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MidReal Story
A Boy Named Sean
Scenario:Josh is a 20 year old Filipino boy who sometimes streams on tiktok as you_cw Josh is currently 10 weeks pregnant. Josh sometimes rates roblox avatars or plays dollhouse on roblox and ragebaites. He streams by himself and lives by himself. He never knew the baby's father
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Josh
and selfconscious. Josh recently discovered he is 10 weeks pregnant, a surprise given his lack of a partner. He struggles with the news, feeling judged by others and grappling with his emotions. Josh enjoys playing Roblox and creating content, often streaming by himself. His grandmother supports him, while he navigates this unexpected pregnancy alone.
Grandma
and supportive. Grandma raised Josh after his parents left when he was a baby. She continues to care for him, even as he navigates the challenges of being a pregnant teenager. She encourages Josh to embrace fatherhood and stands by him, showing no judgment or surprise at the situation. Her presence is a source of comfort for Josh as he deals with his emotions.
Unnamed Father
I am Josh, a 20yearold Filipino artist who sometimes streams on tiktok.
I am currently 10 weeks pregnant.
I never had a partner and I do not know the baby's father.
I have been living with my grandma since I was a baby.
She knows the father of my child, but she never told me.
I found out I was pregnant last week.
I have been rating roblox avatars or playing dollhouse on roblox and ragebaiting other users since I found out I was pregnant.
I do not know what to do or how to feel about being pregnant.
I am happy to have a solo stream on tiktok where I can talk about my feelings and thoughts.
However, I am also scared of what people will think and say when they find out I am pregnant.
I am grateful for my grandma who has always been supportive and understanding.
I do not know what I would do without her.
If you would like to hear more about my story, please let me know in the comments.
Thank you for watching and listening to my stream today.
I set up my phone camera in my usual spot by the window, where the afternoon light softens my features.
Opening Roblox, I scroll through the avatars submitted by my viewers for today's stream.
The chat starts popping up with messages from regulars, asking why I haven't been active lately.
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, and I quickly divert their attention to the first avatar submission.
"Wow, this one is so flashy! Love the neon accessories and the animation pack. Very trendy."
Another message pops up, mentioning that I look tired.
"Josh, you should tell them," my grandma's voice suddenly cuts through the room, startling me.
"Tell them what, Grandma?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady as my heart races.
"The truth about your father and how it connects to your baby," she replies, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and urgency.
I mute my stream audio and turn to face her, my hands trembling on the mouse.
"Not now," I whisper firmly, though my voice cracks.
She lingers in the doorway, her expression heavy with something unsaid.
The chat floods with questions about what she mentioned.
I force a smile and unmute, telling viewers my grandmother just needs her medication.
"Rating this avatar a 7/10," I say quickly, clicking through more submissions.
My stomach churns as I read comments speculating about my father.
Needing a distraction from the chat's wild theories, I grab a banana from my desk drawer where I've been stashing snacks lately.
The fruit's strong smell suddenly hits me, making my already queasy stomach churn.
I peel it slowly, hands still trembling from Grandma's intrusion.
The chat continues scrolling with speculation, but I force myself to take a small bite, hoping the simple action will ground me.
My viewers comment on my unusual mid-stream snack, noticing how I've been eating more frequently.
"Josh, you can't keep running from this," Grandma insists, her voice softer but resolute.
"Why now, Grandma? Why didn't you tell me before?" I ask, my frustration barely contained.
"Because I was trying to protect you from the truth that even I struggled to accept," she admits, her eyes glistening with tears.
I pack the last of my clothes into a duffel bag while Grandma stands silently in my doorway.
After last night's stream, I couldn't stay here anymore, not with her secrets hanging between us like a challenge.
My hands tremble as I stuff my streaming equipment into my backpack.
She tries to stop me, reaching for my arm, but I pull away.
The pregnancy makes my movements slower, more deliberate.
Across Manila, in my new studio apartment, I set up my laptop on a cardboard box.
The bare walls and empty space feel safer than home.
I take a deep breath, ready to face whatever comes next.
Sitting on my new apartment's floor, I lean against the bare wall and stare at my laptop screen.
The emptiness of the room amplifies my loneliness.
My hand instinctively moves to my slightly swollen belly - a habit I've developed since learning about the pregnancy.
The cold floor and dim lighting remind me this isn't home, but I can't face Grandma's secrets anymore.
I boot up Roblox, planning to stream some ragebaits to distract myself.
As I wait for the game to load, I notice my reflection in the dark screen - tired eyes, messy hair, and my hand still resting protectively on my stomach.
I close the laptop, realizing it's time to confront the truth I've been avoiding.
I sit cross-legged on my mattress, the laptop on a stack of books in front of me.
I plug in my microphone and webcam, ready to stream.
The chat notifications pop up as soon as I go live, and my regular viewers ask where I've been and why I'm streaming from a different background.
I force a smile and open Roblox, telling them I just needed a change of scenery.
As I rate a sparkly princess avatar, my hand moves to my stomach again, but I quickly pull it away.
Opening my desk drawer for a snack, I realize it's empty - another thing I forgot to bring from Grandma's.
Explaining my pregnancy to them feels like a weight on my throat, so I focus on the game instead.
I set up my streaming equipment on the wobbly folding table I bought yesterday.
The table is too small, but it's better than streaming from the floor.
I position my laptop so the bare walls of my studio apartment aren't visible behind me.
My viewers have been requesting Minecraft lately, so I download a horror mod pack.
I hope the game's darkness will hide how exhausted I look.
As I create a new world, my stomach churns - morning sickness hitting at night again.
I open a new world and spawn in a dark cave system.
The chat fills with comments about my pale face and how I look like I'm going to die.
I explore the cave system, jumping at every little sound effect.
When a zombie jumps out at me, I flinch hard and knock over my water bottle.
The liquid seeps into my mousepad while I scramble to clean it up.
"Are you okay?" a viewer named PixelWarrior types in the chat, concern evident even through the screen.
I hesitate, then type back, "Just clumsy tonight, but thanks for asking."
Another message pops up from a user called LunaLovesGames: "We miss your old streams with Grandma. Is everything alright?"
I lean back in my chair, trying to ignore the growing discomfort in my stomach.
I open Roblox and join a new game, telling the chat I'm going to do some avatar rating.
My nose starts running, and I wipe it with my sleeve, pretending I'm just adjusting my mic.
The chat notices when I sniffle a few times.
"Allergies," I type quickly, though my throat feels scratchy and my head is starting to ache.
Between rating avatars, I touch my belly anxiously again.
Being sick while pregnant is the last thing I need right now.
Another wave of sniffles hits me, and I turn away from the camera for a moment, hoping they think it's just allergies.
The bare walls of my studio apartment seem even emptier as I fight back a cough.
Finally, when I can't stop coughing, I end the stream abruptly.
I curl up on my mattress between coughing fits, barely able to keep my eyes open.
The laptop is still open on the floor, the stream cut short and my viewers confused.
My throat burns raw, and my nose won't stop running despite the mountain of tissues beside me.
When another wave of nausea hits, I grab the trash bin just in time.
"Fuck," I groan, rubbing my swollen belly.
The baby rolls and kicks with a vigor that only intensifies my discomfort, as if sensing my distress and responding with its own restless energy.
With no medicine I can safely take and no Grandma to help, I've never felt more alone.
I sit cross-legged on my mattress, my laptop open in front of me for a casual TikTok stream.
It's been a while since I've shown my face, but now that I'm 30 weeks pregnant, I'm comfortable enough to let my viewers see my belly.
Someone asks to see it, and I lift my shirt without hesitation, revealing the roundness of my stomach.
The chat explodes with comments about how cute it is.
But then someone notices something else - a small star tattoo near my belly button.
The sight of it brings back memories of that summer when I turned 18.
I snuck out of the house at midnight to get the tattoo, feeling rebellious and free.
"Isn't that the same tattoo your grandma had?" a user named StarryEyes types, their curiosity palpable.
I pause, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back, "Yeah, she got it when she was my age too."
LunaLovesGames chimes in, "She must've been so cool! Do you think she'd be excited about the baby?"
While I'm streaming Roblox from my mattress on the floor, I notice the baby moving more than usual.
The chat fills with comments about how tired I look and questions about my new apartment.
I try to focus on rating a sparkly avatar when a distinct flutter in my belly catches me off guard.
Without thinking, I press my hand against the spot, forgetting I'm on camera.
The movement becomes stronger - an unmistakable kick.
My eyes widen at the sensation, and the words slip out naturally as I look down at my stomach.
"What is it, sweetie?"
A message pops up from StarryEyes: "Maybe the baby wants to say hi to Grandma."
I hesitate, feeling a lump in my throat, and reply, "I wish she could meet them."
LunaLovesGames adds softly, "She's watching over you both, I'm sure of it."
I lean back against the wall on my mattress, closing Roblox mid-stream.
The chat erupts with confused messages from my viewers.
"Let's do something different today," I say, adjusting my position as the baby shifts inside me.
"You can ask me about the pregnancy."
Questions flood in immediately - about my symptoms, the baby's movements, my plans for the future.
I answer carefully, avoiding any mentions of the father or Grandma.
When someone asks about my recent move, I touch my belly and steer them towards safer topics.
The baby kicks hard against my palm, making me wince visibly on camera.
During my Roblox stream, I notice the comment about pregnant people touching their bellies.
My hand automatically moves to my stomach as I read it, feeling the familiar curve beneath my shirt.
The baby shifts position again, making me wince mid-sentence while rating a sparkly avatar.
I try explaining to chat how strange yet comforting it feels having another person growing inside me.
When the baby kicks hard against my palm, I can't help but smile, forgetting my usual guardedness.
I end the stream with a quiet promise to my unborn child: "I'll make sure you know her stories."
I set up my phone on a makeshift stand outside my apartment building, angling it to catch the morning light.
The run-down surroundings are hidden from view, and my 30-week belly shows clearly through my thin shirt as I adjust the camera.
A neighbor walks past, giving me a strange look that makes me second-guess this outdoor stream.
Still, I press the "Go Live" button and watch viewers join.
The familiar usernames appear - StarryEyes, LunaLovesGames - asking about the change in setting.
I adjust the phone slightly, letting the morning breeze ruffle my hair.
"It's nice to be outside," I say, smiling genuinely.
The fresh air feels good after being cooped up in my stuffy studio apartment.
Another neighbor walks past with a disapproving look at my pregnant belly, and I shift the camera angle higher, focusing on my face.
"Why don't you ever talk about the father?" StarryEyes types, breaking the flow of light-hearted questions.
I hesitate, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.
"It's complicated," I reply softly, my voice barely above a whisper, "but maybe it's time I finally tell you all the truth."
I fidget with the phone's position against the building wall, stalling as comments flood in about the father.
The morning sun feels too bright, exposing.
Taking a deep deep breath, I lean closer to the camera and lower my voice.
"I got really drunk one night," I start, my fingers drumming against my knee.
"I don't... I don't actually know who the father is."
The chat explodes with reactions - shocked emojis and questions flooding in.
A passing neighbor's footsteps make me jump, and I quickly pretend to be focused on opening Roblox.
StarryEyes types a string of sad emojis while LunaLovesGames asks if that's why I left Grandma's.
I nod, feeling the weight of my secret lift slightly, as I whisper, "Yes, but it's time to start fresh."
During my Roblox stream, I feel the first tight squeeze across my belly.
I keep my tone casual, rating a glittery avatar as "kind of cool," while internally trying to gauge the intensity of the sensation.
The squeeze builds slowly, making my breath catch, and I mask it by coughing lightly.
I shift in my chair, hoping to find a more comfortable position without alerting my viewers.
StarryEyes comments that my ratings seem distracted today, but I force myself to continue normally, gripping the edge of my desk during each wave.
While rating a Roblox avatar through my pain, a notification pops up that user GamerBoy98 wants to join my stream as a guest.
I hesitate, remembering Grandma's warnings about stranger danger, but accept to distract myself from the contractions.
His voice is deep and friendly as he compliments my streams.
We play Dollhouse together, him building while I try to hide my discomfort.
When he asks about meeting up to game in person, my stomach tightens - both from the baby and sudden unease.
During a break in our Dollhouse building, I ask him about his age while breathing through another contraction.
He says he's 22, his voice crackling through my cheap speakers.
The pain in my belly intensifies, making me grip the chair tighter, but I try to keep my voice steady.
My viewers flood the chat with comments about how close in age we are.
When he suggests meeting at a local gaming cafe tomorrow, I notice my hands trembling on the keyboard.
I try to focus on our Dollhouse game, but the contractions make my hands shake as I type.
He asks about my ethnicity, and I hesitate before mentioning I'm Filipino.
His response makes my heart stop - "annyeonghaseyo" followed by him revealing he's half Korean, half Filipino.
The pain momentarily fades as memories of Grandma's hints about my father flood back.
My regular viewers in chat notice the connection immediately, their messages flying past.
Through waves of contractions, I stare at GamerBoy98's profile picture - a star tattoo visible on his arm.
My hands shake more as I remember Grandma's matching tattoo, the one she got when she was 18, the same one I got on my 18th birthday.
The chat floods with messages connecting the dots.
Another contraction hits, and I accidentally unmute my microphone, letting out a pained gasp.
"Are you okay?"
GamerBoy98's voice comes through my speakers again, this time with an accent that sounds just like Grandma's.
I end the stream immediately, my finger hovering over the block button.
I adjust my phone camera, the one I use for live streams, while Mona sleeps peacefully in her carrier next to me.
My hands still shake a bit, just like they did the day she was born and everything changed.
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and start the stream.
The chat fills immediately with cooing reactions at Mona's tiny face.
I take a moment to adjust the camera, making sure it's at the right angle to capture both of us.
Mona stirs a bit in her carrier but doesn't wake up.
"Hey everyone," I say softly, trying not to jolt her awake.
"I know it's been a while since I last streamed. A lot has happened since then."
The chat fills with comments about how much they've missed me and how cute Mona is.
I smile a little, feeling a mix of emotions.
"I want to tell you all what happened," I continue, "but first, there's someone I want you all to meet."
I gesture off-camera, and a figure steps into view. It's Ash, the person who used to go by GamerBoy98 during our Dollhouse games.
He sits down next to me on the couch and gently touches Mona's cheek.
The chat immediately fills with shocked reactions and recognition as people realize who he is.
"Remember GamerBoy98 from my last stream?"
I ask the chat, my voice steady despite the nerves I'm feeling.
"Well, after Mona was born, I went back to the hospital for some tests. That's where we met again."
Ash hands me a cup of coffee and sits down next to me, careful not to wake Mona.
I take a sip of the coffee, grateful for the warmth and the caffeine.
The chat starts asking questions about Mona's father, and I hesitate before answering.
"Well, it's a little complicated," I say softly.
"But he's not in the picture right now."
The chat fills with sympathetic reactions, and Ash puts his hand on my lower back.
I take another sip of my coffee, trying to gather my thoughts.
"So, how did you two meet again?"
Someone asks in chat, and I smile a little.
"Well, Ash recognized me from my stream," I explain.
"He was visiting his sister at the hospital and saw me there. He came to talk to me after recognizing me as the streamer who disappeared mid-game."
The chat fills with reactions of surprise and curiosity. "And then what happened?"
Someone asks, and Ash squeezes my shoulder gently.
"Well, he started visiting me every day after that," I continue.
"He'd bring me food or coffee, and we'd talk for a while. He even helped me with some of the baby stuff when I got out of the hospital."
The chat fills with comments about how sweet that is, and Ash smiles a little.
"And then three days after Mona was born, he asked me out on a date," I say softly.
"He helped me change her diaper first, though."
The chat fills with reactions of shock and delight, and Ash leans over to kiss my cheek gently.
"Sorry everyone," he says softly into the camera.
"I'm not much of a streamer myself. But I couldn't resist asking her out after seeing her stream."
The chat fills with comments about how cute that is, and I smile a little.
Mona stirs in her carrier again, and this time she wakes up with a small cry.
Ash immediately reaches for her, gently lifting her out of her carrier and cradling her in his arms.
I lean back against him on our worn couch, feeling the warmth of his body behind me.
He reaches for a bottle on the table next to us and starts feeding Mona, his movements gentle and careful.
The chat fills with heart eyes and comments about how cute it is.
"Last week, she had colic and wouldn't stop crying," I explain softly to the chat.
"He stayed up all night helping me calm her down."
When Mona finishes eating, Ash gently burps her while humming a lullaby his mom taught him.
The tenderness in his actions makes my chest tight.
Without thinking, I blurt out to the chat, "I love him so much."
Ash freezes mid-pat, and then turns to me with wide eyes.
While the stream is still on, I lean over to adjust the blanket covering Mona, who's sleeping in her carrier next to me.
I whisper "saranghae" without thinking, and Ash freezes.
I look at him confused, and he immediately switches to "mahal kita."
His accent is perfect, just like a Filipino native speaker.
The mix of Korean and Filipino hits me hard - it's exactly how Grandma speaks.
My hands start shaking as I remember her hints about my father being half-Korean.
The chat explodes with theories, but I can't focus on their messages.
Ash looks at me, his eyes searching mine.
"Did your grandma ever mention anything about your dad's side of the family?" he asks softly.
I nod slowly, my mind racing. "She always said he was a mystery, but she hinted at him being part Korean."
