ending on a final high note. “I swear to God.”
“Oh, Joshua,” Sam’s eyes bugged as he looked at Jake with a laugh, who shared the moment of humor with him. “Trust me. We remember. Every single high school theatre production,” Sammy shook, as if reliving a traumatic memory. "All of it is seared into my poor, poor brain."
"Samuel, shut the fuck-," Josh started, before getting interrupted by his twin.
“Day in and day fucking out, Josh. That’s how often we heard those songs at home— for the months leading up to that damn musical,” Jake raised a thick brow. It made your tummy do somersaults - he was so handsome. “And I was lucky enough to hear it from backstage as crew. . . Every single rehearsal.”
“Yeah, you really fucking hated those songs,” Josh noted with a bubbling laugh, sitting back down next to Elsie, his arm falling around her shoulders. “Why would you make yourself suffer through that again?”
“Just playing the game,” Jake shrugged, rolling his eyes with a smile. He handed the remote over to Elsie, who sat on the couch, next to where he sat on the floor, in front of the couch. “But goddamn if I don’t ever hear it again, it will still be too soon.”
Sam agreed with a toast, raising his beer bottle as Jake lifted his. They nodded at each other from across the room. And you stared on, getting distracted by the woman who sat on the couch, criss-cross-applesauce, behind him, braiding his hair. 
Fuck that bitch, you thought hotly— ridiculously.
Admittedly, it took too far too long to look away from her pop-up salon. But you eventually did, and watched the screen as Elsie started typing something into the search bar. 
You knew better than to feel jealous of her. But, you couldn’t help eyeing her from your place, as you snuggled into the armchair with your favorite fluffy blanket covering you. Just wanted to let the chair swallow you, so you nestled deeper and closed your eyes to imagine it.
“This is one of y/n’s favorites,” Elsie said, the pre-video ad starting on the television. “The first time she watched this, her life changed. The perfect mix of her love for classic rock and soul music.”
Instantly, you knew exactly which song she was talking about. And when the video started, your heart expanded in your chest, making everything feel fuzzy and light. Everything felt okay. 
Change the World. . . . the Unplugged version. Eric Clapton and Babyface. . . . so many memories.
“This is our childhood,” you said, voice thick with emotion. The amount of tears you cried on a weekly basis was nothing short of humiliating. The baby hormones were vicious in their attack.
“I can’t tell you how many times we heard this as kids,” Elsie affirmed, looking over at Josh. 
“Grandpa is a strangely huge fan of Babyface,” you giggled, throat loosening a little as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “This Unplugged vinyl played on a loop for a period of time.”
“It was that year we bought it for him for Christmas,” Elsie added, agreeing. She was watching the screen with tears in her eyes, too. “But you ended up loving it so much,” she looked over to where you sat. “That the next Christmas you got your own vinyl of it. From yours truly. You're welcome." She winked, blowing a little kiss your way.
“I do take partial blame for the constant looping on the living room record player,” you smiled, winking at her. 
She winked back. “Yeah, you and Grandpa had equal hand in his Unplugged record warping on this song.”
You grinned, sticking your tongue out at her as she did the same. When Eric Clapton started singing, you gave the screen your full attention. The sound of this song only brought back the happiest memories. Even before hearing Babyface’s cover, it was a family favorite. It was a song that made you feel whole. 
It was the one song your Grandpa loved to sing to you. . . Before this version had ever come to your family’s attention. He'd sing it in those soft moments that felt like glowing rays of sun hitting your skin on a hazy summer evening.
But when your Grandpa had heard the Unplugged cover on the radio, the Earth had shifted for him. . . And even though it didn’t top your Grandpa singing it, the cover featuring Clapton held a special place in your heart with how often you’d heard it bouncing off the walls of the living room. It played so often that you associated it with some of your best days. . .
You'd still been innocent enough, still, to enjoy the world through a rose-tinted lens. And, far enough away from the trauma with your Mom that life had felt new. Ironically, the cover of the song had come around when your world was finally feeling like it had changed. It had been an intricately timed re-release of the lullaby your Grandfather had once poured over you as you’d drift to sleep on both restful and restless nights. The song felt safe – sort of like your Grandmother’s cooking felt for you. 
“You know, it’s funny,” Josh’s voice cut through your drifting thoughts. You kept watching the two men on screen, but tuned in to your best friend’s dialogue. “Jake loved this version, too. When YouTube came around, he would watch this version back to back, trying to memorize the way Babyface and Eric complimented each other on their guitars. He always wanted–.”
“To play both parts and record them on top of each other," Jake finished, watching the screen intently. You’d let your eyes wander from the screen momentarily to see his expression after hearing Josh’s story. He still looked utterly invested; just like you imagined he had looked as a kid re-watching it over and over again on YouTube. “It’s not really an intricate piece. . . I just found it at a time when I wanted to try everything I could on guitar. I knew how to play better than most 14 year olds, yes, but I still didn’t know half as much as I do now,” he explained, never looking away from the musicians. 
You saw movement at his waist, and when you looked down to observe, he seemed to be playing a guitar part in the air. And you knew if he picked up the instrument right now, he’d match one of the men in time. Whichever one he was currently studying - you couldn’t tell. 
“I don’t know why I never recorded myself playing both parts. Synced them over each other,” Jake mused, still playing in the air. “I used Garage Band like it was an addictive fucking drug–.”
“You can say that again,” Sam inserted, acting annoyed but still grinning so wide all the same. 
“But I just forgot about it, I guess,” the older, long-haired brother continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’m getting the urge to do it again now – it’s coming back strong,” he chuckled, looking down at his fingers with a brow raised–just like he’d do if he was actually playing. 
It was fucking hot to watch him play so intently with nothing there to support him. Only his mind, full of the memorized chords from years ago. And to a song that meant so much to you. 
“I’m sure the guys at the studio would let you do it with their recording equipment,” Danny offered, also watching the famed musicians with intrigue, glancing over at Jake. 
Jake sucked in a breath, dropping his air guitar before leaning back against Maya, closing his eyes and sighing with one particular scratch of her nails against his scalp as she tugged out the french braid to start another.
Gag. You could vomit at the sight of their mushy-gushy behavior.
Your hand floated to your stomach to remind yourself of one thing you had that she didn’t. 
“Nah,” Jake sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like it has to be done without the expensive stuff. It has to be recorded in a way that baby Jake would have recorded it. . . I just–,” He wrinkled a brow, releasing a grumble under his breath.
There was something he was concerned about. . .
And, as he sat back up to watch the men finish out the song, Maya made a little huffing noise, crossing her arms over her impressive chest. But, in all of her perfection, she covered the noise with a small smile and a shake of her head. Just seemed to be joking with her little bratty act.
Oh, how cute and funny.
She’d looked over at Sammy, who’d made a little sound at Jake’s words. You followed the line of sight.
“What’s the deal, brother?” Sammy questioned, leaning forward to emphasize his care for Jake. 
“I just don’t have the time to do a little side project like that–can’t even think about prioritizing it,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair, untangling anything that resembled a braid. Maya did outwardly pout at that. She whined his name and said something about her hard work. You couldn’t help the tiny smirk that lifted your lips at the scene. You tried your best to hide it, and just focused on the screen again. “And even calling it a project sounds silly with everything else going on in life right now.”
Before you could feel too guilty for the situation under your palm that added to everything going on in his life, Josh spoke up with a giant gasp.  
“Baby Jake!” The curly-headed twin exclaimed. You all looked in his direction, equally confused with knitted brows. “That’s just it; record it like you would have back then with the intention that it’s for your baby. Something fun to do. But. . . You’ll prioritize the time if it’s for the baby. If you look at it that way, it won’t seem silly at all," he wiped his palms, arm back over Elsie as he finished with jazz hands. "Ta-da!"
As the song concluded and the next ad started (an ad for baby diapers, of all things), Maya was urgently pushing Jake out of the way, claiming she needed to pee. And as she passed between your line of sight and Jake’s, you realized you were zoning out on him when your eyes met his, just as she rounded the couch. 
He gave you a small smile, his eyes staying on yours, floating down to where your belly hid under your blanket, and then back to your face when he responded to Josh’s idea. 
“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, Josh,” he said, gaze never once leaving yours. 
The fire that rose from the pit of your tummy, all the way to your cheeks was not a new feeling with Jake, but for some reason. . . this time, it felt unlike any time ever before. 
-🌼🌼🌼- 
Everyone had stayed, having decided to lounge on couches for the night to sleep. They were all in equally deep slumbers (save for Maya, most likely still completely awake and waiting for Jake in his bed). 
You’d all stayed up until the wee hours of the morning–much later than you had in a long time. The only way you’d been able to make it, the tiny cat naps you’d dozed in and out of. As you’d done that, everyone else had continued on with their little YouTube game. 
Now, here you were, completely exhausted, practically dragging yourself to bed, ready to sleep. Just barely managed to wash your face before Jake had hopped into the bathroom, right after you, to brush his teeth.
But before you could make it inside your room, he passed by behind you. You weren’t even looking. You’d just smelled his heavenly cologne, a favorite scent of yours (and the baby’s, apparently) flood the space around you. You knew he wasn’t actually drenched in the smell of sandalwood and vanilla, but your baby-powered-super-senses could’ve convinced you otherwise. He smelled delicious and you could easily drown in him. 
Though, instead of focusing on that, you let yourself act on something that was threatening to leave your lips. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tired brain wouldn’t let the words halt. 
“Please don’t stop pursuing your dream or any other thing just because of everything that’s happening with me and the baby,” you rushed out, peeking up through your lashes for a moment before locking eyes with your hand on the knob of your door. “I don’t want you to ever feel like this is taking up too much space in your life or causing any unnecessary stress. You can back out whenever you want if you feel like that’s what you need and I won’t be upset with you for—.”
“No,” Jake responded, soft and stern, moving to stand in front of you. You had no choice but to look up at him, he was standing so close to you. His eyes bore into yours. “I’m not going to back out. I couldn’t do that–wouldn’t ever do that. I want this. I promise. It’s everything else, I think, that’s stressful. The baby is something I get to look forward to,” he reassured, his voice wavering just enough to worry you. 
But you didn’t let it get to you. Tiredness prevailed above any doubtful emotion you could’ve mustered. You could only sleepily nod your head at his words. 
“The baby inspires me even more to make it all happen,” he rasped in a velvety tone, assuring you. After, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Your sleepy eyes slowly followed the motion. You wished it was you. “Everything else is still exciting, too. . . But it’s a lot and it gets me thinking about how different everything is about to be. It’s scary. But– it’s. . . the baby makes it all seem brighter. Better. I’m not just doing it for me anymore. Not even for my brothers. It’s for my baby,” his full lips spread into a loose, close-mouthed grin. “Our baby.”
Your tummy flip-flopped and all you wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. You felt the slightest inkling that he wanted the same, with the way he’d brought his body in front of you, closer than he needed to. But. . . you blamed it all on tiredness. There was no way you could trust yourself to make actual, coherent assumptions. You were getting carried away, and even though you wondered of the possibility that he could want it, you cut off the idea. 
Tired or not, you knew one thing. He didn’t want you. He had a girlfriend. A real relationship with a woman much more beautiful than you. So, before you could get trapped in his big, beautiful brown eyes any longer, you decided to bid him goodnight. 
Though, just as you’d opened your door to go into your room, he stopped you. “Hey, real quick,” he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, confused at the sudden stop. “Maya–um,” he shook his head, brows furrowed as he messed with his bottom lip. “She told me that she wanted me to help however I possibly could. She wants me to be attentive and helpful in any way I can be.” 
He was right there - a step away. His breath, fanning over your face. You could smell the mint of his toothpaste. “Obviously with limits,” his voice lowered a bit as his eyes peered down at you. 
What was that supposed to mean? Surely he didn’t mean. . . But, you responded the only way you could think to.
“Obviously. . .,” you trailed off, raising a brow out of complete confusion for the conversation’s direction. “I wouldn’t want you to cross any sort of boundary. You’re in a relationship with her. Not me.” 
“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” he replied, voice rasping on a hitched breath. His body felt as though it was wrapped around yours in an act of protection. He’d brought his hand up, above your heads, as his body curved in towards you. After a pause, he continued. “But I don’t want to make any boundaries with the baby ever. Not at all. I want to be present. From now until always.” 
Suddenly, the moment was gone for you. There was no way he’d ever meant it as anything more. All he’d meant was you needed to remember there were boundaries. This was all about the baby. It was selfish to ever think any different. 
You knew better than to believe any different than that. Your thoughts got out of hand so damn easily these days. Why did you let them wander so far when you fucking knew better?
You backed up, your back touching the doorframe behind you. He scrunched his brows, but you weren’t sure why he was acting confused. It was late. You were definitely imagining things. He was just tired, too. . . that was all. 
“So. . .,” he cleared his throat. “Just let me know however I can help with the baby. Please.” 
“Okay,” you whispered with a quiet nod of your head.
“Okay,” he muttered with a gentle, distant grin. He nodded his head as well. And right before he opened the door to his room, his words barely touched the air as he told you goodnight. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 28, 2022
Covid. Gia had Covid.
Your heart broke for her having to deal with that absolutely terrible illness. And your nerves were climbing up the wall at not being able to see her. She wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t email her if you had questions or needed advice. But, you also knew better than to bother someone who was sick with something like Covid. 
So, you were spending the time that you would have been gearing up to go to Gia’s office, on this chilly autumn day, pacing back and forth in your living room. Cuticles thin from chewing and perspiration accumulated at your hairline and under your arms, you weren’t sure what to do. 
The idea of losing time on healing before the baby arrived was stressful to say the very least. You didn’t want to be any less of a mother than your baby deserved. He or she deserved a mentally stable mom. . . and in order to get there, you required several hours on Gia’s couch. 
All that could wave through your one-track mind was how terrible you felt for being so stressed about your healing while Gia was so sick. She was the one who needed to get healthy sooner rather than later.
You tried to remember the words Gia had put at the tail end of the email she had sent. She’d put in a few words that reminded you how well she knew you.
Don’t stress too much about the session being cancelled. :) Things happen and we have plenty of time, y/n.
Those words, typed specifically to assure you. Except, you’d worked yourself up too much for it to work very well after you’d read the title line of her email. Just a few, simple words: Out Sick – Sorry!
If even Gia’s words weren’t helping to calm your nerves, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through to the next appointment.
After an hour of feeling unsure about literally everything, you decided the only way you were going to make it was by doing some other form of self care. And the first thing that came to your mind was food. Food always sounded good these days (nausea taking a backseat thanks to your meds and second trimester), and it would help you feel better while also supporting the baby’s health in the womb.
But it took you no time to get sad because you didn’t know what kind of food you wanted. . .
You’d resolved to just not being able to win at life for the day when you heard the front door jingle on the other side with the sound of a key unlocking. 
Jake was home. Fuck. He was home to take you to therapy and you hadn’t even thought to text him and tell him– shit. Instead of doing what he would have rather been doing, he’d made a useless trip home. 
It didn’t take him long at all to notice you sulking next to the window, face-palming next to the it, where you’d been people watching minutes ago, from your vantage point a few stories up. 
“What’s wrong?” He questioned, concerned, as he came right up beside you. “What’s going on?”
Whenever you looked up from having your eyes pressed into your hand, you refocused your eyes on his worried ones. “I don’t have counseling today,” you sullenly stated. And rather than going into any more details, you just apologized. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There was no point in you coming home.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” he calmly reassured. Again, you found his line of sight. His eyes felt like the sweetest reassurance. “You look like you could use someone to talk to.”
“Don’t waste your time on me,” you waved him off, scrunching your brows in an effort to seem nonchalant. “Just go back to doing what you were doing.”
“Well, I don’t have any plans because I was planning on being with you all night,” he laughed just a bit, under his breath. He flicked at the tip of his nose with a pointer finger. 
“All night?” Your stomach swirled at the thought, but you also felt incredible guilt at stealing that time from him. “God, I’m so sorry, Jake.”
“Please don’t be.” It was his turn to wave you off while shaking his head. He swept a hand through his hair. “I’m glad I was here– glad that I am here.”
You didn’t really know what to say. There wasn’t anything you two could do that wouldn’t get completely awkward after a while. Right? It was only four o’clock and he planned on spending the rest of the evening with you? What were you going to–?
“What do you want to do?” He asked, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Wanna stay here? Order in? Go out and do something?”
Going out sounded like a date. . . and that felt wrong to do. But you also absolutely despised the idea of staying inside of the apartment to wallow for a second longer. . . . 
And it didn’t take you very long to realize you were still wanting food, hunger starting to feel like empty weight in your rounded tummy. 
“Food?”
“Food,” he agreed with a grin, winking at you before turning around, effectively making your brain turn to complete mush as you grabbed your own jacket and followed him out the door. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
The night was one of the best you’d had in a while.
He’d taken you to get Panera. Weird, yes, but their tomato basil soup had been calling your name the second it’d come to mind, as you'd searched places to eat.
And after sitting across from each other and just talking about his budding career and your classes, at Panera Bread. . . he'd told you he wanted to take you somewhere special. And, just as the sun was setting, you’d pulled up to a Barnes & Noble on your side of Brooklyn.
“Tell me why you’re stressed,” he’d said, putting his car in park.
A used, four-door (hard top, thankfully) Jeep. An all-black, mid-thousands model. After riding around in it all evening, you’d noticed it rode really well. It was just slightly strange that he had a car. He hadn’t had one when you’d been. . .
You cleared your throat, back on the subject at hand. “I never said I was stressed,” you stated, feeling ready to combat the truth. For whatever stupid reason. 
“You didn’t have to say it,” he breathed deeply through his nose, turning down the classic rock station he’d been playing. “I know you.”
Deciding it wasn’t worth a debate (because it was the truth–you had been very stressed earlier), you sighed; running a hand through your loose, natural waves, you responded. “Well, I’m just. . . this therapy is for me, yes, sure. But it really is mostly for the baby,” you explained. He sighed and you placed the hand you’d combed through your hair on your rounded bump, covered by your favorite oversized sweatshirt. “And having one session lost that I can’t be working on getting healed for the baby stressed me the fuck out. Still kind of is,” you admitted, glancing out of the small, rectangular windshield. “I just want to be completely better by the time the baby is here.”
“What are you most worried about?” He softly pondered, prompting you to talk through it. 
“That I’ll be just like my mom and project my hurt onto my baby,” you said wetly, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “I have so much in me that I don’t understand and it scares me how much I don’t remember – can’t remember,” you blinked to allow the new tear to make its way down your cheek before quickly reaching to wipe it away. “And it scares the shit out of me. It makes me. . . this terrible person to other people. I need to understand all of me, so my baby gets the best parts of me.” Sniffling, you swiped at your cheeks to rid yourself of the few more tears that cascaded down your cheeks. “And I don’t even remember the last time I saw those best parts. . . . so if I can’t see,” you huffed, your eyes finally piercing his, which stayed on you, intently listening “H-how is my child going to see them?”
Jake hummed, rubbed his chin. He never took his deep-set, amber-brown irises from yours. “It’s funny,” he started, a little grin ghosting over his lips as he spoke, “I’m seeing those best parts of you right now. I see those 'best parts of you' quite often.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you unzipped and reached into your belt bag for your heart monitor phone, willing it to not go off. There were butterflies wreaking havoc in your tummy. Naturally, your hands found their way to your tummy. His eyes followed that particular movement.
“How do you–?” You sniffed, shaking your head, zipping your bag back after a moment. “How do you see those things? I haven’t seen them since before you came into my li–- for a long time. And never consistently. . .,” you rambled, eyebrows drawn together, thumbs rubbing circles over the tight bump. “I’ve always been a bit of a wild card with my emotions. And finding out more of what I'd done from Elsie. . . I'm just way too similar to my–.”
“Do you think she was as self aware as you are?”
“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly. You would go with no, but. . . “I don’t know her well enough to make that judgment.”
“Okay,” he nodded, sticking his bottom lip out. A grin found its way to his plush lips, looking so kissable in the cramped space of the car. You leaned further into the door so as to not tempt yourself of anything. He continued, “Well, I would say she probably wasn’t. Or else you wouldn’t be wracked with so much significant trauma. She wouldn’t have left you hanging with so much to deal with. . . she would have been there for you. Helped you because she would've wanted to help herself. Would've been self aware enough for that,” he emphasized. “Parents say stupid shit. They do stupid shit. They’re humans. What matters is how they ultimately react.”
“But I react so brashly, Jake,” you argued, needing to be heard. “What happens if I do that to our–?”
“You won’t. I know you won’t,” he consoled you, his eyes so earnest as he conveyed the words. “You struggle with saying stupid shit. I do, too. So does everyone. You’ll figure out how to handle situations better, but it won’t be as hard as you think,” he shook his head, taking the keys from the ignition. “Not for you. You are determined. And you’re not this monster you’ve made up in your head.”
“Well, –,” you started, interrupting him, only to be cut off. 
“And your best parts are too many to name right now,” he surmised, winking at you once more. You rubbed wider, nervous circles on your tummy. “But one of my favorites is your determination to help others. The way you care for others. And if a mother has those qualities,” he pointed a finger at your tummy, and trailed the finger up to point at your face. “She will be one helluva fantastic mother. I’m glad our baby will have you.”
“Thank you,” you replied after the words had actually cracked the surface of your mental warfare. No voice appeared to combat what he’d said, so you let them sink, all the way down into your brain to truly consider for later. You didn’t fight them. . . which you viewed as progress. “Thank you so much. I–I needed to hear those things. And you were the perfect person to hear them from,” you blushed, crinkling your nose with the words. A smile settled on your lips, eyes drying. “Because I know you’re going to be the best daddy to this baby. I’ve known it for a long time. . . So, it means a lot that you think the same. Seriously.”
“Of course I think so,” he smiled, glancing once more at your tummy. “And the way you're always holding our baby. . . you love her so, so much. You’re already so intentional about loving her.”
“Her?” You asked aloud, wondering why he’d chosen that gender. Your hands held tighter to your tummy at the assumption. “Why girl?”
He hummed, looking out the windshield, past your head, with a wide grin. “It just feels right,” he concluded, before motioning at the windshield, nodding towards it. “Look.”
You did as he said, turning to see a mother and son (presumably) traipsing up to the store, just past the nearest cart corral. The little boy was skipping, and the mother was watching her like the entire world started and stopped with the child. The sky was bluer because he was around. You felt that. 
“The way you’re watching them says enough, honey,” he concurred. There was that nickname again. . . Honey. Your heart skipped a beat at the term. “I see it all over you. You’re going to mess up. Parents do. My parents did a lot and I still think they’ve been the best parents.” When he gave a small, breathy laugh, you looked his way. He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “But what good parents do after they mess up is– they have humility and apologize. They show integrity to their child. You do that. Already. For me.”
Sitting across from him in the still air of the Jeep, you let your eyes bounce back and forth between his. His smell, warm, sweet, and woodsy, was enveloping every sense of your body, in the taut air of the vehicle. His breathing laced with yours, your heaving chest kept up with the rhythm of his. He was steadier than you. . . he seemed fine. 
You felt anything but. Your emotions were going haywire at everything he’d just said. The man he was to you. . . he was too good to be true. 
But, instead of letting yourself get sad that he wasn't yours, you looked at the store behind you and cleared your throat. It opened up your mind and the air in the car. He blinked a few times, tilting his head slightly, watching you. 
“Wondering why we’re here?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I thought– let’s get out,” he said, pausing the conversation to unload from the Jeep. You followed his lead, taking the tall step as gracefully as you could to get down and out. The slip almost happened–but didn’t. Thank god. 
Joining him at the back of the car, you waited for him to lead the way and continue. You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body, over the sweatshirt. There was a bite in the air that hadn’t been there before. Jake tightened his jacket, too, tucking his hands in the pockets of it. “I brought us here because I knew you were stressed. I knew it probably had to do with the baby,” he started, looking down at you. You felt his stare, looking up to meet it. “So I thought maybe coming here to get some books to study and prepare would help you feel more at peace about whatever was on your mind,” he drew in a breath before blowing it out into the cold, dry air. “And now that I know it had to do with preparedness, this was kind of–.”
“Perfect,” you finished, nudging him with your shoulder. 
He looked down for a second, his eyes read an unknown emotion before he kept on. “I know you probably have a lot of books already, but–.”
“There’s no such thing as too many,” you replied, leading the way through the automatic doors. 
“Precisely,” he agreed, coming to a stop as soon as the two of you had entered. Raising a brow, he looked down at you before throwing a thumb over to the in-store coffee house. “Want something?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you responded with a light smile, walking toward the smell of comforting coffee and cakes. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
He’d footed the bill the whole night. . . including the surplus of books from Barnes & Noble. It had been a hefty bill, but he’d refused to let you pay. He had convinced you it was part of co-parenting – sharing purchases. And this was one of his first purchases to make for the baby.
“This was a good idea,” you mentioned at the end of the evening, juggling your one bag of books that you’d insisted Jake let you carry (the lightest one, after compromise) as you led the way up the stairs of your complex. “Focusing on other ways we can prepare for the baby, rather than worrying about what we can’t control.”
“I have a decent idea every now and then,” he chuckled, out of breath as he handled the bulk. 
Once you made it to the door, you unlocked it for the two of you.
And, for a moment, it felt so domestic.
It felt like a dream you shouldn’t dream. Arriving home after a big shopping run, walking through the door together as you laughed at the heaviness of bags and discussed a few of the books you’d chosen.
And as you made your way through the door finally, it broke your heart to see the night go. He wasn’t necessarily acting ready to end it, but the impending ending made your stomach turn. You wanted this for longer. 
He was going on and on about all of the things he’d researched as of late concerning babies and pregnancy and everything in between. You decided on grabbing a Canada Dry from the fridge, letting him sort the books on the counter into categories as he kept conversation easily.
Every now and then, you offered a small response to show you were listening, but otherwise, you let him talk. You loved listening to him talk about all of this. 
It made your heart feel ten times bigger. Though, as you took a sip of your ginger ale, watching him sort the books, your heart began to sink instead. 
You couldn’t help how much you adored his desire to learn about all things ‘baby’. He was already so good at his job as dad.
The way you’d felt all night–so peaceful with him. . . you knew it was good for you. He was literally your mental safe place (you hadn’t told him that though. Absolutely not). But. . . you knew it couldn’t go past the feeling of good friendship. Co-parenthood.
The unfortunate part, though, was that you really felt unable to stop the way you were feeling for him. It felt new and familiar all at once.
Though, you knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way. You shouldn’t.
But with the way his eyes lit up when you looked up at him again, after staring at your feet in your whirlwind of contemplation, you knew you were doomed. 
There was no stopping the way that you felt about him. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
One morning at the very end of November, you woke up with a cold. A terrible one. The same cold that every other person in your classes was seeming to come down with. Theo had been gone with it all week, and you saw him more frequently than not to study. You’d decided on one or two days a week after class. There were also the few people who sat around you in class, who’d come down with it.
So, it was due time for you. 
Normally, you would have tried to make it through the day. But, you’d done enough reading to learn that coming down with a serious infection like the flu or Covid could lead to a baby’s fetal development getting stunted. So, you played it safe and decided to stay home until you felt better.  
You had called in to work that morning. And just after that, you’d emailed the professor you had that day to let  him know. Everyone you had spoken to was understanding, luckily, which helped you to sleep very peacefully. You only hoped that the extra sleep wasn’t just helpful to you, but also–mostly–to the baby.
Sleeping off the sick seemed the best option. You hadn’t really had the mental energy that morning to look into safe medicine to take for colds during pregnancy. So, sleeping it was.
Your colds were always intense–all of your sicknesses were. When you got sick, it never failed to knock you on your ass. So instead of stressing over it all that morning, you’d chosen sleep as the easier route.
You had been hoping that you’d wake up from a long nap feeling refreshed and better. . .but. . . you were not so lucky.
When your eyes fluttered open for the second time that day to find what was left of the evening sun peeking through your curtains, you officially knew it was time to figure something out. Your eyes were burning–hurt to open. There was an ache settled firmly in every bone in your body–weren’t sure if you were cold or hot. . . 
You were definitely sick. More than a cold. No two ways about it.
When you turned to your bedside table for a drink from your Stanley, you found your bedside table had a couple new additions since you’d fallen asleep. There was a brand new Stanley sitting next to your old one. One you’d eyed for a few minutes online a week or so ago, and then decided against due to the monstrously obnoxious size. . . 
You’d talked to Jake about it after he’d noticed your pensive face looking at your phone screen for longer than necessary. . . And now, there it sat on your white, wooden night stand. A 64 ounce, rose quartz Stanley, in all of its glory. 
And leaning against it and next to it were a concoction of helpful remedies with a couple of sticky notes to explain each of their benefits. The handwriting gave him away. Jake. In his scrawl, he detailed what to take and when, which ones you could take together. He’d even written out the link to a website talking about pregnancy-safe cold meds. There was also a fruit punch Gatorade. When you reached out, it was still cold. He’d been in recently.
Moving on from the drink and meds, you glanced at the Stanley and saw it had a sticky sitting underneath it, waiting to be read. 
Plenty of water will help you and the baby stay healthy. It was worth it 
It had perfect timing and came in the mail today of all days
:) –Jake
The note effectively had your head spinning from something other than sickness. . .his kind gesture, making your stomach do soft flips. Your hand floated to touch your tummy at the idea of him doing so sweet for you (and for the baby–his baby).
After reading his advice on what to take, you went ahead and took some Tylenol for your headache and body aches, then used a nasal spray to help loosen up whatever drainage you could. The Vicks rub he’d left had been a welcome solvent on your chest, temples, and under your nose. 
But, it didn’t take long for your stomach to start rumbling, so you took that as your sign to find something that would ease the scratch in your throat and warm you up. 
You went out to the kitchen for food, holding your brand new Stanley, taking several healthy sips of the iced water from it. When you bent down to pour food in Stevie’s dish, you realized there was already kibble in there. . . that Jake undoubtedly left for her.
You were sure your heart monitor was picking up all kinds of strange palpitations at his gestures. 
Around the time you’d noticed Stevie’s food, you went to text him to tell him thank you. Only to find he’d sent a text about twenty minutes ago saying he’d left for the night. And while it made your heart sink, you knew you had no right to feel sad about it. . . especially when he’d done so much to help you before you’d even woken from your nap. 
To add emphasis to that thought, you noticed at just the right time that he’d also left a couple Panera soups waiting on the counter for you. God. . . he was wonderful. You read the note he’d left with the two little sealed containers.
Soup is the best when you’re sick :) 
–Jake 
Your body was already hurting a little less after you’d heated and almost instantly downed one of the delicious soups. A warm shower sounded more than tempting, so you didn’t waste time throwing away your trash and making your way to grab the shower steamer pods he’d left for you on your bedside table (they were a pregnancy-safe brand, he’d assured on a sticky, which made you softly smile). 
After placing them in the heating shower to begin dissolving the comforting notes of lavender and rose, you padded back to the kitchen for your new Stanley when you noticed something on the counter.
In an arranged group on the counter sat a few books you'd bought the other night. You recognized them. They sat with a notebook, stickies, and pens. Two of the books were closed, stacked, and tabbed with stickies–all bright pinks, greens, and blues.
Though, there was one more, face up and open, as if he’d had to leave unplanned and hadn’t had time to shut it. There was a pad of stickies sitting atop the page it was opened to. A pen was on top of the pad, which, when you walked closer, realized there was plenty of Jake’s scrawl already written on it. The page had a heading that read:
Props and pillows and sleep, oh my! 
And he’d written the following on his sticky, which lay upon the page: 
–Look into pregnancy pillows for y/n
–Be patient!! 
–Do what you can to help her find the right set up for sleep or rest 
–Adhere to her sleep schedules (no loud sounds or bright lights when she’s asleep, etc) 
–She needs sufficient rest (has healthy outcomes for her and the baby)
You went to look at the cover of the book, but before you could look at it, you stopped yourself. For some reason, it felt like an invasion of his privacy. Even though he’d left it open on the counter, these were his notes, not yours.
But just before you could walk any further to the bathroom and ignore his notes, the book stacked on top of the other had a note stuck to the top of it. And, written in bold, black sharpie, were the words Remember: Do WHATEVER you can to help y/n – it’s for the BABY!
The words it’s for the baby being written with finality at the end of the statement reminded you that chances were, all of this was not really for you. . . definitely not. You didn’t deserve that from him. No, whatever was for you was done for the ultimate benefit of the baby.
All of everything he did was for the baby. All of the words of reassurance. The trip to the bookstore. Panera. The meds tonight. Taking you to counseling. . . ev-ery-thing.
And that was fine. . .
So why was a tear drawn to your eye as you sped away from the book that sat on top of the counter? And why had you felt the need to go back to your room on the way to the shower, to get the Stanley cup you’d bought yourself? Why did the thought of using the one Jake bought for you make your stomach feel all tangled and weird?
Because he doesn’t care about you, a voice nagged, reminding you. It was a familiar voice, filtering in from the dark tresses of your mind. He doesn’t care about you. This is for the baby. So if you feel like it’s for you, know it’s not. Let him help the baby. Don’t be selfish. The baby matters most. 
You couldn’t help but agree with the voice. The baby did matter most. Not you.
So, you resolutely chose to wait out the calming scent of the steamer, until it all pooled down the drain. Stepping in when the scent was gone seemed the only option, as the way the shower calmed you was only for your benefit and not necessarily the baby’s. 
Yes, it sounded fucked up and foolish in your head. But you were trying to navigate these thoughts the best you fucking could and you were grasping for something that made sense. But all you were doing was making no sense. 
God, what the fuck, y/n?
And, stupidly, for whatever fucking selfish reason (because you knew for sure you were selfish–evidence proved that), you found yourself hiccuping on tears that hurt your already-aching body, under the lukewarm spray of the shower.
He didn't truly care about you. Not really. It was all for the baby.
-🌼🌼🌼- 
Once your mind was lucid after your little cold-sickness stint, you noticed stretch marks had started showing up. One by one, they’d started becoming stark and apparent and made you feel gross. 
The creams and oils you’d ordered seemed to help the slightest bit with the new darkness of the few tiger stripe-like lines. They truly looked heinous against your otherwise unmarred skin. You’d felt insecurities really begin to kick in after you’d cried in the shower on the first day out of three of your sickness. 
During the latter three days of your cold (or whatever the hell it was), you’d sulked and avoided Jake’s help in whatever way you could. You wanted his help with the baby. Only with the baby. But the baby wasn’t there yet. 
So, you didn’t need his help. He didn’t need to care about you. Only the baby. It was common sense. And it would be fine. 
But it still made you feel oddly unwanted. The feeling didn’t matter. 
But, for you, with your utterly complicated past, feeling unwanted came hurtling towards you, without any sign of stopping.
Since you were a child, feeling unwanted in your mother’s grimy home, a whole range of other negative emotions accompanied that familiar feeling. Most call it depression. Your oldest friend.
And, it had officially lit up for this new stage of your life. Why enjoy things for too long? It wasn’t worth it. Right?
So, the way your skin was beginning to scar due to growth you absolutely couldn’t control. . . it just set misery aflame in your amped-up insecurities and dispirit. 
On the first night of December, the depressive thoughts persisted. You stood with your big sleep t-shirt tucked up under your heavy-ass boobs as you lathered your tummy up with the last oil in your new, nightly anti-stretch mark routine. As you did so, tears pooled in your eyes at the sight of yourself. 
And, seemingly out of nowhere, your thoughts picked up on a different train. . . something you hadn’t really taken time to be super upset about yet. The thought slipped in amongst the rest of your woes. 
It was the thought of being a single mother.
And while it didn’t matter and wasn’t completely true, because Jake would be there, you’d still be doing it on your own in a sense. You would be on your own. The two of you definitely weren’t together. He wouldn’t be there with you. He would just be there, doing his own thing for the baby, with Maya by his side. (Nausea crept up at her name alone. Gag.)
You were going to be a single mother. Just like your own moth–. No. You locked eyes with yourself in the mirror, momentarily stopping the massaging of your belly. 
I will not let my mind go there, you asserted silently, staring daggers through your reflection. I am not her. I am not. I can’t be. I won’t be. What would Gia say? What would Jake say?
Amidst your crying and sorrowful thoughts, the knock on the door of the bathroom kind of spooked you. And, in the depths of your despair, you couldn’t really care fucking less who saw you right now. That was just how pitiful you felt. 
“Come in,” you said, sniffing and trying to cover the sound of tears in your voice by swallowing them. 
When the door began opening, you had to scoot over a little to let Jake in. You knew it was him. He’d been home all night with you, while Maya was busy doing whatever the hell she needed to do for her job. 
He’d spent a couple hours catching up on New Girl with you and it had been nice. Except, anytime you thought about how it wasn’t really for your benefit and rather him just being your friend for the baby. . . It just wasn't the same.
“You okay?” He carefully pondered, coming to stand slightly behind you in the mirror.
But, as soon as he appeared next to you and saw your current state of dress, his eyes went immediately to your bare tummy. He stayed trained on the bump that continued to grow, day by day. Still not huge, but definitely not small.
Insecurities were instantly blossoming at his stare. He was not looking away for anything, lost in a trance. He was probably in shock at just how big your belly had gotten, compared to the last time he’d seen you like this. Chances were, he was repulsed by what he saw. 
You effectively decided the stretch marks had been tended to enough for the night. You went to pull your Pratt shirt over the exposed skin. But to your surprise, his hand was shooting out, around your body, just as quick, to stop you before you could pull it down too far. 
He definitely succeeded in stopping you, holding your wrist. You were in shock – skin flaming at his touch . . .felt it everywhere. 
“I want to see,” he requested, sort of breathless. What? He wanted to–? “You look–this is–.”
“Ugly? Fat? Disgust–?”
“Beautiful,” he firmly stated, his eyes finally locking with yours in the mirror at the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”
His hand still held your hand over shirt, not daring to touch your belly. You couldn’t move to make the position change. The fact that he’d just called you beautiful was like a lightning bolt to your entire nervous system.
“I’m not–,” you shook your head, at a loss for words. You did not fully agree with him. Was it beautiful that you were holding the baby? Was the baby beautiful inside? Yes. But were you loving your body these days? Absolutely not. “The stretch marks. . . I’m so fucking big. . .”
“You aren’t,” he suddenly dropped his hand, and you were missing his touch as soon as it was gone. He went to lean against the bathroom counter, facing you. His eyes bounced between your belly and your eyes, settling on your irises as he continued. “You are not any of the things you called yourself. I don’t think any of those things when I see you. . . I don’t even understand how you could–,” he shook his head, blinking once before finding your eyes. “I just see a woman who is special to me. A beautiful woman who is carrying my baby.”
Carrying my baby. 
Those words. . . they did something to you. Your palms were sweaty as you held tighter to your shirt, rolled under your boobs.
“The baby is beautiful,” you concurred. And surprisingly, you didn’t trip over your words. “But I am–.”
“You are beautiful. I am talking about you right now,” he stated, with no room for disagreement in his tone. “Don’t discount that. Please.”
“Are you just saying these things because I’m carrying your baby?”
Where did that come from? Shit. Nothing like baring your most vulnerable feelings to the very person you feel most vulnerable in front of. . . 
“No,” he said without pause. He sounded sure. “You have always been beautiful. It’s just. . . enhanced now. I can’t. . .it’s hard to explain.”
You wanted to ask him to try to explain it but you didn’t.
All of a sudden, you felt confident to ask more. 
“You don’t just think so because of the baby? Do you just care about me because of the baby?”
Jesus. There it was. 
“We’ve gone over this,” he sighed, rubbing circles against his temple. He didn’t keep on with the action, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets as he found your eyes with his. 
“I know, but I just. . . I feel like I don’t matter. I mean, I really don’t right now do I?" You sarcastically laughed, eyes watering. "All I’m good for is being the big, fat incubator who hates her body and has ugly fucking stretch marks because my belly won’t slow the fuck–.”
“It’s good that it won’t slow down,” he reassured, amber-brown irises smiling with his lopsided grin. “It means the baby’s healthy and growing.”
“But you do think I’m an incubator,” you stubbornly persisted. “Didn’t say anything to argue that.” Your tone unnecessarily snipped with your next words, “Jake, you just want to help the baby. I know this. So just wait until the baby’s here. Don’t worry about me or making me feel better if you just want to help the–.”
“Where are you getting this from?”
You stared at each other for a few moments. . . . He gave you a look that told you he could see you.
“My mind is a really twisty place,” you huffed a humorless laugh, rubbing your own temples now. “It never shuts the fuck up,” you paused–didn’t want to say anything about the sticky note on the book that had spurred the thoughts. The same thoughts you’d voiced the night you’d told him. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve already been insecure about all of this shit. It’s just–.”
“I don’t view you as an incubator,” he insisted, crossing his arms, strong fingers wrapping around stronger biceps. “I view you as a brave fucking woman who is being selfless as hell. You’re growing a fucking human, y/n,” he said, grin widening. You felt your lips lift, too. He continued, “And I can’t help but be amazed by that alone every. single. day. And while that is beautiful, yes - I won’t say it isn’t because it is,” he unwaveringly asserted. 
“But. . . it’s more,” he kept on. “You’ve been this woman-the one in front of me - for a long ass time–before I ever knew you. Though, since I’ve known you, I’ve had the privilege of seeing this woman. I knew your heart right off the bat–since the day Josh told me about this girl who was letting a man she didn’t know move into her fucking home. Just because she cared about the situation. Didn't even know me," He raised a brow, lips quirking as yours did the same. “You’re selfless and–,” he paused. 
His eyes shut briefly before opening to yours. Except this time. . . they were wet with emotion. Yours were, too. Your heart was pounding and you felt warm with a blush, from your chest to your face.
“And kind. So thoughtful when you don’t need to be. You care a whole fuckin’ lot for others and sometimes it gets you in trouble because you get in your head and it hurts you,” he said, brows dipped with a shake of his head. “But the fact that your heart is the way it is in spite of everything you’ve been through–I can’t even imagine, y/n. All of that and so much fucking more makes you beautiful,” he tucked his hair behind his ears before they went back into his pockets. “So, no, it’s not just because of the baby. It’s just one more thing that makes you beautiful.”
You were utterly speechless, and you couldn’t stop the wetness in your own eyes, a tear trickling down your own cheek. . . How could he even begin to say all of those things about you when you’d been so terrible to him? Always made assumptions?
You weren’t sure how much time passed when you finally swallowed down your own tears and found the most simple words you could mutter. “Thanks, Jake,” you whispered.
“Don’t thank me,” he winked. It clicked with you that you could faintly hear your heart monitor phone going off in your room. It was alerting you of unusual heart activity. No fucking wonder - with the poetry the man had just spoken. He heard it, too, apparently, brows wrinkling. “What is that sound that’s been going off for the last few–?”
“My heart monitor phone. My heart is beating really fucking hard in my chest right now and the monitor picked up on the palpitations,” you blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you finally pulled your shirt down. “I’m not used to hearing people say things like that about me. It just catches me off guard when you–,” you coughed, blinking as you located some sense. “When anyone says sweet things like that to me.”
Then, you were back in time. Yet again. On the living room floor. That day it'd rained. . . a quiet, gray morning. He'd said things so like what he'd said just now. The same day those Aretha Franklin songs had sealed a place in your heart. Well– both of your hearts, apparently. . . according to Jake at the bar.
A comfortable silence had crept over the two of you that morning, he’d so obviously been watching you– admiring you–not to be mistaken for anything else as you'd laid atop him.
His next words confirmed it. 
“Even in the grayness of this morning, you shine so bright,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “You fucking glow, y/n. You’re just brilliant.”
All you’d been able to utter was a measly, “Thank you.” The sound of tears in your throat, behind your response, had surprised you.
“Has no one ever told you?” Jake had pondered, his warm chest breathing steadily and comfortably beneath you.
You’d explained how Josh and Elsie were kind to you, but. . . “hearing you say something like that. . .,” you’d emphasized to him. “Those words. . . It just feels good. I don’t know,” you’d shaken your head, a tear falling to meet his tanned chest. “And no one has ever said those exact words to me, no.”
“You are all of that and more, my lo—,” he’d cleared his throat, stopping himself from saying a word your heart was now longing so badly to hear. “You are so many things wrapped in one, y/n. So many fantastic things.”
“Stop,” you’d sniffed, more tears falling onto his chest. “You don’t have to say things like that. I promise I’ll still want to have sex with you if you don’t,” you’d laughed, wiping your leftover tears. The words had sounded funny (true, but still funny) as they’d left your mouth. 
“I want to tell you those things,” he’d said, firm in his response. “You deserve to hear those good things. Sex or not.”
And tonight had proven that he truly meant that statement. No sex, and still. . . .
But . . . goddamn. The sex. 
With that thought in mind, you couldn’t help but watch the sway of his ass in his tight black jeans as you followed out of the bathroom behind him. You bit your lip after bidding him goodnight– only able to think of how fucking badly you missed the sex. 
“I fucking love you,” he'd once told you - on the very night that had gotten you in this predicament. “And god, do I love fucking you. . .”
Not that word. . . Where had it come from just now?!
Love. Love. Love. Love. You hardly ever thought of him saying it to you–tried not to because it hurt and you knew it wasn’t true anymore.
But when he’d said those sweet things about you being beautiful just now. . . apparently, your mind couldn't help but chant the word . . .and the sound of him saying it to you. Why?! He was just being kind.
It was so hard wanting him and not being able to have him. . . Not like you ever actually had him - but before you fucked everything up with your stupid, hurtful words.
And, god, did you still want him. 
You couldn’t have him like that – all of the reasons were plain as day. But. . . at least you still had the memories. The wonderful memories. But being pregnant made the memories so much worse. . . because one little thought of how he felt inside of you had you actually throbbing for him.
As soon as you got to your bed, you were reaching into your bedside table for your favorite little vibrating instrument. The thought of that morning. . . the idea of having your breasts pushed against his bare chest again as he told you things just like he did tonight. . . You knew it wouldn’t take long for you to be unraveling. 
Before long, you were feeling all of the tremors you craved from Jake’s mouth, from the little toy held just right against your quivering bundle of nerves. And in less than five minutes, you were  shuddering, body tensing and releasing as you breathily moaned his name into your pillow.
-🌼🌼🌼-
December 4, 2022
Your week ended with a particularly exhausting day at the Black and Gold. 
Inventory had come out of nowhere. And, with Josh busy with his new career, it was mostly on you to prepare for it.
The two other girls who worked with you couldn’t give two shits and it showed when you’d shown up for a shift after theirs. Nothing was ever prepared in the evenings or the following mornings if they were in charge—and inventory week was no exception. 
In fact, it was glaringly more obvious when it was such an important week as inventory week. 
And having to do all of that after your few solid days of feeling like complete and utter crap and while being pregnant? It had been one of the longest days you’d had in your whole life (dramatic? Maybe. But whatever.). 
And to top it all off, you’d come home to the apartment being very warm to accommodate the cooler weather outside. 
For normal people, it probably felt nice to come into the warmth. And, most likely, it would’ve felt great to you before your pregnancy.
It was just too damn hot in the apartment tonight. You’d wanted to come home and take a warm shower to wash off the day and relax your sore muscles, but the temperature of the place had you throwing that idea away real quick.
So instead, you hurriedly went about feeding Stevie before rushing to your bedroom to dig out the box fan stuffed at the top of your closet. You’d bought it the summer the A/C had let out on you and your sister, and had kept it handy ever since for fear of it happening again. 
And at this exact moment, it felt just as hot to you as it did that summer the A/C quit working.
The fan was plugged in and blowing at full blast, towards the bed, in no time. It was sitting on top of your vanity seat, pointing right at your side of the bed. The speed at which you’d gotten it situated was astounding. And your sheets were cool and crisp and tempting you to climb into them when you pulled your covers down. 
But you couldn’t climb in yet with the way your bladder was squeezing and hurting with how badly you needed to pee. You’d put it off at the B&G, ready to get home. And then you’d come home to an uncomfortably steamy apartment.
Before heading to the bathroom, you stripped completely of your tight bra (thank you, God), your stuffy sweater and your leggings. Then, changed into a thin pair of pajama shorts and the first camisole you could find in your chest of drawers. And thankfully the thin strapped shirt had no built-in bra to constrict you. 
You’d welcomed Stevie into your room, her soft purrs and shaggy fur rubbing against your ankles as you promised her of your soon arrival back. 
Finally, after peeing and washing your face, you were ready to lay right in front of that fan. 
You stopped by the kitchen to quickly grab a Stanley from the counter– to find nothing. No Stanley. Neither of them.
Shit.
Slapping your forehead, you remembered almost instantly where they still sat on the counter at the Black and Gold. Both of them. Your rush to leave and rest from your long day had prompted you to forget a couple of your most prized possessions. 
Without your go-to water tumbler, you felt naked. And even more thirsty. 
Your day had been long and hard and now you were paying for it. Ugh.
When you scanned the kitchen for a quick alternative, your eyes immediately landed on the case of waters that Jake had recently bought for rehearsals only. You didn’t give two shits. You were bound to steal one to satiate your thirst. 
The one problem was. . .
It was sitting atop the fridge. Out of your reach. And with the few inches Jake had on you, he’d stacked it up there so it would be out of the way. You remembered him saying those exact words as you eyed the package now. Hated those words. 
Because not only was it out of the way, it was out of your reach. Out of your reach when you were dying of thirst and needed a drink of water. Stat.
Without thinking of risking anything, you went to grab a table chair quickly and quietly.
You had to be quiet because Jake was home and you did not want to wake him. Not when you were in cavewoman mode. . . and especially not with the way your tits and ass were flashing in your current choice of clothing. Or with the ugly heart monitor that was attached to your chest.
So, as carefully as possible, you sat the chair next to the side of the fridge with the waters and climbed on top of the seat to grab the case of Pure Life. Briefly, you worried about handling a heavy object while pregnant, but put it to the side when you realized pregnant women all over America handled water cases like this. You were fine. 
In the lapse of time it took you to contemplate holding the waters, and getting it off the counter, you misplaced the package on the counter top. And right as you silently stepped off the chair, the waters came crashing down onto the floor of the kitchen. The harsh sound of plastic smashing against the ground, filled with several heavy bottles of water, seemed to linger in the air around you as you stood there. One foot still on the chair, one off ready to go. 
Not able to change the fact that it crashed onto the ground, you just stood there and stared at the offensive case of water for a moment and cursed it for its loudness. But before you could silently wish harm for too long, you were bending to pick it up. 
Once it had been safely placed back on the counter with careful hands, you glanced towards Jake’s room. No movement or sound from it. He probably hadn’t heard — deep in sleep. 
And then. . . Your pregnant brain was sparking to life. 
There was a fucking Brita in the fridge. Filled to the brim with ice cold water, versus the room temperature water in the case. You’d just filled it this morning before class. And ice cold water sounded so much more appealing than lukewarm. . . 
If only you’d remembered before that you had the filtered water waiting in the pitcher. . . There wouldn’t have been a giant crash to possibly wake your roommate. 
Putting all of the irritation out of your mind, you went to grab a glass quickly from the cabinet, then hastily pried the pitcher from the refrigerator. With nervous hands, you poured until the glass was literally overflowing. 
“Shit!” You whispered at the mess, anxious to be rid of this situation. Tired and thirsty and still feeling warm even in your cami and shorts, your ears rushed with white noise.
This was not ending up like you’d planned.
The pitcher had safely found its spot back in the fridge and you were finally taking a drink from your (overfilled) glass, when you decided to multitask and grab a few paper towels to clean up the counter.
But when they wouldn’t rip off the roll, you yanked too hard. And that resulted in the water you were still drinking, to spill. It dripped down your chin, down your top mostly, and into the top of your shorts. Sensory overload was doing what it did best, overwhelming you—making you lose grip and had the glass falling from your hand and to the ground. 
That shatter was much worse than the water case falling, the shards thankfully large, but the few sparkling pieces of glass had you shushing Stevie away when she approached with curiosity. 
And if Stevie was approaching, then surely someone else had heard—
“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jake hushed, his voice close behind you, sounding like it was coming from the entryway of the kitchen. 
You stilled. Of course he'd woken up. You’d made a fuck ton of noise. Real nice.
You turned on your heel, just the slightest bit, to peek over your shoulder at him. And with the luck you’d already had with the night, the action made you effectively slip from the bit of water that had made its way under your foot. 
Falling, more like—and not using the counter to catch yourself like a sane person—towards the hard ground and glass, bump—baby— first—fuckfuckfu—.
Jake’s arms immediately wrapped around you, effectively stopping your fall. He hugged you tightly to him. One arm wrapped fully around your stomach, hand secured to your side, firmly in place. And the other hand— gripping your breast. . . fully. 
He had you wrapped up in him, ass pulled into his crotch to keep you steady.
And ho-ly fuck.
Your nipple hardened instantly at the feeling of him holding your chest. You’d been waiting to feel his hand hold your sore breasts. . . And your assumption had been correct. His touch eased the pain in them, felt deliciously good—his touch didn’t hurt them like everyone else seemed to do on contact. 
But then he began moving his hands away. 
No.
“I’m sorry— I-I didn’t mean to—.”
“Stay.”
The word just slipped out as you grabbed hold of his hand, keeping it secured where he’d initially placed it, carefully situating his fingers over your nipple for the sensation you longed for. 
And when you did, he squeezed the flesh through your thin shirt. His other hand gripped your hip, exposed just a bit by your shirt – the way his fingers held you there made you fearful that he’d leave marks.
You fucking hoped so. 
And fuck, if he didn’t like it, too. You could feel it against your ass.
The way he continued to massage his other hand on your chest, wrapping his fingers securely around your breast, feeling it, told you so, too. The impulsive urge to pull down the top of your shirt and give him full access was becoming more and more appealing by the second. 
But you didn’t do it. Didn’t want to do too much and scare him away. 
You just let his arm come to rest where he apparently wanted it to, fully over the other breast. He comfortably situated his arm, rubbed a purposeful thumb over your sensitive nipple. 
“Jake,” you whispered. Couldn’t help it. He elicited this feeling. “Please.”
With your words, he pressed his front harder against your ass. God, you could feel the shape of him.
Letting the moment take over, you decided to let your body lean into his, rested against him and pushed your ass purposefully into his hardening dick. The breath he sucked in was not lost on you, and you craved hearing it again, so you repeated the action against him. 
His hand tightened around your breast, and he began massaging it as he used his grip to pull you even closer to him. His thumb moved to rub tight circles around your taut nipple. It felt so good. . . your head fell back against his shoulder, sucking in your own breath between your teeth. The way he gently kneaded the flesh in his strong grip had electricity shooting through your chest, all the way down to your toes. 
Your heart was going crazy, beating frantically, barely letting up with its assault against your chest. The feeling of him against you was enough to make you lose your breath with the way your heart was clenching in your chest, all the way up to your throat.
And then you heard a familiar, faint beeping from your bedroom.
The blessed heart monitor phone. Tracking when your heart rate would increase. The stupid phone didn’t need to tell you that it was beating hard right now. And so what if you fainted? You would do it in Jake’s arms. No better place to be. 
All you knew was that you were elated that it was still in your room – and quiet enough to the average ear that it hopefully didn’t break the air of want between you and this man you wanted so. badly. 
Jake hadn’t heard it - or didn't care to stop if he had, that much seemed to be clear.
He angled his hips, pressing so cozily into your backside. You could feel all of him – moving in slow circles, while still pressed tightly to your ass. That continued on for a while until he nudged himself, right in the middle of your ass. You felt him pulsing. Tucked into you, making your core throb even more for him.
Your nerves were on fire, and when he began rolling his hips, thrusting into your ass. . . you released the tiniest moan. It was such a small sound that you briefly thought you’d imagined it. But then the hand that had been holding your hip came to wrap around your throat briefly, and then up to your mouth. 
His breath came in hot waves against your ear, his voice gravelly with need. “It’s late. We shouldn’t make noise like that. It’s too late.”
After making his point known, his hand moved to sweep some hair over one shoulder, leaving your neck exposed for him to breathe hotly against. . . and then lick. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his wet tongue, making loose circles against your hot, sweating flesh.
“You still taste so good,” he moaned with the words, ever so quietly. “You always will–but it’s like you taste sweeter than before. I can’t even–.
But he never finished what he was saying, choosing instead to press sloppy kisses against your skin. His lips and his tongue, moving together to suck gently. 
Fuck! What had gotten into–?
Your body relaxed into him all on its own, moving near enough to him that you felt like one. 
Your ass ground against him, pressing so close. He kept with his motions as he angled his lips to hover above your bare shoulder, breath hot on your skin.
Though, his kisses stopped. But, he still released puffs of overexerted breaths, over your skin, wet from his mouth. It made your toes curl and your eyes fall closed. He didn’t give your neck any more attention as he used his position to lean up and look over the front of your body, effectively pulling you even closer to him. 
“God,” he breathed, his breath hitting from exposed shoulder, onto your collar bones. Your motions continued, but just a little slower to keep him where he was, not wanting to somehow push him away. You felt him, throbbing steadily against your ass. “You’re soaked.”
You have no idea, you silently, hotly responded, moving to rub your thighs together.
But you remembered your predicament. What he was talking about. Your clothes were completely soaked through. There had been so much water. He was talking about your clothes.
“I spilled my water,” you breathed back, so quiet. 
“I can see that. Y/n– fuck,” he rutted against your ass, his hand moving to the bottom of your full breast to hold it in a steady grip. You realized he was moving his hand to see the entire breast, your straining nipples through the soaked white fabric. “Your tits. . . they’re so fucking– Goddammit.”
“Sore,” you moaned back, your body arching in need against the hardness in his loose pajama pants. “Heavy.”
“God, I’m sor–,” he went to move his hand again. And you once again brought your hand up to stop him. 
“No, Jake,” you held his hand in a tight grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “Feels good.”
“Yeah?” He questioned, raspy and needy. 
Then, he was suddenly letting go of your chest to move your strap to do what you so desperately wanted.
Once it was draped over your shoulder, he moved a hand slowly over your sternum, into the front of your shirt. When he grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, you whined, knees buckling. And, finally, he pulled your breast out to touch the air. 
And just before he could hold it with the hand that was readily going to grasp it. . . his bedroom door was creaking open. 
“Jakey?” Maya’s voice rang through the apartment. “You okay?”
Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be? 
You hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of anyone taking steps towards the kitchen from the slightly creaky hallway, but you still decided you needed to get the fuck away from Jake. He was not yours.
You pulled away harshly and quickly, turning around all as you went to pull up your tank.
When you fully turned around, he was standing stock-still, watching your every move with your top, not letting his eyes fall away from your breasts. Your hard nipples. You felt the blush spread across your entire chest.
Then he bit his lip, your entire body heating at the motion, before he was responding.
You moved forward to hold his cheek, trying to wake him from the daze he was in. Your words barely hit the air, you were so quiet. “Jake, go back to your room. I’ll clean this up so she doesn’t–.”
“I’m good, babe,” he called back to her in a low tone, still honing in on your eyes. Your brows dipped, confused. He looked to the fridge, his hand coming to hold your bicep, keeping you there. Why was he not getting his ass back to his room? “Y/n’s asleep and I really don’t want to wake her,” he lied, eyes still glued to something to your left.
She could walk in and see he was lying! Why was he being so fucking careless? 
“Just go back to bed,” he continued, leaving no room for argument or worry. “I dropped something when I was getting up to get some water.”
“Okay,” she responded, not using the same near-whispering tone as him. “Just don’t be long, baby.”
“I won’t,” he simply said, amber-brown irises, tracing back to yours in the dim lighting of the kitchen, highlighted by the moon, shining in through the kitchen window. Full moon. Anything can happen. 
And what was happening was wrong. 
When you heard his bedroom door click closed and a little squeak from the bed to indicate someone had placed weight on it, you pulled away from him, his arm slowly dropping back to his side. The eyes that stared back at yours had a question behind them, but you didn’t give him time to ask it.
“Jake,” your tone clipped and quiet. You didn’t want to break the ridiculous cover he’d mindlessly created. “Why the fuck did you lie like that?”
“I didn’t want her to come in here,” he cut back, his inflection reflecting the same hot energy as yours. “If she would’ve known we were both in here, she would have come looking. I don’t need that,” he insisted. “And neither do you. Especially with your tits on full fucking display like that.”
You glanced down, after he’d motioned momentarily at your chest. And, his words rang true when you realized your entire fucking nipple and areola was visible through the material. Even in the darkness of night, you could tell as much. Your arms flew up to snugly cover them, flinching at the way it felt like sharp needles were pressing into your chest momentarily.  
When you peered down to where you saw his hand moving, you realized he was palming himself through his pants. You felt yourself release, the slightest bit in your panties.
Your hands tightened closer to your chest, doing the opposite of what you wanted in that moment–you wanted to bring your shirt down over yourself and let him finish on your waiting ches–.
Suddenly the pressure against you was too much and your arms were falling from their place across your breasts. Thus, standing there, on full display. Right fucking there for stupid ass Maya to walk in at any moment. 
Honestly, you were the stupid ass. And it seemed like Jake was, too. 
Maya was the innocent one in all of this.
“Go wait in your room for me,” he whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy floating through your veins. “I’ll clean this up. And then I’ll be—.”
“But–,” you brought your arms up to your chest again, covering yourself. It was a brainless move to flash your chest like that. You didn’t want to tempt him in any way. “This is my mess just–.”
“Y/n,” he all but spit in your direction with the harshness in his whisper. “I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself on the water or glass. Please.”
Good point. 
So, you decided you’d do as you were told, though not without the last word.
“Fine,” you practically growled, stepping over water, his hand reaching out to you, trying to balance over a puddle pooled at your feet. You grabbed his hand, one arm covered your heaving chest, as you made your way over the mess, and finished your thought. “But don’t come to my room. Go back to bed. I don’t want Maya to–.”
“I don’t care right now–,” he cut you off, but you didn’t let him continue before interjecting. 
“You will in the morning, Jacob,” you bit back, making fiery eye contact, crossing your arms. The hiss you released at the feeling of both arms covering yourself again was embarrassing. So, you tried to play it off. “You will. Just don’t make the mistake of coming to see me ton–.”
“It wouldn’t be a mist–.”
“Jake. Yes it would,” you insisted with a tense whisper, taking one step towards him, not taking your eyes from his once. “I’m not going to have you ruin what you have with her just to make a fucking mistake with me.”
Throughout the span of that small conversation, you saw his eyes go through every possible wave of emotion. His beautiful, deep set eyes had started wide with excitement, to now being filled with white hot frustration. He was mad. 
The last emotion made its way straight to the pit of your tummy and to your panties as you felt them draw even wetter. Damn. You’d take any sex with Jake right now, but angry sex? Dammit if that didn’t get you–. 
No, y/n. Stop it.
“Do you not want this? Why were you—just minutes ago if you don’t–?”
“I never said I didn’t want it.” You flat-out said, without a second thought. Why even lie when you’d just exposed yourself with whatever you’d just done with him? To him?
The two of you stood there, watching each other with flushed cheeks, hot breaths, and equally heaving chests. 
God, you would not be able to hold onto your momentary flash of integrity if you didn’t finish your thought and leave him. 
“We just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right,” you sniffed. Shit. Your throat was tightening, eyes collecting tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave a woman–the woman you love,” you choked, foolishly, on the emotion that quickly made its way from your throat to your eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”
His own expression matched yours, his eyes pooled with tears of dejection. There were once more a couple moments, filled with silence.
Silence, aside from your deep breathing, and wrought with an energy you couldn’t place. You had to get away from him.
“Just go to bed. I won’t fucking bother you,” he said, swallowing thickly. He then spoke your words from earlier. “And let me clean this up.”
Again, you sniffled, but nodded, looking down, to cover it with a barely there 'goodnight'.
He didn’t say anything else, just went about his business in the kitchen to put things back together, turning his back on you altogether.
Suffice to say, you cried for a good chunk of time as you laid in bed, after changing into a big t-shirt.
Cried big, fat, somber tears.
The crying had even lasted long enough, keeping you up to hear the bed creak much more than necessary when Jake got back to his bedroom. . . The sound of soft, pleasured moans from both of them, accompanying the groans of the bed as they moved on top of it.
Lucky fucking you. 
The bed that used to be yours when that room was yours. . . The acts being made against it that made you want to punch something - someone. Someone with long, black hair and a too-sweet expression.
Like a child, you growled and used a spare pillow to cover your ears until you couldn’t hear anything through the plush filling of the pillow.
You also tried to distract yourself with TikToks, but you couldn’t focus on your feed filled with BabyTok. It just made you sad and wistful as you thought of your day of book shopping with Jake. . .
About 30 minutes later, you figured the coast was clear. It had occurred to you after lying there, doing aimless shit, that you were still very thirsty. . . your tongue felt like cardboard in your mouth. 
When you opened the door to go to the kitchen, though, you found a tumbler that didn’t belong to you, waiting for you. And when you picked it up, you realized exactly who it belonged to. . . the words told you as much. 
Merry Christmas, Jacob Thomas! 
Love you, 
Mom 
The Cricut-vinyl lettering was placed carefully across the front of the black off-brand Yeti. What you found when you looked through the clear lid was a cup full of water. Iced water.
The crying that ensued as you closed the door and placed the cup on your nightstand was no surprise to you. The sweet action made your heart thrum with unbridled admiration for him. 
You hated how things were now. . . how simply interacting with him the way you had was a mistake. When you compared it to the way things had been before the fateful day in the kitchen, it made your stomach sink and your eyes well with more tears. 
Then there had been what you’d heard through the walls. . . it made you want to fucking vomit. But. . .you’d brought it on yourself. No question about it. 
Aaand, more of the damn tears. . .
After taking a few healthy swigs from the cup, you felt sleep find you without warning. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own.
And, as you faded into a well-earned sleep, the only solace you found that night was the smooth bump of your tummy, which your hands held protectively–longingly–as you wandered to sleep.
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: hmmmmm what do you think will follow that night in the kitchen?????
Change the World from Friendsgiving :)
ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu &lt;3
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Taglist:
@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend
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katuschka · 1 month
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Olalla Chapter Six 2/2
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Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka
So, the second part of Chapter Six is here. Thank you for you patience.
7.148 words
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.
Warnings (are spoilers): shock, physical and emotional exhaustion, angst, language, homophobia, smut (retrospective)
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You've been on your way
Please stay, please stay, please stay...
Don't go away
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Part 2/2: Agnieszka, Zakopane
Agnieszka was dragged to the Emergency in spite of constantly insisting that she was completely fine, even though she could barely whisper those words at one point. Outwardly, she suffered just a few minor scratches, but her body gave out anyway. 
The initial shock subsided after several minutes, but even after her heart stopped racing and it was possible to breathe again, she was still weak and disoriented. Not having eaten anything since lunch the previous day – and that was just soup – she was exhausted, hypoglycemic and dehydrated, as she gave almost all her tea to Joshua to keep him warm.
After they gave her fluids and grape sugar and it was time to try to go down, she could still barely stand. They managed to descend two hundred more metres before the world around her started to spin and she sat down on a flat stone with a thud to prevent herself from falling. The rescue guys immediately offered to call another helicopter, but she stubbornly refused. She was fine. Other people might need it more. Lone wolves who lay somewhere alone and wounded, while their women were dying from worry at home. No more…
Moreover, she needed to keep moving to prevent herself from thinking. Thinking hurt more. Mentally, she was in that helicopter flying north, still holding him. She couldn’t stand the thought of him disappearing in the distance. 
With her father’s help, they managed to descend the transverse ridge and go as far as the crossroad in the middle of the upper valley before she finally admitted that she couldn’t go any further. Thankfully, together with several other sleep-deprived or lightly injured people who had spent the night on makeshift beds in Murowaniec, they were allowed to use the ski lift up to Kasprowy Wierch, there changing to the first cable car ride back down to Kuznice, where the ambulance was already waiting.
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It was almost 10:30 when she got back home from the hospital, fearing the inevitable.
“I can call him,” Maya offered sympathetically. 
“No….” Even with a generous dose of vitamins and minerals now running through her veins, Agnieszka was still weak and tired, but resolute all the same, turning to Mama Bear again. Almost everything else had been taken care of and Maya’s husband and kids, who had also spent the night, were already waiting for her in the garden. It was her time to go back home. “No, I can do this. And I have to. Mom’s here. And dad. Don’t worry about me, I’m ok.”
Maya did worry. Still reluctant to leave, she made her sister strong tea with milk and honey first. When they hugged goodbye at last, she whispered in her ear: “Go to Krakow, Ninotschka. You used to be a happy and lively girl, but it’s been years since you were that person and I saw glimpses of her earlier this week. Don’t close those doors again. At least not yet.” 
No, not yet. Whatever would happen from now on, she would not be able to close those doors soon. Or ever again. She felt like she was standing out in the open air, exposed to wild elements and unable to find her way back to her old inner fortress. The place in which her melancholic soul now resided was a wild and unkempt garden, and he was the sun whose rays shone through the leaves, making it grow and keeping her warm. And just like the sun, he would disappear below the western horizon eventually. 
She’d been thinking about it while in the Emergency when they finally forced her to keep still, with her mind racing and shutting down in turns. He did this to her. The feeling was overwhelming, but not painful, just bittersweet. She needed to see him again, only if just to tell him. Who knows what would happen next. Maybe she would rot in the darkness, maybe another light would appear in her sky; but it was certain that she couldn’t go back. In fact, she dreaded that stale place now.  
She also dreaded the phone call, but it was her responsibility and it was inevitable. 
What was she supposed to tell him? Did Joshua tell him about what happened between them? Delivering news like this was never easy, but now she also thought it was completely her fault. Maya said he was stable and out of immediate danger, but drifting in and out of consciousness still. Thank god. It calmed her down a bit. 
It was ten past eleven now, which meant 4 a.m. in Nashville. Maybe she should wait until their morning, maybe she would even know more by then…no, this was important. Surely, he would be angry if he learned that she waited…
Standing behind the reception counter, she took a deep breath and dialed the number. 
“Yes?” 
“Hello, this is Agnieszka Sikorska. Am I speaking with Jake Kishka? I’m really sorry for waking you up, this is an em…,” her voice faltered. She swallowed and quickly continued, and it sounded almost hysterical this time. “This is an emergency!” Calm down, Agnieszka, for god’s sake! She had to sit down.
A brief pause, as he looked at the number again, and his apprehension grew, followed by the first wave of fear. 
“No, no…I’m, uh, still awake, actually. How can I …uh…help you?”
If Joshua’s voice was like crystallized honey, Jake’s was blackberry jam. Pleasant, calm and soothing, even though his own heart rate went through the roof the moment she said your brother. She tried to explain the situation quickly, while leaving out all the personal details. Not now. Still, he had to stop her a few times when she stuttered or stopped making sense, or when her accent became too incomprehensible due to her agitation. He even asked her if she was ok a few times, to which she always replied “just tired, don’t mind me.” 
He was clearly very upset himself; she could hear it in his own voice, but he remained kind to her, for which she was grateful. Both her body and mind couldn’t endure anything else, even though she assured Maya that she was fine. 
It was still the most exhausting call of her life, and she slid down in her chair with slight relief when it was over, noticing only then that she had used her personal phone. Fuck! Unprofessional! With her heart beating wildly again, she quickly texted him the official contact number, asking if he would use that one in the future if necessary. 
He didn’t. He kept using this number.
They texted a few times during that afternoon, mostly regarding his travel arrangements as well as some stupid bureaucratic shit, until one particular message made her heart skip a beat. 
JK: The doctor said it was you who found him.
It looked like a simple statement, but it felt like a question. She started panicking, not ready to disclose this part of the story with him just yet. It took her five minutes to come up with the most neutral response. 
AS: Yes, I was there before the mountain rescue arrived. 
She could see him writing something and stopping repeatedly and watched the disappearing and reappearing three dots fixedly until another message finally appeared on her display.
JK: Why?
Shit. Think Neszka, think…
AS: I’m a licensed mountaineer and a part-time guide. I decided to help after the storm when we lost contact. 
Waiting for his next message was excruciating. He clearly wrote and deleted a few sentences or at least words before he hit send. 
JK: OK.  JK: Will we meet? 
She couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was playing some sort of game of vigilance with her and it took all her remaining brain power to compose yet another professional and evasive reply about having to meet eventually because Joshua’s things were still in his room. He replied with another simple “ok” fifteen minutes later. 
Clearly, he had already suspected something and she just hoped that she extinguished the fire for now. Always having hated online communication, because so much was lost in translation, she thought it best to deal with this face to face when the time would come, and when she wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed and so on edge. 
The face… it suddenly occurred to her. While rubbing her temples to ease the headache, she pictured another chaotic, curly freak and the idea made her smile. Wondering if they had the same eyes and suddenly curious, she opened her laptop and typed both their names in the search bar. No, not curly. It was like opening Pandora’s box. It only added to the whirlwind she felt. 
She discovered a new version of Joshua. Several versions, actually. Cheeky, wild, flamboyant, moody. She had seen a few pictures already; they were included in that article. Nothing could prepare her for this, though. He was still there somewhere, his kind and frisky eyes still visible behind all that glitter and make-up. She knew this was probably mostly just gimmicks. A mask we all put on at work. Hers was a welcoming and competent servant. Some of it was however so far from what she knew that she made her ask herself if she really fully knew the man. His world was broad, and so was his whole personality that could fill the vast space. He came here to her ordinary corner of the planet and entered her ordinary life to pretend to be an ordinary guy for a while. It felt bittersweet. 
He took her breath away. She already knew. She had heard him. Yet she listened with her mouth open and her heart aching. He clearly had this power over people…making them ache for him. Even the people who couldn’t know him personally had that yearning written all over their hopeful faces, as he went down to hold their hands, or cheeks. Or to hug them, even. Silly girls. And boys. Agnieszka was an idiot too, but she had no regrets now. If she could ask for one more kiss, she probably would. Was it a good idea? Probably not. Did it matter? Not anymore. As long as he lived. 
It was pure, selfless love. It should have hurt, but strangely, it didn’t. It felt bittersweet. 
Bittersweet, bittersweet, bittersweet… That’s what it was. She felt mournful and strangely happy at the same time. 
Then there was Jake. It seemed like Mother Nature marveled at her creation and decided to split that miracle in two to give the world twice as much. They complemented each other. Like two celestial lights revolving around each other. It was fascinating to watch one play and the other respond. One high, the other low, or both hitting the same note, fighting for dominance under those stage lights, loud and frantic… 
She had to squeeze her eyes shut. The lack of sleep and exhaustion were surely playing tricks with her mind, because this couldn’t be possible. The other Joshua in her dream was never Joshua.   
She lost track of time, fully immersed in these new discoveries. Hours flew by and it was almost 5pm when her mother stormed into the lobby, startling her. Agnieszka jumped, taking her headphones off hastily, only to hear her mom furiously reproaching her for not taking proper care of herself. She was supposed to be in bed! Well, the doctor said… She hadn’t eaten anything yet. Again! Yeah, true, but I’m not hungry. She’s pale as a Grim Reaper. To be honest, I’m probably running on adrenaline only. I’m shaking a little. And…
“You stink! When was the last time you showered?”
The question made Agnieszka’s stomach do a backflip and she shivered at the memory. Just as she shivered when he pressed her against the tiles back up in that cottage on Gubalowka. She was involuntarily reliving it again. One hand placed between her forehead and the wet, slippery wall, the other reaching behind her to grab at his hair. Angry with him for how good he made her feel, she pulled at it until he wailed in her ear and bit her earlobe in retaliation. Unbelievably gentle one moment, he could turn to a fierce beast on the slightest impulse. It was a bit overwhelming. He didn’t know it, because he couldn’t see her face, but he made her cry. 
The fact that he made her feel cherished and worthy when he was selflessly making love to her in that pillowy bed wasn’t surprising. How could it be? Honestly, she expected he would be like that. Dominik was like that, and it was the reason why she both craved and dreaded getting physical with Joshua. She expected him to be the same, to be a sweetheart. And then, when it would be his time to leave, she expected that she wouldn’t even be able to be mad at him. Just as it was impossible to be mad at Dominik. When he died, she wanted to be berserk, to translate her pain into fury. If she could have just one more minute with him, she’d scratch his eyes out. 
And that was a lie. She’d just imagine doing that, knowing too well that he would kindly let her, and that’s why she’d never do it. A wolf while in the wild, he turned to a meek lamb when he was with her. She was treated like a doll, and also mourned like one. Meanwhile, the smouldering embers of her grief threatened to suffocate her from the inside. 
Her attempts to release that tension in the arms of other guys always worked for a while, but it never really healed her. At the end of the day, there was no one to tell her that everything would be ok, no one to stroke her hair or to kiss the tip of her nose. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t need it. And that was a lie…
Joshua was unpredictable and fierce. It was exactly this that took her breath away. Literally. With his left arm wrapped tightly around her waist, her every shallow inhale was laboured and further interrupted by his frantic pounding. She dared to fight back and he reciprocated every blow. She dug her fingernails in his forearm and he snaked his hand upwards to wrap his finger around her throat. She pulled his hair again and his next violent thrust pinned her to the cold and slippery wall. 
He opened that door, let the fresh air in and pulled her out of her self-induced confinement, all of that while taking what he wanted. But even when he was driven by this primal lust and ferociously chasing his own high, the tiniest hints and gestures kept silently screaming this is for you. A fleeting kiss on the back of her neck, his fingertips tenderly brushing over her shoulder, his nose rubbing against her cheek. He still made her feel like she mattered. Always. 
Always!
It happened just 48 hours ago, but it felt like weeks. Weeks without sleep, food or self-care. She didn’t realize she was drifting away, once again lost in her daydreaming, until she heard her mom’s suddenly soothing tone from behind her. She looked at the frozen screen with unconcealed concern and  wrapped her arms around Agnieszka’s shoulders. “Come one, Neszka, let’s clean you up. I made you some żurek.”
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Clean, fed, and put to bed with freshly washed sheets, she slept until 9 in the morning the next day. The rest of the morning passed in a haze. She tried to clear her head simply by focusing on her usual tasks and responsibilities in spite of her mother’s constant laments that she should stay in bed and rest. How could she? They needed another pair of hands, as the new guests were about to arrive, and she also needed to keep herself occupied, otherwise she’d end up watching him again. Watching them again. The dream, simply strange at first, now gave her goosebumps every time she recalled it. 
It all felt like a dream. She was in love with a dream. The new day brought a new perspective and yesterday's whirlwind of emotions now descended on her shoulders like fine dust. So much had changed, but it didn’t feel bad. It was just different. After all, she wasn’t the same person he had found here. It was time to wake up. In order to do that, she had to see him again, to tell him, to give a proper goodbye this time. She had been living in a limbo for too long. 
She tried to call the hospital, but they were no longer willing to give her any information, because they were “already in contact with Mr. Kiszka.” The nurse – however – took mercy on her, telling her at least that he was going to be transferred to a regular, semi-private room the next day, where she would be able to visit him. That meant he was recovering quickly. Thank god.
No new messages from Jake. 
It started to rain later in the afternoon, and the rising wind that came with it brought a new sense of peace. Earlier that day, mom baked sweet rolls with new blueberries and Agnieszka now found herself sitting on the veranda with a cup of steaming coffee and nibbling at the delicious pastry. And thinking. 
She had spent the last two days rethinking her life, but it was mostly just a raving mess because she’d been raving mad. Yet, strangely, everything was true. 
As the proverbial fog in her head dissipated, her senses sharpened. The cool air felt crispy and soothing on her skin, the coniferous and mildewy scents of the wet garden filled her nostrils as well as her heart. She loved this. She loved the scented valleys and the towering peaks and the bubbling streams and the smell of sour dough and smoked cheese. This was home. She took a sip of the bitter liquid and smiled. Maybe love was not such a bad idea. She could still have children whom she would show all the wonders. She could bake blueberry pastries for them and walk along the ridges with them. 
Sudden footsteps disturbed her daydreaming. 
“Hey babe.”
Bartek sat next to her without being invited to do so, but she didn’t really care. She just glanced at him and then fixed her stare on the small spruces at the back of the garden again. 
“I’m sorry you’ve had such a…uh…rough week.”
“Uh huh…”
“So…feeling better? Do you want a smoke?”
“Yeah, a bit. And no, but thank you.” She noticed a squirrel running across the garden and it made her smile again. 
“Could you at least look at me? I’m sorry for having been such an asshole, ok?. I brought you something.” 
She could feel him placing something in her lap and looked down to see a heart-shaped chocolate box. It made her snicker. What a cringy gesture. It was rude of her, but she didn’t care. “And what the hell is that?”
“A peace offering. I figured you liked presents, and maybe you would like a distraction too, hmm?” he answered and put the dishevelled strands of her hair back behind her ear. It felt invasive and humiliating all of the sudden, both his words and gestures, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep herself from splashing the still hot coffee right in his face. She had brought this upon herself though. 
“Get lost Bart,” she sighed. “You can’t buy my affection with chocolate, you did things that cannot be fixed with your apologies and I definitely don’t need nor want that kind of distraction right now.”
“What? You’re a dyke now? Certainly worked when he tried to buy your “affection” with trinkets. Did his rainbow jizz fuck up your brain?” 
It made her jump up on her feet, while tossing the box unceremoniously back at him. Pity they never really talked much. If she had known what a blinkered prick he was, she would never let him touch her with a mere tip of his finger. Maya had known all along. “Get out of my sight before I kick your ass!” 
He watched her with a crooked smile and cleared his throat before responding. “Hmm, yeah, as I said, you’re just a bitch. Great for business. Your only advantage is that you’re pretty, but that won’t last long, baby. You’re getting older. This is the last time we’re here. Expect some hearty reviews.” With that, he slowly got up and turned to leave.
“Oh I’m heartbroken,” she called after him. 
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The darkness swallowed her newfound piece and the morning sun didn’t bring it back. It was Saturday, which meant she would be able to see him at last, which meant her heart started beating fast the moment she opened her eyes and anxiety came creeping back. She even started rethinking her previous resolution to go to Krakow. 
Still no new messages from Jake. He was keeping her in the dark and she didn’t dare to call or text him. There was no objective reason to do so, and the subjective ones still scared her. Maybe going as soon as possible would ensure her a valuable moment of privacy with Joshua before Jake would arrive. 
And maybe it was a bad idea. 
It was early, so she resumed her usual routine as the work was still the best way to fight off the oppressive feelings that lay heavy on her chest. She was just changing sheets in one of the just vacated rooms and her father appeared in the doorway. 
“Are you going?”
She turned around to look at him and smiled weakly. “I’ve been thinking about it, but I have no new information and no one from his family contacted me since Thursday afternoon. Maybe I should wait. Besides, it’s Saturday and you need my help.”
He nodded his head and straightened his moustache. “Yes, that sounds reasonable…”
There was a bit “BUT” hanging in the air and she raised her eyebrows at him. He chuckled and continued. “But we’re not a reasonable lot. Your grandmother would tell you that you’re just avoiding your fears and you know she would be right.”
And that was the truth. 
“It doesn’t change the fact that you need my help. A large group from Estonia is arriving today.” She was stubborn, but she was also his daughter and he didn’t budge. 
“I’ll be fine. I’ll have Maya on the phone. Go. Just don’t tell mom. She already thinks you lost your marbles.” The moment he disappeared from the doorframe, whistling his favourite tune, her phone vibrated. 
JK: Miss Sikorska, we just landed in Krakow. Please contact me when it’s convenient. 
It was from Jake and it was strangely formal. She would swear he called her by her name when they first talked on the phone. Ok, let’s get this over with. Time to go and face them both. She sighed and slid her phone back in her jean shorts pocket before she finished the task at hand and went back to her room to get ready. 
The morning had been a bit chilly after yesterday’s storm, but the sun soon warmed the air enough to justify wearing a longer sundress, which she complemented with white canvas sneakers. 
The ride was anything but pleasant. She could feel the unpleasant cocktail of adrenaline and cortisol poisoning her body slowly, making her feel like there was lye running through her veins instead of blood. She was already nearing Krakow when her phone chimed with another text from Jake.
JK: We need to talk.
It made her suck air through her gritted teeth. So he was already there and it looked like they already talked. What more was there to tell? Maybe Joshua couldn’t remember what really happened and his brother needed the whole story. Yeah, probably. Then she remembered their phone call from a week ago which she partly overheard. Given the circumstances, having another affair that ended in him being in a hospital probably didn’t impress Jake much, either. The intrusive thoughts that it was all her fault came creeping back again, and she tried to shake them off, but her heart kept beating faster the closer she got. Ten minutes later, she finally parked the car, but it took her ten more to get out, clutching the steering wheel nervously. 
The walk through the hospital corridor was a long one, her feet clapping against the floor in spite of the fact that she wore just sandshoes. It felt like she was announcing her arrival exorbitantly. She stopped by his door, hesitating for a moment. Only after a passing nurse asked her if she needed help, she finally raised her hand and knocked three times. 
“Come in,” a friendly, woman's voice answered. Agnieszka slowly opened the door and peeked inside. Noticing the other patient first, she greeted him with a hushed and bashful Dzień dobry, before she stepped inside and looked around. “Hey, I’m…” The room fell quiet immediately. And it was…crowded. Her eyes fell on Joshua first. His expression was unreadable. There was a mixture of amiability and sadness in his eyes, and his jaw clenched. A kind-looking woman, who was undoubtedly his mother, greeted her with a friendly and polite, yet reserved smile. Then there was Jake, looking first at his brother, then at her, watching her as if she was a wasp that just flew into the room, and… her stomach sank the moment she saw him in the farthest corner. A taller man in a linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves that revealed his toned arms, decorated with beaded and woven bracelets, his dark hair tied in a messy low bun. He looked at her with polite confusion and she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his eyes were. His features were just as baby face as Joshua’s, but overall a bit more distinctive. He looked indigenous. There was no denying who he was. She suddenly wished she possessed the ability to vanish into thin air. This was a terrible mistake. A complete lack of judgement on her part. Maybe she really was losing her marbles. What if Joshua in fact didn’t want her here at all. The possibility hadn’t occurred to her for one second, and now she felt completely and utterly stupid. Fuck!
Jake was the first one to approach her and extended his hand formally. “You must be Agnieszka. Pleasure to meet you,” he greeted her, while still looking like he’d rather eat glass. “It would be much more pleasurable if you informed me beforehand. Just like I did,” he added with a hiss, forcing those words through his clenched jaw. 
“Jake!” 
It always surprised her how much power Joshua’s voice held. Ever when his tone was outwardly calm, it oozed dominance. He sounded unnaturally hoarse right now and he looked so frail on that hospital bed, but it didn’t stop him from taking the reins. She desperately wanted to run to him and pull him in a tight embrace, but she knew she couldn’t. To her relief, he extended his hand and motioned her to come closer. Jake returned back to his place by the window and put on his sunglasses, which surprised her and her astonished reaction was met with a pout. 
Joshua took her hand in his and turned to the woman sitting to his left, which made her feel even more uneasy…if that was even possible. “Mom, this is Olalla, the girl who found and saved me.” A bit melodramatic. I didn’t save you. He smiled at her and his mother mirrored him, asking her to tell them more about what really happened. 
She tried. Omitting the details that were not to be told in that room, she tried to explain everything from the moment they noticed he was missing to the arrival of the mountain rescue. In the meantime, Joshua tried to tell her something with just his eyes and it didn’t escape Christopher’s attention. He looked at her, then back at Joshua, and his face turned to stone. Jake noticed too.
“I think we’ll just go get your stuff now, Josh. What do you think, Miss Sikorska?” 
Josh cast him a wary look and Jake reciprocated. They glared at each other for a few seconds before he continued: “It’s a bit crowded here, and I’m sure you’ll appreciate having your stuff back. We’ll be back soon.” With that he motioned to Agnieszka to follow him out the door. She couldn’t refuse. 
Only when they were a safe distance from Josh’s room, walking side by side down the long corridor that led to the main staircase, he continued: “When you called, you somehow forgot to mention how well you two know each other.”
She swallowed hard. “It wasn’t relevant.”
“I think it is.” 
He didn’t say anything else until they got in the car, and it felt longer than the whole ride there.It was excruciating, and he seemed as if he reveled in it. Still hiding behind his shades, hands in his pockets, he was driving her crazy with his aloof demeanour. They shared similar features, yet each one of them had such a unique personality that they didn’t seem like twins at all.   
When they exited the parking lot, he spoke again. “So, you fucked him, huh?” It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother answering. 
“Well, you can’t blame me for being surprised,” he added after a while. 
Focusing on driving was becoming harder the more she felt his eyes on her. “I don’t. To be honest, I still don’t understand why he was ever interested in me.” She kept her eyes on the road, not daring to look at him. The past tense was a deliberate choice. She wanted to let him know she knew her place. He passed that over in silence. 
“Well, I do. You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman, if you don’t mind me saying that, and my brother has a weakness for beautiful things.”
That made her look at him, just to see him grinning at her. Without being able to see his eyes, she couldn’t tell what he was really up to, so she tried to lighten the mood a bit. It was a feeble attempt, but worth a try. “Are you hitting on me?”
It made him burst out laughing. “Is it working?”
“No.”
Then I’m not.” 
After another moment of silence, he put the sunglasses off and looked directly at her. “But I do make you nervous. Why?”
She clutched the steering wheel. So many reasons; none of them she could possibly tell him. “I’m aware that you don’t like me. It’s pretty obvious. And I understand why, because I clearly overstepped. I repent, ok?”
“Fair enough.” 
After a while, he pointed at the phone on her console. “Any pictures in there? Or, perhaps, videos?”
“No!” He was making her blood boil now.
“You should know that…”
“I know who he is, I know who you are, and I know what happened…”
“Well, that’s the point…”
“No, it’s not! I didn’t know until Tuesday! And I know now only because he told me!” Well, that’s almost true. 
“Really!?”
Yeah, really, you fucker. Believe it or not, it was not just fucking. “Look, I’m not stupid. I knew from the start that this would be just a temporary fling.” She cringed at the word she used. A greater part of her adulthood was filled with temporary flings, and this was not that. To be honest, she didn’t know what to call it.  “I don’t want anything from him, from you, from anyone… All I want now is to talk to him. I need to…I need to thank him.”
“For…”
“None of your business,” she quickly interrupted him and he cleared his throat to retaliate, his nostrils flaring, so she quickly added: “I’m sorry, it’s just deeply personal. Believe it or not, we shared more than just bodily fluids.”
Jake scoffed, cleared his throat and looked out the side window at the hills that appeared on the west. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” She didn’t counter that. 
They went silent again for another few minutes before she mustered enough courage to ask: “So…they’re back together?” 
“We arrived just two hours before you appeared there,” he looked at her as if she was dense, then added: “But I’m hopeful they will.” 
Agnieszka took a deep breath and bit her lip. Bittersweet, bittersweet, bittersweet. He deserves it.  “That’s good. I’m glad.” 
Jake cast her another wary side glance but didn’t say anything. After several more excruciating minutes, she broke the silence one more time. “I need to talk to him. In private, I mean.”
“Not the best time.” 
“I figured…maybe another day?”
“Maybe.” Jake was evidently a man of a few words. He was definitely not willing to make it any easier for her. She couldn’t blame him though. He must have thought her an intruder, and that’s exactly what she was, to be honest. That man was from his world. She would never be. 
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When they arrived, she ushered him straight to Joshua’s room. As they went up the stairs and he took his glasses off again, she noticed how worn and distressed he really looked. “Umm, do you need anything? Tea? Coffee? You must be hungry, too. I can make you a supper if you want.”
“That’s kind, thank you, but I’m good,” he replied wearily as they reached the final landing. She nodded and unlocked the door.
“So, here it is. I’m going to go wait in the lobby.” The room was just as Joshua left it on Wednesday morning. Entering the guests’ rooms was against the rules unless they specifically asked to have them cleaned, so she didn’t date to pack his stuff. Not that she hadn’t broken the rule before when she went there to fetch his clothes for him, but Jake didn’t need to know that. 
The attic room was small and the air in it a bit stifled after days with the only window closed. As soon as she opened the door, they were welcomed with the unmistakable scent of him: his unwashed clothes from previous days mixed with his sweet, oriental cologne. It was too much, and she excused herself quickly when her stomach turned into a knot. He had left such an imprint here, and now it was finally over. No time left for them.
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Jake didn’t bother with folding Josh’s clothes, he just threw them into the suitcase in bundles, just as he picked them up from the floor, or chairs, or the bed. He wanted to spend as little time as possible in that place. Opening the upper, half closed drawer of a large wooden dresser, where Josh had put his underwear, he found his journal thrown casually on a pile of socks. 
He was usually allowed to read those pages; he had done that many times before. Granted, it was generally with Josh open permission, but still. They had no secrets between them. Until recently. Obviously, a lot had happened here during just one week and Josh hadn’t called just once since last Saturday. So, naturally, Jake was curious. He sat down in the bed and opened the notebook. 
The first thing he noticed were new, revised lyrics to a song they had written together two weeks ago. It was a very personal piece, for both of them. Sad, too. But the ending was supposed to be hopeful, just like Tears of Rain. And that’s how Josh wrote it at first. But then he completely changed it, and now the last verse was just pure misery and doom. Was it really worth it to come here, alone? Are you happier now, brother? 
He turned the page to the last entry and his jaw clenched as he started reading his brother’s rambling about needing a break and having to step away to evaluate shit. 
The new album was out and plenty of work ahead of them. It was bad enough that Jake now had to have the whole leg of an upcoming tour canceled, but learning about Josh’s plans to leave the band for a while was the last straw. Well, you can’t, you fucker. We have a contract. However, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t. Josh never cared about things he was forced to do, which would mean that everything would go in vain, because he’d ruin it anyway with his blatant indifference.
Now it was Jake’s turn to feel hopeless, but as he always preferred anger to misery, he chose to be livid instead, quickly turning his fury towards the only person whom he illogically decided to be responsible for all that shit. She looked like a veela, and she undoubtedly was one, both enchanting and deadly! Fucking bitch! 
He quickly packed the rest of Josh’s things and stormed downstairs, only to find her arguing with a bunch of guys. Still on the stairway, he saw her slap the face of the one that stood nearest to her, and as soon as he entered the lobby, all eyes turned to him. She looked shaken, the guy next to her greeted him with a venomous glare and his two buddies looked at him from head to toe and smirked.
“Ach, I see, Olalla. You’re quick!” one of them said loudly in English and sneered. He turned to Jake then, resting his eyes on Jake’s nearly unbuttoned shirt.  “Probably had to try the other one, because his brother’s limp dick…” 
He didn’t even realize what he was doing until his fist collided with the guy’s chin. Soon he felt another blow reverberate the bones of his own jaw and the impact made him bite his tongue in surprise. Agnieszka was shouting something, but he didn’t understand and he didn’t care, being locked with someone else’s body and thrown against a table a moment later. Whatever she screamed, it clearly worked, as they quickly left the two of them alone. 
Spitting blood, he slowly straightened, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spat at her: “I’ve had enough!” 
“Jake, please...”
“I’m Mr. Kiszka to you. I’m taking an uber back to Krakow. Or a taxi …or whatever you got here. I just need a phone number.” 
So that’s how it was going to end. He told her she was not welcome, and snapped the last feeble thread that she was holding onto. It was definitive, and it would all end without the only thing that really kept her sane – the closure she so desperately needed. “Alright…?... but it’s over 100 kilometres. I can drive you back…I…,” she offered, her voice already trembling.
“There’s no need. Just give me the number.” His voice was cold and his face looked like a stone. She desperately searched it for clues, but if there were any, they were hidden behind his shades that he put back on. The silence he kept felt like a roar that rattled her bones. This was turning into a nightmare, but she functioned on autopilot, turning around to get one of the leaflets they had prepared for their guests. She handed it to him with shaking hands. 
“Thank you for everything Miss Sikorska. Your services are no longer needed.” With that, he grabbed the handle of Josh’s suitcase, turned to the door and left. 
Mom found her sitting in the corner behind the counter an hour later. 
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The sun was already setting when Jake arrived at the hospital, finding his mother sitting on a bench in the hall outside Josh’s room.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” They were allowed in Josh’s room this late only because the other patient agreed. Having travelled around the world to see their son and brother was a rather convincing argument. Nevertheless, wandering around the corridors wasn’t exactly part of the deal. 
“I just needed a minute,” she sighed, stretching her legs before her. She looked unnaturally pensive, just like when she worried that he wouldn’t graduate and pleading or yelling at him no longer worked. 
“Why? Something happened?”
Ignoring his question, she glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s the girl?”
Ok, whatever this was, it was not good. He must have told her and that probably meant she wasn’t the only other person who knew. “I took a taxi. She stayed in Zakopane. Whyy…?”
“Was it her decision?”
He looked in her eyes and felt like a little boy again. This wasn’t right. She should be on his side. He did the right thing. “No…”
“Oh Jake…”
This was bad. He had a BAD feeling. What did the idiot do?! Ignoring his mom’s feeble attempts to stop him, he sprinted into Josh’s room, bursting the door open and earning a string of incoherent reproaches from Josh’s room mate. Josh was sitting cross-legged on his bed with his head bent down, examining his palms as if they held the answers to his questions or something. He looked up slowly, a bewildered expression on his face. His eyes were dry, but still red and puffy. It was quite obvious that he had been crying. A lot. But most importantly, he was alone. “Where’s Christopher?” 
“I…he…is Olalla coming?” Josh’s tone was feeble and strangely monotonous, almost stripped of all colour. He was emotionally exhausted to the point of being almost indifferent. 
“Answer my question!” Jake was already raising his own voice, ignoring their mom who grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, trying to shush him. He gripped the top rail of the second chair to keep himself grounded, but his pursed lips and flared nostrils told Josh there was a storm raging behind his brother's cold appearance. 
Josh could feel another wave of nausea gripping at his insides. The headache was slowly creeping back again and he had to take a few deep breaths first, while Jake kept looking daggers at him. “I…well, he’s not stupid! He kinda figured what’s going on, Jake. Not that I denied anything, I couldn’t do that…,” he tilted his head back down as another sob ripped through his chest. “He’s probably on his way to the airport right now.”
Jake punched the wall, oblivious to the fact that Josh’s roommate was holding his remote, already alarming the nurses. “You’re a fucking idiot!”
“Why? Is Neszka mad? I need to tell her what I told him. I need to be sincere with her too.” 
Jake just scoffed, shaking his head while still gripping the backrest. 
“WHERE’S OLALLA, JAKE?!?”
“She’s not coming.” 
Josh watched him for a few seconds, his face slowly turning from angry to hopeless. He heaved then, and only managed to lean over the bed before he threw up on the floor.
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@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas @wetkleenex-gvf
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royaldaycare · 20 days
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WELCOME TO MY BLOG!
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Hello !! I'm Logan (or Johnny!) and welcome to my daycare! you can call me Logan, Lo, Johnny, big brother or dada! I also occasionally go by saint or my OC's callsign, Sparrow!
A little about me ! :
I use he/they/it pronouns as well as some neo's and xeno's too!
I'm trans, gay and asexual! I'm also questioning whether I am poly or not!
I am an age regressor and a caregiver! (my agere blog is @gh0stlyb34r !)
I'm 19 and my birthday is June 3rd!
I'm from the uk!
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my anons! ;
💚 ,
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I am a 100% sfw caregiver! any nsfw accounts will be blocked!
This blog is a safe space for regressors and caregivers alike! anyone that makes this blog an unsafe place will be blocked immediately
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My rules!
dni ; nsfw, edsh, zionist, racist, homophobic, against Palestine, transphobic, ableist, trump supporters, anti agere, ddlg/abdl accounts, anti petre
boundaries ; keep all terms used for me either masc or gender neutral, do not flirt with me (even if it is as a joke or friendly), please keep all asks sfw.
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My interests!
games ; call of duty, overwatch, resident evil 4, forza horizon, roblox (royale high, dress to impress, obby's and tycoons!), fnaf, poppy playtime, indigo park, red dead redemption 2, animal crossing new horizons, good pizza great pizza, hogwarts legacy, valorant, a little to the left, unpacking, mario kart 8, mario kart wii, just dance, the last of us
movies/shows ; deadpool & wolverine, deadpool, x-men, harry potter, fantastic beasts, atsv/itsv, marvel, star wars, the umbrella academy, stranger things, the batman, titains, heartstopper, young royals, criminal minds, fnaf, arcane, ghostbusters, barbie, oppenheimer, nimona, christopher robin
musicals ; les miserables, hamilton, waitress, the greatest showman, la la land, hairspray, dear even hansen, heathers, high school musical, lemonaid mouth, annie, descendants, beetlejuice, mama mia, tick tick boom, into the woods, mean girls, in the heights, little shop of horrors
youtubers ; pezzy, elasticdroid, puffer, grizzy, smii7y, gtlive, game theory, warn, frogger, aspen, beaplays, dawko, ethan nestor, blarg, thedooo, coleydoesthings, film cooper, dechart games, hthaze, james marriott
musicians ; james marriott, taylor swift, mcr, twenty one pilots, billie eilish, hozier, noah kahan, sleeping at last, the smiths, laufey, chappell roan, bruno major, paramore, novo amor, depeche mode, p!atd, daughter, djo, feels like july, florence the machine, frank sinatra, gerard way, ghost, lady gaga, lemon demon, lily allen, maya hawke, 1d, 5sos, mitski, micheal jackson, sleep token, taylor austen dye
misc ; books, dolls (monster high, lol, rh), pop figures, lego, posters, flowers, pin badges, jewellery, halloween, fall/autumn, deco pacis, colouring
DISCLAIMER ; I hold all of my faves accountable! I do not support jkr, noah schnapp ect!
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My faves !
celebs/authors ; pedro pascal, hugh jackman, ryan reynolds, ali hazelwood, kit connor, oscar isaac, hayden christensen, ewan mcgregor, tom hiddleston, andrew garfield, tom holland, aiden gallagher, eddie redmane, aaron tveit, erik j brown, david tennant, josh hutcherson, david harbour, wynina ryder, natalia dyer, maya hawke, matthew gray gubler, thomas gibson, aj cook, barry sloane, neli ellice
characters ; John 'Soap' MacTavish, Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Captain John Price, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Robin Buckley, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Loki, Logan Howlett, Scott Summers, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Ben Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, Newt Scamander, Din Djarin, Deadpool, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Danny Zuko, Jean Valjean, Ben Florian, Flynn Rider, Aziraphale, Crowley, Nick Nelson, Charlie Spring, Diego Hargreeves
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dividers and Lydia banner by @kodaswrld <3 bj banner
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