#I had been talking about starting a new character
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"Work Break Seduction."
ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+
WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.
both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!
Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.
Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.
A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.
The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.
This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.
You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.
You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.
The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.
Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?
He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."
He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."
You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.
You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.
How the fuck did he know?
"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.
"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.
At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.
"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.
Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.
You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."
"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.
When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.
You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.
Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.
It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.
His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.
When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.
You're sure. You want this. You want him.
Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.
He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.
You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.
Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 
You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.
Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.
He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.
He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.
He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."
"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.
"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.
He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.
Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."
He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.
"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.
You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.
The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"
Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.
He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.
He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.
Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.
And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.
He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.
The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.
He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.
"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."
You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."
💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶
#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#niki smut#niki x reader#enhypen fanfic#niki hard hours#niki hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#niki fanfic
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Dude here is the assignment I posted:
The creative work that I have chosen to give a mini TEDx talk today is the Horizon series video games. This is limited as of right now to 2 main games, Horizon Zero Dawn and Horizon Forbidden West with a third installation currently in production. Each game has an additional story that can be purchased and downloaded, Horizon Zero Dawn: Frozen Wilds and Horizon Forbidden West: Burning Shores. All 4 of these are connected in one plotline, each DLC being a segway into the next game (there is an additional VR game that has nothing to do with the plot, and also a Lego Adventures spin off that is quite fun, but again no additional plot). This is not a widespread media, so I need to dive deep for a minute to explain the series.
The Horizon series is an open world dystopian game that explores the western half of America 1,000 years in the future. The narrative is through the classic coming of age trope through 19-year-old Aloy, who is trying to find who her mother is. What starts off as a predictable story line comes screeching to a halt midway through the game and suddenly Aloy is the only hope for human life to continue on earth. The discoveries she makes turn her world upside down, almost literally, and in a race against the clock she gathers allies to fight a rouge AI who wants nothing more than humans wiped off the face of the planet.
And that’s just the first game. I won’t go on and on, I’ll probably be docked points if I do. But that gives you an idea as to what this is about.
I chose this work because since the first game released in 2017 I have been obsessed with this series. It had become a catalyst for me for so many things. I did my first advanced cosplay as Aloy, which made me learn new skills in order to make her outfit and bow. I’ve written and read so many fan works from this series, also seen a lot of fanart. I’ve joined communities, taken part in gifting fanfics, exchanged cosplay tips, made friends, all because of this series. And now I want to help create AI systems and video games inspired by this series, hence why I’m even here in the first place-to get my degree! How could I not choose it?
Aloy herself is an interesting character study. She is driven, brave, sarcastic, authentically herself and genuinely kind. We watch her experience several stages of grief and depths joy which adds to the complexity of her character.
I have over 800 hours clocked in with all 4 games total, yet there is something new each time I play. The world building of this game is incredible. I don’t think I’ll ever see it all. There is so much in the story that connects to the humanities, I could go on for hours. This work is definitely one for the books.
References
Guerrilla Games. (2017). Horizon Zero Dawn. [PlayStation 4]. Sony Interactive Entertainment.
Guerrilla Games. (2022). Horizon Forbidden West. [PlayStation 5]. Sony Interactive Entertainment.
Horizon Zero Dawn is the first game I've played where I feel like the main character is actually as interested in learning about the world as I am. Aloy reads the flavor text.
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the proposal ⟢ FA14
⟢ part four of this time, i’ll love you much better
𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part five ☽
PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader
SUMMARY: the twins thought that they have all the time in the world to devise a plan on how they would get you and fernando back together. that is until fernando had told the news to jullianna, prompting to put their plan in motion.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, named character (except for reader), parent trap inspired fic + plot, google translated spanish and french, single dad!nando and single mom!reader (for the time being), evil fiancé, twin switching, inaccuracies with information, and minor typographical errors.
WORD COUNT: 5.1k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: part four of the series!! i have a lot of things going on, so that’s why it always takes a long time for me to update my series/post new parts to fics. as always, this series is open for taglist, so just comment or message me if you wanted to be tagged, and your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated, i hope you’ll enjoy this new part of the series! :)
The sunlight filtered through the curtains as Jullianna pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail, already dressed in a crisp white tennis outfit. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of the polo shirt she wore. Jullianna’s focus, however, was more on the bubbling frustration in her chest. It was not just about the day ahead or the tennis session with Fernando—it was about everything Sofia had dropped into her lap without any warning.
As if on cue, Jullianna’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. She picked it up and saw Sofia’s caller ID flashed on the screen. Narrowing her eyes, she swiped to answer, voice immediately sharp.
“Well, it’s about damn time,” Jullianna began, tone clipped. “I’ve been waiting for you to call, and now you finally do.”
Sofia’s tone was light, almost too casual. “Why good morning to you too, Disney princess. How’s it going?”
“How’s it going? How’s it going?” Jullianna repeated incredulously. “Comment ça va? Vraiment? Tu es sérieusement en train de te moquer de moi?! Sofia, do you have any idea of what you’ve put me through?”
There was a pause on the other end. “What are you even talking about? You know how I can’t understand any of what you’re saying, right?”
“Oh don’t you play innocent with me,” Jullianna snapped. “Karting, Sofia. Karting! You didn’t even bother to tell me how to drive the freaking damn thing! I had to watch youtube videos just to figure out what I was supposed to do. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”
Sofia chuckled nervously. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would be a big deal, papá would’ve helped you.”
“He did,” Jullianna admitted begrudgingly. “But that’s not the point! You could’ve warned me!”
“Fine, I’ll make it up to you,” Sofia said, tone placating. “But seriously, Jules, it’s only karting. You survived, right?”
“Barely,” Jullianna muttered, crossing her arms. “And you’re lucky I did, because I would’ve switched back and made you deal with the mess.”
The line went quiet for a moment, and then Sofia’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Jules. I didn’t really mean to make things harder for you. I’ll give you all the details next time, okay?”
Jullianna exhaled, some of her frustration easing. “Fine. Alright. But that’s not all we need to talk about.”
“Oh?” Sofia sounded wary. “What now?”
“Stephanie.”
“Stepha-who now?”
“Exactly,” Jullianna said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “She’s some woman papá had apparently been seeing, and she keeps on coming over to the house like she owns the place. I had to deal with her the other day, and let me tell you, she’s awful.”
Sofia’s voice hardened. “I haven’t heard of her before. When did this start?”
“Eh, probably while we're at camp,” Jullianna said bitterly. “Alejandra told me this woman had been coming around, and from what I’ve seen, she’s trouble. Fake, loud, annoying—you name it, she got it. The worst part? Papá seems completely oblivious to it.”
“Well that doesn’t sound good,” Sofia said. “Keep an eye on that woman. If she’s really as bad as you say, we’ll figure something out. But don’t let that woman get to you, okay? She’s not worth your energy.”
“Easier said than done,” Jullianna muttered.
The twins were so engrossed in their conversation that Jullianna barely registered Fernando calling out for her downstairs. “Sofia! ¡Vamos! It’s time to go!
Jullianna jumped up, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got to go, papá’s waiting for me. We’re going to play a few rounds of tennis.”
“Alrighty. Good luck, Sofia,” Sofia teased.
“Oh shut up.” Jullianna rolled her eyes.
“But seriously though, keep me updated about Stanley.”
“Fia, it’s Stephanie,” Jullianna replied, and Sofia just blew raspberries at her. “And will do. Talk to you later, ugly.”
“Hey! We look just th—” Jullianna ended the call before Sofia could even respond.
Jullianna stuffed her phone into the tennis bag and grabbed Sofia’s tennis racket from where it leaned against the wall, and headed downstairs. Fernando was waiting by the front door, dressed in an equally sporty outfit like Jullianna and holding his own tennis racket.
“Finally,” he said with a smile. “You ready?”
Jullianna nodded with a smile. “Ready.”
The sun was high overhead when Jullianna and Fernando stepped onto the private tennis court—air was warm but pleasant, with a light breeze that rustled the nearby trees. Jullianna adjusted the grip on the racket, movements fluid and confident. Playing tennis was her forté, and it was surely worlds away from the stress and confusion of karting or dealing with unwelcome houseguests like Stephanie.
Fernando took his place on the opposite side of the court, bouncing the tennis ball a couple of times before looking up at Jullianna with a grin. “You ready, chiquita?”
Jullianna smirked. “Yup!”
Fernando laughed, tossing the ball into the and served with precision. The ball zipped over the net, and Jullianna moved quickly, her racket connecting with a satisfying thwack! as she returned the shot.
The rally began, and for the first few minutes, the only sounds were the rhythmic hits of the ball against the racket, quick and hurried footsteps against the clay surface, and the occasional grunt of effort. Jullianna found herself smiling as she played, thoughts drifting briefly to when her and Sofia had shared a match back at camp walden. It was an intense match, filled with playful trash-talking and endless determination to outdo each other.
But then, Fernando broke the silence, tone casual yet curious. “So,” he began, returning a particularly fast shot, “what do you think of Stephanie?”
Jullianna hesitated, her focus briefly faltering before she sent the ball back over the net. “Stephanie?” she repeated, trying to buy herself some time.
“Yes, Stephanie,” Fernando said, voice light but persistent. “You’ve spent some time with her now. I just want to know what you think of her.”
Jullianna tightened her grip on the racket, her mind racing. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth—that she finds Stephanie insufferable, fake, and most certainly not the right woman for Fernando. Instead, she decided to tread carefully, masking her irritation with forced politeness.
“Well,” she began, returning another shot, “she’s…very put-together. Always dressed nicely, very stylish.” she paused, muttering just loudly enough for herself, not my style, though. Mamá’s much better.
Fernando chuckled, clearly amused by Jullianna’s side comment. “So, you think she’s stylish. That’s good to hear, and it seems like you two are getting along.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jullianna murmured, keeping her tone neutral. She didn’t elaborate further, focusing instead on the ball.
Just when Jullianna thought that the conversation about Stephanie is done, turns out that it’s not. Fernando wasn’t done. As the rally continued, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious.
“Sofia,” Fernando said, eyes following the ball as it sailed over the net, “I’ve been thinking about the future, and you know that I’m not getting any younger. Sooner or later I’m about to retire soon from Formula 1, and I want to know what you think about Stephanie joining the family.”
Jullianna froze for a split second, the racket nearly slipping from her hands. The words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable. She knew exactly what he meant, but she decided to play dumb, her voice laced with forced confusion.
“Joining the family? What do you mean, papá? Are you planning to adopt her or something?” Jullianna said jokingly.
Fernando let out a hearty laugh, clearly amused by Jullianna’s sarcasm. “No, chiquita. Not adoption.” he hesitated for a moment before continuing, tone filled with quiet excitement. “What I mean is that I proposed to her.”
The words hit Jullianna like a freight train. For a brief moment, she stood frozen in place, staring at her father as if she had not heard him correctly. Then, as the reality of his statement sank in, something inside her snapped. Jullianna’s next hit was ferocious, with the ball rocketing past Fernando so fast that he barely had time to react. He turned to watch it bounce out of bounds, a look of surprise on his face.
“Wow,” Fernando said with a laugh, jogging to retrieve the ball. “That was quite the shot, eh?”
But Jullianna was not done. Her hits became more aggressive, each one more powerful than the last. She was not just playing tennis anymore, she was channeling all of her anger and frustration into every swing. Fernando was struggling to keep up, missing shot after shot as the intensity of the game escalated.
“Sofia, mi vida,” he called out, tone now tinged with concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Jullianna didn’t answer, her jaw clenched, and eyes burning with a mix of anger and betrayal. Finally, after one last blistering shot that Fernando couldn’t even attempt to return, she threw the racket with force—destroying it in the process and turned on her heel.
“Sofia!” Fernando called after her, voice filled with confusion as to why his daughter was acting up. “Where are you going?”
But Jullianna didn’t look back. She walked briskly off the court, chest heaving with unspoken words, and tears of frustration stinging her eyes. When Jullianna reached the front door of the house—still angry and frustrated, she grabbed the handle and turned it open, but in her haste and anger, she twisted it the wrong way. The door didn’t budge.
“¡Por favor!” she hissed, shaking the handle violently.
When it still refused to open, Jullianna growled in frustration, yanking the door with all her strength. Finally, it gave way, and she stumbled inside, muttering to herself. She glanced at the door handle, relieved to see it hadn’t broken. Once inside, she marched into the living room, pacing back and forth, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor.
“Comment peut-il penser que c’est une bonne idée?” she muttered, throwing her hands in the air. “Who even is she? Elle est insupportable!”
Jullianna’s rant alternated between languages—English, French, and Spanish, as her thoughts tumbled out uncontrollably. “He proposed? To her? ¡Dios mío, papá, estás loco!”
She stopped pacing momentarily, pressing her hands to her forehead. “This is not happening. This cannot be happening. I can’t handle this alone, I’m only one kid.”
Lost in her tirade, Alejandra peeks around the corner of the armchair she’s been sitting in with a cup of coffee in her hands. Alejandra initially assumed Sofia was in one of her usual moods, but the erratic pacing and the odd blend of languages caught Alejandra’s attention.
When Jullianna finally turned around, Alejandra cleared her throat gently. “¿Tienes algo que quieras compartir con la clase, mi chica?”
Jullianna froze mid-step, head snapping up—to which she immediately regretted because of the strain of her action. Her eyes widened in shock, the usually composed façade already slipping. Her heart was racing so fast, and quickly straightened her posture, smoothing her tennis skirt and forcing a smile.
“Alejandra! I didn’t see you there, you gave me a fright!” she said, tone overly bright.
Alejandra sat her coffee cup down at the side table, her eyes narrowing slightly as she stood up from the armchair and slowly approached Jullianna.
“You didn’t see me? Gave you a fright? I’ve been sitting here the whole time, chica. You were so lost in your own thoughts, or rather, in frustration, that you didn’t notice.” Alejandra folded her arms, studying Jullianna closely. “¿Qué está pasando? En serio.”
“Nothing, I swear!” Jullianna replied too quickly, smile tightening. “Just…a lot on my mind lately.”
Alejandra tilted her head, gaze sharpening. “¿Seguro que no hay nada de lo que quieras hablarme?” she asked for the second time. “You’ve been acting strange, mi niña.”
“Strange?” Jullianna echoed nervously, the forced smile on her face faltering. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Alejandra took a step closer, expression skeptical. “Sí, extraño. For one, you’re acting too proper—using expressions like you gave me a fright, the way you eat—you barely touch your food now, and even the way you speak sometimes, it’s different. I didn’t even know you speak French.”
Jullianna opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She tried to come up with some silly excuse, anything to divert Alejandra’s growing suspicion, but her mind went completely blank.
“Alejandra,” she trailed off, “I changed a lot over the summer, that’s all.”
Alejandra’s gaze softened, though her tone remained firm. “Si no lo supiera, diría que es casi como si estuvieras…” she paused for a little bit, “Ay dios mío, no importa, eso es demasiado imposible.”
Jullianna hesitated, the weight of the secret she had been carrying threatening to crush her. “Almost as if I were who, Alejandra?”
“Nadie, nadie. Chica tonta, olvida que lo mencioné.” Alejandra chuckled. “Why don’t I make your favorite food, huh? I think that tennis session with your papá had made you hungry.”
Finally, Jullianna sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She couldn’t take it any longer, so she’ll take the chance now. “¿Casi como si fuera Jullianna?”
Alejandra’s eyes widened. “What?” her breath hitched. “You know about Jullianna?”
“I am Jullianna.” Jullianna breathed out.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Alejandra stared at her, mouth opening and closing as she’s trying to process what was happening. Then, tears welled up in Alejandra’s eyes.
“¿De verdad eres Jullianna?” Alejandra asked, voice trembling.
Jullianna nodded, her own eyes glistening. “Yes, it’s me.”
Alejandra’s hands flew to her mouth as a sob escaped her. “¡Mi niña!” she cried, rushing forward to embrace Jullianna.
The hug was tight, almost crushing, but Jullianna didn’t mind. She wrapped her arms around Alejandra, feeling an unexpected wave of comfort.
“No puedo creerlo!” Alejandra said through her tears. “The last time I saw and held you, you were just a baby—barely a year old. You and your mother left for France after the divorce. I thought that I would never see you again.”
Jullianna blinked back tears. “I’ve missed you too, Alejandra.”
Alejandra pulled back slightly, cupping Jullianna’s face in her hands. “¡Oh, mírate!” she said, voice filled with awe. “All grown up, but still the same little girl that I used to hold in my arms. But why are you here in Spain? Where is Sofí?”
Jullianna hesitated, unsure how much to more of her and Sofia’s plan she could reveal. “It’s…complicated,” she said finally.
Alejandra nodded, sensing that Jullianna wasn’t ready to share everything just yet. “Alright,” she said gently. “But you have to be careful, mi niña. If your papá finds out—”
“I know,” Jullianna interrupted, voice firm. “That’s why I need you to keep this between us. Please, Alejandra.”
“Of course,” Alejandra nodded. “Haría cualquier cosa por ti.”
Fernando stepped inside of the house, chest heaving as he called out, “Sofia! ¿Dónde estás?” his voice echoed through the house with urgency.
The sounds of Fernando’s footsteps grew louder as he entered the living room, and Jullianna stiffened, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. Alejandra had sensed the tension, so she placed a comforting hand on Jullianna’s shoulder.
“Está bien,” Alejandra whispered gently. “I’ll leave you two to talk, I’ll be at the kitchen and prepare you some snacks.”
Jullianna nodded, watching as Alejandra quietly exited the living room and headed towards the kitchen. She barely had a moment to collect her thoughts before Fernando appeared in the doorway of the living room, looking left and right for Jullianna. When he saw her, he paused, hands on his hips, exhaling deeply as though trying to steady himself.
“Sofí,” he said softly, tone coaxing. “Come, sit with me, princesa.” Fernando gestured to the couch.
She hesitated but eventually walked over and perched on the edge of the couch, arms crossed defensively over her chest. Jullianna’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor, refusing to meet her father’s eyes.
Fernando sat beside her, leaving a careful distance between them. “Why did you run off like that mi vida?” he asked, voice gentler now.
Jullianna did not respond, jaw tightening.
“Sofía,” Fernando pressed, leaning forward slightly. “I proposed to Stephanie the other night. It was a very special moment for us—”
“Stop. I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jullianna cut in sharply, standing abruptly. The words struck a huge nerve within her, and she could not hold back any longer. “Just stop, papá, please.”
Fernando blinked, surprised by her sudden outburst. “¿Qué te pasa? Why are you acting like this?”
Jullianna turned to face Fernando, eyes blazing with nothing but anger. “Because it is outrageous!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re marrying her? That woman? Marrying Stephanie?”
He frowned. “And what is so outrageous about that?”
“Oh my god, papá! That woman’s practically young enough to be my sister!” Jullianna shot back, pacing back and forth as her emotions spilled over. “Do you not see how absurd this is? All of it!”
“I never knew you would be reacting like this,” Fernando stood, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Sofía, calm down, por favor. There’s no need to—”
“Je suis calme!” Jullianna shouted like a maniac, clearly not calm at all. She began to switch to French again without even realizing it, her words tumbling out in a torrent. “Comment peux-tu faire ça? As-tu même pensé à ce que cela signifierait pour nous? C’est insensé! Je ne peux pas croire que tu ferais ça. Elle n’est pas la bonne pour toi, papa. Pas du tout!”
Fernando furrowed his eyebrows, stepping in closer towards Jullianna. “What…French? Desde cuándo hablas francés?”
Jullianna stopped pacing, momentarily caught off guard. “I-I um, uh, learned it at camp,” she said quickly, brushing past the question. “But that’s not the point!”
She faced Fernando. Taking a deep breath, she began, voice softening slightly. “I’m sorry for my outburst,” she said, brushing her hair back from her face. “But we need to talk about this rationally.”
Fernando nodded, motioning for her to sit again, but Jullianna preferred standing. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Let’s talk. But in a language we can both understand, por favor mi vida.”
He sighed, patience already visibly thinning. “Sofía, I don’t understand why this is upsetting you so much. Stephanie has been kind to you, hasn’t she? She’s made every effort to—”
“Kind?” Jullianna scoffed, cutting him off. “That’s not the issue, papá. This isn’t about her being nice, this is about you thinking you can just bring someone into our lives and marry them without even considering how it affects everything!”
Feenando’s brows furrowed deeply. “I have considered it. Stephanie is someone I care about, and I thought you would—”
“Well you thought wrong!” Jullianna interrupted, voice rising again. She felt the heat of tears threatening to spill but blinked them back furiously. “You can’t do this, papa. You can’t marry her—or anyone else! It will ruin everything!”
He opened his mouth to respond, but before Fernando could even say a word, Jullianna already turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor.
“Sofía!” Fernando called after her, voice tinged with frustration and confusion. But she didn’t stop despite how many times Fernando called out for her.
Jullianna slumped into the St. Anthony’s face-to-face swing, letting her head fall back against the smooth wood. She exhaled sharply, crossing her arms over her chest, still reeling from what she had just learned. Fernando had proposed to Stephanie. Proposed. The word itself made her stomach churn.
This was worse than she and Sofia had imagined. They had time, or so they thought. But now, with a ring on Stephanie’s finger, the entire course of action had been changed—everything was moving too fast. Jullianna and Sofia had to quickly put their plan into motion if they even want to stop this wedding from happening, they need to act now. But there was only one viable solution: they had to get you and Fernando back together.
Jullianna was deep in thought, brainstorming ways to subtly, but not-so-subtly, bring you to Spain or maybe one of his races so that she and Sofia can just push you both back towards each other, when a sudden knock against the wooden frame of the swing had startled Jullianna. Her head snapped up, and saw Stephanie.
“Mind if I join you?” Stephanie asked, voice light and airy, as if she had just wandered into the garden without a care in the world.
Before Jullianna could even answer, Stephanie lowered herself onto the vacant seat of the swing, facing her directly. Jullianna barely stopped herself from grimacing, just looking at Stephanie made her want to barf.
Stephanie clasped her hands together, tilting her head slightly. “I can imagine how surprised you must have been by the engagement news.”
Jullianna forced a tight-lipped smile, words laced with passive aggression. “Oh, shock doesn’t even begin to cover it, honestly.”
Stephanie just chuckled, completely oblivious to the sharp edge in Jullianna’s tone. She relaxed herself on the seat, movements elegant and poised, as if this were just another casual afternoon chat. Forcing herself not to groan, Jullianna braced herself for whatever nonsense Stephanie was about to spew.
“You know,” Stephanie began, leaning slightly forward, “eleven is such a very wonderful age.”
Jullianna arched an eyebrow. What in the actual world does that have to do with any of this?
Stephanie smiled wistfully, as if she was reminiscing about something so precious. “When I was eleven, I had my first beau.” She let out a soft laugh, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.
“It was the first time I really started to feel like a woman.” she sighed dramatically. “That’s when I realized love was this fantastic, exhilarating mystery, one that takes a man and a woman on the most magical journey.”
Jullianna’s hand was tightly gripping the armrest of the swing, jaw now clenched, and resisting the great force of rolling her eyes. Oh, for the love of all things holy. She kept her expression neutral, pretending to listen, but internally, Jullianna was already pulling her hair out and screaming.
Stephanie continued, completely unaware of Jullianna’s growing irritation. “And believe it or not, you’ll understand that feeling soon,” she said with a knowing smile.
Jullianna just stared at Stephanie, fingers curled slightly now against her arms. She was not sure what was more annoying—Stephanie’s patronizing tone, or the fact that she spoke as if she had somehow unlocked the secrets of the universe. She certainly did not want to sit there, listening to this woman yap on about love like she was some kind of modern day Aristotle.
Before Stephanie could continue her sickly sweet monologue about love and magical journeys, Jullianna lifted a hand slightly, cutting Stephanie off.
“You know, I don’t want to sound all jerky or anything, because, from what I can tell, you’re trying really hard to be all mushy and sentimental.” she tilted her head slightly, letting her eyes linger on Stephanie’s with something close to amusement. “And I think I finally got it.”
Stephanie blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Get what, exactly?”
Jullianna leaned forward slightly, lips curling into a knowing smile. “What my papá sees in you.” she continued, voice still laced with that same passive aggressiveness, but now there was something else woven into it—a challenge. “You’re a beautiful woman. Sexy, even, and my papá? Well, he’s only human, after all.”
Stephanie’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out just yet. Jullianna’s smile widened just a little, though her eyes were sharp.
“But if you ask me, marriage is supposed to be based on something more, don’t you agree?” Jullianna let the question hang in the air for a moment before her smile turned almost innocent. “Something more than just…fornication. If you don’t know what fornication is, it means sex.”
Stephanie’s entire expression shifted. Gone was the light, airy persona. Her posture stiffened just slightly, and the sweetness in her eyes dimmed, now replaced with something sharper, something calculated. Jullianna didn’t flinch though, in fact, she was thoroughly enjoying every bit of it.
She smiled, but it was a whole lot different now. “Oh boy, your papá really underestimates you, doesn’t he?”
Jullianna let out a small, breathy chuckle. “Oh?” she mused, cocking her head slightly, as if intrigued. “And you don’t?”
Stephanie studied her closely, lips still curved, but her eyes darkened. Jullianna could feel it now—she was starting to get on Stephanie’s nerves. It was a beautiful sight and symphony for Jullianna. Good. People always tend to overlook her, underestimated her. People would assume that she was just a kid who did not know any better. She liked it that way. Because nothing thrilled Jullianna more than a good challenge, and judging by the way Stephanie was staring her down, she had just found herself a new one.
She then let out a light laugh, though there was no real humor behind it. Stephanie tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit as she studied Jullianna with thinly veiled annoyance.
“So what if I’m young and beautiful?” Stephanie mused, voice airy but carrying an undertone of sharpness. “Last time I checked, being young and beautiful isn’t a crime.”
Jullianna simply raised an eyebrow, keeping her smirk firmly in place, which only seemed to annoy the hell out of Stephanie even more.
“And for the record, I know what fornication means, thank you very much. I love your father, I adore him. Your father is exactly the kind of man I’ve always envisioned myself marrying. This—” she gestured between herself and Jullianna as if making some kind of grand declaration, “is the real deal, honey. Nothing, and I say nothing, is going to come between us.”
Jullianna barely blinked at Stephanie’s words. She just leaned back against the wooden swing, one arm lazily draped over the armrest, completely unbothered, and yawning out of boredom to piss off Stephanie more.
While Stephanie, on the other hand, was growing impatient. She leaned forward slightly, gaze piercing as she said, “you need to understand something, sweetheart. This is the reality now, you have to accept the fact that you’re no longer the only girl in Fernando Alonso’s life. You need to get over it.”
That did it. Jullianna’s lips curled into an even bigger smirk, one that was almost too smug, too knowing. It made Stephanie’s fingers twitch slightly, as if she were resisting the urge to wipe the expression right off her face. She leaned in slightly as well, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared Stephanie down.
“Oh? That’s the reality, huh?” she drawled, voice dripping with amusement.
Jullianna continued, her smirk never wavering. “So, just to be clear that we’re on the same page here, papá’s money has nothing to do with any of this? No part of you thinks that marrying him just so happens to come with a very very comfortable lifestyle?”
Stephanie’s expressions had immediately tightened, but she quickly schooled her features back into something neutral. “Are you insinuating that I’m marrying your father for his money?” she asked, feigning offense, though her voice was just a little too even to be genuine.
Jullianna simply shrugged, the smirk on her face never fading. “I’m not insinuating anything, but if that’s what you think, then feel free to think of such things,” she said innocently, though her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen this in a film before. I mean, come on, I’ve watched cinderella more times than I can count.”
Stephanie’s brows furrowed slightly, unsure of where this was going. Jullianna sighed dramatically and shook her head. “And if this whole shazam isn’t about money, then great! But personally? I’d rather not end up scrubbing the floors and befriending the neighborhood birds while you have breakfast in bed, smiling down at me from your throne in papá’s house.”
Her entire face stiffened at what Jullianna just said, lips pressing together tightly as the words settled between them. For the first time in their entire conversation, Stephanie had no response at all, and that? That brought nothing but pure, unadulterated joy.
However, Stephanie’s entire demeanor changed the moment Jullianna’s words sank in. Her perfectly poised expression faltered, just for a second, before her brows furrowed and her lips pressed into a thin, irritated line. It was the exact reaction that Jullianna had been hoping for. She had successfully gotten under Stephanie’s skin, and now? Now she was really starting to see the cracks in the woman her father wanted to marry.
Stephanie inhaled sharply, composing herself before leaning forward again, but this time, her face was mere inches from Jullianna’s. She locked eyes with her, the intensity of her gaze enough to make most people shrink under the pressure. But not Jullianna.
“You are unbelievably out of line, jovencita,” Stephanie said in a low voice, tone dripping with controlled frustration.
Jullianna simply blinked up at her, her smirk never faltering. Stephanie exhaled through her nose, clearly trying to keep herself from snapping. Then, with slow precision, she spoke, enunciating each word carefully.
“Listen to me, and you listen good,” she began, voice dangerously soft. “I’m marrying your father whether you like it or not. So if I were you, I’d quit playing whatever little game you think you’re playing and stay out of my way.”
Jullianna raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly as if contemplating Stephanie’s words, but said nothing. Stephanie leaned more closer, voice dropping even more lower.
“You are way in over your head, sweetheart,” she continued, tone carrying a hint of condescension. “So I suggest you don’t tangle yourself up in things you clearly don’t understand.”
There was a heavy pause. Stephanie studied Jullianna’s face, waiting for some kind of reaction, for her to look intimidated, or at least acknowledge the warning, and Stephanie took Jullianna’s silence as an agreement, she leaned back on the swing, arm draping over the armrest.
Instead, Jullianna just smiled. Not a polite smile, not a nervous smile. But a slow, teasing, infuriating smirk. Then, she shrugged, Stephanie’s eye twitching. Before the woman could say another word, Jullianna stood up, stretching slightly as if this whole conversation had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience for her. Without a warning, she bent down so that she was now the one at Stephanie’s eye level.
“Je comprends parfaitement, Cruella.” she said smoothly. Stephanie blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
Jullianna smiled again, that same mischievous, knowing grin that had been pushing all of Stephanie’s buttons. Then, because Jullianna was still eleven after all, and feeling particularly childish, she blew raspberries right in Stephanie’s face, wherein the woman recoiled, visibly appalled. Jullianna giggled, straightening up before giving her soon-to-be stepmother a playful wink.
“Au revoir, Stéphanie,” she said cheerfully.
Jullianna turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the woman completely dumbfounded.
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#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#fernando alonso#fernando alonso 14#fa14#fernando alonso fic#fernando alonso series#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso x female reader#fernando alonso x female!reader#fernando alonso x ex wife!reader#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x wife!reader#fa14 x reader#fa14 imagine#fa14 fanfic#fa14 fic#fa14 series#the parent trap 1998
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now playing...
i'll still be here - leigh-anne
pairing: lee heeseung x reader x sim jaeyun
warnings: i dont think so but pls lmk if i need to add anything, 18+
pls ignore timestamps and possible typos lol - this is partially written, please be sure to read the written portion to fully understand the story <3
wc: 468
your phone was endlessly dinging, making it hard for you to focus but you tried your best to focus on the lady sitting in front of you. she had a sleek bun, wire rimmed glasses, and a pen and paper sat in front of her.
“do you want to get that, yn?” she asks and you shake your head.
“no, not important” you say with a smile as you quickly switch the ringer off to mute all of the sounds.
“what is it, anyway?” she asks and you explain that it’s all of the people reaching out to you regarding your new song and because you kind of dropped it out of the blue; a lot of people were pleasantly surprised. you also added that you were planning to just drop the song and kind of go MIA to stop yourself from obsessing over every single thing that people say about you online.
“that’s good, i’m glad you’re doing your best to listen to my advice but don’t feel like you need to be so strict with yourself. i know you’re a popstar so being on the internet is a part of your job; just know when to get off when it’s becoming too much, ok?”
she was so knowledgable in everything she said, it always made so much sense and whatever she said to you brought so much clarity. which was a good thing because it was her job at the end of the day.
the rest of your session with your therapist goes very smoothly, talking about your goals for the week and habits that you’ve wanted to get into that you haven’t and other habits that have been hard for you to break and how you can get to a point of releasing those habits.
it’s only been a few days speaking with this therapist but since she was a part of the mental health retreat you attended previously, she had your information from the retreat so you weren’t completely starting from scratch.
you bid her goodbye with a small hug and you make your way to your car, pulling out your phone and quickly scrolling through all of the notifications before driving to your apartment. deciding that you’d respond to your texts when you got home. you listened to your new song on your drive home and you don’t realize you’re crying until your version gets too blurry. it wasn’t tears of sadness but something of release.
like you’re releasing so much weight off your shoulders without the guilt your old self would feel for putting yourself first. as if you had become a totally new person in the last month and this new era of your life was focused on just you.
choosing yourself and not feeling guilty for wanting to be happy.
masterlist - back - next
hoonieyun notes: guys u need to listen to this song its so beautiful like truly one of my favorite songs.. the lyrics and overall melodic value of the song is so impactful.. anyways omg now playing is almost overrrrr wahhh
copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3
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inmate!eddie munson x reader
cw: smut, pregnancy talks and all that come with it, mentions of nausea and vomiting, hospitalization, i think that's it?
wc: 19k
a/n: finally. it's finally here. this has been a two year in the making project for me and I am so happy to have this out. on the outside was my first ever fic and i can't believe i'm actually saying good bye to these characters. i hope you all enjoy.
“Eddieee?” You call out for your fiance from where you stand in front of your refrigerator.
You were about to change out the calendar for the new year, head pounding as if you had celebrated the New Year drinking with everyone else despite your sobriety. Eddie had only had a few beers, but he woke up this morning feeling fresh as a daisy in comparison to how sick you felt.
At first you were worried that maybe you had caught the flu. You hadn’t been feeling the best for a couple days, but chalked it up to how hard you had been working right before winter break to get all your students' grades in on time for the end of the semester. You’d also volunteered to chaperone the winter formal where, unfortunately, one of the students spiked the punch. Thankfully Eddie had been your chaperone date and handled the situation for you while you got sick in the bathroom hoping that you weren’t going to relapse after 18 months of sobriety.
But, now that you’re looking at the calendar all marked through, including the ones with a red dot for your expected period days and little pink hearts on the subsequent fertile days, you realize that those days came and passed without notice.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” Eddie asks as he pulls the new Iron Maiden hoodie you got him for the holiday over his head, curls bouncing as they are freed. Bear follows right behind him, coming up to you expectantly as he sees his box of treats sitting on top of the fridge.
“Babe, did I have a period this month?”
His head cocks to the side as he looks at you, eyes squinting and tongue poking out as he thinks about all the crazy shit that has happened this last month. With your crazy schedule and his extra hours at work, the two of you had barely had time to spend together, making it up to each other once your break had finally hit. But as he wracks his brain, he doesn’t recall you asking him to bring you home any sweets or crying any more than usual.
“Um, not that I can remember,” he says with a shake of his head. He watches as your eyes widen, a toothy smile spreading across your face before you cover it with your hands. It takes him a moment to figure out what has you all giddy, but when it hits him he’s flying to you, almost tripping over Bear as he wraps you up in a hug to spin you around. “Holy shit, please tell me you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me,” he says for lack of better words, brain short circuiting with excitement, placing you back down on your feet.
“I mean, I can’t make any promises until I take a test,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, not wanting to get your hopes up after having your heart broken so many times before.
“Can you take a test now?” Eddie asks with a childish excitement.
“I think so,” you say flipping between the calendar pages, now crushed from Eddie's embrace. Upon further inspection, you realize you’ve actually not had a period since October. It makes your head reel back, but you keep that information to yourself just in case. “Let-let me go take one,” you say shakily, nerves starting to get to you as you swiftly walk to the bathroom. The door barely closes before you’re digging under the sink for a test, cursing when the box you had under the sink comes up empty. “Shit,” you curse, throwing the box into the bathroom trash can with force.
“Are you okay?” you hear from the other side of the door, followed by a whine from your dog. You startle the both of them with the force you use to swing the door open.
“I took the last one already,” you say with frustration, “I’m all out!”
“Well, come on, lets go get your shoes on,” Eddie brushes your frustration to the side, grabbing your hand and leading you out to the couch. He grabs your boots for you, unlacing them so he can put them on your feet. You can’t even stay mad at your own shortcoming when he’s treating you so well.
“Eddie, I can put my own shoes on,” you say with a chuckle. His big brown eyes look up at you with faux offense, still grabbing your foot and slipping it into the boot.
“I don’t think so, princess,” he says with a playful sass that you’ve grown fond of, because it really only comes out when he’s in a giddy mood like this. “I can’t have you doing anything that may make the baby uncomfortable, like bending over or lifting a finger.”
Your breath hitches at his words. The baby. The one that may or may not be making a home inside of you right now. Eddie’s baby, with you.
Bile threatens to travel higher as you look at how he’s beaming in front of you. Eddie’s never known the heartbreak that you’ve known when it comes to these things; wanting something so bad and yet your body doesn’t comply. He’s been so patient and understanding since you’ve started trying. Everything that you wish you had all those years when you were with Henry, which only made you want to give him a baby more. Anyone so kind, caring, and self sacrificing as Eddie deserved everything he’s ever wanted and more.
Every month that you’ve sat silently sobbing as you stare at the one lonely line while he snores into his pillow none the wiser has been another twist of the guilt covered knife in your gut. He doesn’t ask about it, even if he sees the wrapper sticking out between the tissues you used to clean your tears. But he tends to you with acts of kindness and service, his love language with you.
The same love language he displayed as he put on your shoes. Same as when he went out to start the car for you, opening the door and fastening your seatbelt, making sure it’s not too snug across your lap. He let you grab your tests, meeting you at the front of the store with a bundle of flowers hidden poorly behind his back. He makes you walk in front of him so he can “surprise you” when you get to the car.
Eddie practically jumps out of the car to help you out as you arrive back to your house. Bear jumps between the two of you as you two run back to the bathroom, letting out loud giggles and squeals as Eddie pretends to chase you into the bathroom. You close the door on him, catching your breath and wiping tears from your eyes as he bangs on the door for you to let him in. Bear barks at him and Eddie laughs calling him a traitor. When you hear them walk away, presumably so Eddie can let Bear out, you pull the box of tests out of the bag.
Taking a deep breath, your hands start to shake as you set everything up, reading over the instructions regardless of how many tests you’ve taken. You didn’t want to mess this up. Not this one. Every time someone told you that you would just know when you were pregnant, you thought you knew what they meant, only to be met with the negative test. This time felt different, though. Every tick of the clock was another butterfly in your stomach. And with the closing seconds, you felt your breathing pick up, chest tightening with anticipation. You stand up, hand hovering over the wrapper of the test. Counting one, two, three, before pulling the wrapper away.
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, petting Bear on autopilot. He wasn’t sure how long these tests normally take, but after 10 minutes he was starting to get nervous. What if you were pregnant? It’s a good thing you found a house with a lot of space. He wondered what color you would want him to paint the nursery. Would you want to wait to find out what you’re having or would you want to find out as soon as possible? He would want to know right away, but would wait if you wanted him to. Is your car safe for a baby? He’ll just have to pick up some extra hours to get you a new one. Oh, god, would you want a minivan like Nancy and Jonathan…though, it does come in handy if you have multiple kids. Would you want more kids after this?
Bear’s ears perk up under Eddie’s touch as the door to the bathroom clicks, the door opening much more gracefully compared to before. He’s on his feet immediately, slightly shuffling as he waits for you to come out. Any thoughts he had before the door opened are immediately evacuated from his mind as he sees the vacant look on your face, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks being the only hint of emotion he can gauge from you.
His legs move on their own, pulling you into him as your knees buckle. He holds you up as the sobs shake your whole body in his grasp. Everything is automatic for him as your wails echo on the bathroom walls. Lowering you to the edge of the tub, he starts the shower, letting the water warm up as he undresses you, and then himself. He climbs into the tub, pulling you in with him so that the water hits the both of you as you continue to cry.
“Eddie!” Your voice is frantic as you call his name from the kitchen. You hear him running down the hall, a loud thump and a curse towards Bear as the two of them round the corner into the kitchen.
When you answered the phone, you assumed it was going to be Dustin telling you that he and his new girlfriend, Maggie, would be leaving soon for your double date that he and Eddie worked really hard to find reservations on Valentine’s day for. Instead, you were met with the urgent voice of Wayne’s boss, Bill, who informed you that Wayne had passed out on the line again.
Eddie folded where he stood, spiraling into old memories from close to a decade ago. Bear laid next to where he kneeled while you got the quick details from Bill before hanging up. Quickly, you lead Eddie to the couch so you could lace his converse, pull his Iron Maiden hoodie over his head, and get him out the door and buckled into the passenger seat.
About halfway to the hospital he finally breaks down, almost scaring you off the road when he cursed loudly, slamming his fist against the window. You let him get it out, offering your hand for him to take when he was ready, which he grabs almost immediately. Pulling your hand against his lips, he kisses your knuckles between sobs, eyes fixed out the side window.
As you pull into Hawkins General, you let Eddie out at the door so he can get inside as fast as possible. Soon after you park, you make your way up to the room that you were told Wayne was in. You were expecting to walk in and find Wayne still unconscious with Eddie a mess by his side.
Instead, you could hear the two of them bickering from the hallway. The sound was bittersweet, a smile on your face as you walk in and see a very exasperated Eddie pacing and a disgruntled Wayne sitting cross-armed in the hospital bed like a petulant child. You noticed the oxygen tubes in his nose, and he looked generally worse off than he did when you saw him two weeks ago for Sunday dinner.
“Why don’t you ever listen to me!” Eddie exclaims, not noticing that you’ve walked in the room yet.
“What did he not listen to this time?” You say jokingly as you walk to the other side of Wayne’s bed, leaning in to give him a hug that he returns with an old man grunt.
“Not just me,” Edde starts, “We both told him to go get that cough looked at and he never did. Well guess what? His stubborn ass has fucking pneumonia!”
“Wayne,” you look at him with concern. His eyes remain focused on the foot of the bed, ignoring that he’d been caught. “You’ve had that cough since Christmas. And I remember you promising me that you’d go and get checked out.”
The old man lets out a sigh that turns into a cough. You place a hand on his back and rub up and down, eliciting an eye roll from Eddie as he watches you baby his uncle.
“Listen, I’ve been meaning to go, but I just haven’t had the time.”
“Oh, you have to be joking. You couldn’t find time between your shows to pick up the phone and call the doctor?”
“Eddie,” you give him a pointed look.
“You can’t be--”
Eddie’s words are cut off by the doctor pulling open the curtain to Wayne’s room. The balding, older man greets you all, confirming some information with Wayne before going over some more of his test results.
“Everything else came back fairly normal. Your blood pressure was a little high, but that’s to be expected. Just make sure you keep up on your blood pressure medication. Don’t want to have a stroke and a heart attack within a year, right?”
The doctor is the only one laughing at his joke. Eddie’s eyes snap to Wayne, who grumbles “shit” under his breath. But Eddie keeps his mouth shut, letting the doctor finish and leave before finally speaking.
“So, when the hell did you have another heart attack, Wayne?”
“Eddie,” Wayne rolls his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“No,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him, “I know that I don’t live with you anymore, but I think it’s only fair that you tell me if you have another fucking heart attack!”
“After what you did last time, you really think I’d tell you?”
“Damn it, Wayne! Don’t hold that shit above my head!”
“Okay, okay,” you move around the bed to stand between the two of them. “That’s enough, you two. Wayne, I get why you might be discouraged to tell Eddie that you had another heart attack, but you have to understand that things are different now. Shit, even I’m hurt that you didn’t say anything.” He looks up at you with a wounded expression.
“And Eddie,” you place your hands gently on either cheek before tightening your grip, “You need to stop yelling before you get us kicked out.” His expression drops to annoyance, grabbing your wrists lightly and pulling your hands away. “Wayne only wants what’s best for you, just as you want what’s best for him. So…why don’t we talk about what we’ve discussed before.”
His eyes meet yours, mood shifting between you as he nods his head, reaching out to take your hand in his. When you turn around, Wayne is eyeing you both suspiciously, letting out another cough.
“Wayne,” Eddie starts, “When we got the house, the two of us sat down and talked about what we would do if you had another heart attack. Or if anything major happened to you again. And, um, we decided that we would want you to move in with us if--”
“No.”
“Wayne--”
“Nope.”
“Just hear us out,” you plead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Please?”
“...Fine,” he says with a huff.
Eddie smiles slyly at you, thankful that he has you around to be on his side.
“Uncle Wayne,” you start, hitting him in that soft spot when you call him uncle, “We would really like for you to move in with us. Not to take away any of your freedom or anything. Actually, you’d be more free…because we also want you to retire from the plant.”
Wayne’s brow raises at your suggestion.
“Eddie and I make enough money between us that you wouldn’t need to work unless you wanted to. You’d have all the free time to fish and hunt and watch your trash TV. Which, may I remind you, we have that big TV in the living room now. Plus, Bear would love to have someone at home with him all day.”
He grunts again. Bear loves Wayne, but Wayne is steadfast in his dislike for Bear, even though you’ve caught him giving him people food and the occasional scratch behind the ear.
“You sure y’all want me to move in? Won't get to have all your alone time together anymore,” he asks, seeking confirmation of your proposal.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, pops,” Eddie says with a smile, “We’ll figure that out ourselves.”
The next month weeks flew by for you and Eddie. You’d been busy prepping your sophomores for the upcoming state testing that takes place the week before Spring Break as well as running yard sales during the most uncharacteristically warm winter that Indiana was giving you to get rid of any of Wayne’s extra stuff. There was also the babysitting for Chrissy and Jason you’d been doing while they remodel their kitchen. And that was just your schedule, as Eddie had a slew of his own obligations on his end with work and prepping the house for Wayne to move in.
The two of you found it almost impossible to have any time together. Almost being the key word here, because Eddie could find time to bed you like it was his job. The week before Wayne finally made his big move, the two of you were on each other like rabbits at any given moment.
Now Wayne was fully moved in. He opted to rent the trailer out for cheap to a single mom who was looking around the park for something that she could afford for her and her son. He finished his last week at the plant, his boss and coworkers throwing him a surprise retirement party at the pool hall they like to frequent. Eddie and you decided to get a hold of his longtime friend down in Florida and sent him away for a week to have a buddies trip and to “get some more vitamin D in your system after working the night shift for so long” according to Eddie.
Eddie may or may not have purposely planned Wayne’s trip during the same time that you’d be off for spring break, but wouldn’t admit that to you. He just wanted to get you all to himself so bad, eating his words to Wayne about having alone time together. The only thing making him feel a little less crazy about the whole thing is your little remarks about how it would be even worse if it was a baby you were bringing home, and that at least the two of you are still getting a full night's sleep. So, he sucked it up until the day finally came that he was to take Wayne to the airport.
He quietly gave your sleeping form a peck on the cheek that morning before the two of them left, not wanting to wake you since you loved to sleep in on your days off. You’d been feeling sick again, similar to how you felt right before the winter break a few months back. Eddie was worried that they were putting too much responsibility on you by having you teach two grades at the same time, but you assured him that you could handle it, that once you were off for the summer that you’d feel better.
You woke up around 11 am with a headache so bad it made you sick to your stomach. You’d been having them off and on for about a week, barely able to stand the fluorescent lights of your classroom or the smell of the coffee pot in the break room. At least your sophomore students spent most of the morning testing, and by the end of the week you were playing a movie for all of your classes as an excuse to keep the lights off.
After puking up bile for 20 minutes, your stomach gave you a break so that you could make yourself look presentable enough for the doctor’s office. Eddie made you promise him that if you weren’t better by today that you would go and get checked out. So you shove some buttered toast into your mouth and cross your fingers in hopes that you’ll make it to the doctor without having to pull over and spill your guts.
Thankfully, the urgent care in town wasn’t busy and you were taken back to a room fairly quickly. The nurse asked you a slew of questions in a monotone voice as your mouth watered from the wave of nausea that hit you again. When you jumped up suddenly to wretch in the small trash can on the floor, you heard her say something about a pregnancy test in a passive manner.
“Pregnancy test?” You ask between heaving breaths.
“Yes, dear,’ she says nonchalantly as she continues to write on her stack of papers. A different feeling filled your stomach then, coating it with nerves that seemed to distract you long enough to get you off the floor.
Ever since the let down from New Years, you and Eddie hadn’t talked much about kids other than some off hand comments here and there. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to keep trying, but the two of you decided to go with the flow and let things happen if they happen.
At least that’s what you told anyone who asked.
In your head you’ve been beating yourself up all over again, just like you did for so many years, which is probably only making you more sick. You almost tell the nurse not to even bother with the test, but she seemed like she wasn’t having the best day so you just let her take your blood and be on her merry way.
When the doctor finally comes in, he gives you a quick look over and tells you to take some benadryl for your symptoms. It left you feeling annoyed, wishing you had just stayed home and done that yourself instead of wasting your time coming in.
As you leave he tells you he’ll call you later in the day with your test results and any other instructions that he seems necessary. It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but you didn’t protest as you signed some consent forms at check out, just wanting to get back to your bed.
When you woke up a little while later, you had to admit that you did feel much better than in the morning. Maybe you were just getting to an age where your allergies were getting more sensitive.
As you amble into the kitchen, the flashing light from your answering machine catches your eye. You press play as you open the door to let Bear out, listening to the machine play as you start to pull out everything to make a late lunch before Eddie gets home from his half day at work.
You have 3 new messages.
First new message.
Beep.
Hey guys, it’s Dustin. I was calling to see if we could get a game set up for Friday? The guys and Erica are going to be in town and we’ve been talking about playing a game with everyone together again. Will said he would DM if you didn’t want to, but we’d like to have you back in the throne if the missus could get us into the theater room. Give me a call back as soon as you can and let me know. Bye!
Beep.
Second message.
Hey, sweetheart. Just wanted to let you know I got to work okay. I’m gonna stop and pick up a pizza on the way home, so don’t worry about cooking dinner tonight. Want you to be as relaxed and rested as possible for what I got in store for you tonight. Love you, baby.
Beep.
Third message.
Hello, this is Dr. Mando calling for…in regards to her test results. Everything came back negative in regards to your flu and strep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBGYN from this point on for any more treatment. If our results are needed for their records please have them fax a request form to-
[REWIND]
-ep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBG-
[REWIND]
-only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We-
[REWIND]
-hich puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recom-
Bear scratching at the door pulled you from your trance as you played back the message over and over again. You didn’t want to walk away, afraid that if you left the machine that the message would somehow disappear. Or that if you played the message again the words would change. Or that you would wake up and realize that you’re having a benadryl induced dream while you’re still asleep in your bed. But the feeling of Bear’s fur brushing against your leg throttles you into reality.
You are awake right now.
And for the first time in your life you’ve been pregnant for more than 6 weeks.
With haste, you pick up the phone line and begin to dial the first person who you know can help you.
Keeping secrets from Eddie was a challenge. His intuition when it came to you was almost scary. At times it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. Which, honestly, he might. But, it doesn’t help when he wants to be with you every waking second of the day. Something that you want, too, but every time you look at him you have to duck your head or avert your gaze to keep yourself from blurting out the news to him.
It’s also been incredibly hard to deny all of his advances.
He’s not pressured you to do anything with him, never has, but you can tell he’s letting your rejections get to him in a self doubting way. Even when you did give him head hoping it would be enough, his pouty lip almost got you when you told him not to return the favor.
You do feel for him. The two of you had been planning to have quite the week with Wayne being out of the house. But even if you could have sex with him, not wanting to risk anything with how rough he can get at times, you honestly weren’t in the mood anyway. Benadryl was the only thing helping with your nausea and headaches so you were constantly drowsy. And now you were getting terrible acid reflux on top of it, going through tums like candy.
When you told Eddie that you made an appointment with your primary doctor for Friday morning, he insisted that he take you in case there was anything he could do to help. You told him not to worry about it, keeping from him that the appointment was actually with your OB. You felt guilty when the ultrasound tech handed you the grainy pictures of your little baby because you know that Eddie would have wanted to be with you for this moment, but it would all be worth it tonight as long as everything went to plan.
When you and Eddie pulled into the closed high school later that day, you were greeted by the now familiar, smiling faces of your fiance’s long time friends. It wasn’t often that all of them could get together like this between work, school, and their own families. But even with all of their big ages, the atmosphere as they all embraced each other was of childlike giddiness. You were included in the rounds of hugs and pats on the back as you had been accepted so openly by everyone over the course of yours and Eddie’s relationship. The tightest hug was from Eddie’s best friend, Jeff, the two of you share a knowing look with one another as you part.
Once everyone files inside, they begin to work together to set the old theatre room set up like they had back in the day. It was funny to watch them move around each other out of muscle memory, with a few more grunts and groans than they likely let out all those years ago.
And as they start to play, the energy in the room becomes electrifying. There isn’t a single person sitting by their second hour in, voices talking over each other as the room is divided over combat choices. Even if you only had a basic understanding of what was happening, you were very much entertained where you sat next to Eddie at the end of the table.
It was a sight to see Eddie in his element up close. The passion he has for this game was on another level. There’s no way that it was anything less than cathartic for him to be in a state of power like this, playing every part as if he was performing for an audience, using his whole body and voice to play each character as if he was truly in the fantasy world he created.
It made you tear up a bit, having to discreetly wipe your eyes to hide the emotions so as not to make him worry or pull him out of his game. But the images in your head of him playing pretend in the backyard with your child has a lump sitting in your throat. The two of them with pillow cases as capes and sticks as swords slaying dragons (Bear) while you watch them from the kitchen window.
You end up having to excuse yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect yourself in your newly hormonal state. You barely make it into the hallway before the water works start, bee-lining for the closest restroom so you can let it out. Anyone passing by would probably think you were crying over some devastating news with the way you were blubbering and wailing.
You do your best to clean yourself up, but you know Eddie will be able to tell you’ve been crying. So instead of going straight to the drama room, you decide to go to your classroom and work on some assignments for your classes on Monday.
After a while, a knock on your door startles you, head whipping to see your man standing at the doorway to your classroom with a concerned look on his face.
“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks as he takes a few steps to stand by you at your desk. “Were we boring you with our nerdy game?”
“No, not at all!” You stand from your desk with a shake of your head. “I just wasn’t feeling well and needed a little quiet, that’s all.” You give him a reassuring smile, taking his hand in yours. He raises it to his lips and kisses the knuckles, taking a moment to admire your ring before letting your hands fall, still clasped between the two of you.
“We’re taking a break right now,” he says with a suggestive tone you know all too well. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes as he glances up at the clock on the wall. “Need to be back in five minutes,” he leans into you, dipping his head to speak low in your ear, “Think that’s enough time for me to get you on your desk like last time?”
You feel the heat flush to your cheeks at the mentions of your previous inappropriate endeavors in this classroom. For a brief moment you consider his proposition, but ultimately you pull away with a sympathetic look.
“As fun as that sounds, you and I both know 5 minutes isn’t enough time for you,” you poke his chest and he gives you a shit eating grin, “And I would be mortified if any of your friends walked in on us because you took too long to come back to your game.”
“It might be too long for me,” he draws out the last word as he runs his hands up and down your sides, “but I think I could take care of you if you’ve got room for me under that desk.”
His brows move suggestively as he waits for your response, which is just a playful roll of the eye and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Eds, but I’m okay.”
“Well, alright,” he sighs heavily, his tone laced with faux disappointment, “I guess I’ll just starve.” You throw your head back with laughter at his dramatics, him joining you with a fit of giggles of his own.
You decided to return to the game with him, everyone getting swept up once again in the game's energy that Eddie puts out into the room. The enjoyment is clear with how engaged everyone is, jumping up and down or yelling out like a group of your students rather than a room full of adults.
Erica and Dustin get into it over a decision in game, and you get to witness Eddie’s potential Dad Mode as he defuses the situation with no one getting their feelings hurt. You can’t help it, but for the rest of the game you subconsciously note little things that he does that may be a preview for how he’s going to handle parenthood with you. And when the group wins against whatever big monster Eddie had them fighting against, you can feel the ache in your cheeks from all the smiling you’ve done while observing them.
“Alright, alright, let’s get this shit cleaned up,” he says as they start to tease him. He gives you a look that you can only interpret as “I totally let them win” before he starts putting away his things.
“Hey, look what I found,” Jeff suddenly speaks up from across the room. He’s holding up a box that you know has some of their club's shirts in them for the new members. You feel your heart drop into your ass.
Shit, it’s happening.
“Looks like they’re still using your old design, Eddie.” Jeff says as he plops the box down on the table. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you focus on not passing out.
“Guess you can’t fix perfection,” Eddie quips back, which elicits a few groans in response.
“Do you have a shirt?”
Your eyes flit to Will where he’s moved to stand next to you. You look at him for a moment before shaking your head, still unable to open your mouth.
“Oh, good idea, kid,” Eddie says as he places a hand on your shoulder. “You sat through a whole game, so that makes you an honorary member.”
You look over to Jeff, who gives you a subtle nod to signal that everything was good to go. It’s not exactly what the two of you had discussed, but this seemed a little more natural for the situation.
As you rise from your chair, you’re able to let out a small “okay” before walking to stand next to Jeff. You take a sharp inhale when you see it, the small bundle of material folded at the top of the other shirts.
All eyes are on you as you reach down into the box. You pretend to look through the pile before grabbing what you really want, pulling it out of the box and holding it up with both hands. It’s the first time you’re seeing it yourself, the small onesie version of the Hellfire shirt that Eddie made almost 15 years ago, black quarter sleeves and all. It’s exactly what you imagined, and you’re so, so thankful that Jeff was able to bring your vision to life.
“What do you think about this one, Eds?”
The words roll off your tongue without you thinking, your mouth moving on its own as it’s tired of waiting for your brain to catch up. Flipping the onesie around for the table to see, your eyes find Eddie’s. You watch in real time as the emotions come and go from his features; ignorant joy, confusion, and realization.
“No way!” You hear Dustin shout, too focused on Eddie to pay him any attention though.
“Dude holy shit!”
“Hell yeah man! It’s about time!”
“I call dibs on babysitting!”
“Are you serious?” His voice cracks, a loud sniffle escaping as his body starts to shake. Fat tears roll down his reddening cheeks that he tries to wipe with his sleeve. “Is this real?”
You nod, your own tears coming back once again. “Ten weeks,” you say as you exhale, doing your best to hold it together.
Eddie moves quickly to be by your side, taking your face in his hands and crashing his lips into yours. Collective oohs and awes swirl around you at the display of affection between you. When he pulls away he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes, letting out an airy chuckle.
You hold the onesie out for him to take, and he holds it in his hands with such delicacy, as if it's the baby itself.
“When did you find out?” He asks with a sniffle, not taking his eyes off the little article of clothing.
“On Monday, after my appointment.”
“You’ve known since Monday?” He almost seems upset, but there’s no way he could be mad at you right now. “Well, I guess that explains a lot.”
“I’m sorry, Eds. Trust me, it was really hard not to say anything. But, I feel like it finally paid off. All thanks to Jeff.”
You turn to gesture to him, and Jeff takes a small bow. “Happy to do my part for my future niece and or nephew. Just gotta let me know if I need to make another one in case it’s twins.”
“Twins?!” Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile.
“It’s not twins. Here,” you walk over to your purse and pull the strip of pictures from your purse. “See for yourself.”
Eddie takes the picture from you and examines them. Excited laughter takes over him. “Holy shit, I’m gonna be dad!” The gang surrounds him, congratulating the both of you.
“What if he sees it and doesn’t get it?”
“Babe, the sign literally says ‘Welcome home Grandpa’. I know he’s old but I’m sure he’ll catch on pretty quickly.”
Eddie and you stand at the end of the gate in the Indianapolis airport waiting for Wayne to make his way down the tunnel. The two of you thought it would be fun to surprise him about his promotion when you pick him up, making a day out of it to find him a new mug to surprise him with as well. Eddie holds the gift bag in one hand while you hold the sign, both of you skimming the crowd of people for the balding Munson in the mix.
“There he is!” Eddie nudges you, pointing into the crowd, “Hold it up so he can see!”
You raise the sign above your head as Eddie waves to get Wayne’s attention. Even from where you’re standing you can see the old man smile, then quint to read your sign. He’s almost to you before the look on his face changes.
“What the--What the hell did y’all do while I was gone?” Wayne drops his bags and wraps his arms around the two of you.
“Technically it was before you left,” Eddie laughs, returning his uncles embrace.
“Is that why y’all sent me away then? Do I gotta move back out to make room in the house now?”
“No, of course not,” you laugh, handing him the sign to look at.
“We’re not about to kick out Hawkin’s next great babysitter,” Eddie says as he puts a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. The older man huffs out a laugh, smile wide as he runs his fingers over the word grandpa.
“So that’s the real reason you wanted me to move in,” he says, looking at the two of you again. “I thought I was supposed to be retired?”
“Well, I hope your time off was enough because we’ll need you on duty in about 9 months.” Wayne shakes his head. Eddie hands Wayne the gift bag and he opens it to find the mug inside.
“I love my Grandpa,” Wayne reads from the mug, a hand going to his eyes as he wipes away tears. “Shit you guys. I’m so happy for ya.” Tears start to well up in your own eyes and you pull Wayne in for a side hug.
The three of you make your way home, discussing your future with the baby the whole way. Talks of all the diapers you’ll need to get, who will get up in the middle of the night to feed and change diapers, names and all the other fun parts that come with being a parent.
“So we gotta paint soon,” Wayne says from the passenger seat. “Do y’all have a colour picked out?”
“Since we won't know the gender for a while,” you say from the back seat, “we talked about painting the baby’s room a light green for now. We can always paint it again later down the road.”
“That sounds nice,” Wayne says with a nod. “We can pick some up this weekend and I’ll paint while the two of you are at work. It’s warm enough out that I can open the window so the smell won’t get to ya.”
“You sure you wanna do that by yourself?” Eddie asks, turning into the driveway.
“Sure, gives me a break from the couch. I know the two of you are gonna be busy so might as well make myself useful.”
“We would really appreciate that, Uncle Wayne,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to look at you, resting his hand on yours.
“What’s wrong?” Robin says from her spot next to you at the bathroom sink. The two of you, plus Steve and Eddie, had decided to take a trip to the mall today. This was your third trip to the restroom since you’d been there and you could tell Robin was getting suspicious.
“If you have a UTI or something you definitely need to go to the doctor, you know?”
“I’m fine, Robin.” You dry your hands, tossing the paper towel in the trash. “I just had a lot of coffee this morning,” you lie.
The truth was that you were planning on surprising her and Steve today with a pit stop in the baby clothes store that Missy and Nancy had gone to when you went shopping with them a few months ago. It was a newer store and you knew that it would be fun little way to tell them your news.
“You have to lay off that stuff,” Robin voices her concern. “I’m pretty sure I heard it makes your boobs shrink.”
“I don’t think so Bobbie.”
The two of you reconvene back with Steve and Eddie who were waiting for you on a bench. Eddie looked like a real dad with sitting there with the shopping bags in his hands. You took a moment to admire how long his hair was starting to get before they noticed you.
“Ready for our last stop?” Eddie says, suddenly standing up. He’s had a nervous air about him this whole trip, and you don’t know why. Steve and Robin are going to be over the moon when you tell them, but you suppose it’s just because he’s excited.
“Yeah, where did you want to go?” Steve asks, looking between you two.
“Oh, just a shop over by where we parked.”
The four of you make your way toward the other side of the mall. Eddie and you both stop at in front of the Baby Gap, Robin and Steve pausing when they realize you’ve stopped.
“You good?” Steve asks.
“Yep, we just need to pop in here.”
Steve and Robin look up at the store and share a look.
“Does Nancy need stuff?” Robin asks quizzically.
“Nope, we just need to get some things for ourselves,” you say, staring at them hoping it will click.
“What do you guys need at Baby Gap?”
“Duh, what else do they sell here, Steve?” Robin nudges him. And then she looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you guys are buying baby clothes?”
Eddie and you both nod excitedly. Robin squeals, bouncing up and down. Steve still looks confused.
“Why are we excited?”
“They’re pregnant, dingus!”
Now it was Steve’s turn to look at you with saucers for eyes.
“Nuh-uh,” he says with a grin.
“Yes, sir,” Eddie nods, putting an arm around you.
Steve grabs Robins arm and shakes it, still looking at the two of you. “No way!” He says excitedly. “About damn time!”
“How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?” Robin asks in quick succession.
“I’m about 12 weeks. We won't know the gender for a little while longer, but Wayne already picked out the nursery room color for us.”
“Oh I bet he was over the moon to find out,” Robin coos.
“He was. He’s very excited to be a grandpa.”
“Grandpa Wayne, oh my god.”
“Do you have any names picked out?” Steve asks.
“We don’t have any names yet,” you say, looking up at Eddie, “But we’re open to ideas.”
“Well, Steve is a good name—Ow!”
“They’re not naming their baby after you Steve.”
“It was just a suggestion!”
“Besides, Robin is more gender neutral anyway.”
“Eddie.”
Brown eyes dart from the TV and over to where you stand in the doorway. Eddie shifts and stands, walking over to you with urgency.
“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asks with concern.
You sniffle, looking up at him through your lashes. “We don’t have any pickles…”
Eddie sighs in relief, glad that your tone wasn’t due to something serious.
“We don’t,” he confirms, looking down at you. “But I’m guessing we need to remedy that?”
You nod, and Eddie can’t help but giggle. The stage of weird cravings had started a week ago and you’d been asking him to buy you the most random foods. Bananas and hot sauce, sour cream that you ate from the tub, and now pickles.
“Can you get strawberry ice cream, too?” You ask sheepishly.
“Of course,” he assures you. “Anything for my babies.”
Your emotions get to you with that, and you can’t help but cry. Eddie would be concerned if this hadn’t become a semi-regular occurrence for you now. He simply pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head.
Bear makes his way over to you, looking up as the two of you embrace. You’re both sure he knows something is up, because he’s been by you constantly since you found out you were pregnant. It's almost like he’s standing guard to make sure no one gets near you.
“I’m okay, Bear,” you say, dropping down to squat at his level. He pants as you give him ear scritches, enjoying every second of it. Eddie takes the opportunity to grab his shoes and put them on.
“Anything else you might want me to grab while I’m out?”
“More milk? And probably more cereal for you and Wayne. I think I ate the last of it earlier.”
“I’ll get you your own box.”
Bear rested at your feet as you graded papers at the dining room table. It was getting close to the end of the school year and you didn’t want to let being pregnant put you behind.
Most of your kids were passing, which was a relief to you. It was a hard year but teaching two grades was an experience that you were glad you got to have. Thankfully the school was able to find a replacement teacher for your sophomore class next year, thanks to a recommendation by yours truly.
“It’ll be so nice for you to have someone like Will teaching with you,” Eddie says as he finishes making you lunch.
“It's going to be a big change from middle school, though,” you say as you set down your grading marker. “It was for me at least.”
“Will’s smart, he can manage. Plus he’ll have you for support.”
“Only for the first few months. Then I’ll be gone for most of the year.”
You had an appointment a few weeks back to find out you were due around Halloween. The irony of it all was that you probably got pregnant right after you had taken the test back in January. Life works in mysterious ways you thought.
“True, but he can always call here if he needs something. Plus, I’m sure the other teachers are going to love him.”
“Oh they will. I just hope they don’t treat him too much like a kid.”
Eddie puts a plate in front of you and takes a seat. “He is still young,” he says before he takes a bite of his sandwich. “Buy that will probably make him more relatable to the kids, ya know?”
You nod, taking a bite of your own food. The nausea has started to subside now that you were in your second trimester, which made it easier to eat foods that you weren’t necessarily craving. Still, you took your time eating so not to trigger anything.
“Are you excited for tonight?” Eddie asks, taking a chip from your plate and popping it in his mouth.
“Yes, I can’t wait to see their faces.”
Eddie and you finally decided to start telling more people about your pregnancy now that you were in the second trimester. Chrissy had been begging you for a double date for weeks now and you’d been putting her off so that you wouldn’t spill the beans too soon. So tonight was going to be the big reveal.
Chrissy had become a really good friend ever since she sold you the house. She was a busy mom and successful realtor but she always made time to call and check in on you. It honestly was hard not to tell her when you’ve told your other friends, but you wanted to be sure you’d make it to the second trimester before telling too many people per the doctor's suggestion.
So when you and Eddie arrived at the Golden Lamb, you could already feel the butterflies in your stomach. Thankfully you were too soon to be showing so they wouldn't know right away.
“I honestly thought it would be hard with a fifth, but Chrissy has been nothing but a superstar about it all,” Jason says as you all share an appetizer. You were barely talking because the food was so good you just kept eating it.
“Awe, so have you!” Chrissy says, beaming at the praise. “Jason’s been doing great making sure the boys are on their best behavior while I’ve been recovering.”
“How is that? The recovery, that is.”
You look up at Eddie when he asks the question.
“It’s hard, I’m not going to lie. But when you’ve done it before it definitely helps to know what to expect. You guys will know one day.” Chrissy winks at you.
“Yeah, about that..”
“You’re pregnant.”
You freeze at her words. Chrissy brings her hands to her mouth and gasps.
“H-how did you know?” You ask bewildered.
“I knew it! I could just tell when I saw you!”
“Woah, congratulations, man!” Jason reaches his hand across the table for Eddie to shake, which he does.
“Oh I can’t wait! Our kids are going to be best little friends!”
That made you happy to hear. Chrissy’s youngest and even Nancy’s youngest baby weren’t going to be too much older than yours. He or she already has friends waiting for them, and that made you feel a sense of joy in your heart.
“Do you know the gender yet?” Jason asks.
“We find out in a couple weeks,” Eddie says proudly.
“Are you hoping for anything or just feeling blessed regardless?”
Truth is you’d gone back and forth or whether or not you wanted a boy or girl. You’d be happy with either, but the idea of a little girl to dress up would be fun. You know Eddie wants a boy, but has also expressed that he’s just happy to have a baby with you.
“I’m just happy to be this far,” you finally say. “Although I think a girl would be fun.” You add that last part in without looking at Eddie.
“Oh a little girl!” Chrissy squeals. “I always wanted a daughter but I’m happy with my little team of boys. But if you have a girl I will be living vicariously through you.”
“Hey, we can always try again.” Jason says, giving Chrissy a little nudge. She rolls her eyes at him. You know she would be happy to have more kids, though.
“I personally want a boy,” Eddie announces, looking at you.
“Oh, man, boys are so fun. Our house is like a madhouse, but it’s totally worth it.”
“Which reminds me,” Chrissy chimes in, “Jacob wants to learn guitar. I was wondering if we paid you if you wouldn’t mind giving him lessons?”
Eddie is taken aback at this request. A Carver kid wants to play guitar?
“Y-yeah, sure. That’s your second oldest, right?”
You were pleasantly surprised that Eddie remembered, even after all the times you’ve drilled the names and ages of their kids into his head.
“Yep! Little Jacob wants to be a rockstar someday,” Jason adds.
“Hell yeah, that’s awesome,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “Just let me know when works for you guys.”
“We were thinking about dropping him off after church on Sundays? Maybe he can spend an hour or so with you?”
“That would be perfect,” you say, nodding to Eddie.
“Obviously not when you have the baby, we can wait until after that if you want. “
“No, it should be fine,” you say, “Bring him over whenever. It will probably be easier to start now before the baby anyway.”
“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it,” Jason nods to Eddie. “By the way, have you ever heard of a band called Stryper?”
“Eddie! Quick!”
Eddie looks over at you as you come darting to him. He watches as you take his free hand and spin him around, toothbrush still in his mouth as he was getting ready for work.
“Wha es et?” He asks through a mouth full of toothpaste.
Wordlessly, you take his hand and place it on the side of your bump. The both of you are still as you wait for something to happen. After a few beats, you start to feel disappointed.
“I swear I felt them kicking,” you say dejectedly, letting go of Eddie’s hand.
“What, really?” He asks after spitting the toothpaste out of his mouth.
“Try again and maybe press down some?”
“Will that hurt it?”
“No, I don’t think so. Maybe agitate them a bit.”
Eddie puts his hand back on your barely there bump and presses down on it. It’s still for a few moments, and nothing happens. You let out a frustrated huff and cross your arms defeated.
“I really did feel them.”
“I believe you, sweetheart. That’s so exciting,” Eddie says rubbing your arms with his thumbs,
Then you feel it again.
You gasp, grabbing his hand again and moving it to the spot where you felt the movement. Eddie’s hand rested there and you waited another moment. Nothing.
“Damn it--”
Then it happened again. Eddie’s jaw dropped as he felt it that time, too stunned to speak.
“Wooooah,” he finally says, looking up at you.
“I know, right? Isn’t it crazy?”
Eddie puts both hands on your stomach and rubs it, kneeling down to be eye level with it.
“Hey there,” he says, eyes focused on your belly, “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m your dad and I think it’s really cool that you have such strong legs. Maybe you’ll be a drummer like your Uncle Garreth. That would be super bad ass. Especially if you’re a girl. Girl drummers are awesome.”
“What if they’re a boy?” You ask him. “Then you’ll be a kick ass boy drummer for all I care. I really want you to play guitar, though. Gonna teach you that as soon as you can hold your head up. Babe, should be make him a battle jacket?”
“If we make him one now he won’t fit in it for very long. We should probably wait until he’s older.”
“Damn, oh well.” Eddie sighs as he straightens up. His arms wrap around you and pull you in close, letting his chin rest on the top of your head.
“You have no fucking clue how excited I am.”
“I think I can take a guess.”
The room is quiet, dimly lit with the soft glow of the low lights and the monitor that sits next to your seat. Your feet wiggle back and forth, a nervous movement as you sit and wait for the ultrasound technician to enter the room. Eddie was sitting beside you, his own leg bouncing in anticipation.
Today you would find out the gender of your baby. The excitement was enough to keep the two of you up late into the night talking about what it will be like to have a baby boy or girl running around the house. All the baby proofing you would have to do was enough to make you feel like your house might actually be a deathtrap, even when Eddie assured you it wasn’t that bad.
A gentle knock on the door had both of your heads turning to it. “Come in,” you say, and the door opens moments later. The same technician from your last appointment walks in and you’re relieved to see a familiar face.
“Good morning,” she says as she closes the door behind her. “Are we ready to find out what you’re having?”
You and Eddie nod, a fresh batch of goosebumps rising on your skin. The technician moves around the room and does whatever she needs to do to get the monitor ready.
“Go ahead and lay back, and lift your shirt just over your belly,” she says as she pulls a bottle from the counter. As you lean back, she shakes it upside down a bit and squirts some on her finger, wiping it off on the paper towel sitting on the counter.
“Now, this may be little cold at first, but it will warm up as I move the wand, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, a nervous smile on your face.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.
“No, not at all. I’m just going to put a little of this jelly on her stomach and press this wand to it so we can see the baby. You ready?”
You nod and the cold jell hits your stomach with a sound from the bottle.
“Now here comes the wand…” She places the ultrasound wand on your stomach with a light pressure. The screen of the ultrasound machine starts to blur as she moves the jelly around on your stomach. Once she slows down, you’re able to get a more clear picture of the baby growing inside your belly.
It looked weird. Like a baby, but not at the same time. But when you saw it’s little arms moving it made a lump form in your throat.
“Awe, they’re waving at you,” the technician says, holding the wand still.
“Where?” Eddie asks, a clear look of confusion on his face. “I can’t read any of this.”
“See this right here, that’s the head,” the technician points to the large orb on the screen. “This is it’s spine, and this is it’s legs. Right here are it’s little arms.”
“Woah,” Eddie says with a smile as wide as Texas. “Hi little guy.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“What, I want to be polite!”
“Everything is looking good and they seem to be measuring on time, but I can’t say for certain until the doctor checks everything out. I’m going to take a few pictures and then we can check the gender, okay?”
You nod and let her do her thing. She moves the wand and pushes a few buttons on the keyboard, over and over, until she finally moves the wand to where it looks like the baby’s butt would be. A hot wave crashes over you as you realize that this is it.
“Okay, baby is not cross legged so I can see perfectly. Are you ready to know?”
Eddie turns to look at you for your approval. He nods, and you take a deep breath.
“Yes, we’re ready.”
“How was the appointment?” Wayne says as the two of you walk in the door, Bear relaxing over his feet.
“It went really well. We got some new pictures to show you.” Eddie walks over to Wayne and hands him the small print out of pictures the technician gave you to bring home. Wayne grabs his glasses and puts them on, still holding the small prints close to his face.
“Wow, this really looks like a baby now, huh?” He says, looking over to you. Your hand rubs your bump, now starting to show a bit. You’re happy it didn’t come in until after your school year ended, lest the students ask you a million questions.
“What else do you see?” Eddie asks the older man. Wayne looks over the pictures again, eyeing them up and down.
“What’s this last picture?”
“That is your grandson’s little Munson.”
Wayne looks up at Eddie, then over to you. As it all starts to make sense to him, he suddenly jumps up from his chair and jumps around.
“‘T’s a lil boy?! Hot dog, I got myself a new fishin’ buddy?!” His arms wrap around Eddie in a surprise hug as he jumps up and down more, rocking Eddie in the process.
“We had a feeling that you’d say that, so we went and got this.” You pull a bag from behind your back and present it to him, a very obvious smaller version of a fishing pole sticking out of it. It was made for kids, but you’re sure it would work when the baby is big enough.
“I can’t believe this,” Wayne says wiping tears from his eyes. “I would have been this happy if it was a girl, too. But it just feels so--”
“Real?” Eddie says.
“Yeah. I just can’t--I mean, damn it’s really happening.”
“Eddie started crying when she told us,” you say as you lean into him.
“How could I not? I’m gonna have a mini me running around the house!”
“Don’t I know it. I’m putting all this work in for 9 months and I know he’s going to come out looking exactly like you.”
“Hopefully he’s more tame than Eddie was,” Wayne adds, shaking his head. “Eddie used’aa bounce off the walls when he was a toddler.”
“Oh, great, can’t wait for that,” you say with a smile. You truly didn’t care what the baby was going to be like. You hoped he was just like Eddie, in every way.
“Ugh, it’s so hot,” you say as you fan yourself. Even with the shade of your front porch you were still sweating in the unrelenting July heat. It was the hottest summer Hawkins had felt in a while and of course you just had to be almost 30 weeks pregnant right now.
“We can go inside,” Eddie says from the chair next to you, flipping through a mechanics magazine.
“No, the fresh air will be good for the baby.”
“Not if you’re frying in the process. Come on, we can wait for them inside.”
As if right on que, the familiar red beater truck pulled up behind yours in the driveway.
“Hey, the party is here!” Grant shouted from the driver side window.
“Lets get this shit built!” Garreth yells as he pops out of the passenger side, Jeff following after him.
“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?” Jeff says as Garreth and Grant start to unload the back of the truck of the boxes that were in the bed.
“I was expecting you all to do the heavy lifting. We are pregnant afterall.” Eddie says as he places his lemonade down, standing up from the chair. Jeff pshes him, slapping a hand on his back before the two of them start moving boxes inside.
The boys had all agreed to help put together furniture as long as they could drink and listen to rock music the whole time, neither of which you minded but you appreciated them asking. You’d been craving some wine during your pregnancy but had been good enough to not indulge yourself, especially after you’d done so well with your sobriety.
“You boys needa hand?” Wayne asks from the front door.
“Naw, we got it pepaw,” Garreth calls, holding the other and of a large box that him and Jeff are carefully maneuvering between the cars in the driveway. You held the door open for them as they entered into the house, stopping to kick their shoes off per your house rule of no shoes in the baby’s room.
Once the boys got everything inside, they immediately plugged in the stereo system and began to fill your house with Pearl Jam’s “Ten” album. Eddie Vedder’s vocals made good background noise as you cleaned up the house. Well to the best of your ability.
Your bump had grown big enough that it was starting to become more difficult to do certain things, like bending over and squatting. But you could still handle most of the chores with out much of Eddie’s help. It was working with chemical cleaners that worried you the most, so you looked into some more natural cleaning remedies and hoped that they were doing what they were supposed to do.
“Anyone ready for lunch? I’ll order some pizzas if you want--Wow, look at you guys go!”
The room was already starting to come together as the furniture was being built. It looked like Eddie and Jeff had the crib almost put together as Grant and Garreth tackled the dresser. You thought this was going to be an all day endeavor but they may get it all done in a few hours.
“You guys are some pretty good handymen!”
“Thanks, babe,” Eddie says as he holds a couple pieces together for Jeff to screw in. “Once we get these big pieces put together we’ll work on getting the shelves up.
“Were you saying something about pizza?” Garreth asks with nails between his lips.
“Yeah, I’ll go ahead and order some. Any special requests?”
“Can you get some cheesy bread, too?” Grant asks.
“Absolutely. Well, I’ll leave you boys to it.”
“Love you, babe!”
You say a quick love you back before waddling down the hall to the kitchen.
After a quick pizza break and some trash TV with Wayne, the boys all erupted into hoots and hollers from the baby’s room.
“What’s all the commotion?” You ask walking into the room.
“I think we’re done!”
You look around the room and really take it in. It looks pretty much complete, sans some decorations and the things you plan to get from your baby shower. It hits you that you’re going to have a baby in this room with you in just a few short months.
“Awe, babe, don’t cry.” Eddie walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you back and forth.
“It just looks so nice. Thank you guys so much,” you say through sniffles.
“Of course, momma,” Jeff says, patting your shoulder.
“Anything for the newest member of Hellfire,” Grant adds.
“And the future frontman of Corroded Coffin 2.0,” Garreth says.
Eddie backs away from you and you take the opportunity to wipe away the tears from your eyes. It was so nice knowing that your baby was already so loved.
“Oh, yes! Just like that!” You moan out into your bedroom, your cries bouncing off of the walls and straight into Eddie’s ears.
He has you just how he likes you; on your back and with your legs spread wide for him. Either of your legs in his grasp to hold up so you don’t have to. Your pretty little head is resting on the pillow while he does all the work of making you squirm under him. Your hands hold your large stomach as his hips crash into yours with each thrust.
He’s doing his damndest not to be rough, but he can’t help that you look so pretty when he fucks you hard. The way you talk so dirty when no one’s around gets him going in a way he can’t even describe other than feral. Each call of his name by you sounds like music to his ears that he wants to play on repeat.
“Fuck, baby, look so good like that,” Eddie groans, watching your swollen tits bounce. “My beautiful girl, all big and round for me.”
“Yes, just for you, Eddie,” you say, your hands flying to the pillow to grip it as he picks up his pace. Eddie takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder, guiding his free hand to your stomach to hold it in place while he fucks you into the mattress. Something about you being pregnant with his child was turning him on to no end. Just the thought of his baby being inside of you drove him crazy.
“Oh, shit I’m gonna--”
“Do it, baby. Cum for me.” Eddie brought his thumb to your sensitive clit and started rubbing sloppy circles in it. Everything with you was so much more sensitive since you’d gotten pregnant, and Eddie loved to take advantage of that whenever he could.
Eddie felt it in your body as you came, the way you clenched around him, legs shaking, eyes rolling into the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture to keep forever. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie says suddenly, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his peak. You watch as he comes undone inside of you, filling you up with his spend.
“Oh my god,” Eddie stutters out, head thrown back as he recovers from his orgasm. “That was insane.”
“Come’er,” you reach your hands out for him. He obliges, sliding out of you slowly and plopping down next to you in the bed. He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Are you okay?” He asks, hand landing on your stomach.
“Mhmm,” you hum, catching your breath.
“I still can’t believe it. That we’re going to be parents.”
You place your hand on top of Eddie’s and rub your thumb into the back of it. It’s quiet for a moment, but then the two of you feel the baby moving inside of you and laugh.
“Guess he didn’t like all that movement,” you say, watching the way your stomach is pressed from the baby inside you.
“Sorry, bub,” Eddie says with a laugh, “Can’t help that your mom is hot.”
“Hey, thank you for coming!” You wrap your arms around Claudia and Dustin as they exit your house from the back door.
Today is the day of your baby shower and the backyard was already full of guests as they all pile in. Eddie was manning the grill, your brother and his wife talking him up as he cooked the dogs and burgers for everyone. Elanor and your nephews are running around with Bear while Nancy and Robin catch up. Steve and Mike were talking about cars the last you checked in on them. Max, Jane, Lucas and Will are helping set up some last minute decorations. And the band boys were chatting while they set the fire pit up for s’mores later.
“Thank you for inviting us. Here, I made these myself for the little one. There’s something in there for you, too.”
“Awe, thank you, Claudia. That’s so sweet.”
“I’ll take that,” Wayne says as he takes the bag from Mrs. Henderson.
“I helped pick out the colors, by the way,” Dustin says before he leaves to go join the boys at the fire pit.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Claudia asks.
“I feel surprisingly great. Other than my feet swelling in this heat, I don’t think I can complain. Well, besides the nightly gymnastics routine this one seems to want to do whenever I go to bed.”
Claudia laughs, “Yes, Dustin was the same way. It’s like they know when you’re trying to rest.”
“It really does!”
“Mrs. Henderson!” Steve calls out to her and Claudia excuses herself.
Wayne makes his way over to you. “Got an awfully full table of gifts over there,” he says.
“I know, I’m in shock. I knew people would get us stuff, but I didn’t think it would be so much. Hopefully we have room for everything.”
“We’ll make it fit, I promise ya that,” Wayne says with a chuckle.
He looks at you for a moment before leaning in.
“Can I tell ya a secret?”
You whip your head around, shocked to hear that Wayne wants to gossip with you.
“Uh, duh. Lay it on me.”
“Okay,” he starts, “See that girl your brother brought with him. I think you said that’s his wife’s sister?”
“Oh, Tenisha? Yeah she was one of my best friends growing up. She’s just really shy.”
“I can see that by the way she’s been keeping to herself. But, I’ve been watching everyone here, right? Well I think she’s been boring a hole into Harrington since he walked in the door.”
This revelation sparks your interest. Tenisha had a hard time branching out due to her introverted nature, so she didn’t have many boyfriends growing up. For a while you thought maybe she didn’t even like other people all that much.
But, this news was something you could work with.
“Good to know,” you say with coy smile, brain wracking with ways to introduce them.
The rest of the party showed up as time went on. Chrissy and Jason came with their kids, and you got to hold baby Jeremy while she talked your ear off. She even brought you a whole trunk load of old clothes from her boys that you’d be able to use for your baby.
Missy even showed up with her baby, little Henry junior. He looked a lot like Henry, so much that it was almost off putting to you, but you reminded yourself that this party was the celebrate your own baby with the man who loves you now.
“This is a really nice house,” Erica says to Eddie as you help pass out food and refreshments.
“Thanks, man. We’ve really put our all in making it our home these last few months.”
“I’m willing to bet that the missus did most of the decorating,” Jason chimes in.
“Obviously,” you say with a sarcastic tone. “I think the place would be covered with band posters and guitars if Eddie was in charge.”
“Hey, a few decorative guitars wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Grants says in Eddie’s defence.
“Thank you, Grant.”
“It’s going to feel even more like a home once the baby comes,” your brother says. “Don’t you think, Nish?”
Tenisha looks up from her plate like a deer caught in headlights. You want to scold your brother for calling her out, but you know he’s doing it because you told him about her eyes for Steve.
“Y-yes,” she says, voice small, and you’re proud that she was even able to get that much out. She stands still for a moment before suddenly beelining it for you.
“Where’s your bathroom?” She whispers to you. Just as you look toward the house, you notice Steve is heading in that same direction.
“Hey, Steve!”
He stops and looks around to where he heard his name being called, landing on you.
“Can you show Tenisha where the bathroom is?”
Tenisha’s eyes go wide, but you ignore it when Steve agrees and beckons her over. You watch as she wordlessly makes her way over to him.
“Hi, I’m Steve. I don’t think we’ve met,” he says as he follows behind her into the house.
You look around for Wayne to see if he saw your quick move and you found him already looking your way, giving you a thumbs up.
The rest of the party went off without a hitch. Games were played, all the gifts were opened, and you even got to have some cake that Eddie had custom made for the occasion. And, much to your delight, Steve essentially stuck by Tenisha’s side the rest of the night, talking to her about god knows what. She seemed not to mind though, a smile on her face the whole time.
You felt like you were about to burst. People had been chatting you up for over an hour at this point and you were starting to have to go every 30 minutes or so it seemed. When you finally had the chance to excuse yourself, you all but sprinted to the rest room.
Once you relieved yourself, you went to wipe, but thought you felt a strange texture when you did. You decided to check the toilet paper, only to be met with the sight of bright red blood.
Your heart sank at the sight. Getting up you checked your underwear and found nothing there, so it hadn’t been bad enough to spread. But still, you were only 36 weeks at this point, still a whole month out from when the baby was supposed to come. This shouldn’t be happening.
“Eddie,” you say out of instinct. “Eddie!”
You run out to the backyard and find your husband talking with his uncle by the fire. He looks over at you and waves, unable to see you clearly from where you were at the back door.
“Eddie!” The urgency in your voice caught his attention and he immediately popped up from his chair and came trotting to you.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Eddie, I’m bleeding.”
“W-what? That’s not supposed to happen now is it?”
You shook your head and Eddie immediately started to panic.
“Uncle Wayne!”
Wayne jumped up from his chair and ran over to where you two were standing.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“She’s bleeding.”
“Bleedin’! Well that doesn’t sound right. You oughta go to the emergency room. Now. I’ll get everyone going.”
You both nod and Eddie takes you by the hand, grabbing his keys off the counter as you enter the house. He barely lets you grab your purse before he’s pulling you into the car and peeling out of the driveway.
Once you get to the hospital, they take you back right away and get you hooked up to a monitor to listen to your baby’s heart beat. There was a sigh of relief when it was strong enough that it could be easily found by the nurse helping you. They ran some tests on you and did a quick check to see if you were dilated at all.
“Nothing yet,” the doctor says. “Not abnormal for you to not be dilated at this point. Have you had any contractions?”
“No, not yet. Should I be?” You ask with concern.
“Not necessarily. Sometimes women experience what feel like contractions at this point, but you’ll know the real thing when the time comes.”
“Why would she be bleeding right now if the baby wasn’t coming?” Eddie asks, hand clasped with yours.
“Well,” the doctor starts, “There are several possibilities, but it’s hard to say for sure. We’ll probably keep you here for monitoring for a few days just to make sure we don’t need to start the delivery process early.”
“Start it early? Will that hurt the baby?” You ask.
“Not at this point. We consider the baby developed enough at this point that delivery is a safe enough option for you. We would just give you a shot of steroids before hand to help with the development of the baby’s lungs before hand. But, for now, we think that you should get some rest.”
The doctor leaves the room and you and Eddie are left there to listen to the sound of your baby’s heart beating. Eddie’s grasp on your hand tightens, and for a moment you think that he might have started crying. You look up at him and are surprised to find that he’s actually laughing.
“Why are you laughing right now?”
“Because,” he raises his head to look at you, “Only my kid would try and pull something like this the day of his party. I always used to ruin my birthday parties because I would get so excited to get gifts.”
That did make you laugh. Which apparently made your son mad because you felt him kicking you, leaving you to sigh in relief. At least he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Though, you were not looking forward to staying in the hospital for a couple days.
“Do you think I’ll be out in time for Monday?”
Eddie looks at you in disbelief. “I don’t think your students are going to mind a substitute for a couple days while you’re in here.”
“I know, I just don’t want to leave them with a bunch of work to do. I’ve been slacking a bit these last couple weeks.”
“I’ll grade the damn papers myself if it means you’ll relax for a couple days,”
“Oh, god, we wouldn’t want that,” you laugh.
You got to go home on Tuesday. It felt cooler out compared to Saturday, so Eddie brought you a sweater to the hospital to keep you warm. The fabric was tight over your large stomach as you walked out into the late September air.
The bleeding eventually stopped on its own and the doctors decided it would be best to let you go home and finish out the rest of your pregnancy. Which you were relieved to hear because that bed was super uncomfortable.
“I just want to go home and take a nice long shower,” you say from the passenger seat. “Then maybe a good nap.”
“Whatever you need, princess. I know that was rough on you,” Eddie says with a hand in yours as he drives.
“It was rough on you, too. I know you were mad they wouldn’t let you stay.”
“They better let me stay when the baby is born. I’ll stand outside the hospital all night if they don’t.”
“They will, Eddie. We already asked, remember?”
“I know. But what if they find out I’m a felon and change their minds?” You can hear the concern in his voice.
“Eddie, they don’t care. Just don’t do anything stupid and there won’t be a problem.”
Eddie scoffs, “You think I would do something stupid?”
“Of course not,” you laugh, “I’m just saying is all.”
Eddie turns into the drive way and cuts the engine. He hops out from the driver side and runs around the car to open your door for you, lending you a hand to help you out of the car.
The two of you enter the house and you immediately head to your baby’s room. It’s filled to the brim with all the gifts you received still needing to be put away from your shower. The need to nest kicks in and you enter the room.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Eddie says, watching you as you start to fold some of the baby clothes.
“It’s a mess in here,” you say, placing a blue nighty into the dresser drawer. “We need to clean up.”
“We can do that later.” Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind and you let out a whine.
“But what if the baby comes tomorrow? He’s going to think we’re slobs!”
Eddie turns you around to face him, holding you with a hand on each arm.
“Later, sweetheart. Let’s get you in the shower and down for a nap first.”
You let out a sigh but ultimately give in.
“Aren’t you due today?” Will suddenly says between bites of his salad. The two of you had a shared lunch and had been spending it together since the beginning of the school year.
“Technically I was due Tuesday,” you say after a long chug of water, “But he doesn’t seem to be ready to come out yet.”
“Have you been feeling anything yet? Like the labor pains?” He asks.
“I’ve had a few contractions but nothing too major. The doctor said it’s normal for babies not to come on their due dates, but I’m ready for him to be out of me now.”
You rub your huge bump. It didn’t seem possible that you were this pregnant. You hadn’t seen your feet properly in weeks, but you certainly can feel them aching. The back pain was out of this world, and all you wanted to do was sit down. But at this paint sitting didn’t seem to be much relief either.
“I’m sure you are. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like.”
“It feels like I’m carrying a 30 pound boulder in my stomach is what it feels like,” you laugh.
But the laugh is cut short by a sharp pain in your lower stomach. Another contraction was hitting you today and this one took your breath away. You hiss, bending slightly as you try your best to work through it. But this one was lasting a lot longer than the others.
Will jumps up from his seat. “Are you okay?” He asks as he hovers over you, hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah, just,” you blow out air from your mouth, “This one just really hurts.”
“Shit, is it time?”
“I…I don’t know.”
You couldn’t say no for sure with how this one was feeling. Was it time?
“Do you want me to call Eddie?” Will says before walking over to the phone.
“No, no it’s starting to stop now,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll keep an eye on the time and if it gets worse then I’ll call him.”
“Maybe you should go home, just in case,” Will says with concern.
“I think I’ll be okay.”
But you were not okay. After the third contraction, you decided to call Principal Higgins and let him know what was going on. He told you he would take over your class and that you should go home for the day.
“Hawkin’s Auto Body, this is Sarah speaking.”
“Hi Sarah, is Eddie available?”
“Oh, hey! Yeah, let me go get him!” The receptionist put you on hold and you felt another contraction hit. They were starting to become close together, around 8 minutes apart.
“Babe?” You hear from the other side of the line.
“Eddie, I think it’s time,” you say through gritted teeth.
“What? Really? Where are you?” His tone is frantic and you hear some crashing noises.
“I’m at work. I’m having contractions.” You whine as the feeling grows stronger in your pelvis.
“Oh my god, okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. We’ll take your car, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”
After you hung up with Eddie, you braced the cold October air and made your way to your car. You turned it on and sat in the passenger seat while you waited.
Looking in the rear view mirror, you can see the car seat installed in the back seat for this exact occasion. Eddie was smart to put it back there in case the baby came earlier. Ever since your hospital trip, he’d been on top of everything when it came to the baby’s arrival. He helped you decorate, took you shopping for any last minute items you needed, and even prepared a hospital bag for you that sat in your trunk.
It didn’t take long for Eddie you whip into the school parking lot. He found your car and made quick effort to find the nearest spot to park. After he killed the engine, he booked it to your car and hopped in the driver seat.
“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked before buckling his seatbelt.
“At the moment, yeah. But the contractions are getting closer and closer together as time goes by. I’m due for another any minute.”
“Well, lets’s get going then, momma,” he says, shifting into gear and pulling away.
Eddie got you to the hospital in record time. They wheeled you in, mid contraction as they took you immediately to a laboring room. Everything was a blur as they got you in a gown and prepped you to be checked. When the doctor came in, the first thing he did was check to see how dilated you were.
“You’re already at 4 centimeters,” he said as he pulled his hand away. “I’m surprised you hadn’t come in sooner.”
“She was being stubborn,” Eddie said. He was upset that you had gone on having contractions for so long without calling him sooner.
“I was at work. I didn’t know it was going to get this bad--ooooh!” Another contraction.
“Well good news is that once you get to 5 centimeters things tend to go faster, so you shouldn’t be in labor for too much longer. Did you want to get an epidural?”
“God, anything to help with these pains,” you moan as the contraction wracks through your body. It felt like all your muscles from the waist down were tightening all at once. You were starting to sweat from the pain.
“That looks like fun,” Eddie says as he sips from his little cup of water.
You were bouncing on the exercise ball that the hospital provided for you to try and speed up the labor. The epidural kicked in and though your legs felt funny, the pain had subsided greatly. You still felt the contractions but they weren’t nearly as debilitating as they had been all day.
“It feels like a work out, but I think it’s helping.”
“I’m so excited,” Eddie says before walking over to you, both his hands out for you to take. You place your hands in his and do your best to stand, stepping closer to him until your belly touched his. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.
“I am, too. Insanely nervous, but excited.”
Suddenly you felt a sharp pain between your legs. The sound of water hitting the floor took you by surprise. You felt like you needed to sit down so you reached back for the bed and sat on the edge.
“Shit, babe, I think your water broke!” Eddie ran to the door and yelled out for a nurse to come to your room.
Shit, was this really happening?
Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The nurses and doctor entered the room and it was clear that it was go time. They got you in position on the bed and you could feel something happening between your legs.
“I see the head!” One of the nurses shouted.
“Push, momma push!”
“Oh my god.”
Eddie was shaking beside you. You could feel the trembling in his hand as he held yours. But you didn’t have time to focus on him as you put all your effort into pushing.
You squeezed his hand tight as you did your best to push, feeling the pressure building as you do.
“Yes, keep going! He’s starting to come out!”
“You got this, sweetheart,” you hear Eddie say shakily.
“One more good push!”
You put all your strength into pushing. It was the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. There was so much pressure building up and then—
The sound of cries.
You opened your eyes and he was there. The nurses held him as the little baby covered in goo and fluids…was crying.
“It’s a healthy baby boy!”
“Hellooo!”
The sound of Wayne’s voice echoed in the room. He took a step in and Eddie waved him inside.
“Come on in, Grandpa,” Eddie says from his seat next to you. Wayne mozies into the room, a vase full of flowers in hand.
“I brought these for the lovely new momma,” he says, setting them down on your bedside table.
“Thank you, Uncle Wayne,” you say, admiring the flowers.
“Is that my little man over there?” He asks, moving closer to the bed.
You take the bundle in your arms and turn him to face Wayne. “Oh my god,” Wayne’s hand comes to his mouth as he cracks the widest smile.
“Do you want to hold him?” You ask, lifting your son a bit towards him.
“Can I?” Wayne asks, stretching his arms out. You make the slow exchange and Wayne just absolutely lights up. “Wow, I can’t believe it.”
“I know, it’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie says, standing up to walk over to them.
“I’m sorry ta break it to ya, sweet girl, but this boy is all his daddy,” Wayne says with a chuckle.
“Wait until you see his hair,” Eddie says, gently pulling the little cap off of his sons head to reveal small poodle like curls underneath.
“Oh boy, we’re really gonna be in for it with you, ain’t we?” Wayne asks your son. “Your daddy’s gonna get all the karma from how he was as a kid.”
“All I know is he’s going to get away with murder when it comes to her.” Eddie says nodding to you.
“Is that so? That in love already, huh?”
You nod your head. It was true. As soon as the nurses laid him against your chest you felt that immediately wave of love come over you for your little one. He might as well have hung the moon and stars because he was perfect in your eyes. You weren’t even mad he looked exactly like Eddie. Quite the opposite. Your head swirled with all the trouble that the two of them were going to get to. And they would get away with it by batting their big brown eyes at you.
“Did ya come up with a name for him yet?”
This question made you look to Eddie. You’d been telling everyone that you weren’t sure what name you were going to come up with, but the truth was that you had a name for the baby all along.
“As a matter of fact, we did,” Eddie says walking over to the bed side bassinet. He pushed it over to Wayne, turning it so that the name card was visible to him.
Wayne stepped closer, leaning in to see the name without his glasses.
“Wayne…Wayne Lee Munson. Well…that,” Wayne’s body shook with a sob, “that’s my name.”
“And we thought it would be the perfect name for the next Munson.”
“Ed…” Wayne started to cry. He held your son close and wept. “Little Wayne Munson. Has a nice ring to it.”
“Well look at that little man there. He looks jus like you, don’t he?” Al Munson’s voice rang through the other side of the phone’s receiver. It wasn’t how you wanted to meet your future father in law, but you knew this visit meant a lot to Eddie so you went along with it.
He told you his dad wasn’t a violent man, but he sure looked like it. Eddie looked so much like him, down to the way they both hunched over a bit when they sit. It was almost scary to think about what Eddie could have become if he hadn’t gotten out of prison when he did.
“I’m glad you guys came out,” Al says, “Was worried I wouldn’t get to see ‘em til he’s ten.”
“We’re glad to be able to make it. I’m sure you’re excited to meet him.”
“And the misses, too. Eddie’s told me a lot about you in his letters.”
“Hopefully all good things,” you say into the receiver that’s between yours and Eddie’s head. Al laughs, and it sounds like a raspier version of Eddie’s.
“Oh, yeah. You’re gonna make a great Munson. Wish I could be there to see it.”
“I wish you could, too, dad.”
“We’ll make sure you get lots of pictures.”
“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it,” Al says, leaning into the glass. “Lemme get a better look at’em.”
Eddie moved the phone to his ear as you reposition, standing slightly so you can show off your baby. You watch as his lips move but can’t hear what he’s saying.
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. I feel bad for her because you know how I was as a kid…Yep, Wayne said the same thing.”
Al’s hand touches the glass near where you’re son is. It makes you feel for him. A man stuck in a cage, just outside of reach of what he wants.
“Okay, old on,” Eddie says holding the phone out to you. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, really? Okay.” You swap with Eddie, handing Wayne to him and taking the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey there, darlin’,” Wayne says. “Just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
You felt your stomach turn. Was he going to grill you on if you were good enough for his son?
“Now, I won’t say anything, and you can give me simple answers if you want. But I want you to answer truthfully.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, is my boy treating you right? He’s not been hittin’ on you or anything?”
The line of questioning took you by total surprise.
“Oh my god, no,” you say shaking your head. “Eddie is the sweetest man I’ve ever met in my life.”
Al smiles the same as Eddie.
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, he’s been pullin’ his weight around the house, too, right?”
“Absolutely,” you assure him.
“Good, good. Been helpin’ with the little one?”
“Yes, more than I ever could have asked for.”
Eddie was made for fatherhood. Even at his most tired, he still does whatever he can with Wayne. Changes him, helps bathe him, cleans up so you can feed him. He cooks and cleans. Any little thing you ask he does without a single complaint.
“Wonderful. Eddie’s a tough one, so but I’m glad to see he has a soft side to ‘em. If he ever gets outta line, you just go ahead and give me a call, got it? I got some people on the outside who will set him straight for ya.”
“I don’t think I’ll need to, but I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.
“Alright, darlin’, go ahead and give me back to Ed.”
You hand the phone back over to Eddie and do another swap with Wayne.
“What the hell did you ask her, old man?”
Al laughs on the other side of the glass. You let the two of them talk it out for the rest of the visit. You weren’t sure the next time you three would be able to make it out to see him, so you made sure to say your goodbyes before leaving.
The house is warm and filled with the smell of food cooking from the kitchen. As you do your best to prep, Eddie is sitting snugly on the couch holding baby Wayne in his arms. They’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on the tv; well, Eddie is narrating everything for Wayne. But Wayne seems to love listening to Eddie talk, starting up at him with those big brown eyes that you love so much.
“Don’t look now, but I think we’re being watched,” Eddie says to Wayne, pointing at you.
“I can’t help it, you guys are just so cute.”
You’re about to check on the food again when you hear a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Eddie shouts from the couch.
The door opens and begins to fill with familiar faces. Dustin and Lucas enter first, bickering about god knows what, followed by Mike, Jane, Max and Will who look fed up at the former two.
“Hey guys!” You say as you approach, offering to take coats as they come in. Eddie stands up from the couch and walks over to Dustin and Lucas.
“Whatever you guys are going on about can end now,” Eddie says as he hands the baby to Lucas, “and you can hold this one while I go take a piss.”
“I’ll take that, thank you,” Max says as she slips between Dustin and Lucas, taking your son in her arms and walking away. “Awe aren’t you just the cutest!”
“Hey, he was handing him to me,” Lucas says with a scoff.
“You’ll have your turn later, Auntie Max needs her baby time now.”
Lucas pauses for a moment before leaning into Dustin.
“She looks pretty cute with a baby, doesn’t she?”
Dustin elbows Lucas, “Make your own then, sheesh.”
“Can I see him?” Jane says as she walks up to Max, who shows him off to her.
“He seriously is so cute.” Max says, lightly bouncing Wayne in her arms.
“Thanks, I think so, too,” you chuckle.
Another knock at the door takes your attention away from the girls for a moment. You shout for them to come in and the door opens to reveal Steve and Robin with two handfuls of gifts.
“Oh my god, let me take those,” you say rushing over to them. “What is all this stuff?”
“It’s for the baby, duh,” Robin says, handing you some of the stuff from her hands.
“All of this is for Wayne?”
“Not all of it,” Steve says, making his way to your tree to set his gifts down. “There’s more in the car.”
“You guys are ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head.
“Woah, Santa came early,” Eddie says as he rounds the corner. He walks over to Robin to take the rest of the gifts and joins Steve by the tree.
“We said we were going to spoil him,” Robin says with a shrug.
Suddenly something small runs into the house, past you and onto Mike’s leg.
“Woah!”
“Uncwel Mikey!” Elanor squeals.
“Is this where the party is?” Jonathan says as he enters the house, followed by Nancy and baby Amelia.
“It smells so good in here,” Nancy says as she gives you a side hug.
“Thank you! You guys didn’t have to bring anything,” you say, eyeing the tin of cookies that Jonathan was holding.
“It was nothing. I was in a baking mood, so those aren’t the actual cookies that are in there.”
“Well come on in and set them in the kitchen. I need to check on everything anyway.”
Nancy and the baby follow you inside to the kitchen, Jonathan hot on her heels. “I’ll be back for you,” she says when she passes Max holding baby Wayne.
As you enter the kitchen, the timer for the turkey goes off. You grab your oven mitts and pull it out of the oven, prepping the thermometer to check that it’s cooked all the way.
“Wow, you made a whole turkey?” Nancy says impressed.
“I wanted there to be enough for everyone” you say, reading the temperature, “and it was cheaper than a ham. Got it on sale actually!”
“Looks good!” Jonathan says, setting the cookies on the table.
“Holy shit, Steve she made a turkey!” Robin yells from the kitchen doorway.
“I thought she didn’t know how to cook?!” Steve shouts from the living room.
“I’ve picked up a few things being a housewife, Steve!” You shout back at him.
“Hows motherhood treating you?” Nancy asks, moving to stand next to you.
“Honestly,” you start, “it’s been a crazy ride.” You pause for a moment, thinking about all the sleepless nights and endless feedings. But you think about your sweet baby and the man who has been helping you make it all possible and sigh. “But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“I know what you mean,” she says bouncing Amelia on her hip. “It’ll get harder when you have another, but it really is worth it.”
Another? You hadn’t really thought about having another baby just yet. You were still in the throws of first time motherhood that you barely had time to think about anything else. But, who knows, maybe you’ll have another. One day at a time.
You hear a commotion from the living room and assume the rest of the boys have arrived when you hear their collective voices.
“There’s my man,” you hear Jeff say.
“God, he looks just like you, Eddie,” Grant says, making you smile.
“Yeah, I apologize to her for it every day,” Eddie says with a laugh.
Nancy and Robin help you finish everything up in the kitchen while the rest of the party is entertained by your son in the living room. They all take their turns holding him until he ultimately started crying and needed his momma.
“Alright, dinner is ready, everyone,��� you say from the doorway. Walking over to Steve, who was currently holding Wayne, you extend your hands to take the crying baby.
“Shh, it’s alright, mommy is here,” he says, gently bouncing Wayne in his arms.
“Damn, you’re a natural, Steve,” you say as you take Wayne from him.
“You think so,” he says standing up from the couch. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” you say with a sly smile, “How are things going with Tenisha?”
“Great!” He says, clapping his hands together excitedly. “The long distance sucks, but Robin and I are going to drive out to see her for new years.”
“That sounds like it’ll be a good time!” You say and he nods. Wayne lets out another cry and you’re reminded that it’s time to feed him. “Go and get some food, I gotta feed the little one.”
You walk back into the bedroom and let Wayne nurse for a bit, calming him down instantly. A few minutes go by and you hear a knock on the door.
“I’m not decent,” you shout to the door.
“It’s just me,” you hear Eddie say as the door begins to open, him shuffling inside with a plate in his hand. “I brought you something to snack on while you’re in here.” It was more than just a snack. Eddie had made you a whole plate and brought it to you.
“Awe, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I did,” he says with a chuckle. “Or else there might not have been anything left for you by the time you were done.”
“So everyone likes the food?” You ask with a bit of hope in your voice. Eddie nods, and you sigh with relief. “Thank god.”
“It’s honestly really good,” Eddie says bringing a roll to your mouth. You take a bite and had to admit he was right.
“Eddie,” you say in a wobbly tone, feeling tears starting to well in your eyes.
“Yes, my love?” He says turning to look at you.
“Thank you so much,” you say with a sniffle.
“The roll was that good?” He asks with a laugh.
You shake your head, “No, no, I mean…Just thank you. For everything. I’ve never felt so complete in my whole life and it’s all thanks to you.”
Eddie goes to open his mouth to say something, but closes it. He suddenly sits up from the bed, walking over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulls out a piece of paper and looks it over before holding it to his chest.
Walking back, he plops back on the bed and clears his throat. “Um, this is something I’ve been working on for a while,” he says fidgeting with the paper. You look at it, then back to him. It was covered in his sloppy hand writing and you were instantly brought back to all the letters you’ve shared between the two of you. The ones that brought you together.
“It was originally going to be my wedding vows to you, but it’s gotten so long that I don’t think anyone is going to want to sit and listen to me while I talk on and on. So I just…I guess I’m ready to share it with you now.”
“Okay,” you say barely above a whisper, extremely intrigued as to what he has to say.
“Alright, here it goes,” Eddie says clearing his throat again.
“To my future wife,
It’s always going to be hard to put into words exactly how you make me feel. I could write poetry, could write you a song, could buy a plane and fly the words across the sky. But none of that will ever be enough. So I’ll do what I do best and write you this letter.
Not a day has gone by since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I was still locked up, the thought of you played on my mind a lot. To me, I felt an instant connection with you. It might not have been love at first, but I knew that you were going to mean something to me. With every passing letter that turned into phone calls, that turned into us meeting for the first time, I only realized that you were put into my life for a reason. And that reason has become clearer with every day that I get to spend waking up next to you and being blessed by a God I don’t believe in with the grace of your smile.
Now that I have you in my life, I don’t think I can ever imagine a life without you in it. I want to spend every possible moment with you that I can, even the bad ones. I can’t wait until the day we’re old and grey and sitting in our rocking chairs on the front porch while we watch the sun go down. Because then I’ll know that I have lived a full, one by your side.
Now that we’re going to be parents, which I still can’t believe, I want to make sure that I’m there for you no matter what. We probably won’t get married until after the baby is born, but I hope you know that we don’t have to do things the traditional way. I’ve never been normal, but I think you know that by now. So lets just do things how we want to from here on out.”
“This last part I wrote recently,” he says, pointing at the paper, avoiding looking at you.
“Wow, I really can’t believe we’ve earned the title of mom and dad already. Nothing could have prepared me for first time parenthood, but I’m glad I have you by my side to go through it. You’ve been nothing short of amazing as a mom and I couldn’t be more proud of you. I think Wayne has been the missing puzzle piece that we didn’t even know we needed in our lives. He rounds out our family in such a positive way that I sometimes feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s how too good to be true my life with you feels. I don’t know what the future holds, but no matter what happens, I know that you and I will be able to work it together as a team.
I guess I should wrap this up and give it to you before Wayne goes to college. Just know I love you so much and I always will. Never forget that, my love.”
Eddie turned to look at you, not even surprised to see the mess you’d become. Tears streaked your cheeks and you were holding in a sob that kept trying to escape.
“E-Eddie…” you say, leaning into him, finally letting it out with a little cry. “That was so sweet. I don’t even know what to say.”
Eddie kisses the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.
“You don’t have to say anything. I already know how you feel. You make sure I know it every day. This is just my own way of saying thank you.”
You held your baby tight in your arms, suddenly overwhelmed at the life you’d been given. The man next to you loved you and you loved him. You were going to get married and spend the rest of your days together. As a family.
thank you all so much for reading!
#eddie munson#on the outside#inmate!eddie munson#inmate!eddie munson x reader#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson st#eddie munson stranger things
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TheWrap: What would this potential Tarlos series have been about?
Rashad Raisani: I had been desperately trying to get some steam going for a Tarlos thing with the Texas Rangers, and it just couldn’t quite get the corporate liftoff. In my mind, if Carlos got stationed in a new city in Texas as a Texas Ranger, and TK and Jonah went to El Paso, or went to some other city, and just tell a new story that way.
Why didn’t it happen?
It was because of the same issues that plagued “Lone Star,” meaning that we had a different network partner than a studio partner. And even though we’d all started under the same roof, by the end of the series, we were a child of divorce, and that was just a recurrent obstacle.
If you put it to a public vote, I’m pretty sure a Tarlos spin off would do really well.
Never say never. I pushed and pushed, and I’m not done pushing. I still believe in it very much.
And the actors would be down for that, potentially?
While they’re available. These guys are pretty successful, so I’m sure there’s a lot of people running to get them on their shows and movies. I think creatively, they were passionate about it. But the longer it goes, the harder it would be to to get them while they’re still available . I absolutely would love to be writing this. I love those actors. They’re like my little brothers. I would love to keep it going.
With Owen going to New York, was there ever a plan for New York to be the setting for the new spin-off?
When I was pitching it to Rob, I just said, “Look the beautiful thing about that is, one, it’s completely true to who he is. Two, it’s the biggest job there is in firefighting in America. And three, if there’s ever a spinoff in New York, they have to go through you, my friend.” He’s like, “Let’s do it.” He was loving the idea of New York. Certainly, if something goes through New York, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have Captain Strand up there
Could we see “Lone Star” characters on any of the other “9-1-1” series after this?
Part of the reason why I wanted them all to be standing at the end of the series was if, God willing, there’s some way to get one of them to LA for the 118 or the new city, we could still have Captain Judd, or we could have Mateo or Nancy could visit or whoever. I really would love that. I just don’t feel done talking. having these people talk, I love hearing all of their voices.
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JRWI fans, tell me if this is something that makes sense to you: I think Dakota Cole is the first superhero in a VERY long time to feel like an actual superhero.
⚠️Spoilers ahead for both seasons of Prime Defenders, if you haven’t finished it already, what are you doing here?! Go watch it!!⚠️
I think Grizzly did a phenomenal job in his research of superhero media before making Dakota, and that research really paid off for how real Dakota feels as not just a hero, but as a person. Season 1 made me fall in love with the characters and the story, but as an avid Marvel skeptic, season 2 made me believe in the superhero genre again.
I’ve talked about my disdain for modern superhero movies before, but to condense it, I feel like they don’t really feel like HEROES as much as “the lesser of two evils in a fight that’s destroying a city.” A lot of modern heroes feel too gritty and gloomy, not the symbols of hope they’re meant to be, but only focusing on the reluctance of their position.
Dakota Cole’s story is different to me: we’re able to see all sides of it, the good and the bad, and spend enough time in those moments to feel what he feels. His story feels so perfect to the Hero’s Journey, both in what we start out with and what we learn along the way.
First and foremost, I’m grateful to see heroes that WANT to be heroes again, not just to save one person or some moral obligation, but for the sake of wanting to do good and help others. Prime Defenders as a whole is such a breath of fresh air in the superhero genre for its message, and it gets to the heart of what makes superhero movies good. It feels, for lack of a better word, colorful. In a world of low light and gritty heroes making hard decisions, we get moments like the fight for New Haven where the heroes came together with the sword to defeat the planet, or the showdown with Powerhouse, while we get silly moments like the Wasp Vs Bee debate or the chaos portal in the Winnebago. That doesn’t mean we don’t get dark or gritty scenes, of course- I’m still deeply impacted by Ashe’s sacrifice to save everyone, William’s spiral with his brother, and (most relevant to this rant) Dakota’s surgery. But because we got to see the whimsy and the heart behind the heroes, it just made all of those moments so much more impactful.
Dakota Cole, though, feels to me like the result of dissecting the superhero genre and finding what makes it so appealing and meaningful to people. He is, upon first glance, hopeful and confident, optimistic perhaps to a fault, and wants to see the best in people and bring out that goodness. He starts with a very rigid view of what good and evil is, but as his mindset shifts, we see him open up to other ideas of what goodness means to him.
You’d think this would immediately fall apart when he goes through the heartbreak and disillusionment of losing someone to a villain, and that’s what we see with Ashe’s loss in season 1. He is clearly devastated by the loss, but is the first to believe that they can bring him back. He even says it as some of his last words to Ashe before he becomes The Trickster- “Don’t forget that you have somewhere to come back to.” After the loss, though, he’s only more motivated to save his friend. He goes to train and get stronger, and is the one to suggest getting him back. Throughout season 2, as well, we see the backstory that had been set up throughout season 1 come back to the front, and how it impacts him not only as a hero, but as a regular person. His love for his aunt, his attitude towards others, his willingness to sacrifice…
The first thing that he did for himself, in my opinion, was the heart surgery to keep himself alive, and even that wasn’t all for him; it was largely to help William rather than just staying alive. But he was so desperate to help others that he found the thing he needed to learn most in order to be the hero the world needed: patience. His heart surgery and subsequent training with Master Cole taught him the patience he needed to put his abilities to use.
But I think what his training arc taught him best outside of patience- the lesson that stuck with me the most- was that it is okay to ask for help. In fact, one of the quotes that still sticks with me is the quote from Master Cole: “Sometimes, we can’t carry the weight of the world alone.” He spent two seasons up until this point trying to carry every burden on his own, but this was a turning point for him. He realized that he has a team for a reason, and that he doesn’t have to protect them, and that allowing them to help him will make everyone stronger.
In my opinion, Dakota had the most personal growth out of the Prime Defenders from S1E1 to S2E40. He lost a lot of the innocence and pure optimism he had before, but the wisdom and patience he gained from it turned his passion for saving people and his genuine desire to do good into a more productive and successful energy that could save more lives than before. Sure, he had his silly moments- the consistent Fortnite jokes during his training arc, the goofiness of creating The Purps, etc. But his humor served to deepen his character, and the balance of genuine care and compassion for others with the humor and the struggles he faced (and still faces) just make him such a deep character.
He’s a silly goofy guy and he is one of the best written characters in modern hero stories.
#machtalks#jrwi#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi thoughts#dakota cole#jrwi dakota#jrwi dakota cole#grizzlyplays#dakota cole you will always be famous#this show never fails to make me cry#machtalksjrwi
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'the newsreader' season 3 and bpd rep
note: major spoilers ahead. trigger warning for mentions of self-harm, suicide, and substance abuse.
you don't see a lot of fictional characters with canonical bpd diagnoses in media. the illness is usually ascribed to one-off villains in crime dramas, or in the case of movies like girl, interrupted (1999), largely romanticized. a recent exception was rebecca bunch from the tv series crazy ex-girlfriend (2015-2019), who embarks on a profound journey from diagnosis through treatment and healing amidst the show's musical backdrop.
when i started watching the newsreader last year, i picked up on a lot of borderline traits in helen norville. i related to her mood swings, her protective measures to prevent abandonment, and her difficulty identifying, describing, or regulating her feelings. from there i sort of decided in my head that she had bpd, without the canon confirmation. this is nothing new for me--as someone with the disorder, i'm always quick to catch these traits and run with them, since i rarely see canonical representation of the illness. over the years, i've "headcanoned" fictional characters like david rose, ed teach, and bojack horseman with bpd, among others.
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when helen starts seeing a therapist in the first half of the newsreader's final season, the therapist, marcia, recommends that helen take in her surroundings and employ breath work during times of stress. i clocked this right away as a mindfulness DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) skill, but figured given the show's 1989 setting, they probably wouldn't "go there."
but sure enough, i watched helen go to the library, look up her therapist's treatment methods. i saw her burst into marcia's office talking about how the disease is incurable: "it's for manipulative, vindictive, narcissistic, promiscuous, hysterical people. and apparently there's no fսcking treatment for it" (3x03). but DBT is an experimental new treatment, marcia says, and it's been met with much success thus far. finally, she says aloud what i'd been thinking: helen meets the criteria for bpd.
helen storms out of the room, tries to escape her reality with alcohol and valium. she's sent out of the newsroom and isolates herself at home. i watched all this unfold onscreen in disbelief, an uneasy lump settling somewhere deep in my stomach because as surprised as i was to see the words--borderline personality disorder--utttered onscreen, i understood, painfully, what helen was going through.
i was diagnosed with borderline in 2018. by that time, i had been exhibiting self-harm behaviors on-and-off since about 2014. i went through periods of extreme, bone-crushing sadness followed by numbness. i oscillated between flippant communications and desperate pleas for validation with those close to me. several textbook characteristics for borderline.
my therapist told me, "don't look it up online," but of course i did, ducking into the office restroom after our session for an immediate google search. i was inundated with exactly the material helen must've seen, if in a different format: bpd is the hardest mental health disorder to treat; many therapists won't even treat folks with bpd; people with bpd are statistically more likely to attempt suicide. there were online listings for a book frustratingly, reductively called i hate you, don't leave me, the only major popularized work on the illness.
these are all things i read on a first-page search many years after the setting of the newsreader. fortunately, a quick search in 2025 looks different, featuring many landing pages on psychiatry websites focused on debunking myths about the illness.
but in 2018, at the age of twenty-five, i thought: this is it for me. it's all fallen into place. i'm broken, i'm broken, i can't be fixed.
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when helen's former-lover-always-best-friend dale jennings comes to check on helen later on in the episode, what plays out is one of the most beautiful, raw, and validating scenes for someone with the illness to witness.
we watch helen go through the intense back-and-forth of processing her feelings in real time:
i've been seeing this woman, this, um, this therapist, dale, and she's been really good. she's been really good. she's given me, like, all of these kind of, um, ways to...to handle, um, stuff. and then today she said, um, that i... that... that i just am fսckеd. [...] and it's not like, um...like a, um...it's not like i'm sick. it's just my personality. [sobs]
... blaming dale ...
she said it's a personality disorder, and it's...and it's true, you know? it's just true. and...and, i mean, you must have seen it. [...] why wouldn't you say? you're the only person who's ever told me the truth, why wouldn't you tell me? why wouldn't you tell me?
... and then blaming herself.
i could have done something about it. i could have fixed it. i could have done something about it. and now there's no one! [...] i even fucked up with you, my fucking family, and now my fucking job.
i can't overstate the sheer vulnerability displayed by anna torv in this scene. it's a highly realistic portrayal of an initial reaction to getting this diagnosis. there's the instinct to prescribe yourself with inherent wrongness, to cast a cloud of villainy over your whole life to this point.
it's dale's response that seals the deal for me in terms of marking this an effective, empathetic portrayal of bpd onscreen.
"it's called borderline personality disorder, apparently," helen says, "did you see that?" in other words: did you see that in me? and if so, why are you still here?
dale just looks at her and says, "all i see is you."
to hear a character say that to a person with a confirmed bpd diagnosis is frankly revolutionary for television, even in media's generally progressive view of mental illness today. dale sees helen for all she is and still loves her. with the stigma that still exists around bpd, i don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that many folks with bpd would give anything to hear those words.
"all i see is you," dale says, "and i don't think it makes a difference. do you feel different?"
and what a question. this brings things into perspective for helen, and perhaps even for the viewer. this diagnosis doesn't change anything about what came before, or who helen is as a person--namely an inspiring, hardworking journalist and a loyal partner and friend. now she just has a name for the strong emotions that color her world. and with that name comes the power to learn, to grasp, to move forward and heal.
in the months following my diagnosis, as i started working on DBT individually and in a group setting, i slowly began to accept this part of myself. i called it by name, and i told it to the world. it reframes a lot of my behavior, past and present. it's helped me put terms to my emotions and how to handle them. and yet it's not all of me.
so, after the diagnosis, do you feel different? helen's answer is mine, too:
"no," she replies after a bout of surprised laughter, "i fucking don't."
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after her diagnosis, it's clear helen doesn't take to therapy or DBT right away. she's suspicious, stubborn, and in denial about her path forward.
in 3x04, helen challenges marcia in any way she can, saying her fast-paced career doesn't allow for skill work, and summing up the study of DBT skills as "infantile checklists." marcia stands her professional ground, though: "if there were a pill that treated borderline, you would have it, but there isn't. this therapy requires your full engagement. you know what the alternative is." by the end of the scene, helen reluctantly begins trying again to work with her therapist, ranking different DBT skills and their effectiveness in her day to day.
again, i'm struck by the realism in this portrayal. the show references actual DBT skills with care and detail, despite the newness of the method in 1989. there are four major modules--mindfulness, emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and interpersonal effectiveness--and within them myriad terms and exercises pioneered by psychologist marsha m. linehan. several are referenced throughout the season.
helen's resistance is palpable--DBT makes up a whole book, and i can't say i was thrilled embarking on the journey myself. at first, a lot of it did seem trite--splashing my face with cold water, or practicing box breathing in a room full of people.
but what i had to realize for myself--and what helen does, too--is that these skills are an ongoing practice.
later in the episode, helen calls her therapist in distress after an encounter that brings her face-to-face with the uncomfortable reality of racism in australia and her innate privilege. "this therapy is not about denying your feelings," marcia reminds her, "it's about bringing you to a frame of mind where you can better navigate the situation. and right now, you need a distress tolerance skill, so pick one."
sure enough, we see helen doing laps up and down the stairs--employing the TIPP skill to bring her back to baseline. this is one of the many things i love about the newsreader's handling of bpd: it shows the borderline character doing the work. you don't "graduate" from DBT. i've gone through two group rounds myself, and have worked since my diagnosis with various therapists on individual practice. and still, over 6 years later, oftentimes the skills i need the most aren't readily at hand in high-stress moments. i'll never be done doing this, and that's kind of the point.
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helen's story arc comes to a head in 3x05, when the press reveals details of her stay at a mental institution as a young woman. helen not-normal, the headline says. helen spirals--this could be the end of her career. she panics, begging for it to be retracted. this loops back to the denial of her condition, her emotions, her very self that plagued her for two seasons (and presumably far before). but this time, her therapy work grounds her:
marcia: helen, what can you control? what can you always control? helen: my reactions. marcia: you control what you do next. and what you do next tells everyone who you are.
so helen uses her journalistic platform to talk about mental health. she goes live on her show public eye with a social worker and former psychiatric nurse, who was institutionalized herself and thus became passionate about revamping the mental health industry: "if community were more accepting of people with mental illness, that would make the biggest difference." facing the camera, helen responds:
having experienced anxiety and depression myself, i do believe that...that it is the shame and the isolation that makes it so unbearable. and perhaps if we could change the way that we view and discuss mental health issues, it might seem less impossible to overcome.
this is just the start of helen's self-acceptance journey--and audiences receive it overwhelmingly positively. public eye is inundated with calls after the show. helen even reconciles with her sister, after years of little contact.
helen's choice to be authentically herself, live on air--marrying her public persona with the very real person behind it--is so important for folks with bpd to see onscreen.
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the sixth episode and series finale, "the fall," positions helen further getting a handle on emotion regulation. in an explosive confrontation between her and her co-executive producer, bill, helen takes a deep breath in response to his slew of insults. she responds to him calmly, setting a boundary:
i don't want to do this with you anymore. i really tried to protect your feelings. i mean, i blamed myself. i blamed your marriage. i blamed our working relationship. but i'm not going to be punished because I didn't want to fսck you.
later, in front of a group of largely male network executives, she sets her terms for the show going forward, delivering an ultimatum. the network pushes back on her terms, saying, "you do not get to control this." but, oh, she does. in establishing understanding and control of her emotions and her reactions, helen is able to fully harness her power as the queen of australian news.
in the end, helen ends up running public eye alongside her trusted co-producer, noelene, with dale serving as the show's international reporter. she's become herself, owned herself and her illness, and is still a wildly successful newsreader and journalist--not despite her bpd and the work she's doing to manage it, but partly because of all that too. because she knows herself, and unabashedly, she lets the world know this part of her, too--if not in name, then in her continuing to move forward with the candor around her experience with depression and anxiety.
i chatted with my therapist about helen's season 3 storyline. i'm still processing what i watched, and i wanted to reflect aloud about why that was. i had a really visceral reaction to helen's story that i'm still moving through, and one i wasn't expecting. and i think it's because this sensitive, realistic, honest portrayal of bpd and treatment and recovery resonated with my journey. seven years out from my diagnosis, sometimes the behaviors and cries for help i exhibited in my early to mid-twenties feel far away. is that really the "person" i was? was the diagnosis accurate? i realized it had to have been, for this season to have pulled at me so strongly.
and i remembered this is just one facet of who i am, and i've worked hard to learn how to manage it. my symptoms may look different now, less severe--but it doesn't change what happened to me, what i've been through, what i did at my borderline "height"--and the work i've done and continue to do. there's no "cure"--but there is recovery (not linear--no healing ever is). it's so clear in the show's final moments that helen is on her way there, too.
having the opportunity to see what i've experienced mirrored back at me through a beloved fictional character, as well as to reflect on how far i've come, is something i've not really experienced until now. i'm impressed with how the writers handled this aspect of the season, and i want to continue moving through how it resonated for me, and i'm sure for so many others.
helen, thank you.
i am so proud of you. (and i'm proud of me too.)
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PLEASE take a few seconds to read this. I need to talk about it at least here, or I swear steam will start coming out of my ears.
For weeks now, Luca Marinelli has been surrounded, humiliated, and mocked by a large portion of Italians (spoiler: fascists, but without saying it) just because, in some interviews (interviews he HAD to do—it’s not like he volunteered—purely to promote his new high-profile project M, The Son of the Century on SKY TV), he stated that he is antifascist, that his grandmother and entire family were too, and that it was difficult for him to take on Mussolini’s appearance and portray him.
The series is outstanding, making it untouchable from a production standpoint (JOE WRIGHT is the director! The same director of Pride & Prejudice and Atonement with McAvoy).
So what did this disgusting Italian ignorance do? Of course, it could ONLY latch onto Marinelli’s words.
Words that should be completely normal in a democratic government, right? An Italian actor says it was challenging to portray a historical figure who was atrocious and horrible for Italian families themselves.
And yet… no. They attacked him, mocked him. From then until now (to the point that he was interviewed again, and he admitted that yes, of course, it hurt him because he was speaking genuinely about himself). And now that a second season is confirmed, they’re mocking him even more.
But what exactly are they saying? Well, the usual ignorance:
That he took the MONEY, so he should shut up. (He worked. Obviously, he got paid. He worked for a production team and even said he was thrilled to collaborate with them. But he still despises the historical figure he portrayed.)
That he's a nobody. (Sure, he’s not super famous outside of Italy. But in Italy, he’s REALLY well-known. He’s one of the few Italian actors who has worked with Charlize Theron, starred in an American series, won at the Venice Film Festival, worked with foreign directors, acted in LGBTQ+ projects, and performed in English, Italian, and German.)
That he should shut up (again) because other famous actors have played bad characters and stayed silent. (Completely false. Leonardo DiCaprio and even Evan Peters—who played Dahmer—have both said it wasn’t easy to portray a real-life serial killer. Plus, we’re talking about Marinelli, an Italian actor playing an Italian dictator from the 1900s, not Caesar. This is recent history, and it still carries deep wounds in our country. You can’t compare it to an "American actor" playing a fictional villain or even a real historical figure from another country—someone who didn’t harm their homeland or cause them personal pain or shame.)
That he only said it to get attention and his moment of fame. (FALSE. GUYS, GUYS, GUUUYS… we’re talking about Luca Marinelli, who DOESN’T have social media, whose private life is completely unknown, who is genuinely shy outside of acting, and who has never been involved in any gossip.)
All of this disgusts and saddens me… The only thing I’m "happy" about is that at least The Old Guard 2 is happening.
#luca marinelli#m the son of the century#the old guard#the old guard 2#immortal husbands#m il figlio del secolo#tog#nicky di genova#talk tag#text post
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Good Omens, My Life, and My Soon-To-Be-Wife: A Tumblr Love Story
I joined Tumblr in 2019, shortly after I discovered a mini-series about an angel and a demon and the not-really-end of the world. I was consumed by it, by the story and the characters and the love that ran underneath it all, and so I came to Tumblr to find a community of people who felt the same.
What I was not expecting to find was the love of my life, but here we are.
J and I met through a mutual friend (hi, @ineffablefool ) who had recommended my fics on his blog often enough that J decided to read them. Soon enough, I started noticing repeated comments from one particular user on many of my fics, and I found myself looking forward to reading what this person thought of new chapters and works. J eventually messaged me on Tumblr, we became friends, and later on, we became more than that.
I’ll spare you the ins and outs of our relationship (because I am, and always will be, fairly private about my real life/name/identity when it comes to my fandom life), but know this: in more than 5 years of knowing J, and in nearly 4 of being in a romantic relationship with them, I have come to know and understand what it means to love another person with your entire being. I have learned so much about patience and grace, and I have laughed so much more and generally been so much happier in this phase of my life than in any one before it. I cannot wait to see what the future holds for us. Our relationship has spanned many years and many more miles, even stretching across an ocean as we’ve both navigated trans-Atlantic journeys that have lead to us finding a home together (at last). Edinburgh has been as good a home to me as I have ever had, and it’s been even better since J has been here with me.
So when J and I took a trip to London this past weekend to celebrate our engagement, we went to St. James’s Park. We found a bench, and we sat together on it, and we talked and thought about how absolutely mad and wonderful it is that Good Omens brought us here. It’s the love story that started ours, and there will always be part of me that is immensely glad that J and I found it when we did.
(There’s been a lot of talk lately about whether we as a fandom should continue to support and love Good Omens in light of the actions of one of its creators. To that I say: do what feels right to you. If you need to step away, I understand.
But to those of you who, like me, choose to remain in the fandom, know this: Good Omens is as much ours as it ever was his. We can claim the love we have found here, and we can celebrate it. We can mourn what we have lost while being grateful for what we have. And we can look forward to a happy ending, together, because it is what we - and Aziraphale and Crowley - have always deserved.)
I’ll sign off now and leave the rest of my sappy monologuing for my fiancée to handle. Thanks for listening.
And to @shesthewindandsea, my dearest love: cheers, darling. To the world, and to our happy ending.
#good omens#I met my wife on Tumblr.com: the hope-inthedark story#the bench#to the world#feel free to reblog!
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I love YINGDU as it is
I don't think I'll read these interviews everyone is talking about :/ I thought hard about it, I've read the general points of it, but I don't think reading them will make me enjoy YINGDU more. Quite the opposite actually.
Me: thank you but no thank you. Later maybe. Love you, still.
I don't understand why they had to get interviewed to clear things up. By why, I mean, this situation is fucked up and I don't get how things got like this in this industry.
First. Can't the fans just wait and see? We're grownups, stop treating us like children who cried to get a lollipop. We'll still be here next year. Trust your fanbase.
Second... in what kind of world were the animators under pressure to the point they created plot holes and new timelines by accident? I'm extrapolating but, for real, how fucked up is it that they decided to rush a show that popular for the sake of airing it early? I'm sorry, was the money we spend on merch every few weeks not enough? I'm just mad at the production, honestly. Because they made a big mistake.
They're rushing in like bulls in a china shop. The character PVs were a mistake as well. They should have been released after YINGDU, to manage our expectations on characters that were yet to be introduced. I used to think it was an actual teaser, a window on how Lu Guang saw them or what they will become because of Lu Guang's meddling with the timeline. Now, I'm starting to think they needed strong marketing to get people's attention.
The whole thing makes my viewer experience less than optimal. So I'll keep writing meta but I won't take these interviews into account. 🧩Meta is for fun🧩, mere interpretation, only fanon, and that's okay. Meta is gamble. Meta is character study and theories on plot twists.
✨And that's okay✨
We're not suppose to write season 3 in advance. So it makes sense to me to keep having fun on what the show and the official content bring us. But as far as I'm concerned, the interviews didn't happen. It's not denial, just-
When I was studying cinema in university, my teacher once told me a very harsh truth: if you have to explain the sequence you filmed, then you didn't film it right. Sadly, in this context, production limitations were at fault but the lasting impression is the same.
Do you realize how insane it is that a creative team has to spell their work out to their fans? How humiliating it must be? There's revealing easter egg, teasing next season, spilling spoilers on accident, and then there is whatever that was. I feel for the creators and animators who worked themselves to exhaustion to bring something as beautiful as YINGDU to life. Because this season? It isn't perfect and it's inconsistent and different but no one can call it ugly. I would lick my screen because the image does look tasty lmao. My heart bleeds for all the people involved in this season.
Meta is trying to understand and noticing easter eggs, honouring the writers and animators' work X
Of course, that's only my stand on the topic. I might take different directions in my interpretation than others, that's all. Aaaaaand? Yes. That's okay 🥰
As an artist myself, I feel like the situation is kind of disappointing for the people who worked on YINGDU. That's why I'll take the canon as it is. I don't want to mourn what could be or should have been. I want to enjoy what is.
Meta is diving in the depth of symbolism X
As a fan, I get that we're happy with every nugget of information on what's coming next. The lore in Link Click is still blurry and while I honestly want to believe it is an artistic choice and will stay under control, I can't help but fear it's the result of bad writing. But. What if it is? Meh, I'm still here, enjoying myself. Because I love this show as it is, I see the flaws and the beauty in it. I'll be there.
Meta is love and each of us expresses it differently X
#the daily life of alice's hyperfixation#link click#时光代理人#shiguang dailiren#director li haoling speaking#meta#is this meta?#this fandom feels like home
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wow! raf is a young man! it must have been weird for the autobots to grow up with raf, seeing as humans age faster than cybertronians. just a blink of the eye and raf has gone from sparkling to little grown baby man.
and prepare for a barrage of questions
what are the sexualities of the bots and humans? do any of the other bots/humans have disabilities too? (love the representation!) how old are the other human characters? are there any other ships going around? is soundwave faceless and mute in this au? and were optimus and megatron a sort of something before the war broke out?
that's all
Yes, to the Autobots, it was a bit of a culture shock (and saddening) to watch Raf grow up so quickly. Sometimes they still treat him like a little kid just because they’re so not used to how humans age. Rafael only corrects them about it if it’s about work, but he usually does not mind. He loves his robot family so much.
As for the sexualities! On Cyberton, the courting culture was just “love who you love” and the concept of sexuality and gender was just an unspoken understanding. That said, among earth standards, they have learned about their sexualities and are happy to explain them to anyone who asks. Optimus is bisexual, Ratchet is gay, Wheeljack is pansexual, Arcee is trans and bi (with a preference for mechs), Bumblebee is pan as well, and First Aid is aroace and non-binary!
Ratchet has a multitude of disabilities since Lockdown maimed him. The obvious one is partial blindness, but he also has pretty heavy chronic pain, irregular fuel line efficiencies, weak gears in his leg, and mild processor damage. He handles it as well as he can and does not really like to talk about it.
Wheeljack is also partially deaf in both of his audio receptors! He uses audio enhancers (like hearing aids) to help him hear. Things blowing up in his face too many times has its consequences.
Raf if 22, Jack is 20, Miko is 19, and Sari is 10. Miko and Sari are adoptive sisters!
I’m still figuring out how many characters I’ll be playing with in my AU, but the main ship is obviously OptiRatch. Wheeljack has a husband, Bulkhead, but he is currently off-world. I’m also heavily considering adding KOBD.
Optimus was friends with Megatron before the war (known as Orion and D-16 back in the day), but their friendship slowly started to turn sour when Orion got an apprenticeship under Sentinel Prime and D-16 did not. D-16 disappeared randomly one day, and when he returned, he had a new name, a new mission, and a newfound hatred for Orion and his mentor.
As for Soundwave, as much as I love his Prime design, my version of him is more inspired but other continuities. But for the most part, he does not speak!
Here’s a little concept design I’m working on for him, just for you anon :)
He’s got big ol’ speakers hehe
#hehe all the asks are making me very happy#*grabs anon and shakes you around*#KEEP THEM COMING I LOVE YOU#art#my art#transformers art#digital art#artists on tumblr#transformers#transformers au#tf: earthbound au#maccadam#sketch#asks#Soundwave#transformers soundwave
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Shifting priorities
The Doctor x reader (platonic)
Okay, I've only written on Transformers, but seeing the new installment of PPT just made me smile and sit down to write. I love the scientist characters too much. Warning: mention of organs and violent experiments, possible spoilers. If you want me to write you something, feel free to request it!
Yes. Yes, he knows no mercy, yes, he's ruthless and cruel. So what? If even half the employees in this company were as logical, goal-oriented, the greatest things were created long ago. If that snot-nosed jerk Ludwig, with his inspirational speeches and penetratingly understanding gaze, would stop acting like a softy, immortality would not be a dream, but a matter of money. Sure, these assholes would be sure to talk about the good for the world, but who gives a damn? They don't understand anything at all, make heroes out of themselves, sympathize, pity, as if they are not the ones watching bloody experiments on cameras, as if they are not the ones keeping living corpses in cages without food
Let any of them call Sawyer an asshole, so be it, but he was honest enough, at least with himself. He knew who he was and didn't try to appear different.
Some of the employees laughed at him when he brought you, a kid, into his cleanest (and relatively) office for notes and paperwork. They threw jokes about his demotion to babysitter or his willingness to leave his job and go into fatherhood. The doctor had no trouble putting them in their place.
They don't understand because of their own feeble-mindedness, Sawyer says to himself, looking down into your big, overly intelligent eyes. He took this kid away, like finding a diamond in a pile of dirt, sand, and debris. He knew those test results, he knew that communication style. It was hard not to recognize himself in your face. A kind of little genius who'd been so lucky to get into the orphanage.
You're definitely different from the other kids, you don't look at him like he's the last hope, like you're a yard dog, you don't act like a nasty snotty brat, none of that. But he sees respect, he sees that one genius recognizes and acknowledges another and it rubs off on his ego. You laboriously write something out of his study guides by the light of a desk lamp, read his notes, speak of him to others with reverence, causing him something resembling a surge of pride.
Kids are always too curious, especially the smart ones, and you were out of the question. Of course you did sneak in during one of his experiments. He can blame himself for not locking the door. He could, yes, but he won't. Another body opened up before him like a flower bud, not moving as he carefully separated the marrow with a scalpel and as your stupid face crawled out from the other side of the bunk, making him shriek in fright.
He was almost on the verge of a breakdown, it had all started out so well, now he'd have to either keep you on a leash or get rid of you altogether, the kids can't live with themselves after a sight like that!
But oh, oh, he remembered why he chose you. Staring emotionlessly at the pale face of the girl you had definitely previously known, you point a finger towards her head asking to see the actual brain. He calms down in an instant, noting to himself again what a genius he is for discerning the right specimen.
As the doctor continues to poke around inside the children, you sketch out cerebral gyrus in your notebook, interjecting now and then about the purpose and name of certain parts of the large hemispheres of the brain. Wonderful child…
As the years of his work go by, you grow up. You enjoy interacting with experiment 1166, stroking his colorful fur, throwing him things to bring back. You're aware of his human nature, as well as many other things, but you remain as he chose you to be–cold and indifferent.
The Doctor notes some signs of savagery in you, very slight, but that's not surprising when a child grows up underground, in the company of adults, experiments, and beast-like unintelligent creatures. You can survive it.
***
His first reaction when he wakes up, immobilized, split into pieces and placed in the damn machine–worrying about himself. Not that it's unexpected. He remembers you pretty quickly, too. Where are you, where is his favorite apprentice? He asks questions, demands answers, threatens, but a short 'run away' is all he gets in response.
Immersed in darkness and silence, abandoned by traitors who only turn when they need his brainpower, he thinks of you. You're still not as bright as he is, but your company was much more pleasant than this one. Did you just run away, leaving him alone? You don't think of him even after all these years together? You grew up around him, he taught you so many things that he knew himself, didn't you get attached?
What a silly thing to say, he doesn't get attached, and you're so much like him that you're hardly different in this. Sawyer can't help but feel something unpleasant at the thought. Abandoned, all traitors and all abandoned him!
***
The ray of light in this prison was your sudden voice. He thought he had lost his mind, he mean even more, but no, you were definitely here, the cameras didn't lie. He couldn't help but scare you a couple times, just for fun, understand the old man, he was so bored here! But he helps you get to him, genuinely happy to be able to socialize again. No, he hasn't become like those soft-spoken idiots in the factory, it's just nice to talk to a decent person, that's all.
You stay by his side survived by nothing short of a miracle when the Prototype himself visits the Doctor after the Hour of Joy. They need his mind, they need his intelligence and knowledge. All that, but not you.
Sawyer almost squeals, screaming that he will not help them under any circumstances if they touch such a marvelous specimen, he is uncompromising, unafraid of the threats of a huge creature that makes even your mouth dry up with a semblance of worry.
You're staying, alive again by a miracle. and under strict surveillance by everyone. No one here trusts you, nor will they. You don't expect them to be kind, though.
The Prototype has warned Sawyer that your feeding is only the Doctor's own responsibility and goes into the shadows. You are left alone with each other, simultaneously tongue clucking and hissing the same curse. Everyone here is such an asshole.
#poppy playtime#the doctor#The Prototype#the doctor x reader#harley sawyer x reader#poppy playtime x reader#fanfic#poppy playtime 4#poppy playtime chapter 4#x reader
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Never the dark 7, 10 [dareth x Cyrus, it's not a pairing I've seen before and it humors me in a good way], and 11?
[ask meme]
YAAAY THANK YOUUU
7: Where did the title come from?
Bury Me Low by 8 Graves! I was listening to this song a LOT when conceptualizing the fic and I feel like the whole thing kinda describes Zane in the fic. In retrospect, I do kinda wish I had named it something smoother, I had a few ideas for what I might change it to (Inside the Dark, Forsaken Dark, and [redacted because i might be using it for another project teehee]) but I do like Never the Dark and I think i'll keep it lol
the funniest thing about this song is that I played it so much I got sick of it and now I wont listen to it
If I die today, it won't be so bad I can escape all the nightmares I've had All of my angry and all of my sad Gone in the blink of an eye I've seen the devil. I've shaken his hand I've seen the evil that dwells in a man For all of my wisdom, I can't understand ...... If I die today, it won’t be so hard Everything scares me, but never the dark
youtube
10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?
Polyninja because I love them and the fucked up relationship dynamic post zanedeath called to me.
Pixal/Skylor has always been awesome but I included it here specifically because of how I view their character actions in the three year time skip. Skylor joins the ninja a few month after Zane dies and despite the fact that they don't harbor any ill will towards her, Zanes absence is a fresh wound that it feels like she's trying to step into. It makes everyone bleed. No one is coping well and things get messy and tense between skylor, the ninja, and pixal until Skylor has a mental breakdown and removes herself from the team (trauma response due to the nature of how her father raised her.) Skylor was never part of the team- she's not been there from the beginning, so she's an outsider. And so is Pixal. (Not intentionally of course, but the others share a different kind of grief that the two don't.) Cyrus eventually convinced Pixal to go to therapy where she gets some clarity on things and reaches out to Sky to apologize again for any role she played in the teams tension with her. She invites Skylor over for dinner and they accidentally end up talking for 6 hours- and the rest is history
(Skylor IS on good terms with the ninja btw. they apologized and hashed things out- but she won't rejoin the team for a lot of different reasons.)
Coppershipping my beloved. new-ish in the ficverse! They were starting to be more friendly with eachother after zanedeath, and that progressed post s11. Dareth took his grief at losing Zane as motivation to get in better shape and actually try and train, so he hits the gym and puts on a lot of muscle. takes up boxing. He wants to be able to do more to help if something happens again. He ends up putting his new skills to use protecting Cyrus from something or another and Cyrus asks him to be his bodyguard. They spend a lot of time together and fall in love teeheehee
also, fun fact for you, Dareth handmade all the ninja suits they wear in NTD!
11: What do you like best about this fic?
oh man. Is it bad to say the fact that it's almost finished? I'm just really proud I've been able to stick with it and put in the time and effort. I've got a pretty spotty track record with chaptered work- i lose motivation and drop things a lot, unfortunately. But i'm still dedicated to finishing NTD!
and im really proud of the wordcount! 100k!!!!!!! WAOW
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Jason X Jazz
This entire post is me screaming into the void because I'm writing a fic and I'm having a lot of emotions about it. You have been warned.
I am currently processing some things through the characters of Jason Todd and Jasmine Fenton, and I need to talk about their characters before I break down completely.
Jazz is easy for me to write. Jazz is an Enneagram 5, which I'm pretty sure is my type as well. Jazz ignores her emotions - or at least refuses to identify them - in favor of logic. Truth is ultimately what matters to her. She hoards information in her attempts to find the truth, and no amount of information will be enough until she finds a satisfactory answer.
I see a lot of myself in Jazz.
Mostly good things - and in fact that's the problem. I have a hard time seeing Jazz's flaws as flaws. The orginal show calls her out for being a know-it-all, and a teenager who thinks she's an adult, but as I write this I realize that I never saw that as something that had to be fixed - or at least, not as something that had to be fixed by Jazz herself.
Because of course Jazz felt like she had to be an adult. Her parents were caught up in their own lives, to the point where they left their science experiments on the kitchen table with toddlers running around. Of course when Danny started acting differently, and her parents didn't notice, she blamed it on their inattention. And of course it was specifically Danny's need for attention that mattered; she's got her intellect to carry her through life's challenges, after all. She's the one with perfect test scores, the one who applies herself, the one who understands the importance of a life apart from ghost hunting.
Oh, she's aware of her own need for attention, of course. She'd have to be a fool not to realize that, sometimes, she gets envious of ghosts for how much her parents seem to be obsessed with them. (She's have to be a fool not to realize that, magic or no magic, she shouldn't have fallen so fast for Johnny.) But she can handle it. She can think her way through it. Danny can't; all he has are his…
Friends.
Who are Jazz's friends?
Who does she talk to besides her brother, her parents, and the occasional teacher or classmate for academic purposes?
Where does she vent all that emotional energy besides the occasional concert?
This is where I see Jazz's flaws and mine overlap. This is also something I feel comfortable writing about, because it's something that I have talked about in therapy ad nauseum. I know the answer here is quite literally to lean on the relationships you do have, and if that's not enough, to find new relationships. It takes work and more than a bit of luck, but it is possible for Jazz (and me) to break out of this idea that she always needs to be rational about everything, including herself. I think that's what the show was going for, actually - but equating emotional expression with childishness is… wrong, I think. It reeks of underlying toxic masculinity if nothing else, and considering what I've heard about Butch Hartman, that's not off-base.
And then there's Jason.
Jason fucking Todd.
Who like no other character I have ever seen in fiction, fanfiction, and all the headcanons in between, embodies the Bible verse of Romans 7:19-20:
"For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it."
Jason is an Enneagram 8. Jason, whether he realizes it or not, is obsessed with control. He wants the world to be good, to be just, and he will go to dramatic lengths to make it so - not unlike Bruce. At the same time, though, he has internalized the belief that he himself is not a good person. He's a just person, maybe - and I would even venture kind - but as much as he tries to do what he thinks is right, Jason Todd does not think of himself as good during or after UtRH. He's sacrificed his sense of empathy, after all, and that made him "the bad one" who "needs to be stopped". (Makes sense, since he's the one that was never good enough anyway.)
So is it any wonder that he struggles to believe in forgiveness? Is it any wonder that he won't allow himself to accept love when it is offered? He doesn't think he deserves it. He thinks that people who have done worse than him deserve it even less. And maybe if he can take them out, in a twisted way it'll make him better. Maybe if he can rid the world of a few monsters, it'll make him less of one.
Jason at his worst is all of my self-loathing, all of my catastrophic thinking, all of my self-delusion, and all of my fear. I've connected his struggle to accept love to my own struggles with sexual content. I've said it before elsewhere, but I think I need to say it again: radical forgiveness and love are the only way forward. The catch is that, by necessity, those things require connections with other people.
And what writing Jason in my fic is asking me to do is to imagine the people I care most about in this world discovering the worst part of me - and forgiving me for it. Helping me with it. Only for them to ultimately fail to fix me, thus making me desperate enough to turn to a stranger who may screw me over worse than anyone ever has.
Suddenly I feel like we've been down this road before.
And while I know that Jazz is someone Jason can trust, Jason doesn't know that, and it's difficult to picture - well, no, actually, it's not hard to picture Jason, after being caught in a moment of Pit Rage, to tell the worst to Jazz in an effort to scare her off. And it's not hard to picture Jazz rationalizing that behavior, and even seeing honor in the honesty of it. It's not hard to picture Jason being confused and suspicious, forced to confront his own assumptions about what's possible and what he deserves out of that possibility. It's not hard to picture Jazz having empathy for those who suddenly receive more than they think they are owed. It's not hard to imagine Jason bargaining with himself, desperate for something to work but also ready to bail at the first sign of betrayal.
Holy shit, it's easy to see how he slowly comes to accept her help with his Pit Madness. It's easy to see how after he feels like he's back in control of himself, he'd start falling in love with this girl who sees the best in him.
And the kicker is, she doesn't even see what she's done as special; she just didn't want him to feel alone. She didn't want him to feel trapped in his own head.
She's not expecting those sentiments to be returned.
She's not expecting Jason to like it when she loses her temper. She's not expecting him to treat her with respect when it comes to her hobbies, the same she gives him. She's not expecting him to want to be around her, to seek her out when he's feeling any type of way; for her to seek him out and have him be willing to listen when she wants to vent. She's not expecting the committment, the quiet support, the feeling that for once she can lean on someone else and just be herself.
Is it because he feels like he owes her? Is it because she has something he wants? Is he trying to manipulate her? There has to be a rational explanation-
Oh.
Oh.
…Well there's certainly nothing rational about it, that's for damn sure. What do you mean, Jason, you think I'm passionate and smart? Even if that's true- Well of course I'm protective of children and the disadvantaged, who isn't? And what do you mean it's a relief that I don't just know about the vigilante life, I understand the vigilante life? What do you mean it blows your mind that the killing- Well, it doesn't not bother me- But yeah it's not the end of the world. What do you mean you're thankful that I've made Crime Alley my home and you'll be here for me as long as I want you to be?
What do you mean you love me?
Do I love you too? Of course I-
Of course I do.
Because of course she does. Of course she admires his honesty, even if it makes him sound like an asshole sometimes. Of course she could spend hours figuring out his quirks, religiously studying what makes him smile and how far she can push his buttons before they're chasing each other across rooftops. Of course she lights up every time he comes over, every time he so much as texts her. Of course she's noticed that he's been able to get her to tap into her emotions in a way she's never before felt safe enough to.
Of course she loves him.
And of course he loves her.
They've made each other feel alive (again).
#dc x dp#danny phantom#dc comics#jazz fenton#jason todd#don't look at me#I swear if anyone I know irl finds this I'll yeet myself into the sun#But seriously I am STRUGGLING#I love Jason but he is a BITCH to write without sending me into a spiral#I'm getting there
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Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Six
Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.
Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns
Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.
Warning(s): Some minor not detailed SMUT
Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.
Six
Titania stretched her legs across the couch, laptop balanced on her thighs, the glow of the screen illuminating her face. Jey was still on the road, set to fly back tomorrow, and the house felt unbearably quiet without him.
She had gotten used to his presence—the way his voice filled every empty space, the way his body moved so easily through her world, like he had always belonged there.
Because now, he did.
She had written it that way.
Titania glanced toward the hallway, her eyes lingering on the spare room door. The typewriter was in there, waiting, but she had promised herself she wouldn’t touch it. Not tonight.
Instead, she focused on the document open on her laptop. An outline for a new story—a real one, something she had actually created on her own. But the words weren’t coming.
She sighed, shutting the laptop and tossing it aside. Her gaze drifted back to the spare room door. Her chest tightened. She didn’t need to check. She didn’t need to know. But the pull was there, relentless, a whisper at the back of her mind. Titania stood before she could talk herself out of it, feet moving on their own.
The spare room was still and untouched, the air thick with something unspoken, something unseen. The typewriter sat in its usual place on the desk, the glossy black keys gleaming in the dim light.
At first, Titania felt relief. The last page she had typed was still in the roller, the same words she remembered. But then her eyes drifted lower. There was a new page. A fresh sheet of paper, partially rolled into the typewriter, with a single sentence neatly typed at the top.
A page she hadn’t loaded.
You belong to him now. And he will never let you go.
Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t written that. Her hand hovered over the paper, fingers trembling.
The typewriter was changing things on its own.
The realization sent a cold shiver down her spine. Had it always done this? Had it always known what she wanted before she even did? Or worse… was it deciding for her? Titania backed away, her pulse hammering in her ears.
She needed air. She needed Jey.
----
The next evening, Titania stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair for what felt like the tenth time. She told herself it was just another night out, just her and Jey, but her reflection told another story.
Her eyes were tired, shadowed with something she didn’t want to name. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t slept well. It was the sentence.
You belong to him now. And he will never let you go.
Her stomach twisted just thinking about it. The typewriter had never done that before. She had always been the one in control. She had written Jey into her life—not the other way around.
Hadn’t she?
A car pulled into the driveway, and Titania jumped at the sound of a door slamming. Jey was home. A strange mix of relief and unease settled over her as she smoothed her dress, forcing a deep breath before heading downstairs. Jey stepped inside like he owned the place. Because now, he did.
He dropped his bag near the door, kicking it aside before looking up at her. The second his eyes met hers, a slow, satisfied grin spread across his lips.
“Damn, ma,” he murmured, closing the distance between them. “You look good enough to keep me home tonight.”
Titania forced a small laugh, but the way he said it— like she was his to keep, to have, to hold forever—made something cold settle in her stomach.
He pulled her in without hesitation, arms solid, unyielding, wrapping around her waist like they belonged there. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Missed you.”
Titania swallowed hard.
She wanted to melt into him, to let herself believe everything was normal, but the words from the typewriter wouldn’t leave her alone.
She must’ve hesitated too long, because Jey leaned back slightly, studying her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said too quickly. “I just—I guess I’m still getting used to all this.”
Jey tilted his head, lips curving into something unreadable. “All what?”
Titania swallowed. “You. Us.”
Jey chuckled, shaking his head as he reached up, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Ain’t nothing to get used to, Tee. This is just how it is now.”
Her stomach flipped, and she didn’t know if it was from his touch or the way he said it.
Before she could respond, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come on. We’re going out. I want you next to me tonight.”
----
The bar had a pool table, dim lighting, and just enough of a crowd to make it comfortable, not chaotic. It was the kind of place Jey had probably been to a hundred times before—so why did it feel like she had been here before, too?
Titania ran her fingers over the edge of the pool table, her skin prickling with an eerie sense of familiarity. She hadn’t written this night. She knew she hadn’t. So why did it feel like she had already lived it?
Jey leaned against the table, chalking the cue stick, watching her. “You ever played before?”
Titania blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Uh, yeah. A few times.”
“Bet you suck.” His grin was teasing, his eyes glinting with amusement.
She rolled her eyes, grabbing a stick. “You don’t know that.”
Jey smirked. “Oh, I know, baby. But don’t worry—I’ll be gentle with you.”
Titania shook her head, laughing despite herself. But as she bent down to line up her first shot, a strange chill ran through her.
I’ve done this before.
Not just played pool. Not just had a date like this. This moment. The way Jey stood behind her, his hands grazing her waist. The way his voice dipped lower as he murmured, “Nah, Tee, hold it like this.”
The way he brushed up against her, body heat pressing against her back, breath warm against her ear. It was exact. Too exact. Her grip tightened on the cue stick. Had she written this? Had she rewritten it?
Jey let out a low chuckle, shifting slightly against her. “You keep bending like that, Tee, and I’m gonna forget we’re in public.”
Titania’s breath caught in her throat. That exact phrase. That exact tone, timing, delivery.
Her vision blurred for a second, her heartbeat loud, uneven. She had heard him say that before. But not here. Not like this. She straightened up too quickly, the cue stick nearly slipping from her fingers. Jey frowned, his amusement fading into something more curious.
“You good?”
Titania nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just, um… just got a little dizzy.”
Jey studied her for a moment before his expression eased again, his smirk returning.
“Alright, baby,” he murmured, stepping closer, boxing her in against the table. His fingers found her wrist, sliding slowly up her arm. “Then maybe we should stop playing games.”
Titania opened her mouth—to say what, she didn’t know—but Jey was already leaning in, claiming her mouth with his. And just like that, the déjà vu was gone.
All she could feel was him.
The ride home was charged, thick with something unspoken, something inevitable.
Jey drove with one hand on the wheel, his other resting on her thigh, fingers warm and possessive as they traced lazy circles over her skin. Every so often, he’d squeeze—just enough to make her pulse quicken, just enough to remind her of what was coming.
Titania stared out the window, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had dreamed about this. All of it. For years, she had imagined moments just like this—Jey wanting her, taking her, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And now, here it was. Real. Happening. So why did she still feel like she was watching it from a distance?
----
The second they stepped inside, Jey didn’t wait.
The door had barely clicked shut before he was on her, hands gripping her waist, lips crashing down against hers with a force that made her knees buckle. Titania gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as he backed her against the wall, body heat pressing into her, solid and unyielding.
“You’ve been thinking about this all night, huh?” Jey rasped; his voice lower, darker, rough with need.
Titania barely managed a breath before his mouth was on her neck, teeth grazing, sucking just enough to make her shudder. She had dreamed of this. Jey kissing her like he needed her to breathe. Touching her like he had always known exactly how she wanted to be touched. Now, she didn’t have to dream anymore.
Now, she could feel the heat of his skin, the weight of his hands, the way he was already pulling at the hem of her dress like he couldn’t stand the barrier between them.
Titania let out a sharp breath as he spun her around, pressing her front against the door.
“Jey—”
“You gonna let me have you, Tee?” he murmured against her ear, voice thick with dangerous amusement.
Titania shivered, her fingers flexing against the wood. “I—”
Jey pressed his thigh between hers, holding her there, his breath hot against the side of her neck.
“Tell me.”
Her body arched instinctively, every inch of her tuned to him, drawn to him. She had waited for this for so long.
She exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.”
That was all he needed. Jey grinned against her skin, his hands sliding down her thighs before gripping the back of her dress and pulling it up with one slow, deliberate motion.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “I ain’t taking my time tonight.”
----
Everything blurred after that. It was a mess of hands, mouths, tangled sheets, heat so intense she could barely breathe. Jey was everywhere.
His hands were firm, demanding, claiming every inch of her like he had been starving for her. His body was heavy over hers, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered things that made her skin burn. Titania gave in completely.
She let herself be taken, let herself be owned, let herself feel what it was like to be Jey Uso’s girl. She didn’t think. She didn’t question.
Not now.
Not when he was holding her down, pinning her wrists above her head, his mouth dragging over her collarbone before dipping lower.
Not when he told her, “You’re mine, Tee. Say it.”
And especially not when she actually said it back.
----
Later, she lay tangled in the sheets, Jey’s arm draped over her waist, his breathing deep and steady against her neck.
Her body was aching, sensitive, satisfied. But her mind wouldn’t shut off.
She had dreamed of this—of Jey being hers, of knowing his hands, his mouth, the way he moved when he was desperate for her. But now that she had it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had done this before.
Jey had touched her like he had always known exactly how to unravel her. Like he had already lived this moment. Maybe it was just chemistry. Maybe it was nothing.
Or maybe, just maybe—
She was losing track of what was real. Titania woke up to the sensation of warm lips trailing along her shoulder, slow and lazy.
A deep hum vibrated against her skin as Jey pulled her closer, his chest flushed against her back, fingers tracing idle patterns along her waist.
“Morning, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.
Titania sighed; eyes still heavy as she melted into his touch. The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his breath, the way his fingers gripped her just a little tighter when she shifted—it was addictive. She had dreamed of mornings like this. Now, she had them. Every single day.
Jey kissed the back of her neck, his grip flexing over her hip. “You sore?”
Titania swallowed, her stomach flipping. “A little.”
His smirk was evident in his tone. “Good.”
Titania rolled onto her back, facing him. “You’re proud of yourself, huh?”
Jey grinned, half-lidded eyes drinking her in like he had all the time in the world. “Of course. Look at you.” His fingers brushed over her thigh, squeezing lightly. “Laid up in my bed, wearing nothing but my marks.”
Titania’s breath hitched. She felt claimed. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she minded. She slipped out of bed an hour later, wrapping herself in Jey’s oversized hoodie before padding into the kitchen. The house felt unnaturally quiet, the leftover tension from the night before still lingering in the air.
Her thoughts felt scattered. The familiarity of the night—the way Jey knew her body before she even had to tell him, the way he spoke to her, touched her—it hadn’t left her mind. She had let herself get lost in him.
But now?
She needed to clear her head. She moved toward the hallway, feet carrying her somewhere she swore she didn’t want to go. The spare room door was already cracked open. Titania’s heart pounded.
Don’t go in there.
But she did. The air in the room was thick, heavy, suffocating. Titania’s breath hitched the second she saw the page. A new message. The typewriter had written again. She hadn’t touched it. Hadn’t even been in this room since the last time. Her stomach twisted as she stepped closer, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
Her hands shook as her eyes scanned the words, neatly typed at the top of the fresh page:
"You are his. And soon, you won’t remember being anything else."
A chill ripped through her. Titania’s fingers hovered over the page, her breath shallow.
What the hell does that mean?
Her eyes darted around the room as if expecting someone—or something—to be there. The words sat on the page, mocking her.
Like a warning.
Like a promise.
Like a fact.
Her mind raced. Was it talking about Jey? Was it talking to her? A sudden warmth wrapped around her waist. Titania jumped.
Jey’s voice was right at her ear. “You jumpy, Tee,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing her skin.
Titania sucked in a sharp breath, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. She hadn’t even heard him come in. Jey glanced down at the typewriter, but if he saw anything unusual, he didn’t react.
Instead, he turned her in his arms, tilting his head as he studied her face. “Something wrong?”
Titania swallowed, forcing a weak smile. “No. Just… woke up early.”
Jey’s gaze lingered for a second too long, as if he knew she was lying. Then, just as easily, his lips curled into a smirk.
“I was thinking…” he murmured, dragging his thumb lazily along her hip. “…maybe it’s time we move.”
Titania’s entire body stiffened. She barely found her voice. “Move?”
“To Florida.”
The room tilted. Her breath caught in her throat. She never wrote that. That was never even a thought of hers.
Jey’s smirk widened. “Yeah, Tee. I want us to be together. For real. No more back and forth.”
Titania’s chest tightened. Was this him? Or was this the typewriter deciding for her again? And worse—was she already too far gone to tell the difference?
Titania barely spoke the rest of the day. Jey didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he didn’t care. He was too caught up in the idea of them moving to Florida, of making their life together permanent. Every time he talked about it, his voice was steady, confident, certain. Like he had already made up his mind. Like she didn’t even have a choice. And maybe she didn’t.
Because hadn’t the typewriter already decided for her?
"You are his. And soon, you won’t remember being anything else."
Titania swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as Jey moved around the house, talking about plans, about Jimmy and Naomi, about how easy it would be for her to just pack up and leave everything behind.
She should have argued. She should have said something. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she wasn’t sure what was real anymore.
----
That night, Titania curled up on the couch, Jey stretched out beside her, his head lazily resting in her lap. Some reality show was playing in the background, but she wasn’t watching it.
Jey was scrolling through his phone, aimlessly tapping through messages until suddenly, the screen lit up— Roman.
Titania’s breath hitched. Jey’s smirk was instant, as if he had been expecting the call. He sat up, running a hand through his hair before answering.
“’Sup, Uce.”
Titania listened, silent, as Roman’s voice rumbled through the speaker. Deep. Smooth. Effortlessly commanding. Even through the phone, he sounded in control.
“Just checking in,” Roman said, his tone unreadable. “See you’ve been doing your own thing.”
Jey chuckled, shifting against the couch. “Yeah, you know how it is. Ain’t nothing changed, though. You still you think you the Tribal Chief, huh?”
Roman hummed, slow and deliberate. “Damn right I am. I don’t care what Solo got going on.”
Titania shouldn’t be reacting to this. But she was. Something about his voice, his presence, his power sent a slow, simmering heat through her veins.
She knew this man. She had watched him for years, seen him command an arena with nothing but a glance, watched him make people bend to his will. She had always admired him. She had always been a little drawn to him. And now, suddenly, that pull felt stronger.
Jey was still talking, but Titania wasn’t listening anymore. Because a thought had crept into her mind, uninvited, unwelcome.
Could she have more than just Jey?
The second the idea formed, her stomach twisted. No. That was insane. That was wrong. But the thought wouldn’t leave her. Because hadn’t she rewritten reality before? Hadn’t she gotten exactly what she wanted?
Jey hung up a few minutes later, tossing his phone onto the couch before pulling Titania back against him.
“Everything good?” she asked, her voice barely steady.
Jey smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her temple. “Yeah. You know how he is. Just keeping an eye on everything.”
Titania nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. Because now, there was a new temptation. A whisper of something she hadn’t let herself think about before. And as much as she tried to push it away, she knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.
Because the typewriter had already shown her the truth. If she wanted something bad enough, all she had to do was write it.
And maybe—just maybe—she was beginning to want Roman Reigns.
----
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