#itsblarg

It’s been five weeks since you last saw Max. You’ve both been missing each other deeply. When strange symptoms and late nights of nausea hit you hard in San Francisco, you chalk it up to stress. But a joking comment from Max turns into reality—and your world shifts completely. - The Neighbourhood , Staying Up

Pezzy x Reader , mentions of other steamers

Warnings: Pregnancy, mild language, comfort, found family, fluff, emotional moments.

The Neighbourhood Lyrics Masterlist - ⌂

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, the blue light of your laptop glowing on your face. It’s nearly 1 a.m. in San Francisco, and for the fifth night in a row, you feel like crap.

Your stomach twists. Your throat’s sore. You’re tired, nauseous, and not entirely sure why—until the FaceTime screen flashes and your heart leaps at the name.

MaxTheCat is calling…

You answer with a groggy smile. “Hey, Max”

He lights up at the sight of you, messy hair and all. “Hey you. Damn, you look like a zombie.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, rubbing your temple. “I feel like one.”

His brow creases. “Still sick?”

You nod. “Yeah… every night, I’m sick and I don’t know why.”

He pauses for a beat, then lets out a laugh. “Maybe you’re pregnant or something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying!” He throws his hands up. “That’d explain the mood swings and the fact you said ‘I miss you’ four times yesterday.”

You try to laugh it off, but something twists in your stomach—more nerves than nausea now. “You think I should… test?”

He goes quiet. “Wait. Are we—like, could we actually be?”

You both just stare at each other, the possibility suddenly becoming terrifyingly real.

Three Days Later

You’re staring down at a stick. Two pink lines. Not one.

You sit on the bathroom floor in your tiny San Francisco apartment, knees pulled to your chest.

Then you pick up your phone, looking for your longtime boyfriend’s name.

After 2 rings, he picks up the phone but before he could say anything you beat him to the punch “Max?”

His voice crackles through. “What’s up, beautiful?”

You take a breath. “You were right.”

There’s silence. Then: “Wait. You’re serious?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Six Months Later – Texas

The warm Texas sun dipped low in the sky, casting gold light through yours and Max’s living room windows as you stood back and watched pure chaos unfold in slow motion.

Grizzy was sitting on the floor surrounded by tools for a changing table, staring at the instructions, “who the hell made this so complicated to understand?”

“I think you just slow there man,” Droid offered, half-laughing, half-panicking as a paint can almost exploded on him as he was opening it.

“Jesus Christ!” Droid shouted, hands flying up.

“I told you not to pry it open like that dumbass!” Puffer called from the kitchen, holding a bottle of water, handing it to you.

You sat on the couch, hand on your belly as Olivia kicked softly inside. The boys had insisted on helping build Olivia’s nursery and decorating it. now that it was getting closer to the date and secretly didn’t want you nor Max to worry about it. Max’s mom had sent him some heirloom stuff and even his old baby stuff to add.

“Why didn’t we just pay someone to build this shit?” Grizzy grumbled again, staring at the pile of sad, scattered pieces on the floor.

“Because we’re not millionaires,” Smii7y mumbled under his breath, taping a paper “Baby Pez” banner to the wall.

The room fell silent.

Seven heads turned in unison.

Smii7y blinked, “wot?”

“You literally own a house and rent an apartment, bro,” Pezzy said slowly.

“You flew us first-class to Vegas because you ‘were bored,’” Droid added.

“You accidentally bought a second gaming PC because you forgot you already had one,” Puffer said, smirking.

Smii7y shrugged. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wanna pay for someone to build something.”

You let out a laugh, the first full one in days, hand on your belly. “This baby is going to have the weirdest, best set of uncles.”

Max came over, pulling you gently to your feet. “You say weird like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m pretty sure our daughter’s first word is gonna be ‘Puffer,’ and I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared for that.”

“I hope it’s ‘Grizzy,’” Grizzy piped up, holding up a screw like it was a microphone. “I’ve already accepted the role of favorite.”

Max leaned in and kissed your temple. “She’s gonna love all of you. But mostly you.”

Hospital Room

The room was warm and buzzing, voices low and awed as the boys took turns peeking into the clear hospital bassinet where Olivia slept peacefully — for now.

“She’s got a whole head of hair already,” Grizzy whispered, peering in like he was inspecting a rare artifact. “Bet she came out with a skincare routine too.”

“She’s literally glowing,” Droid added, crossing his arms. “Like she knows she’s a star.”

Smii7y tilted his head, squinting. “I feel like she’s judging me.”

“She should be,” Blarg chimed in from the corner, cradling a juice box he’d stolen from the nurse’s station. “You said you wouldn’t cry, and you did cry.”

“Those lights are bright,” Smii7y argued, blinking dramatically. “Could’ve been allergies.”

“Sure, man,” Droid muttered, grinning. “Definitely wasn’t your voice crackin’ when she opened her eyes.”

Amid all the noise and teasing, you and Max sat side-by-side, your shoulders touching as he rested a hand gently over your wrist. Olivia had just fallen asleep again after her first bottle, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Then the chaos paused. Not because anyone said anything — but because Chris, hasn’t said anything.

Infact Chris was quiet.

Too quiet.

You all turned to look.

Puffer was standing beside the bassinet, eyes locked on Olivia like the world had narrowed to just that single moment. His bottom lip quivered just slightly, his brows furrowed in a way you’d never seen. He looked… soft. Lost. Reverent.

“Puff?” Max said, cautiously.

Puffer didn’t respond. He reached down instead, arms open, waiting for a nod from you.

You nodded gently. “Go ahead.”

He scooped Olivia up with a kind of care you wouldn’t expect from a guy who raged at Uno. His arms cradled her like instinct — like he’d held a hundred babies, even though you were pretty sure this was his first.

And then she started to fuss. A soft whimper at first, growing louder. Her nose wrinkled, her lip wobbled.

“C’mon, Liv, don’t start—” Puffer whispered.

But then—like magic—she stopped.

Everyone blinked.

Grizzy pointed. “Yo.”

“She stopped crying,” Droid murmured.

“In his arms?” Blarg looked offended.

“Is she broken?” Smii7y asked. “Or is he some kind of baby whisperer?”

“She’s got a favorite already,” Max muttered, mock-offended.

You smiled. “Uncle Puff.”

Chris looked up, and yeah—his eyes were glassy now.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, bro,” he said with a watery laugh. “She’s just… she’s real, man. Like our baby. Like she belongs to all of us.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Then everyone, everyone, started tearing up.

Smii7y was the first to break the silence. “Okay, who gave him the main character arc?”

“You’re just mad she didn’t stop crying for you,” Droid fired back.

“Watch your mouth,” Puffer mumbled, bouncing Olivia gently. “She’s sensitive.”

You leaned into Max, laughing softly through your own tears. He wrapped an arm around you, eyes never leaving the sight of Puffer and Olivia.

“She’s got the weirdest family,” you whispered.

“But the best one,” he replied. “Hands down.”

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