RickyHorrorFanClub

-contains mpreg- Ricky’s POV It was quiet. I was alone for the first time in a while. But, I wasn’t really alone, really. I had the baby with me. In me. My little cutie. I was knitting. It was surprisingly peaceful and rhythmic. I listened to the metal knitting needles click together after I pulled the yarn between them, and the swiping noise after every stitch was moved from one needle to the next. I imagined my baby, my son or daughter, developing the same way - each little stitch a single cell of a new life. Chris was the yarn and I, the needles. He walked into the bedroom and curled up into my side, sliding his hand under t

It got pretty quiet after that. Half the guys were in their bunks and half the guys were hanging out in the main area. After Leah moved, I got into my bunk. I was casually not eating again; I was too wound up for food. “Hey, Rebel, mind if I join?” Without waiting for a reply, stank-ass Ricky climbed into my bunk and basically forced me into cuddling with him. He was too warm, he was sweaty, and he was eating pizza. Ew, ew, and ew. “Can you not?” I asked, trying to get as far away from him as possible. He didn’t notice. “Not really. Gotta make sure you don’t go anywhere,” he grinned at me and

Usually, I took freakishly short showers, but today was not one of those days. At least, I tried my hardest to not shower at, like, mach three, but even just standing there for a while, I only took like, eight minutes. Holy hell. I got out and dressed in a black MIW shirt - the one with the skeleton hand flippin the bird - and a pair of black faux leather jeggings. I pulled on the same hot pink ballet socks from yesterday, sighed, and looked in the mirror. Man, I looked like hell, but I hadn’t brought in my makeup bag or anything, and I didn’t know if I could use anyone else’s stuff or not. Nah, today was a bareface kind of

I walked back onto the tour bus and sat down on my bunk, then pulled the curtain closed. It was completely dark in there now, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t want to deal with them. I put on my headphones so I couldn’t hear anything and just zoned out. I was mad at pretty much everyone, and I wasn’t just going to “be an adult” and passively ignore my anger. Hell, no. I put on Miss May I’s Monument album and started jamming out just by myself. Screw everyone else. About halfway through, though, Leah yanked the curtain back. I blinked up at her and pulled out my headphones. “What is this I hear abou