“But Anon! Eating all that junk food can’t be healthy for the baby! Please, allow me to cook your meals, as I should.” Genos, your boyfriend, said worryingly as he helped you ascend the stairs to get to your second floor apartment, trying to get your fast food burger away from you.

“Please, Anon?” He asked again, his hand on the small of your back, helping you with each step. You are currently seven months pregnant, and Genos is the father. He means well, but is a little too overprotective of you. This is all new to him, and you too.