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#It's just Extremely yellowed haha

kylelover · 1 year

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MAIN 4 SP BOYS FIRST TIME CUDDLING WITH READER.

hey! Hope you guys like this:) it's my first time writing these hdjssb

STAN MARSH

It was a rainy day outside and you were hanging out at your boyfriends house

which smelled a lot like weed (and pine trees for some reason...) but you got used to it

You were sitting on his sofa watching a true crime movie (he literally forced you to watch it with him)

He sat on one edge of the sofa and you on the other

Stan was focused on the screen, and he suddenly noticed you moved closer to him

You put your head on his chest and your arm around his neck

Stan's cheeks went from normal tint to a crimsom red. He was blushing really bad, and he looked cute.

He really didnt know what to do

He put his arm around your waist and pulled you closer

You guys were infatuated with each others scent

He smelled like lavender and a soft touch of alcohol... it was... comforting in some way

And you were using your iconic perfume/cologne

You were staring at the screen, your head on Stan's shoulder. His eyes were staring at you the whole time, he was mesmerized.

He started feeling light-headed, and felt like there was a knot on his throat.

He was feeling nauseous.

Uh, Oh.

He knew what was coming, Stan didnt want you to see him puke so he always tried to hide it from you, however, it was kind of obvious.

"Sorry babe, I'll be right back."

He got up from the sofa, bad idea. He instantly vomited on the counter.

He was so embarrassed 😭 you comforted him and told him it was okay, which made him feel kind of better about it.

After that, his nauseas became less intense, and both lovers cuddled all night.

KYLE BROFLOVSKI

Team Stan was doing a sleepover at Cartmans house. All of you had sleeping bags

Kyle had his old Terrence and Phillip one, Stan had a light yellow one and Kenny a dusty violet sleeping bag.

And, of course, Cartman slept on his bed with extremely comfortable pillows.

You and your friends were playing video games, a fighting one to be more specific.

since it was only for 4 players you guys took turns.

You were scrolling on your phone, sitting on the sofa and every once in a while watched how the boys played.

"PLAYER 3, ELIMINATED." the sudden noise made you flinch a little bit.

"Dude, are you serious?" Kyle huffed. "Haha, yes! That's for killing me last round, asshole!" The chubby boy laughed and celebrated after eliminating the ginger haired boy.

You heard a sigh near you.

"Hello, love." Kyles voice cracked a little bit since he sat down next to you a little roughly

'Love' oh, how you adored him calling you that. Kyle always used those nicknames with you, such as princess, dear, sometimes even babe.

"Hey." you answered softly.

Instantaneously, you felt weight on your shoulders.

Kyle was a tryhard when it came to fighting videogames, so he was a little tired.

You put your arm around his and grabbed his hand. He nuzzled his head on your neck and whispered, "Sorry, is it okay if I just– if we cuddle?" The boy was nervous. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable by just hugging you randomly.

"Yeah, it's fine." you smiled back at him.

Now, there was a tired boy with his head resting on your shoulder, you on his arms as he held you like he was protecting you.

You could feel his soft, curly haired locks touch your skin in such a gentle way. It tickled your cheek a little...

You felt secured around him, and he did as well.

ERIC CARTMAN

You were watching meme videos while sitting on his bed

Cartman had cuddled a few times he already knew what to do (cough, cough... heidi), so when you asked him if you could cuddle, he wasn't shocked, I mean, who wouldn't want to do it with him, right? (Only you do)

It was 4am so both of you guys were tired, he just nodded slightly at your response which meant yes.

You immediately threw your arms around him and put your head on his soft chest

You never knew why??? he was??? so comfy?? he felt like a pillow.

Cartman moved his arm to grab your arm slightly.

You closed your eyes as the boy watched his videos in silence.

It was rare the moments like these that you had with him since he doesn't want to look "weak" around people. So you appreciated every tiny bit of it.

His scent filled your nose with satisfaction, he always smelled like a combination of cookies and his mothers clothing perfume.

You could hear as the crickets sang, the branches moved slowly and hit the window with almost no impact, the sound of Eric's phone. It all echoed on your ear.

It felt so normal, even though it was the first time you guys did this.

The sounds became more muffled as your eyes started closing. The sound of his heart started fading more and more.

Then, you fell asleep, next to your beloved boyfriend.

KENNY MCCORMICK

Today was a really snowy day. And that was bad. Atleast for South Park High.

The doors were all locked since they were being covered by snow on the outside.

The school told everyone to calm down and that they were all staying in the gym at the moment until the snowfall is over.

Which meant you had to sleep over in school.

You and Kenny were sitting side by side, with your backs against the wall.

The lights were dimmed and sometimes they flickered.

You and him were chatting casual stuff.

Kenny looked at you for a long while, which made you question him.

"Is something wrong?" He nodded his head "My back kinda hurts." He looked tired, like at any given moment he would just collapse.

"Oh lord, i didnt even notice how exhausted you looked... Kenny, if your back hurts maybe you can sleep on top of me?"

You didnt realise how straightforward you were. Kenny looked at you warmly, he loved how caring you were towards him.

"I'd love to be on top of you" He smirked as he moved in front of you and slowly put his head on your lap.

You giggled softly at him, lord, he was such a character.

You were kind of nervous... butterflies building up on your stomach. Kenny always looked so pretty, you never knew how he did it to be so good-looking at all times.

He looked up and smiled at you, his crooked teeth showing up. You always thought he looked cute when he did this as you could see his dimples perfectly.

You played with his hair, it was so soft and fluffy.

His hair always looked so messy yet so nice.

You didnt even notice you were staring until he remarked it.

"Hey, dont need to stare so hard, I wont leave."

You ruffled his hair. "Oh, shut. I love you."

He sat up straighter as you hugged him from behind and he held your hands delicately.

Kenny always felt so giddy and goofy when he was around his partner, especially right now since he had realised you were cuddling, but tried to play it cool.

And you stayed like that for hours. Just rambling and talking about stuff you like.

You didnt realise time went so fast that the birds started chirping. God, you really spoke until 7am? Especially when you spent it with people you loved, even more if it was Kenny.

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sinnersweets · 2 months

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DogDay x Reader part 2

A/N: Highly requested so here you guys go! Enjoy!

<----part 1 part 3---->

DogDay led me outside of the Playhouse and back outside into Playcare. A few feet in front of us was a chicken. A tall yellow chicken. Ah, that must have been KickinChicken. “Hiya KC!” DogDay was still holding my hand but with his other he waved extremely fast to KickinChicken. “Sup DD! Hey, finally got yourself a helper now huh? ‘Bout time dude.” KickinChicken then handed off the kids too, I’m assuming his helper. His helper also matched him as well. Guess that was the uniform for us working with these...tall animal mascots.

Kickinchicken walked up to me and DogDay. “Names Kickinchicken, the cool member of the Smiling Critters.” DogDay laughed when he said that. “Go on Angel, introduce yourself.” I wasn’t used to seeing animals so tall, it scared me a little. I held out my free hand to KickenChicken and summoned some courage to talk.

“Hello, I’m Y/N or Angel, doesn’t really matter what you call me. Nice to meet you.” KickenChicken then slapped my hand with his and started to make a handshake with me. I mirrored his movements to understand this new handshake I was given. “Haha, she’s pretty cool DD, you got yourself a rad helper.” He then looked at me up and down. “Not bad looking either.” KickenChicken smiled at me. I was going to comment on that, but DogDay beat me too it. “Look at the time! You better hurry along to your group now KC, don’t want our little friends upset now do we?” “Right, well nice meeting ya Y/N, we’ll chat later.” he spoke as he walked back to his group and helper. DogDay squeezed my hand a bit before leading us to the center of Playcare. “On with the tour!”

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

DogDay first showed me the statue in the center. It was all the Smiling Critters. There were eight of them in total: DogDay the leader, Bobby Bearhug the loving one, KickenChicken was the cool one, Hoppy Hopscotch the energetic one, CraftyCorn was the artist in the group, Bubba Bubbaphant the smart one, PickyPiggy the foodie, and lastly there was CatNap, DogDays bestest friend. He supposably makes sure that everyone else gets a good night's rest every day to ensure that they are ready for the next day.

Next, we went into the Toy Store. DogDay was tall, so he had to walk on all fours. “This is where the children can come and buy some sweet toys of yours truly, and the others!” I smiled and looked around. Sure enough there were plushies of DogDay and the rest of the group. There were also some other toys like a blue limp doll, a dinosaur that matched the lamps outside, what looked like a cat and a bee mixed, and other toys. I picked up a smaller version of DogDay and looked at it. “You said the kids buy these?” “Uh-huh! We give them play money to use around here, that way when they get adopted, they’ll know about the real world and how to manage their expenses.” That was smart of them. I set the plushie back down and followed DogDay outside.

We then looked at the consoler's office and school. DogDay told me that the consolers office was where the staff would put their belongings in and where parents would go to adopt a child. Only DogDay was allowed in the consoler's office, none of the other Smiling Critters could go in there. I’m not sure why but I didn’t question it. “The school is where the children spend most of their time. I’d take you inside so you could meet Miss Delight and her sisters, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her teachings.” “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get to meet them one day.”

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

It was now naptime for the children which meant that the Smiling Critters could step away and hang out all together and just relax. I was in the consolers office to check out my assigned office. Each helper had their own office to get away to when needed. Outside my door was a card that had ‘Welcome’ on the front. I picked it up and walked into my new office. I took a look around, nice office, however what stuck out to me was the big dog bed in the corner.

I was about to walk over to it until I heard a knock at the door. I set down the card and opened the door, but no one was there. Suddenly DogDays head popped out from the side. “Hiya Angel!” “Ah-” I fell back in shock. As I laid on the floor DogDay hovered over me with a worried expression, his sun pendant laid against my chest. “Angel?! Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay??!” I did a double-blink and then slowly sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting that at all.” DogDay then held out a paw towards me to help me to my feet. I took his paw into my hand and once my hand met his paw his tail started to wag. He pulled me up to my feet and got close to me. I wasn't used to being this close to anyone, let alone a giant dog so I started to blush. This caught DogDays attention. “Angel your face is really red, are you sick?” I was starting to feel bad, not physically but mentally. I didn’t want him to be worried about me. “I-I’m fine! Really DogDay. So, um what brings you by?” I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. DogDay then smiled and leaned away from me. “I wanted to see if you liked the card we made!” I went to my desk, picked up the card and opened it. ‘Welcome newest helper, we hope that this job brings you happiness and joy as we do to our children here. We look forward to working with you, signed everyone.’ I did like the letter.

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

Me and DogDay started chatting for a while until out of nowhere, I yawned. “Oh my, sorry about that.” Guess I was starting to get a bit tired. “That’s okay Angel. There’s thirty minutes left of nap time; you should rest up!” A power nap did sound good. I nodded and told DogDay that he should go back to his friends, but he shook his head no and picked me up and walked over to the dog bed in the corner. Should’ve known it was his.

“I’d rather spend my free time with you Angel, plus as your boss you have no say.” He stuck his tongue out and booped my nose with his paw. My face got warm again. He then laid down on his bed and laid me in between his front paws. “You can rest with me Angel; I’ve been told that I’m a very fluffy pillow.” He was very soft and the smell of vanilla on him was almost like a drug to put you to sleep, and it was working. I yawned once more and closed my eyes. DogDays head rested near me. “Rest well my Angel.” was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #x reader #dogday x reader #part 2 #smiling critters

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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I just finished reading your one piece work about how many kids they have lol , and reader seemed AWFULLY happy about how many of them there is , can you do one where reader is a long time wife/partner of them and is not very thrilled, I just need angst in my life😭💀

Ohhh I love some angst!!

It's Done

Asshole Mihawk x FemReader

Angst + Saddness

Support me in Ko-Fi ....haha I'm Poor-

It was rare for you to summon him- As his wife he was used to you being one to not speak with him much. In the past you'd been a chatterbox much to his annoyance, but greatful you had quieted down over the coming years. However when the Transponder Snail on his desk informed him that you'd requested him he was surprised if not mildly intrigued.

Marching down the hallway to you as you saw you, dressed like you were preparing to go outside and eating a fine charcuterie board and sipping on one of his best bottles of wine- much to his ire.

You look up from your glass of wine. Seeing Mihawk step into the room with a bottle of his own drink of choice- Silence filling the room as he looked you over.

"You wished for me wife?" He questioned with his usual stoic manner.

"Another letter- This time a women from East Blue, it's a girl" You say blandly, Tossing the letter on the table as you set down your glass. He didn't seem amused by this, only giving a annoyed sigh and stepping forward prepared to grab the letter however you slammed a manilla envelope on top of the letter before he grabbed it. Yellow eyes looked at you annoyed-

"What is this?-"

He grumbled, you waving off his question for him to just open it. Grabbing the manilla envelope he proceeded to open it, His eyes widening at the stack of papers inside and seeing in bold letters what was written on top. Divorce Decree-

"(Y/N) What is the meaning of this" He hissed and tossed the envelope back down on the table, You pouring yourself another glass of wine.

"Divorce papers, I've already taken the liberty of filling my name on it already" He picked them up again to look for himself- seeing you had indeed signed all the papers already.

You stayed calmly, his face swirling with emotions as he held the papers with a tightened grasp. Clearly anger bubbling below the surface.

"This seems like a extreme reaction to a small issue" He stated calmly, You raising a brow at his statement as you sipped your drink and ate some more of the charcuterie board you'd laid out for yourself.

"Is it?" You question, eating some more till Mihawk reached over and slid the board away from you to stop eating as he stared hard at you- your hands quick to grab your wine glass too before he took that.

"This is a one time thing, it was a drunken-"

"87" You said calmly, drinking down your final glass of wine. He looked at you in question.

"Pardon?-"

"This is your 87th child with a stranger. 48 boys, 39 girls- 25 in the East Blue, 21 in the west, 30 in the North and 11 throughout the Grandline" You recited calmly, his face going to one of shock at hearing your words so blandly spoken or that you knew to the agree of unfaithful he was.

"So what was that about this being the final one?" You ask, standing from your chair to knock the crumbs off your outfit.

"It is natural in wanting to spend time with someone who can provide-" He stated as he watched you prepare to leave.

"Well then its natural that I want a divorce, it's not MY fault that you can't go a few days without fucking some stranger or that you seem to like to like to get every person you meet pregnant" You hissed, Mihawk glaring at you.

"And It is not my fault you are barren- So dont blame me that I spread my legacy elsewhere" He shot back, His words like that final knife to your heart as you stood in the doorway. Mihawk regretted those words the moment they left him, sighing as he rubbed his temple his lips feeling like fire for saying such a thing.

"That.. isnt what I ment I apo-"

"Dont- You're right it's not your fault... just how it's not my fault you're a cheater bastard. We are done Mihawk. My stuff has already been packed and sent away, I will he out of here by tonight" You stated calmly and leaving your library one last time-

"(Y/N)! This is utterly childish and ridiculous" He angrily yelled as he followed you down the hallway. You just grabbing the last suitcase you had set by your former bedroom door.

He grabbed your wrist suddently to stop you from stepping further but you spun around and smacked him hard. The wedding ring still on your hand slicing him across the cheek, as he quickly released your wrist to touch the bloody cut.

You slid off the ring, ignoring the tinge of his blood in it and slammed it into his free hand.

"You will never touch me again-" You all but hiss, disgust dripping from your lips like a venom that shot through his vains.

"(Y/N) it is ignorant to give up an entire relationship for a character flaw- I've been a good husband in other regards" You couldn't help but snort a laugh at this-

"You a good husband? Please tell me, when is my birthday? When was the last time we had sex? Last time you kissed me, Hell last time you even uttered the words I love you? Oh here's a good one when did we get married?" You ask him, He opened his mouth but he couldn't think of an answer to any of those- You smiled sarcastically.

"I thought so... By the way, Our wedding anniversary is today"

His heart sank.. was it really?... he relooked at the divorce papers to see the date of Marriage and he felt a burn of guilt in his chest at the sight- indeed it was today.. 20 years to the day.

He opened his lips to try and conjoure up words to wipe away his actions but he couldnt.. instead looking to your eyes and that's when it hit him- He was no better then a stranger to you seeing the indifference in your gaze at him- Not angry, not sad but just.. indifferent like he was just another person to you.

Sensing that he now understood the true gravity of this all you nod, Grabbing your coat from the rack and slipping it on and set down your copy of the keys to the manor on the side table.

"...You have a wonderful rest of your life Mr. Dracule" You say sternly before walking out of the manor, the Warlord only standing there in a state of shock as his world suddently got so much darker.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #riding the angst train #angst #Mihawk angst

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thelampisaflashlight · 4 months

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Some Aether, Mountain, and Dew specific headcanons. Let's go.

-Since they were all brought into the band around the same time -Mountain was already on the surface, just working elsewhere in the ministry, Aether was freshly summoned as apprentice to Omega, and Dew was working as a tech/Mists understudy- they weren't so much forced together, but, rather, felt like they needed to stick with one another, least in the beginning.

Aether and Dew quickly developed a dynamic that they could play off of on stage, and while Mountain can't exactly get up and mess with them, too, he's very much aware of everything they're up to and gets a kick out of it.

-Aether is, believe it or not, as much of a "bully" as Dew when it comes to antagonizing the other two; It's very much a mutual, "Haha, I'm gonna get you-" thing, and it's rarely taken too an extreme.

-When the three of them go to festivals and such together, it's never Dew that gets lost, it's always Mountain and then Aether, in that order, but if they find each other while looking for Dew, then they tease HIM for getting lost.

He hates it.

-One of them knows how to drive, but it's anyone's guess who's legally allowed to.

Does Dew have a license?

Surely Aether...

Mountain?

Spoiler: It's Dew.

Dew is the one with a driver's license, but he refuses to drive... because he has to wear prescription glasses, because, "Fuck you, I can see fine, I have demon eyes!" -squints at a sign- "It's all this fucking blue light, I swear to Satan-"

He has to wear the yellow tinted lenses.

And lastly;

-They all have one (1) "old man hobby" that they only let the other two know about.

Mountain makes yarn and knits.

Aether does cross stitch and embroidery.

And Dew paints.

They're all pretty well versed at their individual hobbies, and will sometimes make things to be sold around holidays/festivals for charity or to help fund their secret fishing trip.

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons

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geodraws04 · 16 days

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PKMN ScarVio DLC AU ~ Possessed!Kieran

Just finished the page for my contribution to the good ol’ Toxic Chain theory :OOO

I recently finished the Teal Mask and finishing up the Indigo Disk DLC and while i really did like the fact that Kieran’s actions were all his own and makes him a much more realistic/relatable character, I am feeling a little robbed we didn't get a possessed!kieran + i really did not like the direction they took w/ Mochi Mayhem. I felt like it was WAAAY too silly/comedic for my tastes (if you liked it more power to you tho!), and wish we had more lore/backstory and involvement of Pecharunt and the Loyal 3 respectivally.

so i wanted to try killing two birds with one stone and try to mash ID and MM together somewhat! So heres some sketches and concept stuff ft. My PKMN!Violet sona. And also make this AU ANGSTY AS FUCK-

im not a comedy/crack/silly person when it comes to stories involving manipulation/mind control type of stuff because i just get second hand embarressment for those under doing wierd stuff while not aware so if your looking for a “silly haha!” AU with this type of concept ive got bad news for ya… this AU aint gonna be for you-

Starting off… my design for when Kieran is fully possessed by Pecharunt!

I still really liked the fact that Kieran was like. FULLY aware and in his own mind/body during ID; so i want to keep that in this AU too - for the most part.

id like to think that once making a deal with Pecharunt and offering himself to it in order to become stronger, the little peach would slowly feed him mochi that would “numb the pain and guilt if he ever feels doubtful.” At the time of Pecharunt’s debut to the start of ID, pecharunt is extremely weak and thus, its influence isnt as effective or strong. However, when we meet Kieran again, he’s definately beginning to change. throughout the story, we see Kieran’s spiraling descent into madness as he becomes more intimidating and cynical.

i dont have a specific spot where hed have this outfit change, but ill figure it out lol.

However, i def think it would be a bit after his panic attack/mental break down when we defeat him. Since at this point he couldnt uphold his end of the deal with Pecharunt, it has no choice: he offered his body and mind to it to get stronger, but he couldnt keep it up. So now, he has to pay the price.

(This would be right after the Ex-Champ bit - fuck you Draydon)

however, instead of telling himself to get stronger like in canon… he mumbles something indescernable and unintelligable… and then he starts… laughing?

“K-Kieran…?”

“Uh… yo, earth to ex-champion… you doin’ alright-?”

Suddenly… he glares at us… no. He glares at you, tears streaming down his face but an animalistic and crazily wide smile is plastered on his face as he stumbles back up, hugging himself while letting out what one would think is the most maniacal, despairing, crazy cackling laughter one could hear.

That's when you see it - his eyes, formally a light yellow, now a bright yet darkly sinister shade of violet-magenta. The scrunchie he was wearing began growing two strings of toxic chains that waved around like tentacles, and lifted him up in the air like stilts, purple smoke filling the area.

what was happening… whats happened to Kieran.

no, whatever that was…

Thats not Kieran.

The bottom sketch is a small scenario i had in mind!

i want pecharunt to have a larger role so here they are! After returning the teal mask to me and carmine and running off, he stumbles upon an injured and weak Pecharunt, and secretly nurses it back to health. Behind everyone’s backs the two spark a friendship/partnership!

i like to think pecharunt has good intentions and did genuinely want to help kieran get stronger, but i like to think that the toxins it gave to Kieran not only began to mess with Kieran’s mind, but with Pecharunt’s too.

how exactly? No idea just yet lol- ill figure that out later on down the line lol. Along with the loyal 3’s roles in the story as well.

Heres a few for fun and more funny sketches i made to fill up the empty space lol-

also feat. Moi, yuma and shinigami jykghhfjhfdjhygjuy-

QUICK DISCLAIMER! IM NOT SHIPPING MYSELF W/ KIERAN SINCE HES IMPLIED TO BE A TEEN AND IM A LEGAL ADULT!! the DLC came out when i was 17; almost 18 (released a few days before my bday actually!)

i like to think that when this story and AU respectively take place, Kieran is 14 while im 16 turning 17 that fall in Teal Mask (Carmine being 18 or 19?), then in Indigo Disc Kieran is 16, im 18, and Carmine is 19/20. So me and kieran are 2 years apart, while me and Carmine are 1-2 years apart.

Its mostly because id like to think me and kieran’s dynamic is similar to a close friend i have irl and wanted to write it as such while retaining the canon story too. If that makes sense lol.

And one more sady drawing when kieran is freed from Pecharunt’s control!

i think i speak for everyone that we needed a scene where we hugged kieran after all the shit he’s been through-

justice for my baby boy kieran. :,,,))

AAAAAAANNNNNNDDDDD THATS ALL I GOT FOR NOW!!

what do yall think :000

any suggestions/ideas, critiques, whatever is on your mind about this AU is appreciated!! Im gonna get back to my remnant designs lol-

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heartshapedbubble · 9 months

Note

Could I perhaps have something like those 2 long and well written Joseph and Luchino fic but with Soul Catcher? Thank you🙏

anon i am SO SORRY this took so long you might as well have my first born

also english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me i know i reuse the same words over and over 😔 reqs like these sadly clog my inbox even tho i like writing them so i'm gonna do something about them after i empty it!!

my very own prince charming, a soul catcher fanfic🧲☠️

cw for vomit mention in case you have emetophobia, reader's gender not specified although soul catcher uses a few spanish pet names (nouns) that are gendered because haha language rules, not proofread, warning for intense corniness, this is very bad i apologize, ALSO VERY LONG

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

There are amazing forces of Attraction and Repulsion between souls; just like when fate guides some people together and causes others to part.

After a period of indecisive skimming through the bookshelf, you picked out a thick, hardcover book.

You'd consider yourself quite picky regarding books - just a flashy cover and a taunting description wouldn't do it for you. A beautiful, elegant maiden and a handsome, charming prince were just one-dimensional props in the story, and you found all of those "new " and "wonderful " fantasy worlds described and mapped out on the front page generic and bland. You always seeked out something new, something that would leave you thirsting and longing for each damned word pressed onto the yellowing paper, make your fingers trail over dozens of pages in mere minutes. Yet, considering your little town in the south was limited to just one small, dusty library, finding such books would be considered an extreme sport.

So for now, you had to be satisfied with the usual, popular literature that the townsfolk read.

But today was special - you weren't in the mood for something new, or something outstanding, in fact you'd even say you wanted to read something normal. Something you could nonchalantly mention to your friends during afternoon coffee, with a plot so malleable and simple it would be woven around your conversation like it was nothing. The misadventures of a rookie knight, or the sorrows of a young, noble lady, all interpreted differently and abstractly and able to be swiftly analyzed and twisted over a cup of overly sweet coffee. Although the pile of smooth, newly released paperbacks at the entrance intrigued you, a minute later you found yourself squished between two dusty, polished wooden shelves, inspecting the book you just picked out.

Well, you didn't know you'd stoop that low, but what caught your eye right now was a book of fairy tales and fables. It was an old release, presumably donated to the library considering the oil stains on the brown paper that wrapped itself around the thick leather cover. Although worn out by time and basically crumbling from the outside, on the inside the lettering was flawless and written in an old, thick cursive, and simply bringing your face closer to the text would bless you with the scent of old, yet well kept books - the fresh smell of walnuts and baldachin beds and white cotton dresses, and even lilac bushes in the spring. Although all of these associations were of a life unknown to you, for some reason they made you feel at home.

There was another reason for you picking out this particular book - a reason you'd rather carry with you to your grave out of pride, unable to bend your head down and admit it. When life got unbearable and overbearing and the only way you felt safe and well was under heavy linen bedsheets or in the shade of the old pear tree, you'd curl up and indulge in the exact same books you usually despise. A humbling experience, indeed, but at times where safety and love were most neccessary fantasies were the quickest, most low-key way of getting what you needed the most at the moment. Projecting your being onto the flat sheet of a protagonist, you'd visualise yourself instead of them, you being the one kissing the hero's fading scars or having your hair braided by the thin, nimble fingers of the king's son. The amount of scenarios was neverending, and, well, if you couldn't get your fix with all these readily available options, you felt like you're doomed.

The book was now set inside your trusty linen bag while you were walking home. Oddly, the usually loud and populated city market was silent and not a soul could be seen out on the street, not even a head popping out of the window or a hand reaching for the hanged clothes that hung on the ropes high above the rocky path. While you were crossing the town bridge, you decided to stop to take a deep breath and enjoy for a bit, now that you weren't being pushed onward by the citizens and the merchants that usually piled behind you.

It does take a while to learn savor things, doesn't it? It takes until adolescence until the dark chocolate on your tongue unveils its rich, deep and bitter flavor, until you learn how special that first sip of morning coffee is and how good of a feeling it is to simply have another hand wrapped around yours. Same goes for nature, you thought to yourself as you looked over the bridge, watching the river speed under the arch and the plants inside of it wave around like silk scarfs. Without the noise pollution, you were finally able to hear the satisfying noises of the water sloshing over the rocks, droplets hitting each other every second. Without a second thought, you laid beside the edge of the bridge, your bag lazily hanging off of your wrist, and let yourself get lulled to sleep by the melody of the current.

That is, until the straps of the bag slipped off of your wrist.

Fuck.

You immediately jumped to your feet in panic, looking around for your bag. Yet, it was too late. It was nowhere to be found - it was probably already driven away by the river, taken to god-knows-where.

Well, it's not like you weren't aware of the risk. But your heart still ached - that was not your book, after all. And what a beautiful, old edition it was as well! There was no way you'd be able to properly apologize to the librarian, unless....

"Oye, muñeca, ta libre."

You jumped at the sudden voice whispering at your ear. You were sure no one was around here except you... or maybe..?

Slowly turning around, your face was met with another, yet wider, lathered with paint and shaded by the hat above's enormous brim. As the face moved away from yours and the person straightened their back, you found yourself gazing up and down at - what seemed to be, at least - a tall, youngish man, couldn't be above 28. Dressed in gaudy purple, green and black, adorned with flowers and gilded accessories, he looked like a living puppet, his chest and shoulders wide and his waist slim, proportions of a wooden harlequin they sold during the holiday season in the toy shop. Hanging off of his wrist was your beloved linen bag, the forsaken book inside still in tact, not a single droplet of water blemishing the paper.

"Who...? How did you...?" You muttered nonsense, as your arms needily reached for the bag that he gently waved around. Props to the visuals, but you had your priorities.

"It's all reflexes, sugar. Was taking a nap underneath the bridge, you know, all that wandering around numbs out your legs, and your little sack here just happened to fall close enough to my hand for me to grab it in time. Be a little more careful next time, will you, doll?" The man-puppet replied nonchalantly as he tossed the bag into your arms.

"Thank you, I- wait, what?" You quickly snapped out of your daze. "Napping? Under the bridge? "

"Don't judge it before you try it", he whistled, crossing his arms behind his head, "The cobblestone ain't the comfiest, but it does wonders for your back."

You sneered at his carefree expression, as if lying under a bridge was the most normal thing to do. Who exactly was this fellow, and who did he think he was?

"And you expect to believe me all that?"

"Hm?" He jolted a bit, not expecting a question, maybe a compliment, but definetly not a skeptical remark.

"Napping under a bridge? Seriously? You catching my bag is impressive, yes, but there's no way it was that much of a skillful feat. You probably dozed by the river's shore and suddenly found a bag by your side like any other guy at this hour. Who are you even, some wannabe-show-off-superhero?"

To your suprise, he just smirked back at you, lowering his torso until his face was just inches away from yours. So close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks, and his raspy voice rumbled inside your ears.

"How about you take a wild guess."

Stumped by his question, you took a few steps back. Your eyes now digesting his form in his entirety, you rubbed your chin as you gazed up and down at the man, posing, obviously very into the careful stare you were dissecting him with.

"Enjoying the view, hm, azúcar? "

"Give me a break! I'm trying to focus." You mumbled, panicking a bit, sensing that your cheeks started to flame up. To be honest - even under all that fabric and thick paint, he was quite a looker. The black paint defined his jawline in all the right places, and man, that silly outfit of his was tailored pretty damn well, gripping his legs and his biceps enough to define them nicely.

Although visually he was as fancy as a rich man's birthday cake, nothing seemed to pop out from his outfit, as if every embroidered piece of textile and every golden stud was carefully planned out. However, upon better inspection, one of them seemed to take the cake - it was the small shiny skull on top of his hat, shaped like a squished pear, a few nails stabbed into it like birthday candles. The cherry on top of it all - metaphorically and literally.

"The skull on your hat... looks like a well-made prop to me. You're some kind of entertainer, huh?"

A playful smile appeared on the lad's lips, yet it wasn't a confirming one. "You're getting closer, but no, not exactly."

"Street musician?"

"I can be one if you desire, but it's not exactly my main job."

"Actor?"

"Only behind the scenes, dear. But I can see by the look in your eye that you're going to head in the right direction." This little guessing game seemed to amuse him to no end.

"With all that flashy wear, it seems fair to assume you might even be some kind of high-end magician, performing for nobles or aristocrats. Or some wannabe wizard."

He bit his lip, the smile widening with each guess. He seemed more excited about this than you were.

A flower painted around his left eye. A belt fastened around his waist, with a big golden buckle. Sheer black gloves covering his hands in their entirety, bones painted in gold on his knuckles and fingers.

A glowing ring - no, a disk - hanging from the side of his belt, rocking with the movement of his hips.

Wait. It couldn't be. The disk looked too...

"Hold on a second. You couldn't be..."

"Sí, muñeca? "

"Are you..."

Before you could even finish your sentence he grinned from ear to ear and inched even closer to you, his nose now touching yours, as if he just managed to read your mind.

"Bingo."

The legend of the Soul Catcher was told times and times again, twisted and folded like fresh taffy to suit every possible scenario in one's life. To children, it was told to scare them into going to bed in time. To teenagers, it was told to ward them off from the forest at the edge of the town. To young adults, it was told to motivate them into becoming independent and to work hard. To newlyweds, it became a prayer, to protect the newly formed family and to bring safety to their home. He was not the Reaper, but if a soul was left astray, detached from the body it resided in, everyone knew well that once the Soul Catcher gets his hands on it, that it won't be back ever again. He was both a devil and a saint, a villain and a vigilante - but one thing was sure, he was well respected. No one knew if it was out of fear or out of genuine admiration. And what was even weirder - not a single person was sure if he ever actually existed.

Not a single adult, at least.

The legend was not a new one, in fact, it has been told for a little less than a century. If you were to have a little extra patience and attention, you could hear the town's elders occassionally mumble about seeing him as a child in the forest, or him visiting them in a dream. But their interpretations varied from tale to tale - he went from a spirit, to a ghoul, to simply an omen, either good or bad. Since the townspeople couldn't agree on a single, concrete definition, the Soul Catcher remained a concept, embodied by what seemed to be multiple entities.

However, if you were to ask a child about the Soul Catcher, you'd get a much more vivid and universal description than anything an adult could tell you. All of them were along the lines of "magical jester", and what was weirder, almost all of the children confessed that the Soul Catcher played with them. And no, it wasn't just a single sighting, he played with multiple kids at once, even going as far to balancing three of them on his shoulders and telling them stories. During the hot, damp afternoon hours of the summer, huge groups of children snuck out of their homes just to play with him. When their mothers soaked their cramped hands and their fathers took their first break after the morning shift, their beloved kids were out on the dusty streets, carefully following every word seeping off of the Soul Catcher's silver tongue.

The only thing that bound the varying opinions and theories of both the young and the old was the trusty disk that always hung by his hip, rumored to be the tool he used to attract and harvest souls. And this same legendary disk was now hanging off of the belt of the man in front of you, green and purple mist enveloping it.

The myth himself, in the flesh, in front of you.

"You were quicker than I thought you'd be. Bravo, dollface." He smiled and patted your head. "If we ignore your initial hostility, you seem quite confident in the fact that i'm the real deal. Mind telling me why?"

"Well, you don't see someone parading around with THE exact disk that the Soul Catcher uses. Everyone agrees on the main description of its appearance, but to be completely fair, no one around here is skilled enough to make a replica that's convincing enough."

"I see. It's nice to see somebody with both the wits and the pretty face." He chuckled. Who would have known that he's such a flirt? Nontheless, to your shame your face lit up at his silly compliment. There was just something about him that made you weak in the knees.

"Alright. I believe I should prove you I'm the real thing now." He unhooked the disk from his belt, spun it around in his hand, and hopped a few steps away from you. He pointed the disk at your chest, positioning himself as if he's getting ready to react to a suprise attack. You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you felt as if you shouldn't make a sound or even object to it.

A tension-filled silence wrapped around you two for 20 seconds. After 10 more which seemed more like 10 minutes, you felt your body move. Move, although your legs were planted at the same spot they were before. Your head ached and pulsed, you felt dizzy as if your intestines were tying themselves into knots. To be sick without actual pain, to move without any movement, what was he doing to you? If this keeps up, you might just end up vomiting out your stomach along with its contents. It was like being carsick, except the sickness rumbled not only through your abdomen, but through each one of your limbs as well.

"Here, I stopped. It's all over. Sorry for this."

The headache seemed to halt, and your body was back to normal, yet your hands and legs still felt a bit sore. He was now above you, his hand stretched out to your sides in case you lost your balance.

"...What did you just do to me?" You yawned, trying to stand up straight again.

"What you just experienced was your soul being harvested from your, already inhabited, body. I usually refrain from doing this, but I felt like I should let anyone that witnesses me up close go through this. Y'know, I want to be honest with people. That although they've seen me in the flesh and talked to me, they're fully aware of what I can do so they can prevent themselves from getting harmed."

"Does this imply you sucked someone's soul out from their living body?"

"Maybe", he shamefully turned his head away, "but it was never on purpose. Usually it was them reaching for the disk, or trying to see it up close. It pains me, since in most cases it's nearly impossible to return the original soul to its old body."

An awkward silence ensued.

"Sorry for ruining the mood, I felt like I needed to warn you first."

"Oh no, seriously, it's alri-"

"May I walk you to your house, jewel?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me the first time." He extended his hand, waiting for your next move.

What a peculiar man, indeed. First he tries to suck out the life out of you to give you a heads-up, and then he offers to walk you home like a gentleman.

And you'd be lying if that offer didn't sound thrilling. So now, your hand was intertwined with his, you trying to slow down as much as possible to make the moment last.

"I realized I had forgot to ask for your name. My apologies. Not very gentlemanly of me, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't mind it. It's ____."

"___..." He looked up at the sky, rubbing his chin, as if he was trying to remember something, your name echoing on his lips multiple times.

"Pretty name, but it doesn't ring a bell. You're not among the horde of youth that I visit, are you?"

"Nope. I'd say i'm more of a loner most of the time. I like socializing and all, but nothing's like a good book that you can read in one sitting."

"I figured. No way in hell I'd forget such a cute face like yours, even if I saw it for a split second." He smiled and pinched your nose. If his plan was to drive you insane, he was incredibly effective.

"How come people have such different reports about you? Can you shapeshift?" Trying to lead a conversation with him felt like navigating through a mine field - there were no known limits, no known good or bad questions, or any shared topics you two could talk about. But you'd lie if you said it didn't excite you - waiting for his response, never being able to predict the next word that will come out of his mouth.

He sighed. "If you wore the same pair of pants every day, wouldn't you get tired of it?"

"I suppose..?"

"Well, yeah. It's that. Mix it with hallucinations the brain dials up once it's met with something outside the world it knows, and here's your answer. I'm no sprite or shapeshifter, just a regular guy who made a regrettable deal years ago. I might have the powers of the dead on my side, but at what cost?"

You shrugged. As much as you wanted to quiz him and get him to talk about himself, right now biting your tongue and playing it cool seemed like the best idea. Getting deeply invested in his life might not lead to good places.

"So... you're one of those so-called bookworms, hm? You've been carrying a book inside that bag of yours the entire time, too." You could feel his hand slip from yours, trailing across your arm to your shoulder, then to the other, gripping it softly. His touch felt warm on your skin, very human and real despite what he did for a living.

"...Yeah. In fact, I was just on my way from the library back at the bridge where I met you. I just borrowed it." You smiled shyly, holding the bag tightly in your arms. Knowing his curiosity and boldness, a feeling of panic unfolded in your chest, dreading what he might say next.

"Mind me taking a peek at what you're reading?"

Aaand this was it. The moment you prayed will not happen, but his chin was already resting on your shoulder, trying to get a peek at the contents of the bag.

"H-hey, hey! Back off! That book's my business, after all!" You giggled, holding it tighter and tighter, trying to laugh off your growing anxiety. If there's one person that you wouldn't like knowing about your little self-indulgent hobby, then it was Soul Catcher. But your tightest grip was easily undone by his loosest, and now your book was in his left hand, clumsily open, and the digits of his right were buried in the strands of your hair, holding your head away with careful but great strength. Even with your annoyed and panicked groans and your hands clawing at him, he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to steal a look at a few titles.

"Calm down there, you're acting as if it was a pipe bomb that you were carrying!" He chuckled, trying to stay composed as his body lost balance under your pushes and pulls. Yet your delight was short-lived, as only a second was needed for him to spread the pages open with his thumb and smugly read some of the titles out loud.

"Cinderella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty... seems like someone's a sucker for Prince Charming, hm?" He snickered, but gave in to your pleas and dropped the book right into your sack.

"Would it hurt your pride to not dig through others' stuff?" You hissed, patting the bag in relief. "A-and is there something so wrong with indulging in childhood comfort anyway?"

"Oh, not only would it hurt it, it would kill it. Besides, something tells me that this little guilty pleasure of yours goes beyond just childhood comfort", he whistled in his usual self-satisfied tone, yanking at his suspenders, "But hey, who am I to say?"

"Oh, does it?" You gave him a taste of his own medicine, grimacing right at his face, making sure each word rumbled through his skull. "Well, what if I told you that such absurd assumptions are indeed incredibly untasteful, especially when left unelaborated? Just imagine how much of a hit that could be to your fragile ego..."

"¡Dios mío! You couldn't possibly...!" He dramatically threw his head back. At least something was true - he really was an actor behind the scenes. "Oh lord, it truly seems like the only way to make it up for you, your majesty, is to explain myself beneath your ice-cold gaze, like an accused pauper chained and laid before the king!"

Both of you laughed away at your ridiculous actions.

He cleared his throat, after a good minute of dying from laughter. "O-okay, where were we? Ah, yes, your dirty little secret." With his hands crossed behind his back and his gaze innocently directed at the sky, it seemed like this was a touchy subject for him, too. "Well, from all my previous experiences with people, I noticed that a lot of them like to fantasize about, well, a world where everything is just better - usually some kind of unrealistic fairytale utopia. It helps them feel better about their problems, especially during adolescence." His eyes briefly shifted to yours, watching them as if he's waiting for you to point out a fuck-up nested in his wording.

"Alright, continue...?"

"And, uhm, although fairy tales are meant for kids and all and are read by them, these same adolescents use them as a vessel for said utopias, or simply, a medium."

His lips were pressed into a firm line, waiting for your feedback.

"Bravo, jester", you treated him with a teasing smile, ruffling the stray locks of hair peeking out from his hat, "You got yourself out this time."

"Well then, call me Houdini." He smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. "Jeez, even though that fantasy thing should have gotten into my skull for the most part, I still can't fathom what's so special about the Prince Charming trope.. It's so annoying! Are y'all really drooling over the same guy in different fonts?"

"To be fair, it leaves a lot to the imagination. You can interpret him however you like, twist his personality to your liking."

"But that's exactly why it's horribly overused! Dressing every fictional man in a suit of already desired personalities is... boring! No variety, no depth - nothing! Do they really not find real people with actual lives, emotions, thoughts and opinions more appealing?"

It was a bit funny, him getting worked up over this, as if he was deeply insecure about it. You decided to fuel the fire a bit.

"Well, what does your average Prince Charming have that, let's say, I lack?"

"A great personality?"

"Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." He sighed, traces of laughter in his sigh. "Damn you, muñeca." You chuckled.

"Big muscles?"

"These babies don't look defined to you?" He pouted jokingly, flexing his arm. Shit. Your face warmed up for a bit. For a second, a satisfied grin appeared on his face, liking the reaction he coaxed out of you through your composed armour.

"Strength and brave- AH!" You didn't even get to finish your sentence, and a moment barely passed, but his left arm was already wrapped around your calves, his right under your arm and around your back, his body leaned into yours and suddenly - you were hanging off his shoulder stomach-down, like a potato sack. "Oh my god yo- put me down!"

He whistled, holding you down to supress your squirming. "Strong enough for you, doll?"

"Not fair..." You groaned, lifelessly plopping onto him.

"You didn't answer my question~"

"Yes. Strong enough." It was quite enjoyable up on his shoulder, actually. After the initial panic passed it became nice, the rhythmic bouncing of his walk lulling you to sleep. You could get used to this.

"Now that's music to my ears." He showed no sign of letting go any time soon, perhaps he liked the smell of your perfume on your neck, and your weight resting on top of him, like a thick winter blanket.

"Since you've already decided to pick me up, would you be kind enough to carry me to my house?" You mumbled, your eyelids already feeling heavy. "That house, over there." Pointing at the tall, cobblestone house, you yawned.

"Entiendo, sirenita."

"How did you- actually, you know what? Nothing can suprise me anymore. You climbed up my balcony, didn't you?"

The sun was setting, and Soul Catcher was leaning against the railing of your balcony, your bag thrown around his frame.

"Actually I slid off the roof, but you're not that far off, beautiful." Every time your name was replaced - or you were simply called by - a soft pet name coming from his mouth, you felt as if your stomach would explode. Something about the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, whispering endearments to you like you're the only person remaining in the world along with him. And whenever he read and peered through your façade as your face turned red and your breathing got deeper, he took a step further, engaging in the sensual, mental tango forming around you two. "I forgot to return your bag. Sorry."

"It's alright. I appreciate that you went out of your way for me." Gosh, the way you tortured him! Whenever he was smooth and flirtly and you punched him in the face with your kind, unfiltered smile instead of flirting back, it was like his heart was momentarily shattered into pieces and then bound again. The irresistable two-step of games and suave words was driving him insane and momentarily, in his mind it was your face, and your body, and your voice that called for him and your coldness clashing with his warmth, and it was making him dizzy. Behind his eyes, his brain was melting, and his heart was no different. To fall so quickly for a stranger - well, it's no secret that he's been depraved of actual love and affection beyond one night stands and empty promises to dozens of lovers from different times - was nothing new to him, but this attachment was not the same, it was permanent, stable, and wasn't going away any time soon.

"So, ___..." You turned quickly. When it was just your name and not something snarky on his lips, it seemed more important. "...You got any plans for the evening?"

"Oh- not really. Do you, though?"

"Not a plan, but rather an idea, a proposition, even." His voice was breathier as if he was nervous, coughing up the words from his chest. "If you want to, we could, y'know, watch the sunset together. I'm quite fond of sunsets myself, so I was wondering..."

"So you're proposing a date?" A date. As if he flinched when he heard the word.

"Well, yeah, a date, if you want to call it that." He said as he bit his lip. "Are you up?"

"Why not?" You whispered, creeping slowly towards him. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening."

"I'm glad." he smiled. In that little moment all of his confidence returned, and now his voice was clear again and he was back on his feet, jumping on top of the railing like the most skilled of acrobats and making his way to the roof. "You're coming, no?"

"And how exactly do you want me to come?"

"Grab my hand. Come on." His hand hanged from above, pushed as far as possible to reach you. "I'll pull you up."

You gulped. Heights remained a minor fear of yours ever since childhood, and having to face said fear head-first out of nowhere wasn't very appealing. "But what if I fall?"

"Believe me, muñeca, you won't."

"How can you be so sure!?"

He took a deep breath, trying to speak as gently as possible to calm you down.

"Trust me, ___. It's my hand around yours, no one elses, and my strength that's going to pull you up. I'm here for you. Please."

You didn't know when, you didn't know how, but the height suddenly stopped being a problem and, in a flashing moment, you were in his arms, being pulled to the middle of the roof.

"The clouds are such a beautiful color today. Light pink, as if they're crowning the sun before the moon rises."

Your back facing him, his chin on your shoulder, his breath on the nape of your neck.

"It's even more beautiful right before it goes down. They turn blood red, melting with the sky."

His arms wrapped around you, your hand around his wrist, your legs thrown over his.

"Do you have to go soon?" You whispered with a heavy heart.

"I should go." He suddenly stopped. "But I don't want to."

"Please. Stay for another moment."

He pulled you closer and closer to him, now his mouth right by your ear.

"Of course. A moment."

And it was more than a moment.

And more than an hour.

And only the crescent moon was the witness, and what it saw was sealed for eternity once the sun rose on the horizon again.

217 notes · View notes

ohheythisisagoodname · 2 months

Text

write your name with hearts

featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, tamaki amajiki, shinso hitoshi note: so sorry their all kinda short so i could fit them all without doing a second part

izuku (i can't tell if this is a person of broccoli....)

~ he was taking notes on you and your quirk one day

~ poor baby didn't even notice it because he was going on and on about your quirk until uraraka pointed it out in curiosity

~ his face lit up like a tomato

~ he tried to explain somehow but failed... horribly...

~ he actually ended up doing it a few more times

~ you caught him doing it once and he closed (slammed) his book faster than the speed on light. At least he didn't say he didn't do it.

~ after that you would always look over his paper sometimes to try and catch him in the act but after that he's never been caught again, doesn't mean he doesn't do it though.

~ it's just something he can't get over now

bakugo (the angry pomeranian. best friends a simp so might be a little bit oc-ish)

~ even he doesn't know what happened but one second his writing with his head in his hands and the next he's a blushing mess.

~ you had walked past his desk and when you saw it you pointed it out.

~ bakugo would extremely blush, but then he would try to hide it and start yelling at you telling you to mind your own business and start saying your delusional.

~ afterward after class he would go straight to his dorm a blushing mess.

~ like deku you would never find him doing it again.

~ for weeks after that you would be on his mind, he would think about that god awful moment.

~ he tried to play off the thoughts running in his head about your pretty little face as you had asked about it.

~ god he loved that curious glint in your eyes, but he'll NEVER say so.

shoto (it's icy thought on thursdays)

(help i have no idea how he would act, soo soo soo sorry this is gonna be so ooc, but all of them are soo...)

~ deku finds him doing it and asks him about it quietly so you couldn't hear shoto was writing your name with hearts.

~ he automatically erases it and stares at deku with a poker face "who's y/n?"

~ deku would automatically fall silent. "eh... um... nevermind." deku would say ending that awkward conversation.

~ of course somehow word about it would get to you, how? no idea. don't ask me.

~ you could ask shoto about it but he would just ghost the question.

~ like bakugo he would never be seen doing it again but his feelings for you would escalate from that day.

denki (my cute little sparky boy who lit a spark in my heart)

~ kiri found out about denki tending to write your name (yes in yellow hearts. get it? haha, i'm so funny... ha... ha... i'm delusional and a idiot...)

~ denki openly admitted it with an energetic smile

~ after going on and on about for a full hour with bakugo and kiri just staring at him like he's a simp (but i'm a bigger simp)

~ after that he just sat back down laughing awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.

~ if you had asked him about it though his brain would fry like when he uses his quirk and he would become a blushing mess

~ if you didn't though he would just stay cocky about it thinking that if you ever found out he'd just have a chance to ask you out but as you can see... it failed... horribly...

~ he would still ask you out though... in this brain... his fried brain...

~ but all that you would get was a blushing mess and incomprehensible babbles.

~ he would try again once he's brain wasn't on the fritz but his brain fried again thinking about it... holly ratatouille he's cute

tamaki (no.1 shy boi of my heart, ligt changing songs just for him, now playing "i can't handle change" by roar,)

~ you thought the others were nervous? oh boy... ignore getting your brain fried, ignore turning into a tomato, ignore whatever shoto and bakugo were. this shy boy right here is the real deal.

~ mario *ahem* i mean mirio caught tamaki in the act and asked about it.

~ of course tamaki blushed, with that quivering smile appearing on his lips.

~ tamaki being mirio's best friend told him about his feelings for you and mirio being mirio promised not to tell a soul

~ but once nejire told mirio about your little crush on tamaki mirio told nejire about tamaki's little crush on you. and then the word spread like wildfire

~ once tamaki had figured it out he was in a full blown panic attack

~ poor baby didn't even consider you liked him back and thought it was all a prank on him for liking

~ it took a lot of convincing for him to finally understand you liked him back

shinso (my beautiful insomniac who would keep me company through those bad nights)

~ umm... so who's the worst person to find you writing your crush's name with hearts? stop thinking its aizawa.

~ as soon as he catches shinso writing your name with hearts next to it.... damn... his own Protégé having a crush on his own student...

~ aizawa doesn't exactly hate the idea of shinso getting a girl/boyfriend but at the same time they could get in the way of hero work.

~ aizawa keeps it to himself that he knows shinso's crush but shinso had noticed something was off about the way mr.aizawa would act when he and you were together

~ once shinso had asked about it and aizawa explained shinso had birds over his head

~ after that he makes a deal with aizawa, he works as hard as he can and aizawa will help shinso get to go one a date with her and boy shinso kept his word

bye bye

none of it is my art

#my hero acedamia headcanons #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #shoto todoroki #denki kaminari #tamaki amajiki #shinsou hitoshi #izuku x reader #bakugou x reader #shoto x reader #denki x reader #tamaki x reader #shinsou x reader #horrible jokes

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luxthestrange · 1 year

Text

Incorrect quotes#777 Weddin' crashin'

When You Found out...Some Witches Kidnapped Mammon to Force Him to Marry the Elder Witch in the human world...so you and Solomon went out to find the wedding location..

Mc*Looks at all doors and windows are reinforced and looks at Solomon*Everything is locked down! How are we gonna get in?

Solo*Looking around and patting his pants when he pulled out a key with a keychain Chibi Mc Sheep ...It was the key to mammon's car*

-As the two got into the driveway to search for mammon car, Solomon puts the keys on and turns them on...but goes thru the radio to pick the perfect song going with "F*ck you up! Hits"-

Solo*Has hands on the wheel*Buckle up my love~WE'RE DOING A SHREK!~

-At the wedding-

Mam*Was putting on a wedding dress and being held to be in place along with Witch, mouth covered with tape*

CRAAAAAAASH

Solo*Opening the door of the vehicle abit dizzy*I OBJEEECT!?*falls into the rubble*

Mc*Getting out of the vehicle and jumping on the hood towards the to look at the Witches with glaring glowing eyes green and yellow... your pact mark with Mammon & Satan glowing *YOU WANT MY MAMMON...YOUR GONNA HAVE TO KILL ME!?!

CovenHead*Rolls eyes and snaps her fingers and points to you signalling her coven to kill you*

You soon enough launch yourself toward one the biggest witch and...MASSACRETING THEM IN YOUR PATH OF WRATH...

CovenHead*Frowning*WHAT THE FUCK-THEY'RE JUST A HUMAN!*Moves out of the way from a witch that falls near her now being choked by viscera, grabs her, and pushes her towards the angry human*THEY'RE JUST ONE HUMAN!KILL THEM-*Stops talking when the one witch was killed in an instant she pushed her their way*

Mam*Taken aback by You easily making your way thru One the Strongest Witches*...

Solo*Backs you up but is soon grabbed by you and is used like a bat to hit another witch*

Mc*As you drive around the vehicle destroying the cake, tables, and seats on your path you speed up to the altar with an enraged glare at Coven Head but stop at the last min, get off punch the last witch standing on your path, Glaring up at the leader*...

CovenHead*Looks down at you as you grab Mammon and throw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and rolls his eyes and huffs*...

Mc*Looking at her, pointing at Mammon's ass and then at self*THIS ASS IS MINE!?!*Slaps Mammon's ass to emphasize that*

Mam*Eyes widen and blushes as he looks extremely happy thru his eyes*!?!?

Solo: HAHA!~*Laughs at them, He too is now carried like Mammon by you*

youtube

Solomon is your ride or die...humans scaring the crap out of everyone!

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cannedapricot · 1 year

Text

the bouquet. || njm

in which you love watching your coffee shop regulars and irregulars go about their day. you loved hearing stories about their lives and their loved ones. yet, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel lonely. alternatively, you were in love with the concept of love, na jaemin was in love with you.

word count: 2.8k

genre, warnings: fluff, angst near the end, comfort i think, slice of life, coffee shop!au, flower shop!au, pining, worries about never being able to experience romance covered up with bright smiles and warm coffee, profanities

bgm: people watching by conan gray, cloud 9 by beach bunny, perfect day by mao buyi, sweet dream by nct u

a/n: this only happened because i wanted to write fluff HAHA so by default it isn't proof read also i am not a florist so idk if these flowers look good in a bouquet LMAO

PHILIA (n) - affectionate love - yellow chrysanthemums

A warm beam of sunlight streams in through the glass window, toasting the wooden the tables and chairs in its wake. You stretch behind the counter - warm sunny afternoons always gave you the urge to nap.

Opposite you, on the other side of the store, stood your coworker amongst the displays of flowers. Na Jaemin was attractive, and more often than not, you'd hear people compare him to the flowers he worked with in attempt to woo him. They never worked though, Jaemin would always respond with a polite smile and a "thank you". You'd try your best to hold in your giggle as they leave the store with a sour expression. But then you'd meet eyes with Jaemin, he'd mouth a playful "oops", and you'd have to duck down to hide your laugh behind the counter.

It was a slow day. You barely had anyone to serve so you spent your time arranging and rearranging shelves in the back, cleaning equipment, and munching on the seasonal lavender flavored cake your store offered. Jaemin, on the other hand, seemed to be catching up on bouquet orders. Each bouquet was prepared with the same amount of care and focus as the next. Each flower was chosen with a purpose to serve. Jaemin wasn't only known as a pretty face. He was also known for his beautiful bouquets.

Seemingly haven to caught you staring, without looking up from his work, your coworker jokingly says,

"Go back to work."

"But there is no work. No one wants a coffee from me."

"I do. See, you have work."

You turn around to start his coffee - iced americano, three shots of espresso. He usually whines for more espresso but in attempt to keep his body functioning, you only allow a maximum of three shots.

The overhead bell tinkles and a woman walks in. You give them a smile over your shoulder to welcome them in. She returns the smile, but walks up to Jaemin's counter instead.

"Hi! I had an order for pick up today?"

"Oh yes, chrysanthemums right?"

The woman nods as Jaemin goes to fetch her prepared bouquet. You finish the coffee and bring it over to your coworker's counter, making conversation with the customer as you do so.

"Are the flowers for anyone?"

"They are! One of my friends is graduating today and I wanted to congratulate her as well as thank her for being such a lovely friend."

You can't help but grin at the story. The way the woman brightened up mentioning her friend. The way she spoke so highly of them. They must be someone extremely precious to her.

"A great choice of flowers." Jaemin comments, returning with a bright yellow bouquet.

"Thank you. I spent hours looking up the meanings of flowers. My friend's really into the language of flowers."

The both of you thank her for her patronage and watch as she heads off, the brightly colored flowers tucked safely in her arms.

"Happiness, joy, celebration."

"Hm?"

Jaemin takes a sip of his coffee before answering.

"You wanted to know the meaning right? I could tell."

Sometimes Jaemin's ability to read your mind scares you. How does he just know?

"Also, this coffee doesn't have the amount of espresso I requested."

"I'm saving your life." You retort, heading back to your post.

You spare a glance at the door the woman walked out of. How special it must be to have someone care for you that much. A friend who would scour the internet for the perfect flower for you. A friend who had the most precious expression talking about you.

You loved knowing the stories behind your customers. Yet, for some reason, they always made you feel more alone.

PRAGMA (n) - enduring love - baby's breath

Entering the shop today, you were greeted with the sight of Jaemin surrounded by a copious amount of baby's breath flowers. It was certainly a sight to behold.

"A regular of ours is getting married soon - they've asked me to prepare the flowers for their wedding." He had said, bunching the small flowers together with a white ribbon. You hum, leaning on his counter as he continued to work. Jaemin's breath hitches at the proximity between the two of you - yet it goes unnoticed as you rack your brain to remember the regular.

"I remember! Is it the tall man who always shows up in a suit?"

"The one that always manages to squeeze his partner in every sentence? Yeah."

Jaemin's gaze falls upon you as you rest your head on your palms, a huge smile adorning your face.

"Adorable."

"The couple? Yeah. I can't believe they're getting married!"

His comment wasn't about the couple.

Jaemin returns his focus back on the flowers, aiming for the bunches to be as consistent as possible.

"They've been together for quite long, haven't they?" You mention, watching his slim fingers weave the perfect bow around the fragile flowers.

"Mhm, ten years I think. He said they were high school sweethearts."

A yearnful sigh escapes your lips.

"How cute. I wish I had something like that."

Jaemin gently pokes your forehead, a soft smile on his own lips.

"You're idolizing the idea of love again."

"I can't help it! Isn't the idea of falling for one another just so romantic? The butterflies, the flushed faces, the shy touches!" You squeal at the thought. Romance was your favorite genre, even if you've never experienced it personally, it was always a gem to witness.

"Instead of standing there and squealing like a high schooler - you should come around and help me with these flowers."

"But I'm not the florist - you don't see me asking you to make coffee."

"I am terrified that you will start kicking your legs like a high schooler with a crush next alright? And it's not hard, I'll teach you."

So you make your less than graceful jump across the counter, asking Jaemin to catch you (he didn't) and the two of you spent the day side by side bunching up baby's breaths.

"What do baby's breaths mean?"

Jaemin's shoulder meets yours and his fingers brush against your own as he fixes your ribbon. The sun was warm, or was that your skin flushing?

"Everlasting love."

STORGE (n) - familiar love - white lilac

"What do you recommend for my daughter who's just given birth?"

Your ears perk up from the storage room and you immediately drop the bag of coffee beans you were holding to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Congratulations! I'm sure you must be ecstatic!"

"I am! A healthy young granddaughter! I love her already. The entire family is celebrating."

A wave of joy crashes on you. You weren't just a sucker for romantic love, but all types of love. Humans were surrounded by love all the time, consciously or unconsciously, it was always present. And to you, there wasn't anything that made you happier than seeing others feel the joy of loving and being loved.

You sneak a peak out into the open area, just in time to see the lady leave the store, white lilacs in her bag and a skip in her step.

"Eavesdropping is rude you know?"

"Boo, I'm just trying to get in on some good news."

Jaemin laughs as you jokingly pout at him, his structure stands out against the light streaming in from the big windows. You've always thought his smile was dazzling. It really was no mystery as to why he was so popular.

"Hey, could you help with the coffee beans? You've got nothing to do now anyway."

"Ask cutely."

"I'm reporting you to the boss. That has got to be a breach of some HR protocol."

"I'm just joking." The boy says making his way towards you. Unexpectedly, he stops to tuck a small piece of white lilac behind your ear, face only inches away from yours.

"Purity, innocence. I think it suits you."

He then continues his journey to the storage room casually, as if the two of you weren't just a hair's distance away from each other.

"Na Jaemin what the fuck?"

EROS (n) - romantic love - red roses

A knowing glance was shared between you and your coworker as a couple walks in, arms linked with each other.

"I love you honeybunches."

"I love you more sweetie pie."

The couple shares a kiss, the audible smooching loud enough to be echoing through the store. You had to pretend to clear your throat to grab their attention.

"How may I help you two?"

After placing their order, the couple giggles and slinks to a table in the corner. You notice that they sit next to each other instead of opposite.

"Is that the type of love you want?" Jaemin whispers as you froth the milk for a sweet potato latte.

"Oh come on, they're not that bad. I bet they're just in the honeymoon phase is all."

"Mhm, and they're definitely not making out in the corner right now."

With a roll of your eyes, you wipe down the metal wand. Without the noise of the machine, the wet sounds of mouth on mouth action could clearly be heard.

"They're cute!"

"Why? Do you want to make out in public as well? Come here, I can make that happen."

You were sure Jaemin was joking. The tone of his voice told you so. But when you looked into his eyes, they looked hopeful. Perhaps you were deluding yourself. All these thoughts about love were really altering the way you saw things.

"No. Go serve them their coffee."

"What? I thought you never made me do barista things?"

"It's only fair after you got me to do florist things."

Jaemin smiles at the playful quarrel, though you notice there was a hint of disappointment there. Why?

"This cake is new."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's the new red rose cake. The owner said they used rosewater when baking it."

"Passion, desire, romance. No wonder the couple picked it. Wish me luck."

You give your coworker a salute as he heads over with the drinks and dessert before busying yourself with cleaning. You don't notice the couple giving Jaemin advice and support regarding his stupidly obvious crush on you because stupidly, you believed that romantic love would never come to you.

LUDUS (n) - playful love - white roses

It was a cloudless day, the skies were a lovely shade of blue, and the birds were chirping a happy tune. It was the perfect day for a first date. Which is why you found yourself craning your neck to look at the couple sitting outside.

They were evidently on their first date. The nervous fiddling, the shy giggles, the playful laughter. You weren't even part of their date, but just watching them interact made your insides bubble with excitement.

"Jaemin! Jaemin look! They're comparing hand sizes!"

"I know, I can see what you see."

You were pretending to wipe down a table on the other side of the glass, trying your best to seem uninterested in their conversation. But the reality was, you were dying to hear everything they had to say.

The florist, on the other hand, was watering his flowers. Less interested than you were, but was still listening. Most of his attention wasn't on the couple outside, it was on you.

You were fretting over every small detail, eyes wide and sparkling whenever someone made a move. You were clasping you hands together when they exchanged coy looks, excitedly muttering Jaemin's name in order to have him look.

You were in your element, and you were glowing.

When did he fall for you? Jaemin doesn't even know. You were always so into the small details, remembering the tiniest change in people. So adorable when you unknowingly purse your lips when attempting latte art. Perhaps you had him wrapped around your finger since the day you stepped in the store, asking if they were hiring. Or perhaps he fell slowly, day after day of working together and being in your presence.

Jaemin doesn't know when, but he knows that his attempts at flirting had gone unnoticed. But Jaemin doesn't know how to give up. So he's made the decision to keep trying, again and again. He'll keep trying until the day you stop loving the concept of love, and start loving him.

"Here, a white rose each for the two of you - free of charge."

The couple seemed pleased. Your jaw hanging wide open when Jaemin returned.

"Flies are going to get in your mouth."

"Jaemin... That was so smooth. That made their date even more memorable."

He hopes that one day, your rose colored glasses would be directed at him.

PHILAUTIA (n) - self love - narcissus

The clouds were crying today, dying the sky a deep shade of gray. You sigh. It was as if the weather was mirroring your thoughts. You hated it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Jaemin's warm hands gently hold your face, slowly turning you to face him. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes. They were worried, he was worried. You know. You could tell.

"Okay fine. I'll tell you. But no laughing alright?"

He nods.

"Its just... One of my friends got into a relationship and I'm jealous."

Silence.

"Wait, no, not because I was in love with my friend. But because I've never been in a relationship. As in, I want to know how it feels like?"

Jaemin lets out a silent sigh of relief.

"But I feel like I could never be loved like that. I've never had someone look at me as if I was the only person that ever mattered. And as much as I love the idea of that, I don't know if I'm worthy of it the way I am now."

Your voice slowly turns into a whisper, your insecurities escape and spread out in the small store. The atmosphere was heavy, around the same weight as your heart. Tears threatened to escape your eyes, the embarrassment of crying in front of your handsome coworker was the only thing holding them back.

Suddenly, Jaemin's hands, a little rough from tending to flowers, push against your cheeks.

"Y/N. You are worth loving. You are worthy of everything the world has to offer. Fuck, you're worth more than the world has to offer."

"Huh?" Was all you could make out as Jaemin's palms still had a firm grip on your cheeks.

"Listen, you are the brightest person I've ever laid my eyes upon. If you claimed you were the sun, nobody would argue differently. I don't even know how my world was before you. Stop thinking so negatively, alright?"

Ah shit. The tears were free falling now.

"Thank you, Jaemin."

The sun peeked through the clouds. A rainbow formed in the sky. A single daffodil sat in a vase on the windowsill.

AGAPE (n) - selfless love - red carnation

Jaemin stands alone behind his counter, head in his hands. He had basically confessed to you the other day. He basically said you were his sun damn it. But you still hadn't caught on.

It was your day off today. Jaemin received a lovely selfie of you earlier of you and a friend at an amusement park. A telling smile that formed on his face told everyone in the room all they needed to know.

"Just tell her straight up." Taeyong, the owner, suggests. "At this point I don't think they'd understand if you don't."

"I don't want them to be pressured into a relationship if they're not ready or not into me though." Jaemin replies, groaning. "What if we become awkward? I don't want that. Please, anything but that. All I want is for them to realize that I've been nursing a massive crush on them"

"Make them a bouquet," Johnny, one of the cafe's investors, mentions. "You're good at those right?"

"I've tried. But they don't turn out the way I want them to."

"Try harder."

The older men snicker as the younger shoots them a glare. Jaemin lies his head down on the cool surface of the counter, his eyes catch onto the brilliant red carnations blooming on the side.

"Red carnation. "My heart aches for you"."

The next day you clock in, you find red carnations decorating your work station. They were on the espresso machine, sitting on the cookie jar, and even inside mugs.

"Jaemin? What happened while I was gone?"

The boy smiles brightly from his station opposite yours. A view you've gotten used to.

"Welcome back?"

"I was gone for one day."

"Hey, I missed you for a whole day."

A tingle makes its way up your ears. You admit, you've been thinking a lot about Jaemin's words since the day you cried in front of him. How tender and passionate those words were, how they sounded almost like a confession.

A cake box catches your attention. Wrapped in a white ribbon with your name on it.

Undoing the bow and opening the cardboard reveals flowers. Delicately placed and arranged. You carefully look over the flowers. Yellow chrysanthemums, baby's breath, white lilac, red roses, white roses, daffodils, red carnation.

"Jaemin... is this from you?"

He grins.

"You know the meaning right?"

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flickrrposts · 5 months

Text

Black Hat is going to be Hypnotized by Heroes - Theory

Why?: It'd be cool.

Okay, seriously, this could be nothing more than fanfic potential, but in case there's some small chance that I'm right about this, here are a few points on where I'm coming from.

#1 - Tension

This show has reaffirmed time and time again, in the show, comics, livestreams, interviews, that Black Hat is:

A, Powerful,

and B, Terrifying.

I don't think I need to go through evidence of that being the case, if you're familiar with the show at all, you know this.

He's been side-lined throughout the entire show, and it would not only be cathartic to finally have him show off his powers, but it would also make him feel like a real threat in the story if he's positioned against Flug, Dem, and 505.

The tension would be raised to infinity. The show would practically feel like a horror movie because of how near-impossible it would be to defeat him.

#2 - Goldheart's Plan

According to Miss Heed at the end of s1e6, Goldheart wants to "end all villainy."

Black Hat controls all villainy.

P.E.A.C.E. has already caught on to how deep Black Hat's rabbit hole goes, via the agents creating the Podemos Bailar website. (omg, with Magician being one of the agents, then Black Hat's hat is the "rabbit hole", it's like a pun, you get it? You get that-)

Before the third Arenque Noticias video, Melissa Lead states, "If you ask my objective opinion, I'd say a controlled villain is better than a villain set loose."

As observed by @paper-gold-theories, characters with gold accessories tend to be associated with Goldheart or the Golden Rule in some way (Miss Heed, Porccini, the reporter in s1e4).

Melissa wears a golden necklace and ring, so it's very likely that her opinions either align with the Golden Rule, or Goldheart himself.

So if Goldheart's objective is to brainwash all villainy, then who better to target than the man at the top? (the man in the top-hat, haha, I'm on a roll)

#3 - Black Hat's Weaknesses

Alan has hinted that Black Hat is not invincible, and has actually described him as "lazy".

So the concept of Black Hat slipping up is not an impossibility for the show to explore.

#4 - Details

This is getting into TJLC levels of analysis, but I've noticed a couple things that could somehow be foreshadowing this:

In this poster:

Villains have a red outline, and heroes have blue:

(The fact that Flug and 505 have blue is an analysis for a whole other day)

But Black Hat has a gold-ish color on both sides:

This could be a stretch, but,,

In 2021, promo art was released for the show:

And Black Hat's monocle looks suspiciously pink.

Sure this could just be red shading that accidentally looks pink, but it isn't that hard to edit if the colors came out wrong, I did it just now:

The difference is night and day:

I don't think Black Hat has ever been associated with pink before outside of Demencia's fantasies. It would have been easy to choose any other colors too, like green, yellow, orange, or even blue.

The Black Hat being lit with pink for the first time is a coincidence in the very same promo that ALSO includes Miss Heed.

And as is obvious, ALL of the people Heed hypnotizes have glowing-pink eyes:

Even if this isn't foreshadowing to my specific fan-theory, I find a Black Hat - Heed connection extremely suspicious.

It's very well that in this scene, Flug DID perfect Heed's formula.

The heroes have the perfect hypnotizing formula. Or at least they still have some version now.

They have the means.

So TL;DR, Flug perfected Heed's hypnotizing formula, and so P.E.A.C.E./The Golden Rule/Goldheart is going to use it to control Black Hat when his guard's down.

(or somethin like that, idk)

#villainous #villanos #villainous theory #villainous theories #black hat #miss heed #goldheart

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jakeyt · 5 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 2.3 of 2)

PART 2 OF PART 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); angst; unprotected sex (p in v); jealousy; negative self-talk; negative body talk concerning body changes; talks of pregnancy; contemplation of terminating pregnancy; argument (includes: manipulation, misunderstanding, lying); masturbation (f! receiving); anxiety; stress; extreme feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; substance use (alcohol) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 19.9k+

a/n: here it issss…. here’s the big thing: you’re going to be pissed w y/n a time or two & you’re just going to have to remember she’s sooo fucking stubborn. 🫠 (poor Jake) her healing journey starts sooner than you may think, though… 🖤

hopefully after you've read this part, you'll realize why i've included the bolded dates (i think most of you already knew what was coming though... lol). as the author, i believed the big event in this chapter required a timeline for you, as the reader, to keep track of order of events... makes things wrap together in a nice bow haha

@joshym, @alwaysonthemend, + @welightthefire, you three are so special to me and this story flourishes bc of your never ending support as i write. love u so much <3

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

enjoy!

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 27, 2022

The golden morning light was nearly blinding. You shielded your face in the arm of the body beneath you. It was almost too much. . . The warm body underneath you was almost too much.

You remembered having sex with him, talking to him. . . but the details were fuzzy. . . your body felt so relaxed. . . There was so much you couldn’t recollect, but at that moment, it wasn’t a concern. Because Jake was with you and it wouldn’t be this way for much longer. You wanted to relish in this.

Everything that had been swirling in your mind for days was still very real. . . and you knew the list of reasons this was a bad idea were endless. You wished there wasn’t a list of reasons that haunted you– the old and the new. But there was a list and at this point, the reasons were mocking you for being where you were at this moment.

Curled up in Jake, your round ass pushing against his thick cock, already hard. The heat that radiated from him, combined with the feeling of his body pressed against yours, made you sticky with sweat. Your body was on fire. But you didn’t want to leave him. You couldn’t leave him. This feeling, him. . . so safe and cozy.

This was a feeling you wanted to sink into. You blinked a few more times into the open air of your bedroom, seeing the dust particles floating in the rays of yellow sunlight flooding your room.

As much as you didn’t want to leave Jake’s body, you knew you had to start the day at some point. You tried to sit up. But you instantly regretted it. Your head felt fuzzy. Fuck.

Things were foggy as hell. This was always how you reacted to weed. One reason why you rarely smoked it. But you’d needed to last night. Needed that time, feeling free and loose. . . with Jake. Before your time with him came to its inevitable end.

Like it had become your daily routine, you started becoming consumed by several all-encompassing, nagging emotions. You hated how fucking complete you felt in his arms, in bed with him. . . but all it had taken were a few seconds passing before you started feeling the familiar, anxious spinning in your stomach. Turmoil.

Josh’s words from outside your bedroom, bouncing around in your head. The rules that you’d set in place for a reason– to protect you both (though, they hadn’t worked on your end). The image of Maya, so beautiful and attentive . . . Dammit. The way your heart sunk in your chest, the sadness rushing through you, made a mess of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

And you knew that was your body’s way of signaling to you that it was time. Time to end things.

No matter how much your heart lurched at the thought. Your eyes filled with unshed tears, dreading it.

But your body was persistent in communicating to you that it was the right move. To let him go.

You rejected it for just a small moment to turn and give him a kiss on the lips, your bare chest meeting his, which rose and fell underneath you.

Then you remembered–. The guys. In the living room. Shit.

You pulled away to pat his chest, trying to get him to come to. And he did, with one deep breath through his nose, blinking at you with sleepy eyes. He squinted, the sun in his eyes. You loved the way the light turned his eyes to dark honey. . .

Now is not the time, y/n.

As soon as you knew he was awake, you were scrambling out of bed, finding a big t-shirt in your dresser and putting it on. Then you bent over, searching your underwear drawer for a new pair that wasn’t a fucking thong. . . you had too many thongs.

“That ass,” he said, voice gruff and low from sleep. “Damn, baby.”

You instantly felt wetness gather at your folds. Not. Now.

Last night was the last time. And it was going to stay that way.

Underwear, underwear, under– yes!

Finding a pair of black panties, you slipped them on hastily before yanking on a pair of pajama shorts that were laying on the ground. As you wrapped your hair up into a quick ponytail, at your vanity, you made the mistake of looking in the mirror. The bed perfectly placed in the mirror’s path, and a sight from the bed made your breath catch in your throat.

Jake, in your bed, his long hair, still messy from sleep and sex. . . his deeply set, tired eyes. . . tanned skin, the perfect shade of brown after hours spent in the summer sun. The sight reflecting back at you was making your heart race. You caught your breath, taking in a sharp breath. The elbow, holding him up, while the other worked under the sheets. . . his eyes lust-filled and appreciating your exposed thighs. Fuck.

So, abandoning your hair, you decided to not ignore the need that thrummed between your thighs, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. When he was laying there looking like that, you couldn’t refuse. His defined pecs and fit biceps flexed with each pump of his fist. Your building arousal was already ruining your new pair of panties. Best to not dirty another pair, right?

Your legs walked on their own over to the bed while you stripped yourself of the clothes you’d just put on. He sat up, as your eyes surely told him of what you wanted. And in no time, you were on top of him, as he deliciously stretched you, opening you up for him. He held your ass for a moment, aiding you in your movements. His lips found your nipples, hardened and begging for his attention.

As he lifted his hips to start a rhythm inside of you, the pressure was just right, and his tip was massaging you exactly where you needed him. With every hard rock of his hips, you were pushing down against his thrusts. Languid, lazy sounds sighed from your mouth. . . The friction was heavenly. Both of you, relentless with your unsteady tempo of vigorous need– back and forth, back and forth.

He sensed it coming before you did, as you were too distracted by his handsome face. His mouth, opening in the slightest any time your walls clenched around him. Brows dipped in with deep concentration, balancing his view from where your bodies connected, and then back to your eyes. He reached between you, a skilled thumb making tight circles against your sensitive, swollen clit. And, much too soon, you were coming undone, the familiar burn in your belly, your body buzzing and walls fluttering around him at a rapid speed. You threw your head back, riding it out. You never wanted it to end. He felt so fucking good inside of you– filling you all the way up.

With one hand on your breast, and another on your hip, he used that as leverage to pull out of you. And, without thinking much of it, you got on all fours, knees digging into the mattress, wanting to bare your ass to him. You heard him let out a shaky breath, before he was following, raising to his knees. As soon as he was where he needed to be, he released, warm on your back. He gripped your ass with a strong hand, the flesh putty in his hands as you pushed back against him, your ass meeting his thighs.

More, more, more, more, mor–

And, without any stimulation, save for the feeling of him still spilling onto your back and his tight hold on your ass, you were finishing again, your body shaking, pussy clenching around nothing. Your arms almost gave out where they held you up. You tried to keep your whining quiet, remembering why you had been worried about your predicament before.

“Holy fucking shit,” he moaned, his tone throaty. “Did you just–? Again?”

“Y-yeah,” you sighed, feeling completely refreshed, your body still wracking from the effects of your orgasm. And finally, you let your arms give out. But before you could reach the mattress, he was pulling you back to him, sitting you on his lap again as he gave you a full kiss on the mouth, his tongue pushing through your lips.

You reciprocated, tangling your tongue with his, the sound of wet kisses encapsulated your room. The apartment was so quiet–silent, even–save for the sounds of your sighs. The world was nearly drowned out. The only thing that existed was Jake, the taste of his sweet mouth, and the feeling of his lips melding to yours.

But you broke from the escape, the silence of the apartment getting pierced by the telling signs of someone yawning loudly in the living room. You were up without even thinking about it. You hurriedly re-dressed, and before you opened the door, you glanced back at him.

“You were never in here,” you hushed, before shutting the door to go into the living room.

Thankfully, Sammy and Danny were still asleep. But your eyes found Josh, who was rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“What time is it?” He grumbled. And as he closed his eyes with another yawn, you saw movement from the corner of your eye. You peeked from Josh to see Jake, dressed again, silently shutting your door and heading to his own bedroom.

As much as you wanted to go to him, you looked at the glowing green time on the oven. Your eyes bugged at the hour, and you rushed to check your schedule on the fridge.

Shit. While your mind was already tumbling with reasons to call it quits, you just added one more to the list. Until Jake, you’d never been so forgetful of your work schedule. But as of right now, your mind was way too preoccupied with him. You winced at the idea of becoming that forgetful with school. You had to be more responsible.

You had less than thirty minutes before you had to be walking into the Black and Gold.

“Y/n?” Josh called, still slowly coming to.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” you rushed out, practically sprinting to the bathroom, from where you finished your statement. “I’m gonna be late for fucking work.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

You’d been correct– ending up at the B&G ten minutes late. That had never happened before in the history of you working at the shop. It pissed you off to no end that you had let yourself be so irresponsible.

You spent your entire shift thinking of all the things you’d let take precedence in your life above your job and your school. . . In recent days, you’d spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking of Jake to the point of being stressed enough that he’d noticed, told his brother. . . which resulted in a night of getting high to rid yourself of the nerves. You’d let yourself partake in it even when you knew it made you so incredibly fuzzy. On a night where you worked the next day.

Then, there was the sex that had happened last night, this morning. . . making you lose track of time. There was one common denominator. He’d become too important. A distraction. And you feared being the same to him. You’d had your fun and now it was time to give it up.

You fucking hated the idea of having to do it– made tears moisten your eyes. But you would be okay. And Jake would definitely be okay. You weren’t to him what he was to you. (Why that felt wrong to think, you didn’t know. . .) He had a woman to lean back on, if he wanted one. A woman much more fit for him than you could ever be.

And, chances were, he was bound to leave what you had for her eventually, so you felt it best to end things now before he could. It would hurt you less to take the initiative now. You didn’t want to risk the pain that would come with him fully rejecting you for another. The idea of Jake leaving you high and dry like your mother had sounded horrible. And you did not want to experience it.

By the time you were turning off the lights and locking the doors to the store, you’d made up your mind. Tomorrow. You were going to rip the damn bandaid off. There were too many reasons indicating you needed to. Before it was too late.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 28, 2022

He would be home any minute. Your leg was bouncing with pent up nerves that wouldn’t be released until you said what you needed to. Your palms were sweaty, making you need to repeatedly wipe them on the worn denim of your jeans. And anytime you’d wipe them off, you’d grab your phone off the counter, checking it unnecessarily. Because even after you’d wipe them, they’d still shake with nervous jitters, and you needed something to do with them.

The sound of the key unlocking the door made your stomach twist. Suddenly, you were questioning yourself. Questioning what you’d been planning on doing.

I’m not ready. I don’t want to do this. It can wait. It’s not time. I don’t want this.

But it was necessary.

And plenty of those thoughts had become too insistent for you to ignore. Even as you watched him set his guitar and amp down in the living room, through the opening of the kitchen. You were longing to ask him about his day. Or ask him to watch a tv show or movie with you. Tease him and make him follow you to bed. . .

But in spite of all of that, you knew what was right.

Don’t be selfish, y/n. You know what is best for him. For you. For both of you. Don’t you dare chicken out. Continuing this cycle of selfishness will end badly. You know it. Stick to the plan.

So, when he finally walked into the kitchen to cross off his day of work on his fridge calendar, humming what you assumed to be a new song. . .you decided to not waste time. It would hurt less.

Rip the bandaid clean off.

You cleared your throat before speaking, leaning even further into the kitchen counter. You wanted to sink into it. Hide. “Hey.”

He jumped, holding his chest. “You’ve gotta stop scaring me like that,” he laughed, crossing the day off his rehearsal schedule.

Then, when he looked over his shoulder at you, you almost lost your motivation.

Those eyes. . .

But you persisted. For you. For him.

“We need to talk,” you said, the words feeling thick in your throat.

And when he turned to face you fully, his brows were scrunched with confusion and concern.

“You okay?” He inquired. “I wondered why you didn’t talk to me when you got home from work last night. Is something happening at the Black and G–?”

Rip. It. Off.

“We’re done,” you stated. You suddenly felt completely frozen, time beginning to move around you much faster than you could keep up with. The words were trapped in the air with you, hanging there.

He just stared at you, eyes round and questioning. He blinked a couple times, his lips on the verge of a smirk, but ultimately staying in a straight line, as if not sure how to react. “What?”

Keep going.

“We’re done,” you repeated, the words coming out a little easier the second time. “I’m calling it quits. I can’t do this anymore.”

He took a couple steps towards you, then took them back. He turned, looking at the kitchen cabinets as a hand held his chin. He used one finger to scratch at a brow.

Still looking away, he spoke again. “Why?”

You felt the heartache begin again, not wanting to do what you knew you had to. Prior to this, you’d decided anytime you felt the sorrow creep up, you would replace it with anger. Fight the weak emotion with a stronger one. You’d bury the sad, and use anger instead. It would help you and him in the long run. It would.

“I hate when you fucking ask that,” you snapped, your head feeling heavy and the words wrong.

His brown eyes got big, shocked. “Where is this coming from?”

“I told you, Jake,” you said, clearing your throat to eliminate the tears. You want this. “I told you that night at the bowling alley. I said if one of us wanted to end this, the other one has to be okay with it, without any questions asked. That was a rule,” you reiterated, standing firm on the words you’d stupidly spoken in the past. They were your shaky wall of defense in this situation, where you felt defenseless against yourself. “And right now, I don’t want to answer questions. I just want to say it’s over and you be okay with it.”

He scoffed, scratching his cheek before running the hand through his hair. He leaned against the counter closest to him, across the kitchen from you. Come closer. Please.

But he didn’t. He just crossed his arms and pierced you with his dark eyes.

“That’s not how normal people do things, y/n,” he clarified, like he was talking to a child.

You didn’t have to fake anger in response to that. Don’t tell me things like I’m an idiot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You fumed, your coolness fading quickly.

“Goddamn, y/n,” he swallowed hard and looked out the little window above your head, right above the lavender. “Stop acting so fuckin’ obtuse. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked,” you griped sardonically, silently begging him to look at you as your eyes followed him. “Because I speak fucking asshole I knew what you meant by that. You’re right.”

He brought a hand up to his face, covering his eyes before letting it run down to rest at his chin. He was losing his patience. This should be good. Why didn’t it feel that way? This was what you wanted. He let his eyes rest on his feet, refusing to acknowledge your stare.

“I’m still trying to figure out where this is coming from,” he said, reiterating his prior question. “Yesterday morning, everything was normal. We were fine. How were you able to just turn all of that off?”

You were at a loss. How in depth were you supposed to go with him? Should you be honest? Or should you lie? Cover up the truth with blanket statements and lies? You weren’t sure. . .

So you just started talking. And a lie came out first.

“I had a quiz this past Friday and I failed it,” you said, the untrue words feeling dirty coming out of your mouth. Trying to cover up the lie with a truth, you continued. “I keep getting distracted and it’s never been like this for me before. Since my first day of Freshman year at Pratt, I’ve never failed a quiz.” And I still haven’t, you finished silently, guiltily. “I just know that the reason I’m so distracted is because of this,” you motioned between the two of you, even though he was still looking at the ground. “Because of us. It’s not healthy.”

He finally brought his gaze up from the floor, interlocking it with yours. And if you thought the guilt from lying was bad before, it was even worse as you looked into his eyes.

“How is the relationship we have not healthy?” He asked, truly wondering.

Relationship.

You decided to be as honest as possible to keep your guilty conscience at bay.

“For one, it’s distracting me from classes. And two, it’s not a relationship. It’s been a rule since the beginning–the number one rule, actually– and I made it a rule because I knew I couldn’t handle a relationship right now.” All of that was mostly honest. Doing great. “I have other things I need to be focusing on right now. . .dedicating my time to. And from the beginning, this has only been sex,” okay, that was a lie. “And I wanted it to be that way so when the time came for me to cut it off, it would be easier. I made it that way on purpose.”

The way he was watching you with rapt attention, actually hearing you out, it made your heart jump into your throat. I don’t want to be doing this right now. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose him.

Don’t be selfish, y/n, your brutally honest inner voice combated you.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked, his voice indicating he was eager to assist you however you may need.

Keep going.

You swallowed the tears, your voice low with the tears that vanished. “Yes, you can help me by not challenging this right now.”

He breathed in deeply, his jaw clenching. “It’s not that easy for me.”

“It has to be.”

This isn’t easy for me either.

“See, it’s always been like this with you,” he started, leaning a shoulder against the fridge, his face turning harder than before. “You think you can just control everything and everyone around you. But you can't, that's not how life works. There are other people in your life with real emotions–real feelings–that you don’t get to dictate.”

You felt utterly singled out, and it made your blood turn to fire in your veins.

Who is he to say all of this?

“Why do you want to put up with me when you view me so horribly anyways?” You spit out, your eyes growing wet in spite of yourself.

He saw the tears in your eyes, and on instinct, started walking towards you, his entire face softening in response. But you put up a hand to stop him, your rigid expression and body communicating for you.

“I don’t view you horribly,” he said, tone sincere. He sighed, stopping at the island between you, resting his hands stop it. “You know that.”

You watched the way his hands held so tightly to the counter. He was like his brother in a few ways, you’d come to notice. One of which being how passionate he could become when talking about something that meant a lot to him. And at this moment, you saw how deeply he felt for what he was saying. His entire body exuded his emotions— when he let them show. . .

And, for the past couple of months, you’d been lucky enough to witness him bringing those walls down. Especially during the past month of sleeping with him, growing intimate with him. . . In this moment, you despised the fact that you were so freely giving that up. You selfishly wanted to keep all of those pieces of him.

Frames of time fluttered through your mind, showing how he would watch you, so affectionately. You heard words that had been spoken, so caring and genuine. . .How patient he’d been so many times. . .

But, just now when he’d called you out on your control issues? Had he thought that all along? Had he felt animosity towards the way you liked control? Or, on the other side of the coin, had he only been pitying you all along? Putting up with you? Had he just started caring about you because he felt like he had to? You were the one who had pushed this thing between the two of you in the first place. . . maybe he hadn’t wanted it as badly as you. Maybe he’d just given in, and ended up sticking around for it because he felt bad for you and got free sex on his end.

He’d left the comfort of Maya for the chaos of you. You were sure he’d do it again if you gave him long enough. . . Because all you’d done was add trouble to his life with the way you naturally were. The obnoxious, broken, damaged person you were. Your baggage was heavy and you knew it was due time before it weighed him completely down.

“Well I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience,” you fought back, guarded tears growing thicker in your eyes. You couldn’t will them away this time. “You’ve said what you wanted to say; it’s off your chest. So just let yourself be done with me,” you bitterly insisted. “Take a fucking breather from the ravaging storm that is me.”

“I never–,” he shook his head, looking away. A sharp breath had his lip curling as his hands went to comb through his hair. His eyes were wet when you saw them next. Fuck. Please don’t cry, baby. “That’s not what I fucking mean and you know it! Why are you always assuming the worst about me? Always.”

“I don’t!” You argued, not believing your words for a second. You knew he was right. The tears, still resting at your ducts, started trickling down your cheeks. “I just– I know I have shit wrong with me. I know I’m the most controlling fucking person. I know that. But I’ve been through too fucking much to believe that you could actually want me. You shouldn’t want me, Jake! I’m–,” you started, choking on a sob. “I don’t even–. . .” You went to meet him across the island, putting your forearms on the counter as you rested your head between them. You let the tears win, letting them flow easily. Relentless trails of mascara on your cheeks and the arms you were crying into, you were sure.

When you looked up to see him again, he was no longer standing there.

See, Jake? You don’t want to stay. Why would you? Leave while you can. But why do I feel like I need you to stay? How did it come to this?

Just as you were turning to look out the window to contemplate, he was back in the kitchen, a wet washcloth held in his hand.

Stop taking care of me. You’re better than this.

But before you could argue with him, he was coming around the island to meet you, touching the warm cloth to your dampened cheek. And, like the selfish person you were, you let him clean your cheeks of the blackened tracks.

You stopped him, midway through him tending to the left side of your face, grabbing the cloth from him. “I can take it from here,” you muttered pitifully. “Please stop doing this.”

He relented, giving the cloth and standing across from you. His eyes watched you conscientiously as you finished cleaning your face. You set the cloth down on the counter.

His brows were knitted when he spoke next. “Stop doing what?”

You choked on a dry sob. “Helping me,” you responded resolutely. And when it looked like he was about to fight you on it, you chose to bring out the knives and lies again. Don’t break, y/n. With your next words, you looked away from him. At your feet instead. Freshly painted, black toenails matching your heart.“I don’t want you to.”

You had to lie. You had to protect him and his future from you. He had to get rid of you to do what was best for himself. But when you peered up at him through your wet lashes again, you questioned your methods. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly sniffed, bringing a hand to his face to get rid of the exposure of emotion.

He turned to look straight ahead, away from you. He looked up at the ceiling, putting his flexing hands in his front pockets.

When he looked at you next, his eyes were still wet, but there was a fire behind them. God, you fucking hated this. “Is that what you truly want? All of this? Gone? Over? You don’t want any of what we’ve had?”

You couldn’t stand seeing him like this. This needed to be over. Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

“I don’t want you,” you said, bile rising in your throat. Fucking liar. “I never wanted you as badly as I let on. I just wanted sex and you were an easy target because you live with me. Available whenever I needed you.” Your throat constricted, heart racing. You didn’t look away from him, pinning him with your eyes, trying your best to void them of any emotion. “And I don’t need you anymore,” you said, the words tight and constricting your opposing heart. “You’ve served your purpose.”

His lips curl into a shaky smile, mirroring shock and disbelief. Brown eyes, pooling with tears despite how hard set they are. “So you don’t love me?”

Love him? What?

And then it was rushing back.

Your mind, foggy and heart, completely transparent.

What you’d admitted to yourself and him in the hallway outside your room.

Had he said it back? The details were fading from your memory, blurry at best. You couldn’t remember.

Had you said it in response to him or just to expose yourself to him?

Did you love him? Truly?

You closed your eyes, needing to find a level ground as you felt completely shaky and unbalanced. How had you been so careless with your words?

What did you feel?

You know exactly how you feel, a calm, careful voice settled in your ear. You don’t have to deny it.

Yes, I do. If I do love him, I have to deny it. It’s what’s best for him.

“When did I say that?” You asked, avoiding it to start.

His eyes cleared, opening up as if he were getting somewhere with you.

You’re a coward, y/n.

“The other night,” he clarified, sniffling again. “When the guys were here.”

I know.

“I don’t remember saying it,” you stated, firm. “So, maybe I did,” you said, his eyes still hopeful. “But if I was high when I said it, there was no validity behind it. I wasn’t me. My head was in the clouds.” His jaw set, lips a hard line. Tense. “So it’s not fucking true. That’s something that someone would remember saying if they actually meant it. And I don’t.”

This was all a giant fucking mess. Why did it have to be like this?

He only stared at you, his nostrils flaring. His eyes were narrowed. His thoughts, most likely spinning. He just didn’t articulate any of the thoughts you knew to be buzzing in his head. He closed his eyes, pushing his thumb and pointer finger against his eyelids. When he opened them, the blank look on his features was worse than any anger he’d ever emitted.

The emotion was drained from him. Though, his hands were shaking as he untucked them into his front pockets.

“Okay,” he responded, his tone matching his empty expression. He took a deep breath and went to turn around to leave the kitchen, messing with his hair.

One of his nervous ticks, you thought, morosely.

But. . . You weren’t done. This couldn’t be it.

You suddenly didn’t want this conversation to be over. We aren’t done yet. There was no closure for me. No agreement on his end.

You’d made the terrible realization that once this talk was over, you two were over. Ripping the bandaid off didn’t seem so attractive anymore. It was stupid, but you were already missing him as you watched him walk away. The sight of him leaving made even more tears accumulate in your eyes. You knew he wasn’t done— and neither were you.

You snapped. “Jacob!”

Saying his name stopped him right before he could exit the kitchen.

His shoulders tensed as he turned slowly, facing you. His expressionless face now took on all of the emotion you knew he wanted to feel.

That’s it, you thought, challenging the man in front of you. Keep up with me.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” He snapped, patience completely gone.

The line was being drawn. And as invisible as it was, you could still swear you saw it being drawn in the space between you and where he stood.

“I want you to say that this is fucking over,” you fumed, your voice raising.

He laughed hotly, rolling his eyes. He rubbed his chin, contemplating his next words. “I don’t want it to be fucking over. I want you to stop whatever game you’re playing. I know you and I know this is coming from somewhere deep in the roots of your trauma.”

“Don’t you dare use my trauma against me, fucker!” You roared, your skin red hot.

He pointed a finger at you, accusing. “I am not using it against you! I’m trying to get you to snap out of this!”

“Snap out of what?!” You sneered back. You crossed your arms to hide the fact that you were shaking. “Finally being honest with you?!” You paused, a part of your heart break open of its own accord. “You were just going to fucking leave me anyway. This wasn’t meant to last. It never was.”

“Leave you?! That’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to leave you,” he begged you to understand.

Your heart pressed firmly to your chest with how hard it was pounding. “My own fucking mom did it, Jake! So what in the hell would stop you from doing it, too?” You blinked away the tears that came with the way you were hurting yourself with these words.

He brought two fisted hands to his eyes, his body stock still, but chest heaving as he let the words sit in the air around you.

The words hanging in the air were mocking you, though, and you needed to hear him speak to clear their torment.

“Ja—.”

“Do not let your trauma dictate who you choose to think I am. Don’t use it as a way to tell me who I am. I’m not your mom. I’m not the people who have left you,” he breathed deeply, finally showing you his eyes. They were red. And as he ferociously wiped at his cheeks yet again, you noticed why they were bloodshot. When had he started crying? His hands flattened next to him with his next words, spread out and making a point. “Stop acting like I’m someone I’m not when I’ve proven that wrong time and again by being there for you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, wanting nothing more than to cross the room and kiss him. Let him know how much you needed him and how the words you’d spoken in the hallway were true.

But what’s best for him? His career? Remember how Josh said he didn’t need this right now? And neither do you.

“Well, I don’t want it,” you repeated your lie. “Accept that.”

Within seconds, his eyes shifted from sad and pleading to. . . Vacant. Right in front of your eyes, you witnessed how it felt to return back to square one with him.

And you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so fucking terrible.

“I accept it,” he relented, tone empty of any feeling. Come back to me. “We’re done.”

The way your heart fell all the way to your feet— how your knees felt as though they would buckle under the heavy weight of emotion— made you regret every single thing you’d said.

At that moment, you wanted to take it all back. But it was too late.

The man you saw in front of you wasn’t your Jake.

The man you saw was the one who’d entered your apartment on that destined day in May. Before you could even think to say anything to cut through the heaviness penetrating the room, he was gone.

And you were giving into the way your knees begged to let you fall and you did, back against the opposite side of the island so he couldn’t see you. The tears fell, silent and unrelenting, as you heard the front door open and harshly close. Signaling the end you didn’t want, whatsoever.

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 2, 2022

A little over one month later. . .

You woke up slowly, not wanting to face the day.

Life was stressful and weird right now, and every time your eyes blinked open to face a new morning, you dreaded what the day might come with.

Thankfully today, you had a distraction from the sadness of life. You were meeting with Theo across town at a coffee shop to study for an upcoming exam in one of your more studious courses.

When you’d created your course schedule for this semester, you’d loaded yourself down with 12 credits in required courses, and 4 credits in electives. You’d thought it to be a good idea: make your senior year count with a giant ass course load. Next semester was outlined as well. . . With 16 credits of its own.

But, it was not the best idea.

It was causing waves upon waves of stress that you really didn’t need. You were grateful for how it helped (a little) in distracting you from your sorrow after losing what you had with Jake. . . But it made you dread going to school even more than you already did. You weren’t able to catch your breath. You’d never dreaded school until recently. You were going to school for writing when you still found yourself lacking a passion for it. The only thing that you looked forward to were the few music courses you had to take for your minor.

The giant course load, the long hours at the B&G now that Josh only worked one day a week, Jake’s presence, Jake’s lack of presence.

Your group of people had become extremely absent due to constantly working in the recording studio. Yes, recording studio. You were beyond proud and completely happy for them. . . but you’d hardly seen any of them for the past month. Even the one who lived with you. . . And the one thing you still had after you broke things off with Jake was at least having the opportunity to look at him every now and then.

And, although you wouldn’t speak it out loud, you were so very glad that neither of you had brought up the prospect of him moving out amidst that terrible conversation in the kitchen. All you had left with him was the occasional glance (you to him, of course; he never looked at you anymore).

Humiliating as it was, you hated the idea of him moving out. Even though you knew it would be coming sooner rather than later with his career picking up. But, even though he still lived with you, your schedules never aligned for you to see him much. The guys were recording artists now. They’d spent all of September, working with their manager as they accepted a record deal and started the process of recording music.

It was truly what all of their dreams were made of, and it was what you wanted Jake to have all along. . . But you selfishly missed seeing him. You were excited for him with what the future might bring, but you were also dreading his complete and utter lack of presence in your life. . . The thoughts of it all were draining you.

All of the stress over that and school, had even started causing you to have a super upset stomach— you were vomiting every day from all that weighed on your mind – the jumbled mess your life had become. So, that’s why you’d made the executive decision to create some sort of schedule of things to distract you. You cleaned every Saturday evening, you met with Theo every Sunday, you jogged every morning like you used to (especially since you’d started fucking stress eating). . .

You’d even taken time to try and healthily write thoughts in your journal, rather than keeping them all in your messy head. Although, all they did was translate as a depressing, convoluted mess on the pages.

But none of your coping strategies were truly what you wanted. What you were craving most was the person you’d pushed out of your life. The person who was now gone more than he was home. And when he was home, and you were able to catch a glimpse of him, all it did was hurt to look at him. Things were tense; you couldn’t even talk to him the way you wanted. It just hurt to be near him at all. But you wanted him. You just wanted him in ways you knew you couldn’t have him. Especially after you’d been the one to break things off.

You were upset that you’d gotten into anything with him in the first place. You knew it wasn’t meant to last, but you’d still let yourself get caught up in him. It had been impossible not to. It was all so natural with him. It was a giant joke that the universe had cast on your life: the one person you wanted was the one you could never have.

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 8, 2022

Your boobs were hurting like you were about to start your period.

Anytime they felt heavy, looked bigger, or itched, you knew it was coming.

A telling sign. And for a week or two, they’d been that way.

It made you think about checking the period tracker app on your phone— see when it was coming. And when you had checked it, you realized you were late.

It’s because of all of the fucking stress, you thought, deducing it to only that to keep from worrying about anything else. There was no way it was anything else anyway.

The only person you’d had sex with in recent months was Jake and he always pulled out. There was also the added piece of how you’d been weaning off of birth control for the past several months. Late periods were known to occur while going off of that particular drug.

You were checking the toilet paper every time you went pee, waiting to see blood on it. And when you finally did see just the slightest bit of blood, you decided to check for tampons in your bathroom cabinet.

Aaand. . . You realized you were out of them.

Needing to go to Walmart for a few groceries anyway (you’d eaten all of the Cosmic Brownies you’d recently bought and needed more immediately), you decided to make a quick run for necessities.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It took you longer than you had planned trying to find a box of damn tampons. Walmart was sold out of your go-to’s, and searching Google to figure out a good environmentally-friendly dupe was harder than you’d anticipated.

But, it must have been your lucky day. Because, as you stood there, a graying woman in the tell-tale blue vest came up with totes to stock the shelves. And, as she started unloading, you saw a box of your normal brand of products in a tote.

Walking over, you started to kindly ask if you could have one of the boxes of tampons in her tote. . .but the smell of her perfume was so strong and outrageously floral– you could smell every hint of artificial rose. Your stomach churned at the obtrusion to your nose, so you backed away a bit to gain your bearings.

You went ahead and asked once you’d settled back a foot or two. When she smiled back at you, you felt bad for being so grossed out by the smell of her perfume, but damn she’d layered it on thick . . .

“Which kind, sweetheart?” Her voice wobbled with her age, the hump in her back much more prominent when she went to bend down to grab it for you.

You extended a delicate hand, touching her frail arm to stop her. “Oh, ma’am,” you said, causing her to look up at you. “You don’t have to get them out. I can do it.” She raised a brow, so you hastily added, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

It took everything in you to not help her up from her slightly bent position, as you didn’t want to break any boundaries. You also weren’t sure if you could handle being so close to her with the way she smelled like an artificial flower shop. . .your tummy was still rolling with the scent and you didn’t want to puke on the poor thing.

When she stood back up, as straight as she could, her smile was bright behind her magenta lipstick.

“Oh, sweetie,” she winked a glassy eye, placing her hand on your arm this time. You smiled as she continued, “You are one of the rare ones, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” You giggled, holding your nose a bit when her hand came up to touch you. How much of the stuff had she sprayed on herself?

“Willing to help your elders?” She questioned, thankfully letting go and stepping back again.

You took a breath and blinked, not expecting that. “Oh, of course. I wouldn’t ever think of doing anything different,” you shook your head, your grin sticking to your lips. “I don’t want you having to do that for me.”

“Well, you are just too sweet, honey. If you’re sure, I’m going to continue stocking. You go ahead and get it out, honey.”

With that, she walked back to her prior job.

And when you bent to get your tampons, your stomach lurched. Again. Just like it’d been doing for the past week or so. But, you felt like you might actually vomit, and you didn’t want to do that in the Walmart totes. So, you put a hand to your mouth when you stood back up.

The woman—Wanda, her name tag said— looked over at you. Her brow wrinkled when she asked, “You alright, honey?”

Swallowing, you nodded, knitting a brow. “Oh, yeah. Don’t you worry about me.”

She nodded back, almost turning back to her job when she stopped. “You know, it’s so funny. I remember once back in my day, when I was around your age, I was in an aisle just like this one. . . Getting my own napkins, searching high and low for them,” she chuckled. You smiled kindly, unsure of why she was telling you this. You were about to turn on your heel with a quick goodbye when her voice stopped you. “But, it’s funny, I searched so hard that day, and later that week. . . I found out I was pregnant!” She got a kick out of that one, slapping her tiny thigh. “I’d been late for weeks.”

In contrast to her humorous state, your stomach sank. . . Plummeting to your knees.

But before you could say anything back, she was being called by her supervisor to help locate an item. She waved a quick goodbye, and you barely registered it. Your thoughts were going insane.

No. There was no way. You knew you were late. . . But you weren’t that late.

School had just been stressful. Your anxiety building up to you being sick and everyth—. Fuck. Your nausea.

No. No no no no.

It wasn’t possible.

Standing stock still in that aisle, you measured your thoughts the best you could. Tried to make them all slow the fuck down. Flashbacks of Jake infiltrated your mind, him being the only one to have aided in that possibility.

The only guy you’d slept with in months. And he always, always pulled out. Without fail. Fuck. Absolutely not. Why were you even thinking of him? Of that? Entertaining that thought?

It wouldn’t have even been a blip of an idea had that lady not mentioned anything. Hurriedly, you scampered down the aisle, wanting to get out of dodge of the ladies’ aisle. But just as you’d passed the pregnancy tests, you stopped in your tracks, walking back to them.

There is no fucking way this is possible, you thought. You shook your head, almost continuing out of the aisle again.

But. That dreadful voice nagged at you, causing you to stay in your place.

Better safe than sorry, y/n, it seemed to remark smartly to you. What’s the harm in checking?

And without really thinking, you were getting out your phone to search for the most accurate tests. You weren’t about to get a false positive that might freak you out for no reason. As you navigated the best brands on a blog, bile rose in your throat, your tummy doing somersaults.

You didn’t want to think about it as you eyed the Clear Blue tests. This was stupid anyway. But you went to grab one, in spite of you knowing you literally weren’t pregnant.

You didn’t know why you were fucking embarrassed as you reached for the box of tests. It wasn’t like you weren’t a grown ass fucking woman. And it wasn’t like you were actually pregnant. There was no way in hell. This was just a precaution to prove to yourself that you were overthinking things. There was no way.

Every single time you’d been with Jake, he’d pulled out. Every. Single. Ti–.

Then, it came back. The night you’d gotten high on Josh’s fucking green.

Fuck.

It had been one of the most euphoric times you’d had sex with Jake. That much you could remember–and you hadn’t forgotten how good it had felt for a damn second. And, the more you thought about it. . . It dawned on you as your stomach rolled.

Knowing how into it you’d been. . . How good it had been. The weed hindering your decision— probably hadn’t used fucking protection then.

Dammit.

Most likely, you knew he hadn’t pulled out. You’d both been so out of it. . . too lost in the moment. (A moment that you had, admittedly, been waiting for– feeling his naked cock inside of you, throbbing as he released his hot seed inside of you. . .)

And, as you stood under the judging, bright fluorescent lights of fucking Wally World, the words were coming back to you. . . the entire moment was flooding back to you. Whether you wanted it to or not.

You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need.

So close. Fuck.

His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. His lips, still swollen from your kisses and shiny from your release. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you as your body trembled– your nerves humming.

You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him.

Completely.

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulse inside of you, confirming his words.

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “But I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influence. You don’t want–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your folds pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought. You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand.

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness and an air of excitement painting his tone with his next words. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone.

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit twitched and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost–shuddering and heart chanting his name.

Then, with a final groaned growl, his eyelids drooped, and his irises hazily watched you. His mouth relaxed to an ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, as he spilled warm and plentiful inside of you.

You remember now that, in your hazy state, you’d banked on everything being okay. Because you were going to get a Plan B. . .

But, there’d never been a Plan B.

You felt a cold sweat develop on your forehead as your hands became clammy with fear. Your hand trembled as you held the box of Clear Blue tests tightly to your chest.

You didn’t need this. Fuck. He didn’t need this.

It was just a fluke. There was no way. It was one time.

So, that’s why, when you reached out to get a box of First Response tests, you knew it was just to back up what you knew.

Two different types of tests to confirm the truth. Double reassurance.

It was not possible at all that you were pregnant. How fucking often does it happen after just one time? An hour later, when you got home, you decided to push the tests all the way to the back of your underwear drawer.

You decided to hide them because you knew it was stupid to even begin to think of the impossible. And you were not about to entertain such an asinine idea.

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 15, 2022

You put off taking the test for as long as you possibly could. Tried to ignore the fact that it was even in your drawer.

Even though you knew there was a chance that you were, you didn’t want to sit on it, in the case that it might not be true. Because it more than likely wasn’t. But when that week trickled into the next, and you still hadn’t been greeted by Aunt Flo, you started getting more and more worried.

And the puking didn’t let up for anything. . . In fact, only getting progressively worse.

Which, on the Saturday of the next week, clicked as a horrid sign to you.

No.

Surely the fuck not. It was just stress. There was no harm in taking the test to prove yourself right. So, you gave in and went to grab the test after you’d done your newly scheduled weekly cleaning of the apartment, that next Saturday night. You decided it was ideal to do it then since Jake was gone performing at another festival with the guys.

Halloween-themed festival this time. . . And as fun as it’d sounded, you knew when Josh had texted you about it that there was no way in hell you were going to go to that.

Biggest reason being that you and Jake were still not on speaking terms, and you didn’t want to test those waters. You also didn’t want to run the risk of seeing Maya. Because you already knew that seeing her might actually make you keel over and vomit.

And also, Elsie was too busy to attend, so you for goddamned sure weren’t going to attend and experience anything negative without your wingwoman. So, you’d given a half-assed, ridiculous excuse of homework. Thankfully, he was wonderfully Josh and didn’t give you any trouble over it.

But, it meant Jake was gone tonight, and you could take the test without running into him. The night was still young, and you had plenty of time to get it done and out of the way before he got back.

Grabbing the tests felt like you were taking a giant leap into a field of the unknown and that was terrifying as hell to you. But you didn’t let it stop you from reaching your shaking hand into the deepest tresses of your underwear drawer. Once in hand, you rushed to the bathroom.

Calm down, y/n. Just breathe, you coached yourself, as you read the giant Over 99% Accurate! at the top of each box. Chances are very slim. You just have to take the tests.

You read the instructions on the back of each box at least five times. Each box had three different forms of tests: two regular tests and one digital for both brands. And you were about to pee on all six.

Wait. That might not work. How do you even stall your fuckin’ pee like that? For six tests? And still be totally sure it’s accurate? You didn’t want to chance inaccuracy of any kind, so you thought of your next best option. On a whim, you squatted to look in the under-sink cabinet for Dixie cups. You could not for the life of you remember the last time you bought those, but maybe. . .

Aha!

Shoved to the back of the cabinet, forgotten, was a dispenser you now remember as Elsie’s. Her dental routine, always having been extensive, now coming in extremely handy. Once you had your hands on it, you pulled one cup sticking out of the top.

Last one. Damn. Lucky day.

Let’s just keep getting lucky, then.

So, you sat down to pee, after reviewing the instructions for the both brands of sticks once more.

And, once you’d peed in the cup, washed your hands, and built up the final bit of courage to do it, you opened the boxes. As quickly as you could, you got all six out, unwrapped them, and then dipped each tab in the little cup. Once you felt they’d all been dipped the perfect amount, you laid them out on the counter and set the timer on your phone.

All six laid there, taunting you and your stupid, careless decision. The two digitals next to one another, blinked with the time until results appeared. The four other tests’ screens, all got colored, one-by-one by your pee. Gross.

Deciding you couldn’t watch, you went ahead and fed Stevie during the waiting period. You left your phone on the counter, too, the volume turned up all the way so you’d be able to hear the alarm.

Just before you threw the boxes away in the kitchen, you read the backs of them once more. One part stuck out to you, the piece of information you were reading, both reassuring you and terrifying you all at once.

“This pregnancy test detects the “pregnancy hormone” (hCG), which starts showing up in your urine shortly after implantation. Plus, its DualSense(TM) Technology may help prevent false positives in the very small number of non-pregnant women who may have low levels of hCG in their urine.”

At least I know they’ll show me accurate results. Like the fact that I’m not pregnant, you recited, once more.

You bent over to feed your fluffy gray cat, but when you did, you felt the usual wave of sickness flood your senses. But there was no stopping it like you were sometimes able to do. Thankfully, you were able to get her food in the dish and still make it back over to the toilet, in time to empty the contents of your stomach.

And, as if on cue, just as you flushed it down, the timer on your phone went off.

You suddenly wanted Elsie there with you, holding your hand as you met your fate. But you quickly pushed that to the side, remembering that this was on you. This was your mistake to face. And your body. You had to be the one to make all of the choices that followed any possible, unwanted result. You had to face this alone. This was on you.

By The Seaside’s cheery tone did not match your sick tummy or the dread that was pooling at the bottom of it. It was as though bricks had been piled there, keeping you on the ground until the tone started getting so infuriating, you couldn’t take the sound any longer. You also didn’t want to wait so long to possibly get inaccurate results.

Your eyes were pinched shut as you stood up. Yes, to keep the dizziness subdued, but mostly out of fear for what awaited you on the countertop. When you opened your eyes, you directed your sight first to your phone, pressing the STOP button to turn off the seriously grating alarm tone.

Before you even glimpsed the counter holding your (possible) future, you knew what you were going to see.

And you were proven terribly correct.

Four tests with two pink lines on each screen. Two digitals saying two words you didn’t want to think true. . .

YES (with a stupid little plus sign) on one and Pregnant, big, fat, and bold on the other.

Fitting. Big and fat. Just like I’m about to fucking be.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You laid in bed crying for hours. You didn’t even remember getting to your bed. But by some miracle you did. And you never wanted to leave it. This was the last thing you fucking wanted. Really.

You avoided touching your stomach for a while, not wanting to make any association to the unspeakable reality of your situation.

A fucking baby wasn’t in the cards at all. It couldn’t be.

You could not have this baby. No way, no how. You and Jake weren’t ever going to work as a couple. For prior reasons and because you fucking stomped out any of that possibility with the hateful, untrue things you’d told him in August.

Then, there was the career aspect. If you were afraid of Jake compromising his career for you, you knew he would most probably (most definitely) put his career on hold for his own fucking kid. And you refused to let that happen. It was not an option for a baby to get in the way of the lifelong dream he was finally living out. He was more important than that being halted for a barely-there kid.

You still had no earthly clue what the fuck you were going to do with your life, but even you refused to quit your life for a baby you didn’t want. Before you could schedule the appointment, though, you were sobbing yourself to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You woke to the telling sound of the front door opening and closing.

Your eyes were difficult to open. But, as you pried your red and puffy lids open, you squinted at your phone screen to see a text from Els and the fact that it was 2:30 a.m.

Dear god, where has he been?, you thought, irritated at being woken at an ungodly hour on this wretched night. All you wanted to do was sleep.

But, you couldn’t stop yourself from contemplating where he’d been. . . you soon regretted the train of thought. Because, you knew exactly why he’d been out so late. It was the same reason he used to stay out late. Women. Now, it was Maya, most likely.

You blew into yet another tissue from your bedside table. The disgusting pile of dirty kleenex from your delightful evening had come to cover the pretty white painted wood.

Just like this horrid situation is going to take over my life if I don't stop it from happening.

Taking comfort in what you could control in the present, you decided to get off of your worthless ass to throw away the tissues in your bedroom’s trash basket.

Shit.

The trash.

Without giving a thought what Jake’s reaction would be to your swollen red face, you made a beeline from your bedroom to the kitchen’s waste bin.

Gratefully, he was nowhere to be seen. And when you heard the shower turn on, you knew you were safe for a bit. So you hurriedly wrapped up the bag and ran it down the concrete stairs to the complex’s dumpster. On the way back up the stairs, you rushed, too, as you didn’t want to risk seeing Jake at all. You didn’t know how long he’d be in the shower, and considering it was late, you figured he’d be in and out.

Right before you were able to grace the last step on your way up the stairs, you nearly tripped.

And, just as you gasped, catching yourself from mid-fall, you also protectively grabbed another part of your body.

Only on instinct, you defended the choice.

But as you made the rest of the way to the apartment, you didn’t move the hand from the bottom of your belly.

You couldn’t defend that.

To your relief, when you made it back up, hesitantly opening the door, you realized Jake was still in the shower. As you put a new bag in, you had to let go of your tummy. And it was fine. You didn’t miss the contact.

It was just instinct before.

But, just as you finished with your job, you were no longer alone.

You watched him leave the bathroom, towel around his waist. The waist you’d hungrily gripped so many times before. . . But, in recent times’ fashion, he didn’t look your way for even a millisecond. You knew why. You knew you’d been an asshole and said terrible things you could never take back.

You said what you did for good reason, your inner, brutally honest voice reminded you for the 80th time in the past month.

For as long as you could, you let your eyes follow his body, surely still warm from his shower. He was so completely handsome. His long, dark, wet hair, sticking to his tanned, broad shoulders, which shined with water droplets. Droplets that trickled to dip below the towel at his waist. . .just as you’d witnessed them do before.

Before. Better times.

Though, as soon as he was in your line of sight, he was gone.

Minutes later, you were back in the safety of your bed, trying to not think about your roommate, wet and possibly naked next door as you searched Google for a Planned Parenthood near you.

And, as you were scheduling your appointment, you refused to acknowledge the soft thoughts that were entering your brain.

A baby. Not so bad. . .Soft. Cuddly. Sweet. Yours. . .

Jake’s.

But before you could hit the precipice of overthought, you reminded yourself that it was unreasonable and it would be selfish to keep the baby. It would be you halting Jake in one more way.

And, just as you were tiptoeing the edge of a deep slumber, an even more devastating thought entered your mind.

You could absolutely not have this child.

Because, based on your tumultuous past of mistreating other people, how would this poor, innocent baby be any different? Be safe from you? Even with the gut-wrenching thoughts, you fell into sleep easily. Crying always took it out of you. Now you could blame part of it on the life you were growing inside of you.

Without thinking of it, your hand found your still-flat belly again as you drifted off. . .

But, when you did, your sleep was not that easy. Your dreams, ever-vivid. A mixture of wonderful, pastel-colored moments with a giggling baby, a glowy morning light tickling her pretty features. . .

Then the terrible ones where you saw yourself as the exact person who’d hurt you most. . .Your mother.

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 29, 2022

Unbeknownst to you at the time you’d scheduled your Planned Parenthood appointment, you’d planned it for the same day as Josh’s annual Halloween bash.

The one he would be hosting at your house, just as he always had. And, he’d planned it when he always did. The Saturday before Halloween. You just hadn’t thought of it when you’d scheduled.

So many people in your home, on the day of an appointment for which you’d had equal parts apprehensiveness and eagerness. . . maybe slightly more apprehensive. Either way, they were two completely different emotions. And you weren’t sure how in the hell you’d handle them once the deed was actually done. . . So the prospect of coming back to an apartment full of people to feel it all was not your favorite.

Good thing was, you’d at least been able to reschedule your appointment for earlier in the day, which would end up giving you plenty of time to cry and cope on the drive home, get back home, cope some more, and then dress up. . . And then you’d be fine. . . right?

You’d decided to put off the appointment for as long as you felt like you could. The night you’d found out had been a shitshow of emotions. But when you awoke the next day, there had been a new light that hadn’t appeared the night before when you’d read the tests.

A light that left you feeling unsure of ending it so quickly. You just hadn’t felt totally comfortable going in so soon without giving it time. You’d wanted time to process it. So, you’d scheduled it far enough out to do so.

Two weeks. You decided that giving yourself two weeks to really think it through, would help you have enough leeway to think and come to a sensible conclusion.

But. . . you still hadn’t come to one. Not really.

You’d at least had the two weeks on your own, the apartment being void of Jake. The boys’ record label had suggested going to a cabin in the middle of the woods to write music and spend that time together, just them. They’d left roughly midway through the first week after you’d found out. Much as you wanted to deny it, you had missed him. His presence. But him being gone had been what you needed to thoroughly digest it all. Theorize. Imagine all kinds of scenarios for you and the baby.

But the days and the nights were different– a total contrast of each other. And you’d bounced back and forth between the strong, all encompassing feelings for long enough that you’d made your decision. Even though it wasn’t necessarily an easy decision, you knew it was what needed to happen.

Most nights, you fell asleep, holding your belly (a little excited by it growing just the slightest bit in the past two weeks). . . You’d come to the same conclusion anytime your head hit the pillow. The euphoric, pastel dreams. The precious baby you could hold and love, safe in your arms.

You knew what you wanted at those moments and it felt heavenly, honestly. . .

But the utter trainwreck of thoughts that plagued you in the daytime were what had you getting into your car, putting the clinic in your Maps app. Tumbling between your thoughts of not harming Jake and not becoming your mother and harming the child, you’d made the final decision of what was best for all parties involved.

Especially the baby you held in your womb.

Your hand went to its natural resting place, the bottom of your faintly protruding tummy, where you imagined your baby growing steadily. You hadn’t researched how big it was or even let yourself do the math of how far along you were. No tracker apps. No research. It would keep you disconnected enough to go through with the most beneficial option for everyone.

Avoiding all of the fun things had been difficult, as you’d spent every waking minute thinking about the life inside of you. The baby motivated you. Kept you going when you started feeling sad. . . Weird as it was, the tiny little bean in your belly was inspiring you on a daily basis.

But, as you came to the first stoplight on your journey, you remembered this was best.

The appointment was at the Hempstead clinic. You’d made it at that location, forty minutes away from your home, in the hopes you wouldn’t see anyone you knew. No one knew about the life inside of you and you had decided it probably needed to stay that way.

It had become increasingly burdensome to keep it from your Elsie. There’d never been a time in your life where you didn’t tell her everything. Keeping the thing with Jake from her had already been hard enough, so adding a baby to the mix made it rise tenfold. Any time she Facetimed you, texted you, or called you, you wanted to tell her. A couple of times you almost slipped up.

But telling her that would mean admitting everything about you and Jake. The sex. The feelings you’d developed. The way you’d cut things off. . .

And you didn’t want her advice. Weren’t ready for the way she’d react to it all. She always seemed to conflict with your ideas on things like this. . . the hard decisions you’d make. She was notorious for saying you “make things too hard for yourself” and to “let go of the heaviness”, but all you normally heard was “I don’t understand what you’re feeling, but I’m going to tell you this worthless piece of advice anyway.” You knew she’d judge how you ended things. She’d question it. Quiz you.

Now was not the time for any of that. You already had your constant, terribly rude voice of reason that coached you through the tough things. So, as much as it tempted you, you didn’t dare mention any of it to your sister: your time with Jake or what it had ended up producing in your uterus.

(There was also the crippling fear that she may slip up and tell Josh. . .and he was the last person you wanted to find out. . .The fear of disappointing him two times the amount as before.)

But, at this moment, as you joined the crazy busy traffic on the highway, soul music lifting your spirits as high as they could go, you wished she was there to talk it through with you. So for the thousandth time, you tried doing it yourself. The same thoughts you’d gone over and over for the past two weeks.

The first thing you thought of every time your mind started rambling was what it could and would honestly, truthfully be like.

How could you actually make it work?

Usually, this was where you’d lose hope, telling yourself you absolutely couldn’t make it work. . . start derailing from the possibility of happiness. . . but as that certain Aretha Franklin song came on your fucking shuffle. . .

Like an eagle protects his nest, for you I'll do my best

Stand by you like a tree and dare anybody to try and move me

Darlin' in you I've found, strength where I was torn down

I don't know what's in store, but together we can open any door

The lyrics inspired your thoughts to take a surprising turn for a. . . promising, positive outlook.

There was most likely a way you could make sure to hold Jake to his dream. You could encourage him to stay on track. You’d been able to talk through things with him before. Even though things were weird now, you could do it again. . . probably. Hopefully. Do what you always did and make a list of reasons why he should, get him to understand the importance of him not giving up on it. . .

Then the darkness filtered in a bit, reminding you of how hateful you’d been to him during your last conversation. Would he listen to you? Could you blame him if he didn’t want to? And the recycled thought of how toxic you were. . . You’d cared so deeply for him and still allowed yourself to talk that way to him to protect him. What in the hell would you say to your child to protect it in the future? Why was your idea of loving someone so fucked up?

Could you fix that? Figure it out?

At the very least, you could try. For your baby. For you.

You merged lanes, the track slipping into the next. You turned the volume down to hear your thoughts. Give them your attention.

How would you raise the baby? As roommates? Weird. Friends? Sad. You couldn’t cross the territory from before again. That would make things too complicated for the baby. . .And probably for you while you figured things out. Getting lost in him again wasn’t an option. The glorious fucking– it wasn’t an option. Did he even want that? Probably the fuck not. . . But you knew he’d make something work for the baby. . . He’d make sure the baby felt safe with an arrangement between the two of you. You knew the kind heart he held in his chest.

You could do it as friends and make it okay. You could. Even if it broke your heart to only be his friend as you raised a baby together. You would do it for your baby. For him. You would do it for him–because you'd cut things off with him for a reason. A solid reason. And a baby didn’t change that.

In fact, a baby affirmed that it stayed the way you had made it. . . You’d made a mess and he didn’t need to be distracted by you. You could share the baby, yes, but you were the obvious primary caretaker. You’d take over whenever he was away or needed time to focus. . . It wouldn’t be fully on him to handle a baby.

It would barely be on him. You were the mom. This was your thing.

But, it would be fully on him to handle your bullshit. You weren’t worthy of a relationship like he could offer. And he didn’t need to be on your healing journey with you while he pursued what made him feel happy and fulfilled. Just like the rules had stated: you weren’t his responsibility.

Responsibility. . .he didn’t need to have any with the baby, honestly. He didn’t need to be involved. Only if he wanted to be. You weren’t going to force him.

But damn, you wanted him there for all of it. From birth up until the day of college graduation. . .

The sound of your phone ringing through Hands Free interrupted your train of thought, right as you got on the exit you needed to take to get you closer to the clinic. You didn’t even look at the caller ID as you pressed the answer button, focusing on the tricky road you’d made it to instead. You knew it was probably Josh or Elsie, calling to figure out something about tonight.

“Hello?” you said, loud enough for the other person to hear, starting the conversation.

“Hey.”

The voice you heard through the sound system of your car was almost enough to make you veer off of the roads, actually making you swerve the slightest bit.

Jake. Why was he calling?

“H-hey,” you stuttered, not sure where to even begin in conversation with him. You hadn’t spoken for a damned month, and now you knew you were carrying his baby. . . things were strange. Altered. Poles apart from before. You covered your wavering response with as much truth as you could tell. “Sorry, driving on some weird roads. On my way to a doctor’s appointment right now.”

“It’s fine,” he responded, voice hard and clipped. Unfamiliar. He’s not your Jake. Your heart fell as you felt that newfound (or re-found?) tension fill the conversation. “Just calling to tell you I’m leaving my key with Josh so he can get in to decorate. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Your brow wrinkled, suddenly curious and a little irritated. “Josh has a key. . .?” You took another exit that indicated how many miles you had left until your destination.

“I lost the little fuckin’ thing,” Josh’s voice now reverbrated, grainy through your speakers. You smiled at the sound of him, but turned down the volume to make it less overpowering, in case he talked again. “I’m so sorry, love!”

“It’s fine, Joshy,” you conceded with a sigh. “Hope I don’t get a burglar or some shit thanks to you,” you were joking, but also completely serious. “You’re replacing the entire apartment if that happens.”

“You’ve got it, Mama,” he responded dutifully.

But the only thing you could hear was mama. . .Mama, mama. . .fuck.

Your hands started sweating as you noticed your Map had you down to three minutes until you made it. Rather than making it obvious that you were lost in thought, you started talking. Using it as a way to distract yourself as well. (More so for yourself, if you were being honest.)

“I thought Elsie was coming to help you? She has one.”

“Her plane got delayed and she’s going to be getting here later than she planned,” Jake replied to you, short in his response. “See you la–.”

“Is she okay?” You asked, your heart rate increasing at the thought of her possibly being stuck somewhere. “Is she safe? I’ve been driving. Do you think she’s tried texting me? Josh, is she okay?”

You heard Josh chuckle, which eased your nerves. “Yes, she’s perfectly fine,” he confirmed gently. “She’s on the flight now, and if things line up, she should be here in two hours, so we’re good.”

“Okay, goo–.”

“And I’m sure she’s texted you because you both text each other non-fuckin’-stop,” he pointed out. Then you heard him laugh at himself. “No–I love it. But she’s okay.”

Jake’s voice, annoyed, broke through the flow of your conversation with his brother. “Alright, well, see you la–.”

Just as you pulled up to the clinic, you cut him off. “Jake.” Truthfully, the reason you kept him on the line was because your heart was heavily thrumming in your ears, vision tunneling. . . You just needed to hear his voice. He couldn’t hang up yet. “Why won’t you be there to let him in?”

He sighed, the sound making your heart slow down a little. You could imagine him rubbing his face or giving you a look that said “really?”. But he actually responded kindly, sounding like himself. “I have a few things to do before the party. I won’t be home.”

Even though you so badly wanted to ask what those things were, just to continue hearing his voice, you didn’t keep him. It wasn’t your place to know and you knew better than to ask anymore questions that weren’t your business.

“Okay.” You paused, thinking if it was okay to ask what you wanted to next. Just go for it. “Are you going to be at the party?”

Embarrassing to ask, but here you were.

“Yes. . .?” He replied, tone questioning.

Relief. That was what you were feeling. You were relieved that he’d be there.

He waited a few beats and then spoke again. “. . .Why?”

“No reason. Just wondering if you’d be at the party,” you rushed out, not wanting to push him further.

The next thing you heard throughout the body of your car was Josh’s voice again. He was hurling expletive after expletive. And then, “Did you see that, Jake? Did you see that?” in the background of the call.

It was enough to make you laugh. You’d been there for his loss of patience on the road. Completely oblivious drivers getting an earload from the man in the next car over. It was even funnier when you’d look over to see them grinning, or singing along to a song. . .no idea that they were getting called horrendous names.

Simply watching him lose his cool on others was entertaining because it was hardly ever seen. The best thing you could think to compare him to was an angry leprechaun when he’d start on his little road rage fits.

And without warning, the sound you needed to hear most rushed through the car and into your ears. Jake’s lovely, raspy chuckle. It’d been so long since you’d heard it. Too long. (You might’ve turned up your volume a smidge in hopes of hearing it again.)

The insane person in you wanted to ask him to do it again. But, obviously, you didn’t.

Though, he didn’t immediately try to hang up when he spoke next. When you heard him again, it was almost like you could imagine the past month hadn’t happened. The talk in the kitchen hadn’t happened. . . things were normal. You were okay. He was okay. Both of you, peaceful . . .blissful.

“Are you good?” He asked smoothly– familiarly. Jake. And, you were sure your ears were fooling you, but you swore you could hear a hint of concern in his tone.

You weren’t sure what to say. This was more than you expected from him by far. . . Shocked was an understatement. What you wanted was to open up, tell him every last thing on your mind, but you knew you couldn’t do that anymore.

You plainly weren’t. You put a hand on your tummy and aimed to match his sincerity in your tone. Settling with a, “Yeah, I’m good,” as your reply.

I miss you, though, you added, silently.

“Alright,” he said. But he didn’t hang up. Instead, the line stayed connected almost as though he was. . .waiting? Was he? Possibly waiting for you to talk more? Like he used to? Giving you time? But before you could think any further, he was wrapping it up. “See you later.”

The tone clicked off, leaving you in the silence of your car briefly before your eardrums got attacked by Marvin Gaye’s voice.

“Shit.”

You reached the knob, turning down the volume.

Had I really turned it up that loud?

You shook your head as you giggled to yourself at the fact that you’d been so obscenely desperate to hear him laugh.

But, his laugh. . . Exactly what you needed to keep calming down. . . That laugh. . . And the way his eyes would light up with it.

Oh, fuck. . .

His eyes.

His wonderful eyes. Amber-brown. The first thing you’d noticed about him. They were so kind and so open when he cared for someone he spoke to. . . Even sparkling sometimes when he’d smile. . .

And without warning, you could see it. Clear as day. A baby with Jake’s kind eyes.

A baby that was part of him. . .

You let yourself sit on that. Think about it. Just that. Not about all of the intricate, fine-tuned details. No, just thought about the simple fact that this baby was half Jake.

Half of someone who’d brought so much unadulterated joy to your life. If you were always honest with yourself, you knew he wasn’t what had caused you to become distracted, sad, and in your head. . . you’d done that to yourself. All he had done was be a listening ear. A helper. A lover. A friend. . .

He’d done nothing wrong. You knew this. And imagining a baby who could bring the same light to the world as him. . .Even if all the baby had were his eyes, that would be enough. But then there was his heart. The beautiful heart and passion his child would no doubt have. It would be inevitable. Especially being the child of you two. . . but his passion shining through a kid?

You could not get it out of your head. You didn’t want to. It was all so beautiful to imagine. . .You also didn’t want to rid the world of a gift that could be so wonderful as Jake Kiszka.

The little details could be worked out. You would work on yourself. You would try your best to be the best you could be. . .

You would. Had to do it for yourself and your baby.

Determined, you turned off your car. And when you went inside Planned Parenthood, you canceled your appointment. You tried your best to shut off your brain to any of its usual worrying for the sake of the life you now knew without a doubt you wanted to keep. Hold. Love.

And as you were driving home, the nerves were gone and replaced with relief. Your baby would be okay. You’d make damn sure of it.

When you took the final exit off the highway to reach the city streets that led to your apartment, you got logical again. Now, the logic didn’t worry you. It didn’t make you feel unsure. This logic felt safe. You were working things out– not just getting rid of something to temporarily patch up a hole. Yes, you were more than self-aware. You knew you did that shit.

It was what you’d done your whole life to feel safe. But it wasn’t what the baby did. It wasn’t what the baby needed. And now, the baby in your belly would also get what it needed.

As you rolled into your parking spot, you started searching the best apps to use and downloaded all of the most reliable trackers. The loading apps made you feel jittery with anxiety, but in a good way you’d never felt before.

Later on in your pregnancy, you knew it was possible you could end up regretting the choice to keep the kid. You’d done nothing to prepare for a child and the fear of being completely out of control was daunting. But that was what adoption was for.

You just couldn’t be the reason that the world lost such a precious piece of Jake. Because, even if you couldn’t keep the baby yourself, you needed to at least see such an inevitably beautiful person enter this world. And, you didn’t have to be out of control in all of this. You could keep your hands on it all. Stay aware and informed. . . Help the baby. . . Feel purpose. You could do something good and worthwhile.

You walked up the stairs to your building, watching your every step while you kept one firm hand on your lower tummy. The apps that had loaded were dying to be opened. But you were going to shower and start getting ready before you gave yourself that reward.

For the first time in your life, you had a shaky-ass, unsure plan. But it was oddly the first time in your life you felt like you could conquer your shit. You could take it by the horns and start working on it. For you. For your baby. The baby that motivated and inspired you so much already. . .It all felt so freeing.

You unlocked your front door, finding the place was still empty. Your shoulders relaxed as the day started draining from you. The past two weeks, honestly. . . You moved your shoulders a little to loosen the muscles from their pent-up tension, took deep breaths in and out, in and out. . .

You breathed a sigh of contentment, placing your delicate hand on where the baby grew.

And as you got into the shower, you realized something. . .

The persistent voice that always accompanied you, helping you feel less alone in your hurt. . . had been silenced. Was that okay? That it wasn’t there to guide you? Had you been able to turn it off?

You weren’t sure how to feel about it. But, as you kept glancing down at your slightly rounded tummy as you showered, you came to a clarifying thought.

You weren’t alone anymore. Didn’t have to be. Maybe the voice was no longer needed. Maybe this was the beginning of a massive change.

Giggling to yourself as you dried off, you thought to yourself.

Duh, it’s a massive change. The biggest. And one I’m ready to welcome.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When Elsie’s plane landed at the airport, Josh had already been at your place decorating for an hour or two. And as soon as she texted, he was gathering his things and giving you instructions on finishing up the place.

Then, he left to pick her up.

Finally.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he ended up leaving.

The thoughts that’d swarmed your head in such close proximity to him had been too much. It was weird being around him now, knowing who you were carrying. Josh being completely oblivious (and probably unapproving if he were to find out) caused you some incredible anxiety. While you’d come to the realization that there was no doubt you wanted to have the baby, the thought of people finding out was making your nerves short circuit.

Especially Josh. He was still the main person you didn’t want knowing of you and Jake. Same as always, you didn’t want him to feel betrayed, or like you’d let yourself be to Jake what Amelia had been to him (destroying his dreams for your gain). And now, you knew how much worse it could end up being when he found out about your child. You figured that he would feel like he’d been left totally in the dark. Which, he had been. . .but for good reason.

You just felt guilty over it.

Taking instructions from him on how to finish up some of the decorations, you hung the rest of the red and black streamers and some cute, eclectic garland between the streamers. Little fabric ghosts, attached to a string that he’d probably found at a Home Goods store. After that, per his wish, you shut all of the lights off and turned all of the twinkle lights on. Some red, some white. . . But so many of them. Dear God.

The lights were a good idea though, as they added the final touch to everything he’d done around the place. . .highlighting everything a very mystifying, spooky hue.

Once you completed those tasks, you made the red punch. Josh had already whipped up the orange punch and had it chilling in the fridge. When it looked ‘blood red’ enough (Josh’s words), you placed it in the fridge with the other bowl. Each bowl, shaped like a giant skeleton hand.

Does he just host it here because I have a massive fridge? You genuinely wondered.

On the shelf above the bowls, you saw the several hilariously made food items. He’d designed them carefully and specially to look like scary things, labeling each as its inspiration (Witch’s Fingers being the name of one item). It was something you’d see at a party for a child, but you weren’t surprised that Josh had found the idea amusing. Something you loved about Josh was the fact that he was a child at heart, while also showing the traits of an 80 year old man.

Crossing the living room to walk to your room, you admired the way he’d jazzed up the spacious apartment. It looked spooky and cute and fun. You knew people would love it. He always went all out and you enjoyed seeing what he decided to do each year.

What worried you, though, was the amount of orange solo cups that sat on your bar. It looked to be at least (probably more than) 50 cups. Maybe he’d just gotten that many for the people who wouldn’t reuse their cups. . .but the Sharpie sitting next to them begged to differ.

Why in the fuck hadn’t you put a limit on the number of people? Yeah, your apartment was roomier than some, but how were you going to fit that many goddamned people in your place?

There’d never been so many solo cups waiting. . . How many people were there going to be? And why the sudden change in numbers?

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was thirty minutes to party time when they got back.

You’d finished most of your makeup, having done it during the long time you’d waited on your sister’s arrival. When Elsie finally walked into your room, her foundation, blush, and contour were on, but nothing else.

“Bitch, we’ve gotta hurry,” she said, setting her bags down on your bed. “Do you have the costumes?”

You gave your false lashes one more swipe of mascara, pleased with how you looked.

Not half bad, you thought. You made a pout at yourself in the mirror; your red lipstick made your lips look damn good. The gloss you'd coated them with helped as well.

Kissable.

“Yes,” you answered, rising from the vanity to grab their hangers out of your closet. “We are never buying costumes on Etsy again, though. These ripped a hole in my bank account.”

“Oh, shut up, Little Miss ‘my grandparents pay for my rent’,” she sassed back, rolling her eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” you countered, annoyed with her. “They did the same damn thing for you.”

“You’re not wrong,” she agreed, a laugh in her voice. “But giving you shit is too fun. And also, you don’t have to travel all over the globe for your job, so. . . I bet your account still looks prettier than mine, even after this purchase.” She grabbed her little blue top and skirt from your waiting hand. “These are perfect though,” she turned the costume around, admiring. “Thanks, sissy.”

“Did you bring the white stockings?” You asked, taking off your sweats and changing from granny panties to a white, lacy thong to fit the mood.

“Duh,” she responded, going to retrieve them from her duffel, throwing your pair at you. They hit you on the head, as you were folding your sweats onto your bed.

“Elsie!” You yelped. “You little fuck.”

“Get over it. I’m sure you’ve done something to me recently to deserve it.”

When you looked back at her, to continue the jesting, she was in her light ensemble. She moved in front of the mirror, gawking. She twisted and turned to see every angle of the glorified lingerie. “Damn these are sexy,” she commented, impressed with the look.

Your eyes were big, noticing the same thing as her. They were hot, but. . . A lot of skin was going to be exposed. . .

“Short as hell,” you noted, observing the costume on your sister’s body. . . Her ass would be fully out if she bent the wrong way. But her boobs looked great– complimented by the cropped blouse, pushed up. She adjusted the little pink bow in her hair that’d come with the ‘fit. “And lots of skin.”

“Just like we wanted them,” she reminded you, going to get her makeup bag to finish her makeup at the vanity.

Yeah, we decided on these damned costumes when I was fucking Jake and had someone to look sexy for. . . Fuck. The thought of him seeing you tonight and not being able to react like he would have two months ago. . .it made your heart pinch sadly. It suddenly felt totally counterproductive to even dress cute.

Why would you want to do it now? The only person you wanted to impress would definitely not be looking your way. . . You had a terrible feeling that all night, you were going to feel like a clown. Ridiculous. Dressed up in a stupid, extremely revealing costume. Completely unseen by one pair of pretty brown eyes. . .

“Put your costume on!” Elsie ordered, her eyes pinned on you through the mirror as you stood there, behind her, lost in thought. “The party starts super fucking soon.”

You had to do this with her. If you backed out on your costume with Els, it would be a giant dick move. Coordinating costumes with her on Halloween had been a tradition for as long as you could remember.

It will be fun to do it with her. Just like always.

Resigning to putting on the tiny outfit, you went to take off your sweatshirt. But just as you gripped material at your hip to pull it up and off, you froze again.

Dammit. The tiny bump.

You hadn’t thought of her possibly seeing you—or it— as you changed. . . Should have done it before she got there. Would she even notice? Honestly, it just looked like you were bloated. It wasn’t super obvious what it was— not yet.

It’s okay. It’s fine. It’ll be okay.

So, you kept on with taking it off, throwing it to your bed to fold, turning around so you weren’t facing her in the process of getting changed. Just a safety precaution.

“Nice ass,” she giggled, snarky as usual before continuing her eyeliner.

But your mind went into hyperdrive. A recent event, coming to your mind at her words.

“That ass,” he’d said, his voice still low and sleepy. “Damn, baby.”

The way he’d looked. . . Stroking himself in bed as he’d watched you. . .

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

Naturally, you went to hold your tummy. Though, you dropped the hand when you heard your sister huff frustratedly. “Do I have to come over there and do it for you?”

You looked over your shoulder at her, narrowing your eyes and giving her the middle finger before finally putting on every piece of the ensemble.

You had to be careful with the top, which included its built-in push up bra. Your breasts had become much more sensitive than you were used to. Sometimes hurting to the touch. To your relief, the bra added just the right amount of pressure to them that it felt like they were being held well. . .

Just wouldn’t be able to put up with the feeling all night. . . You knew that they’d start to hurt from being pressed so tightly to something as the night wore on. After situating your boobs just so, you put on the last piece: A black platform heels, closed-toe, resembling a pair of traditional Mary Janes.

Smoothing your hands over the skirt, you noticed it was a little tight. . . But not bad. Not noticeable to any unsuspecting eye. Just like your previous thought, it could really just be passed off as period bloating. However, when you eventually checked over the outfit on yourself, in the mirror. . . You did notice something. A change.

The past couple of weeks had been a time of you not acknowledging any body changes. Only your belly, which you frequently, absentmindedly touched. . . But anything else that might feel or look abnormal? You’d avoided, if you could.

The boob pain had been too incessantly uncomfortable to ignore, having to flip and flop every which way in the night time so they wouldn’t feel like aching, ton-pound weights on your chest.

But you hadn’t looked at them. They truly looked bigger. You weren’t that far along. . . Were you? You didn’t understand all of the pregnancy math yet. You still hadn’t had the chance to delve into your new apps.

Whatever the case may be, they were definitely growing. Your veins in them, darker than normal. The way they looked swollen, full. . . damn.

Do they seriously start changing this soon? I don’t know. . ., you wondered silently, moving to the side to see how they were giving you fantastic cleavage at your deep, sweetheart neckline. Mentally, you made a note to check those apps to get some answers as soon as possible.

You went about your business, trying to distract yourself from the body changes you weren’t completely sure about . . .

As you were adjusting your own pink bow in your hair, you heard her wolf whistle.

“Dear God, sis,” Elsie commented. You looked down at her in the mirror, where she still sat at the vanity stool. Her face was almost completely finished. “What in the hell have you done to make your boobs look so fantastic? Please, tell me your ways.”

If only you fucking knew, you thought, fluffing your hair, and adjusting your outfit as much as you could, once more before eyeing her.

“Just on my period,” you lied, not ready to tell her. But . . .you kind of were. You wanted to tell someone and she was your person. When would you be able to finally break the news?

You pushed the thought away as she did the same as you with her outfit and put her own shoes on.

Hearing the sounds of people arriving, and Josh’s music starting, you gave her a look.

“You ready?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The party had been droning on for several minutes.

A lot of people had shown up. . . some you recognized from past parties, and others you’d never seen before. All you knew was there were definitely enough people for all of the cups.

You’d already taken your annual Halloween picture with Elsie, and now she was off with Josh, attached to his side and conversing with every person that he did.

Why couldn’t you have what they had? Why was everything in your life so goddamned complicated?

And where was Jake?

Your other two friends had arrived (surprisingly) on time, getting the party kicked off. They were now playing a small game of “mini beer pong” with two girls they’d probably met through an app. Maybe a festival, though? That was a possibility now. Weird.

Yawning, you made your way over to the punch and put some of the orange in a plastic cup. Before you took a sip, you smelled it, making sure it was uncontaminated with Josh’s liquor of choice. Knowing you were safe, you took a decently sized swig. And, thankfully, the taste didn’t make you want to hurl.

All of the little things that had been happening before you’d found out were all stark and apparent in their nature now. All of your “stress” symptoms had been signs of you growing a little life inside of you. From being sick, wanting to eat everything in sight, the sore boobs for the couple of weeks before you’d found out. . . and even the extreme sadness about Jake. Had that perhaps been the hormones, too?

Getting up on your tiptoes to peer over the people, punch bowls, and several types of alcohol on the counter, you once again searched for your roommate.

Where was he?

And, right as you’d pondered the question again, there he was. Opening and striding through the front door, already in his costume. . .and looking sexy as fucking hell.

Your eyes trailed his solid figure. . . From his black boots, black pants, loose white shirt (almost entirely unbuttoned, dear fuck), a few necklaces laying upon his defined chest. . .and all the way up to the dark red bandana that he’d tied around the top of his head, gold hooped earrings peeking out from his dark hair, flowing below the bandana.

A pirate.

Hot damn.

And even though it was dark, the insurmountable amount of twinkle lights Josh had perfectly hung illuminated his handsome face enough for you to see. . .

Had he started growing a mustache on their trip?

Fuck. Me.

You squirmed from where you were behind the counter, totally irritated with yourself over what you’d done in this very kitchen, two months ago. Even though it had been for his own good, you wished right now that you could take back time and hold off on doing it when you had. Because all you wanted to do in that moment was walk over to him and tell him all of the filthy thoughts that were clouding up your brain.

But. . . before they could get any dirtier, you saw the person he’d arrived with, walking in beautiful and majestic behind him.

Maya.

Also dressed as a pirate. Except her costume was one you’d probably see advertised as “Sexy Female Pirate” in a Spirit Halloween bag where Jake’s seemed to be a bunch of pieces of his own clothing that he’d pieced together to make the stunning look.

Thankfully from the waist down, you were out of sight behind the bar counter. So you were able to lay a gentle hand on your belly, a little more round after eating some of Josh’s finger foods. You realized that, apparently, holding your belly was a new go-to to gain peace in a situation.

Because, sad as you were over the woman he’d arrived with, you were able to ground yourself with the hand on your stomach.

This was going to happen anyway. . . Surely. You two weren’t meant for each other, and you were bound to see him with another woman again after you ended things with him. And you were not shocked at all that it was Maya with him tonight. Just as Elsie and Josh had been doing, they started strolling the room, talking to the other party-goers. His smile, so bright to lighten up that dark room. . . The occasional laugh he’d give in response to someone that you wished so badly to hear, but just watch instead . . .

You could do this. You could watch him from where you were. Even if she was with him every step of the way, you could admire him. Wistfully. Wantingly. Longingly. . .

But what you saw next was the worst thing you’d seen between them so far.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. When he wrapped an arm behind her. . . But what made your heart lull was seeing him give her ass a squeeze through the material of her (cheap nylon, off-the-costume-rack) pirate dress.

God, no. Unshed tears pricked your eyes. Your chest felt heavy.

Before you could watch any longer, you made your way over to the cabinet next to the oven. You’d hid your phone so as not to get it mixed up with any others. You’d assumed it was a risk when the multiple people filed in at the beginning of the party.

You averted your gaze from anywhere near where you’d last seen Jake. Then, found a place on the countertop to perch yourself, getting comfortable (and carefully situating your legs to not reveal anything).

Now was the perfect time to start perusing those apps. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

Elsie had migrated to be next to you for the latter portion of the evening, both of you feeling the hyperactivity of the crowd grating on your anxious nerves.

You’d sat, secluded for hours. Talked about nothing and everything. Shared TikToks. Laughed at ridiculous things that no one else would get. . .But time with her made you that much more ready to tell her of your predicament. Even if her advice pissed you off, you still felt like you needed it. If only to round out the massive, intricate equation your life had become. You could use her input as a multiple fucking choice answer choice.

When it had gotten long enough that she hadn’t seen Josh, she had to get her fix and he walked off to find him.

And you decided you were done sitting on the couch, crammed against the wall. You just wanted to go to sleep. You’d kept your phone on hand when you’d come to sit with her, and the time on your screen was reinforcing your want for your comfy bed. You’d been yawning for the past couple of hours off and on, and finally reached the point of your eyes closing where you sat at the back of the party.

For the past couple of weeks, you’d been going to sleep much, much earlier than 11 p.m.

After you’d spent a lot of time reading about the first trimester on those (extremely helpful) apps, you now knew the newfound tiredness was most likely due to a baby growing healthily inside of you, using your energy to thrive. Providing life for yourself and another was exhausting work.

You couldn’t find Elsie and Josh in the mass of people, so you just decided to excuse yourself quietly to bed. Sammy and Danny, the only ones to get a goodbye and goodnight from you as you quickly passed by them. You were not about to look for Jake.

Stevie meowed when you entered your room, as if greeting you. She’d stayed in your bedroom with her necessities so she wouldn’t get overly anxious with the crowds, since that was the last thing you wanted for her. You’d greeted her back as you shut the door behind you, almost falling asleep against the back of the door.

But your costume had become way too uncomfortable and constricting for that to be an option.

You started stripping yourself of it, sighing as your chest hit the cool air of your room. Then, you slipped back into your heavenly sweats. No bra of any kind constricting your chest. Praises fucking be. You felt soft and cozy in your baggy sweats and you could fall asleep right there. Standing up. In the middle of your room.

Though, your face was still heavy with makeup, and you weren’t going to sleep with that on your skin to possibly clog your pores. Another thing you’d learnt from your apps was that pregnant women easily broke out with hormonal acne, and you weren’t about to test any of the waters to give yourself more acne. You were already lacking enough self confidence, and you didn’t need to add a broken out face to the mix.

When you went to grab your makeup wipes from your vanity (no time for the whole face routine tonight– you were too tired), you noticed the package was empty. And right next to all of her makeup, still splayed out, was the used cloth.

Of course Elsie had used the last one. She owed you for that one. Especially for the timing. Right now was not the time. You were going to have to go back out into the crowd to get to the bathroom for your new package. Thus, getting overstimulated all over again when all you wanted was to crash hard in your bed.

But when you got to your bathroom, your search for makeup wipes came up dry. And then you remembered that your last trip to the store had been weeks ago. The same day where you left with two packages of tests triple bagged. And that day, by the time you got to the toiletries section, your brain had been infiltrated by the memory that got you where you were now. You hadn’t remembered to get a new pack of remover wipes.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, angry that you now had to use Micellar water and dirty a washcloth and . . .ugh.

By the time you’d spent forever doing that, you figured you might as well do your full nighttime routine on your face.

Twenty minutes later, you were leaving the bathroom, face feeling incredibly fresh. But the way the final step cooled your face, made you feel more awake than before. So, after tossing your hair into a messy bun, you slipped past the people who were still taking up space in your home, avoiding any and all eye contact, to get a cup of water, a Cosmic Brownie, and a bowl of pickles.

Just as you thought you’d figured out a way to carry it all to your room, you ended up dropping the box of brownies, each package falling out of the box, all over the floor (one didn’t sound like enough once you’d made it to the kitchen). The clatter of plastic made you want to cry, honestly. And a few tears hit your hand as you sat the pickles and water on the counter.

I just want to eat and go to sleep, you thought, getting on your hands and knees to pick up the brownies.

But before you could, a hand was stopping you, bending down to do it himself. Confused, you stood back up, not questioning the help in your state. And when you looked to see who the helper was, you bit your lip to try and keep the new tears at bay. Stupid hormones.

Your heart leapt at Jake. Pirate costume and all, on the floor, putting the last couple of packages back in the box.

When he stood up, his eyes were glassy like he’d been drinking. You gave them one glance and then looked at the box, not letting your eyes meet his.

He’d probably forget about this, you thought, a little sad by that. He probably doesn’t even want to be doing this right now and his drunkenness is making him move without thinking.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, going to grab the box from him. But he pulled it back so you couldn’t. You tried again, but he pressed it to his chest, out of your reach. “Give me the box?” You requested, in question. Your brow wrinkled, unsure why he was doing this.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice wavy, softly demanding.

. . .and slightly British? You would have laughed if circumstances were different.

Yeah, his voice definitely indicated he wasn’t sober.

But, you did as he asked, your craving made you follow his instructions without hesitation.

Mistake, mistake, mistake. Abort mission.

You hadn’t been given the opportunity to look into his eyes for so long. And doing it now made your airways constrict. The eyes that convinced you to turn around today. The same beautiful brown eyes you wanted your baby to have.

Wanting to ignore the way your heartbeat was literally washing through your ears, you tried to speak.

“Why?” You asked, your question weak, but voice clear of emotion. Thank God.

His gaze was open, eyes a little lost thanks to his inebriation. “You looked fucking beautiful tonight,” he lazed, tone serious. He glanced down at your body, just briefly. “Still do. Always do.”

Your breath went shallow at his words. He didn’t mean this. He was drunk. You could’ve sworn he hadn’t been looking at you. He wouldn’t; Maya had been with him all night. Right?

“Thanks,” you choked out. You averted your gaze from his again, your heart couldn’t take this. “Can I have my brownies now?”

You saw them move in your direction, and grasped the box as soon as it was in front of you. Gathering up the water, bowl, and box with much more ease this time. Strategy.

“D’you want my help?” he offered, voice still iffy, but tone sweet and sincere.

Shaking your head, you flashed your eyes at him once more. Just one more look.

“No, I can make it,” you affirmed, wanting to say the opposite. Yes, please. Stay with me. “But thank you.”

He mimicked your actions, shook his head as he furrowed his brow. “Yeah, yeah,” his eyes held yours. You couldn’t look away. He smiled shakily, as if telling a joke. “I’m drunk.”

You giggled in spite of it all. “I know.”

And then he was letting you move past him, his cologne coming off of him in the most delicious waves. . . fuck.

Before you could totally get away, though, he lightly grabbed your arm. You were stuck in a trance. His touch, burning, even through your sweatshirt. The way he smelled, exactly what your senses needed.

You peered up at him through your lashes, wondering. “What?”

He seemed to get lost in your stare for a second, forgetting what he wanted to say. Alcohol could do that to a person.

But then he was moving towards you. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. What was he. . .? You couldn’t move. Then, he was dipping his lips to be right above your ear. Holy fuck. More. His voice was low and raspy when he whispered. “Your tits looked fucking incredible tonight.” Heat flushed in your cheeks, all the way down to the pit of your stomach and to your throbbing heat. God. “That fuckin’ tiny excuse for a shirt barely held them in.”

God-fucking-damn.

You could feel your nipples hardening, to match the rest of your body. You could feel them tight and hard, begging for his touch. But he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. He didn’t want that.

He. Was. Drunk.

Gaining what bearings you could, still blushing, you gave him a small grin, eyes innocent and at his mercy. “Thanks, Jake.”

And then you were booking it out of that kitchen. Quickly as you could, to the safety of your room and the vibrator you kept in your nightstand.

In an embarrassing amount of time, you were reaching the peak you so desperately needed. . . Every quiver from the tiny instrument, his wet tongue. Your toes curled as you found release, moaning his name loudly, but against your pillow to muffle the sound.

Then you tucked it back in your nightstand, the food forgotten as you let yourself fall into a deep sleep, holding the soft bump of your belly.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i think "You're All I Need To Get By" is their song..... hm? do you think this baby might be the magic key? or do you think things are only going to get worse? 🤔🤔

also, who can guess what the girls were for Halloween? 🪓

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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milimeters-morales · 5 months

Text

So my thing with Hobie’s nicknames: I have Hobie call Lyla “Tinkerbell” or “Tink” bc she’s small, has a yellow glow, and has an attitude, so i’m probably just gonna have him base his names off of childrens’ story characters, like for example Jess would be “Kanga” and her unborn baby is “Roo”, Margo I haven’t decided yet since we don’t know much about her movie-self and Hobie wouldn’t have any character to reference bc of her technology, but from what I’ve seen she could have her nickname as something related to The Little Mermaid because while everyone is here in person, she’s in her own dimension in a life she doesn’t really enjoy, but i’m also hesitant to have him think “Cinderella” is a good name because cmon. Her parents argue a lot, and she does use being a vigilante as a form of escape, but that’s implying that they hate her and harm her, and that’s not something Hobie would say without 100% certainty. Maybe he’d just give her a non-character nickname, like Pixie (bc Pixelate, Pixie Dust, Pick-&-Choose, whatever). Okay this is getting long it’s continued under the cut.

I personally don’t like the Gwendy and Peter Pan nicknames he gave Gwen and Miles but i guess it’s cute, but i would’ve preferred something a bit more personal to Miles rather than just in relation to Gwen bc they feel less like their own people then, even tho Peter and Wendy were an adorable duo. I can see Gwen = Wendy bc she ran away from home to a “neverland” that was supposed to be a paradise basically but realizes she can’t stay, or if you take that “Gwen was going to be shot in the stomach” thing some people who worked on the movie said they got rid of and apply it to her “ghost, gwen stacy always falls, forever immortal and taking back control” thing and her relationship with death and the idea of Neverland having dead children so they are “immortal” and “never grow up” it sticks.

But (even if it’s teasing) calling Miles “Peter Pan” doesn’t even make sense because he didn’t lead her here, she led him to the Society (unknowingly). Like people want to shove “sunflower” and “flower” into everything involving Miles so badly and it feels EXTREMELY forced. I feel like Hobie would call him something else, and this is where the name “Bambi” could come in because while Miles hasn’t lost his mother or father, he’s still learning his place in the world while saving countless people now and in the future, and will eventually become a great stag, even if life wasn’t always kind to him. But again, I don’t think Hobie would do that 100% because he doesn’t really know Miles like that. Or, he could go for more recent nicknames and non-character names that are safer, like “Brave Little Toaster/Toaster” for obvious reasons, or “Spark/Bolt/Livewire” that don’t feel as child-like as “Bambi” or as forced as “Peter Pan”

I also have to take into account what things Hobie just might not have seen, because in the setting i’m talking about he’s not living in a houseboat, so he probably doesn’t have much time to see or learn about these fairytales/characters, and it’s based on chance on when he’d know about them. Because I also have to remember that his city is still highly policed and his people are forced to fit into the mold and comply to societal standards and whatnot, so even things as simple and enjoyable as short stories for kids would be heavily controlled. Libraries are fucked in his universe but they’re one of the only “safe” havens. I think it really adds to his attitude about his own life, how he’s much older than these friends despite being like 16-19, and how he feels the most responsible for them no matter how much he denies that and tries to get rid of that feeling. Calling them these nicknames gives him both the feeling of “haha, these little kids are the future and i’m an old man” and “i’m a little kid again!!”

that’s it :3

#to be clear this is all in my fic. so like it’s not really anything i’m applying to canon atsv hobie at all. lmao #me just ranting #that was the lost coherent post of the day people the pain is back and with a vengeance…..#miles morales #spiderman #spider man #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider punk #ghost spider #spidergwen #gwen stacy #m&m posts #not tagging the others sorry margo lyla jess and jess’s baby

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pokemonranch · 5 months

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I saw you were taking photo submissions? Well, I was doing some cleaning and found this old thing! If I remember correctly, my mom took this of me when we were out on a camping trip. This sweet little guy came right up to us, and the rest was history! Gigi may no longer be yellow and we may both be older, but he's still my little baby (Though he is a bit spoiled haha). We absolutely love your blog and all the cuties on it!

I hope Gigi knows that he looks absolutely adorable here, and I'm sure he looks even better as a Ninetales now! Shiny 'mons are either extremely elusive or they just... walk right up to people like it's the most casual thing in the world. You got very lucky anyways, and great picture!

#getting a lot of pictures today!!! love it #And thank you for the compliments! <3 #ask #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #rotomblr #pokemon rp #vulpix #poke pics #not my art #clay talks

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prince-kallisto · 9 days

Text

Location of the Princess Glow and Malleus’ ‘Resurrection’

After watching Fairy Gala, I found it very interesting that Crowley mentions he keeps the magestone controlling the school’s weather in the Mirror Chamber. We do not get to see where this is actually stored, but he keeps it here specifically for safekeeping, as there are many rules of who can be allowed in the Mirror Chamber and when.

But then it hit me- if Crowley has as much of a connection to Meleanor as it’s theorized…what if the infamously missing Princess Glow is in the Mirror Chamber? Or specifically, in its Mirror Chamber’s chandelier?

With the Meleanor in the Dark Mirror theory and the Crowley-Levan theory, I’ve seen it proposed that Meleanor’s missing Princess Glow is in the Mirror Chamber. We have little information about the Princess Glow, but the goal of attaining it was one of the many unfortunate reasons why Henrik wanted to lay siege on Briar Valley in the first place.

Apparently, it can grant wishes and heal wounds and sicknesses that would normally be incurable. It’s a very powerful magestone/crystal, and affixed to Meleanor’s staff. We have yet to see that actual power of the Princess Glow, but it must be an incredibly powerful artifact if this is indeed the case.

This is one event that has been consistent through all mediums of TWST (game, manga, novel): The “heart” of the chandelier in the school’s cafeteria breaking. It is THE event forcing Yuu, Deuce, and Ace (then Grim), to go to the abandoned mine to fetch a new magestone by the order of Crowley. It is also where the mysterious first Overblot of the game appears, and the one we’ve had the least answers to. This Dwarf Miner phantom is also where Grim gets his first taste of a blot crystal 👀 However, it also forces all four of them to work together in a common goal, something Crowley remarks as a rarity.

What I mean to say is that the chandelier is the “core” setting up A LOT of concepts in the game. Within all three mediums of TWST, it’s not unusual for storyplots to be tweaked or outright removed. But the chandelier breaking is consistent plot in all three:

The game has Ace, Deuce, and Grim accidentally breaking the chandelier through a fight, an event infamously known throughout the school with a rumor of “stupid freshmen” breaking the extremely expensive chandelier on their first day. Crowley specifies how one-of-a-kind this chandelier is, its light meant to burn for *eternity.* An interesting detail 👀

In the manga, this is a scene that’s condensed for smoother storytelling and less panels, but Ace, Deuce, and Grim set the Queen of Hearts on fire, and as punishment, Crowley sends us to the mines to get a magestone for the chandelier. Here, apparently the chandelier has been slowly dying out, which is very different from the game- but I think the fact that the “heart” of the chandelier slowly dying could be a relevant metaphor as well 👀

The novel sticks much more closely to the game, where Deuce, Ace, and Grim break the chandelier, breaking the gemstone fueling it. The novel has incredible details regarding the gemstone itself and Crowley’s reactions to it.

HOWEVER! I’d like to mention several caveats to this, just because I’m still very confused about it haha 🤣 Meleanor’s staff has very similar shape language to the fountain below. But, when it’s night, the cafeteria chandelier that serves as the catalyst to the prologue, the yellow light turns green. The shape and color of this chandelier looks similar to the Princess Glow, doesn’t it? Almost like it’s suggesting where it is.

But in the infamous Malleus artwork, there’s clearly a light coming from above that’s shining down onto his chest. However, the position of the light seems to suggest it’s coming from above? It’s coming from the ceiling somewhere though…the light is also here with all the dorm leaders, mirror, and a raven with a key, the light is also present here and coming from above and shining on Malleus.

I wondered if the light was coming from the Dark Mirror itself, but the light overlays the mirror in the work. HOWEVER, the in-game scene in the prologue seems to suggest the light being from Mirror. so…I’m not really surely where this light is coming from NAHXJD 🤣 But considering how it’s been a consistent part in promotional art of the game, there must be great importance to this light.

I also checked in-game assets that @alchemivich has found, and the chandelier in the Mirror Chamber is remarkably detailed and beautiful, and we can see better how the light shines on it in the game. It resembles flowers, doesn’t it? A proud, beautiful flower of evil…?

Anyway, as I’m sure that you’ve guessed by now, the reason I think the Princess Glow is somewhere in the Mirror Chamber is because of this mysterious light. Henrick says he saw “the light of the Princess Glow,” and knew Meleanor had it in her staff. And in all these images I’ve shown above, in the incredibly mysterious prologue and promotional art, there’s always this ray of light shining down over the *Dark Mirror*

This theory depends heavily on the concept of Meleanor being in the Dark Mirror, of course. The Princess Glow is said to cause miracles…and could the miracle include a very slow yet sure resurrection from the dead…?

And speaking of resurrection, TWST is very fond of using that piece of promotional art of Malleus rising from the coffin. It’s used in A LOT of trailers of all kinds. Many have pointed out that this adds a lot to Malleus’ heavy biblical symbolism surrounding him. But @/hanafubukki and @/moonlightequin1 mentioned this artwork to me, of the six coffins in the background and Malleus rising from the 7th one. In the recent soundtrack teaser, there’s this mysterious new scene of the coffins rising…but only 6 of them. The 7th is missing, which may be the coffin Malleus is rising from.

But then it hit me. For a long time now, I’ve had a bad feeling about Malleus’ fate in book 7. I’m not sure- but I feel like Book 7 won’t have the traditional “closure” that most of the Books do? And then I remembered: in the Book 7 trailer, there’s a split-second shot where NRC’s coffin gates are hidden in the background of the dark abyss Malleus is trapped in. Why are these coffins relevant to him specifically? 👀

Unless…remember how Book 7 says that Malleus’ barrier and sleeping spell can only be broken in two ways: either he puts down the barrier himself, or he “disappears” in the process of forcibly removing the spell. If Malleus truly reaches a bad ending…would his rising from the coffin be taken more literally? The light of the Princess Glow can cause miracles, and I’m sure TWST wouldn’t kill off one of the students- especially Malleus. STYX and Ortho have all agreed that the best and only course of action to take it to try and convince Malleus to put down the barrier himself- and I fully agree that the other students, especially Yuu & crew, have no intentions of genuinely hurting him. But something feels off to me, and I don’t know what it is! >_>

I mean, so far we haven’t seen the other students suffer from terrible effects from their own blot afterwards. Idia was surrounded by heaps of blot, but his own curse that consumes blot may have helped on that manner. Malleus however, essentially has an infinite cycling supply of magic since he can feed of the nature of the world, so his barrier keeps expanding without him running out of magic. will this affect somehow? 😭

He DID get that weird glitch that only Yuu has had in his fight against Ortho. It’s been brought up time and time again of how fatal blot can be, literally consuming the Overblotted mage. We have yet to see this consequence in action, so I wonder if Malleus would be the first…? Back to the trailer, he is in a dark abyss, before getting trapped in a cage of his own thorns (and with the NRC coffins in the background). Hana also mentioned to me that this may be where “true loves kiss” comes around again with Malleus- which I also think connects to the “Sleeping Death” from both Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Crowley has been established to be the one in control of the coffins, and the one who unlocks them. Was Malleus put in a coffin for his own safety or “resurrection” in Book 8???????? Why is one coffin missing in the soundtrack teaser???????? Why is he in the coffin I NEED ANSWERS AUGHH

I don’t know, I feel like I wrote all of this leading to no where because I undermined my own theory several times BAJXJD 🤣 It’s all just me desperately reaching and vaguely connecting information, but I just have that *feeing* 🤣🤣 I still can’t figure out where the prologue is going with all this >_> In a different theory, someone suggested to me another possibility for the Princess Glow that I recommend 🫶

#this is a little incoherent and a long ramble I apologize IM SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE ARGHHH #twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst princess glow #twst dark mirror #twst meleanor #kallistopost

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