#mc-lara

[jerzwriter]

I picked brown, simple hair for my MC, but in her interview flashback, she goes full glam blonde. Por que?

[sirenseraph]

ᯓ 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷ᯓ

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁

ʚ𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑ɞ

The tranquility of your silence is always disrupted by your loud friend and the boys from your neighborhood.

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒙 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒕 𝒙 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓

𝑺𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝑰𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒙 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅

[rakuceal]

in the back of my mind

[drabbles-mc]

Flying In (3)

Mayans MC & Narcos Crossover

For @narcosfandomdiscord’s Book of Genesis: Fanwork inspired by someone else’s fanwork (be sure to tag the creator of the OG work!)

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, smoking, arguing/light angst

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: The crossover lives! As always, shout-out to @garbinge for letting me borrow her oc Lara Losa! I'm so obsessed with these guys it's ridiculous.

Chapter Index

When Lara woke up the next morning, it was with a throbbing headache that had her not wanting to open her eyes despite the fact that the hotel room curtains were still pulled closed and the room was still shrouded in relative darkness. Slowly blinking her eyes open, Lara immediately regretted doing so.

She sat upright, blanket falling down so that it pooled in her lap, still covering her legs on the pull-out couch that she and Chepe had transformed into a bed the night before. Through squinted eyes, she looked around the room to find Chepe still fast asleep in his bed as well, snoring with one arm dangling off the edge of the mattress. She allowed herself a small chuckle at that before getting up and starting to accumulate all of her things.

If she hadn’t still felt so exhausted, or if the throbbing in her head had been a little less intense, she would’ve at least done Chepe the courtesy of collapsing the bed back down into a sofa. As it stood, though, she really just wanted to put on her shoes and head back to her apartment so that she could stand underneath the hot water until it ran out. She knew better than to wake Chepe, so she scribbled a note instead on the back of a napkin before taking off.

Her trip back to her apartment had been a quick one, as much as she just wanted to collapse down into her own bed and fall right back to sleep again. A handful of aspirin and a scalding hot shower later, she was off and running once more, making her way back towards the clubhouse.

By the time she got there, morning had already begun its shift into the afternoon. That fact didn’t really hit her until she saw just how many bikes were parked outside the clubhouse—none of the guys with the exception of maybe EZ were really what she’d describe as early birds. That was something that they all had in common. So, if they were already there and reporting for duty, it was later than she’d bargained for.

The only bike she had really been looking for was Bishop’s and the effort to find it wasn’t born out of doubt that it would be there, but more of a hope that it wouldn’t be. She didn’t read all of them, but she saw how many missed texts she’d accumulated from him the night before. It didn’t take a genius for her to figure out what had him so bent out of shape, and if she could put off having that conversation with him for a couple hours she definitely would, but the singular headlight of his bike staring back at her let her know that there was no point in hoping for that.

She kept her sunglasses on even after she entered the clubhouse, not that they were really doing much to save her in the already dark bar space. It didn’t take her very long to locate Angel, who was sitting at one of the small tables scrolling on his phone. A few of the other club members were scattered around, but it was evident that everyone was waiting for something, or for someone. Lara figured that it had to do with her uncles, with Galindo, but no one said that in so many words.

When she plopped down in the chair across from Angel at the table, that’s when she finally took her sunglasses off. She tossed them unceremoniously onto the tabletop as she slouched back in her chair.

“Shit,” Angel said with a laugh as he took in the sight of her.

Lara wanted to feign being annoyed but a laugh came out first. “Real way with words, you know that?”

He shrugged before leaning forward, bracing his forearms along the edge of the table. “Got a lot of things goin’ for me, I know.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed her hair back behind her shoulders. “Yeah, you’re a real—”

“Lara,” Bishop’s voice drowned out whatever the rest of her retort was going to be as he came all but stomping out of Templo. He wasn’t yelling, but the harsh edge to his voice made up for that.

Turning to look at him, she managed a smile that almost could’ve passed for innocent if it weren’t for the mild look of dread in her eyes. “Good morning. Well,” she chuckled, “afternoon. Same thing, right?”

Bishop wasn’t having any of it. “Outside. Now.”

If he had been speaking to anyone besides Lara, he would’ve been yoking them up out of the chair by their collar and dragging them out to the clubhouse porch. But it was Lara, so all he could do was storm right by her with an alarming amount of tension held in his jaw.

She watched him go, wincing slightly as the door swung and slammed shut behind him. It would’ve been easy enough to blame her flinching at the sound on the lingering traces of her hangover, but luckily enough no one asked.

Angel leaned back in his chair. “Have fun with that.”

She was shaking her head at him as she stood up from her seat, making the time to give him the finger before turning to follow where her father had just gone. She didn’t justify his comment with a verbal response, something that had him chuckling to himself as he watched her get up and walk out. The door shut much more quietly when she was the one closing it.

Bishop was sparking up a cigarette as she walked out. If he’d seemed a little less pissed off she would’ve made a joke of asking him for one. But, even with as far as she enjoyed pushing her luck sometimes, she knew that now wasn’t the time for it. She didn’t get enough hours of sleep the night before to be in fighting shape like that.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” he asked, smoke pouring out of his mouth with each word.

“I told you,” she said, half-innocent, half-defensive, “Chepe and I—”

“You didn’t fucking call,” he said, harshly cutting off her explanation. “And you didn’t pick up when I called.”

Her frustration quickly started to bubble up beneath her skin. “Yeah, I know, but—”

“No!” he snapped. “You can’t keep fuckin’ doing this to me.”

She scoffed. “Doing what? What could I possibly be doing to you?”

It was a miracle that Bishop’s body wasn’t visibly trembling with the amount of anger that was brewing within his chest in that moment. It wasn’t even truly anger, really. It was worry. It was hurt. It was the protective drive he’d been getting pushed by ever since he got a frantic phone call from her months before begging him for help because of the blood-soaked mess she'd landed herself in. He knew how quickly things could go so horribly—he’d lived it and so had she. He didn’t understand how she could start acting like none of it had ever happened, like he was so ridiculous for worrying about her.

“You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about,” he said bitterly.

“I’m not a child!”

“But you’re still my kid!”

The way he shouted the words seemed to shock the both of them into silence for a moment. The two of them locked eyes, unable to move from where they were standing, unable to try and continue the argument or even resolve it now. Both too stubborn for their own good, as always.

It was only the sound of another car pulling into the lot in front of the clubhouse that broke their stalemate. They both turned to see the luxury SUV that Gilberto had gotten for their trip rolling to a stop right beside Lara’s car. The two of them being parked next to each other seemed to highlight the best and worst of each vehicle respectively—they both probably would’ve laughed about it if the situation itself had been anything other than what it was.

Chepe and Gilberto both got out of the SUV. Their expressions were vastly different but even so neither of them could hide the fact that they were intensely focused on whatever was or wasn’t unfolding between Bishop and his daughter. Gilberto at least had the good grace to try and hide his interest—there was a pleasant smile on his face as he adjusted his suit jacket and crossed the strip of sandy dirt to the clubhouse. Chepe, however, had his brows knit and mouth flattened into a straight line.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Bishop muttered under his breath as the two of them approached the clubhouse.

Lara usually would’ve had no trouble coming up with a snarky quip for the moment, but she still felt slightly off-kilter from before. Rather than trying to force herself through the discomfort of formally tabling her conversation with Bishop for another time, she simply jumped ship and turned her attention to her uncles instead.

“Morning, Tío,” she said as she stepped in and gave Gilberto a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Buenos días, mija,” he greeted her with a grin, his hand resting on the outside of her arm for a moment as he stepped back.

Gilberto wasn't actually any less nosey than Bishop or Chepe was, he just had a better understanding of when it would serve him to pry and when it wouldn't. Judging by the tightness in the air, he figured that it wasn't the time.

While Gilberto and Bishop were greeting each other, Lara made it halfway down the porch steps to Chepe, who greeted her as usual with an enthusiastic hug and a kiss to the side of her head. “Lalita,” he said it with a softness that let her know he knew that whatever was going on with her and Bishop, it wasn’t fun.

“Chepe,” she said in return, her exhaustion shining through.

Even after she pulled out of the hug, he left his arm draped across her shoulders so that he could pull her and tuck her into his side. Some of the levity returned to his voice as he said, “Like a thief in the night, you took right off.” They made their way up the few steps onto the porch. “Note left behind and everything.”

Bishop skipped over whatever pleasantries he was going to try and force himself through when he heard what Chepe had said. He butt right into the conversation, not even bothering with a hello before laying right in with, “Yeah, and if taking off is—”

Chepe cut him off, clearly not fazed by the anger simmering in Bishop’s tone. “Obispo.”

“What?” Bishop made the singular word carry so much with it.

Gesturing to Lara with his arm not slung around her shoulders, he said, “Look at her.” He paused and waited for Bishop to do what he said, which surprisingly enough he did. “She’s fine. Showed up in one piece—showed up before us!” he added on, nodding towards Gilberto. “You don’t have to wor—”

“You don’t know shit about any of this, Chepe,” he stated firmly. “So do us all a favor and stay the fuck out of it.”

Chepe’s eyebrows raised just slightly. So few people in the world could get away with speaking to him like that at all, let alone in front of others. If Bishop had any sense of humility at all he’d consider himself lucky to be on that shortlist of people, but it would never happen.

There was the barest hint of a smile on Chepe’s face as he started to reply. “I know enough—”

Their conversation was interrupted by the door to the clubhouse opening. Angel stepped halfway out onto the porch, halfway through addressing Bishop when he realized that he’d just landed himself in far larger of a mess than he had bargained for. He had been ready to stumble upon the scene of Lara and Bishop in the midst of a spat, something that most people around the clubhouse had been witness to on an occasion or two, but he wasn’t ready to see both of her uncles standing out there as well.

The sight of all four of them almost made him want to backpedal into the clubhouse again, maybe even send someone else out there to break up whatever it was that the four of them were in the midst of. That seemed like it could be the type of work a prospect could do.

He forced himself not to hide behind the shelter of the door. “Pres, uh, sorry. I just…guys were wondering if we were still meeting for Templo. But,” he made a lame gesture towards Chepe and Gilberto, “obviously—yeah I’ll just tell them—”

“Fucking go, Angel,” Bishop put him out of his misery with three little words.

“Got it,” Angel said with a tight nod before happily disappearing back into the clubhouse.

When the door shut behind him, Bishop returned his attention back to Lara and Chepe. He was speaking to both of them even though he was only looking at Lara. “We’ll finish this later.”

Eager not only for the current conversation to stop, but also for them to move onto the business that they had shown up to conduct in the first place, Gilberto all but ushered Bishop into the clubhouse. “Let’s get started.”

Chepe let his arm drop back to his side as he and Lara stepped towards the clubhouse door that Gilberto was holding open for them. Bishop led the way, Chepe finding himself nearly sandwiched between his business partner and his niece.

He chuckled quietly, leaning over to Lara to speak to her in a voice that was too loud to pass for a whisper, but still quieter than his usual talking voice. “Would this be a bad time to tell him I changed the reservation for our dinner with Galindo?”

It got a genuine laugh out of Lara, her amusement causing Bishop to glance quickly back over his shoulder at them. She couldn’t get her expression under control in time, and as Bishop looked forward once more, she found her obstinate streak returning.

“I think it’s the perfect time, actually,” she said with another quiet laugh.

She stopped walking with them a few strides before the Templo door. Stepping off to the side, she watched as her father, her uncles, and then the rest of the men in the club disappeared into the room and slid the door shut behind them.

When the club was meeting in Templo, it was one of the only times that the clubhouse seemed quiet. There was always a certain level of din, and even with the guys locked away in Templo, there was still music playing quietly to cut through the silence. Other times there was still the sounds of machinery running in the scrapyard.

Not wanting to just stand there and stare at the door the entire time they were meeting, Lara turned away and made her way towards the bar where EZ was cleaning and stacking glasses, an endless and thankless task if ever there was one.

“Just you and me then, Prospect.” She laughed humorlessly as she plopped down on the stool. “As usual.”

He cracked a small grin. “C’mon, my company isn’t that bad.”

“You saying you’d rather be out here with me than in there with them?” she asked, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder towards the closed door.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, I’m saying you should rather be out here with me than in there with them.”

She rolled her eyes but there was no malice in it. “Shut up and get me a beer, Prospect.”

He was shaking his head but he still did as she asked. “See? Feels like we’re in there already.”

Lara wouldn’t have been able to say with any real certainty how long they all met in Templo for. She stayed put at the bar, her and EZ making small snippets of conversation here and there but nothing overly drawn out. That was such an interesting difference between him and his brother that Lara had noticed during her time spent with each of them. EZ knew how to let a conversation die gracefully, a skill that Angel lacked. Both could be infuriating in their own rites, she was sure, but it was interesting nonetheless.

“How long until you get promoted?” she asked, even though she was looking at the Templo door.

EZ chuckled, setting the last of the glasses on the top of the bar. “Too long.”

“Hm,” Lara said, before finishing off the beer EZ had given her. “Rough.”

The two of them were laughing when the door to Templo slid open and the men started to pour back onto the main floor of the clubhouse. Whatever happened within those walls always showed, for a little while at least, on the faces of the men as they exited and gathered back their phones.

No one seemed too deeply upset this time. A few of them were murmuring amongst themselves but no one was storming off in a huff. That was a good sign. When it came to business with Galindo, Lara had noticed that things had a tendency of getting very tense very quickly. Maybe having Gilberto and Chepe in the room helped to ease that tension a little bit. What she would’ve given to be a fly on the wall for that conversation, if for no other reason than to see what the men thought of her uncles, and more specifically Chepe.

Bishop, Taza, Hank, and their partners from Colombia didn’t come out right away. That wasn’t really surprising in and of itself, but Lara’s nosiness was getting the better of her. At least Angel was out, and making a beeline for her and EZ at the bar.

“So,” Angel said, his hand resting on her shoulder for hardly a second as he took the stool right next to hers, “I guess you’re catering the big boss meeting tomorrow?”

Lara laughed, head dropping back in exasperation. “Fuck me.”

“I think we should all book tables. Pack the fuckin’ house,” Angel joked.

She was still laughing while trying to seem annoyed. “I’ll get you all thrown out. Leave you to be Chepe’s fuckin’ problem.”

“Who’s going to be my problem?” Chepe asked as he materialized between Lara and Angel.

Lara didn’t miss the way that Angel sat up a little straighter with her uncle right next to him. She was kind enough not to comment on it. “The club, if they try to crash in at the restaurant while you guys are there meeting with Galindo.”

“Hah,” Chepe laughed, exaggeratedly so. He clapped a hand down on Angel’s shoulder. “That’d be an easy problem to solve, wouldn’t it?”

Angel swallowed hard, tension in his shoulders like Chepe’s hand was physically burning him. Lara could see that he wanted to have the right thing to say in that moment but he didn’t have the slightest clue what it was.

She jumped in to save him. “They wouldn’t make you do extra work like that on a trip like this, though. So I’m sure they’ll all be on their best fucking behavior.”

Chepe chuckled, pulling his hand off of Angel and giving the man a bit of a reprieve. “You will be too, Lalo.”

She laughed. “I know—you won’t even recognize me.”

Chepe cracked a grin as he started to head after Gilberto, who was making his way towards the clubhouse door. “Can’t wait.”

(Divider by @silkholland 💞)

Flying In Taglist (if you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!): @garbinge @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @hausofmamadas @narcolini

@proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon

[garbinge]

Contaminated (14/?)

Angel Reyes x OC Lara Barrera Losa Ezekiel Reyes x OC Frankie Loza OC Lara & Dad!Bishop Losa

30 Day Fic Challenge (21/30)

A/N: Diving back into this world!! also apologies again for falling off posting these!

For a refresh, all the chapters are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of death, murder, blood. Angst, looooot of angst

Word Count: 3.7k

Contaminated Taglist: @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @danzer8705 @trhett21 @keyweegirlie @kmc1989

Angel fucked it up. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, it was something embedded into his DNA, into the Reyes blood. But even besides that, the situation between Lara and him was complicated at best. She was the club president’s daughter. Their relationship was a secret. She had something going on that was clearly bleeding into the club that she never wanted to bring up or talk about. Then with Angel, being apart of what was bleeding into the club from the club's side and him not being able to talk about that, it was inevitable that the two of them would crack under everything against them. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Frankie was pouring a cup of coffee as Lara sat at their kitchen bar table drinking her own as she turned pages of her book. 

“With?” The girl didn’t bother looking up but it was clear she wasn’t really retaining the information on the book she was flipping the pages of. 

“Don’t box me out. I know you and Angel are fighting.” Frankie was following Lara’s suit, not looking at her as she poured sugar in her cup. 

“We’re not fighting.” She slammed the book closed and looked up at Frankie. 

“Right.” Frankie looked up with a straight smile. 

“In fact, there’s not a ‘we’re’, it’s over. Angel and I are done.” 

That made Frankie frown. “Wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You weren’t exactly the founding member of our fanclub.” Lara had an attitude. “Why does it matter?” 

“Contrary to belief, my feelings had little to do with the relationship and more to do with the fact that my best friend was hiding it from me, but again, I’ve come around to understanding why you did, and again as your best friend, I care about you and your feelings.” 

Lara sighed with her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, I’m cranky.” 

“No?” Frankie faked shocked. “Couldn’t tell.” 

“The inevitable happened.” Lara waved her hand as she fell back against the chair. “All the fucking club secrets, I deal with it enough with Bishop, but with Angel? It’s–” Lara paused not sure the word she was looking for. 

“The same feeling?” Frankie was now sipping her coffee after she finished that statement and her eyes were looking up from the warm liquid to meet Lara’s eyes. 

“Yea, exactly.” Lara sighed. “I tried to push past it but last night I just, snapped. We fought and I ended it.” 

“How’d that go?” 

Lara rolled her eyes. “I told him I couldn’t stand this–him, his lies, we had sex and then I broke up with him.” 

“I’m sorry– you had sex and then broke up with him?” 

“Weak moment, he was standing there, and we were all angry and I just kissed him.” 

Frankie nodded her head to the couch hoping Lara followed which she did. Lara sprung off the floor and dove onto the couch, face forward and screamed into the cushions as Frankie tucked her legs to her chest and settled into the couch with a chuckle and sip.

“You know what the worst part is?” Lara turned her head so that she could see Frankie, blowing the piece of hair covering her face out of the way. 

“Hm?” 

“He was shocked when I broke up with him, like he wasn’t expecting it.” 

____________

“So we banged and I’m about to light up my cigarette and she just says she’s done and that we’re over.” Angel’s voice was muffled as he stuffed his mouth with the breakfast burrito. 

“She said she couldn’t stand the relationship. What about that makes you think she wouldn’t have been breaking up with you?” EZ was leaning against the counter in Angel’s kitchen. 

“I don’t know–maybe the fact that she slept with me after?” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. 

EZ smirked. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Angel was standing, tossing his plate into the sink before he turned around to look at his younger brother. 

“I told you not to fuck it up.” 

“I didn’t fuck it up, how did I fuck it up?” Angel’s voice grew louder. “She knows there's shit with the club I’ll never be able to tell her.” 

“She’s been budding heads with Bishop about the same shit, it was only a matter of time that it was going to affect you.” EZ was peeling back his own foil wrapped breakfast burrito. 

“And you couldn’t like have given me a warning?” Angel’s eyebrows raised while EZ chuckled with a full mouth. 

‘Man, you really are an idiot.” 

__________________

“I’m such an idiot.” Lara was still groaning into the cushions of her couch. “I’m gonna have to deal with both Bishop and Angel now.” 

“Speaking of, I think your shit is going down soon. Hank texted me that we both should be at the clubhouse in like an hour after templo.” Frankie was looking at her phone. 

“Yea, Bishop texted me last night.” Lara’s muffled voice made Frankie frown. 

“Before or after your fight with Angel?” Her curiosity seeping into her tone. 

“Before.” 

“Mmmmmm.” Frankie nodded her head as everything pieced itself together. 

“What?” Lara was sending daggers to her best friend. 

“Just makes sense is all. I’m assuming you asked Angel for details and he refused to give them and you spiraled.” 

Lara shot up, her body now sitting on the couch instead of laying horizontal. “Am I that predictible?” The whine in her voice already knowing the answer. “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right choice, ultimately, I can’t do secrets. I need full disclosure. It never would’ve worked.” 

“I think you knew that going into it.” That was what Lara loved and currently hated about Frankie, she was always honest. “Self-sabotage is the Losa family trait.” She was standing up now, her finished coffee cup in her hand, and phone in the other. 

“I feel like I owe you a co-pay or something.” Lara was slouched now on the couch. 

“Add it to my tab.” She was walking to the kitchen as she called out. “C’mon, get ready, we gotta go.” 

____________

“C’mon, we gotta go, we got templo.” EZ waved his phone and the message he got from someone in the club. 

“Since when do you get templo messages, prospect.” Angel was searching for his own phone. 

“It’s an all hands on deck thing, I’m not gonna be at the table, just there to do what I’m told.” He smiled in a way that earned him a shove but Angel was too preoccupied to care to follow through on it. 

“So what do I do when I see her?” Angel was making his way to his front door. 

“I don’t think it matters, Lara is gonna do what Lara is gonna do.” EZ was grabbing his keys and meeting Angel. 

“So you’re saying she’s going to be a dick to me?” Angel stood in the entry way as EZ just laughed and patted his shoulder as he squeezed by to walk out the front door. 

___________

“So I’m just supposed to be a dick to him?” Lara was looking over at Frankie who was in the drivers seat. 

“I never said that.” She lifted her hands in innocence as she pulled into the dirt lot of the clubhouse. “I just said when you’re a dick to him, no one is going to notice, it’s not like you weren’t like that with him for years.” 

“What do you think’s going down with The Calavaras?” Lara changed the topic. 

“Surprised it took you this long to ask.” The noise from the rummaging of her bag almost drowned out Frankie’s voice. 

“I’m dreading it, that’s why. Almost as much as seeing Angel.” The rummaging was being replaced by a thud which was Lara’s head against the headrest. 

“I think that shit’s going down tonight.” Frankie turned to Lara and extended her hands to grab hers. “I think after this, you’ll be able to stop looking over your shoulder and put that horrible horrible memory behind you and move on.” 

“Move on?” Lara was squeezing Frankie’s hands back. 

“Move on.” Frankie nodded. 

“I thought I moved on.” Lara took a deep breath. “And then that asshole showed up.” 

“You’re in the home stretch.” Silence overcame them both for a minute while they stared out at the shed that had an assortment of junk from each one of the guys and that’s when Frankie’s eyes fell on the oil stained rag that reminded her of the blood stained clothes Lara had when Hank brought her to her place all those years ago. “You know what I said that night is still true, right?” 

I’m sure he deserved it..it’s usually you or them.

“I just feel like I attract it, all this death. It’s linked to me.” Lara still had had head against the passenger seat's cushion.

“Its the life, babe. The life we didn’t choose, but nonetheless it’s our life.”  Frankie had pulled her hands away now, but still was staring at her intently. 

“Funny thing is, Frankie, I did choose it, again and again, I just keep getting pushed out.” 

Before Frankie could answer her best friend there was a tap at her window. She quickly turned to see her father. With sympathetic eyes she turned to Lara ready to leave her with some words of encouragement but she was already getting out of the car so Frankie did the same with a sigh. Lara was waving to Hank and then making her way to one of the couches on the club’s porch leaving Frankie to talk with her dad. 

“Everything alright?” Hank picked up on some tension. 

“Time will tell.” Frankie’s arms crossed before she moved her gaze onto her father’s. “Need anything from me?” Frankie understood the ins and outs of the club life, that she would only be given the information she needed, nothing less and certainly nothing more. It helped that she was who she was and she could accept it, living life on the outside didn’t bother her because she had a life on the outside. Lara on the other hand, her life on the outside consisted of trying to find a way in. Frankie couldn’t blame her, with everyone she’d lost over the years, it only made sense she was trying to fill that void with the last familial bond she had. 

“Nope, just you here, will let you know if that changes though.” Hank was tossing his hand over her shoulder. “Chucky brought in donuts if you’re hungry.” They were slowly walking to the middle of the lot before Taza was waving down Hank to come inside. “I’d grab one quick, before the rest of the guys get here, they’ll murder them.” He was laughing as he left Frankie to enter the clubhouse. 

As the sound of motorcycles filled the air, both Frankie and Lara turned their attention to the gate, they knew a few minutes were going to pass by before they were rewarded with knowing who it was as they weaved through the path that led people from the Romero Brother's scrap yard's front entrance to the clubhouse. 

As EZ and Angel’s bike appeared at the large green gate, Lara sunk into her seat a little more and prayed this went by fast and painless. 

“Brought you a breakfast burrito.” EZ was opening his side compartment and grabbing a to-go bag so he could hand it to Frankie who was still in the middle of the lot. At this point Angel had cut his engine and began walking towards the clubhouse. 

“Thanks.” Frankie grabbed the bag and placed a quick kiss to EZ’s lips before turning just as quickly to watch Angel and Lara. 

“This should be interesting.” EZ followed Frankie’s stare. 

“I’m wondering if we should take cover.” Her arms folded as she intently watched. 

“That bad you think?” EZ looked down at Frankie with a frown.

A scoff mixed with a chuckle left her mouth. “I think it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.” 

As Angel reached the top of the clubhouse stairs his eyes fell on Lara and all he did was nod in acknowledgement before entering the clubhouse. 

“That wasn’t bad.” EZ frowned in acceptance. 

Frankie looked back over her shoulder, her eyebrows meeting over the bridge of her nose practically. “You’re lucky you’re pretty you know that.” 

“Always judged for my looks, never my brain.” EZ faked being hurt, the line clearly being a lie since EZ’s brain was one that could be studied with his smarts and photographic memory. With a squeeze to Frankie’s shoulder, he began jogging to get inside the clubhouse with everyone else.

________

The door opening alerted Lara immediately. Frankie had gone inside to eat with Chucky and leave Lara to her thoughts, it was obvious the girl wanted some time alone. But truthfully, time alone wasn’t what she wanted at all, she wanted to know what was going to happen. There had been no incident since the run in with the Calavara's patched member who knew the man she killed and the follow up note to really set in the scare, but that didn’t mean things weren’t happening that she wasn’t aware of. This was now a club issue, The Calavaras and The Mayans, not just a Bishop, Lara and Jesse issue. Although, thinking back, Bishop had enlisted the club’s help the minute he got involved, Lara was just naive to it since she saw it as her Uncle Hank, not a club president’s protector. 

Some days, Lara would go back and remember it all. The screams, the cursing, the blood. The coldness she felt as she sat there in the mess that she caused. She’d even go as far back as to remember why it happened, how the man treated her, why she ended up with him to begin with. That’d force her back even further, to one of the most painful things to happen to her, losing her brother, which ultimately brought Bishop to push her away too. Push her right into Jesse’s arms. That’s what she’d convince herself at least, but deep down, she knew that it was on her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and in all honestly, she thought the word would get back to her father and he’d come and snatch her by the arm and force her away from the Calavaras. But that never happened, and instead she just stayed because it was comfortable, it was the closest she’d ever get to her father’s life. 

Bishop on the other hand, always blamed himself. It’s what he was currently doing as he spoke to everyone in templo. 

“You’ve all been gracious enough to take this personal vendetta I have with The Calaveras on as your own, I know I’ve left out the details of why and what, but your trust in me is something I’m greatly appreciative of. Hopefully, this shit will be done sooner than later, I know living on edge like this isn’t good for anyone and it’s taken away from our other business. Again, for you guys to take on my mishaps as your own, I can’t repay you for that.” 

“We’re a family, Bish. We got you.” Coco said as he inhaled his cigarette. 

Bishop nodded and continued. “Got intel late in the morning that The Calavaras are going to be moving scripts from Lodi down to Tijuana, large shipment, probably stopping over in Dogwood to steer clear of any unwanted buzz. When we get that layover confirmed, we’re moving in. I want every Calaveras dropped, I want the charter to cease to exist.” 

“We gotta be concerned about any blowback? Knocking off a whole charter seems risky.” Gilly asked, hands folded on the table. 

“Mayans have history with The Calavaras, not a good one either, Mar–Padrino has given me the green light, did us the favor of making any calls. Other charters are on board. Sons, Bastards, even some of the local crews. 

“We got to be worried any of those crews are gonna tip us off?” Angel was fidgeting with his lighter, staring down at it as he asked his question. 

“With the beef these guys have with the Calaveras, I’d doubt it, we’re basically doing the dirty work for everyone.” 

The group nodded. “I called templo to let this group know this, the next alert won’t be for templo, it’ll be to move, I’m gonna need everyone to stay close for the next week until we get a date.” 

Everyone nodded again, some vocalized their acknowledgement. It was then Bishop slammed the gavel down and stood up along with everyone else. 

“Angel can I talk to you?” He called out which made Angel’s heart start beating a mile a minute. 

Did he know? Was he going to punch him? Kick him out the club? No, he wouldn’t have read him in on what was going down if that was the case. Or maybe he did because he wanted Angel to die for hurting his daughter. But he hadn’t meant to hurt Lara, if anything Bishop should be proud he hadn’t caved and told Lara club details.  These were all the thoughts that were going through Angel’s head as he approached Bishop. 

“Gonna need you to brief little bro in on this. Need all the extra hands we can get.” 

“Huh?” Angel was confused for a moment until he sat with what Bishop said for a few seconds. “Oh yea, sure, I’ll brief him on our way out.” Angel nervously nodded. 

“How is she?” Bishop asked more at a mumble now. 

“Lara?” Angel’s heart picked up again. 

“Yea, I know I’ve put you with her a lot, it’s because if I put Hank or Taza she’ll have a fit, Coco would just get high and Gilly would be glued to that fuckin’ playstation they have all day, with you, I know even if she gives you lip you can take it, and just mind your business after the back and forth.” 

“Oh yea, no, it’s no issue, Bish, happy to help.” Angel scratched his head nervously. 

“So, how is she?” Bishop was reaching in his pocket for his cigarettes. 

“Uhm,” Angel thought how to respond, “pissed.” Angel tossed his head back and forth. It was definitely not a lie. 

Bishop chuckled a bit and tapped Angel’s arm with a quick mumbled ‘thanks brother’ and began to walk by him until Angel stopped him with his next sentence. 

“Think she just wants to know what’s going on, I can tell she isn’t a fan of being on the outside since this situation seems personal to you.” 

Bishop nodded, his face falling into an annoyed frown. His frustration wasn’t at Angel, but it did annoy him that he was the one telling him what he already knew. 

________

Bishop made his way outside, searching for Lara in the lot but when he caught her slouched on the couch he took a few steps closer to her. He didn’t make eye contact with her, just stared off into the lot like it was a beautiful landscape he was taking in. 

“It’ll all be over in a couple of days. Maybe then me and you can get a cup of coffee, talk things over.” 

That was his outstretched hand, his olive branch, his peace offering. 

Lara closed her eyes and waited for more, more detail, anything of what it would be. When it was clear Bishop wasn’t going to be speaking anymore she stood up and walked over to the stairs and did the same as him and stared out without giving him so much as a glance. 

“When it’s over, you can tell me where you want to ship me off to." Her eyes still not daring to look at him as she paused for a minute before continuing. "Let me know who's watching me today, so I can tell them I’d like to go home.” 

“Gonna have Taza take you, you’ve been pissing Angel off.” Bishop’s tone went back to frustrated simply by the girl’s reply. Little did he know that comment opened up way more in Lara than he knew. 

“Excuse me?” Her head snapped to Bishop, her glare practically burning into him now, completely opposite from before. “Pissing him off?” Her eyebrows raised in shock before she scoffed and made her way to Frankie’s car to wait. 

Angel was soon walking out of the clubhouse and making his way over to his bike before Lara swiftly stepped in front of him and muttered to him. 

“You told Bishop I’m pissing you off? Really? That’s how you’re gonna handle this? Run to MY dad? What, are you fucking five?” She barked at him. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Angel raised his hands in innocence. 

“I hate when you play fucking coy, what the fuck is your problem?” She was practically pushing him. “Grow the fuck up Angel, we broke up,” that part of the sentence was whispered but very pointedly, “if you want to get back at me, drop off a box of my stuff to my house, push up on one of the club hang arounds, unfollow me on shit but don’t use Bishop to get back at me.” 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Lara.” He was trying to walk past her but she kept stepping in front of him. 

Bishop had been watching from the steps, Taza joining him shortly after the fuse got lit between the two. 

“What’s their deal?” Bishop frowned, taking in the scene in front of him. 

“I don’t know but she seems pissed.” Taza was laughing. “Want me to break it up?” 

“Yea, take her home, and don’t tell her she looks pissed, I think that pisses her off.” 

Taza laughed again but agreed and quickly moved to not only take Lara away from Angel but also home where she could be freely pissed off in her own space. And while he did, Bishop took a minute to look at Angel who looked distressed, which wasn’t normal for him after a Lara encounter, he was usually snapping back at her and brushed it off his shoulders soon after. But before the gear in Bishop’s mind could keep turning over for answers, the door opened and Frankie came out laughing with Chucky leaving his mind to process what he saw later. 

[hassieharrisoon]

5 posts!

The captivating @hassieharrison is our newest CM by Composure Cover! Head to ComposureMagazine.com as she speaks to us about her seasons on @tacomafdtrutv and @yellowstone as Lucy and Laramie!

[beatrizamante]

Thank you, I needed that

Love and Deepspace: Look at your grandma and childhood friend, you like them right? :3

Me: Yeah :D

Love and Deepspace:

[curly94]

Do not engage with the Media!!!

[futurefind]

^^ the face of a gremlin with more icons than damn near all of my muses/icons. and the only one i gave up on 'finishing' iconing. v early on.

(and also 10/10 would shank you for her sister. Dont Worry Abt It)

[drabbles-mc]

Flying In: Chapter Index

Mayans MC & Narcos Crossover

Summary: Bishop had enough on his hands with his MC without trying to worry about his brother's business dealings with Galindo and his cartel. However, when he gets a surprise phone call from Gilberto saying that he would be coming to town, and that he wasn't showing up alone, he knew that he wasn't going to have any choice in the matter. There was going to be no more keeping his worlds separate. He was just going to have to learn to be okay with that.

Chapter list under the cut!

Status: Ongoing

Shout-out to @garbinge for letting me use her OC Lara Losa for this fun little crossover series! You can check out her origin story in Contaminated!

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4

[garbinge]

Contaminated (13/?)

Angel Reyes x OC Lara Barrera Losa OC Lara Losa x OC Frankie Loza

From these August Prompts:  “Damage Control"

A/N: Update for my girlies <3 and Angel lol.

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of death, losing a loved one, Alzheimers, cancer, light angst, cursing. . 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

“So this has been going on for five years?” Frankie sat at the kitchen island trying to wrap her brain around everything. 

“No, once five years ago. And now, only for a few months.” Lara explained. 

“Months?!” Frankie’s eyes went bug eyed. 

“Weeks! A few weeks!” Lara corrected herself to ease Frankie more into it. She was in full damage control mode and trying to back track her mistake of not telling her best friend about her and Angel, although classifying it as a mistake wasn’t exactly true. She had her reasons for not saying anything but she was regretting her finding out this way. Lara’s eyes moved over to the person to her right expecting him to chime in but Angel was too busy stuffing his face. 

Lara closed her eyes and took a big sigh before looking back at Frankie. 

“I was going to tell you, I promise I was going to tell you.” Her hand extended across the island to grab Frankie’s. “I just, things are really complicated right now. I didn’t wanna risk Bishop finding out and honestly we weren’t really sure this was anything until yesterday anyways.” 

At that Angel looked up from his plate, “Um, no I was actually sure, just following your lead.” 

Lara looked at him with a frown and then back at Frankie, “Alright well I wasn’t sure this was anything so I wanted to wait to tell you.”

Frankie just sat there, frown on her face, more confused than angry as she took in all the information.

“Are you happy?” She looked at Lara and asked, her face was serious. 

Lara looked at Frankie for a split second before looking over to Angel who was also waiting for her response. Her silence was bringing anxiety to everyone in the room except herself. Turning back to Frankie she nodded. 

“The happiest I’ve been since Aiden.” She knew Frankie would get that, Lara loved her little brother like anyone would have loved and cared for their little sibling, but Aiden brought Lara pure joy into her life and when he died that light in Lara went with him. 

“Okay then.” Frankie said with a nod and she stood up getting ready to leave. 

“I’m going up north with Hank today to see my grandma.” She was grabbing her bag and situating it back over her pajamas. 

“It’s like 5 in the morning.” Angel said confused since the girl had just gotten home an hour ago and was pretty drunk. 

Lara knew though. This time of year was difficult for everyone. For Lara and Bishop it brought up the painful memories of losing Aiden. For Frankie and Hank it was his mother, her grandmother, while she was still alive, she was going downhill but they still went up every year around this time to celebrate the anniversary of her beating cancer. It was fucked up that the year she beat cancer the early onset of Alzheimer's began. It gave them an excuse to visit her and ring the bell every year, though and it did bring some happiness to each of them to see her celebrate it. 

“I completely spaced.” Lara said realizing it was one of the reasons she had gotten drunk. “Do you need a ride?” Yes, Lara was sucking up, but that’s what you did when you were in full damage control mode with your best friend. You kissed her ass. 

“No Hank’s picking me up, I’m gonna wait outside for him.” She squeezed Lara’s arm and gave a half smile even though it looked more like a frown. “I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve that.” 

As Frankie passed Angel she leaned over to give him a quick goodbye. “If you hurt her I’ll fuckin’ gut you.” It was said at such a whisper, Angel almost missed it but he didn’t. His eyes went wide and his brows met in the middle of his forehead as the shock and confusion of what Frankie said to him settled in. As Frankie pulled away the smile on her face was like nothing of the sorts had just been spoken from her mouth. 

Lara walked Frankie to the door, there was so much more she wanted to say but right now wasn’t the right time. But she couldn’t just say nothing. 

“I want you to know it’s not because I didn’t trust you–”

“I know, Lara. It’s because you wanted to keep it yours. I get it.” The smile on Frankie’s face was a lot more genuine now, “but I’m still mad at you. And whatever this is, I expect it when I’m back.” She laughed, referring to Lara’s full kiss ass mode. 

The two hugged before Frankie walked out the door leaving Lara and Angel in the apartment by themselves. 

“That could’ve gone worse!” Angel said, standing up from the stool. 

“That could’ve gone better.” Lara said with an eye roll. 

“Well, I’m sure a couple hours of sleep will make you feel better.” Angel was practically begging to go back to bed. 

“You can go back to bed but I have tons of shit I need to get done.” Lara started picking through the cabinet under the sink for cleaning supplies. 

“What?” Angel frowned and looked at what Lara was doing. 

“I’m in full damage control mode, I’m gonna clean her room, like really clean her room and do her laundry.” Lara said in an obvious way like Angel should have known better. “Why don’t you go home, crash, and call me when you’re up, I’ll come over and we can stay at your place tonight. Give Frankie some space.” 

Angel was genuinely baffled and confused but knew better than to argue with the girl. “Sure, you don’t need help cleaning?” 

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll be good.” Lara smiled as Angel bent down and placed a kiss on her head.

Cleaning was actually pretty therapeutic for Lara, it gave her time to clear her head while also going through some thoughts and feelings she needed to sort out, doing this for Frankie felt like the right thing. She honestly didn’t hide it because she thought Frankie would tell Bishop it was exactly what Frankie said, she wanted it to be just her and Angel’s thing. No outside sway or opinions. It was dark by the time Angel called, Lara knew he had probably been up for a while and got called into club stuff, she didn’t mind, it gave her more time around the house. 

Now at Angel’s, the two of them were knocked out on the couch, both catching up on the hours they missed from the night prior. Hours must’ve passed by just with the TV playing overnight in the background while the two laid snoring on the couch. An alarm went off on someones phone, causing both of them to stir awake, both a little frightened while they searched for the source of the noise. 

“It’s not mine.” Angel said his voice groggy and raspy. 

“It’s mine, I have a shift. It’s already 7AM.” Lara sighed and plopped back down against Angel who had already tried to go back to sleep. 

“Call out.” Angel mumbled. 

“I wish, I need the money. I’m gonna shower.” Lara wasn’t exactly speaking at anything higher than a mumble either. “Please can you make me coffee?” 

The groan from Angel’s throat was one of annoyance but not one of defiance so Lara knew she’d have a hot cup of coffee when she got out of the shower which is what motivated her to get up in the first place. “Thank you.” 

______

“I don’t know what you did to get water pressure like that but I’m demanding you come to our apartment and do it to our shower.” Lara said as she walked through Angel’s house in one of his flannels and her hair wet ready for a coffee. 

To Lara’s surprise, Angel wasn’t alone, she walked right into the living room where EZ was with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Hi Lara.” He smiled from ear to ear. 

“Prospect.” She rolled her eyes, no need to hide now. If Frankie didn’t tell him, she eventually would have and there was no going back from or denying her swimming in Angel’s clothes. 

Angel had a cup of coffee in his hand and handed one to Lara. “EZ brought coffee, you can have mine.”

“If I knew you were gonna have company I would have brought three, or not come at all.” The grin on EZ’s face was getting bigger as he spoke, he wanted to boast and tell Angel every version of ‘I told you so’ that he could. 

Lara took two sips from the cup and handed it back to Angel. “Here I just needed a jolt, I gotta get ready and head out anyways, I’ll grab something on the way.” And before she could even let either of them respond she was running back into Angel’s room and tossing her all black hostess outfit on and tying her hair back. 

As the two boys stood alone in the living room, EZ wiggled his eyebrows at Angel which earned him a light shove and ‘shut the fuck up’ before Lara reappeared in the room. 

“Sorry to leave like this, thanks for the coffee sips.” She stood up on her tip toes to grab Angel’s head and leave a kiss on his lips before grabbing her purse off the hooks and going to the door to leave. “Bye EZ!” 

Now both the men were truly alone in Angel’s house, there was a couple seconds of silence before EZ spoke up. 

“So should I say I told you so, I was right, or something else? I’ll let you come up with it even, it can be a joint effort.” EZ was still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Man, shut up.” Angel turned to grab his kutte from the hooks. “I thought you needed me for club shit.” 

“I do, but this is just my reward for having to play hide n seek with the fuckin’ club. No one answers their phone this early.” 

“Yea bro, it’s 7 fuckin AM.” Angel’s eyebrows raised as he placed his kutte on and grabbed the coffee back to chug half of it down. “Come on let’s go.” 

“Yo,” EZ said as they started to head out themselves. “Don’t fuck this shit up.” It was serious, he wasn’t grinning anymore, it was coming from a genuine place. 

“Don’t go saying shit at the club, aight? Bish doesn’t know and I’m gonna let Lara tell me how she wants to deal with that.” Angel yelled back at his little brother and paused before speaking up again. 

“And I’m not gonna fuck it up.”

[choccy-milky]

another batch of MCs as thanks for drawing clora!!🧎‍♀️🙏TY AGAINNN I HAD A LOT OF FUN DRAWIN ALL UR CUTIES🥹💕 (in order: @kerimcberry / @noelles-legacy / @lara-kaminari @serpentsillusion / @slytherincursebreaker / @kaviary-blog @4ever2000lover / @bassicallymaestra )

[merelyafacade]

Make her a main character that matters.

After basim i need a female assassin.

No more " you can choose" . Give me a woman born in the brotherhood like the frye but let me see her grow up in it. Childhood training mission. First kill. Introduction to the council and the creed. Being "brainwash" in believing she is doing good.

Or make her a commoner, a child brought into the creed and who realize that all the people at the top of the brotherhood are often aristocrats who never had to let go of their freedom to live the next day.

Let her be devoted to the cause let me see her be even a bit naive in what she believes.

Then let her grow like you let ezio and altair do. Make her cocky but also wise. Not just a living punchlines machine or a disapproving female figure. Do not make her relation to a man the core of her story.

Show her question what she is doing. Make her afraid of being shun by the brotherhood, the only thing, the only rules and life she ever knew. Let her fight for what she knows is a good cause but not what she believes in anymore. Let her loose and get hurt.

Let her rebuild herself. Let her be friend with historic people who are more than cameo and merchants npc and show her what fighting from freedom can mean. What living for yourself can mean.

Show her habits. Show her discovering small pleasures in life that are seen wasteful as an assassin : Her favourite food. Her favourite book.

Make her assassin robes evolve as her fashion tastes and identity evolve too.

[keri-mcberry]

Some wonderful MC's for you all! ✨

This has been sitting in my WIPs for the longest time, and I finally got the chance to finish it, as well as add a few more incredible artists! Thank you all so much for taking the time to draw my baby Lyla! 🥹

First Row: @pierrot-dokki , @syaolaurant , @nineng

Second Row: @sparxyv , @moonstruckmoony , @autumnl34v3s , @blbllblblblll

Third Row: @cottagelady99 , @choco-froggie , @mostboringcrossover

Fourth Row: @bassicallymaestra , @lara-kaminari , @b00k0flife , @myokk

Please go check them out if you haven't already! 🫶

[lyn31]

Hi Hi! I love your writing so much!! Could I request Zayne&mc and their second pregnancy. Sorry if I got the age gaps wrong but it seems like mc gets pregnant shortly after “Seed Baby”. I’d love to see Rose’s smug reaction to the so called “careful couple” and then later when mc & Zayne discover it’s twins mc is convinced Rose cursed her.

Eyyy, I’m glad someone picked up on that! Ahahaha—because the twins definitely weren’t a planned pregnancy 😂 I actually had it planned out (another reason I gave that little nudge with the last bit in “Seed-baby”). I was going to write the smut for it too, but that can wait! It doesn’t happen right away from Seed-Baby, but the next year technically!

And this is helping me—I’m not procrastinating! Yay! Let me know what you think! 👀💕

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Little Surprises

Summary

A heartfelt and humorous story about a couple's unexpected surprise pregnancy, turning their lives upside down as they navigate the joys and challenges of this new chapter and the thought of adding new family member.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Family fluff, pregnancy surprise, banter, silly, sweet, emotional!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mission’s long over, but you’re still at the base, running end-of-day reports while Tara complains about paperwork, Rose pokes at the vending machine, and Lara’s being overly generous with ginger tea distribution.

She walks up to your desk just as your stomach turns for the third time that today.

You blink at her, glance down at the steaming mug she sets near your elbow, and then everything lurches. You’re out of your seat in a heartbeat, bolting toward the office bathroom.

You barely make it in time.

Your knees hit the tile as you grip the sides of the toilet, gagging. It’s awful. And loud. You hear the door creak open behind you—soft steps.

A familiar hand gathers your hair.

Rose.

She doesn’t say anything at first, just holds your hair and rubs a slow, grounding line between your shoulder blades.

“You’ve been off for a while,” she murmurs. “You should probably get it checked.”

“I’m fine,” you croak, flushing the toilet and leaning back against the wall, eyes shut. “Probably something I caught on the trip.”

Footsteps creak in the hallway. Lara’s voice floats in. “Even if it’s just the flu, better safe than sorry.”

You don’t even lift your head. “Not you too.”

Tara leans in against the door frame, sipping from a coffee can. “You know your husband’s gonna check you anyway, right? If he see you, it’s over.”

You sigh, dragging your hand down your face.

Rose offers her hand and helps you up. You rinse your mouth, wash your hands, wipe the sweat off your forehead.

Then she says it, too casually.

“Speaking of the trip… are you sure you caught something from there and not brought something back instead?”

You blink. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

She just raises an eyebrow, glancing from your eyes to your stomach and back again.

You frown. “What—”

Your voice cuts off as your own eyes widen.

Tara’s the one who gasps. “Oh my god. Are you pregnant?!”

“What?! No! I’m on pills!”

Rose’s tone is maddeningly calm. “It’s not a hundred percent, sis.”

“And wasn’t the trip for your ten-year wedding anniversary?” Lara adds, too amused. “I doubt you two were holding back.”

You rub your forehead. “This is not happening. We weren’t planning to try again for another four years.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Rose, gentle this time. “You don’t want them?”

“Of course I do!” you snap, too quickly. You exhale hard. “It’s just… not the plan. And besides, I’m not pregnant. You’re all being ridiculous.”

Rose hums, unfazed. “One way to find out.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your pulse and get your replu ready, when Tara suddenly claps her hands.

“Right! Stay put. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

You turn. “Tara—don’t you dare—” call after her, but she’s already halfway out the door, yelling something about a convenience store and how she’s buying the good brand.

You slump into Rose’s side as Lara hands you tissues and a water bottle like a war medic. “This is excessive,” you mutter.

“No,” Rose says dryly. “This is justice.”

Twenty minutes later, Tara returns triumphant—waving a plastic bag overhead like she just came back from a holy quest.

“Okay,” she says, dropping it on the desk. “We’ve got options. Pink box, digital one, and the one with the stupid little lines no one can ever read properly. You’re doing all three.”

“Why?” you deadpan.

“Because if I have to watch you puke your soul out, I deserve to confirm if you’re creating life.”

“I’m not!”

“You might be!”

With an exaggerated grumble, you snatch the bag from her and march back to the bathroom. You hear Lara mutter something like, “She’s definitely pregnant,” and Rose whisper, “I can already hear the existential spiral.”

You do the tests.

You sit on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed, eyes locked on the trio of plastic sticks lined up on the sink like tiny instruments of destiny.

Five minutes.

You glance once. Blink.

You lean in.

All three. Positive.

You stare at them in stunned silence.

Then you start laughing.

Loud. Unfiltered. A little hysterical.

The kind of laugh that bubbles up from deep in your chest—raw and unguarded. You laugh so hard it aches—until it doesn’t. Until it’s something else.

The sound fades, leaving only silence. Heavy. Humming.

You wipe at your eyes, not realizing they were wet.

And then you look at the tests again.

Three positive lines. Clear as day. No ambiguity. No denial.

You go still.

Like your whole body’s trying to catch up to the truth.

Your hand moves to your stomach, instinctive. There's no bump, no flutter, not yet—but the memory of that weight, of that fullness, is still in your bones. You remember.

You know.

Your chest tightens, not with panic, but with the kind of ache that carries echoes. Of swollen ankles and early mornings. Of doctor visits and sleepless nights. Of being stubborn, pushing through deadlines you didn’t need to meet, convincing yourself you could juggle everything without slowing down.

And then the first kick. The first cry. The way it all changed after.

You sink a little into the toilet lid, a breath leaving your lips in a slow exhale. Two years back at work. You’d just started to feel like yourself again—or at least, the version of yourself that knows how to juggle everything. But this time... this time, the thought of pausing doesn’t make your skin crawl. It doesn’t feel like a threat to your identity. It feels… almost like a relief.

You tilt your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers stay on your stomach, loose and still. You don’t know what’s coming. You’re still scared. That won’t change. But the fear doesn’t drown you this time. It doesn’t win.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips.

“Okay,” you murmur, just to yourself. “We’ll do it different this time.”

You open your eyes, a little watery, a little dazed—but certain.

And for the first time in minutes, maybe longer, you breathe in fully.

Deep and steady.

Because this time… you’re not afraid to slow down. Not afraid to rest.

The door swings open a second later—Rose, of course, but this time her brow furrowed in worry, probably from whatever she heard outside the stall. “Are you okay?”

You turn the sticks toward her like you’re displaying cursed evidence, but you can help the curve on your lips. “All three.”

Tara lets out a whoop from behind her. “Knew it! Knew it!”

Lara peeks in with a grin. “Guess your body's not great at waiting four years.”

You shake your head slowly, dazed and still grinning. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Rose nudges your knee with hers. “Do you want it to?”

You look at her, really look, then down at the three test results.

A wave washes over you—warm, slow, terrifyingly tender.

Your hand moves to your stomach, resting like it’s already real.

“…Yeah,” you murmur. “I think I do.”

Then louder. “I mean, I was hoping for more eventually. I just didn’t think eventually meant now.”

Lara smiles. “Well, the universe disagrees.”

“And so does your uterus,” Tara adds helpfully.

You throw a wad of toilet paper at her. She dodges it with a cheer. “So! How’re you telling Zayne?”

You blink. “I’m just gonna tell him?”

Rose snorts. “After what happened the first time, he might actually tie you to the bed.”

Without missing a beat, you shoot back. “He doesn’t need a reason to do that.”

Three overlapping “ew”s hit your ears. You roll your eyes.

“Oh, come on. We’re all married—don’t be dramatic. It’s not like Rose doesn’t overshare about her married life.”

“Yeah, but we’re used to Rose doing it. Not you too!” Tara protests.

Rose just rolls her eyes.

“Right. The hormones are definitely kicking in already,” she says, crossing her arms.

Lara leans in, more serious now. “But seriously. This time, you need to slow down.”

“I already plan to take a break, chill!”

That shuts them up.

You look at all three of them, confused by their silence—and then Tara gasps.

“Holy shit. It’s the miracle of parenthood. She actually wants to take a break from work!”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Rose sighs, wiping away imaginary tears.

“Truly historic,” Lara adds, miming the same.

You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue. But then Rose nudges you again, and the glint in her eye tells you exactly what she’s about to say.

“Don’t you—”

“What did I say before?”

You groan and chuck a different roll of toilet paper at her.

“Please don’t destroy company property,” Lara says calmly, like this is just another Tuesday.

“Hey, what did I do? I’m not the one who bragged about being the ‘careful’ one,” Rose says, dodging the toilet paper.

“You jinxed us!”

“Nah, I predicted it. Honestly, I was more surprised when you two planned Serena and actually succeeded.”

“Hey!”

“Actually, same here,” Tara chimes in.

“Hey!!”

“To be fair,” Lara says, deadpan, “I thought you’d have kids right after the wedding.”

“Oh, screw you guys!”

You end up throwing every toilet paper roll at them. They shriek, dodge, and laugh—but so do you.

Three tests in one hand.

Your squad by your side.

And a quiet, undeniable bloom of disbelief turning into joy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s late afternoon when you arrive at Serena’s preschool. The moment the door opens, a wave of tiny voices bursts out.

“Bye, Serena!”

“See you tomorrow, Serenaaa!”

“Bring your cool star stickers tomorrow!”

She walks out slowly, her soft footsteps nearly lost in the chorus of chaos. One hand waves delicately, her expression calm despite the flurry of goodbye shouts. You swear her classmates treat her like the lead of a drama troupe heading off-stage.

You take her hand and squeeze. “Popular as always, huh?”

She glances up at you with a small smile, holding her snow rabbit in her other arm. “They talk a lot, but they nice.”

You laugh. “Yeah, they really do.”

As you walk down the sidewalk together, you give her hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey… remember when you and your cousins asked Daddy about where babies come from?”

Serena nods, expression thoughtful. “Willow’s still drawing baby trees.”

You chuckle. “Of course she is. But you… you understood it really well.”

She hums quietly.

“So…” you say lightly, “what would you think if we planted another baby seed sometime? Like… if you had a little sibling?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She frowns at the sky like she’s waiting for a cartoon idea bubble to pop up. Then she looks at you, asking, "In Mummy's belly?"

You stifle a laugh. “Yes. In my belly.”

“Hmm,” She hugs her little stuffed rabbit to her chest. “It might hurt you. But it’s very worth it.”

Your breath catches for a second. That was almost word-for-word what Zayne told her once, when she asked if it hurts. You remember the way he said it so gently. “Sometimes, yes. But the doctor and everyone around the mom help take care of her, so she’s not alone. And when the baby finally arrives, it’s… very worth it.”

You don’t say anything else about the baby for the rest of the way home. You just smile to yourself, asking how her day was, listening to her quiet little ramblings, and remembering all over again that yes, this will definitely be worth it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner is done, the dishes are stacked, Serena���s belly is full, and your feet are finally up. Zayne’s just finished showering, fresh in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair still damp, trailing a faint scent of eucalyptus soap.

Serena is curled up on the rug with a picture book in her lap, giving each character a wildly different voice. You’re half-watching the TV, half-dozing, one arm slung lazily over the backrest.

Zayne sinks down next to you with a quiet sigh. He stretches his legs out, then turns to look at you properly. Not just glance—look.

“You okay?” he asks.

You blink at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. “Yeah. Just tired.”

His brow furrows slightly. “You’ve been quiet today.”

Before you can respond—before you can even begin to find the words—Serena pipes up from the floor, completely unbothered, completely unprompted.

“Mummy wants to plant seeds in her belly.”

You blink. Zayne blinks.

There’s a beat of pure silence.

Zayne turns to you, confused but processing fast. “I thought… we were going to wait?”

You lift a hand, half shrugging, half suppressing a laugh. “Apparently, the decision was made for us.”

His eyes widen slightly.

“Wait. Are you—? Now?”

You nod.

“Probably from our anniversary trip,” you say, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Y’know. That romantic getaway where someone kept insisting on no distractions. I was on pills. Apparently that’s not enough.”

Zayne just stares at you.

For a second, there’s no calculation. No analysis. Just silence.

Then—the faintest breath escapes him. His eyes soften. And then the smallest smile curves at the corner of his lips—not the usual amused one, not the teasing kind. It’s quieter. A little stunned. A little awed.

“...Another—?”

You nod again.

He exhales, almost a laugh but gentler, and reaches for your hand. Like he needs to touch you just to make it real. His thumb brushes against your fingers, reverent, like you might disappear.

And then you see it. The math kicking in.

Anniversary trip. No distractions. No interruptions. No protection.

He blinks. “That... does make sense.”

You snort. “Took you a second.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m a doctor, not a psychic.”

You both laugh softly, and then his hand finds yours, fingers lacing with warm certainty.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks again, quieter this time.

You squeeze his hand. “Still a little shocked. But… yeah. I’m good.”

He leans in, presses a kiss to your temple. “Then I’m good too.”

“This time I’m going to take a break right away.”

You didn’t expect that to make him react, but you can practically see his eyes shining—watery, actually—so you lean in and kiss the corner of his eye, your thumb brushing lightly under the other.

“Don’t cry on me, dear.”

“You said I’m allowed to cry if I feel like it,” he murmurs, his voice suspiciously thick. He pulls you in closer, holding you tighter. And apparently, you taking care of yourself is included in that category.

You laugh softly and tuck your head against his chest. You can feel it—his heartbeat, steady and warm, his arms tightening just enough around you like he doesn’t want to let go. Like the future has started to take shape already, quietly wrapping itself around the two of you.

You raise a brow. “How couldn’t I? Even if I didn’t, my husband would do it for me anyway.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, nose brushing against yours. “Good. It only took ten years for you to surrender.”

“Mm. I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let you have that.”

There’s a beat of soft silence. Your cheek rests against his, his hand over your belly even though there’s nothing to feel yet. Just the idea of it. The weightless beginning.

And then—

Serena flips her book shut with a dramatic thwack and scrambles onto the couch, wedging herself between you like she’s been summoned by the gods of mischief.

“Can I name the baby?” she asks brightly, eyes shining the same way as Zayne’s.

Zayne blinks. “Absolutely not.”

“Yes,” you say at the same time.

He sighs. “We're doomed.”

You smile into his shoulder, heart full.

Not exactly the plan.

But exactly right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The room is dim and cool, the hum of the monitor the only sound for a moment as the ultrasound tech moves the wand across your belly.

Zayne’s holding your hand, thumb brushing absent-mindedly over your knuckles. You’re focused on the screen, trying to make sense of the blur of black-and-white shapes when the tech tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“Hm.”

Your heart stutters. “Hm what?”

She smiles, calm. “I’m just adjusting the view... ah, there we go.”

She taps the screen.

“You see this? That’s the baby.”

You nod slowly, relief softening your breath.

Then she shifts the wand slightly. “And that… is baby number two.”

Your brain blanks.

Zayne blinks. “I’m sorry. Two?”

The doctor grins. “Congratulations. You’re having twins.”

There's a beat. Then Zayne turns to you, slow, like the movement is physically difficult.

You’re already staring straight ahead, mouth slightly open. “Rose cursed us.”

He lets out a stunned, breathless laugh. “Blessed,” he corrects automatically, dazed.

You turn to him with a look. “Yes… bless,” you echo flatly.

The doctor tries not to laugh, adjusting the image again. “They’re both looking healthy. Strong heartbeats. Congrats again, Mom and Dad.”

Zayne leans forward slightly, eyes locked on the screen now. You feel his hand squeeze yours tighter, but it’s not panic—just awe.

“…Two of them,” he murmurs.

“Double everything,” you whisper. “Double diapers. Double crying.”

He’s already smiling now. “Double the love.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Serena is lying on her stomach, coloring a lopsided rainbow on the living room floor. You and Zayne sit across from her, your phone ready with a grainy printout from the scan.

“Okay, sweetie,” you start carefully. “Remember how we said Mummy has a seed growing in her belly?”

She nods seriously. “It’s gonna be a baby. I know.”

“Well…” Zayne says, nudging the printout her way. “Turns out, there’s two seeds.”

Her eyes go wide.

You grin. “Which means two babies. Like Willow and Jace.”

She gasps dramatically, hands flying to her cheeks. She whispers. “Two fruit?”

Zayne chuckles. “Exactly.”

Serena stares at your belly like she’s trying to x-ray vision through your shirt. “Your belly gonna be extra big. Like what Auntie Rose say before?”

“Yes. And thanks, honey,” you mutter, patting her head while Zayne snorts.

She beams. “It’s okay. I’ll help take care of them. I’ll be a big sister times two!”

You smile, heart swelling, as she scoots closer and presses her ear against your stomach like she’s trying to hear a secret.

“They’re talking,” she says solemnly. “One said I want cookies.”

“That one’s definitely yours,” you tell Zayne.

He leans back, lips twitching. “Smart already.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

Since I already did a planned pregnancy announcement before, I thought this angle would make sense—especially because, well, it is a surprise after all! Hope y’all enjoy! 💕

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

Although if you missed the Newlyweds series! Here How it all happen And also the Pregnancy series, starting with Try For Baby

[burning-academia-if]

I'm so sorry for all the notifications lmao I'm going around liking every ask because i haven't been on the page for a bit. And why the fuck is all the asks making me like Lars. I don't want to like Lara because Lara doesn't want to like my MC.. i already have enough problems with Rook 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I need to stay away from these problematic ROs. 😭

Oh quessssstiiioooon someone's probably asked this before but I've seen it on a few blogs. But since magic is obvs a thing. If someone cursed MC or gave them something that could only be broken by true love's kiss (especially since mc doesn't really have the healthiest relationship with those they are close to so who would think they could break a spell like that)

and it's after they've confessed to the ROs. How would they react to MC not waking up at first after they kissed them... but waking up after they've started having a major meltdown after all?

If you have gotten this ask could i please have a link because finding anything on tumblr is... 😒

And i literally fall in love with this goddamn IF every time i read anything on this page. It's a curse in itself... I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤣😇💜

Omg never apologize for mass liking, that's literally anyone on Tumblr's lifeblood lol

Also you know, I feel like Lars, despite being the biggest asshole of the ROs, is still less of a handful then Rook lmfaO good luck with dealing with them!

Also I have not been asked this one before! Felt very inspired it with, so I turned it into a prompt!

Rook:

            You’re so still against the touch of his lips. You’re still even after he pulls away. His chest buzzes so loud it echoes in his ears. You don’t move, not even the flutter of your lashes and he should have known. How can he be your true love, when he spent so many years running away?

            Whoever it is, would look you in the eyes when you said you loved them. They’re someone who would have taken you in their arms instead of turning away again and again. He sinks to his knees, hands clutching at the side of the bed where you lay. Tears burn at his eyes, but not a single one falls.

            Even before he made this foolish decision, he knew. All that’s left is to find the one could wake up. If you’re life lays in the hands of someone else, a fact he always knew, then so be it.

            He’ll let you go, like he should have so long ago. He will. He just needs another moment here with you before he turns away. He needs to hear your heartbeat and the cadence of your breathing for one last time.

            Time passes as slow as honey, thick and opaque. His body is listless. In the silence, your breath catches and he blinks. Turns. You take another shaky breath, and when your eyes open, he’s on his feet.

            “MC!” He gathers you in his arms, holding on tight. “Oh, thank god. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

            His forehead falls against your shoulder, and the tears finally fall. Your awake, your body is warm. And maybe, just maybe, he really does have a chance to make things right.

Beck:

            When you don’t move after he pulls away, he doesn’t waver. Magic is strange, it can effect everyone differently, and with how much magic has affected you, he isn’t concerned that there isn’t an immediate response.

            Instead, he takes a seat next to where you lay. He brings his knees up to his chest and tells you about all the things you’ve missed. The first flowers of spring, the new used bookstore that opened up on the corner, school events, and class drama.

            The time ticks down, and it pricks at his heart. He keeps talking. About himself, about his life, about how he first fell for you, about how you are the warmth of the fire on a winter day, and if even if he isn’t your true love, then that’s ok. He’s just so glad he was able to have any time with you at all.

            At some point, his throat is dry and he’s run out of words. What can he say, as the sky turns a dusty orange. He swallows, eyes fluttering closed and feel the first of the tears fall. If it isn’t him to wake you up, then who will it be? And how long will you be cursed to sleep until they find you?

            A world without your laugh is far worse than a world where the two of you aren’t meant to be.

            Then.

            You shift beside him, and he goes still. When he looks, he sees your eyes flutter open, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him.

            “…You’re awake.” He says, voice barely above a whisper. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, so impossibly gently. “You’re awake.”

            He laughs, a watery, trembly sort of laugh, as he runs a thumb against your cheek. You’ll still be with him.

Rhea:

            “Please wake up.” She whispers, kneeling next to you. There is no sign the kiss did anything. It’s fine, this isn’t the end of the world. She has had the logic of magic seared into her brain, and she knows how it works. She’ll wait. She can wait.

            But still, you remain still. She gets up and moves around, to give her body something to do as she waits. She’s not good at that, waiting. She always needs to be in the midst of doing something. Making progress. When something’s out of her hands like this, she feels like she’s in freefall.

            There might be a chance, she thinks as time ticks by, that you and her aren’t the ones for each other. Somehow, it makes the anxious energy in her gut easier to deal with. As long as she doesn’t think of the heartbreak that will hit the moment she leaves your side, it gives her a plan. Something to work towards. Steps to map out to figure out where to go from here and how to wake you up. The process of even finding the one who could do so.

            She’s on step four when your fingers twitch. She goes still in response. All her thoughts scatter. Like a deer in headlights she watches you, wondering if it was just her imagination. But then your body shifts and she’s next to you again, softly calling your name.

            “MC? Can you…can you hear me darling?” When you blink away, she feels a smile bloom despite herself. You’re awake and well and still hers.

Zoe:

            There’s doubt in their chest even before they press a kiss against your lips. For it to be them? They’re not the kind of person who makes it into fairytales. They know this. Stories are the sort of thing they’ve studied their entire life. They exist on the other side of the glass, able to peer in but never able to be.

            As you remain still, they stand and lean back on their heel. Whoever your true love is, it isn’t them. It isn’t that they doubt your love, but it’s hard to imagine that kind of forever for them. If this was the fate they were dealt, then so be it. And even so, you were their first love, and that’s a kind of special whatever comes next can’t take away. Even on different paths, even living different lives, you can both still be a fond memory for the other.

            But god, they’ve never experience heartbreak either or the way it collides into their body and leaves them breathless. They wanted this. Every moment with you was a dream they never thought they’d get a chance to see. They were awkward and clumsy, and they were the luckiest person alive to have been able to met you.

            They press a hand against their mouth, to stop the sob that’s trying to break through them. The image of you blurs as tears collect in their eyes and stream down their cheeks. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying to collect themselves.

            It’s why it startles them, when they feel a hand reaching out, “…Zoe?”

            They choke on a gasp, eyes flying open to see you awake. You’ve pulled yourself up, and your eyes are open. It strikes them so suddenly, they all but throw themselves against you. Any embarrassment they used to feel is gone. They’ll never let themselves hesitate again.

Lars:

            “You would get yourself cursed.” He whispered against your lips as he pulls away. He doesn’t believe in true love or soulmates. For a curse to be based on the concept, it must make it the flimsiest curse to have been made. All it really needs is love and faith and stubbornness. Maybe his faith is lacking, but he sure as hell can make up for it with stubbornness.

            So he waits. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and wonders how long it will take. His hand toys with your fingers absently. With you asleep, you won’t be able to comment on the display. He still remembers when you said you loved him, the look in your eyes that left no room for doubt. He thought you were making a terrible decision, but he wasn’t one to complain. Your terrible decision, just lead to his great decision to go along with it.

            The time passes slow, but the anxiety never comes. That isn’t who he is. Not when he’s sure about this, or at least more sure about it then whatever magic was used on you. And even if the kiss doesn’t wake you up, he’ll just find whoever cursed you in the first place and make them reap the consequences.

            When he feels your hand move, slipping your fingers between his, he sighs, “About time you got up.”

            “Lars? My hand—”

            “Don’t get used to it.” You laugh, the sound scratchy from sleep, and he feels his body relax. It was nice to have you back.

???:

            They know your souls are too entwined to have a doubt. That doesn’t not mean there won’t be blood on their hands for what was done to you. How dare someone curse the one they love. How dare someone put their hands on you.

            They’re kiss is so painfully soft despite the violent rage in their chest. It’s been so long since they’ve felt this burning under their skin. Did the Curse Giver think you were alone and unloved? Did they not realize you had someone who was entwined with you in every way, down to the way you take a breath.

            The wraiths flicker around them, agitated by the tremble in their body. They keep close to you, body curved as a way to shield you from the rest of the earth. If you don’t wake soon, they’re hands will find a blade, and that blade will find a body. The wraiths whisper amongst each other, as though capable of soothing them.

            “But you were cursed even before this, weren’t you?” They breathe, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You shift beneath them, and when they pull away you open your eyes.

            You say their name, and the sound of it wraps around them. They have a Curse Giver to kill, but for now, they only lay down beside you, and ask if you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for so long, and it took too long to get to you. They’ll never be late again.