#am i going to wake up and its all just a dream and everything is FINE

[buck-up-buck]

If anyone needs me i’ll be laying in the middle of the road in the rain for next seven days until 7x10 airs because respectfully ABC, wtaf.

[carrotpiss]

🐰🧡🐻

[yandere-sins]

Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked: 

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

[fairiily]

|| why you keep waking up in your cr

i saw a girl make a tiktok about this and i thought it was a really interesting idea so i wanted to share it with you!

i think we can all agree that one of the biggest ideas on shiftblr is that all you need is intention

but i also think a lot of people can agree with me when i say: “if intention is all you need, why do i keep waking up in my cr?”

ill relate it to lucid dreaming.

most people who want to lucid dream use reality checks as a method to do so

you reality check throughout the day so your subconscious remembers while youre dreaming

maybe it doesnt work the first night you go to sleep, but you keep reality checking as part of your routine until your subconscious remembers too.

another girl related it to birth control

she used to have an alarm set everyday for 1pm to take the pill

eventually, she didnt need the alarm anymore, because her subconscious remembered that around that time of day, she needed to take her birth control pill

its the exact same way with shifting

you set intention to shift before you go to sleep, and you wake up in your cr again

“but i set intention! why am i still here?”

you begin to doubt yourself, in your abilities to shift, that maybe intention doesn’t actually work.

but it does.

sometimes it just takes a little longer for your subconscious to remember the intention you set, for the intention to stick.

many people’s shifting success stories happen when they go to sleep like any other night

they don’t intentionally do a method or set the intention of shifting, but they wake up in their dr.

how does that work?

after going to sleep and setting your intention night after night after night, your subconscious starts to do it on its own.

like reality checking during dreams, or setting an alarm to take a pill

your subconscious doesn’t have eyes, it is something that has to be trained, all it knows is what you tell it.

not everything can be mastered on the first try, you just have to keep trying.

moral of the story is:

intention is real. and its important. dont give up on yourself. keep setting intention. keep going to sleep knowing you will wake up in your dr.

one day you will.

i hope this helped or resonated with some of you, because when i heard about this idea, it gave me a lot of hope that im not doing anything wrong, my subconscious is just taking a little while to catch up.

happy shifting!

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer in love with an artist reader

・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

warning: mild swearing

You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 

You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 

Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 

If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 

Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.

“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 

Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.

Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 

You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.

Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.

Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 

What in the worl-

“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 

Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!

Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 

You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 

You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 

“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 

Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 

“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 

“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”

“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 

“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 

Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?

You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.

You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.

It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 

Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 

He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 

“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 

You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 

“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 

Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 

“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 

Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 

It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 

Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 

He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.

Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 

“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 

“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.

You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.

Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 

“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.

You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.

“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.

Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 

He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 

For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 

Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.

You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 

Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.

“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 

“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.

Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 

“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”

“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 

“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 

“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 

How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?

“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.

“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.

You shrugged, “I have no clue.”

“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”

You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 

“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.

You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.

“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 

Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 

“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.

“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.

Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”

“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”

Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 

“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.

Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 

It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 

Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 

“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 

“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 

Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 

He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.

Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 

Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 

“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.

“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”

“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 

“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 

“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 

Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 

There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 

Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.

“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.

Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  

“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 

He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 

Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 

“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 

Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 

As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 

Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.

“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 

Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 

With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 

Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.

He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 

“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 

Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 

“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 

Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 

Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.

“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 

Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 

Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 

“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 

“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 

Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 

“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.

“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”

A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 

You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.

“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”

Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.

“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 

That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.

“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”

“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 

“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.

“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.

“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”

You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.

“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.

“It sounds kind of gross.” 

“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 

“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.

Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 

“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.

Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.

“So, what did you need my help with?” 

“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 

You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”

Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 

Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 

Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 

Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 

“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 

Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.

Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 

Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 

Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.

In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 

You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  

Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 

You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.

“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 

“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”

“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 

“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 

“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 

Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 

There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 

Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.

“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 

Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 

Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.

You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.

“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 

“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.

“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 

Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.

“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.

Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.

“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.

“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.

Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.

“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 

The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 

He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.

He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 

“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.

“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 

Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.

It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.

“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 

Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 

When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 

“Now what is it?”

“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 

You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 

After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.

Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”

You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”

Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 

You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.

Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.

Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.

Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 

“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.

You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 

“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 

Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)

sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏

taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox

[ladyrijus]

Skyward Sword Zelda is such a tragic figure in my opinion. Just put yourself in her shoes and imagine this.

It's the best day of your life. Your dearest friend, dork that he is, has finally become a knight. It's what every kid on Skyloft works towards and he finally did it. You're so proud of him. When you fly together, you muster up the courage to tell him you love him.

You never get the chance.

Instead you're whisked away into a world you believed was left behind, and saved by a woman who declares that she is your guardian, chosen by you. You have never met her before. You didn't even know there were people like you who lived down here, in the Surface.

"You must purify yourself if you are to transcend time and hold the seal," the mysterious woman with the painted tear remarks as she shepherds you through strange destinations unlike anything your books have ever taught you, "it was your will." No matter how many times she tells you this, in every iteration the language could allow, it doesn't make sense. Why would a goddess need to turn human? What could you do, that she could not?

Where does divinity and humanity diverge?

Connection.

A goddess is revered by her people who pray, in spite of her silence, for her benevolence and guidance. She is their unwavering stone, a higher power to rely on. But a girl? A girl is loved. She is someone tangible, a figure who people will see, and know, and care about, and fight for.

And that's when it clicks. Your friend isn't really your friend at all, but a hero, a pawn, who was intended to be used against an enemy of yours you no longer recognize.

You're using him. You've been using him all this time. It's sickening.

With each prayer, with each goddess damned spring you rush to, you are faced with your own marbled reflection, a testament to the fact your humanity is only a pretense, carefully timed to ensnare your friend into a hero's fate.

He doesn't seem to understand that though. He keeps running after you like the fool he is, hoping to save Zelda, his precious Zelda, that you no longer are. The smile you wear becomes harder to hold. You were Hylia first, and that is all you will ever be.

You play into the charade anyways. After all, Zelda was the reason why he went through his trials. To tell him now that she was gone would mean to destroy everything you had worked for. So you tell him everything he wants to hear: that you're your father's daughter, that you're his friend, that you're his Zelda.

And when you close your eyes, smiling from within the amber and ignoring the dull thuds of his fist against its surface, you wonder if you look anything like the statue you and your love had stood upon on the best day of your life.

"Maybe all of this is a dream," you wonder while drifting in between millennia. Time passes like the waterfalls in Skyloft, rapid, yet everlasting. Maybe you'd wake up in your bed in the Academy again. Your love would have been sleeping in (again) and everything would be how it used to be. You could be Zelda once more. And most importantly, Hylia would be nothing beyond a giant statue for you to ignore for the rest of your days.

... There's something to be said about how you fall again once you wake up.

"What kind of goddess am I," you think crudely, "to sever my own wings?"

But this time, your love is there to catch you. And he does. In that moment you pray, in your own name, he doesn't let you go.

[chiiyuuvv]

WHEN YOU CALL THEM BY THEIR NAME

• PAIRING — bf!riize x gn!reader

• GENRE — worried riize, seunghan is suggestive

• WORD COUNT — 482

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — request on wattpad

• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings , @cake1box

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

After sticking your tongue at you, shotaro decided that he had no choice but to tickle you

Has you on the floor, kicking your feet with a massive smile on his face

"T-taro.. SHOTARO" stops immediately

"Is everything alright? Was i going to far?"

You sticked your tongue at him again, so he just continued ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

You were having a bad day, so eunseok decided to buy you a plushie

"Eunseok!!" You would gasp as he turns around your chair, engulfing him in a big hug

"Do you like it?" He would whisper in your ear, his voice calm and deep as he rubbed circles on your back

Doesnt mind if you call him by his actual name, thats just your way of saying you really like it

And spoils you for the rest of the night ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Sungchans doing his regular 'ol teasing about how short you are

Its gotten to the point where you just ignore him, until he starts poking your shoulder

"hey short-" "sungchan. Im trying to watch my show."

"Oh.." thinks hes went to far, and starts pouting beside you

But you pull him into a hug, letting him know that youre just really anxious for when sofie was going to slap chad in the face ♡

WONBIN ☆

"Do you like it?" His arms were wrapped around your waist, his head on your shoulder as he puts a necklace on you

You gasp. "Wonbin.." and he lifts himself up

"W-was it bad?? I could get you a new one o-or"

You'd have to stop him. "I love it."

"Oh." He'd say with a shy smile, looking down and wrapping you in a hug ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

You guys were having your "loving" time

Seunghan holding you down on his lap as he starts to attack your neck with purplish bites

"Mm.. seunghan." He immediately stops, looking up at you with worried eyes

"Did i do something wrong? Did you not like it?" "Babe what are you talking about?" "You only call me hannie!!"

Then you'd have to explain that you like it, you really like it. "Oh." Then he continues ♡

SOHEE ☆

Sohee wouldnt wake up

"Hehe.. soso.. are you dead or something?"

You said his name, and he immediately shot up

"W-what happened? Am i late? Am i dreaming??"

You said his name again, shutting him up before cuddling with him ♡

ANTON ☆

You were in the bathroom when you shouted his name

Runs to you all worried and shocked because you never call him anton. Its usually babe or baby or ton or ant

"Baby are you okay?! Do you need pads or something?!" He figured you were on your period

"Do you think i could pass off as a dude?" You open the door revealing the makeup you used to show you mustache and beard

Takes a second to process before bursting out laughing "here, lemme help you." ♡

[hrdenha]

— prize possession | p. js

in which, your boyfriend, Park Jongseong comes home not knowing he has a prize to collect. A prize you willingly give for him to possess

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️ consented somno, mentions of alcohol, use of undergarments as a signal, penetration, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f receiving), curses, cockwarming, JAY (yeah, bc he's dangerously HOT), not yet edited - sorry~

NOTES — ! this one's short but I hope y'all will enjoy

It was late, he was late. A deal that made jay busy for the whole week finally ends with them successfully getting it. He wanted to run home and celebrate with you the moment the deal was sealed but, the fate has its own idea on the situation. He called you this evening, telling you the result of their work and his plans to go home right then. But, you enthusiastically told him to celebrate first with his workers, saying they deserved it after a week long sleepless nights. Thus, it's only now that he made home. 1 am in the morning, and he was exhausted through the bones.

As he expected the house was silent when he came inside, the only thing that lights the path for him is the moon. He then finally came through your shared room. You were there laying on your side, back facing him as you sleep soundedly. Jay smiled, taking off his coat, his shoes and belt next in line before diving down the bed letting himself touch and be close with you. Of course, knowing jay he wouldn't let himself sleep without cleaning himself first. One of those things you love about him.

As promised, when he felt recharged by your presence, he finally stood up and took a hot shower for himself, leaving you in the bed still sleeping. The shower definitely refreshed both his body and mind from the hectic schedule that just occurred, even washing away the remnant of alcohol in his system in the process. He's not drunk, but of course, he did take a few shots offered to him by his workers. It's only polite to accept.

Once his hair was dry enough, he again joined you on the bed. Caressing your body in his hands, as he listens to your soft breaths. Planting soft kisses on top of your shoulders, getting drunk on your presence instead of the alcohol. He's wrong though, the hot shower he just took washed away everything aside from the hot blood he's feeling down there. Most especially now that you're responding to his touch by practically moaning his name in your sleep. Not a shocking one, but he was damn turned on about it. He was still in dazed when you started moving quietly on your sleep, snuggling the long pillow close to your body and raising your right leg on it causing your sleepwear to ride up on your hips.

Jay eyes followed it, his breath cut off when he realized. You were wearing THE lingerie. The one jay absolutely loves and adores that grants him a certain privileged. It's not just a piece of seductive clothing but rather a go signal for him.

You wanted him to take you as you sleep and... "Damn, baby." He planted open mouth kisses on your shoulders again, down to your neck and then your cheeks. Pulling your body closer to him with conviction but at the same time care not to hurt or wake you up. And, while his right hand massaged your breast, "You never ceased to amaze me" His other hand started to travel southward, massaging your hips before sliding a finger on your clothed line. Your position just made it all easier, jay can even feel the hot blush on his skin as you started responding to his advances.

"You're wet, baby... even in your sleep you're still a slut waiting for a cock, my cock." He slides the strap to the side revealing your pussy with slick. Jay didn't even wait, he immediately plunged his tongue taking advantage of how wet you are. You started raising your hips in contact, moaning in your dreams as the pleasure started to spread widely.

Jay started maneuvering your body, now as you lay flat on your back taking your panty completely before he gladly played on your pleasure. Drowning on your wetness and scent, he continued working his way. His eyes occasionally opening and glancing upwards whenever he hears a sharp whimper. He can feel the tightness on his hips, how his loose sweatpants became tight at the growing bulge he had. It's twitching, so thirsty to feel your tightness but jay had other plans.

He's still downing your juices, as if making a statement that other than alcohol, he too can get drunk on your essence. "J-a...y" You whimpered his name more clearly than the last time but still incoherent. And, he took it as a signal. It's the best time to fucked you lazy when you're still in the middle of consciousness and sleep.

His clothes swiftly took their landing on the floor leaving their owner naked, he's painfully hard and erect. And, the only cure effective for this is you. Jay took the place beside as he positioned you in a spoon, your back on his chest as he possessively hug you from behind. He then started dragging his head on your slit coating it with your mixed fluids. He groaned at his antics, and more than ever when he finally pushed his tip inside.

"Hm... baby" He whispered on your ears, the hand that encircled your waist raised your right leg causing him to push his cock again. It was deep but jay wasn't in fully, he knows it can be deeper than that and even if he wanted to just push it, he wouldn't. He wanted your brain to realized on its own that someone's using your body amidst its rest. What's more exciting than your reaction realizing his assault?

Jay started thrusting, it was painfully slow and tender, he might as well teasing himself. His right hand playing on your breast as he did. "Wake up..." Thrust. "It's time to wake up, baby" His pace started picking up, and so are your whimpers. From the way your body jolts up in every thrust is an equivalent of glass shattering from your sleep. You were floating, in the middle of a medium where no one can disturb your peace. Then, a pair of gentle hands appear out of nowhere, stroking... kneading your body. You start chasing those hands, desperately searching for more. The strokes only get hungrier, yet patient and collected. One that takes its time while you, on the other hand, are getting impatient. Thus, you revel in the pleasure you're given while the touch becomes more demanding.

With one particularly hitting your spot, you started stirring up from your sleep. Half-consiously basking on the bliss that are given much to jay's anticipation. He pushed himself more fully enjoying your pussy in its glory earning a sharp breath from you as the numbing feeling of pleasure started spreading out your system. "Jay...?" You shift having a sharp inhale when he hit the spot again. "Fuck, jay... baby. yeah th— that feels..." Jay's thrust never falter even when he started his kissing escapades with you anchoring your neck at best just to taste his lips as he continues rutting from behind. It even helped Jay in advantage when he started grabbing you by the neck causing his dick to push deeper than ever. You moaned in response, leg rising on its own to feel more while your hand — on a desperate attempt to find support, found its way on jay's nape.

"...always wanted to wake up with your cock inside me, jay"

"Ah! Shit..." You hissed. Jay chuckled, darkly. "You like that baby? I bet you do. Pussy so tight when I hit this spot even when you're asleep."

"Jay... Jay!"

"But, I might say... f-uck! You're tighter when you're awake." That made everything intensify, even you, felt how your pussy tightened around him at that. Jay groaned, immediately laying you on your back rutting his cock again. The room is filled with moans and wet skin slapping. You started seeing stars in your eyes, can't do anything but to curl your toes and repeatedly call jay's name.

"Ugh! Baby, baby! I-I think I'm gonna... I think I'm gonna" like a broken record, holding him close as if it will help not to lose your sanity. "Fuck, y/n! Fuck!" His hips rock harder and firmer, adding pressure to the prominent feel of sex. And, with lines of curses coming from both of you, he thrust deeper past your rear as you finally feel a warm feeling flooding inside you while your soul starts to fly apart from the rippling waves of your high. Jay whimpers at ecstasy, his muscles relaxing from his own release before facing you. He silently took your cavern, sharing a passionate kiss as if it was his way to show appreciation and how thankful he was. After that he goes limp, holding you while still on top. At the same time, you felt his cock going soft within you but jay didn't mind, and that goes both ways. He didn't pull out, he even pushed it further as if trapping your mess and for some reason, that made your heart full. You let him use you in any way he sees fit. Jay deserves a price, after all.

hrdenha, 2024

likes, reblogs, and comments are deeply appreciated 💖

[tetsuslove]

🖤: Can’t stop thinking of Simon with a breeding kink:( so I needed to write this short Drabble about it sobso

Suggestions are always welcome, especially if it’s about Simon <3

︙Husband! SIMON RILEY x Wife!.Reader

Warnings: nfsw! (18+ ; mdni!), breeding, talking about pregnancy, biting, praise, soft! Dom Simon because I love him, pet names, no editing! ( will do it in the morning )

“Go on, love”, Simon groans besides your ear while he speed up his moves, “tell me what we are doing”. Your eyes are maybe closed because how intense everything is right now but you sure can hear and feel his smirk, knowing that he got you there where he wanted you

“Bab-“ you gasps because Simon of hard bites down on your shoulder “what was that, hm? Tell me” he says in a more teasing way but sure sounds like an order to answer him and of course the man he is, he sure gets what he wants

“Baby!”,you scream louder, “we are making a baby!”. And for now your husband is satisfied, loving the idea and action that you can get ( and will be) pregnant with his children, already thinking how you will look all round with his child. Breats full of milk to feed the child. It turns this man into an animal, wanting turn his pretty wife into a pretty mama

“good girl- what a good wife” he chuckles and sits up again so he can see your tits bouncing while you try to hold on the bedsheets with your dear life. “It feels good making a baby, right love? Going to look so pretty with our child- going to spoil you more- urgh.. going to spoil you more than you already are”

And he is a man who keeps his words. Maybe you are already a spoiled wife but you sure can be a spoiled mama too. Trying to make sure you eat and drink enough, so you and your baby are doing fine. You see cute baby clothes? He will buy for you and your child right away. Your feet’s are hurting? Lay down on the couch and he will give you a good massage. Some carvings at 1 am ? Don’t worry, he will drive you everywhere you want, just don’t go by yourself!

— It’s all started when one of his coworkers showed him and the other teammates some photos of his newborn proudly at the pub few weeks ago and somehow the whole baby thing started to haunt him. Like one day, a little boy thought that Simon is his father so he hugged Simons leg giggling while Simon just wanted to buy you some flowers at a flower shop, noticing the child on his legs and calling him “papa! Look at the flowers!! ”. Or when he only saw for a whole day commercials for baby products on the TV and every time he tried to change the Chanel, a new commercial popped up.

But the most important thing why it all started for him to want a baby is because he had a dream of you and him.. and a third family member in your arm. You looking beautiful and carrying the child in your arms, smiling at Simon with so much love that he even fell in love with you all over again in his dream. “Look, Papa is here” you said to your baby in the dream and tried to show your child to Simon but only to wake and to realize what he dreamed about

With all these thoughts he doesn’t realize how strong his poundings are but it sure feels good enough that your brain turns into liquid. He moves a hand from your hips away to massage your one tit. Squeezing it so you feel him everywhere and to make sure if you still have the brain to now what’s going on (spoiler: you don’t)

“Si-Simon, can’t no more” trying to look at him but fail, with the tears in your eyes, you just can see things blurry but that okay, just let your husband take care of you<3

“Go on, love- it’s okay, let yourself feel good.. let go” he huffs and groans while trying to reach his high too, cumming inside your walls and now giving you his babies

“Fucking hell-” he groans while you came too, squeezing his dick inside and finally reaching you climax and relaxes again.. finally your brain can turn into its normal form again

While you both try to catch your breaths, Simon looks at you, at his cute fucked wife. How beautiful you look even if you would say otherwise but no, you are always beautiful and he sure enjoys the view. You and your body in sweat and his cum inside, his babies

He cups one of your cheeks so you look at him, you don’t say anything, just to busy trying to catch your breath but your and his eyes are communicating, telling each other how much you love the other one and giving one last kiss to end the whole making love thing

“You good, love?”he asks, looking a bit worried hoping that he didn’t hurt you in any way but seeing you nodding and smiling, he lets out a sighs of relief. Giving a kiss on your forehead and of course always praising you “you were perfect my love, my sweet wife” and starts his ritual of after care

“Here, something to drink, love. I will now clean you up, okay” he gives you a comforting smile, putting some hair away of your sticky forehead and goes to the bathroom

Now it got you thinking how Simon would be as a dad and you know, that the Lieutenant would do anything to complete his mission

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult epilogue

Heyyyy. So who know that I am an adult ending would cause so much debate ahahaha. But real talk, thank you so much for your support and comments - I love them all <3<3<3

Here is the epilogue to I am an adult. It is set at the UWCL final 2025 (getting the manifesting in early) and is fluffy to make up for the angst in the series hehe.

Shout out to @lyak12 for the inspiration and hype on this - lots of love to ya. Also she is the reason this is out earlier than planned <3

Anyways, I hope you enjoy

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: R and Lena go watch Barça win the UWCL

TW: Shit do be fluffy as fuck

Lisbon was sunny and welcoming. The gentle golden light spilled into the hotel room, the white curtains dancing in the salty air. It was early, far too early to be awake. The sun filtered through, pulling you from sleep’s embrace. The city outside was just beginning to stir; workmen’s chatter and the clatter of the trams drifted up from the streets below. The aroma of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee wafted through the open window, mingling with the scent of the sea. You lay there for a moment, savouring the peaceful transition from dream to reality. How different everything was from this time last year.

You groaned as you shifted onto your back, stretching slightly to relieve the aches gained overnight. It was warm in bed – the good kind of warm, the type that made you never want to leave its confines again. You shimmied your way across the bed a little more, relishing the source of the heat. Lena’s skin was smooth under your fingers, the muscles soft yet firm as your hands danced around her bare waist. Her face was turned away from you, her dark hair fanning across the pillow, loose pieces falling across her forehead. She stirred slightly at your touch, a contented sigh escaping her lips. You smiled, pressing a featherlight kiss on her shoulder, relishing in her presence, relaxing into the warmth of her body next to yours.

The past year had been a whirlwind. From moving clubs to moving countries to building a life with Lena, but now, in this serene moment, everything felt right. You were in Lisbon with the love of your life. You were about to watch your best friends, your family, compete for their fourth title. You had just come off the back of a fantastic first season at Bayern and had about two weeks off before the Euros preparation began. Everything was so different from this time last year.

You closed your eyes, listening to the symphony of morning sounds mingling with the steady rhythm of Lena's breathing. The faint calls of seagulls, the distant hum of the city waking up, all formed a backdrop to the intimate quiet of your hotel room. You felt the bed shift as Lena rolled over, muttering something in her sleep as she flopped onto you, her breath puffing gently against your collarbones. You gazed down at her, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she dreamt. There was something magical about these quiet mornings you had grown to love, the world outside moving at its own pace while you and Lena enjoyed the luxury of stillness. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest, each breath syncing with yours in a timeless, perfect rhythm.

Your mind wandered back to the adventures and challenges of the past year. Moving to a new country had been daunting, with the language barrier, the differences, and the new playing style, but Lena had been your anchor through it all. Her unwavering support made the transition easier, helping you establish yourself in the team and navigate the new league. She had encouraged you to return to Barcelona whenever you could. Christmas had been a whirlwind of travel, stopping off quickly to see Lena’s family before spending New Year's in the Spanish city. You savoured your time in the city you once called home, basking in the sun that seemed too rare in Munich.

As the minutes passed, the city outside grew livelier, the sounds of daily life becoming more pronounced; the workers on their morning commutes, the tourists discovering the metropolis. Yet, in your cosy haven, time seemed to slow down. You stroked Lena's back gently, your touch light and reverent. The sun continued to rise, casting a golden glow that bathed the room in warmth and light.

You felt a deep sense of contentment as you lay there, holding each other. Moments slipped past as you reminisced on the season gone by - the highest joys, the lowest lows, and the simple moments in between. Everything seemed so … complete … yet so different from how you would have imagined your life.

Eventually, Lena stirred again, this time her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at you, her gaze sleepy but filled with affection. "Guten Morgen," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

She smiled a slow, sweet smile that made your heart swell. "Hast Du gut geschlafen?"

"I did. It was perfect," you said, and it was true. With Lena beside you, everything was perfect.

“Wh-what time is it?” she asked drowsily, her hand coming to rub the sleep from her eye.

“Um… a little after 8, I think,” you replied, glancing at the blinking clock on the edge of the TV.

Lena groaned softly, snuggling closer to you. "Do we have to get up yet?"

You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. "Not just yet. We have some time before we need to head out."

"Gut," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ich möchte noch ein bisschen so bleiben.”

You tightened your arms around her, enjoying the feeling of her body against yours. “Ok, Liebe.” The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment.

The atmosphere inside the stadium was electric. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, the energy palpable and infectious. Thousands of Culers filled the stands, making it feel like you were back at the Johan for an El Clásico; flags were waved high, scarves were held aloft, and faces were painted in Blaugrana. As the clock ticked down to kickoff, the noise level increased. Chants and songs erupted from different sections of the stadium, each group of supporters trying to outdo the other. Drums pounded rhythmically, creating a heartbeat that pulsed through the crowd. The sound of drums and air horns added to the cacophony, a symphony of support that echoed through the vast arena.

As you weaved your way through the crowd, you felt Lena’s hand skim your lower back, her fingers resting on the bare skin. You looked back over your shoulder, smiling at her as you caught her eye.

“Stay close to me, Schatz,” she called, her body moving closer subconsciously. “I don’t want you to get lost.” You smiled at her concern, switching the half-full cup in your other hand to interlock your fingers with hers.

“Now, you can’t go anywhere either,” you teased, pressing a kiss on the back of her knuckles.

The two of you continued to navigate through the throng of fans, stopping occasionally to take photos of each other and with the fans, the excitement around you intensifying with every step. The smell of food mixed with the fresh scent of the afternoon air, creating an intoxicating blend that was quintessentially football. Vendors shouted their wares, adding to the lively atmosphere, while children darted between legs, their faces alight with the joy of the occasion. This … this is what helped you fall in love with the game as a little girl – balancing high on your parent's shoulders, joining in on the chants until your voice was hoarse, grinning so widely your face hurt.

The stadium loomed large above you, the sun beating down, promising a perfect day for football. As you reached your seats, you felt a rush of exhilaration. The view of the pitch was perfect, and you could see the players warming up, their movements sharp and precise. Lena squeezed your hand, her excitement mirroring your own.

“Starting XIs … go,” she laughed as you demanded her answer. You bickered the time away, questioning the potential lineups, the tactics, the score line.

The crowd's energy reached a fever pitch as the players took their positions on the field, and the referee prepared to blow the whistle. The roar that erupted when the game began was deafening, a collective outpouring of passion and support. You and Lena were swept up in the moment, cheering and clapping along with everyone else, your hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the match. You had no time to reminisce about the sadness you had felt a few days ago – longing for this to be you on the field. But, as Lena reminded you, there was always next year. And it was your family down on the grass. Your family was preparing for this moment, but there was no way you were missing this because of what? You were feeling a little sad for yourself.

The stadium erupted in a chorus of cheers and chants as Barcelona clinched their fourth Champions League, three consecutive victories. The air crackled with jubilation, fans embracing strangers and loved ones alike, swept up in the euphoria of the Blaugrana victory. You and Lena joined in the celebrations, caught up in the wave of emotion that swept through the stands. Fireworks lit up the sky above the stadium, illuminating the faces of jubilant supporters. You barely noticed the tears streaming down your face until Lena tenderly wiped them away.

“Schatz?” she asked carefully, her lips brushing the shell of your ear to be heard above the noise.

“Hmm?” you sigh, looking up at her. She was awfully close; a slight readjustment and your lips would be on hers.

“Bist du bei mir?”

“Yeh,” you breathed out, leaning into her hand resting on your cheek.

“Do you want to go down to the pitch to see everyone?” she asked. You nodded slowly, still dazed by her closeness, drunk on her cinnamon scent. “C’mon,” she smiled, lacing your fingers together as she tugged you down the steps. You could see the huddle of players doing their lap of the pitch. You spotted familiar faces beaming into the crowd, waving as they found their personal supports.

You didn’t have to wait long before Clàudia spotted you, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Oh, Déu meu, Oh, Déu meu, Oh, Déu meu," she exclaimed, practically pulling you over the barrier into a warm hug.

“Cuidadosa, Clàu,” you chuckled, reciprocating her tight embrace. Her infectious enthusiasm swept you up, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Help a girl onto the pitch?” you teased, amused as she hoisted you over the metal barrier.

“You too, Lena.” She smiled, offering a hand to your girlfriend.

As you watched Lena gracefully navigate over the barrier, you suddenly felt a weight on your back, causing you to stagger briefly. The arms wrapped around you were pale with light freckles adorned with familiar tattoos. "Usted vino," came the cheerful voice from behind you.

“Of course I came, Oni. Not a chance in hell I would miss this," you replied, twisting awkwardly to reciprocate her hug. You both spun around playfully, laughing at Ona’s delighted squeals. "Vamos, Oni, get down so I can give you a proper hug," you chuckled, patting her forearm gently.

She embraced you tightly, conveying in that moment all the unspoken words and emotions of your time apart and the joy of the occasion. "Felicitaciones, Oni. Estoy muy orgulloso de ti," you whispered in her ear, feeling her hold tighten in response.

"Desearía que todavía estuvieras jugando con nosotros," Ona murmured wistfully, her voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no tears," you insisted gently, pulling back slightly to meet her eyes. "I miss playing with you too. I missed my favourite defender when I’m over in Germany. But no thinking about that today. This is your moment." You shook your head with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Because my best friend has another Champions League title with her childhood club!" You swayed gently from side to side, celebrating quietly together.

After a few more precious moments locked in each other's arms, you gently nudged her towards her waiting family on the edge of the pitch. Watching her run off, you meandered through the players until you found Lucy.

"What number's this?" you teased, tapping her on the head playfully.

"Fuck off," she laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into her.

"So, how's Munich treating you?" Lucy asked casually as if you hadn't been catching up frequently over the phone with Ona, her often joining in on the conversations.

"It’s been great; I’m really happy," you nodded to yourself – the circumstances of your arrival might not have been the best, but you certainly weren’t regretting going.

"I’m glad to hear that. Gee mentioned you seem a lot happier now," Lucy remarked.

"Keeping tabs on me, Luce?" you grinned.

“Of course, I have, kid. You’re basically my future-sister-in-law.” she teased. You froze momentarily.

"What?" you exclaimed, briefly stunned. "Have you? You better not be fucking with me, Bronze!"

“Chill, chill. Not yet, I haven’t. But I’ve got a ring, that’s for sure.” Lucy grinned mischievously, her words hanging in the air between you two. Your heart raced with the implications of her statement, and you stared at her in disbelief. You gawked at her, mouth hanging open. You blinked a few times, processing the absolute insanity that was running through your mind. You saw her bite her lip somewhat nervously. Was she anxious that you’d disapprove? You squealed, leaping onto her, joining in with the chorus of laughter.

“She’ll say yes, you know that, right?” you promised her

“That’s the plan,” Lucy joked, and you chuckled, pulling her happily into another hug.

“When?” you moved closer to her, your hand automatically coming to cover your lips.

“Probably depending on the outcome of the Euros. If she wins or we win again, then probably the first chance I get. Assuming it’s not the World Cup all over again,” she laughed a little. “If not, then when we’re on holiday afterwards.”

“Never would I thought I’d see the day,” you mocked, laughing as you brought her into another hug.

“You know … Gee mentioned something about you saving up? And that you’ve been asking Harder and Eriksson about holiday destinations? I think jewellery shops were involved,” she said casually. You blushed at her insinuation, the hue deepening as she snickered at your expression.

“Mind your business, Bronzey. When there’s something concrete to tell you, you know Ona will be the first to know, and by default, you’ll be the second.” You looked over at Lena. The way she had so seamlessly slotted into your life made your heart swell. You smiled as she laughed with Patri and slung her arm freely around Vicky.

“Oi, Lucia. Stop hogging, the pequeña.” Mapí called out, waving you both over to the gathered group of players. Lucy rolled her eyes playfully at Mapí's interruption but kept her arm around you as you walked towards the others. You couldn't shake off the mix of excitement and nervousness that Lucy's revelation had sparked in you. The group looked up as you approached, their smiles widening at seeing you and Lucy together again.

“What’s got you two all giggly?” Keira asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity. Of course, Lucy would have told Keira about her plan.

Lucy glanced at you with an impish grin before speaking, “Oh, just discussing some future plans.”

Your cheeks flushed as Lena turned to you, a puzzled expression on her face. “Future plans, huh? Care to share?”

“Nope,” you said hastily,

“All in good time, Oberdorf. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.” Lucy grinned even wider, wiggling her eyebrows at the confused German, clearly enjoying the moment.

Slowly, you were ushered off the pitch by the officials, their gentle reminders of moving to the changing rooms and family boxes drowned out by the exuberant celebrations around you. The floodlights cast long shadows across the grass, and the deafening cheers of fans echoed through the stadium, but amidst the joy and chaos, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness over the absence of a particular blonde. She was there; you had seen the familiar bounce of her ponytail through the crowd, but every time you tried to reach her, she had disappeared again, swallowed up by the sea of people.

Determined, you stood on your tiptoes, craning your neck to see above the throng, searching for that familiar face. Your heart raced with anticipation and a hint of frustration.

“Buscando a alguien?” Her familiar voice cut through the noise, and you jumped, startled.

“Christ on a bike. Give a girl a heart attack why don’t you?” you grumbled teasingly, turning to face her.

“Lo siento.” Alexia smiled down at you, her laughter bubbling up, making you press a hand to your chest dramatically to calm your racing heart. You playfully shoved her shoulder before she pulled you into a warm hug. God, you had missed these. Alexia’s hugs were safe, comforting like a mother’s embrace, a sanctuary where you could rest for a moment amidst the chaos.

“Proud of you, Ale,” you murmured into her shoulder, your voice thick with emotion.

Alexia chuckled, the sound vibrating through your entire body, grounding you.

“Thank you, pequeña,” she said softly, her accent thick and endearing. Her words were like a balm to your soul. “I’m proud of you, too, you know.”  You felt a flush of warmth at her words, a mixture of pride and affection swelling in your chest. The noise of the celebration faded into the background as you tightened your arms around her waist, feeling her solid, reassuring presence. You relaxed completely when you felt her place her cheek on your head, the gentle pressure conveying a depth of love and pride that words could never fully capture. “You’ve done good, cariño.”

The world around you continued to roar in celebration, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of mutual respect and affection. You felt like you were 16 again, new to Barcelona and needed a steady presence to guide you. She hugged you warmly and promised to always be there for you. You breathed in her familiar scent, a mix of sweat, grass, and a hint of her favourite perfume, and let out a contented sigh.

“Ahora, entonces,” she said letting you go. “Lucy mencionó algo sobre las joyerías en Munich?”

[versethetic]

feelings don't dictate. belief does.

putting this up here for my own archive. but i am once again reiterating that it does not matter how you feel.

you can feel confident as fuck and still believe you're gonna fail a test.

you can feel like dogshit about going on stage and delivering a speech and still believe you're gonna fucking kill it.

i can feel like i need to do more to get my perfect life. i can feel like i'm not being consistent enough. i can feel like there's something i'm not doing right.

but i will still, always choose to believe that it is done. i will always choose to believe that i've already got it. i will always choose to believe that no matter how i feel, i am living my dream life.

that is it. feel how you need to feel.

be sad; you feel like you "don't see it."

be upset; it feels like its "taking forever."

be mad; you feel you aren't "doing enough."

then when you've processed what you feel. get right back to what you believe.

be happy; you believe that it's already accomplished in the 4d and is yours.

be overjoyed; you believe that you are a master manifestor who gets shit instantly.

be ecstatic; you believe everything you do is perfect. you can do no wrong. manifesting is the easiest thing in the world to you.

rant:

i get upset with myself sometimes. its been infinitely better now than even a few months ago, but i often felt like if i don't remember to persist or affirm or wtvr then im losing sight of my end goal, my manifestation.

i feel down when i wake up and "don't see my perfect life" and it sucks. i have bad days; so do many other folks on this app. but when i read and see from other blogs that feelings aren't the end all be all of my manifestation journey. it makes me so fucking happy.

so i may feel these things from time to time. but now, i can always choose to just not believe it. i can choose to believe that i've always been living my dream life. i can choose to believe that i don't need to remember to affirm and visualize everyday because i'm already perfect. i believe that no matter how much i feel like i need to do smth, it only matters that its already been decided.

[carmenized-onions]

I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

 “Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

Next Part

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (10/?)

Part Summary: “Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you again.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.200+ | Warnings: UST, fluff, very light angst | Author's note: I think the summary should tell you what to expect *winks*.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

-

Despite going to bed very late, getting up in the morning isn't hard for you. Though it’s mainly because you barely had any rest at all. The real reason you couldn't sleep wasn’t the couch’s fault—it was the soft, irregular snores drifting in from the bedroom and the new, quiet awareness of someone else in your apartment. Every so often, Leigh would make a sound or shift in her sleep, and you would clench your fist hard against the blanket, resisting the urge to go check on her. 

The stillness of the early dawn settles around you, and Leigh’s words come back to you like a quiet sail. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone’s house and not have sex?” she had said once, during one of your long, winding confrontations about Matt. It was a statement that had deeply affected you then, and even more so now, with her just a room away. You remember recoiling when she nearly spat the words at you. You wonder if Leigh also remembers, especially considering last night.

You rise from the couch before your alarm has a chance to ring, padding softly into the kitchen. 

Cooking breakfast has become a kind of ritual, an act of service between the two of you. Smiling at this thought, you crack eggs into a bowl, add milk and vanilla, and start whisking. You soak slices of bread in the mixture, heat up the pan, and place them down to cook. French toast is on the menu today, and you hope Leigh likes it.

You set the table quietly, arranging the plates and cutlery, pouring orange juice into glasses. As you lay down the last slice of French toast on the plates, you add a light dusting of powdered sugar and a few slices of fresh strawberries for a pop of color and sweetness. With everything prepared, you sit down at the dining table to wait for Leigh to wake up.

After a while you glance at the clock and see it's 6:30 AM. You need to be at the clinic in an hour. With a sigh, you cover Leigh's plate with a napkin to keep it warm and start eating alone, just as you've done since moving here.

Finishing your breakfast, you wash the dishes and put everything away, your movements mechanical. You know you should get in the shower soon, but everything you'll need to prepare is in the bedroom. Pushing the door open just a crack, you peek inside to see Leigh sleeping peacefully, her face so different from its usual, more troubled visage when awake. She’s lying on her back with her mouth slightly open. The sheets have slipped past her hips, and her shirt has ridden up, exposing her stomach to the cool air. You tiptoe into the room and carefully pull the covers back up over her, tucking them around her gently.

Afterward, you crouch by the bed for a minute, simply observing her steady breathing. You feel a surge of affection as you watch her, wondering if she feels safe here, with you. Her face, relaxed and unguarded, is the very same one that Matt woke up to every day of his life for the past decade until he left this world. You think to yourself what a privilege it was for him, to have shared so many mornings with her, to have been woven into her waking thoughts and dreams.

While you’re cautiously sweeping a few strands of hair from her face, Leigh’s lips suddenly move in her sleep. They part slightly as if she's talking, but no sound escapes. Her forehead creases into a frown—she's clearly dreaming. It's a serious, focused expression that makes her look like she’s deep in conversation with someone in her dream world, and you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle at the sight.

Realizing you've lingered longer than intended, you force yourself to stand. You quietly retrieve a towel and some clothes, deciding to take your shower in the living room bathroom. As you lather soap over your torso, the image of Leigh’s exposed skin haunts your thoughts—the small, soft patch of her stomach you saw earlier. Your fingers inadvertently brush over your own nipples, and you can't help but compare the sensation to what touching Leigh's skin might feel like, if the rest of her body feels just as smooth and supple as it looks. The thought sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming despite the warm water. Your fingers wander lower almost of their own accord. A gasp escapes your lips when the tip of your forefinger brushes against your clit, the touch sparking an unexpected surge of arousal. Shocked by your own reaction, you quickly turn the shower knob, the water temperature dropping to a chill that snaps you out of your fantasies.

Get a grip, you mutter to yourself, feeling a combination of embarrassment and frustration. Leigh is just in the next room, trusting you, and here you are getting carried away. Shivering a bit under the cold spray, you finish up quickly, wrap yourself in a towel, and get dressed. 

You take one last look at Leigh before you leave. She’s still sprawled out in the same comfy position, deep in sleep. Waking her doesn't feel right—not just to say a quick goodbye before you rush off to work. Instead, you jot down a note on a piece of your prescription pad. It’s a quick message letting her know breakfast is ready on the table, she should feel at home, and you’ve left an extra set of keys for her. You apologize for the early exit and sign your name with a flourish. You tuck the note under her plate of French toast, placing the keys beside it. Then, remembering the night might have left her with a bit of a hangover, you put a glass of water and an aspirin by her bed. You're trying to think of everything she might need to start her day off right.

“Bye, Leigh,” you whisper as you give the room one final glance. You step out into the morning, locking up but leaving a part of your mind behind, picturing her waking up comfortable and cared for. It’s ironic that just when you decided to keep your distance, you start running into situations that make you fall even harder for her. It's as if fate is constantly nudging you in her direction.

And frankly, you don't mind it at all.

-

Leigh stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open to a room that isn't hers. For a brief, groggy moment, she thinks she’s in Danny’s bed, but the scent is all wrong. Where Danny’s sheets carried a distinct note of sandalwood, they smell of lavender and something more… feminine. The soft difference in fragrance tugs at the edges of her memory, pulling forward the events of the previous day.

She blinks slowly, her mind piecing together the snapshots: the sharp words exchanged with Danny that morning, the solo trip out on Halloween, finding herself unexpectedly in Matt’s favorite restaurant. That’s when you came into the picture, dressed up for a date that never showed, and Leigh stepped in. You both shared a beer on the hood of your car, surrounded by glimmering, dreamlike sights, but all she could focus on was how the streetlights played over your face, making you look almost magical as you laughed, a half-empty box of donuts on your lap. You looked so... pretty, she thinks, the image stubbornly etched in her mind.

The night didn’t end there. She took you to a party. It was loud, crowded, but when you danced, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She remembers drawing you to the dance floor, guiding your hands to her hips as she swayed. She recalls gazing at your lips, wondering how they would feel against hers.

Leigh buries her face into your pillow, her cheeks burning as she reminisces how close you were, your lips barely an inch apart. She tries to laugh it off, but it’s hollow, and her face grows hotter as she recalls you pulling away, the almost-kiss dissolving into nothing. The last-second rejection stings, but what really makes her squirm is the heat flooding her body just from thinking about it. In an attempt to distract herself, Leigh snuggles deeper into your bed, but it backfires. One deep breath and she’s engulfed by the scent you left on the pillow. It feels as if you’re right there beside her, the illusion so convincing that it briefly soothes the ache of your actual absence. 

And it's in this moment, surrounded by traces of you, that Leigh finally allows herself to fully acknowledge the attraction she’s been trying to ignore. It's been a slow, maddening realization, an interest that has compounded until it could no longer be overlooked. It’s ridiculous, really, because it sort of feels like she’s proving Matt right, wanting you just like he did. She sits up, clutching the sheets close, her heart racing as she turns over everything in her mind. It feels contradictory yet somehow... inexorable, as if it were always meant to happen.

But Leigh pushes back against the idea that anything in her life is fated, especially when it comes to who she might fall for. She's always believed in steering her own ship, picking her paths, her battles, her loves. Not just going with the flow of something because it feels like the universe is pushing her that way. She wraps the sheets tighter around her, needing to feel safeguarded, needing to remind herself that she calls the shots. 

She climbs out of bed and starts pacing restlessly like a mad woman. Yes, there's something about you that pulls at her, but that doesn’t mean she has to lose herself to it. For all she knows, it’s just a silly crush, perhaps amplified by the thought that you might have liked her first. It's probably just that—reciprocal attraction—nothing more.

A sudden noise from the living room jerks Leigh out of her tumultuous thoughts, and she frantically whips her head towards the door. It’s been so loud inside her head, that she hasn’t even considered the possibility that you might be out there—in your own apartment. Leigh stops pacing and strains to hear more. 

There’s another sound. Thud. Thud.

With a shaky breath, she calls out, “Y/N?” 

When no answer comes, Leigh edges out of the bedroom tentatively, as if stepping into her own trial. Her nerves are strung tight with anticipation of confronting you, the newly-minted object of her affection. However, as she rounds the corner, she finds only an empty living room. The quiet is almost startling. Another thud makes her jump—a dull, persistent noise. Turning towards it, she sees only pigeons at the living room window, poking their beaks against the glass, and Leigh exhales a long sigh of relief.

Intrigued, Leigh approaches the window to observe the pigeons. They remain undisturbed as she draws closer, diligently pecking at seeds scattered on the windowsill. So, you’ve been feeding them. It’s a small, charming detail about you that she hadn’t known, and it warms her heart to see this caring, tender side of you. Much like the way you took care of her last night, she feels like one of those pigeons.

Leigh leans against the wall next to the window, watching the pigeons bob their heads and shuffle around. Her eyes then drift to the dining table and land on a plate, invitingly covered, with a piece of paper peeking out beneath it. She walks over and lifts the cover to reveal a hearty serving of French toast, artfully arranged and topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.

The sight of the breakfast makes her mouth water, and without thinking, she reaches out with her hands and takes a bite. It's still slightly warm, a sign that you haven't been gone long. Comforted by this thought, she pulls out a dining chair and settles in, making herself comfortable. Then, picking up the note, she unfolds it to read while she enjoys her breakfast.

Hope you enjoy the French toast. I had to head out early, but I wanted to make sure you had a warm start to your day. Please make yourself at home, help yourself to anything you need, and here’s some extra keys to the apartment just in case. Sorry to miss saying goodbye this morning. I hope we can catch up later when I'm back - Y/N

Leigh bites her lip, staring down at the note and the keys beside it. It feels so... domestic. Almost too familiar, but too quickly. She can't help but recall the countless times she left similar notes for Matt, scribbled in haste before dashing off to her early morning classes at the Beautiful Beast. Her trips to Danny's apartment never felt quite like this. It had always felt more like a love nest, designed for pleasure, not partnership. It was somewhere to escape to, not a space she could ever see herself belonging in, being her own. But here, with these keys in front of her, it's different. This feels like stepping back into an old pair of shoes that doesn't quite fit the same way anymore.

Leigh hesitates, unsure if this is a good thing. If you are a good thing. With Danny, everything was safe, predictable. He wants her more than she wants him, and in a twisted way, that imbalance has become an assurance. It’s easier, requiring less vulnerability on her part. But with you, the balance feels equal, perhaps even tipping in a way that makes Leigh unsure of where she stands, unsure of her control over the situation.

That terrifies her. And she hasn't felt this scared since Matt left.

As if on cue, a loud ringing blares through the apartment. Leigh blinks, pulled abruptly back to the present, and realizes she has no idea where she left her phone. She scrambles to her feet, her search for the phone turning into a clumsy dance as she trips over herself in the process. After a brief, frantic search that feels longer than it probably is, she traces her steps back to your bedroom. There, beside the bed where she'd woken up, her phone is vibrating against the hardwood floor. The screen lights up with the name “Jules”. Leigh swipes to answer, holding the phone a bit shakily to her ear.

“Danny’s here.”

Shit, shit shit.

“Just get rid of him, Jules. I'll call him later,” Leigh says. 

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then—

“Where are you, anyway?” Jules asks.

Leigh glances around, fiddling with the phone in her hand before answering, “I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Oh,” Jules lets out a low whistle. “Anyone I know?”

Leigh takes a deep breath. “Y/N.”

Jules falls silent, her breath the only sound coming through the phone. Leigh can almost visualize her sister on the other end, puzzling over why Leigh spent the night at your apartment and wondering if something happened between you two. She anticipates the barrage of questions that will greet her when she gets home.

“Leigh, I—” Jules starts to say.

“Don't. I'm leaving soon. Please make sure Danny's not there when I arrive. Please,” Leigh says. 

“Okay,” Jules says simply, and then the line goes dead.

Leigh leaves the keys where you left them and takes your note with her.

-

As the day wears on, your phone remains dishearteningly quiet. You keep checking, hoping for a simple message from Leigh—a thank you for the bed, a comment on the breakfast, or just a note to say she’s left your apartment. But nothing comes through. Each passing hour stretches your patience thinner and makes you question every detail of last night. 

Her lack of reaction leaves you with too much time to think. After the debacle with Sara and the no-show date you met from a dating app, you had felt a surge of disillusionment. So much so that last night, after Leigh left your car and walked into the party, you found yourself uninstalling the dating app from your phone in a moment of clarity. You decide it's time to focus on what feels more real, on what your heart has been screaming all along.

Leigh. 

You want Leigh, and you’re going to go after her. Forget about Danny. You won't let Leigh spend another Halloween alone, or Christmas, or New Year’s. You're resolved to be there for all the important dates—and, if you're lucky, every day in between.

Hey Leigh, just checking in to see how you’re doing. Hope your day was good, you type and hit send. You won’t wait anymore for her to reach out when you can just let her know you’ve been thinking of her. You toss your phone down and rub your hands on your face. Now it’s just a matter of waiting to see if she feels the same.

-

Leigh postpones meeting with Danny until later that evening, having spent the day lounging in bed and replaying the songs you had on in your car the previous night. She received your text, but she hasn’t even opened it yet. It's silly, but she feels that if she starts talking to you, a dam will burst—and she's not ready for that. Instead, she reaches out to Danny, asking him over so they can talk.

When Danny arrives, she doesn't invite him inside. Since Jules and her mom are home, they walk to the front steps and sit side by side, maintaining a slight distance between them.

It’s Danny who breaks the silence first. “Leigh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Look, I just think it's a great opportunity for us—or for me, at least. And since you’re not tied down to the Beautiful Beast anymore, and your writing and part-time job are flexible, I thought... Why not?”

Leigh's expression hardens at the mention of her old job, at Danny's reasoning, and his diligent insistence. She didn’t call him over to rehash the fight they just had yesterday.

“Just because I can work from anywhere doesn't mean I want to leave,” she says. “And if we're going to have the same argument again, then you should just go.”

When Danny told Leigh he had landed a job as a retail associate at a high-end hotel in Vegas, he expected she’d be happy for him. She was, but when he suggested they move there for a fresh start, her response was an unflinching no, leaving him feeling wounded.

“But what's really keeping you here, Leigh? I mean, besides your family. Is there something else?” he asks.

At the question, Leigh feels the past and present colliding. First, she sees Matt's face, always Matt's face—his smile, the comfort of his presence that used to fill her days. Then her mind flickers to the times she found herself passing your clinic after long, aimless drives meant to clear her head. Your face starts to overlap with her memories of Matt, not replacing but somehow intertwining. 

“Matt,” Leigh forces herself to say, forces herself to believe. “If I leave this place, it's like... it's like I'm leaving him for good. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it feels.”

“Matt's been gone for a long time. You think he'd want you to just stop living your life? Waiting for what? For a ghost?” Danny argues, his voice rising just a little. He looks away, down the shadowy street. His hands ball into fists and then relax. Under the weak glow of the streetlamp, it’s as if Matt’s shadow stretches beside him, a long, imposing figure that Danny can never seem to escape.

“Leigh, I’m just trying to help us move forward, that’s all,” he continues, softer, more defeated. Leigh catches the tightness of his expression, the effort it takes him to stay calm. She reaches out, her fingertips lightly touching his knuckles. Danny grabs this small sign of affection, quickly cradling Leigh’s face in his hands and drawing her into a fervent kiss. Leigh doesn’t respond immediately, but then she melts into its familiarity, allowing her lips to be pliable to his. 

Danny breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he searches Leigh's eyes. “Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to leave Matt for good,” he whispers.

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “I-I don't know, Danny—”

“Leigh, I love you.”

It's the first time either of them has said it. Leigh had imagined fireworks or something clicking into place when it happened. She expected the grand declaration to sweep her off her feet, but instead, she finds herself still teetering on the brink, not quite ready to leap. But what she cannot ignore is the sincerity in his words. Danny has loved her through her worst—in his own way. It's not easy to dismiss or reject such devotion.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Danny says quickly. He's afraid of hearing her say no again. Silence would be better; he could let himself believe that maybe she felt the same way. Silence could mean ‘yes’, right? he thinks, grasping at straws.

“Leigh, I’m taking that job, and I’m leaving after Thanksgiving. That gives us about a month,” he says, cradling her face now with both hands pleadingly. “Please, just think about it. Think about coming with me.”

Despite her reservations, Leigh ends up saying, “Okay, I'll think about it.”

Danny’s face breaks into a smile. He kisses her again, a soft, reaffirming kiss that seems to thank her for even considering his request.

The next second, Jules interrupts the moment, opening the door unceremoniously. Leigh throws her a sharp look, which her sister disregards with a shrug. 

“Logan's been barking at the door for some time now, in case you didn't hear,” Jules drawls, cradling a bowl of cereal—her dinner.

At her words, Logan bursts through the opening and makes a beeline for Leigh. He leaps straight into Leigh's lap, settling in with a decisive huff, his eyes darting possessively from Leigh to Danny. It's as if he's laying claim to her, telling Danny without words that Leigh has roots here too deep to simply pull up, saying, she’s mine, you’re not going to take her away from me. 

Leigh pulls Logan closer, thinking about how much you’ll miss him if she decides to go with Danny.

-

You get home from work just after nine, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter with a weary sigh. A quick check of your phone confirms what you'd been dreading all day: Leigh still hasn't read your message from the afternoon. That sinking feeling of disappointment hits you again—harder this time. It’s like a pattern with her: warm and engaging one day, distant and cold the next. You can't deny that this inconsistency is starting to wear on you. It's bordering on cruel.

What are you doing wrong? Why can’t you figure out what makes her switch off like this? 

And then, unable to help it, you send another text.

[9:10 PM] You: Is everything okay?

Dinner is a microwave affair tonight, not that you're really tasting any of it. You sit down to eat, your phone still within sight. That message never gets read either.

-

Leigh has always been unpredictable, but she has never actively avoided you like this before. She knows what she's doing, leaving your messages unread for the past three days. Just when you declare to the universe that you'd pursue her, she shuts you out completely. You can't even feel sorry for yourself; somehow, you brought this on, right?

When the day rolls around for Logan's next vaccine appointment, you catch yourself nervously checking the time more often than usual. But when the appointment time comes, a different Shaw brings him in. Jules holds onto Logan's leash as he excitedly sniffs every corner of the waiting room, his tail wagging a mile a minute. 

“Hey,” Jules greets you, a bit out of breath from handling Logan's forceful tugs. “Leigh had some things to take care of, so I'm on Logan duty today.”

“Of course, no problem at all. How’s he been?” You try to keep your tone light as you kneel down to give Logan some attention, scratching behind his ears the way you know he likes.

“He’s been great, a real bundle of energy,” Jules replies, watching you with Logan. She hesitates before adding, “And Leigh’s been... well, you know Leigh.”

Actually, you think, you don't know Leigh—not as well as you thought. “Yeah,” you respond, looking up at Jules with a forced smile. “I know.”

After you administer the vaccine, the appointment passes with small talk, mostly about Logan’s antics and not much else. Jules is friendly but doesn’t venture into whatever might be happening with Leigh.

Just as you’re seeing Jules off, the clinic door swings open again. And you’re completely unprepared for the person who steps in.

“Hi,” Sara smiles at you, and then lifts the kitten in her hands. “Think you can help me with her, doctor?”

In a moment of unpreparedness, you cough awkwardly to cover your reaction, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “Hi, Sara,” you say, a bit flustered as you usher her inside. “What do we have here?”

“It's a rescue. Found her all alone by the roadside,” Sara explains, handing the tiny kitten to you with a concerned frown.

Jules catches the interaction, her eyes narrowing slightly—not missing how your entire demeanor changes around Sara—who is undeniably beautiful. 

“Right this way,” you tell the blonde, leading her to the examination table. “Let's see what we can do for her.”

As soon as you and Sara are out of earshot, Suzie muses aloud, “They'd make a lovely pair, don't you think? If only Y/N wasn't so hung up on a widow…”

Jules stiffens slightly, her voice cool as she says, “And you are?”

“Suzie,” Suzie responds cheerfully, extending a hand to Jules with a bright smile. “Y/N’s assistant and friend. Nice to meet you.”

Jules shakes her hand, her smile polite but reserved. “Jules,” she responds tersely, omitting her connection as Leigh's sister. “So, what about Sara and Y/N?”

Well, Suzie can’t resist a juicy bit of gossip now, can she?

-

You don't usually pour yourself a glass of wine on a weeknight, but after today, you've cracked open a bottle that's been gathering dust for a year. Sara’s surprise visit at the clinic left you rattled. She had called you out for being distant after the two of you ran into Leigh one morning, and it embarrassed you how right she was. You hadn't been upfront about your emotional availability—or lack thereof—because of your feelings for Leigh.

When you finally admitted to Sara that you were in love with someone else, you braced for a fallout. But instead, Sara laughed, a light, carefree sound that took you by surprise. “I don't mind if you're emotionally unavailable,” she had said with a shrug. “I'm just looking for something casual.”

For a split second, her proposition—friends with benefits—was like candy being dangled in front of you: appetizing and readily available. But that conversation was at work, in the middle of your clinic, and the timing felt all sorts of wrong. 

You let the moment pass without responding, and Sara backtracked a little with a noncommittal, “Well, you have my number. I really like you, Y/N. We can be friends, and if you ever need to…unwind, well, I can be your best friend.”

You're midway through your glass of wine when you decide to check your phone again, automatically opening the chat window with Leigh. It's almost become a habit, expecting your messages to remain unread. But this time, Leigh's avatar is right there under the last text you sent. She's read them. Today. 

Why now?

Before you can dedicate the rest of your evening into that question, a knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. It's late, and you don’t remember ordering food delivery. You set your glass down and head over to see who it is. 

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by a downcast brunette. She looks nervous, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.

“Leigh?”

“Hi,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet yours, searching your face for a reaction. As confused as you are, your heart kicks up a notch simply because she’s there, so close you could reach out and touch her. For a moment, you wonder if you're dreaming, if the alcohol is taking effect and conjuring up your desires right before you.

You notice the slight tremor in her hands, the way she’s standing—a bit too rigid, like she’s bracing for something tough.

Clearing your throat, you start to ask, “Would you like to come—”

“Is she here?” Leigh interrupts abruptly.

You blink in surprise.

“Who?”

“Sara,” Leigh replies, her chin jutting forward. She attempts to peer past you, as if she might find the answer somewhere inside your apartment. 

“No, she's not,” you say slowly, puzzled and a bit annoyed by her tone. “Why would she be?” 

You can't hide your surprise at her directness, or the discomfort it stirs in you. It's a bit ridiculous, even rude, how Leigh has been avoiding you, leaving your messages unread, and now she's here, asking you about another girl without a preamble. Leigh doesn't wait for an invitation; she brushes past you and steps further into your apartment, her eyes searching every corner of the room.

“I thought you said it didn't work out with Sara,” she says, almost accusingly, turning to face you again. The way she's acting—like she has any right to demand answers about your personal life after days of silence—is starting to grate on your nerves. 

You press your lips together, taking a deep breath to quell your rising irritation.

“It didn’t. She brought a kitten to the clinic today, that’s all. We're not seeing each other, Leigh,” you tell her. Although she did tell me she’s interested in sleeping with me, you nearly say aloud.

Leigh’s mouth twists into a sneer. “Then why did Jules…” she trails off, her expression falling as it finally clicks.

Jules lied to her.

“Jules…?” you echo incredulously. “What did she tell you?”

Leigh's confidence wavers even further as she says, “She... she said she met Sara at your clinic. Called her your girlfriend.”

You shake your head, exasperation seeping through your features. “Sara is not my girlfriend,” you repeat firmly. The situation is quickly becoming absurd, and you decide to push a bit, to get to the heart of what's really bothering her. “But what does it matter to you if she was?”

“It doesn’t,” Leigh replies in a flat, unconvincing tone.

“Then what are you doing here?” you ask gently, as if addressing a child mid-tantrum. 

Leigh doesn't answer right away, her cheeks glowing red as she looks anywhere but you. She's clearly embarrassed by the entire ordeal, and you find yourself struggling not to smile at the implications of her visit. She's bothered by the idea of you with Sara because—

“Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you once more.

“No, I... maybe. I don't know,” she stammers, then sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping as she finally meets your gaze. “Yes, I guess I am. I don't like thinking of you with someone else. Is that answer enough?”

As you take another step forward, Leigh instinctively moves back, and this dance continues until she finds herself against a wall. You're close now, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her. Her back is pressed against the concrete, your body just inches from hers, effectively trapping her in the corner. 

Leigh doesn’t know at which point she’s closed her eyes. Was it when she felt your breath whisper across her upper lip as you sighed, clearly as affected by the proximity as she was? Or was it when her back met the cool wall, the hard reality telling her she had nowhere else to go? Perhaps it was simply the anticipation, the tightening expectation of your lips meeting hers, the thought of surrendering to this—whatever this is becoming between you.

But then, two seconds pass. Five. Ten. Nothing happens.

The anticipated kiss doesn’t come. 

When she finally opens her eyes, the question in yours is unmistakable. You’re near enough, she could just lean in, but you’re giving her a choice, asking without words if this is what she wants. And that’s when she remembers how she ended up at your doorstep. Leigh's mind reels, darting back to Jules' little lie. She's struck by the realization that Jules probably felt compelled to lie because Leigh had been inadvertently pushing you away, leaving a door open for someone else to step in. And if she keeps this up, it might be Sara who ends up here, against your wall, in your arms. The image stabs at her heart, jealousy tightening her chest.

No, she can’t let that happen.

Summoning a courage she didn’t know she had left, Leigh reaches out and gently takes your hand. She brings it to her face, pressing her lips against your palm in a kiss so tender it steals your breath. It’s a silent plea. A tender claim.

It's just a small kiss, simple and soft, but it rushes through you like wildfire, stirring feelings deeper and more intense than any long, drawn-out foreplay ever did. You realize just how much you've been holding back, shielding yourself from potential pain. But now, as Leigh's kiss sears into your palm, all those defenses seem pointless. With a fervor driven by weeks of restrainment, you close the distance entirely. 

Your kiss lands on Leigh's lips with everything you have, as if this moment, this single kiss, might be your only chance. Yet, even in your urgency, there's a tenderness, a reverence in the way your lips carefully slot between hers. As you kiss, there's a meticulous attention to the details—the softness of her lips, the way they fit perfectly against yours, the gentle give when you press a little harder. It’s as if you’re trying to memorize her through this kiss.

Leigh matches your ardor, her fingers weaving into your hair, tugging you closer as if she can't get enough. You react instinctively, your hands sliding from her hips to her waist, lifting her shirt just enough to feel her skin beneath your fingertips. The slight pressure of your nails makes Leigh gasp, a sound that breaks the seal of your lips just enough for you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past her defenses. The act draws a guttural moan from her—a sound that vibrates through your core, sending ripples of desire pulsating through your body. 

It shouldn’t be this perfect the first time, but it is.

The kiss grows wetter, more urgent. It's selfish, a relentless chase of sensation where both of you are simultaneously taking and giving everything you have, until it feels like there's nothing left to offer. While Leigh’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth, her hands find their way to either side of your neck, fingertips lightly grazing your skin, sending tingles straight down your spine. Your own hands aren't idle. They roam up her back, feeling the smooth expanse of her skin under your fingertips. As you slide your hands upward, you discover something that emits a low groan from you—she’s not wearing a bra. A part of you, the rational part that's still functioning, slowly begins to recognize the gravity of what’s unfolding. It's too easy to get lost in Leigh, in the rush and the heat, but something stops you. You want this—more than anything in the moment—but it has to mean something. Because once you cross this line with Leigh, there's no going back to the uninhibited, distant longing you've managed until now. 

Just as the thought crystallizes, Leigh breaks the kiss with a wet pop. Her eyes flutter open, slowly, lazily. Her gaze is unfocused at first, pupils dilated, the vibrant green of her irises almost swallowed by the black. Oh, she definitely wants you too.

“Why did you stop?” you murmur, your voice unmistakably laden with desire as you rest your forehead against hers.

A grin tugs at Leigh’s lips as replies softly, “I just wanted to see you.”

Your smile widens as her fingers absentmindedly play with the little hairs at the nape of your neck. She seems mesmerized by your eyes, now darkened with lust, and without thinking, she blurts out, “You really do have espresso eyes.”

Her words make you freeze in her arms. That nickname—it's the same one you use anonymously for your submissions to your favorite advice column. Maybe it's just a coincidence, right? 

But Leigh's reaction a moment later suggests otherwise. Her face blanches, eyes widening in a sudden flare of panic as she realizes what she's just said. 

“Y/N—” Leigh starts but you cut her off by stepping out of her embrace, your stance becoming guarded.

The warmth vanishes from your eyes. “What did you just say?”

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 11 (Final)

Warnings/Summary: Mentions of Hospital | Coma/Medical staff | Pregnancy/Giving Birth/ Fights/Guns | Rafe and Armando 🫢| Reader reunites with Armando with an unexpected bundle of joy😉(Mike and Marcus being proud GRANDPARENTS 😁)

Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This is the last part for this series hope you Enjoy!💕💕💕💕

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“....……I need you to wake up mi amor.... please........Y/N WAKE UP!” Armando shouts.

Frowning you attempt to shift against your bed at the sound of Armandos voice, but something was weighing you down. Opening your eyes felt like the hardest thing in the world but eventually, you were able to slowly force them open, but the only thing you could see was blurry colors. 

Blinking a few times your vision cleared as you move your gaze around the room and to the constant beeping noise making you realize you're in a hospital. At the moment, the room was empty but you could see a whole bunch of balloons and flowers, sitting on a counter. Leaving you even more confused as you look for Armando, but pausing when you feel something shift against your stomach. 

Glancing down you see a black furry cat laying against your stomach, tilting your head you reached a hand down to poke it; causing it to purr as it bumps its head against your hand. 

“M-Midnight?” you croak out voice hoarse from not using it but the cat seemed to perk up from hearing its name. 

Pulling the cat up to lay on your chest, left you concerned when you still feel like you're being weighed down. Using the bed bar to pull yourself up, you glanced at the blanket on you wondering if it’s one of those heavy ones. 

After pushing it off of you, you felt no relief which made you whine, but once your eye landed on your stomach you screamed. Moving as fast as you could to get out of the bed, Midnight jumps off of your chest as you stand on weak wobblily legs. Ivs and monitors harshly rip off of you, and crash on the floor along with your frail body after taking a step. 

Hearing the alarms go off in your room made Marcus and Theresa drop their coffees, dashing straight towards your room, that was now surrounded by medical staff. 

Crying you push at your swollen stomach with fear, as you feel something press back at your hand. Seeing your colleagues try to comfort you only made you more frighten because at the moment you don’t really know why your here and being surrounded by all these people with no Armando only made your heart beat faster with fear. 

“Y/N! Baby it’s okay don’t be scared I got you.” Marcus says pushing through the crowd as he squats down next to your weak form, trying to calm you down so you wouldn’t mess up your recovery process.  

“What happened? Where's Mando? Why am I in a hospital?” you whimpered as Marcus picks you up to place you back on the bed. 

Pausing to look at Theresa who frowns she makes her way over to you, while tucking your hair behind your ear, “Y/N baby we’ll tell you everything after a while but I need you to relax for momma, okay” 

Groaning when your head begins to throb made you place your face in your hands, but feeling another shift inside your stomach had you jumping. 

“Why the fuck I keep feeling something move inside of me...is it an alien?” you shrieked peering at your swollen belly that is covered by the hospital gown. 

Laughing at your delirious state Marcus shakes his head, "Even worse......a Lowrey baby! I kept telling Theresa I wasn’t having those fish dreams for no reason but she didn’t believe me until I finally convinced her to get the doctor to do an ultrasound.” 

Pausing he grabs your hand excitedly while gazing up at you with a smile, "My Baby having A Baby!” 

 Blinking at him a few times your vision begins to fade to black, as you fall back against the bed. “Dammit Marcus! I told you we needed to wait; she just woke up from a 6-month coma!” Theresa says angrily as the medical staff quickly begins to perform procedures. 

The news that your father hit you with after just waking up from a medical induced coma, did not sit with you well, and the next day when you woke up you question your friend who just so happen to be your doctor to talk about it. 

“Y/N I know this pregnancy caught you by surprised trust me it surprised us as well; we weren’t expecting you to be pregnant." He said glancing at your vitals, and medical charts," But when you kept rejecting the medication we were giving you for your recovery and with your father's persistence we decided to do an ultrasound.” 

Stopping he glanced back up at you with concern, “Y/N as a friend and your doctor...... you and that child that your carrying is a miracle......on the way to the hospital I was told that you flat lined in the ambulance and when you were in surgery you died 3 times on the table.” 

Shocked you glanced down at yourself, hesitantly placing a hand on your stomach, and smiling slightly when you feel a kick against your hand.  

“This pregnancy is going to be rough since you're still recovering but I believe that the little of bundle of joy, you have inside you will encourage you to keep fighting.” He said passing you ultrasound pictures from each month before walking out the door to give you privacy. 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

 Upon hearing that your awake everyone made their rounds to visit you starting with your sister, nephew, Reggie and your new niece who you absolutely adored. Then Kelly and Dorn who pulled you into a big group hug, talking about how there excited to be godparents, which made you roll your eyes but smile.  

Also, Dorn who was showing off his healed bullet wound talking about, "This my dope ass battle scar...and new excuse to see my therapist more, to which you're still going to by the way." causing you and Kells to side eye him like he was crazy. 

Next was Rita who brought you an adorable get well soon bear, while telling you about her new man, which made you raise your eyebrow but she assured you he had no dirty on him. After talking with you for a while she was called back to the precinct but before she left, she pulled you into a tight hug saying get well soon and congratulations. 

Hearing a knock at the door woke you up out of your sleep, but when you look up you see Mike and Christine walking in with flowers and big smiles on their faces, "What are y’all doing here?” you yawn while leaning up to give Christine a hug then doing the same with Mike. 

“Girl stops acting surprised you knew the moment I received that call from your daddy he wouldn’t had stop until I came up here.” Mike says moving back to set the flowers on the bedside table and to get a good look at you. 

Chuckling you say I know, while watching their eyes move to your stomach, "Looks like you are going to be a grandparent after all.” you giggled as Mike rolls his eyes. 

“I’m too young to be a grandpa and don’t remind me your Daddy already talking about that I need to trade my car in for something more baby proof.” Mike stated, crossing his arms as he makes a face about giving away his Porsche. 

“And work on your driving skills.” Christine mutters making you laugh harder as Mike turns to her offended. 

” I am an excellent driver thank you very much!” he objected watching as you and Christine glance at each other before laughing. 

“The fuck y’all ‘he he heing’ for ain’t nobody said anything funny." Mike grumbles as he walks away towards the door, when he hears knocking but starts grumbling more once he sees who it was. 

“Fix that negative energy it ain’t good for the baby!" Marcus says walking over to you as Theresa rolls her eyes at her husband behavior, while actually stopping to greet Mike. 

“THERE GOES MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL! How you feeling baby girl!” Marcus exclaims loudly while reaching over to bring you into a tight hug, and then pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Now your loud ass is what’s not good for the baby!” Mike protested, walking back to the bed, as Marcus shifted his attention to Mike, making you and your mom share a knowing look before she pulls you into a tight hug. 

Watching as they began to bicker over what’s good for the baby you see Christine leans towards you and your mom while saying imagine when the baby gets here, causing you three to burst out laughing. 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

After doing multiple rounds of therapy, and going through many tests for you and the baby. The Doctor finally decided to discharge you after being in the hospital two more months, making you now 8 months pregnant. But not without 24-hour supervision which made you groan already knowing that everyone was going to be a pain in your ass. 

Flinching slightly at the small pinching sensation in your shoulder, made you sigh as you continue to slip on your dress. Belly now too big for regular clothes, and with you still healing it was just easier to wear dresses. 

Hearing knocks you watch as your parents walk in your room with a nurse following in with a wheelchair, making you shake your head, "That want be needed.” you said slipping into your crocs, and standing up. 

But after taking a couple steps towards your parents, your already out of breath, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on your back had your mom laughing as she takes the wheelchair from the nurse. 

“Baby I already know.” Theresa says helping her daughter sit in the wheelchair, and laughing more when she hears you release a sigh of relief. 

“I’m still not getting used to this whole pregnancy thing.” you sighed watching them gather your get-well gifts and personal belongings. Passing you a few things to hold, Marcus gazes around the room to make sure that was everything before turning towards you.  

“I know Y/N/N but look at it on the brightside you’ll be meeting and holding your baby in a month!” your dad beamed, giving you a few things before wheeling you out the room, Theresa walking beside him humming in agreement. 

“Yay!” you mumble sarcastically but in all honest you were really excited to see the baby, especially after deciding to wait until you give birth to figure out the gender. 

As you enter the elevator you begin texting in the sibling group chat laughing at something dumb, they sent “Y/N/N what are you looking at?” Theresa said gazing at your phone, making you place it on your chest muttering nosey. 

“Probably Jr saying some stupid shit...I swear that boy be around your side of the family too much.” Marcus says pushing you out the elevator once you guys reach the entrance to the hospital. Rolling her eyes Theresa moves past him to set the things in the SUV, before smacking the back of his head.  

“I see now where you get that hitting from.” Marcus whined as he rubs the sore spot on his head before locking the wheelchair in place. 

Groaning as you stand up thankfully with the help of your mom, you roll your eyes at your father's comment while using your good arm to slide yourself slowly into the back seat. “Y/N stop rolling your eyes before they get stuck like that!” your mom said closing your door and moving to the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, you better or that baby gonna come out cocked eyed!” Marcus joked, closing the driver door while laughing but immediately stopping as he sees you and Theresa give him the same glare.  

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Upon entering your parents' house, your eyes shifted around the foyer wondering why it was so dark in their home, "Hey did y’all forget to pay the light bill?” you questioned as you search along the wall for the light switch. 

Finding it you flick it on but instantly jump when you hear multiple shouts of surprise from your family and friends standing at the entrance. Shocked you gaze around the room feeling tears fill your eyes as you see the welcome home signs/slash baby shower decor. 

Opening your mouth to speak only made you burst out in tears as you really take in this sweet moment. Seeing this had everyone concerned until your mom spoke up, "She's okay guys...she’s just overwhelmed. Kelly gone ahead and help her to the living room!” 

Taking Kelly hand, you smile at her as you wobbled over to the recliner with her help, "Girl, you should’ve given me a heads up or something!” you sniffed, voice wobbling as you ease onto the recliner, making midnight jump onto the armrest. 

Shaking her head she glances around before saying, "And face the wrath of two Grandzillas I don’t think so we’ve been walking around egg shells around those two!” 

“Grandzillas! They ain’t been that ba-” hearing multiple voices cut you off with disagreements, had you raising your brows in disbelief. 

“It’s been so bad around those two that we can’t even mention baby befo-” as Dorn attempts to explain the drama, they’ve been facing Marcus cuts in. 

“Baby!?! Y’all talking about how it’s going to be a girl!” Marcus exclaims happily but Mike shouts in disagreement, “NOPE! We already talked about this, It’s definitely a boy!” 

Already feeling a headache coming you glance at Kelly and Dorn with understand as you hear the two start arguing. The day continues with you opening gifts and playing some games before you grew tired, making you step away to take a nap as everyone continues to party. 

Hearing Mike call out your name had you stopping in front of your bedroom door, watching him walk towards you with an envelope. “I mean’t to give this to you at the hospital but I felt like it was the wrong time.” he said passing the sealed paper to you. 

Lost you asked him what it was, causing him to give you a sad smile, "Before Armando left, he told me to give this to you.” 

“Armando?... Have you heard anything from him?” you asked already knowing the answer but choosing to see if Mike will say something different. Peering at you he sees the hopeful look in your eyes, making his own shift away from yours, "I haven’t heard anything from him since the mission, we gave him a burner phone but it’s been nothing but radio silence these last 8 months.” 

Frowning you glance at the envelope, smacking it lightly against your hand before sighing, "Thanks for this Mike...I’ve been wondering about him ever since I woke up. Do you have a burner...I want to...” pausing you clear your throat as you feel it tightening up from suppressing your tears. Nodding his head in understand he pulls a phone from his back pocket, "I keep one on me just in case he decides to ever call...If he picks up, please let me know.”  

Taking the phone from him you whisper a thank you and I will, as you stand there a few moments before pulling him into a tight hug. Sobbing into his shoulder Mike holds you as close as he could without putting too much pressure on your belly. 

Moving from the embrace you wipe at your eyes, “T-thanks Unc Mike.” you say giving him a nod before entering your room. 

Wiping tears of his own Mike, decides to make a brief stop to the restroom before returning to the others, not wanting them to see the change in his mood. 

Locking the door, you wobble over to your bed, and sit down while quickly ripping the envelope open. Pulling out the letter your gaze immediately land on the dried blood, making your eyes water as you wipe them to read his letter. 

Dear Y/N, 

If you're reading this Mi Amor that means Mike finally did one important thing for me as my father. I didn’t get the chance to fully explain to you how much I truly do love you, since we only had a limited time together in person. But during that time together you taught me how to love and protect someone other than myself. You showed me that it was okay to allow my emotions to showcase their true feelings without immediately putting up my defenses. Thank you for allowing me back into your heart, and showing me how to forgive and be forgiven; especially after my fuck up in Dorns kitchen. If I haven’t made it back to you yet whenever you read this just know I’m still fighting those odds, and I’ll be with you soon beautiful.  

Also, if Marcus was correct about you being pregnant see it as me giving you someone to comfort you until I return and tell them that there responsible of you until I come back. 

Your ONLY LOVE Mando  

Feeling yourself shake as tears run down your face had you sobbing into your hand as you hug the letter against your chest. Knowing that Armando took his time to write you a short letter; had your pregnant emotions running haywire, you noticed with him it was the little things that always leave your heart aching for more. 

Calming down you peer at the burner phone, immediately opening the contacts to see only one number making you pressing it quickly. Putting the phone on speaker you wait anxiously as it rings, and rub your belly as you feel a kick. 

The phone going straight to voicemail left you sad but you decided to leave a message just in case, "Mando it’s me Y/n... I-I just read your l-letter...a-and I *sobs slightly* I just wanted to say that-t I’ll be waiting for y-you...... Also, my dad was right...there was a bun baking in the oven, and it almost done...*laughs lightly*.  

Thank you for the parting gift by the way......... Mike and my dad are taking good care of me so don’t worry.....Mikes been worried about you tho..... I'll stop here before I start crying again, these pregnancy hormones are a bitch.... *sobs*.... if you get this, I’ll be giving birth sometime next month at the hospital I work at, I don’t know the gender yet so hopefully we can find out together...... I Love you, stay s-safe!” you said tone wavering as you send the voice message and end the call. 

Glancing down you watch as the phone begin to shake from your trembling hands, causing it to fall to the floor. Everything becomes a blur as you move to lay down while placing a protective hand on your stomach, which in return made the baby shift. 

“Don’t worry mommas alright.... just thinking about daddy.” you whisper as you feel the baby push against your belly, making you rub against the spot as you close your eyes. /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Marcus holds open the door as you wobble your big 9-month self into the convenient store with determination. “Y/N/N why didn’t you stay in the car with Mike, I could’ve gotten your snacks you need to rest before the maternity shoot!" he says walking in himself while grabbing two ginger ales and skittles, before falling you towards the register. 

“You ate my candy last time before you even reached the car, then gone have the nerve to say you were tasting it for the baby!" You stated knowing for a fact that he’s been using your pregnancy craving as an excuse to eat junk food again.  

Asking the cashier for the candy behind him you hear your dad gasp loudly, “Y/N I know that’s not Tropical Fruit Bubbleicious!” 

“I’m sorry it’s the only candy I’ve been craving the last few weeks and skittles ain’t been cutting it lately.” you explained immediately opening the candy and letting out a satisfied moan when its sweet flavors hit your tongue. 

Smacking on the candy you hear your dad excitedly asks if you want a big pickle, turning you both stare at each other before grinning hard, "Make it two!” you blurted out while watching him set 4 onto the counter but not questioning it since you know he practically eat the same snacks you do. 

Standing at the register as you two continue your big back activities, y’all failed to noticed the man pulling out his gun behind y'all, "I heard them boys taste good with fruit roll-ups wrapped around them!”  

He added as he throws the candy on the counter with the rest of the snacks but as he reached a hand back for his wallet a gun enters his peripheral vision. 

“Open the fucking register! Now!” the man snapped at the cashier making them freeze in place along with you and your dad. 

“Why y’all ass always getting robbed! Y'all aint got no security yet!” Marcus commented as he glances at the cashier who just shrugs muttering, he don’t get paid enough for this. 

Dropping the candy from your hand, you lean against the counter while feeling a brief moment of pain before something wet run down your legs, “Oh shit!” 

Eyes widening in realization Marcus move over to support your weight while gazing back up at the thief,” Dammit boy you done caused her to go into labor......Fuck Mike finna be pissed!” 

Before the man can even question your father's statement he hears the entrance bell ring, making him move his attention and aim at the door. 

Stepping in talking loudly, Mike immediately pauses face becoming frustrated at the sight before him, "I told y’all five minutes now we late for the surp-, Marcus what’s all that shit on the register! Thought y’all ass said ginger ale only!” 

“Is that really what your focused on right now Mike! The damn snacks!” Marcus exclaims as he hears you taking in deep breaths. 

Watching as the two men began to bicker had the thief shift his gun between them anxiously but hearing your scream dragged his attention back to you. 

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!” you yelled gripping the counter tighter, as you start feeling contractions. 

Quickly pulling out his gun Mike shoots the thief in the leg, while telling the cashier to call 911, making them yell aren’t y’all the police.   

Putting his gun back in his holster and kicking the gun away from the screaming thief, Mike wraps an arm around your waist while him and Marcus help you back to the car but hearing you say stop makes them freeze, "GRAB THE SNACKS THEY NOT GONNA LET ME EAT WHEN I GET IN THERE!” 

“Your right!” Marcus exclaim quickly throwing a 20 on the counter while scooping the treats up with his arms. 

Rolling his eyes, Mike keeps a tight arm around your waist while walking towards the entrance, "This baby finna pop out and y’all worried about food!” 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Upon entering the hospital, you see everyone and the photographer who was supposed to take your maternity pictures chilling in the waiting room. Confused your about to question Mike but another contraction had you clutching your stomach in pain, grabbing the attention of a few nurses who immediately takes you to a room. 

Afte changing into a birthing gown and receiving epidural, you lay against the delivery bed; while angrily chewing on your cup of ice, Mike had snitched on you and your father making your mother take away all the snacks. 

“I understand taking his away but why mines!” you snapped shaking your cup hard while you wait for an explanation. “Yeah, why can’t we eat in peace Theresa; you know we’re stress eaters!” Marcus adds. 

Pointing an accusing finger at Marcus, she ignores him while directing her attention towards you, “Y/N/N all that junk food ain’t good so I brought you some okra water instead!” Theresa replied, pouring you a cup and placing it in your hands while taking your ice away. 

Gagging at the slimey texture, you shake your head frantically as you force the cup back in her hands, "I ain’t drinking that shit!” 

Shifting away from them you began mumbling to yourself, quietly cursing everyone out, but feeling a strong contraction hit you, had you grasping the railing.  

“Are you oka-” before anyone can get the words out you cut them off. 

“I’M FINE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” you growled, feeling yourself sweat while the pain wears off but the uncomfortable pressure remains. 

Hearing a camera click had you snapping your head in the direction of the sound, making the photographer flinch as she freezes at your fearsome gaze. 

Not wanting to risk any chances of not getting his deposit back, Mike steps in quickly before you could do or say something stupid, during your angry labor pain episode, "We got a surprise for you!” 

Removing your pain-stricken eyes off the frighten photographer you briefly glance at Mike, shifting your tense frame to face away from them and towards the white walls as you mutter, "It better be my damn snacks!” 

Ignoring the sound of the room door opening and closing; you hear approaching footsteps. Keeping your eyes forward, your mind runs a mile a minute, as your cravings for food grow stronger. 

“You called for a snack, princess.” a familiar accented voice says. Freezing you feel your eyes began to water up as you keep your gaze ahead to scared to look back. 

“I waited months to see your pretty face again sweetheart.......please turn around for me.” you hear them beg as you feel a big warm hand caress your swollen hips. 

Shaking your head you close your eyes, feeling a dip in the bed as the hand travels towards your protruding belly. 

“I received your voicemail baby.......after hearing your scream torment my mind for 8 torturous months I was finally able to hear your angelic voice again.” they say making you bite your lip as you feel tears rundown your face. 

Rough but soft warm hands embrace yours as they shift your tense form, towards them, “Please let me see those beautiful eyes, mi amor.” 

Blinking away the cloudy tears, your gaze fall onto Armandos smiling bearded face, as he moves a hand up to wipe your tears away, “There's my pretty girl.” 

Launching forward you bring him into a tight hug, sobbing into his neck as he tightens his hold on you, while letting out quiet sniffs.  

“I got you baby.... I got you.” he comforted, pressing hard kisses against your head, while slipping a hand between the back of your open gown to rub soothing circles onto your warm brown skin. 

Pulling back, you stare up at him taking in his changed appearance as you watch him do the same with you, "I-we missed you.” you whispered watching his moist eyes shift down towards your belly with a smile. 

Placing a hand on your stomach he rubs his thumb against it, moving his teared fill eyes up to yours before pulling you into a passionate kiss. 

Setting a hand into his fluffy out grown hair you press your lips against his harder, as he swipes his tongue over yours before separating your lips causing a wet popping noise to be made. 

Seeing a single tear fall from his eye made you press a soft kiss on his cheek as he sucks in a breath from your comforting touch, "I missed y’all too.... more than you’ll ever know.” 

Moving his hand towards your face he pushes your thick hair behind you ears before placing it on your flushed brown cheeks, "Always said these words in my native tongue during our time together but never to your face......I fell in love with you the moment I made eye contact with those tear-filled eyes,2 years and 9 months ago......and now as I’m able to stare into those same moist eyes all over again......I want you to know that I truly love you Y/N.” 

Swiping away the tears that fall he watches you smile brightly at him before saying love you too, Mando. Letting out a content hum, he briefly gazes around the room, noticing everyone left to give you two a private moment. 

Bringing his attention back to you, he noticed the frown on your face as you shift your hips, "What's wrong mi amor!” 

“It’s time!” you said feeling a strong pushing sensation come from between your legs, causing you to squeeze Armando’s hand tightly. Before you could tell him to get the other’s you feel heavy weight fall on top of you making you snap out of your painful moment to gaze down at him. 

“Armando?” you questioned going to give his shoulder a pinch, only to stop once you realized what happened......this fool done passed out. 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Once Armando was woken up by the help of Mike and slipped into a sanitary cover up, you endured 6 agonizing hours of labor filled with screams and I can’t do it’s with Armando’s assertive tone whispering into your ear you can, while supporting your pushing form. 

One last hard push brings your beautiful 8 pound crying boy into the world......huh, no wonder you were craving Tropical Fruit Bubbleicious. 

Hearing your friends/family congratulate you while the doctor places your crying son against your exhausted form, had you bawling as you hold your baby against your beating heart. Kissing your forehead, Armando presses his hand lightly against his son's tiny back as tears of his on trails down his olive tan cheeks, while thanking you. 

After cutting the umbilical cord, he follows the nurse out the room as she leaves with the infant, he'll be damned if he let his eyes leave his son for even a millisecond, fugitive or not he doesn’t give a fuck about who sees him. He seen to many things growing up involving the cartel harming the innocent for no reason, even babies as small as his son. 

Following behind Armando, everyone walks out the room except Theresa and Marcus, who decides to stay behind to check up on their baby, while holding  your hand as the nurses clean you up. "You did good Y/N/N.” you hear your father say as he pressed a kiss on top of your head before leaving Theresa with you to go check on the baby. 

A few hours later and with the help of Marcus, Armando sits in the recliner by the bed as he holds his son against his bare chest. Whispering a few things in Spanish he leans his head down to press a soft kiss, onto his son chubby cheeks making the infant squinch his face before relaxing. 

Hearing everyone let out a noise of admiration he turns his gaze towards Mike, who stands beside him with a proud expression. 

“Damn that Lowrey DNA really is a bitch; our genes didn’t even try." Marcus says peering at the baby as well, making Armando laugh but quieting down when he feels the infant move before relaxing. 

“Do you wanna hold him?” Armando asks his father after seeing his eyes shift between him and the infant.  

“I don’t know....” Mike commented, fear keeping him standing in the same spot. Seeing this Marcus supports his friend by moving him forward, while making him sit down beside Armando. 

Carefully placing the child into Marcus hands, Armando watches him stare down at the baby lovingly, while instructing Mike to fold his arms against his chest. 

With the help of Theresa, Marcus places the child into Mikes awaiting arms, making the man suck in a breath while keeping his unsure eyes on the sleeping baby. 

“I want him to have a last name that holds a good meaning behind it.... not bad.” Armando mutters, watching his father eyes water while gazing down softly at his new grandson in his arms. 

Releasing a breath of surprise Mike look towards Armando with a hesitant smile, "You sure.” Giving him a firm nod, he watches Mike smile brighten as he pulls him into a side hug, still being mindful of the baby in his arms. 

Moving away from the embrace he allows his father to have a moment with his grandbaby, while walking over to your resting form. Leaning forward he presses a sweet kiss against your forehead, keeping his eyes on your sleeping face before turning away at the sound of a knock.  

“The fuck are you doing here!” Dorn growls, tall muscular form blocking the view of the person away from everyone else.“Calm down beanstalk, I didn’t come to start any mess, I just wanted to speak with Y/N.” the person replied with annoyance. 

Frowning he walks away from your resting figure and towards the door, "Who is it?” he asked Dorn making the blonde hair man shift his attention to him with worry, while raising up his hands with caution. 

Hearing the voice call for you had him tilting his head to the side but frowning when he sees who it is. Before anyone could stop him Armando shoves Dorn to the side launching at Rafe, who wasn’t expecting the attack. 

Ignoring the calls of his name, he scowls at the man throwing quick punches while keeping a tight grip on his collar, “Maldito bastardo, ¿cómo te atreves a aparecer aquí?(You damn bastard, how dare you show up here?)” 

Before he could throw another punch, he feels multiple hands dragging him away from the man, body filled with pure fury, Armando attempts to pull away from the hands dragging him back. 

” Why the fuck is he here? I thought his ass was locked up!?!” Rafe snarled, slouching against the wall while wiping away the blood from his bleeding nose, before walking towards the room pissed. 

Pulling him back into the hospital room, Mike keeps Armando away from the door as the squad quickly drags Rafe towards the small waiting room and away from Armando furious eyes. 

Shooting awake you watch alarmed by the sudden commotion, franticly searching the room for your baby and before you could start panicking Christine walks over to give you your startled baby. 

 Hearing the cries of his son made him move away from Mike, quickly walking over to you with stressed eyes, "Mando, what's going on?” you questioned as Armando runs his hand through his hair, while shifting his conflicted gaze between yours and the baby who cries has settled down. 

Grabbing his hand you stare at his bruising knuckles concerned, "Don't worry about that, princess.” he states pressing a kiss on your hand before looking up at your concerned expression. 

Sighing he rubs at his frustrated face before muttering a name that leaves you shocked, "Rafe!?!......Why is he here?” you say rocking the cooing baby on your chest. 

“Didn’t give him a chance to speak.” Armando whispered keeping his eyes on the infant, and missing the way you stare at him with admiration.  

“If it wasn’t for little man and the fact that I just gave birth, you definitely would’ve gotten some." you say smirking when you see Armando raise his eyebrows at your words. 

Moving forward he gives you a kiss on the lips before pulling back with a smirk of his on, “I’ll just take your kisses for now.” 

Glancing back at the door, his jaw flexed as his grip on the bed rail tightens, making you place your hand on top of his, "Baby, look at me….what did you want to name him? 

Returning his gaze back to yours, his angry features relaxed at your words, mind now focused on thinking of a name.Rubbing his knuckles with your thumb you wait for his response, peering down at the infant who is snuggled against your chest. 

“My mother's name was Isabela……. what do you think about Isaiah?" Armando answered peering at you while waiting for your reply. 

Nodding in agreement, you give him a reassuring smile, "I like it Mando…. little Isaiah.” 

“Isaiah Matias Lowrey” he decided moving forward to pick him up, but hearing approaching footsteps made him turn back to look at the door. Seeing everyone and Rafe had him ready to swing but you grab his wrist making him peer back to see your worried face. 

“Before I was rudely interrupted with a punch," Rafe paused to glare at Armando who returned his gaze with the same intensity, "I wanted to say congratulations....and to bring a peace offering.” 

Scoffing at his words, Armando moves to hit him again but your voice and tight grip stops him, "I appreciate the kind gesture Rafe but it’s not needed; the peace offering your claiming to bring me has already been filled so please leave.” 

With a nod of his head, he pulls out a ring box, setting it on the counter before looking at your surprised gaze, "Like I said didn’t come here to start mess.... just thought you could pawn this to put towards the baby.” 

And with that he walks away leaving you shocked and Armando agitated as he walks forward grabbing the box and throwing it in the trash. 

“Aye boy, I know you mad as hell right now but that’s money you throwing away!" Marcus exclaimed from the door, making Armando curse angrily in Spanish while walking back to you. 

Picking up the baby, he moves to sit back in the recliner, muttering how his family don’t accept things from low life trash. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

With Armando still on the run he would visit every other month while keeping a low profile but that didn’t affect his growing relationship with you and his son.You always made sure to call and Facetime him keeping him updated on moments he misses while away.

When you both start to feel lonely you would stay on the phone talking with each other until you fall asleep or stay up looking through the portfolio with pictures of your reaction of Armando’s return and the birth of Isaiah.

Also, ever since Isaiah was born his weak bond with Mike has grown stronger making him grow to love the man he needed growing up.  

Even though he really didn’t have a choice since every time he came Marcus would force him to have a heart to heart with his father, muttering it helps heal the scars. 

Although he was very appreciative of Marcus for his relationship with his father, he was more grateful of him for bringing you into his life again. During his visits Armando enjoyed being a father to his son and a loving partner towards you......hopefully who he could call his fiancé, when he comes back to stay for good.

Before he would leave you and Isaiah, Armando always spends your last day together tangled in the sheets with you...... or at least attempting to when your 2-year-old wasn’t terrorizing your favorite Godparents and Midnight. 

Both groaning before laughing when you hear your phone ringing, had you two getting dressed to head towards the parking garage in your new apartment building; to meet Kelly and Dorn who had bags under their eyes while Dorn holds an energetic Isaiah who’s cheesing while saying dada which had you rolling your eyes in fake jealousy. 

Before he would leave Armando always spent some time talking with Isaiah while sitting on his bike causing you to take one of your favorite photos till this day. 

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Author’s Note🎙️:I enjoyed writing this series so much,I’ll be going back over all the parts to actually revise and edit them😭.Until I decide to start writing again peace and love💖💖💖💖.

Also,leave some comments below if you think I should write some one-shot of the ammo squad✍️✍️✍️

[luckykiwiii101]

Feel like overconsuming?

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💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

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(Remind yourself of these facts whenever you feel doubtful, frustrated, stressed or like over consuming)

💕Do NOT focus on the 3D. Just focus on the 4D

💖The 3D is just the old state/assumptions manifested

💗I KNOW that I have everything I want no matter what the 3D shows

💞I Fulfil myself every time I think of my desire (surrender to the 4D)

💓I NEVER identify with the 3D unless it’s desired

🌸I KNOW that i’m not waiting for the 3D to conform. I am only making my desire natural to me. I am getting used to always having it.

🌺I am only REMINDING myself that I have what I want.

🌷Logic doesn’t exist

🎀I am NOT lying to myself!!!

💄NOTHING can “ruin” my manifestation

💐I Only see/hear what l want to see/hear

🩰I Only focus on the FEELING of having what I want, I return back to that feeling every time I think of my desire. I satisfy myself until i no longer need the feeling of satisfaction.

💗I don’t need to affirm or visualise etc all day.

🍬I only look for confirmation in the 4D. NEVER the 3D.

💘Creation is finished. It’s done.

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Quotes from @loasuccessarchive from anons who manifested their dream lives:

💗 “I've manifested so much physical changes when i stopped thinking about how the 3d needs to change. i focused on how i feel (state of already having your desires) and sustained that feeling.”

💓 “I did absolutely nothing but focus on my desires/the 4D. I was delusional, I was detached from whatever bullshit was happening in my 3D and I was basically in love with my 4D.”

💞 “the only reason why you fail, is because you haven’t accepted that imagination is the only reality, everything stems from imagination. the longer you focus on getting it in the physical world, the more stress you’ll have. you only want the feeling such desire brings you, so give it to your inner man.”

💕”All i did was fulfill myself in my imagination, and stopped looking for confirmation in the outer world, whenever i felt the urge to “look for it in the 3D” i would close my eyes and see it in my imagination. That’s all i did, the first days i felt a little anxious but then everything was okay, and i was EXTREMELY calm.”

💖 “I started focusing on the feeling of having everything I wanted, without being specific because my subconscious/ god knows what it is, it’s when things started happening, and let me tell you it’s was so quick.”

“I didn’t work on my self concept, I didn’t do methods (however I tried SATs and it did work for me once but I stopped since I got lazy) I didn’t focus on time or logic, I didn’t do anything but focus on what was happening in my imagination.”

🎀 💋 “your only job in here is to think from the perspective that you already have it baby. don't stress yourself, everything will change because if it is in your imagination and you accept that it will reflect in the 3d, thats literally everything everything and everything . you don't need to change your thoughts, only your state, you want to get into the void this night? imagine however you want that you are waking up with everything you wanted, it is not a desire, it is the reality. you want proof? go to your imagination. everything is there.”

💋”the wish fulfilled isn’t something over exciting (although it may be at first) its just a natural and normal.” —> https://www.tumblr.com/etherealkissed88/737821647378284544/the-state-of-the-wish-fulfilled

P.S Ily 💗 XoXo - Gossip Girl