#and consistently arguing with them over everything

[bimbo-baggins17]

KINKTOBER REQUEST!

hear me out:

incest, boot worship, and rape (I forget the numbers oops) with Kurt Matheson.

the idea in my head was that you're his sister or daughter. because of his untreated issues and very sensitive mental state, you visit him often to check on him. you end up staying over one night, nd during that night, it became unsafe to go outside, so you're stuck with him until further notice.

he confides in you about how long it's been since he's had a woman around him, and you get weirded out and ask him to stop, which bums him out.

in the middle of the night, he comes onto you, babbling about how desperate he is and how pretty you are and how much he needs you. ofc, he's a vet and works out, so he's much stronger and can easily overpower you. you wake up out of your sleep screaming and crying, and he ends up raping you.

finally feeling some sort of control, he tells you to worship him - his body, his voice, his very being - and he starts with shoving you down onto your hands and knees, one booted foot heavy on your spine while you're forced to lick at his other boot, cleaning away the dirt and grime.

I KNOW I JUST WROTE THE WHOLE DAMN THING OUT, BUT IF ANYONE CAN WRITE THIS, IT'S YOU!

I’M POSTING THIS ONE EARLY BECAUSE I CANT KEEP IT TO MYSELF ANYMORE

I know I already told you in our messages how much I loved this but OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. YOUR BRAIN IS BEAUTIFUL BNUUY. Hands down my favorite request like EVER. I went with it being his daughter. Definitely more of a fic than a drabble. Oopsies.

TW: DDDNE!!! Rape and incest!!! Don’t like, don’t read.

One of the only times Kurt would make an exception to answering the door is when he knew you were expected. Every other week, like clockwork, you’d come with some groceries and necessities for your mentally unstable father.

“Hurry. Come in, come in.” His voice is gruff as he quickly ushers you in out of the storm before locking the door once you’re barely past the threshold.

You take a moment to look around his dimly lit space, discarded food cans litter the floor. You sigh as you set the bags of groceries down before stooping to try tidy clean some of it up. Kurt turns to come over to you, his eyes drifting to your ass as you do.

“You know, if you kept your space clean, it would probably help you a bit mentally.” You say with your back still to him. Honestly it probably wouldn’t do much to his fragile mental state but you still tried.

“You worry too much.” He says dismissively coming up beside you.

With a sigh, you straighten up and look at him, “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”

He huffs out a laugh, “You sound just like your mother. Trust me. I worry plenty.”

You shake your head but drop it instead, not wanting to argue. It was draining with him and you were always walking on egg shells. You opt for putting away the items you brought. “I’ll get these put away and then I’ll head out. I can’t stay long this time, sorry dad.”

He exhales and rubs a hand over his stubble. “Can’t give your old man a couple more minutes?”

“Sorry, not tonight. But I’ll be back next week with your med refills.”

He waves a hand at that, “Don’t. Theyre useless anyways.”

You stop and look up at him. “Are you implying you aren’t taking them anymore?”

Kurt looks away, shaking his head. “They don’t work anyways.”

“They can’t work if you don’t take them consistently. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah you really sound like your mother now.”

You give him a look, unamused by him. “I only say that because I care.”

The lights flicker and both of you look over to the window seeing the storm has gotten significantly worse in the short amount time you’ve been here.

Your dad looks back to you again, “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you out in the weather like this.”

And that’s how you get roped into staying the night at your dad’s. You knew he worried. God he worried about everything. What led to your parents’ divorce was that exact reason. His PTSD got worse and worse until he was unable to leave the house for fear of the end of the world.

Both of you sit on the floor with a lantern between the two of you, barely giving off enough light. The sound of the storm outside drowns out the scraping of utensils in the cans you were eating from.

“How’s school been? I feel so out of the loop anymore.” Kurt speaks up, trying to make conversation.

You shrug lazily, “Alright I guess. You’d be in the loop more if you had a cellphone like a normal person.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll ignore that comment,” He mumbles. His eyes move slowly over you again. He’d be lying if he didn’t think you were beautiful, the way your curves filled out more over time, the way your breasts seemed to nearly double in size over the last year. His chewing halts for a second as he feels a familiar twitch in his pants, one he hadn’t felt in so long. “You got a boyfriend?” He questions after a moment.

You stop and look up at him, shaking your head, “No.”

Slowly he nods his head. “You should. You’re beautiful.”

You shift a little where you sit, uncomfortable with the compliment. Sure it was normal for a dad to compliment his daughter but not your dad. “Um. Thanks.”

“I mean it. You’re looking more and more like your mom did in her prime.”

You look up at him again, “Uh..yeah I guess so.”

“Filling out like her too. Getting her curves.” He continues on. He probably should stop but it’s been so long and yeah it’s probably wrong but he’s so starved for pussy, he’ll take whatever he can. It’d be a waste of a perfect opportunity if he didn’t try.

“Dad?” You question with your eyebrows furrow together tightly.

He sighs and hangs his head. “Sorry. It’s just,” Kurt sighs once more and shifts a little closer to you placing a calloused hand on your leg. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman and I-“

“Oh my god, dad. Gross! Stop it!” You shove his hand off of you and quickly put some distance back between you too.

Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist as he brings it back to his lap. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He tries to suppress the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m going to bed, I just..ugh.” You were unnerved to say the least. You get up off the floor, leaving the half eaten can of food on the ground.

“You-uh..you can take my cot.” He calls after you before he’s mentally beating himself up again. This was going to be a long night.

Kurt tosses and turns for what feels like hours on the floor, his cock so painfully hard. He sits up a little to look at you on his cot. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath. It was pure torture to have a woman so close but not being able to do anything about it. Any rational part of his brain was gone years ago so his conscience wasn’t telling him to stop as he got up off the floor, slowly making his way over to your sleeping form.

He reaches down and brushes some hair off your face, “So beautiful,” He murmurs, letting his hand move off your face, slowly tracing down your neck over the pulse point, then your collarbone before he’s allowing himself to squeeze your supple breast. He bites down on his lip to keep from making any noise noticing you weren’t wearing a bra to sleep. His cock throbs.

Kurt palms himself to try and cause any kind of relief this way as he continues to knead your breast, feeling the pebbled nipple poking his palm. He lets out a shuddered exhale. His eyes trail down further seeing the hem of your shirt bunched up a little. A peek wouldn’t hurt right? Not like you’d know. Slowly he inches the shirt up until he’s able to see at least one of your breasts. Leaning down slowly, he presses an open mouthed kiss to it.

You stir a little in your sleep but don’t wake up. He freezes for a second to make sure you stay asleep before he envelopes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, releasing it. Making a bolder choice, he lets his hand continue its decent to the waistband of your pants before he’s slipping it in, finding your cunt with his fingers. He draws in a shaky breath feeling how you were wet. “What’re you dreaming about babygirl?” He whispers into the dark.

Against anyone else’s better judgment, he eases your pants and panties down, revealing your core to him. He hesitates for a second looking at it, imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his shaft.

“I’m so sorry baby. Just been so long..and..and it hurts. You know I love you. You’re my beautiful little girl. I know you’d forgive your dear old dad for this.” He rambles quietly before he’s easing onto the bed between your legs as he bends them. Quickly he fishes his leaking cock out, running it through your folds.

Time isn’t a luxury he has right now. As much as he’d love to savor this, he can’t so he pushes into you, keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you aren’t waking up. Slowly he starts to rock into you, biting back moans that threaten to spill out.

“Oh sweet girl..so good to me.” He pants out, rocking his hips into you faster as he chases his much needed release. The caution he had at first is quickly abandoned as his thrusts grow harsher.

You’re stirred from your slumber feeling something that you most definitely shouldn’t be. Hazily you try to make sense of what’s going on as you come to your senses. Quickly you put together that your father is on top of you fucking into you. “Wha-? S-stop! Stop!”

Kurt’s eyes fly open and land on your face seeing you’re now awake. “Shh..it’s okay baby. I know. I know. Just couldn’t help myself-“

You claw at him to try and get him off, shoving at him but he doesn’t budge. “Dad! Please stop!!” You cry.

“No. No. Just-..nghh..be good for your dad.” He grits out.

You continue to squirm and try to fight which only serves to irritate him. He can’t have that. The years of working out and military training served well and he’s able to easily over power you, pinning you down tightly against the cot. “I said, be good.” He continue to pound into your poor pussy, taking what he wants and not caring about your protests.

“Stop! Please!” You keep repeating the words through far tears that roll down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby. You’re helping out your dad.” It’s his attempt to console you. As if reminding you it was your father who was fucking you would somehow make it better.

Your protests soon die off, continuing to cry and sniffle under him.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He coos before he’s cumming into you. He leans down to press a wet kiss to your chest. “Now tell daddy thank you.”

Quickly you shake your head. The worst was over, so you assumed. You’d leave after he got off of you. “What? No. You’re sick. Sicker than I thought.” You sniffle.

Kurt leans back, a scowl on his face. “Ungrateful brat.” He spits the words out.

Your eyes widen. You’d upset him, that much was clear. You shake your head again, taking back what you said for the sake of not having him rape you again. “No. No wait. I’m sorry..I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh yeah? You’re sorry, hm?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. Yes, yes I’m sorry dad.” It made you sick to call him that now.

“Show me then. Worship me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”

“I said, worship me. Make your dad happy.”

You don’t even know where to begin, how to lie that well. Kurt is unhappy with how long you take. Slipping out of you, he quickly yanks you up and shoves you onto your stomach on the floor before you can process what’s happening, his one booted foot shoved directly into the center of your back while the other one rested by your head on the floor.

“Lick it.” He instructs.

“What? Lick what?”

He huffs in frustration, “My boot. Lick it. Show your dad how much you love him.”

You start to protest despite your compromised position, but Kurt presses his boot more firmly into your back. “Lick. It.”

You shakily raise your head and stick your tongue out, giving a little kitten lick to the toe of it.

“More.” He encourages, adding more pressure. “Clean it with your damn tongue.”

You sniffle but oblige him, knowing you weren’t getting out of this without doing so. You run your tongue along the toe of his boot, moving to the front of it, dipping down to the sole of it.

“There we go. Much better.” He praises, “Now tell me you love me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, “I-love you dad.”

He hums happily, “Good. Now my voice.”

“I..love your voice.” You sniffle.

He releases a little of the pressure on your back, “My body.”

You fight the urge to recoil at the words he wants you to speak, “I-…I love your body.” You want to puke.

“Mm. There we go. You made your dad so happy, little girl.” He praises softly, “That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”

You shake your head for the sake of appeasing him, “N-no..it wasn’t.”

“Good,” He takes his boot off of your back but then places it down infront of your face. “Now lick this one.”

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Relistening to Checking Out, and I’ve always liked this scene in particular, as it is one that’s very open to interpretation.

I believe, from what I’ve seen personally at least, one or the most common interpretations is that Helen’s observation is either incorrect, or intentionally misleading, and that Jon’s response actually stems from touch aversion, or a degree of it, attributed to his trauma, particularly moments where he’s been left helpless and at the whims of others. E.g. Kidnapped by the Circus, almost killed by Daisy etc. And while I think this interpretation is both interesting and plausible, I don’t think I’ve seen much for the opposite interpretation, which is that Helen’s observation is correct.

It can be difficult to talk about Jon’s humanity sometimes, as there’s a lot of nuance and layers to cover. The fact is, Jon, especially in season five, does not completely think like a human. He is simultaneously a painfully human character such with deep compassion and guilt and self-loathing, while also being a being of immense knowledge who sees and understands the world in a different light, and in a way no one else can possibly comprehend, which has to be very isolating all things considered.

As with everything in TMA, Jon makes a choice, and his choice is to end the apocalypse, to stay with Martin, and to stay as human as he possibly can. We know from Annabelle that had she have taken Martin, who is presumably acting as one of his main anchors to humanity, Jon potentially would have snapped completely, the final push over the edge as she puts it. It has to be a difficult thing for him, to try and balance his existence when he is so fundamentally changed, and when this world naturally feels right to him, and you could argue that him snapping at the mother here is simply his instinct, being what he is.

He is The Archivist, the meant-to-be Pupil of the Eye, one of the most important beings present, and so it makes sense there’s almost an instinctive detachment from the victims. He is meant to Watch them, and Watching means no physical interaction. By touching him, the mother has broken this barrier, and so, instinctually, he reacts — with anger, notably.

I’d say it’s meant to contrast how we see him acting prior to the touch, where he seems genuinely sympathetic with the mother, and he is trying to help in what little way he can. Because before she touches him, that gap between Watched and Watcher is still firm in place, and so he can handle that.

Bearing in mind, I haven’t re-listened to the rest of season five with this, so I may have missed something.

I also think both interpretations can co-exist too, and that could be just as interesting to explore. Either way, I find that, with Jon, it’s important to consider his status in the Eyepocalypse and his nature vs his choices, although, his nature vs his choices goes for the whole series I think, as choice is such a consistent theme in TMA and in the Avatars.

[amuseoffyre]

I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Darkest Desire

Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…

Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…

Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+

-

divider by @reveriesources

Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.

Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.

Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.

You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.

Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.

Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.

Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.

And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.

It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.

“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.

“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.

And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.

-

The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.

“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.

You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”

An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.

The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.

“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.

The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.

That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.

As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.

His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.

He doesn’t speak a single word.

He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.

And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.

His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.

You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.

“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.

“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.

“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?

“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.

“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.

“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.

“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.

“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.

Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.

But they don’t.

You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.

Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.

That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.

“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.

Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.

You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…

Now you feel afraid.

“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.

“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.

“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.

“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.

This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.

“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?

“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.

You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.

“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.

“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.

“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”

“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me—“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.

“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.

“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.

He too, had taken off.

And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.

-

It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.

Had they actually ditched you and went home?

Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.

To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.

A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.

“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.

That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.

Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.

Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.

“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.

“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.

But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.

You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.

You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.

Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.

“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”

Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.

“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”

“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.

Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.

“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”

You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.

“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.

“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.

The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.

But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.

“You must think I’m a total freak.”

“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.

“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”

Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.

“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.

“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.

“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

“I will.” He promises.

“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.

“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @manitskatrina @georgeweasleyslostearhq

[pathologicalreid]

hello my new favorite tumblr writer 😇 i will b honest i have never requested anything before so!! bear with me. however the spencer reid brainrot is all too real SO would you be open to doing anything with a hotchner!fem!reader? bau or not for the reader! something something hotch is very hesitant about their relationship but maybe reader gets caught in the crossfire of something and hotch and prentiss see them together afterward and prentiss is like “that looks pretty real to me.” DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW THANK YOUUUU 🫡

a father's daughter | S.R.

in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

who? spencer reid x hotchner!fem!bau!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, blood, stitches, hospitals, medical inaccuracy word count: 2.03k a/n: anon you are legendary. this is an incredible request and i am so honored to be your new favorite tumblr writer! i am an absolute sucker for anything hotchner!reader (or rossi!reader) so i absolutely ate this request up! (also if anyone wanted to drop a request in my inbox... it would be welcome)

Aaron Hotchner was the most professional person in the BAU, except when it came to you. You, like him, had gone to law school. You were a public defender for just a short time before being put into WITSEC, and when your mother died, you applied to the FBI Academy.

Plain and short, it was nepotism, but no one was going to argue with the man whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. Your dad wanted you in the BAU so he could keep an eye on you, and there was nothing Erin Strauss could do about it. What your father couldn’t control, was your relationship with Reid.

He could tell you that he didn’t approve, but so long as David Rossi, king of inter-bureau mingling, was around, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop you. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen Reid be consistent with a relationship,” your dad said, having pulled you away from the team to, once again, try to warn you off of your relationship.

“He’s been pretty consistent for the last seven months,” you responded, rifling through the victims' files that were in your arms.

You started to make your way out of the empty office when your father spoke again, “And he’s too old for you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pivoted and faced your father, “He’s three years older than I am, I’m twenty-six. That’s hardly an age gap to bat an eye at.” The two of you had always had a rocky relationship, he missed a large portion of your childhood due to this job and you always tried to not resent him for it.

Your parents’ marriage fell apart, neither of them handled it well, and you weren’t all that surprised. They had gotten married when your mom got pregnant with you because they thought that was what they were supposed to do, and when Jack couldn’t keep them together, everything fell apart.

“You have no right to lecture me on relationships, Agent Hotchner,” you snapped, staring him down. Daring him to challenge you.

He sighed, obviously trying not to lose his patience with you. “I’d just hate for you to find out you wasted your time on something that wasn’t real.”

The door behind you swung open, you spun on your heels to face Emily. “Sorry, uh, we have a location, Morgan’s coordinating with SWAT,” she said, looking between you and your father.

“Great, let’s go,” your father said, his parental demeanor falling away as his Unit Chief mask took its place.

You walked out the door to see the rest of the team, Rossi tossed you a Kevlar vest as you walked over to where Spencer was standing with the police chief, “Where are we headed?” You asked, undoing the Velcro on the vest and pulling it over your torso. The beige precinct was buzzing as agents and officers prepared to break into the UnSub’s home base. Hopefully to find his most recent victim still alive.

Reid reached over and adjusted the strap of your vest, making sure it was evenly tightened over your shoulders. “Garcia found a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s being rented out under an anagram of the first victim’s name,” he said, gently squeezing your arm before dropping his hands back to his side.

Nodding, you followed the rest of the team out the metal doors of the precinct and into the black SUVs. “Your UnSub’s name is Jonas Watts, he used a different name to rent the space but the account he uses to pay for it is under his name,” Garcia’s voice rang through the speaker as she told you about the perpetrator. “He checks every UnSub box we have, raised by a single father after his mother left, and… oh, multiple arrests for assault.”

You looked up to the driver’s seat, your dad was white-knuckling the steering wheel, entirely focused on driving as you listened to Garcia reciting the UnSub’s rap sheet.

When you arrived at the warehouse SWAT was already there and Morgan started organizing the tactical assault. Drawing your weapon, you nodded at your teammate when he instructed you to go around the back with himself and your father. Allowing Morgan to kick the door down, the three of you held your firearms up and began clearing the warehouse.

Further away, you heard Emily and Spencer clearing the front. “Clear, moving up,” you called into your radio as you approached the stairs, stepping on them carefully so they didn’t creak. On the landing, you looked at a trail of blood on the ground. “There’s a blood trail in the upper west wing,” you whispered.

“Move up, little Hotch, I’m right behind you,” Morgan responded.

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, one that you had begged him to stop using, you moved forward, keeping your firearm aimed right in front of you. Turning into the room that the blood trail led to, you immediately ducked when you saw a knife coming for you. Keeping your gun aimed, you faced down the UnSub, “Jonas Watts, FBI!” You announced yourself, scanning the room for the girl he took last night.

Watts shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be here! You can’t be here!” He shouted in distress.

“Where’s the girl, Jonas? Where did you take Isobel?” You asked him, not seeing her in the room the two of you were in. There was another entrance on the left of him.

He stepped toward you, and you cocked your gun, “I don’t have her now. I lost her, she’s lost,” he said, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Unnerved, you decided to take a leap of faith, “Jonas, where’s your partner?” A partner hadn’t been part of the profile, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The crimes were too complex, it didn’t match up with something as simple as using an anagram of a victim’s name for the warehouse rental.

Morgan filed in behind you, aiming his gun at Jonas, same as you. “Time’s running out, Jonas. If you tell us about your partner we can help you,” he said, slowly inching toward Watts.

“It’s too late,” Jonas wailed.

Someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward before you were pulled to your feet. One arm was locked around your torso, and another was holding a knife to your throat. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll cut her fucking throat!” The unnamed man said from behind you, he was almost impossibly tall, easily overpowering you.

You didn’t dare move, not with that knife to your throat, one false move and you’d bleed out. Morgan shouted for him to let you go, but he just pressed the knife tighter to your neck, splitting the skin.

Shutting your eyes, you tried not to cry, fearing the damage it would do to your throat.

Your captor held you tightly to him, using your body to block Morgan from shooting. Something warm trickled down your collarbone, and you weren’t sure if it was blood or tears.

For a moment, you thought you could swing your foot back into his knee, but the fear of having your carotid cut outweighed your bravery.

Ever since you were a kid, you thought death would be quiet. Something you slipped into like sleep, but your death was loud, and it left your ears ringing.

The afterlife was the weirdest place you’ve ever been, someone was calling your name, and you heard your rights being read. Although, why you would need your Miranda Rights in the afterlife you had no idea.

“Angel, please open your eyes,” someone said.

Confused, you opened your eyes and saw familiar eyes staring down at you. Golden and bleary. Spencer, Spencer was here. You tried to sit up, but he held you down, keeping a hand on your throat.

Morgan was shouting for medical, saying there was an agent down. You turned your head to see the still unidentified UnSub on the ground, shot through the temple. Using his free hand to turn your chin, “Don’t look,” Spencer whispered. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, angel.”

If you weren’t still coming down from an adrenaline high, you might’ve smiled at the irony of the nickname. Being called ‘angel’ after having your neck cut felt like tempting fate.

Where was your dad? Of everyone here, you expected him to be here, barking orders at people.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your dad appeared, nearly hauling an EMT behind him, “Help her,” he said.

Yeah, that absolutely tracked.

The EMT’s packed your wound and assured everyone that your carotid had not been slit, against your protests, the ambulance brought you to the hospital for stitches. Emily had run to the hotel to get your go bag, allowing you to change out of your bloodied clothes.

Thankfully, the doctors said you didn’t need to stay overnight, meaning you and the team got to go home. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked while you were waiting to board the jet.

You hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes, and leaning against a car, “Tired, but I’m alright.” Tired might have been underselling it, you felt like all of the energy had been physically drained from your body. “You worry too much,” you whispered, closing your eyes for just a moment. Your throat was a little raspy, but it should go back to normal after a couple of days.

“Your throat was cut about four hours ago, some might say I’m not worrying enough,” he responded, reaching down, and picking up your bag, carrying it over to the jet once they got the okay to board. On the jet, he gestured to the seat, “Lay down, get some rest.”

You furrowed your brows, “Isn’t it kind of frowned upon to take up a whole seat?” You asked, of course, sometimes it happened, but you didn’t want to take up too much space.

Spencer cocked his head at you, “I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on it, love.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the seat, laying down and closing your eyes, falling asleep before you even left the tarmac.

Being the Unit Chief had its perks, surely, but the piles of paperwork sometimes felt never-ending. Aaron took a deep breath before he closed the file, Rossi sat across from him, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Prentiss whispered, taking the seat next to him and setting her glass of water down on the small table. “Do you see that?” She said, gesturing with her head toward where you were lying down, asleep.

Right next to you was Reid, who usually had his nose buried in a book at this point in a flight, but he was wide awake, and all of his focus seemed to be on you. Begrudgingly, Hotch watched as Spencer reached over and tucked a blanket around you as if he was afraid you’d freeze on the temperature-controlled jet. “What about it?” Hotch asked, reaching over for the next file.

His eyes flicked up again, Spencer was sitting on the floor of the jet. Everyone had elected to leave the couch seats for the two of you, but the one across the aisle from you was empty. Like Reid didn’t even want you to be any more than one foot away from him.

Leaning back in the chair, Emily shook her head, “That’s what we in the business call hypervigilance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just spared another glance over at the two of you. “’We in the business’?” He inquired, humoring Prentiss.

“I’m just saying… the hovering? The blanket? I don’t know about you, but that looks pretty real to me,” she said, leaning back in the leather seat.

Silently, he glared, it would seem his hopes of getting the team to stop eavesdropping on familial conversations were quashed.

“Just let the kids be, Aaron,” Rossi said, grinning into his glass.

He cleared his throat and flipped open the new file before he acquiesced, “Fine, for now.”

please reblog, like, and/or comment if you enjoyed 🩵

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor. 

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !! 

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you. 

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.” 

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest. 

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries. 

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?” 

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.” 

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn. 

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!” 

“Perfect time to learn then.” 

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-” 

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.” 

“are they consistent?” 

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch. 

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.” 

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair. 

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.” 

~ 

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right. 

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle. 

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast. 

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!” 

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.” 

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly. 

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?” 

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.” 

“oh my god!” 

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right? 

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago. 

You scream, a searing pain felt down below. 

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-” 

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief. 

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.” 

~

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock. 

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter. 

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”  

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.” 

~ 

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult. 

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

[ariesangelxo]

mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.

[year2000electronics]

Bill & Ford & A Book, Oh My!

DISCLAIMER: The Book of Bill has Bill Cipher serving as an unreliable narrator. If we go out trying to say something is "definitively a truth" or "definitively a lie", we're going to keep arguing about it until the heat death of the universe. This is just my own personal interpretation of the source material. If you don't agree, that's fine! Also TBOB spoilers abound.

So it's no secret that interest in the dynamic Bill & Ford have (enemies, platonic, romantic, formerly romantic, whichever way) has really skyrocketed since TBOB's release. Of course, there are the 'easy' culprits to point towards, with Mabel referring to Bill as 'being like a needy ex', and the whole O'Sadley's fiasco (Him literally crying over losing Ford and going "one Sixer, please"? Messy. Messy behavior. Still, I think it goes so much deeper than that.

Bill, being the unpredictable chaos entity that he is, also serves as the main antagonist for a show about family and having close bonds with each other. We don't really need to look into his inner psyche that much, because that's just not what he needed to be doing at that point in the cartoon. He's meant to be a way to divide the Pines, really. And a silly little guy. A silly little obstacle. So, naturally, when it came to Bill's arguably "closest" relationship to someone in the show (Ford), it was very easy to interpret it as Ford being tricked by a completely apathetic Bill, who was just using him as a rung on the ladder. And I do want to stress that Ford and Bill's physical actions remain fairly consistent throughout interpretations, and focusing on the fact that Bill badly hurt Ford is important, so if that's how you still see it, then fine by me! No harm no foul!

But I think the relationship, their story, their tragedy just becomes so much more interesting with the lens The Book of Bill has presented. We’re finally able to see Bill’s perspective as a “protagonist” of sorts in a medium where he’s not just something to defeat- and that’s something we’ve never gotten before, so it’s shedding light on an area we didn’t know about for sure! Again, Bill is lying to the character of "the reader", so we can't trust it as a completely unbiased source. But we can speculate on where the "truth" is between these lies.

First of all, Bill's backstory was that he destroyed his home dimension- we knew that already. But now, with the extra content we have about it, we see something interesting- that Bill's backstory mirrors Ford's to an uncanny degree.

Both of them champion their intelligence, although they highlight how it set them apart from others, as well as highlighting their own 'rare mutation/birth defect'.

Again, with this self-isolation already spurred on from their "weirdness", but also as a little aside, I would also like to highlight that Bill being 'ready to be one', looking up at the stars, striving to 'reach' them, is a shared motif he has with Ford, who is also associated with space, the stars, and reaching them.

Bill's 'trying-really-quick-to-convince-Ford' fantasy sequence even has him in a field of stars as a sort of "ultimate wish fulfilment". Remember, this is Bill showing Ford something he thinks would win Ford over, at least a little.

(And I'll take a quick time out for this train of thought to point out- hey! Bill admits he sought out most of his other victims, but Ford summoned him, and it took him by surprise! That adds a fun little layer of complexity to everything, don't you think? Another little layer of humanity for this whole mess- Bill didn't expertly seek out the 'perfect victim' or anything, it was just... luck. Some twist of fate.)

Anyways.

Obviously, the intro page to the 'Sixer' section has a ton of red flags galore (I mean, poor guy's literally depicted as a hapless puppet. C'mon, Bill. Not to mention the "OH BOY HE'S ALREADY SO ISOLATED, IT'S PERFECT" thing.). This guy is kind of a terrible companion no matter how you slice it. He's terrible to everyone close to him, because he's a deeply traumatized character who refuses to heal. BUT, the wording here is kinda deliciously intriguing to me. All of humanity is Bill's puppets, his future victims, but to me, it's clear that he holds a fondness for Ford. From "This is what a partner looks like", to "Me and Sixer could be the perfect team", to "He had what I always wanted- fingers" (drawn to his strangeness, maybe?), "He was destined for so much more", "I looked at his futures and giggled", and most stand-out to me, "Society calls these people freaks, I call them Henchmaniacs!"

Going back to the pre-Book of Bill era I was talking about, Bill's offers for Ford to join him were always in a sort of murky territory for interpretation. The first offer could definitely be read as mocking, with the line "WITH THAT SIX-FINGERED HAND, YOU'D FIT RIGHT IN WITH MY FREAKS!" in particular making it seem like Bill was only saying that to rub Ford's strangeness in his face, and the second offer to join Bill being under a new circumstance- that now Bill is desperate and believes Ford is the only one who can help him. But the Book of Bill mentions the idea of Ford becoming a Henchmaniac more than once, and also has Bill upset at losing Ford and claiming "he'll be back", as well as Bill seeming to use "freak" more like a badge of honour, and having previously complimented Ford's six fingers (In the Sixer intro page, he highlights Ford's fingers as a quality he likes, and in the pages about bodies, he states that "humans should have more fingers". To me, that first offer reads more now like Bill being genuine about finding Ford a place among his misfits. ...Although, the moment Ford says no, he does zap him into a statue. So. Y'know. He's still got issues.

(Yeah, again, red flag city. "Just hazing"? Bill, none of what you were doing over there was okay! You might have suppressed everything traumatic that happened to you, but that doesn't mean you can go around traumatizing everyone! Good lord.)

Bill has already been imply to like other characters because they remind him of himself. Pointing towards a connection with a character Bill DOESN'T have a weird undefinable ex-partner thing with... Mabel! Alex has says in multiple official media and interviews that Bill sees a lot of himself in Mabel, and essentially, that he thought Mabeland was the perfect prison because if HE liked all that awesome, uncontrolled chaos over any family or friends, why wouldn't SHE? And we see that again in TBOB. So basically, what I'm saying is that we have two characters to back up the fact that Bill seems gravitated towards humans or other living beings that he views as being 'like him'- beings he can relate to! So, y'know, what does that say about Bill and Ford?

There's also Bill's plans for the reader and "Weirdmageddon 2.0", where he portrays the reader as getting to, like, perch on his arm like a little bird and get their own little crown? And specifically calls out Ford for not going through with things?? Okay, Bill??

AND Ford not only being the only human mentioned on the list of people he "definitely doesn't miss so stop asking", but also having his own category? Alright, man.

Of course, another point to the 'Hey, maybe Bill can actually feel emotions towards humans besides complete and total apathy' club is this page here, which has ALSO been hotly debated! Certainly, we know he's telling the truth about his home dimension being destroyed, and we know that he's lying about the 'monster', but some interpret this scene as Bill not being remorseful at all and playing his reaction up to earn Ford's sympathy. And me, personally, I dunno if I agree. I feel like the specific inclusion of Bill "looking distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him" (Mirroring the fact that he keeps blacking out when thinking about all his large-scale massacres) and him "laughing joylessly", I think this sequence is meant to tell us that Bill actually is being vulnerable with Ford here, it's just hidden under layers and layers of deceit, whether towards himself or Ford or both.

And finally for my Book of Bill collection stuff, there's the stuff that could be read as more romantic in nature. In the 'love' section, Bill claims he doesn't love anyone, but, like-

Come on. You can disagree with me that it's Ford, but he does have exes. And he's clearly not over them. Shrimpy little liar. And then there's the fact that a lot of his hokey 'advice' is stuff he ends up directly doing to Ford.

These rats.

The Love Cage.

The Book of Bill really outlined all that in bold, but in my opinion, it was never an entirely new revelation! Bill seems to hold a preference for Ford over other humans in the show. He shows up in Ford's dreams just to say hi, tease him, and gloat (Mabelcorn) unlike the other two dream appearances he's made (Dreamscaperers, Sock Opera) which were exclusively for business purposes. Unlike every other character that gets exclusively one nickname for their zodiac sign, Ford gets multiple (Fordsy, IQ, Sixer, smart guy, brainiac, the list goes on). Bill asks Ford to join him TWICE, whereas anyone else who tries gets their face rearranged, put in a cage and made to dance, frozen in stone, etc etc. And finally, I think, the most emblematic of Bill's weird, specific relationship with Ford, is that whereas everybody else gets turned into stone, Ford got turned into gold.

Which kinda sums up their whole thing up pretty well? Bill gave him special treatment by turning him into a golden statue (similar to yellow ha ha), always holding him close, but, like... Dude. You still kidnapped a man and turned him into a statue and then threatened to kill his niece and nephew. I don't think it will change his opinion on you if he's the Most Pampered Hostage, Actually. I just don't think that we need to explore the relationships between characters as simply "Well, this character hurt the other one, so we shouldn't really think about why or what they feel personally, because what they did was bad, so there".

Bill & Ford interest me because they're a tragedy in motion. We can see that Bill and Ford mirror each other in a multitude of ways, and we can see that they both do have positive feelings towards each other at the time they meet, and we see that Bill very desperately wants Ford to be just like him in the unhealthy ways; the ways that make Bill destroy entire universes and compartmentalize it all, because maybe then, he can finally have the companionship he so deeply aches for. Bill and Ford both had tough, lonely upbringings, but Ford moved on from that "I don't need you" mentality. That's what saved him. Bill didn't, and that's what got him where he was in the end. I feel like that's just so much more interesting than Bill just being a flat entity that makes abuse Happen to Ford, just as another Event in his life. I mean, isn't it just SO much more interesting that Ford humanizes Bill, in a way? That Ford makes him- in Bill's own words- "sentimental"? That a chaotic dream demon has regrets and loves and favourites and connections? It's the same thing with Fiddleford & Ford, although, obviously, to a MUCH lesser extent than Bill & Ford. But you get what I mean, right? You know that Fiddleford and Ford are going to undo each other in the end, and the path to that downfall is... it's telling a story! I like the story of it all! I think that's what I've been invested in and intrigued by all these years- the story, the tragedy of Bill and Ford. No matter what form it takes.

(Plus, as tumblr user fordtato pointed out in their own essay (not tagging because this post is messy enough as is oh god), hey, Ford now has two incredibly queer-coded narratives, with one of them being about how he recovered and was able to heal from an abusive relationship. And, well, I think that's just neat.)

Anyways, that's the end of the post. Thanks for reading this long!

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING HOSHI INCLUDES…. — sfw

• if he ever suspects you or figures out that you’re the mafia whenever y’all play, he would NEVER expose you. he would in fact protect you WITH HIS LIFE. this says a lot about how much he loves you because hoshi would never back down during mafia ever. (poor mingyu :/ he really was innocent all this time.)

• you would probably be the only person capable of successfully dragging him out of the dance studio.

• he would let you squish his cheeks whenever you want (especially when you’re having a bad day.)

• as surprising as it sounds, when y’all are alone, he’s the calm bf and you’re the hyper gf.

• he will NEVER dull your sparkle no matter how bad of a day he’s having.

• when he loves, he loves with EVERYTHING in him.

• dates with him would never be boring. he mainly plans the adventurous ones, choosing to do something like a water park or hiking instead. (he would definitely give you a piggy back ride if you get tired.)

• if he makes a promise with you, he would rather walk through hell barefoot than break it no matter the circumstance. he’s such a dependable lover and always comes through.

• he turns into the softest person whenever you’re having a bad day. he would start talking in a low voice, give you space if needed, but also make sure you’re never suffering alone. your struggles are his and he always lets you know that.

• he’s fine with driving you around everywhere, but be prepared cause he is a super speeder for sure (i know we’ve all seen that one episode of going seventeen.)

• y’all definitely have random dance parties from time to time, especially when y’all are home alone and drinking.

• also, he’s DEFINITELY the type of person who would pull you out of the house to dance under the stars or in the pouring rain. SO ROMANTIC AND CUTESY :’)

• he once ended up winning a tiger plushie for you at the fair before y'all even started dating, and you still have it to this day.

• y'all are for sure dressing up as tigers one year for halloween, he insists.

• he enjoys teaching you dances and always lets you watch as he choreographs. hoshi is constantly wanting your input and praise when he does so.

• he’s oblivious to everything besides when it comes to you.

• he has the habit of hogging the blanket at night. definitely looks like a kicked puppy when you shake him awake to yell at him. he truly doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

• he flaunts you with no fear or shame all over his social media. he dngaf about haters, at the end of the day it’s you that he plans to spend the rest of his life with not them.

• be prepared because he would constantly litter kisses ALL OVER your face no matter the time of day.

• if he had to chose between you or kimchi, he would pick you. that’s saying a lot.

• he will forever be your number one supporter. he is always encouraging you and hyping you up despite what situation you’re in.

• he genuinely thinks you’re the absolute cutest !

• he tells you anything and everything, even if it has nothing to do with him. you definitely know all the practice room secrets.

• if you whip out the government name, he would look at you like a deer in the headlights. don’t scare him like that.

• no matter how bad you are at singing, he would always reassure you that it sounds like music to his ears.

• the pantry would always be stocked with frosted flakes. not because he likes the cereal, but rather just because of the tiger on the box.

• he is always taking random pictures of you, it consists of ninety percent of his camera roll. he REFUSES to delete them.

• he’s speaks of you so fondly and definitely might bring you up in every conversation with people absentmindedly. he loves and admires you so incredibly much.

• he used to tickle you often. he stopped when you accidentally elbowed him in the nose one time and made him bleed.

• if you’re allowed to squish his cheeks, then you have to allow him to boop your nose. it’s an eye for an eye.

• whenever you two argue, it’s rare in which it’s serious. it’s mostly just playful little banters here and there.

• if the arguments are ever serious, it plays in his mind a lot. hoshi treats your heart as if it’s made of glass and the last thing he ever wants to do is make you sad or worse, cry.

• he voices his love like shakespeare to you whenever he’s drunk. hoshi most def becomes a giggly, nervous mess whenever you’re around.

• you know how it’s normally the gf that turns their brain off whenever they’re around their boyfriend? yeah, it’s the opposite way around for you two.

• eye of the tiger would be on full BLAST throughout all hours of the day, he claims it’s his favorite song.

[carlsangel]

MY PARENTS’ RINGS

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl have been “married” since childhood.)

tags: flufffff, slight angst, mentions of death.

masterlist here!

You’ve known Carl since you were born. Your moms were bestfriends from high school who’d miraculously gotten pregnant around the same time which, naturally, made you best friends as well. You can’t remember your guys’ first play date, you’d been having sleepovers with him every weekend as well.

Around kindergarten, there was an activity in class where you guys could make jewelry. Carl at the time was completely in love with you, although then you weren’t particularly interested in boys and were more interested in exploring and adventures, you needed someone to go on adventures with.

So, when he’d walked up to you on the playground with the ring he made very poorly, your five year old brain knew exactly where it was going. He proposed to you right there in the pokey wood chips under the slide which by the way was covered in cobwebs. How romantic. You thought that if he’d gone on many adventures with you previously, if he was your husband he’d be forced to be your adventure partner. So you said yes. On the condition he’d be by your side for all your escapades. “Anything for you angel.” He responded.

He held you to it, too. He’d continue to call you his wife and angel, a nickname that’d stick for the rest of your childhood. Everyone knew how much he’d loved you and how much he protected you from anything that could possibly harm you in any way. There was a spider in your room? He’d kill it. Someone was bothering you? He’d help you work it out. You got in an argument with your parents? He was close enough with them to argue with them for you. You ended up helping him through the death of his own father who was also someone you’d looked up to for a long time.

Then, the apocalypse started. You were at Carl’s house with Lori when Shane had arrived to round everyone up. They’d return back to your house to rally up your parents but when Shane went inside to get them, you heard his gun go off a couple times.

He walked out that house alone with a big frown on his face.

So you sobbed the whole time and Carl cuddled your side, holding your hand and occasionally shed some tears. He helped you process it, granted you both were ten but he knew what it was like to lose a parent. When Rick came back, he apologized oddly enough. “Angel…I’m sorry my dad came back.” He told you as you hid in the blanket on your cot that was set up in the Grimes’ tent. You flipped over on your side to look at him. “Why did yours get to come back and not mine?”

Your guys’ “marriage” hit a rough patch to say the least. At some point, Carl walked up to Rick with the dilemma. “My wife is mad at me…how do you make mom feel better?” He asked. Rick informed Lori on the situation and she helped you understand. So from there you dropped your little grudge and realized that you loved Carl back. It only took you maybe five years and yeah you were quite young to know you loved him the way you did, but he was the only person in your life who’d stay consistent; even with the world dying.

A good amount of time had passed, when Shane died the first thing you wanted to do was take anything he possibly had on him. So, you took his 22 necklace and his jacket. Handling his dead body that young wasn’t ideal but you needed to remember him. You shoved his necklace in your pockets and threw his jacket on before escaping from the walkers flooding into the farm.

Upon finding safety, you pull out Shane’s necklace to discover he’d kept your parents rings on his necklace. You didn’t say anything about it, you hid them for the right time. He’d notice them later but he kept quiet about it.

You’d gone through the prison, then Terminus. It felt like Carl had never stopped touching you throughout everything. He was holding your hand or maybe even had his hand gripping your thigh. He’d reassure you by holding you or kissing your cheek repeatedly. He made sure you were well fed while you and the group were on the road after losing Beth. “Here, Angel, take this.” He handed you half of his granola bar.

“Angel, need some water to wash that down?” Abraham nudged a water bottle your way, Carl looked at him funny which caught a couple people’s attentions. Abraham looked around. “What?” He questioned. No one really responded but Tara spoke up, clearing her throat awkwardly before speaking. “I’ve uh…I’ve learnt that ‘Angel’ is just a Carl thing.” She explains. Abraham processes and Rick sort of laughs. “Yeah I’ve known her since she’s was born…he won’t even let me call her that either.” He looks to Carl with a teasing smile, prompting the others to sort of smirk and giggle themselves. “Well my apologies.”

Carl gives Abraham a forgiving nod.

Getting to Alexandria was like a breath of fresh air. You and Carl were able to be somewhat of a normal teenage couple who could go on dates and make out in places they shouldn’t. He helped ease your nerves with the new environment, despite his own considering he didn’t know how real Alexandria really was.

He’d fallen more and more in love with you. At some point he’d brought up your kindergarten marriage.

“Do you remember when you said yes when I proposed to you in kindergarten?” He smiled at you as you leaned your head on his shoulder. The two of you were stargazing on a bench by Alexandria’s pond. “Yeah you’ve never let me forget it.” You respond with a small giggle. He pulled back to look at you. “Well I was thinking…with the way the world is and everything.” He chuckles nervously, looking down at your hands which were tightly gripping each other’s, “Maybe we can really be married.”

He stared at you, anticipating your answer. “Well, I dunno what you mean, we’ve been married this whole time.” You say sort of jokingly, causing him to smile, “I think you just mean official rings. I mean we’ve held the label this whole time. Not to mention you’ve stuck to your vows.” You remind him of how he’d promised to stick with you throughout everything. He nods for a moment, his eyes lingering on your face as he admires how beautiful you are in the light of the pretty moon. “Official rings would be nice.”

Without another word, you pulled your hand away, causing Carl’s expression to drop a tad as you dig into your pocket. Your hand comes back out of your jeans in a fist and you stick your hand out, gesturing for him to put his own out. He places his hand out flat and you drop two rings, the metals knocking into each other with a small clink as he looks into your eyes. “Wait really? Aren’t these…” His voice trails off and he looks at you intently.

“My parents’ rings.”

There’s a moment of silence before you take your dad’s ring from his palm and take his left hand, slipping it gently onto his ring finger. It fit perfectly, almost like it was fitted to him. He looks at it for what felt like ages before taking your mother’s ring in his hand. He gently held your left hand, sliding it on to your ring finger. The two of you put your hands between your bodies and just stare.

He tilts his head back up to look at you and before you could fully look at him he kissed you, gently holding the side of your face while he did so.

It was one of the thousands of kisses he’d given you, but this one was different.

Maybe you could go on honeymoon.

a/n: so anon actually wanted this full of fluff but i couldn’t help myself with some parts of angst LMAOOO sorry anon i hope u still like it. i actually think this is the cutest fucking thing i’ve written in a long ass time I LOVEEE IT SM!!! also for those who’ve been waiting for let me make it up to you part two THAT SHITS BEEN OUT idk not as many ppl saw it and there’s sm smut in that shit >_< anyway thank u sm for this cute ass request it was so fun to write and it got me out of my writing funk :)))

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

[girlokwhatever]

okay guys this is the start of my “big baller” series where two “enemies” (paige and nika) are both in love with their roommate (reader). it’s something different that i’ve been wanting to try so lmk if you like it! it’s not every plot driven and will mostly consist of headcannons, blurbs, ideas, text messages, or social media posts. if you have any thoughts, my inbox is always open!! please enjoy!

— BIG BALLER FLUFF HCS

— paige is the chaotic, energetic one. nika is the calm and relaxed, more levelheaded one. it’s like the best of both worlds! that’s what you tell them anyway.

— when you moved in they were both beyond infatuated with you…. immediately competing for your attention and praise. they already argued a lot before but now it’s even worse, constantly getting on each other’s nerve because they’re both trying to surpass the other.

— once your situation with them starts to change and develop into something more, you really start to notice how different they are from one another. nika is the type to take you out to really fancy dinners at one of those places where they have inedible garnish or something. she’ll pay for the whole thing and even buy you an outfit beforehand to wear. she does it at least twice a month. paige though, she likes to do fun, activity-based stuff that always leaves you exhausted when it’s over. she likes going to the club or a party with you just so you can dance and grind on her. she also likes to go to the park with you, finding a stray basketball and trying to teach you how to play. that’s her way of bonding with you.

— they make you mediate for all of their disagreements. every. single. one. in the end you’re really just trying to get them to be friendly with each other.

— ALWAYS fighting about who gets to sit next to you on the bus, a car, a plane, literally anywhere. they also always fight over whose jersey you’re going to wear for each game. you told them you’ll just take turns and alternate but they still argue about it. paige always insists you wear hers because “it just looks better on you babe,” but nika’s not having it. after each game they’re both racing to get to you so they can get the first hug.

— nika will buy you something nice or give you a sweet little gift like flowers or something and paige will literally regift them to someone else before you can see. when nika asks if you saw them you look at her so confused and paige just giggles silently from the couch like a little menace.

— if you and paige are doing something sweet together without nika…. oh my gosh. paige will literally take pictures of everything and send them to nika just to make her jealous. and it works every time.

— nika will laugh super loudly anytime you’re together in her room or yours just so paige can hear you across the hall. one time paige came bursting into your room asking “what’s so funny huh?” and you’re just glancing between them because you know what’s going on. it makes nika mad when you invite paige in to join you and she gets super snarky LOL.

— at the end of the day, you trying giving them both equal attention because you know if you don’t, you’ll never hear the end of it. somehow you make it work and stop them from ripping each other’s heads off. (you take pictures of them high-fiving or getting along on the court and show them later but they deny it, usually just saying they tried to slap each other but missed or something stupid like that).

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[doomedmoth]

Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

[hellodropbear]

like she used to

alexia putellas x sister

i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.

~~~~~~

I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play. 

But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.

Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were. 

I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much. 

The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could. 

Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear. 

Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured. 

Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework. 

As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy. 

That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years. 

I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter in the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did. 

Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.

Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality. 

"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing." 

She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation. 

It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why. 

It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business. 

I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened. 

"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?" 

It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister. 

I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days. 

Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back. 

"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her." 

She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great. 

I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina. 

I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle. 

I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home. 

Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine. 

I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong. 

Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work. 

"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes." 

Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.

Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay. 

I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason. 

The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt. 

I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair. 

I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me. 

The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi. 

She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable. 

I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true. 

I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me. 

It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy. 

It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was. 

"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."

The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out. 

The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head. 

That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much. 

I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead. 

Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to. 

She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me. 

~~~~~~

"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!" 

The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me. 

I can only smile as she continues. 

"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!" 

"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.

"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites. 

"I am proud of you, pequena putellas." 

Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me. 

I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really. 

"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer. 

"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns. 

"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina." 

Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan. 

"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know. 

"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."

All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected. 

"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."

I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really. 

I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level. 

But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is. 

Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here. 

I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training. 

I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym. 

It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself. 

I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose. 

I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker. 

She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman. 

But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15. 

I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname. 

He told me that he chose me because of my first name. 

"Elena Putellas,"  he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."

It was a big boost to my confidence. 

Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym. 

"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"

"Yes, I am 15." 

I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her. 

She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done. 

Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home. 

"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion. 

"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters. 

"I have been to a few of your games, you know?" 

I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods. 

"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."

She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot. 

"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."

She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug. 

"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"

I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me. 

"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."

The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team. 

We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens. 

It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming. 

"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.

I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years. 

"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words. 

"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it. 

"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her. 

"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings." 

She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing. 

"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am." 

She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway. 

"When did you get so good?"

chapter II

[physalian]

What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

[gemini-sensei]

Secret's Out | Miguel Diaz x Lawrence!Reader

Req: please do Miguel and cryptic pregnancy trope!!! like the process of her giving birth and can this be lawrencereader?? if not that’s okay :) CW: cryptic pregnancy, secret relationship, giving birth, Johnny being Johnny. (unedited)

It was no surprise Reader and Miguel fell for each other. Living in the same apartment complex just across from each other, seeing one another everyday, not to mention he was her father's karate student. It was a recipe for love.

It was also a recipe for disaster, as both Miguel and Reader knew that her father was going to have his head if he ever found out about them.

Johnny Lawrence was old school. He wouldn't like the idea of his star student getting together with his daughter. He didn't even like the idea of her dating even though she was 19 years old and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, thanks to yours truly of course. He'd taught her everything she needed to know about defending herself, not letting anyone sell her bullshit, and being so assertively herself that no one could argue with her about anything. He prided himself in at least raising a daughter who was headstrong, though that sometimes came back to bite him in the ass.

It wasn't one of those days, thankfully, and he was able to work in peace as she helped out around the dojo. She was mostly in charge of helping in demonstrations and setting up dummies as needed, but for the most part, things were going well. It was with LaRusso that Johnny had any problems with as they still butt heads from time to time on how to teach their students.

Reader was talking to Anthony and Devon about something when she felt a pain shoot up her back and through her stomach. She was a tough young lady, so she didn't let it show very much, but as her eyebrows scrunched up, the two students gave her weird looks.

"Are you okay, Reader?" Devon asked, looking her over carefully.

The pain lingered but she nodded. "Yeah, must be a muscle spasm or something."

She rubbed her back, thinking it would pass quietly. Though she'd never felt pain like that before, she wasn't all that concerned with it and she dragged Anthony with her to grab the bo staffs for the next and final lesson. It wouldn't be long before she got to go home.

Halfway through the lesson, though, the same pain surfaced and she felt like she was cramping. It threw her off her drills with the bo and she groaned, waving off the concerned looks of those around her. She didn't need them gawking at her and staring. She didn't finish the lesson with everyone and it pissed her off to no end, but she decided not to dwell on it. The last thing she needed was unnecessary stress on top of whatever it was bothering her.

She walked into the bathroom of Miyagi-Do while the students called it a day. Her father and Daniel cleaned up the yard and patio while she splashed some water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt her face with the back of her hand, but nothing felt off and she didn't look like she was sick. She just looked like she was in pain, which she was, but she quickly shook that look off and decided to finish the day's work. Going home would be fine.

However, she could barely sweep the interior of the house because she kept cradling her belly and groaning. The pain was consistent and happening more often. When her dad and Mr. LaRusso came in to close up, hardly anything was done and they had to question why.

"Reader, you're usually done and gone by now," Daniel said.

She waved him off with a huff. "Cut me some slack, old man. I feel like shit."

"Ah, it's that time of the month," Johnny said, seeing the way his daughter held herself and was slightly slouched over. "You always pull through, you'll be fine."

"Fuck off," she said, knowing damn well he didn't understand a woman's period. She thought about slugging him in the gut and giving him a taste of what that felt like when the pain shot through her again, harder and worse than before. She cried out and almost fell to the floor, only barely leaning against the wall to save herself.

Tears pricked her eyes as the pain became unbearable. Her breathing quickened as it persisted for a moment, her father and Daniel on either side of her in an instant.

Daniel wiped her forehead of sweat she didn't even know about and looked at her father. "I think this is serious. You should take her to the hospital."

Johnny looked worried and fearful of what that could mean, but he didn't argue. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Reader, can you walk?"

"I don't know," she whined, head leaned back against the wall as she put her energy into not crying.

Keeping her eyes clothes, she felt her father pick her up and carry her outside. Daniel led the way, opening the doors in their way. She was placed in her father's van and he buckled her in. He held her face and said, "You're gonna be okay. Whatever this is, you'll get through it."

"Just get me outta here," she groaned.

He nodded and hurried to the other side of the car. He drove as fast and without a care, only thinking of his daughter as she screamed in pain with each shooting pain that came and went. In between those moments, she was moaning and groaning in misery.

Despite his speed, things weren't going fast enough for Reader. Things started to feel weird and hurt more as she sat there. She couldn't sit with her legs together, unable to close them for some reason. She couldn't think straight, her whole body sending signals to her brain about how much pain she was in, and it sucked. However, she began even more scared when she felt a rush of hot liquid gush from between her legs and she was too embarrassed to say anything to her father.

Then something inside of her moved and she didn't know what to make of it. She reached between her legs to feel something bulging from her cunt and she burst into tears, scaring her father.

It had been a long time since he'd seen her cry, especially out of fear or pain, so what the fuck was going on?

When they got to the hospital, Johnny rushed in with her in his arms and she was quickly taken away from the emergency room lobby, leaving both of them alone. No one had any idea of what they were getting into, getting rushed, half-informed explanations from Johnny and quick answers from Reader before she was screaming again. It all happened so fast, but to Johnny, it felt like forever. His mind conjured up the worst case scenarios and he didn't know what to do with himself.

Robby showed up not long after, having gotten word from Mr. LaRusso that his half-sister was rushed to the hospital. He immediately went to Johnny. "What happened?"

"I don't know. One minute, she was fine, and the next she's screaming and crying," he explained, shaking his head. The screams and cries of his only daughter are trapped in his head and it's shaken Johnny to his core. "That's the toughest girl I know. She doesn't cry easily, Robby."

Robby rubbed his father's back in an attempt to comfort him. "I know."

They sit there for an hour before someone can tell them anything.

Carmen Diaz comes out, being neighbors and knowing the family well, she wanted to be the one to give them the update on Reader. She thought Reader was such a nice, strong girl. She knew she and Miguel were close, but she didn't know just how close until about forty minutes ago when Reader made a shocking confession to her. Nevertheless, Carmen held Reader's hand as pushed through the pain.

"Johnny, Robby," she said softly as she approached. She offered a smile because while the situation was scary and unpredictable, it hadn't ended horribly. In fact, it was a joyous occasion. "Reader's going to be okay."

"Okay? You sure? She was screaming her head off all the way here," Johnny said, standing from his seat.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. She took a deep breath. "She gave birth to a healthy little girl."

"Gave birth?" Robby repeated, a shockwave hitting him and his father. How was that possible?

"Like a real baby?" Johnny asked. "Where'd that come from? She wasn't pregnant. I would've known if she was pregnant."

Carmen nodded. "Well, it would appear that she didn't even know she was pregnant. It's called a cryptic or hidden pregnancy and, as the name suggests, it's like a secret. She showed little to no symptoms, got her period regularly, and didn't gain a noticeable amount of weight. It's not typical, but not unheard of."

Johnny and Robby had to sit with that for a minute, letting it sink in. Reader had just given birth to a secret baby that none of them, herself included, knew about. Johnny was still processing everything when Robby asked, "Can we see her?"

"She wants the baby's father to come in first."

"Who the Hell is the baby's father?" Johnny asked, getting protective and defensive. He just spent well over and hour worrying and pacing the hospital lobby only to get sidelined by some shmuck that wasn't there. From where he was standing, this guy better be good enough for his daughter to do something like that.

At that moment, Miguel came running into the lobby with pure panic rushing through his bloodstream and sweat pouring down his face.

"Where is she? Where's Reader?" he asked, looking between everyone there. At that moment, he didn't care about the fact that no one knew they were together. He only cared about her and the emergency that he had to be there for. He's gotten few details over the phone when his mom called, only knowing that he had to be there. "Is she okay? Was there some kind of accident?"

Robby stared at Miguel, fire in his eyes. "No, but I might cause one soon..."

Miguel looked at him weirdly, knowing that Robby was going to be protective of Reader, but now didn't seem like the time. He turned to his mom for answers.

"There wasn't an accident, Miggy, she's okay," she assured him, rubbing his arms to comfort him. "She's being moved to the maternity ward and once they've got her settled in a room over there, you can go see her."

"Maternity ward? Why would she need to be there?" Miguel asked.

He felt Johnny and Robby's eyes burning holes into his whole body as they stared him down. He looked at them questionably, as confused as they had been only minutes ago. Then it dawned on him. "She's pregnant?"

"Was," Johnny grunted, glaring at his star student. "She had the baby already."

"What? How? I mean- how is that possible?"

Carmen rubbed his back as she got a page on her beeper. She checked it before looking at him. "I'll explain it on the way over there. Why don't the three of you follow me?"

By the time they got to Reader's room, Miguel was up to date on the basics what cryptic pregnancies were and how they didn't show themselves. He also got an earful from Johnny about the situation, which sounded a lot like "I can't believe you would do this to me" and "that's my daughter, the one girl in the whole world you, my student, shouldn't have ever gotten with." Robby stayed quiet the whole way there.

Miguel walked right into the room to find an exhausted Reader sitting up on the bed with a baby blanket in her arms. She was just staring down at the little bundle, the smallest of smiles on her lips. When she heard him enter the room, thankfully alone because she wasn't ready to face her father (and she didn't even know Robby was there yet).

"Migs," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

He walked over to her slowly, feeling as though he was in some sort of false reality. How was this possible? How could they not know? Even though he knew the answers now, he was still turning those questions, and more, over in his head. What did this mean for them? He was in college, how was he going to help her raise a baby? Pay for a baby? They didn't even have anything for a baby. They were so unprepared, so there was a part of his mind that thought this was some kind of weird dream he was having.

However, when he was close enough to see the little face of the baby - their baby - peeking out from the blankets, he knew it was real.

Despite her small size, their baby girl had a mop full of dark curls on her head. She had the smallest nose and tiniest lips he'd ever seen. She was fast sleep in Reader's arms, unbothered by anything else around them.

"She looks like you," Reader said, looking up at him with a small smile.

Miguel let out a little laugh. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she told him and giggled. She yawned but tried not to let it show. He put a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him, and he saw how tired she truly was. She barley had any energy let, using what was left to admire their tiny little surprise. "I almost gave birth to her in my dad's van."

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her head. "Glad you made it here in time." He felt so bad that she had to go through that alone. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"Don't be. Seriously, I swear, if you start apologizing for that every day, I'll punch you in the throat," she told him, her brash attitude shining through. He smiled despite her threat. "I'm just happy I'm not dead. Besides, your mom was here and she's great."

"Yeah, she's pretty awesome," he said. He looked back at the baby in Reader's arms and reached out to her, touching her soft hair. "Do you have a name for her?"

Reader shook her head. "I can hardly think right now. I was hoping you'd know something."

"I... I don't know," he said and chuckled. He sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her. "We'll think of something, though."

As they sat in silence, from outside, Johnny and Robby were watching from the door. They peered in but didn't enter, letting the couple have their moment with their new daughter. Johnny still didn't know what to make of it, but as he watched the way Miguel interacted with Reader and their baby, he had a pretty alright feeling about it.

Robby put it into the best words, though; "I guess if it's gonna be anyone, Miguel's good enough."