#I'm excited and scared and exhausted and *emotions*

[three--rings]

What we need is a new social movement. Not a political one. An artistic one.

We need people to make rebellion cool again. To idealize free thinking, free loving, free choices about our bodies.

We need influencers on the opposite side from the Andrew Tates and Manosphere.

We need music and fashion and film glorifying freedoms that oppose right wing authoritarian ideals. That embrace feminism and queerness and being a freak.

And we need a unifying identity for all these things. We need an identity like hippies, punk rock. The right is so good at coming together and the left is far too good at fracturing.

Modern media and social media companies have divided us all up into smaller and smaller social circles. Micro-identities. "Youth" used to be a social group. "Voice of a generation" was a thing. Now everyone is expected to be the voice of like...30 people.

What I'm saying here is just what I keep thinking about. What is the alternative to the tradwives and the Alpha Male podcasters? A bunch of intellectual politics nerds? Yeah, I mean thanks and all, but we need excitement. We need art.

Things are going to get worse and worse. The right is going to be selling limitations and restrictions and we need to be selling the alternative.

So if you're an artist, a writer, a musician, a filmmaker, an internet personality...get together with everyone you know who is also creative. Start talking with each other about how you create rebellious art, and how you create community in that art.

There's so much emotion floating around, so much fear and dread and exhaustion and we need to channel all that into art. It's the only way we win. Art is always how we make progress. But if you're making it alone, it doesn't build steam, it doesn't become a movement. You have to gather together. You don't all have to make the same thing. But you do need to have the same spirit. One determined to uplift what is good and fight what is evil.

Make art, people. Create an identity from it. Welcome everyone who is lost and scared. Lonely, sad, scared people get sucked into right wing circles because there's no alternative. Be the alternative.

[mimir-anoshe]

The Acolyte episode 8 Predictions, potential spoilers (If I'm right lmao, prepare for a long ass bingo card):

We'll open the episode to Osha's breathing, maybe even her yeeting off the mask.

We're going back to Brendok boys, that's where the final confrontation will take place. In the fortress, on the planet where it all began.

The space chase from the trailers is in the rings of Brendoks blue moon.

Qimir will help Osha discover the truth of her past, and accompany her.

Osha and Qimir will have some Han Solo/Leia esc shenanigans on Qimirs ship. It's gonna get a lil spicy and sarcastic I can feel it in me bones...

Osha will have some nerdy/funny things to say about Qimirs ship as a Meknek.

Osha will hang on to Qimirs saber the entire episode like she's found a new favourite sex chew toy and refuses to give it back.

Osha/Qimir and Mae/Sol will meet each other in the fortress. Oshamir will get there first, and Osha will see the carnage of her past all come back at once to haunt her.

The vergence is in that hole at the top of the fortress that leads into the volcano. The twins will tap into its power.

Osha will get a moment where she will have to choose, and she'll choose Qimir.

Osha will kill Sol, either from opening herself to the dark side, or because she's trying to kill Mae and Sol gets between them.

We'll get a parallel to Mother Koril's "Fight me" with one of the twins.

There will be a second eclipse, and that is when Osha and Mae will combine their power to save Sol.

Oh yeah, Osha and Mae will heal/save Sol.

Osha will save herself from falling using the force.

Osha will become a shadow, she will accept her power as a witch in some way. Her inner darkness. Just like her mother. Maybe to even teleport her and her sister/her and Qimir away from danger.

Mae will also become a shadow, just like mother Koril.

We get some fucking hilarious facial expressions/reactions from Qimir in response to Sol and the twins witch shenanigans.

One of the twins - probably Mae - will use witch mind fuckery.

Qimir will get injured, and Osha will attempt to heal him; using her desire.

Whatever the ceremony was originally supposed to achieve will be concluded in this episode.

There will be a sith reveal at the end of the episode, to tie to the prequels and potentially set up the BBEG for season 2.

The Witches will come back! Not from the dead lmao, mother Koril and half the coven are totally alive. We'll see them reintroduced in a surprising way. Or maybe Leslye will save it for a season 2. Mae will be tied to this strongly, either way.

Mae and Osha's last interaction will be at the Bunta tree, before they part ways.

Sol will tell the council the truth, but leave out Qimir/Osha in order to protect Osha. Mae will pretend to be Osha and therefore be safe from the Jedi.

Sol will be exiled.

Mae will go off on her own to rebuild the coven/carry on her mothers legacy. Sol may even accompany her, as an act of redemption.

Qimir and Osha get close to kissing, real, super, fucking intimately close... but don't... Or maybe... 👀

[transgender-catboy]

I love my friends

[aboutcustardcreams]

Until next time

Agathario x reader

The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3

warning: angst, a touch of fluff

The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 

“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 

You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”

The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 

Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”

“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”

“My loves–” 

“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 

When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”

Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 

“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 

“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 

“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”

Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”

You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 

“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 

“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 

“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”

The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 

“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”

“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 

You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 

“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 

“Agatha…”

Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”

“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  

You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 

Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 

“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 

When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 

“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.

You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”

“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.

“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”

Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 

It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 

She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”

You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 

When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 

“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 

“Rio, please, don’t do this–”

“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 

“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.

Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 

You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 

Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 

Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 

Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 

“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 

You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 

“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  

Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 

Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”

Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 

“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 

Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 

“Don’t be sad…”

You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 

“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 

“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 

Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”

“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 

Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 

“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”

But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”

“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 

“Guardian, then.”

You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 

“Now come here, I waited enough–” 

The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 

Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 

Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 

You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 

“We will be fine, Aggs.” 

When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 

“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 

When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 

When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.��

Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 

“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 

You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 

[sunny44]

Baby fever

Pairing: Mac Verstappen x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: baby fever

Summary: Max gets the baby fever after seeing Y/n with his nephews.

I always knew that my life was destined to follow the straight and fast line of a Formula 1 track. Since I was a child, racing cars were my focus, my passion. The idea of starting a family one day was always there, but it never occupied my thoughts. At least, not until I met Y/n.

From the first time I saw her, I knew she would be the love of my life and the person I wanted to build a future with. But we live life one day at a time, and even though we’ve made plans for the future, it wasn't something we were in a rush to pursue.

My sister Victoria gave birth to little Hailey a few weeks ago, and today we were going to meet her for the first time. She and Y/n have been messaging each other every day since Hailey was born, trying to find the right day for our visit.

When we arrived, Victoria and Thomas were in the living room, visibly tired but radiating happiness. Besides the little baby, they also had my two other nephews, who, though older, still required a lot of attention. I couldn't imagine how exhausted they must be.

We eagerly approached to meet little Hailey.

"You arrived just in time," Victoria said, her voice soft but full of enthusiasm. "She just woke up. Do you want to hold her?"

I was going to hold her first, but seeing Y/n’s eyes shining with emotion and excitement, I quickly gestured for her to go ahead.

Victoria handed Hailey to Y/n, who took her with the utmost care, then sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her for me to sit beside her. Y/n held her for a while before handing the baby to me before she fell asleep so we wouldn’t disturb her.

The light weight in my arms was something incredibly significant for me, even though I had held Luka and Lio many times when they were babies, every time felt like the first.

Hailey, with her big, bright eyes, looked at me with innocent curiosity. She had rosy cheeks and a serene expression, almost as if she were absorbing the world around her for the first time. My heart, accustomed to the fast pace of racing, seemed to slow down in that moment.

Y/n moved closer to me on the couch, gently touching the baby’s arm. "She’s so beautiful, Max."

"She really is." I replied, still surprised by the strength of the emotion washing over me. There was something deeply moving about holding this small human being who was part of my family.

As Hailey moved her hands slightly, almost as if she were trying to hold someone’s finger, I began to imagine what it would be like if that baby was ours. A part of me always believed I was far from being ready to be a father, that my life was too fast-paced to accommodate something so big and important. But in that moment, I felt a shift, something I couldn’t ignore.

"Are you okay, Max?" Y/n asked, noticing the silence that had settled between us.

"Yes," I replied, smiling softly. "I’m just watching her. I'm afraid to speak too loudly and scare her."

She smiled back, but there was a deep understanding in her eyes. Y/n has always been able to read me like no one else, and I knew she understood that I didn’t wanted to share what was on my mind at the moment.

After a few minutes, Thomas entered the room with Luka, my oldest nephew, who immediately ran into Y/n’s arms. They’ve always had a special connection, something I’ve always admired. Seeing the two of them together brought me a quiet joy, something I was beginning to value more each day.

Y/n had disappeared for a little while earlier while I was still holding the baby. When Hailey fell asleep in my arms, I handed her back to my sister, who went to put her in her crib. Tom had just gone to put Lio down for his afternoon nap, and I went to find my girlfriend.

I heard laughter coming from the backyard, where a scene unfolded that made my heart leap once again. Luka was laughing, running around the yard with contagious energy, while Y/n chased him, their laughter mingling in the air in a way that made the world seem lighter.

I stood there for a moment, just watching. There was something deeply familiar about Luka, as if I were looking at a miniature version of myself. It was something we always laughed about because he looked just like me. Y/n was always amazed at how similar we were, saying he could easily pass as my son.

He was the spitting image of the Verstappen family, and seeing him so happy and at ease with Y/n made me think about how she would be as a mother.

I always knew Y/n had a special way with children, but seeing the genuine and joyful connection between her and Luka made something bloom inside me. An idea that, until then, I had kept somewhere distant in my mind.

"She gets along well with him, doesn’t she?" Victoria’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"She really does," I replied, without taking my eyes off the scene in front of me.

"Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?" she asked, smiling as if she had caught me in the act.

"Maybe," I admitted, feeling my face heat up. "I never really thought about it before, but... I think something has changed."

Victoria nodded, understanding without needing more explanations. "Babies have that effect. They make you see the world in a different way. And from what I see, you and Y/n would make great parents."

“Thank you. She would definitely be a great mom,” I said before starting to laugh at their giggles.

The idea hit me with an almost frightening clarity. What once seemed like a distant dream now felt like a real, tangible possibility. I knew my life would never be normal, that the travel, the races, and the constant pressure would always be a part of me. But seeing Y/n laughing with Luka, I realized there was room for something more. For a family. For a future that, until then, I had never dared to imagine.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft shades of orange and pink, Y/n approached me, still smiling, her face lit up by the simple happiness of the moment.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing my expression.

"I was just thinking," I replied, gently pulling her closer to me, "that maybe one day... we could have something like this."

“Like?”

“A house with our kids running around.” I said and she looked at me, surprised, but then her smile widened, full of love and understanding.

"You think so?"

"I know so." I said, with a certainty I never thought I would have. "And I can't wait for it."

"I can't wait either," she said, giving me a quick kiss. "Though I find it almost impossible to imagine a child that looks you than Luka. But I’m sure that if our kids look like you and we take Luka and Lio with us they’ll all look like our kids."

I started laughing as Luka continued to play around us, and with the soft sound of the wind filling the space between us, I realized that the dream of having a family, something I never knew I wanted, was becoming clearer. It was a dream I wanted to share with Y/n, a new kind of race that I was eager to begin.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Family time”

[earthchica]

sweetest things | 2

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: take a chance with Terry and see how things go.

warning: explicit smut (18+), fluff, unprotected sex, slight daddy kink, foreplay, oral (f & m), light choking, light spanking, dirty talking, friends to lovers, pet names { baby, baby girl, angel & more }

note: Sweet and nasty, Terry is everything lol. here's part two! please enjoy!

-

It's been at least a week, and you've been avoiding Terry since his confession and the kiss you two shared.

Oh, the kiss.

That's all you could think about: the way he held you close, how soft and sweet his lips were, and how his tongue danced along with yours.

You've never felt this way about anyone else in your life; you thought you did with your late fiancé, but this was different.

Terry was everything you hoped to find again, and honestly, you wanted him to be more than your friend, but you were afraid.

Meanwhile, Terry wasn't upset that you left; he was more concerned, he didn't know what went wrong.

He tried talking to you, but clearly, you needed time to think, so he didn't push.

"However, the more he gave you space, the more he missed having you around.

You felt terrible leaving him hanging like that, but your fears were clouding your judgment.

You had gotten used to being alone, but now that you had found someone like Terry.

You knew you were missing the one thing you had been yearning for: and that's love.

"Why are you over here, huh?" your mom asked, and you straightened up and gazed at her.

"What, you don't like my company anymore?" You inquired, settling onto the couch beside her.

"You know I didn't say that, girl. I'm just saying I don't want you to end up like me...alone" She says sofly.

"You're not alone, Mama. You got me." You softly uttered those words, gently taking hold of her hand, causing a warm smile to bloom on her face.

"I know, sugar, but I don't want you to miss out on love like I did after your father died. I want you to move forward in life and take a chance with that sweet man, Terry, you always talk about," she said, placing her hand under your chin barely.

"I'm just scared, Mama," You said, looking down with an emotional expression.

"I understand, sugar, but it's okay to take a chance and see how things go. Don't you think Scott would've wanted you to move on and be happy?"

You paused, letting her words sink in. It was a moment of decision and she was right.

The burden of loneliness and the remorse of moving on had exhausted you, and you were done with it.

Scott would not want this pain and sadness for you; he would have wanted you to experience love and happiness again.

You looked warmly at your mother, knowing she was always right and gave the best advice.

"You're right, mama," You said lightly.

Your mom affectionately says, "I know I am. Now, go get your man, child."

You couldn't help but giggle, leaning in to gently kiss your mom's cheek before you grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

You pulled up in front of Terry's house, feeling excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, you approach the door, and with a thumping heart, you knock.

The door swings open, and you immediately meet his eyes as his voice softly utters your name.

"Hey, Terry, uh, can we talk?" you asked with a hopeful smile. He nodded and moved out of the way to let you in.

You both walked into the living room and sat on the couch silently until Terry broke the silence.

"Shit...I'll get it if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to tell you how you-" He began rambling, and you tried to get a word in.

"Terry...Terry...Terry" You repeatedly said his name to get his attention, but he kept rambling on.

"Terry...I love you," you blurted out, catching him off guard. He glanced over at you with a genuine surprise on his face.

"What did you say?" He asked with a frown, trying to make sure he heard you correctly.

You moved closer to him on the couch, taking hold of his hand into yours.

"I love you, Terry, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you right then and there last week. I was scared and a little overwhelmed with feelings, but I realized I had nothing to fear." You said, getting a little teary while holding his hand.

"You've shown me who you are, Terry; you're everything I've ever longed for. I thought I could never love again after Scott, but you've proved me wrong. I love being around you and how you make me feel. I want to have another chance at love again, and I want that to be with you." You finished with a kiss on his hand.

Terry smiled, feeling bliss burst through his body after hearing your beautiful confession.

"Damn, baby girl, I'm so fucking happy to hear that. I-I love you," He said, which made you giggle and lean in, crashing your lips against his.

Terry wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

You moaned as he started kissing your neck, and you began lifting his shirt, feeling his abs.

He pulled back before things could escalate further, resting his forehead against yours.

"There's no rush into this; we can take it slow, baby," He whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Do you want me, Terry?" You asked, gently rubbing your forehead against his, feeling his breath on your cheek.

"Fuck...I do. I want you, and I want to show you how you make me feel! I just want to make sure you're ready," He says sincerely, his tone of voice turning you on.

"I am...I want you, Terry. I want you so badly; please show me, and don't hold back!" you purred into his ear.

He kissed you, lifted you from the couch, and carried you to his bedroom.

Terry positioned you on the edge of the bed, tenderly kissing you once more.

You brought him down to the bed with you, swiftly taking his shirt off as his hands reached to start unzipping your dress.

He pulls your dress over your head and starts kissing your neck and grasping your plump breasts in his hands.

You moaned at his touch, holding his arm as he unhooked your peach-colored bra before moving down to your matching panties.

"Mmm, baby, you're already wet for me? You've been waiting for this to happen, huh?" Terry's voice rumbled with a deep, lustful tone, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Does this feel good, baby?" Terry asked, started circling motion through your panties with his fingers, making you moan with pleasure.

"Yes...Terry," you whispered his name softly. He hovered and began leaving kisses down your stomach to your inner thigh.

He was teasing you, and you didn't like that at all. You needed him; you wanted him.

"Terry, please," You begged desperately.

"Please, what, baby girl? You use your words. Tell me what you want?" He said it so dominantly, which you loved in a man in the bedroom.

You sit up slightly, letting out a whimper while looking into his eyes that were filled with lust and love.

"I need you, Daddy. I need to feel your mouth; I need your everything," You begged, eyes wide and filled with an irresistible lust and love.

"That's it, baby, that's what I want to hear," He said in a hushed tone, ripping your panties, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Terry chuckles, removing the rest of your panties before spreading your legs a little wider for him to plunge his tongue between my wet folds.

A moan escaped your lips as your head fell back to the bed, hands finding Terry's head.

The grip of his strong hands on your thighs as he devours your pussy has your head spinning.

His lips capture your clit, and suck it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

"Ahhh....yes, Terry...yes!" you moaned, gripping his arm, your fingers digging into his flesh as steading yourself on the bed.

Terry muffled in your pussy, sending wild rumble through your body; he slid in one finger, then two, crooking them to massage your sweet spot.

"Fuck..you taste so good, baby girl. And doing so well for me," He said, gazing up at you from your pussy, overflowing with praise.

His eyes shimmered with pride and love, and you returned the same look, eagerly wanting, needing more from him.

"Keep fucking lookin at me like that, beautiful girl. and you'll get what you want," He says in his deep voice.

You kept your eyes on him as his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard to make you squirt.

Terry was truly fingering and eating' this kitty kat as if it was the last official meal of his life.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my god, I can't...I can't...I can't take it anymore." You moaned and struggled to break free, but his grip kept you in place.

You feel him pull his fingers out and focus all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

"Shhh... you got this, baby. You've been doing so good for Daddy!" Terry says, going back in.

You cried in pleasure, feeling your body tense; you knew you were close to the edge.

You grasped the crisp sheets of the bed as you felt the rush of exhilaration coursing through your body.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I'm gonna fucking cum" You cried, exploding on his lips with a gust sound.

"Mmm, that's it, baby, you taste so sweet," Terry said with a smirk while your juices were all over his face.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down from your high. Terry wiped his mouth before slowly moving up to hover over you.

Terry began planting soft, lingering kisses up your body until he finally reached your lips, almost stealing your breath away.

You smirked into the kisses at him and flipped him on his back down to the bed.

You unbelt his jeans and, taking them down with his underwear, gasped at the sight of his thickness.

"You're so big...and juicy, Daddy," You said softly, started stroking him a little bit before taking his throbbing dick deep in your throat.

"Fuck!" Terry grunts, holding your hair back with both hands. You start bobbing up and down his shaft heavily, your hand stroking him.

"So fucking good, baby, Taking me in so well, fucking gobble on that dick," He says, gently placing his hand on the back of your head, cradling it with care.

You loved how dirty he was talking to you. It was turning you on more—a sweet, caring man who knew how to talk dirty. *love it*

Terry sits up on an elbow to start fucking your face, making an even pace to thrust into your mouth.

You moaned, enjoying every minute of it simply because his dick tasted so heavenly in your mouth.

You popped him out of the mouth with a gasp of saliva before biting your lip to stroke him between your plump breasts.

"How does this feel Daddy?" you asked, sensing he was about to bust with the expression on his face.

"Fuck, baby. So good, so fuck....I'm about to" He stopped mid-sentence, feeling his cum shoot out of the tip of the dick.

Went all over his stomach, your breasts...a little bit of your face. You smiled happily, cleaning it up with your tongue.

You lay next to him, kissing his neck while observing him slowly calming down from his high.

Terry looks over at you with a grin before he reaches your lips; he gently moves on top, igniting a fiery and passionate kiss that leaves your heart racing.

His dick rubs against your wet folds, not daring to enter but just rubbing and teasing.

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time.

He then wraps your legs around his waist, burying his face into your neck before starts thrusting slowly while kissing your neck.

You placed your hands on his back as he went faster than before.

"Yes...Yes...just like that. It feels so good, Terry," You whispered in his ear.

He moves away a little bit to grip your waist as your hands move to grip his strong, toned arms.

Both of you stared at each other while moaning and groaning at the great pleasure you two were receiving from one another.

You were loving the way every inch of his dick was pounding inside your soaked, wet pussy.

You began rubbing your clit to feel yourself rising again. "Oh, Terry, it feels so good. Don't stop, don't stop."

"I won't ever stop, baby...fuck...that pussy clenching that dick," Terry groaned, pushing you to lay sideways.

He grips your ass cheek, pounding into you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Your breasts bounced with every rhythm of thrust he gave you. He wrapped his hand around your neck while putting a finger in your mouth.

Your body again began to shake as you felt your second orgasm begin to build and rise quickly.

You both kissed entirely in sync, feeling your walls tightening around him, and the next thing you knew.

Both of you came together.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Terry repeatedly cursed, slipping out, resting his dick against your ass cheek while stroking the cum out of the tip.

You and Terry gradually eased back from the intense rush before tenderly assisting each other in tidying up.

His chest rose and fell gently beneath your head as his left arm lazily draped over your waist.

"That was amazing!" you said while gazing at Terry, who responded with a tired, soft smile.

"For sure, baby girl," he whispers with a chuckle, tenderly pressing his lips against your forehead.

After that evening, your routine with Terry remained the same, except you two were now a couple.

And after dating for months and establishing boundaries, everything was going amazingly good.

Eventually, Terry met your mom, and she adored him; they got along so well.

Months passed by swiftly in years, and you both faced ups and downs, but you overcame them, and your relationship strengthened.

Your love has deepened, and you find yourselves falling more deeply in love with him each day.

You remembered the day your mother advised you to take a chance with Terry, and you were so glad you did.

"What's going on, that pretty little head of yours?" Terry inquired, gently drawing you away from your thoughts.

You both just left a charming seaside restaurant after celebrating your third anniversary.

The sound of waves crashing in the distance filled the air, drawing you two for a nice walk on the beach.

"I'm just thinking," You said with a soft chuckle, wrapping your arm tightly around his, holding on closely.

"About?" he asked with a playful grin, gently nudged your arm, eliciting a joyous giggle from you.

"How amazingly you and I worked out. How lucky I am that I got to meet and fall in love with you," you said, stopping you two on the beach.

Terry looks at you with such love and warmth before kissing your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He pulled away, cupping your face with his hand before speaking so sweetly and softly.

"You know, baby girl, I feel the same. I always wondered how lucky I am to meet and fall deeply in love with such an angel. You know you always ensured I felt your unconditional love and sense of security. You embraced every part of me, the good and bad, and never judged me. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, baby," he says, getting down on one knee.

You gasped in disbelief at the scene before you. The love of your life was asking you to marry him.

You had a hunch this moment would arrive, yet you were a little overwhelmed by it.

"Baby, I wanna get married, I wanna have a family, and I wanna see our kids grow up while we grow old together." He shared with a tearful chuckle, and you laughed alongside him.

In a trembling, anxious voice, Terry asked, "So..will you marry me?"

Overwhelmed with emotion.

You replied, "Terry, yes! I love you so much. Yes, I will marry you."

"Really?" he asked happily, and you nodded excitedly; he stood up and gently placed the ring on your finger.

"I love you so much, baby, "Terry said, lifting and spinning you around in pure joy.

You found immense happiness and overcame guilt by following your heart all those years ago.

However, this was only the start of your happier ever after with Terry.

[thebearer]

baby blues |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: two blue lines change all your plans, and carmen doesn't take it well. or how you tell carmen you're pregnant.

read the entire dad!carmen berzatto masterlist here!

contains: language, pregnancy, angst, carmen's an asshole, alludes to past parent trauma, hurt/comfort.

"Shit."

The hiss of your tone bounced off the green tiles of your bathroom, an eerie echo that rang dully through your mind. A reminder that this was all too real, happening right now in front of you- to you.

After weeks of what you thought was a stomach bug- retching at almost anything, exhaustion, aches- you had come to realize it might not just be a virus when you looked at the unopened box of tampons under the sink.

You were late.

A frantic trip to Walgreens, an hour of avoidance out of pure fear, three glasses of water, and two tests later; you were here. Looking at the two mocking blue lines on both tests. You were pregnant.

You called your best friend, Alicia, unsure of who else to confide in. Scared, emotional, overwhelmed, you sobbed into the phone, hand holding your head on the edge of the bed. "Carmen is gonna lose his shit."

"Carmen is not gonna lose his shit." Alicia soothed over your heaving gasps. "He will be fine. You both will be fine. You're married. What's the issue?"

You shook your head, swiping your thumb under your eyes. "You don't... Carmen and I haven't, like, ever really talked about kids." You muttered. It was mostly true. You hadn't really, other than euphoric pillow talk ramblings where you both were just bubbly with love, spilling shared wishes under sheets.

"I thought you said you wanted kids?"

"Yeah, but not now." You sobbed into the phone. "I don't... I don't think I'm ready to be a mom. I'm not gonna be good at that. I don't-I don't know anything about kids! And-And I can barely cook, and- Alicia, I couldn't keep our cactus alive! I killed our fucking cactus, and you think I'm ready for a kid?"

Alicia laughed lightly on the other end. "Ok, true, but you won't kill your kid. You'll be much more attached to it than the cactus." She countered easily, calmly. "And you'll be a good mom, babe. I know you'll be. And Carmen knows too. You know he does. Call your OBGYN and get an appointment. Make sure this is legit and get your vitamins and let me know what you need from me."

Two days later, you were laid on the cool paper at the doctor's office, eyes wide watching her drag the wand over your tummy. Seven weeks. The ultrasound clutched in your hand had an arrow where the baby was, it was still so small. A blip, a splotch right on your plans.

You decided to tell Carmen that night. He knew something was off with you, starting to get more and more suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

"Hey, baby." You grinned as excited as you could when he came home.

"Hey," Carmen chirped, grinning back at you when you kissed him sweetly, a little longer than usual, not that he minded. "How are you doin', baby? Good day?"

"Yeah, it was." You quipped, throat tightening, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. "I, uh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Carmen's brows lifted, dropping his bag by the door. "What kinda surprise, huh? Somethin' under this?" He teased, hand sliding up your shorts, palming at your ass and making you squirm.

You couldn't help the fleeting thought that he wouldn't be able to do that for long. Not when a baby was in the house. Your throat burned with tears at the thought.

"No." You shook your head. "Just... Here, sit right here for me and I'll be right back." You kissed his cheek sweetly, running to the spare bedroom for the ultrasound. You wondered if this would be the baby's nursery. Or maybe upstairs in the makeshift workout room Carmen used. It felt odd planning this type of thing, thinking about this.

Your hands were sweaty, trying not to wrinkle the printed photo. It was your first after all. The first picture of many. Ones you secretly hoped would line the walls of your house. Pictures of the baby, with you and Carmen.

You hoped Carmen would be in them.

That horrid thought always made it's way back into your mind, rattling you to your core.

"Close your eyes." You tried to sing-song, playful and light like you usually would. The kind of tone that was silly, left Carmen grinning and doing what you said. Instead, it sounded tired.

Carmen still covered his eyes anyways. You took a soft breath, placing the photo in front of him. "Ok, y-you can open." You whispered.

Carmen's brow lifted, looking at you carefully before down at the table. He stilled, face unmoving, body halted, eyes zoned in on the ultrasound.

"Wh-What-What is this?" Carmen's tone was hushed, tight, like his chest felt. He was sure this wasn't what he thought it was. It couldn't be.

"I, um, you know I-I've been feeling not great." You started, wringing your hands in front of him. "And I... I haven't had my period in a while, so I went to the store and... and I got a test, and it was..." You motioned down to the ultrasound. "I'm pregnant, Carmen."

The house was still. That same eerie stillness creeping back in, looming over both of you in such a sickening way, it had your stomach twisting.

Carmen blinked, shaky hands picking up the ultrasound, refusing to look at you. "Oh."

"Oh?" You repeated. "Carmen, I-I said I'm pregnant."

"No, no, I, uh, yeah, I-I heard you." Carmen nodded, leg bouncing under the table. "I just... I thought you were on birth control."

"Carmen, what?" You snapped. "I am."

"Then-Then how the fuck-"

"-Oh, don't you fuckin' dare, Berzatto." You hissed, rolling your eyes at him, snatching the ultrasound off the table.

"I'm not fuckin' blaming you, but-but how?" Carmen could feel his heart rate rising, ears ringing and head spinning with that old, familiar feeling of a panic attack coming on.

"How?" You gawked at him. "Carmen, it's not, like, a one-hundred percent guarantee, and-and... Come on, Carmen, we've been fucking a lot lately."

"I don't..." Carmen stopped himself, his hand rubbing over his eyes. Your heart skipped, chest aching with fear when you looked at him. Carmen pushed his chair out, standing and pacing around the kitchen, hands on his hips, lips in a thin line. "I-I need to think. Fuck, I need to think, just-just..."

You tracked him, your own heart hammering loud in your ears. Carmen snatched his cigarettes, hands shaking when he turned them over in his hands slowly. You could practically hear his thoughts, when the baby is here, he can't smoke anymore.

"I need a fuckin' second, ok? I need to fuckin' think!" Carmen boomed, voice thundering off the walls, making you jump. Carmen snatched his lighter and Spirits, stomping out the front door, the slam of the door the last thing you heard before the house settled and stilled again. Your worst possible scenario played out in front of you, becoming a reality too.

You were alone.

"Cousin, can I ask you, what the fuck your fuckin' problem is?" Richie grit, sliding beside Carmen. "The fuck are you being such a jagoff about, right now?"

"I'm being a jagoff?" Carmen snapped, slamming the knife down. His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. Curls matted and sticking out like they did when Carmen was stressed, when he'd ran his hands through them too much.

"Yeah, you're bein' a fuckin' jagoff." Richie countered, voice raising over Carmen's. "You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you're treatin' everyone here like fuckin' shit. So what's the fuckin' issue?"

"Fuck you, Richie, alright? Fuck you. Get the fuck outta my fuckin' face!" Carmen roared, the vein in his neck protruding when he did, sending the few chefs still in the kitchen retreating before they were screamed at next.

"Y'know why don't you just fuckin' calm down? Makin' everyone here fuckin' miserable with your bad attitude. No wonder-" Richie stopped, eyes flicking down to Carmen. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavy at his own revelation. "What'd you do?"

"What? What did I... Fuck off, I'm not in the-"

"-Nah, Cousin. What did you do?" Richie shook his head. "Why's she not here today, huh?"

"I'm right here." Natalie muttered, turning the corner, balancing two cups and a large work bag. "I had to take Chelle to Pete's office so he can take her to dance, and traffic was..." Natalie laughed cynically, shaking her head.

Carmen felt his stomach twist, jaw tightening. That would be you two before you knew it. All over the place, late to shit because of the kid. Just like Sugar and fucking Pete. That made him Pete.

"Not you, but I'm glad to see you. How are you?" Richie muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to Sugar's cheek. "Carmen fucked up."

"I did not-"

"-You fucked up? On what, bear?" Natalie blinked, frowning lightly. "Oh, before I forget, where's my favorite sister in law? I have her-" Richie gave her a pointed look. Sugar stopped, face falling in realization. "Oh, that's... Carm, what did you do?"

"Can you two just fuck off? Fuck!" Carmen roared, kicking a pot under the table.

"Wow, anger issues much?" Sugar rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Is this what you did? Is that why she isn't here?"

"No, Natalie, you're pissin' me the fuck off-"

"Alright!" Richie clapped his hands, cutting them both off. "Family meeting. Ok? Meeting time. Right now."

"I don't have time-" Carmen started, Richie just clapping his hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the table.

"Natalie, family meeting." Richie waved her in.

"Family meeting?" Fak turned the corner, eyes lit up hopefully.

"Not with you, you fuckin'..." Richie huffed, shaking his head. "Me, Nat, and Carm are having a meeting. Do your jobs, ok? Don't bother us, just... handle it, alright? Thank you. Every second counts and all that bullshit." Richie nodded towards the staff, shutting Carmen's office door behind him.

"Carm, you... Are you ok?" Natalie winced, looking at her younger brother.

Carmen ran his hands over his eyes, slumped in his desk chair, knees bouncing nervously. His breaths labored and ragged in his hands. Richie's eyes cut to Natalie's.

"Cousin," Richie's voice was softer this time. "What is goin' on?"

Carmen took a shaky breath in, Richie stilling at the sound of his emotions. "You... You were right. I fucked up." Carmen muttered. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." Carmen's voice was tight, thick with tears he was trying to choke back.

Natalie stepped forward slowly. "Carmen, what did you do?" She said as calmly as she could. "Just-Just tell us, and we'll... we'll try and help you."

"Did you cheat on her?" Richie asked, brows furrowed in disgust.

"No, what? Why the... No, no, no, I-I..." Carmen leaned back in the chair, hands knotted in his hair. "She's pregnant."

Richie and Natalie paused, both sighing slightly in relief. "Oh my God, that's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, Cousin, I thought you... I'm glad you didn't, but that's great!"

"Aw, is that why she's been sick? Poor thing. I knew it! You know Pete said that, and I-" Natalie started, Carmen's sudden jerk of his body, sitting in the chair with frantic eyes stopped her.

"I don't know!" Carmen blurted, shaking his head, refusing to look at them. At their furrowed brows of concern. He couldn't face them. Tell them what he'd done.

"You don't know?" Sugar frowned in confusion. "You don't know if she's pregnant?"

"I-I..." Carmen felt his chest tightening, burning with that familiar ache. He tried to breathe in, slow and long, counting back from ten like his therapist told him, but his chest still ached. "I left."

The room filled with that same eerie silence, the one that seemed to be following him around lately. The one that crept into the room when you showed him the ultrasound, the same one that followed him into the restaurant last night.

"You left?"

"You fuckin' what?"

Natalie and Richie gawked, eyes wide and frantic, looking down at Carmen.

"Cousin... What the fuck? You don't... Holy shit." Richie muttered, shaking his head.

"Carmen, have you lost your mind?" Natalie snapped. She was angry- no, furious. "You left your wife? You left your pregnant wife?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, I just... I needed to fuckin' think!" Carmen threw his hands out. "I can't think! She just... We weren't planning it and-and then... I just needed to think!"

"Then think at home! Or-Or with the person you're having a baby with, Carmen, Jesus!" Natalie roared back.

"Cousin, you... you fucked up." Richie said solemnly, nodding in agreement. "I mean, I've done a lot of shit. A lot, ok? Just ask Tiff. But I...I never fuckin' left."

"No, she just fuckin' left you, right? Tiff couldn't take you bein' an-"

"Hey, woah, take it fuckin' easy, Cousin. Watch it. This ain't about me." Richie snarled, finger jabbing in Carmen's direction. "I didn't fuck this up, ok? You did. This is your shit. We're just tryin' to fuckin' help you, so why don't you do all that de-escelatin' bullshit and take a fuckin' breath and relax."

Carmen's teeth ground tight, eyes flickering over to Natalie. "I'm with Richie on this." She snapped. "You did fuck up. Huge."

Carmen could feel the burn, rising in his throat. Was it fear? Vomit? Tears? Regret? All of the above?

"I know, I know, fuck, I know." Carmen muttered, falling back into the chair. "I just... I know, and-and now I don't know..." Carmen could feel his heart rate, waves of guilt and realization crashing over him, leaving him feeling sick.

Carmen stood quickly, hands tangled in his hair, pacing in the small area of the office. "Holy shit, she's gonna leave me. She-She's gonna leave me, and-and... Fuck! Why do I always do this? I always fuck up! Always! Like... What the fuck? Why-Why-"

"-Carmen." Sugar said slowly, hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Just... Just relax, ok?"

"No, no, no, I-I can't fuckin' relax. I-I got to-" Carmen rambled, his chest squeezing, burning.

"Carm, look, just... Just do the breathing thing. Listen to Natalie." Richie nodded towards Sugar. "And we'll get it handled, alright? We can't fix this until you calm the fuck down."

"Richie," Natalie hissed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "Carmen, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Innnnn and Out." She mimicked for him, slow pulls of air and soft exhales.

Carmen could hear you. Hear you in his head telling him to calm down, feel your hands on his cheeks, your soft praises and coos. His heart ached but it tricked his mind enough to listen, shaky rasps of air falling in and out until he was on sitting in the chair, knee bouncing with adrenaline.

Natalie shook her head lightly, looking over at Richie, then Carmen. "You need to go talk to her."

"I know. I know, Nat, but I got a dinner rush-"

"Carmen." Natalie sneered, in that tone. The tone she used usually with her own kids. A tone of finality.

"I got it covered, Cousin, alright? I got it." Richie nodded, patting Carmen on his back. "Just... Go figure your shit out."

"Yeah." Natalie huffed, eyes narrowed at her younger brother. "You better bring that poor girl some flowers or something. Better make it up to her, Carmen, that is so gross of you."

Carmen nodded softly, grabbing his back pack, shedding his apron. "I-I'll have my phone on me-"

"-Go!" Richie and Natalie yelled in unison.

"I got it, Cousin." Richie shook his head.

"Yeah, and you have other things to worry about." Natalie snapped. "More important things, like your marriage, and your kid."

Carmen's heart skipped at that. It sounded weird, unnatural. His kid. Mind racing back to images of you with his niece and nephew. How Chelle took to you so naturally when you first met her, cradling her in your arms while Natalie scampered off for a shower. Carmen's heart swelled at the thought, how he had watched you, how good you were at it.

He knew you'd be a good mom. Had no doubt about that. That wasn't the issue. No, the problem was him.

Carmen Berzatto, who's family was the epitome of chaos, and who's genes this baby would have. Would the baby have your eyes and his crippling anxiety? His curls and his coping skills? Your nose and smile, and his family's addiction gene?

You would be the perfect mom. You were already so perfect in every way to Carmen. Too kind and forgiving and funny and sweet to him, he couldn't understand why you loved him sometimes. You would be good no matter what.

You'd be better without him.

His mind screamed it over and over. He couldn't shake the thought last night, sitting on the steps of your home, chain smoking through half a pack while his mind raced, horrible voices mocking and sneering at him, telling him he wasn't good enough; that he wouldn't be good enough. That you would be better off alone.

Then he was walking. Walking as fast as he could away from your home, back to the restaurant, where he could distract himself. Where he could trick his mind to focus on anything else other than you.

It didn't work, of course. It never did.

His mind still raced, all the way back to your home- his home. The home he shared with you. The place you bought for the future; your future together. A future that now, looked like it would be a little fuller.

You gripped the porcelain of the toilet seat, stomach lurching again, spilling the contents of- you didn't even know what. How there was anything left, you weren't sure.

Your nose burned with tears, head drumming with a dull ache, throat burning with the acidity flare of bile. And worst of all, the only person you wanted was Carmen.

You were furious, hurt, just... confused with him, but your body still ached for him. For him to come in, rub your back and coo at you. Settle you and calm you, like he always did.

The front door closed softly, the thud of the latch echoing through the all too still house. Anchovy chirped and trilled, Carmen's soft, raspy greeting back to him making your body jolt.

You stayed still, waiting and quiet with each muffled footstep of Carmen's, his sneakers falling closer and closer until the door opened gently. Your gaze on his, watching him with wide, red rimmed eyes from the bathroom floor. His own reflecting down on you, hand still gripping the door knob.

"You... You're still sick?" Carmen asked, awkward and unsure. He didn't know what to say, where to even begin.

"Yeah." You sneered, hand slapping on the knob, flushing the toilet. "Guess that'll be happening for a while."

Carmen flinched at your tone. You were angry. No, you were hurt. The revelation made him feel like he needed to throw up next, the ache in his stomach rivaling the one in his chest.

You pushed up off the tub, Carmen's hands reaching to help you. You slapped them away with a menacing scoff. "Don't touch me." You snapped. "I've got it."

Carmen nodded, backing out slowly, giving you space to brush your teeth. He didn't miss the tremor in your hands when you held the toothbrush, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I..." Carmen's voice shook, a squeak of a word that had wobbled when he spoke. "I, uh, I-I'm sorry."

Your eyes flashed to his furiously, lips pursing. "I know that's... fuck, that's not..." Carmen sighed heavily, a grounding breath to soothe his nerves, get the shake out of his voice. "I don't know what-what else to say other than... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You sneered, turning to him, your tone unnervingly calm. "You're fucking sorry?"

"Yeah, I-"

"-You left me!" You roared, chest heaving with fury. Your fears and sadness had turned into rage, pure rage.

"I go outside to check on you, and you're gone! Who the fuck does that, Carmen? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You screamed.

"I-I don't know, I just..." Carmen's chest tightened, strangling his words. The pounding in his chest had returned, as had the queasiness in his stomach.

"You just? Just what, Carmen? Just don't want to be with me anymore?" Your voice cracked, tears brimming your waterline.

The silence was back. Uncomfortably loud and suffocating. Neither one of you moved, just stared at each other through heaving chests.

"I-I..." Carmen swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "How could you... You think I-I don't want to be with you?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, Carmen?" You scoffed, throwing your hands out in exasperation. "You left!"

Carmen winced at the harshness of your tone. "I didn't... I just needed to think-"

"-Think?" You scoffed. "Think about what exactly, Carmen? Huh? Whether you were going to stay-"

"-No! Fuck, no!" Carmen barked, mind racing and overwhelmed. Hands trembling, heart pounding, he stared at you. "About... About how it would be. About how I would be."

"How you would be?"

"Yeah, how I would be." Carmen snaps, a little too defensive even for his own liking. It was habit, even after years of trying to be better, it still crept out at times.

Carmen took a breath, turning to you. "I'm... I don't think I'm going to be a good dad."

Your own heart sunk, a dull ache in your chest, heavy with the weight of his words. The fall of his face, lips curling downward. "Carmen," You said softly. "Why-Why would you... We've talked about having kids before."

"Yeah, but not... I thought I had time." Carmen admitted, hands shaking when he crossed his arms over his chest to still them. "I-I thought I would have some time to-to get my shit together."

You paused, watching his face crumble. The deep breath he took to keep himself from crying- from breaking. "I don't- I don't wanna be a bad dad. I don't wanna fuck this kid up." Carmen whispered, eyes darting everywhere but your own. He couldn't look at you when he said it, sure when he saw the sorrow in your own eyes he would crumble at your feet.

"Carmen," You said softly, taking a step towards him. He took one back, distancing himself. He knew what you were going to do. Reach out and comfort him, make him feel better- he didn't deserve that.

"Carm, please," You begged lightly. "You... You know you're gonna be a good dad-"

"-No, no, I don't know that." Carmen scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, my fuckin' dad was a piece of shit, so was his dad, so-so will I. And-And I don't wanna do that to this kid. I don't wanna do that to you."

"Stop." You snapped, lips pressed together, sniffling to keep your own tears at bay. "Just...Just stop. Ok? Stop. You're... Do you really think I would have married you if I thought that bad of you? Do you think I would have ever even entertained the thought of having a baby with you, starting a family, if I thought you'd be shitty?"

Carmen's own eyes shone with unshed tears. You blinked, wiping the hot tears that ran down your cheeks away. "I'm scared, too. I-I called Alicia over you because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how you would react." You admitted.

Carmen nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes. "So you knew I would react like this? You didn't tell me because you knew I'd be a bad-"

"-No, I didn't tell you because I know you don't like surprises." You snapped. "I know you don't like to be fuckin' blindsided and-and shocked. I don't either. I knew it would shock you. I knew it wasn't apart of our plan right now." You held his gaze, eyes hard when you met his.

"But I never thought you'd be a bad dad." Your tone was firm. It made Carmen's heart swell. "I still don't think you'd be a bad dad, for the record. I think you're an asshole, and I'm furious with you." You said pointedly.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I... I don't blame you f'that." He muttered, looking down at his hands, wedding band shining almost mockingly back up at him. "Sugar's pissed at me. Richie, too." He paused, eyes lifting to yours. "I'm mad at me too."

"Yeah? Me too." You sigh, looking at him. "You can't just leave-"

"-I know." Carmen nodded. "I-I know. I don't... I'm sorry." Carmen looked at you, shoulders falling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

You nodded gently, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "This is not how I thought this would go, honestly." You admitted with a small, wet laugh.

"Which part?" Carmen hummed, hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tear stained cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"All of it." You sighed. "But telling you. I-I always thought I'd do one of those cute, little Pinteresty things and surprise you."

"Yeah? 'm sorry." Carmen muttered, his heart fluttering with guilt again. "Maybe next time?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Damn him, making you smile when you were supposed to be mad at him- you were still mad at him. But you were tired even more. Exhausted emotionally, physically- you just wanted to crawl into bed.

Carmen pulled you closer to him, his hand running down your spine. "Maybe you can do that cutesy shit to tell everyone else." He suggested. "I mean... Fuck, well, I-I told Richie and-and Sugar, but... Tina? Or all them?"

You bit back a smile, the curl of your lips betraying you. "Yeah." You hum, your body betraying you as you sunk into Carmen's chest.

"Here," Carmen muttered, pulling you close to him. "I'll get you in bed, and I'll go on the couch-"

"-No," You sighed, shuffled steps down the hall. "I don't... Just sleep in the bed with me."

Carmen hesitated. "No, I-I can stay on the couch. I know you don't-"

"-I can't sleep without you, Carm." You pleaded. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and-and... I just want to sleep."

Carmen nodded, following you into the shared bedroom. Stripping out of his jeans, trading them for sweatpants, before climbing in the bed with you. You stayed on your side, Carmen on his own. There was still tension, still lingering feelings of that familiar eeriness, but there was also comfortability.

Carmen would make it up to you. He'd be at every appointment, paint the nursery- be everything you knew he would be. Later. In the coming weeks as you two welcomed, embraced the baby coming. You'd get to tell everyone in your cutesy way like you'd dreamed. Tina's reaction would make you cry, and the baby shower would make you sob. You'd mull over baby names for hours with Carmen, going back and forth, testing each name tentatively until you found the perfect one.

For now, you were happy just to know Carmen was here with you. You were happy just to sleep. There was still so much ahead of you- of both of you.

[luveline]

if you felt comfortable would you write the KBU au with steve and reader during/just after the birth of avery? 🥺

kisses before dinner —you and steve have a baby. mom!reader, 1.1k

Just like that, Steve's a dad. 

He wonders if he's supposed to feel different, and he does in little ways. Exhausted, worried, and unbearably happy —the kind of happiness to make your ribs hurt— Steve is feeling a hundred layers of emotion right now, but it isn't his emotion that takes centre stage, it's yours. 

You've been stiff with panic since your contractions started, and while that panic turned to happy tears the moment they laid her on your chest, you're looking at the baby like you're terrified of her, stiffness returned. Genuine fear. 

"Come on," he says softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "She's not half as ugly as we worried."

She's beautiful. Steve's legs hurt after all these hours of standing by your side, and he can't bear to look away from the baby's face, her face, and it doesn't matter. You're his priority. He juggles these two things as he assumes he'll be juggling them for the rest of his life, happily if clumsily. 

"Please smile, honey," he says. 

You relax almost imperceptibly with his murmuring. "I am smiling." 

"You're grimacing. Ten dollar word." He crouches and steps back enough for you to see his face clearly. "Are you happy? Like, truthfully?" he asks, knowing 'truthfully' isn't a word he says. Accusing the new mother of his child of lying feels a bit dick-ish, though.

"Of course I'm happy." 

"It's okay if you're not happy. I'm not happy if you're not happy, I'm–" 

"Steve." Your smile is sad in a way, but your eyes aren't half as scared as they were. "I am happy, I'm just worried. No more trial run… I'm a mom." 

"You're a mom." He doesn't mean to say it with the world's cheesiest smile. "I didn't know they made 'em like you, I would've started chasing moms years ago." 

You laugh. He's always loved your laugh because it's yours, and it couldn't come at a better time, not even when you were pushing. None of them sounded as happy as this one. "I'm a mom," you say, still laughing. 

"I know." He leans in to dash a kiss against your cheek. You perk up at the attention, so he does it twice more. 

“This is gonna be so fun,” you say. 

His heart rears to explode. Steve puts one hand on yours under the weight of the baby and the other behind your shoulder. “Just don't let me drop her,” you say.

“My hand’s already there.” 

“Okay. I love you. Are you sure?” 

“Don't freak out.” He thinks so many things in that moment but the loudest is, aw, my girl. “You're good, babe, I love you. This is gonna be fun, just like you said. We're gonna love it.” 

Steve sits on the side of the bed and holds you like that for a while. You relax at the support and watch the baby's little face in sleep. She has the most dainty face Steve has ever seen in person. She's so, so small. He kinda thought she'd be bigger considering the whole nine month gestation period and all your aches and pains, but she's perfect. He could fit her in two hands. 

“Avery,” you say. 

You picked it out together ages ago. Seeing her now cements it. “Avery,” he repeats happily, failing to resist the urge to touch her face again. 

You need time to recover and thankfully, the nurses and doctors haven't rushed the process. You're clean but in pain, and Steve gets to hold the baby by himself while you change. 

“Can I help?” he asks, watching you wince. You barely want to stand. 

“No, just hold her.” 

“She won't break if we put her down. She's safer in the bassinet anyways,” he says. 

Your eyes spark with panic as he goes to stand, so he sits, and he chews his cheek raw while you struggle into fresh clothes. 

A knock on the door startles you both. “Hello? Y/N? Steve?” Robin's scratchy voice echoes through the door. Her excitement is unmissable. 

“Yeah, Rob!” 

She opens the door carefully but enters the room less so. There's so much stuff hanging from the crooks of her elbows she can hardly carry it. “Hey! Oh my god, hey! Is that her? Of course it's her. Is she okay? She's okay, are you okay?” She turns her gaze on you. “Holy shit, do you need help?” 

You've only got a couple of buttons to do and the waistband of your pants to cinch, but Robin immediately drops all of her things to help you finish. 

Steve shares his first private smile with his very first daughter. “She's not always like this,” he murmurs. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin asks. She sounds treacherously concerned and overwhelmingly happy. 

“Maybe she is,” he adds. 

“I'm okay, Robin,” you say, reaching for her hand. “It hurts worse than people say. But it's over now.” 

“Thank Jesus!” Robin finishes her buttoning and ties a deft bow with your drawstrings. “Come on, mom, let's get you back to bed. Jesus, Steve, you couldn't have helped her?” She's mostly kidding. 

Steve lifts Avery. “She put me on baby duty.” 

Robin almost trips over her bags trying to get to him. “Steve,” she says, as though this one word should be enough for him, planting herself by his side. It's been a long time since he bothered trying to put boundaries between them, he doesn't even want them, he's proud as he can be as he lowers the baby to give his best friend ample view of her. While she looks, he lifts his gaze to you where you limp back to the bed. 

“Oh,” he says, “Rob, are you ready to hold her? Meet your niece. Arms out.” 

Robin stammers but holds her arms out. Steve transfers Avery in her swaddle carefully as careful can be. “Hold her head, okay? Lean back.” 

“Wait, you made this look easy. Steve–” 

Your eyes are wide as he stands and turns away from the bed. “Steve,” you say. 

“No more saying my name in this room, it's banned,” he says, putting his hands under your arms to make sure you're steady where you stand. You stop walking, pain in the line of your mouth. “Come on, honey. Let's get you back to bed.” 

Your eyes shine with tears, but you don't cry. You use his arms to push back up onto the bed and shuffle slowly into position before you put your arms out. He leans in for a hug. 

“Oh, Steve,” you say with a laugh, all soft and warm, having found the only exception to his new rule, “I wanted the baby back, honey.” 

“I know,” he sighs. 

[georgeclarkesgf]

Hiiiiii ❤️❤️

Would you be up for writing any George Clarke fics about labour or birth???

here you go lovely <3

if you had to describe your labour in three words they would be long, painful and frustrating.

baby girl clarkey had clearly found your uterus an enjoyable place to live the past nine months. you were nine days overdue when your water broke and throughout labour, she seemed to be refusing to descend. in an attempt to lessen the pain and quicken the process, the midwife recommended a birthing ball. you nodded, hoping gravity would do its job. you were also grateful for anything that would provide you with some relief. george carefully guided you to sit on the ball since he wanted to be useful��in any way he could. a tired smile was thrown his way and he felt like crying seeing how much pain you were in.

"i'm so incredibly proud of you my love. it won't be long till we get to meet our babygirl," he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and moves behind you to redo your hair, "i hope she looks like you."

"why?" you questioned, sensing the start of yet another contraction.

"cause you're beautiful."

"you're so cheesy." george's jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.

he started massaging your back as you concentrated on breathing through another contraction. the midwife kept checking your progress and her heartbeat and after what seemed like days, she finally said the words you were so excited and yet so scared to hear.

"alright y/n, it's time to push. let's have this baby." you turned to look at george, a terrified expression on your face.

"baby, you can do this. everyone knows it." he gave you a reassuring smile.

the midwife and george went to help you up off the ball to the bed before you stopped them, "wait, i want george there. on the bed i mean. behind me."

in a matter of seconds, he was on the bed after getting the midwife's nod of approval and removing his shoes and jumper. before the need to push hit, you got comfortable, laying against george's chest. screaming, crying, and lots of encouraging words filled the next few minutes. you gripped george's hands tightly as each contraction came and pushed hard until the sound you had been waiting months to hear filled the room.

your beautiful baby girl's cry.

she was placed on your chest, and a rush of overwhelming love and relief flooded over you. tears filled your eyes as you took in every detail of her. her tiny fingers and toes. her nose which she definitely got from you. everything about her was perfect. george, who was also crying, kissed your shoulder and stroked his baby girl's cheek.

"she's so perfect," he whispered, "i'm so, so, so proud of you. i love you."

BONUS

(i was gonna just end it there but i wanted to include telling the boys so have this)

you were in love with her, and both of you were enjoying and starting to adjust to life as a family of three, even if it had only been a few hours. labour had exhausted you but you seemed too overwhelmed with emotions to be able to sleep. you also hadn't had time to since both your families had arrived, wanting to meet the newest addition and check up on you both.

"george?" he hummed in acknowledgment, still enamored with his baby girl.

"you wanna facetime chris and them lot?" his head popped up at the question, moving from the side of the cot to sit by you on the bed.

"you sure? i don't want it to be too much. and i was quite enjoying our baby bubble." he brushed a piece of hair from your face, scanning your face for any sort of hesitance.

"me too," you agreed, "but i think they'll notice something's off when you don't go to the flat to watch the match tonight."

"well, i was still gonna go," he had a cheeky smirk on his face, watching for your reaction, to which you raise your eyebrows, "i'm joking. yea okay, let's facetime them."

george grabbed his phone and face timed chris, knowing the rest of the group will already be there for the match. the phone rang for a few seconds before he answered.

"alright mate?" chris asked, before realising george wasn't on his way like he thought he would be, "where are you? we're all waiting for you."

"uh, i actually won't make it tonight. something's come up. who's there anyway?" shouts of disappointment came from the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but quietly laugh.

"literally everyone. mr television, mr hill, chip, will, cal. you know the rest, do i have to name everyone? it's the boys." george cringed at that, knowing chris only says it to wind him up.

"chris, just shut up. can you put the phone somewhere please, i need everyone to be able to see me," you both watched as the phone was placed on the table and everyone filtered into shot one by one, "also, can someone please record this on their camera if they have it with them?"

you grabbed george's hand, knowing he was nervous, and nodded at him as though to ask if he was ready since you could hear some of the boys asking what was going on. he passed the phone to you, earning more looks of confusion before chip spoke up.

"y/n, we love you but what's with the teasing. we have a game to watch." you rolled your eyes, feeling the bed dip from george having just brought over your baby girl.

you couldn't contain your smile, "we have a surprise." you turned the camera to george, who was cradling your daughter in his arms.

the other end of the phone was silent for a few moments before they erupted into cheers.

"will, you owe me fifty quid." cal cheered, turning to him with a hand out expectantly.

"hang on a minute, you guys were betting on when i'd give birth?" you gasped as they all nodded their heads.

"you were nine days past your due date y/n. it was only a matter of time." will confirmed, handing cal his money.

"congratulations though guys, she's gorgeous. does she have a name yet?" arthur tv asked, as they all quieted down waiting.

you glanced at george, who nodded, knowing you had your heart set on a name, "yea. this is isla."

questions came one after the other from the boys, but george knew you were tired and isla needed to be fed. dad mode was evidently activated.

"guys calm down. we'll answer the questions when we see you but for now, you have a match to watch and we have a baby to feed. we just wanted you to know she was here." you all said goodbye to each other before the call ended, allowing you to go back to your own little bubble.

"we did it." you whispered, staring at the tiny little girl who somehow looked even smaller in george's arms.

"we did."

[tarjapearce]

I miss the soccer family, but I wanna have a fix about what happens during the birth of Rosie? :') I THINK THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE

Baby Rosie can't wait to meet her parents. Literally ~

As Rosie's pregnancy advanced, so did Miguel's eagerness when you reached the final stage of it. A couple of scares had him carrying you like a bride to the car and driving to the nearest hospital.

"She's such a troll already" you grumbled upon returning, tired, sore and so so sleepy.

"Maybe she's afraid the doctor will spank her too hard?" You giggled at his words.

His goofy attempts of lightening the mood always worked. He was a goof underneath an intimidating exterior. Your goof.

"At least we know she's excited to hear you" One of your hands took Miguel's to place it on your belly. His eyes twinkled upon seeing the fussing inside.

"She'll be a troublemaker." With a kiss on your cheek and a little belly rub, he resumed his task of getting home. Thankful that the lights were red to have that little moment with you.

Gabi was surprised to see you back, still pregnant.

"What happened, Mama?" she quickly fetched your slippers and helped you change shoes.

"Ay mi amor, your sister doesn't wanna come out yet."

"Pinche Rosie..."

Gabriella mumbled in a hushed tone, her potty mouth, thanks to Miguel, had been more prominent ever since she hit the thirteens.

"Where is the baby?" Asked the actual baby, Benjamin, while looking at you with his beautiful rusty brown and curious eyes.

"In the oven still, cariño"

"I thought it was on your belly?"

Miguel chuckled and helped to remove your coat.

"Alright, let Mama rest. Rosita will arrive when she feels like it. Are you hungry, mi vida?"

"Not really, but a hot cocoa would be great. God my back is killing me."

You whimpered as Miguel helped you to the couch, too exhausted to waddle over the bed, rubbing circles on your back.

----

That night had been hard, despite the doctors saying Rosie was fine, he couldn't help but think about you and your struggles on carrying his third child. Gabi had proven to be difficult enough, Benji had made an emotional mess out of you, but Rosie was definitely a challenge.

Big round belly nested between your thighs, your hands rubbed tiredly at the discomfort, trying to subdue it. An apologetic smile came to his lips as he kissed your temple. Conveying a fraction of his gratefulness towards you.

Little did you know that he was always marveling at your body and how this adapted so easy to pregnancy. The scientist in him was always observing and making mental notes on your cues to know when you were in pain and absolute discomfort. Right now, all he could do was to lay behind you and bask you in his body heat with a gentle hug.

He knew his temperature made wonders on your aching muscles, your lower back specially. Where the pressure accumulated. He also knew his children would be big, he was a big man after all, and having you go through such changes and pains just to carry his children, had turned in no other but the ultimate love proof from you.

You loved him. Not that you didn't show him, quite the opposite really. Sometimes his brain was too enraptured in seeing his children grow right before his eyes, that whenever you showered him in love it felt like experiencing it for the first time, despite thirteen years preceding you both.

You didn't know what had come over him that hugged you so gently, like holding the most beautiful thing a man could hold, and rubbed your belly softly. Admiring his part of the teamwork.

"Thank you." It came a soft whisper from his lips, "For going through this for us."

A lazy and sleepy smile stretched on your lips.

"You're so sappy I love it." You took his hands and kissed them, "You're the only man I'm willing to have children with. And the only man I'd ever got a baby fever with if I'm honest."

He chuckled in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. And look at us now. Expecting our third."

His hands massaged your shoulders gently, easing a bit of the building up tension. Then they moved to your breast. It wasn't erotic, but soothing. Intimate even. Your hands drooped as he moved them towards your belly, rubbing from the lowest to the tip, feeling the occasional kicks and movements his daughter replied with at his ministrations.

"You gotta come out, Rosita." He mumbled while his hands kept busy. You had been slowly drifting off to sleep.

---

Contractions appeared every seven minutes, seven minutes you used to breath and whimper. Miguel never left your side, not that you let him anyways, your hand clenched with a vice like grip he whimpered subtly in pain.

"I'm sorry mi amor" You spoke in between breathless sobs. Raging hormones and the nerves always took over you, bus his encouraging words always ground you.

"Mi niña, mírame." He hushed as your temple and cheeks were doused with his kisses and affection.

"I love you. You'll do great ok? I'm here." Clammy hands looked to embrace him, "I've got you, mi reina."

The lump in his throat turned bigger as the doctor approached, ready to get Rosie out. It was time to push. A flurry of things came to his mind, what if the baby was too big?, What if something happened to you last minute? What if-

No. None of that was happening. You were fine, and the pushing was going as great and painful as it should be.

"Just a few more pushes, Mrs. O'Hara. The head is nearly out"

"I so wanna punch you right now" He chuckled and held your hand tightly as you breathed and prepared to push again.

"Eres un cabrón..." (You fucker) you half sobbed half chuckled before pushing.

"Así me amas, chula." (You love me anyways)

The last word came out as a choked whimper as you held to him a bit too strong. Pregnant women's strength always amazed him.

"Una más, corazón, ya casi sale" (One more, sweetheart. She's almost out.)

You took a small break, panting and gasping for air. Sweat etched to your skin, like some strands of hair on your forehead.

The loud and healthy wail of your baby echoed through the room. Rosie had arrived.

Nurses quickly cleaned her and cut the umbilical cord, weighed her down and gave her to you.

"Look at her, Miguel" tears were unavoidably shed. Seeing your baby, your little Rosie finally in your arms, instantly snuggling in your chest, as if seeking refuge from the outside.

"Mama's here, mi amor." You cooed as you rocked her. Miguel's heart gave an enthusiastic shimmy upon seeing his daughter, one of the many pieces of him, latching on your breast.

Silky, soft and dark curls perched ontop of her tiny head. Her skin was a lighter shade of his, cheeks however made honor to her name. Flushed, rosy and oh so ready to be squished and kissed.

He kissed the top of her head and then yours. Whispering sweet swords of gratefulness and a lot of thank yous

His family was finally complete.

[shitsndgiggs]

A/N: This was so challenging to write since I had to try and incorporate all the different requests for this idea

UNEXPECTED NEWS - ARDA GÜLER

When Arda returns home from the Euros, his girlfriend surprises him with unexpected news

Arda Güler x pregnant! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of sheets as I shifted uncomfortably.

I had felt off for days, chalking it up to a bad case of nerves or maybe something I ate.

But as the days turned into weeks and the feeling persisted, I knew I had to confront the possibility I had been avoiding.

Arda had been away for the Euro 2024, and while I was incredibly proud of him, his absence only magnified my anxiety.

We had planned for me to join him, but just before his departure, I had been hit with waves of nausea and exhaustion that left me bedridden. Now, the possibility of why was staring me in the face.

I held the pregnancy test in my trembling hands, the bathroom light too bright for the early morning hour.

My heart raced as I watched the seconds tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. And then, there it was. A faint, but unmistakable, second line.

I sank to the floor, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. How would Arda react? We had talked about kids, but in a distant, "someday" kind of way.

This was now, unexpected and daunting. I needed him here, but I knew he had to focus on his game.

A few days later, I sat on the couch, scrolling through photos of Arda on the field, his concentration fierce and his determination clear. I was so proud of him, but the weight of my secret was heavy.

My phone buzzed with a video call from Arda, and I took a deep breath before answering, trying to compose myself.

"Hey, sevgilim," he said, his face lighting up the screen. "How are you feeling today?"

"Hi, Arda," I replied, forcing a smile. "I’m alright. Just taking it easy."

He frowned slightly. "You still don't look well. I wish I could be there with you."

I bit my lip, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. "I know, but you need to focus. I'll be fine."

We chatted for a while about his matches, his teammates, and the excitement of the tournament. He was doing so well, and I didn’t want to burden him with my news just yet.

When the tournament ended for Turkey and Arda returned home, I was a bundle of nerves. He had arranged for us to go on a small vacation, just the two of us, to relax and unwind.

But before we could leave, I knew I had to tell him.

He walked through the door, dropping his bags and rushing to me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. "I missed you so much," he whispered against my hair.

"I missed you too," I said, my voice trembling.

He pulled back, studying my face. "What's wrong? You look... worried."

I took his hands and led him to the couch, sitting down beside him. "Arda, there's something I need to tell you."

His expression grew serious, concern etching lines on his forehead. "What is it, sevgilim?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "The reason I've been feeling sick... I took a test. I'm pregnant."

The room seemed to freeze in that moment. Arda's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing as he processed the news. "Pregnant?" he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. "Yes. I know it's unexpected, and I was scared to tell you while you were away. But, Arda, I..."

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here now. We'll figure this out together."

We sat there for what felt like hours, holding each other, whispering reassurances. His hand rested on my stomach, and I could see the awe in his eyes as he imagined our future.

Over the next few weeks, Arda was incredibly supportive, attending every appointment and making sure I was comfortable and happy.

We were excited about our future, but there was a nagging worry at the back of my mind about how we would manage everything with his busy career.

One evening, as we sat on the balcony watching the sunset, I turned to Arda. "I've been thinking a lot about our future and how we'll manage everything with your career and our baby."

Arda looked at me thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about that too. I've spoken with my manager and the team. They are very supportive and understand the importance of family. I can arrange my schedule to be here for you and our baby as much as possible."

"But what about your career? I don't want you to give up on your dreams because of me," I said, feeling a wave of guilt.

Arda took my hands in his, his eyes sincere. "You and our baby are my dreams now. Of course, I want to continue playing, but I will find a balance. We will find a balance together."

His words melted my fears away, and I leaned into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "Thank you, Arda. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A few days later, we decided to share the news with our families. We planned a small dinner with both sets of parents, and I was a bundle of nerves.

As we sat around the table, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Arda stood up, holding my hand, and cleared his throat. "We have some news to share with you all. We're expecting a baby."

The room erupted in joy and congratulations, our families overjoyed by the news. My mother hugged me tightly,. "I'm so happy for you, sweetheart."

Later that night, as we lay in bed, Arda turned to me with a playful smile. "So, have you thought of any baby names yet?"

I laughed, feeling a lightness in my heart. "Not really. Have you?"

He grinned. "Well, I was thinking maybe something that represents both our cultures. What do you think of Demir for a boy or Zeynep for a girl?"

I smiled, loving the idea. "I think those are perfect."

As we drifted off to sleep, I felt a sense of contentment and excitement for the future.

We had a long journey ahead of us, but with Arda by my side, I knew we could face anything together.

[lyzsaphrodite]

☾ ⋆*･ﾟI Love You, I Promise :⋆*･ﾟ

Summer DaCosta x fem!reader

synopsis: After Bella die you and Summer break up because it was so hard on the both of you. But during your trip to Ghost Island where you have to share a bed and a failed game of charlie charlie brings feelings back to the light.

warnings: angst, one bed, and ghosts

a/n: hey guys I'm back and finally posting the Summer fic I've been writing since feburary. I had terrible writers block then forgot about it. This definitely isn't the best but I wanted to get it out to y'all because you guys have been waiting months.

wc: 1.7k

It's been a couple of months since you and Summer broke up. You guys broke up tight after Bella passed away. Bella was the one who got you two together in the first place. She knew you both had liked each other since the seventh grade, but were too scared to confess to each other and risk ruining your friendship. Eventually Bella convinced both of you to go to Winter Formal together sophomore year which led to more dates and finally you guys got together. Bella was one of your best friends, so when she died it was like a piece of you died. It was like that for everyone in the friend group. It was like with this piece missing, your heart didn't know how to act and neither did Summer’s. Which resulted in her snapping at you that then turned into a bad fight which resulted in a break up. _____________________________ Now you are on the boat to Ghost Island. Bella always wanted you all to go there together, with or without her. So that's what you were doing. Currently Summer and Leo are acting out the titanic, Ferris is hitting on Summer’s older cousin, and Kayla is sitting next to you. You finally reached the Island and arrived at the Veil Hotel. . Bella had always talked about visiting this eerie island with her friends, and despite her absence, you were determined to honor her memory by making this trip.

The evening was tinged with a sense of unease. The old hotel’s faded elegance seemed to echo with the ghosts of the past. As the night descended, you all made your way to the grand hotel suite you had reserved. The excitement of exploring the grand old building quickly turned into confusion as you entered the suite and realized something was off.

The suite was beautifully decorated, but there was a problem—there were not enough beds to accommodate everyone comfortably. The realization dawned on the group as you began unpacking.

“I thought we had more rooms,” Leo said, frowning as he surveyed the space.

“It must be a mistake,” Summer said, her voice tinged with frustration as she looked around. “There’s no way we can all fit.”

Ferris, ever the opportunist, quipped, “Looks like we’re going to have to get cozy.”

You and Summer exchanged glances. The arrangement meant that you two would have to share a bed—a prospect that felt like a cruel twist of fate given your unresolved issues.

“I can’t believe I have to share a bed with Summer,” you muttered, a mix of disbelief and frustration in your tone.

Kayla tried to diffuse the tension. “We can figure this out. It’s only for a few nights.”

The group made the best of the situation, setting up makeshift sleeping arrangements in the living area and trying to adapt to the unexpected scenario. You and Summer, though, were left with the task of facing the reality of sharing a bed.

As the night fell, you both tried to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped space. The bed felt smaller than it had before, the physical closeness a stark reminder of the emotional distance between you. Every rustle of the sheets and every shift in position felt amplified, and the silence between you was heavy with unspoken words.

Hours passed, and the emotional exhaustion from the day began to take its toll. The discomfort of the bed and the tension between you seemed to fade as sleep overtook you. In the quiet of the night, the proximity and shared warmth became a comfort rather than a burden.

You awoke the next morning to the surprising and intimate reality of being wrapped in Summer’s arms. Her body was pressed against yours, her breath warm on your neck. For a moment, you lay still, absorbing the closeness and the odd sense of peace it brought. The shared bed had, in the quiet hours of the night, become a cocoon where the walls between you felt softer.

Summer stirred beside you, her eyes blinking open. The realization of the situation seemed to hit her instantly. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Oh, um, good morning,” she stammered, her voice tinged with awkwardness. “Sorry about that.”

You turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a sigh. “Seriously, Summer? We’re sharing a bed. It happened while we were asleep. It’s fine.”

Summer looked at you with a mix of relief and lingering awkwardness. “I just... I didn’t want to overstep boundaries, you know? Things have been weird between us.”

You shook your head, your tone softening. “It’s okay. Just... let’s not make this more complicated than it is.”

Throughout the day, there was an unspoken tension between you and Summer that everyone in the group seemed to notice. Conversations felt stilted, and the usual camaraderie of the group was overshadowed by the weight of the unresolved issues between you two. You both tried to act normally, but the awkwardness was palpable, affecting the dynamics of the group.

After the ghostly encounters and attempts to connect with Bella, the group decided to try something different. They decided to play a game of Charlie Charlie, but with a twist—invoking Bella’s spirit. The mood was a mix of apprehension and hope as everyone gathered in the hotel’s grand living area, setting up the game in the center of the room.

The planchette was carefully placed on the notebook, the words “Yes” and “No” written out. You all took your places, hands trembling slightly as you prepared to ask questions.

“Bella, are you here with us?” Summer asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hope and anxiety.

The planchette moved slowly, settling on “Yes.” A collective breath was held as you all exchanged glances, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten in the face of this new attempt to connect with Bella.

“Bella, are you happy we’re here?” Kayla asked next. The planchette moved again to “Yes.”

The group continued asking questions, hoping to find some comfort or guidance. Then Summer, with a trembling voice, asked, “Bella, who am I in love with?”

The planchette moved, its path deliberate and unyielding. It stopped, pointing directly at Leo. The room fell into a heavy silence. Summer’s face fell, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of confusion and hurt. She stared at the board, unable to comprehend the message. “This isn’t Bella,” she said softly, her voice cracking with emotion.

Unable to bear the weight of the moment, Summer abruptly stood up and left the room in a hurry. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hall, leaving behind a tense silence.

You quickly followed after her, your heart pounding as you navigated the dimly lit corridors of the hotel. You found her in the hallway, leaning against the wall, her face buried in her hands. Her body shook with silent sobs.

“Why did you ask that question?” you demanded, your voice sharp with frustration. “If you didn’t want Leo to know, you shouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s the thing though!” Summer snapped back, her voice rising with a mix of desperation and anger. “I’m not in love with Leo. I’m in love with you. God, you’re so stupid, Y/N!”

Her outburst was a mix of frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotion in her declaration cutting through your already fragile heart. You turned away, unable to keep the tears at bay, and headed to Kayla’s room. The comfort of her presence was a small solace, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt.

When you entered Kayla’s room, she looked up with concern but didn’t press you for details. You lay on her bed, curling up in an attempt to find some semblance of peace. Kayla offered a reassuring hand on your shoulder before quietly leaving the room, giving you the space you needed.

Later, Summer knocked on Kayla’s door, her face a canvas of regret and weariness. Kayla gave you a sympathetic look before stepping out, leaving you alone with Summer.

"I need to talk to you," Summer said, her voice trembling with vulnerability. Her eyes were red from crying, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy she usually exuded.

You looked at her, your heart aching at the sight of her distress. "Okay," you replied quietly, trying to steady your emotions.

Summer took a deep breath, her hands wringing together nervously. "I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve been lost since everything happened. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I'm messed up."

You remained silent, listening intently as Summer struggled to find the right words.

"I love you," she finally said, her voice breaking. "I love you, and I’m so sorry. I should’ve never ended things like that. I was scared and angry and... I didn’t know how to handle it. But I love you, and I want to make things right."

The sincerity in her voice, the raw emotion in her eyes, cut through the confusion and hurt you had been feeling. Your own tears began to fall, mingling with the tears of regret and longing in Summer’s eyes.

"I miss you, too," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "It’s been so hard without you."

Summer’s eyes softened as she took a step closer, her hands reaching out to yours. "I know," she whispered. "I know I made mistakes, and I’m sorry. I want to fix things between us. I want to be with you."

In that moment, the pain and confusion seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile hope for reconciliation. You embraced each other, holding on tightly as if trying to anchor yourselves in the midst of the storm. The past was painful, but in each other’s arms, you found a glimmer of healing and a promise of rebuilding what had been lost.

def not my best work I swear my Clarisse fic will be better

taglist: @asvterias , @mira-belcul18 , @ang5289 , @symp4nat

[mins-fins]

heart attack

&&. there's something hilarious about the beautiful doctor there to help with your terrible habits.

pairing: qian kun x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of overworking, mentions of passing out & hospitalization

word count: 0.9k

notes: this….. THISSS💔💔💔 this drabble was very inspired by the thai movie heart attack (a movie that has no right being as cute as it is) kun fits the part so well because first.. doctor kun, and second.. kun is so amazing, i love kun, we all fucking love kun 😿 this is a early bday gift for user junjiie bc we all know he loves kun (happy early bday pookie ily) this is insanely self indulgent because i have slept less than three hours in these past five days and have been working myself to shit because.. med school!! yayyyyyyy!! im so excited!! (is not excited)

"so what's the matter with you?"

the usual roughness that would lace the voice of a medical professional is replaced by the softness you would feel of pillows, you glance up, meeting the eyes of the beautiful man before you. you stare, forgetting where you are for a moment, the exhaustion rendering you speechless.

but it's a whisper in your head that reminds you of where you are, and you flinch. "oh— i um.. there's these rashes appearing on my body".

"okay" he mutters, clicking his tongue and pen in unison. "and where exactly?"

"my arms, my neck.." he hums, pulling up your sleeve to check out what you told him. "also there are some on my fingers".

he bites into his inner cheek, much too close for the sake of your heart. he then glances up, examining your face through his glasses. "you haven't been getting any sleep" he snaps his fingers in your direction, letting go of you and turning back to his computer.

you respond with a dry chuckle, too tired to even try to add emotion. "and you know that how?"

"i can see it in your eyes, those dark circles aren't doing you justice" he sucks his teeth as he types out something. "what's your occupation?"

it isn't strange that he's curious, just answer the question.

you shake your head, mind all over the place. "i work in graphic design".

"ohhh" he doesn't exactly seem surprised. "freelance?"

you nod.

his eyebrows join together. "how does an editing job have you so tired?"

you let out a breath, too exhausted to allow a laugh. "it's a twenty four hour thing, if i'm awake at all times i function better".

"you're barely functioning now".

"well you're a doctor, you always tell people the obvious" you sigh, closing your eyes to try and recollect the many hours of sleep you lost. "i'm sure you aren't any better than me.."

"i'd be inclined to disagree".

you open one eye, staring at the pretty doctor who types away on his computer, catching you in his peripheral vision. (eyes you don't notice due to your lethargy making you less disposed to).

"when was the last time you slept?"

your throat goes dry, your senses reduced to the clear fatigue. you could simply lie, how would he even know? there's no way dr. qian is a psychic, that would be freaky, you're sure it would be nightmarish if that were the case.

there's an indecipherable glimmer in his eye, one that would scare you in regular circumstances where you were fully awake. it's as if he knows you're going to lie, your attempt at fib crawls down your throat before it can even escape your lips. "five days ago".

his reaction is serene, much too calm for your situation. "five days ago.. and how many hours did you sleep?"

your brain is foggy, you almost blurt the number 'six', but that's simply your default response when people ask. why would you ever lie to a doctor?..and the cute doctor especially?

you pause at the wave of your thoughts. what do you mean he's cute?

it's simply common sense, y/n. don't you like smart guys?

you would probably attribute it to your terrible sleep deprivation if it weren't true. you can't deny that the man before you is simply so attractive it should be illegal, he's absolutely gorgeous, how can a regular doctor be so beautiful? you might fall over, not from your lack of sleep, but from the eyes of the man who stares with such care.

"like.. three?"

your voice scratches as you recall the last time you 'slept', he hums, clicking his pen as he notes the information down. he turns in his rolling chair, scooting closer to you. "you mind if i see your hands?"

you can't even put up a fight, you're just about to give into your own exhaustion. you put your hands out for him, and dr. qian takes your hands in his own, examining the rashes which litter your fingers. he's close, so close, you can admire each of his facial features with amazing certainty. everything about him is beautiful, his cheeks, his eyes, the curves of his lips, it's all beautiful, it should be a crime for such a man to exist.

"that's an issue.. have you taken medication for sleep before?" you shake your head, and his fingers slip from yours.

"alright.. i'm going to put you on doxylamine" he mumbles, getting back to noting down your state. you begin scratching at the rashes on your fingers, and he snaps: "don't scratch it".

you move your hands apart rather quickly, his tone of voice intimidating you enough that you pause. he's much too convincing.

he points at you. "tonight, and this next month onward, you sleep before nine o'clock every single day".

you uncharacteristically snicker. "do you sleep before nine o'clock every single day?"

he raises an eyebrow, amused by the question. "i'm the doctor, i know best".

"of course".

"you'll end up dead if you keep going at this rate, take your medication, sleep before nine every day, then check back in with me next month".

"if i'm not available, can i reschedule?"

the question is simply meant to be comedic, you're just about to pass out, trying to sneak in a last minute joke before having to leave the office of the cute doctor. he leans his arm against the desk, smiling at you. "don't reschedule, i want to see you".

and you clearly weren't expecting those words, because your cheeks flare up.

see y/n? you do like smart guys.

[sunkiss3dlily]

to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) | joel miller x reader

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1298

Summary: Joel would die for you and Ellie; that much was evident, but you only come to realise your true feelings for the man when you realise just how much you need him to live for you both, too.

Note(s): ANGST central for my first ever Joel fic!! I'm so excited to share this, and I hope it is just as exciting to read as it was to write! Any feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚

His blood seeps into the creases of your palms as you desperately apply pressure to his stab wound, the coarse fabric of the cloth you found in your bag doing little to stem the flow. Joel writhes beneath you on the worn mattress, his pain evident in the way he clenches his teeth.

Tears blur your vision as you stumble through apologies, aware of Ellie's tearful gaze on your side profile. She hovers nearby, torn between worry and terror, fearing the loss of yet another person, especially someone as crucial as Joel.

Or, in Henry's words, the type of guy you'd follow anywhere.

His trembling hands find their place on your coat sleeve, tugging with only the desperation of a dying man as you will to keep your blood-soaked hands pressed over his injury.

"Leave...Leave..." His voice is hoarse and shaky, and that terrifies you. "Take my gun."

"Shut up, Joel," Ellie pleads weakly, standing helplessly behind you. "We aren't leaving you."

"Leave." Joel's voice is cold, angry, and scared. But underneath it all, the thing that scared you most was that there is a twinge in his tone that seems too relenting, too assured in letting the battle against him win, much like how Tess had appeared in the state house way back at the beginning of this fucked-up journey, and that was most certainly not him.

You were not losing him, not today.

You choke down the sob rising in your throat, feeling it pulsing in the column of your throat as you look up at Ellie and do your best to ignore the way her face falls at the sight of big tears sliding down your cheeks. "Go upstairs, Ellie. Look for a first-aid kit or something. Be quick."

She doesn't even hesitate, barely nodding before following your instructions, ignoring Joel as he protests weakly against your words on the mattress below.

You finally allow yourself to look down at Joel's face once Ellie is out of sight.

His eyes are wild with an unrecognised emotion; pain and exhaustion are also evident inside his brown irises. It's the first time you have found yourself properly gazing into his eyes, allowing you to see him for who he truly was for the first time—the self that he had resisted letting show for the entirety of the journey until this very moment.

The fearful man beneath.

"Joel..." You trail off, unsure what to say. Ellie is gone for the moment; should you say goodbye, just in case? Even the notion of doing so has hot tears dribbling down your cheeks, and you're shaking your head at yourself as you try to think of what to do, feeling completely and utterly hopeless.

You're the only capable adult left in this situation, and Ellie is looking to you for guidance on what to do. You couldn't imagine if she were left on her own in this situation. All you know is that if Joel dies and Ellie becomes your sole responsibility, the two of you will barely make it a day.

"Go...go North." He tries, his voice weak, and you ignore him, shaking your head.

Joel achieves a tight grip on you all of a sudden, breaking you from your internal breakdown as he uses seemingly his final bout of strength to tug you closer, startling you as your face looms over his, the closest you have ever been, as one of your hands flies to catch his wrists to stop him from loosening your pressure on his wound. He grits his teeth, speaking through his fear, his voice trembling. "I said, Fucking go! Take Ellie, and get back to Tommy. It's not far. He'll get you to the fireflies... Get you both there."

"Stop, stop.." You shake your head, your voice cracking, but he persists through your protests until you finally snap. "Just shut the fuck up, Joel! We aren't leaving! I...I can't. I can't do this on my own. I can't do... I can't do this without you."

His grip on you loosens, and for a moment, through your tears, you can see his pained and angry expression soften. It is momentary as his eyes flitter between both of yours as he takes in your words, but you feel your heart ache at the glimpse of the real man beneath his cold exterior.

Then, his hands, his bruised knuckles burning white on the fabric of your coat bunched in his grip, pull you closer, and for a moment, your breath hitches. And then he is shoving you away, shattering your delusion in a second.

"Fucking go." He grits out once more, watching as you fall to the floor, using your hands to catch yourself, and letting go of his wound.

You take a moment, out of pure shock, to watch as he cranes his head back to look at the ceiling, as if he can't bear to look at you.

As if he can't bear to see you leave.

"I'm not giving up on you, you asshole." You sniffle, pushing yourself up and glancing up towards the ceiling as you hear Ellie crashing about on the floor above, letting out angry yells to herself. "And neither is she. So don't you fucking give up on us, alright? We've come too far for you to fucking bail on us now."

He groans in pain as you place your hands back on top of the cloth over his wound, pressing down and feeling the warm liquid coat your already-soaked hands once more. You feel and hear him writhing discomfortably beneath you, drowning out your murmured apologies, until he suddenly begins to stop, his movements beginning to slow.

You can't bear to witness what is most likely the face of his dead corpse, and so you find yourself sobbing over your bloodied hands, your eyes squeezed closed as the metallic scent of his blood infiltrates your nostrils due to the close proximity.

"Please...please...you asshole. Please don't do this to me. Please." You cry softly, hearing the ceiling above you continue to squeak as Ellie's boots pound against the floorboards, still tirelessly searching, it seems, even as your own hope begins to dwindle. "I can't do this, Joel. I can't do this on my own. I can't keep her safe. She needs you. I need you. I fucking need you here. I need you to help me do this."

Your hysterical rambles trail off as Ellie's footsteps overhead speed up as they approach the basement door, and soon she is practically ripping the door of the hinges, her boots slamming against each wooden step as she announces, "Here, I found this."

She is on her knees beside you in less than a second, holding up a sewing needle and thread that you can barely find the strength to glance at. You notice she is out of breath and eyeing you with fear that she's too late.

"Ellie...I'm... I'm sorry, but—"

A weak cough interrupts you, and against your gut feeling, you turn your head to check on Joel immediately. His eyes are watery and half-lidded, but he is looking at you with such intensity that you can't bear to look away.

His hands, which had previously been clasped together over his stomach after pushing you away, twitch, a few of his fingers raising upwards, towards you. You reach out your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and you feel him squeeze weakly, his twitching thumb gliding slowly across the side of your hand, savouring the feeling of your soft skin as a small tear slips down his cheek.

You smile weakly at him, nodding with nothing but gratefulness. He was holding on, and whether he would make it to see the next sunrise with you both or not, he was fighting.

©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.

[unmaskingdisability]

So you want to die (but shouldn't do that)

A list of ways I force myself to keep going even when my entire body is on fire & my brain feels like it's going through a cheese grater

MAKE A PLAN WITH SOMEONE YOU ACTUALLY LIKE - Not a friend you have to gear yourself up to hang out with. A good friend, that will cost low spoons, and plan to do something you enjoy. Nothing extravagant that requires a lot of energy, and it doesn't even have to be in the imminent future. Make a dinner plan for next week and think about that lilac lemonade you've been wanting to make for them. Make a plan to hang out later this month and watch anime with your friend that's good at bullshitting and making you laugh. You won't want to do this when you can't imagine leaving your bed. Do it anyways.

DRAG YOUR EXHAUSTED ASS OUTSIDE - Dress in as many layers as you need or just wrapped in a blanket. Wear sunglasses and headphones if you need. Don't force yourself to do anything, except being outside for at least a few minutes. Sometimes it's cold and wet and all I can handle is walking out for a minute. Sometimes it's warmer and pleasant and now I'm exhausted slumped in the sun or under a pine tree instead of in a dark dirty (mine is anyways bc of the wanting to die and pain) room

VENT - Look I'm the master hypocrite. I run a disability group and I still haven't told pretty much anyone in my life I had to quit my job after my body broke down too far too fast. I advocate emotional vulnerability all day and will legitimately enact it constantly, about everything except how fucking miserable and hopeless and depressed and in pain and scared I am. You don't want to tell anyone because you're convinced they already hate you or are about to leave. I'm not gonna say you need to get over that tonight. But you gotta get it out of your head and your muscles and your body. You've gotta write or draw or splash paint (I will literally fingerpaint just colors sometimes) or hack up invasive plants or make poetry or cry to the person you do feel comfortable talking to. You've gotta get it out You've gotta get it out and also! If being honest about your life and difficulties does push people away fuck them!! Community is everything and that's something they never were, so it's space for something real

GO SOMEWHERE NEW AND BEAUTIFUL - This is one of the hardest things to do when depressed, but if helps so much when you can get yourself somewhere new & exciting and show your brain good things are still happening. For me, this looks like going to a new park, or science/art museum, or to see some pretty lights strung up for the holidays. Nowhere so crowded or busy it'll be too overwhelming, you just need to show your brain everything isn't awful static and get some dopamine pumping.

I'll keep adding to this because I'm full of too much spite and exhaustion and reluctant extreme caring so much to leave you all alone in this shithole

[latanyalove]

When He's Sick

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Sanji woke up with a pounding headache and blurry vision. He struggled to open his eyes, but he managed to sit up. Despite the discomfort, he knew that he had to make breakfast for his crewmates. Stumbling out of bed, Sanji made his way to the door, grasping for the handle.

Just as he was about to open it, he heard a startled yelp from the other side. Zaza jumped at the door the moment it opened.

"Oh Zaza love, what are you doing here?" Sanji said as happy as possible, even though he felt sick.

"I'm here to check on you! You didn't look too good when I saw you last night, so I wanted to make sure you were okay today," Zaza said, a hint of concern in her voice.

Startled, Sanji reflexively lied, saying, "Yeah, I'm okay. I have to go make breakfast-" However, Zaza was having none of it.

"No, Sanji. I already made breakfast."

Sanji's eyes widened in surprise.

Sanji felt a warmth spreading in his chest - a feeling of happiness, relief, and something he never felt for anyone else - love.

He had never felt such a strong emotion for Nami or Robin, two of his closest crewmates. Even though he was always protective of them, this feeling he felt for Zaza was different.

It was a feeling that he had never felt before.

"Now it's off to bed for you," Zaza said, pushing him inside the room and the door closed behind them.

Sanji was exhausted but he couldn't help but smile. He had never felt such a strong connection with anyone before.

As he sat on the edge of his bed, Zara was about to leave when Sanji grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer.

Sanji's heart raced as he felt Zaza's body collapse onto his lap. He felt a sudden thrill, along with the fear of what Zaza would think of this sudden gesture.

He felt a strange mix of emotions, but the one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to stay with her in that moment.

She gasped as she sat on his lap, her heart racing as she felt his strong arms naturally wrap around her. She had never felt this way before, and it both scared and excited her. She looked up at Sanji, her eyes wide with surprise and uncertainty.

She could feel her heart racing as she looked into his deep blue eyes, and for a moment she felt like she was lost in his gaze. She was about to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

She could feel her cheeks flush as she looked away, embarrassed and confused. "I'm sorry, I must have tripped," She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sanji didn't respond to her, but his eyes spoke volumes, filled with a desire that was unlike anything he had ever felt for anyone else. His gaze seemed to be asking her a question - a question that she couldn't answer, but one that she wanted to say yes to.

She felt drawn to him in a way she had never experienced before, and she felt herself leaning in closer to him.

Sanji then effortlessly slid his hands to cup her cheeks, gently caressing them as she looked up at him. His touch was gentle and warm, sending a thrill through her body.

She felt her body instinctively drawn to him, wanting to stay in his embrace forever. She savored the warmth of his embrace, feeling safe and secure in the moment.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt her body yearning to stay in his embrace. She felt like she was in a dream, and she never wanted it to end.

Sanji looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for an answer. He slowly brought his face closer to hers, and whispered, "Can I kiss you?"

Please say yes, he repeated in his head.

He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips against his, to experience the kind of passion and love that seemed to come so easily to other couples.

He wanted to know what it felt like to be truly in love.

Zaza felt her heart pounding in her chest as she looked into Sanji's eyes. She felt like she was in a trance, and his touch made her feel alive in ways she had never experienced before. She couldn't deny the feelings that were bubbling up inside her, and as she looked into his eyes, she knew that there was no other answer she could give except, "Yes."

As soon as that word left her lips, Sanji didn't hesitate any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, feeling a wave of emotions that he had never felt before. He could feel her warmth and softness, and the kiss felt as if it was going to last forever.

Zaza felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest as Sanji's lips met hers. She had never felt this kind of passion before, and it felt like nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Sanji felt his heart skip a beat from her touch. He responded by wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. She felt his warmth and strength envelop her, and as their lips moved in perfect harmony, she felt herself getting lost in the moment.

Sanji felt her body mold against his and he felt a wave of emotions pass through him. This was the kind of love he had been yearning for, and he never wanted it to end.

When they finally parted, they were both left breathless, their heartbeats pounding in their chests. They stared into each other's eyes, both of them filled with a sense of wonder and amazement. They had just experienced something that was truly beautiful and life-changing, and they both knew that this moment was something they would never forget.

Sanji muttered, pressing his forehead against hers. "You won't regret this, I promise."

"I don't think I could ever regret us being together." Zaza replied.

A dreamy smile spread across Sanji's face. "I'm so glad to hear that. You make my heart skip a beat."

Zaza said to him. "You make mine too, my love."

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