#Pregnant Clause

[inkskinned]

i was raised by a catholic deacon so as a kid - maybe ages 7 to 14 - i would have told you that abortion was only okay in exception cases like rape. i didn't even really understand any of the terms at play here, only how to parrot that there were "few and far between" exceptions, but abortion-as-a-whole was irresponsible and evil. i believed it was a bad form of birth control.

for context's sake - i still had a flip phone. google wasn't really a thing back then. the whole narrative was akin to the apostle's creed: i don't know that i ever thought about what the words meant, only that this was what i was supposed to say when asked. i remember being in 4th grade and having it down pat - abortion is evil, except in cases such as rape. my father wasn't insensitive, after all - he acknowledged there might be medical necessity to end a life.

what changed was that at 14 i learned how hard it is to prove that a rape has happened.

it was a boy, actually. and his piano teacher. and him telling me, crying, that nobody believed him that he didn't want it. and what if she gets pregnant?

this is the mark in a lot of our lives: at some point, someone will confide in you, and then you see exactly how often it happens. how it happens so fucking loudly, and nobody says anything. how often your friends, nervous, will shakily admit that while they love their partner, there are a few times that they didn't really consent, that they didn't really want it. for others, there are nights half-remembered in bars. for others, they married their partner at 15, so now it's "fine", legally. for others, there are yes moments that felt like a no. there were no moments that were never acknowledged. you say no but are told you actually said yes because of what you were wearing or because he is good at swimming and his life would be ruined or because he's a nice guy or -

in the last 8 years, my father has become radicalized. he now believes in "no exceptions".

but the truth is that there was never going to be a true "exception" clause. there was never going to be a grey area. i am not even really sure they believe in the concept of rape. and if they did - how would you ever prove it? in the six weeks you have to state your case - when it takes years in a court of law - the "rape exception" would simply evaporate under the continued pregnancy. you were never going to have a moment where you could privately tell a doctor - it's because of a rape. there was no box you could check. there was no form you could file. it was always going to be assumed consensual until proven malignant. it was always going to be your fault.

they also knew they couldn't actually sell the rest of us on this idea of it's always blessed. they knew in their hearts that every pregnancy should be wanted. they knew going in that plenty of us - even raised catholic, even having had this shoved down our throats - plenty of us still had too many questions about what ifs.

it's just they just didn't want to come off as monsters. they patted our heads and taught us they weren't insensitive. they just had these beliefs. and then they put their hands on our bodies. and said if you don't listen, i'm going to force them.

[the-microphone-explodes]

Well for one thing, you (or the West for that matter) didn’t create the word genocide, it was coined by a Polish-Jewish lawyer named Raphael Lemkin. In his book, the Axis Rule in Occupied Europe he showed his research of the way the Nazi occupied Europe and narrated how he thought the crimes the Nazi committed against the Polish during their occupation came down to 5 main policies that displayed their will to completely destroy the Polish nation which included:

1) The mass killings of Poles

2) Bringing “serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group”,

3) Planned deterioration of living conditions "calculated to bring about their destruction

4) Implementation of various "measures intended to to prevent births within the group" such as promotion of abortions, burdening pregnant women, etc.

5) Forced transfer of Polish children to German families

He used these instances as proof for the Nazi plan to completely terminate the Polish identity and these markers are still used by the Genocide Convention as proof of genocidal intentions. He also used this word to describe the atrocities that Nazi committed against the Jewish people during the Holocaust. Lemkin also spent the rest of his time advocating for an international convention to stop the rise of “future Hitlers”, and on December 9, 1948 the U.N. authorized the Genocide Convention, which had many of its clauses based on Lemkin’s own research and proposals.

Also this is a very narrow idea of racism and discrimination. Anti-semitism was rampant in American and Western society years before Hitler came into power. I mean in 1942, American literally turned away a boat load of Jewish people seeking refuge. People didn’t look at Jews and think “Oh man they look just like us, so their murders must be important and we have to create a word that describes their condition and the crimes being committed against because we care sooooo much about them”. In reality, most people didn’t really given a shit about all of the Jews being murdered, only when America and the West was being directly threatened by war did they retaliate.

So no, the West didn’t coin the word Genocide to describe the atrocities that Nazi Germany inflicted because the victims looked like them or whatever, the word was created by Polish-Jewish lawyer to describe the oppression that his people were put under.

[storiesforallfandoms]

santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

[leclsrc]

sweet pea ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, dad charles/pregnancy au, fluff!, humor, super slight angst

word count: 4.6k

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?” “Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm.”

Or: you finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

notes... some nsfw allusions, nothing too bad. if pregnancy isnt ur thing this is all about it so.

auds here... i hated this for a long time so i thought id never post it hahahah but i will now bec i just redid some scenes and its okay in my eyes... also this is a bit overdue. i hope u like it everyone! :) title from this

It’s an hour before the race and you’re absent from your usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, you’re leaned against the wall of the tiny motorhome bathroom, silently digging your toes into your sandals. Charles knocks twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. He beams when he sees you, goes, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

He offers a hand, but you let your eyes shut, refusing to take it. You fail to even make eye contact, holding up the plastic stick that’d been in your clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s an omen, a portent, a cursed thing, casting your best friend into silence.

It’s cold and sterile in the bathroom—a stark contrast to where other families might find out they’re pregnant for the first time. You imagine a lemon yellow room bathed in noon sunlight and a happy balding doctor going “It’s positive, mama!” You picture a white family SUV in the parking lot, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness.

Instead, you get: “Do you have COVI—oh.”

“Yeah.” You say, pursing your lips. You swallow. “Oh.”

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?”

“Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm,” you counter, lifting yourself from the wall and bumping past Charles on your way out and into his room. He follows, brows knitted together, muttering something French under his breath. 

“By that logic, that’d mean you’re an alien now, too. See, your kinks have finally met their match.”

You turn, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He almost collides with you, his eyes trained determinedly on the positive pregnancy test in his hand. You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, annoyed. “Seriously. Jokes? Right now?”

“I mean—”

“Whatever,” you say, waving him off. “Just go and drive. We can talk about this later.”

“I’ll dedicate the race to the little alien.” He giggles, mimicking a champagne spray, waving the invisible bottle back and forth toward your still-not-showing stomach. His accent switches to a measly English one when he goes, “Oh my Gawd! And there goes the alien Leclerc! Wins in first! From pole!”

“Get out. Or so help me God this baby is growing up without you.”

He ends up winning. (“Should I dedicate every race to the ali—” “Stop calling it that.”)

—

This is nothing but a final culmination of your very layered relationship with Charles. For years, you two had comfortably gone by the “best friends” label, with a hidden “with benefits” clause. You’d grown up together, separated only when you went to university in New York. Your re-arrival in Monaco, coupled with the both of you having grown older and more independent, marked the start of the sex.

It works like clockwork. To relieve stress, to celebrate, to cure boredom. At some point, both of you just inwardly admitted there was a certain weakness to it. A glass of wine, a stick of tobacco, and you’d give in to the temptation easily. Then, in the morning—sometimes in Monaco, other times in foreign countries where your body feels like it’s still three a.m.—you come to a mutual agreement to never do it again.

But you always do, laughing in between kisses, mumbling whispered nothings between the sheets (or in the bathtub, or against the wall, or—that one time—on the balcony.) And now there’s proof of it. Well, barely any yet, you realize, staring at yourself in the mirror of Charles’ hotel room. You turn and flop yourself onto the bed, but face-up. You inch yourself toward the headboard and lean against it in a half-seated position.

“I can’t believe I’m…” You sigh. Finally, the jokes fizzle. This is the real talk.

Charles burrows himself next to you, shirtless and in a stupid pair of boxers with red hearts all over them. You’d gotten them as a Valentine’s Day gag two years ago, but now you’re thinking of the future, of telling this kid their dad has a pair of heart-decorated boxers. Momentarily, and temptingly so, you weigh the options of telling Charles you were joking and running away before sunup.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. He’d learned the phrase from some obscure American rom-com, if you recall correctly. He uses it constantly, and for many years, improperly.

“I’ll give you them for free,” you say, breathless with worry. “We’re having a kid.”

A hand places itself on your knee. You almost jerk away, but you relax. “What do you want to do?”

“With?” You ask, emptily. There’s so much to do. “The baby?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, but also us.”

“We’re not dating,” you say, a bit sharper than intended. 

“We could.” He pauses. “For its sake.” He pokes your abdomen.

“I don’t—” You inhale, trying to reorganize all your thoughts. “I don’t want people thinking we’re suddenly dating and engaged and happy just because I’m about to pop a Charles Jr. out. I mean, what are you going to do with your racing? With a kid on the way, how’s travel going to work? My job? My masters?” 

“I think… I think you and I are lucky enough,” he says slowly, “to be able to weigh all these options without losing too much time or resources. I will support you no matter what, and you know that. And really, who cares if people think we ‘date’ because of the baby? You and I have been ‘dating’ since we were eleven.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until your laugh is mixed with a sob. You don’t know if you’re sad, pissed, overwhelmed, loved—or all four. “Okay? So… let’s both think about it. More you than me. And tomorrow, we can weigh this all over again. Let’s sleep on it. Remember? La nuit—”

“—porte conseil,” you finish tearily. “Okay.”

—

It’s two weeks later. Charles gets stuck in the paddock doing something or other for Sunday, so you’re left to your own devices in the parking lot. Five minutes of waiting turns to fifteen, then a half hour. That’s the catalyst for your mid-evening freakout—suddenly you’re thinking about all the times you and this weird thing inside you might be alone, left for work, by an athlete dad.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks when you’re heaving out another dry, panic-induced sigh. You turn, finding it familiar, and see Seb behind you. He may have been Charles’ teammate, but he’s a friend to you, too, and you find he’s always the most grounded in heated discussions.

“Seb,” you croak, caught off guard. “I’m fine.” Your voice breaks on the ine, and suddenly fat tears roll quietly down your face.

You tell him eventually, when he asks you again if you’re okay, making him the second person to know; still, the telling doesn’t get easier. You didn’t even tell Charles, you think. You merely shoved a Clearblue stick in his face and waited for the goofy reaction that would undoubtedly meet your ears.

“A baby,” he says softly. Happily. “Congratulations. This is a big step… but you don’t sound excited.”

“I mean,” you say in between waves of tears, “I am? I am. But—it happened so fast—we’re not even officially together—and Charles is—”

“Do I need to talk some sense into Charles?” Seb asks suddenly, concerned. 

“No. He’s—he’s being great. Really supportive.” You wipe the tears and fresh ones come. “He’s happy. You know him. I think I’m just overwhelmed. I mean I’m the one who’s toting this baby around.” 

“Take it one step at a time,” he muses. “See a doctor, work out non-race schedules with Mattia, get everything in order. If I know you, this baby will be in the best hands. And that’s not even counting Charles.” He pulls you in for a hug that lasts ages, one that says thank you and I love you better than words. You inhale, find the tears have stopped. You realize what comes after this—it’s telling everyone else. Lily, your best friend. Carlos. Charles’ family. Your family. The fans, oh God you’d forgotten about the fans. The social media announcements. 

Charles strolls into the parking lot—runs, more like, with apologies spouting out of him, just two minutes after Seb leaves. He presses a delicate, apologetic kiss to your forehead, a hand on your stomach. “Hey,” he says. Then, to your abdomen, covered by a sweatshirt, “Hey there, alien.” You wonder what this will be like in two months. In seven. In nine.

—

You tell your families over lunch on a lucky off day. There is little surprise—just tears from both your moms and Arthur teasingly asking you to recount the details of conception. You’re in a sundress serving crostini when Pascale pulls you aside to the back of the yard.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, one of conviction and faith. “I always knew,” she says. “You’re going to be a wonderful mom.”

—

The drivers all find out one way or another, news trickling through the grapevine like honey. You share it to Lily first, and of course she tells Alex. You tell Lewis, too, over spring rolls that he claims will power up the baby when it’s born. Charles tells Pierre, who tells Yuki, and Carlos, who tells Lando. You tell Mick, who hugs you and says, “Oh my god! I already knew, Seb told me. I kept wanting to say congratulations.” 

It’s a matter of two weeks before everybody knows. You know because you’ve barely taken a step into the dimly lit Ferrari motorhome when you halt and bolt back outside, harboring yourself a few metres away at a safe distance. Charles, who had been walking beside you, arm looped around your waist, turns, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“No. Nuh-uh. It smells in there.”

He sniffs the darkness, fumbles for the light switch. “No it doesn’t.”

“It smells like”—you grit your teeth, trying to identify the stench—“cheese. And champagne.”

“Why would it smell like che—”

He bangs the light open and illuminates a surprise party. The entire grid starts cheering, having unheard the entire conversation. There’s a huge banner that says CONGRATULATIONS PARENTS, and on a makeshift table in the centre, an assortment of cake slices, cheese, and flutes of champagne. Charles laughs with delight at the surprise, and then turns to find you squatting on the ground, trying to quell your stomach. 

“Give me five,” you say, waving him off.

He returns after ten to find you still trying to calm the waves of nausea. You hear his footsteps and heave yourself up, standing to face him. “I asked Esteban and Max to evacuate the place of cheese and champagne. It’s just coffee and cake now. I even got three fans going.”

“Desolée,” you say, miserable. He wraps two big arms around you, nestling his chin atop your head. “I feel like a high-maintenance monster.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not the monster. The alien is.”

“I told you to stop calling it that,” you say, shutting your eyes and leaning into his touch. “Before it catches on.”

“Okay. E.T.? Spock? Open to suggestions.” Hand in yours, he walks you gently to the party, arising loud cheers again. In between sips of hot water, he says, “How about Chewy?”

—

The sense of smell proves to be useful in endeavours elsewhere.

“You never clean your car,” you say, lying horizontal on the leather seat and picking bits of dirt off. “I can smell month old Cheetos.”

Charles watches you obsessively nitpick at the detailing. “Last time you looked like this, I gave you a baby.”

“One more word,” you warn sharply. 

“But seriously, be careful. The alien might get stressed.”

You brace yourself for the stupid words that will indubitably follow.

“Don’t worry. If it falls out I’ll plop it in a race car and it’ll be the next Hamilton. Imagine how light it’ll be.”

There it is.

—

Your first trip to the doctor’s is interesting. Charles insists on wearing a wig because he’s so easily recognized in Monaco, so now you look like you’re conceiving a baby with Weird Al Yankovic.

The doctor wheels in a cart with a monitor and all the necessary equipment, and even if it suddenly feels all too real, Charles squeezes your hand and you’re calm again. “I’m back,” she says, sliding into a wheely chair beside you and gelling your stomach.

“Hi, Back,” Charles responds in a crude, twangy Texan accent. The dad humor starts early, you suppose.

You grit your teeth to try and excuse his embarrassing behavior, but suddenly the monitor clicks open and there it is. It looks like the ones in movies, print-outs from friends, but at the same time it doesn’t. It looks different. Special. Yours. You zero in on it, breathless. That’s yours. The doctor says a couple minor things—nothing worrisome—and when you turn to relay it to Charles in case he’d zoned out, you find his face splotchy.

“Are you crying?”

“That’s ours,” he says, dipping down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s mine and Charles’, not mine and Bob Ross’,” you say, but you pull him closer anyway. 

You order two printouts. The week next, you discover that Charles snuck back in to order an extra eight and has mailed them out to friends and drivers. You find out because Kylian Mbappe messages you “Due in April? Make me godfather!” on Instagram.

—

Gradually, you fall into a pattern of being queasy constantly. You get nitpicky with meals, and not irrationally—Charles had fed you a spicy hotdog and you’d gone half a bite before hurling it, and your breakfast, into the nearest toilet. You find solace in your cravings—all of which happen to be the same everyday.

Chinese takeout from just about any restaurant ends up being your best friend. You somehow can’t stomach anything but that specific cuisine, much to your own surprise. You find new ways to combine them with each other. Rice paper wrappers with chow mein. Hotpot with fried rice. If you’re not eating Chinese, you reduce your appetite to crackers or hot tea to avoid becoming too nauseated.

It’s poetic almost, the way he sets out the food carefully, in the order you like them. He always presses a kiss to your forehead after. 

Around this time, you develop a crazy sex drive, waking Charles up at numerous points of the night, begging into his neck for something, anything. You last an hour before you’re asking again. This proves especially difficult before races, where Charles gives in a bit too easily and Carlos has to knock on the door, going “You have to finish somewhere else too, Charles!”

—

You insist Charles hold off on telling the fans, for a few months. It goes okay until your outfits on the paddock evolve into the variety of “Charles’ hoodies” to hide the increasingly evident bloat of pregnancy, and nosy fans start speculating all over Twitter. That’s when he sits you down and gently tells you he thinks it’s time you both announce it.

You’re sitting beside him in his hotel room, after two calls with his bosses, trying to formulate the proper announcement. You download PicsArt to make it pretty and clean and formatted—because the poor guy was about to post a Notes app screenshot—and then it’s on the Internet. 

“She’s truly MOTHER,” one fan comments. Despite yourself, you press the heart icon beside it. It’s your bit of comfort when you catch sight of the nastier comments under the post.

—

You’re ironically gifted an ancient 80s aerobic exercise DVD for mums by Lily and Alex. You’re sure it’s older than you. Charles, though, in his valiant effort to connect with you and Chewy, does the routine everyday. You wake up to the electronic synthpop and Charles doing booty squats in the living room.

The permed instructor smiles through the scratchy 80s quality and goes, “You are rocking it, momma!”

“You hear that?!” Charles pants. “I am rocking it!”

—

Your first parenting fight ends up being one over the baby’s name. Yeah. Of all things. You don’t know why you’re so worked up about it, considering you don’t even know the gender of the baby yet. You arrive in Monaco to mark the first of five off days and Charles makes some random, offhand joke about naming the baby Daryl, and you suddenly start rambling on and on about how it’s too ugly, even if you’d never thought about names before now.

“It’s not going to be Daryl. It won’t be Daryl,” Charles says, hands on your shoulders. You heave another sob. “Please stop crying. You never cry. I’m a bit freaked out.”

“It’s—just—that,” you hiccup, “I—don’t—want to name a—our—baby—Daryl.”

“Yeah, yep,” he says, soothingly. “I got you. It’s not going to be Daryl. Never. We don’t need to decide anything. You gonna calm down for me?”

“I can’t—stop—crying,” you snivel desperately, burying your face in your hands.

He presses a firm kiss to the corner of your quivering lips, and you tug him in for a real one. You calm down when you pull away, exhaling. You gaze at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Blame the alien,” you sniff. 

He kisses your stomach, which shows signs of pregnancy more and more as the days pass. “Hear that?” He whispers into the skin. “She’s blaming you, Chewy.”

—

Your next trip to the doctor’s is with your appointed private physician, Dr. Davies. Two minutes before the doctor walks in, you make a serious and compelling order for Charles to remove the Weird Al wig, which he does—but stores in your bag, “just in case.” It’s also his opporunity to play teacher’s pet and showcase how involved he is in your pregnancy, which, judging by the amount of weird cultish pregnancy books he’s burned through, is very much so.

“It’s gonna be a boy,” you declare while you’re being gelled up. You’re past the point of denial and bloat, now showing way too obviously. “Mom’s intuition.”

“Well, all the books say it’s a girl,” he says proudly.

“Yeah, they also say drinking lemon juice while trying to conceive gives you a girl. I’m sure scientific accuracy was their greatest objective.”

“Girl.”

“Boy,” you say dismissively.

“Girl.”

“Boy.”

“Girl.” It’s not Charles this time, it’s the physician, with a small smile on his face.

You squeeze Charles’ hand so hard you’re half sure it’s chipped off and fallen to the tiled floor. You’re having a girl. Normally Charles would turn and make some petty statement about he’d been right, but—you’re having a girl. A pretty baby girl. You almost can’t believe it. He totally can’t, pressing kisses to your hair and face.

You let him buy pink paint later that day.

—

You predict it, but it comes—fights and squabbles over nothing at all.

First it’s about work, then housing, then his job, then the danger of his job. It’s petty, and usually you storm off in an emotional cloud of irrationality, brought down after a talk, a play-by-play, compromise, reassurance. It’s hard when you’re carrying around a human being, you want to say. Try being in my shoes.

“Can we talk?” Charles says, in the thick of another fight. You’re on the balcony of your flat, mulling over nothing at all. Your stomach is heavy, you’re always exhausted, you never feel pretty anymore even if Charles is always unfailing at telling you you are. 

“Okay,” you murmur, turning. You’ve already developed a habit of placing your hands on your bump always.

He inhales. “I’m scared.”

This is a first. And you realize—in these six months of being pregnant, Charles has been your rock, but has never expressed much fear until now. He’s always been good. Great. Supportive. “Of what?”

“Of—becoming a dad.” He pauses, as if to weigh his words. “I don’t have… a blueprint anymore.”

It dawns on you what he’s talking about. You accept the hug when it comes, holding the nape of his neck. He isn’t crying, but is close to it. His voice is shaky when he continues, whispers against your ear. “What if I don’t know what to do?” 

“Baby,” you say, weakly. You push him gently so he’s looking into your eyes. “If the way you’ve taken care of me the past how many months is any indication of how you’ll treat this alien, I know she’s in good hands. You’ve got so much of your dad in you. You’re caring, sweet, you even got a headstart on the dad jokes.” He laughs. “I want this. And the only reason I ever did was because I knew you’d be with me, being an amazing dad, and an even better…”

“Boyfriend,” he says. His eyes hold hesitance—but you quell it with a nod.

“Boyfriend,” you echo. “For now.”

—

The nursery looks like a nursery in February. It was a storage room in Charles’ flat that had really, at some point, become yours, too. Full of boxes and old suits and memories, it’d taken weeks to properly store everything and make way for the furniture. Charles, of course, insists on painting it himself, with the shade of pink he purchased especially for the room.

He hits his head twice and touches the wet paint. There’s a handprint embossed above the bassinet. (Yours is next to it, at his insistence.)

—

You’re a yoga ball by mid-March, having trouble sleeping and dealing with everything being swollen. Charles helps you through it all, turning the heating up and down every time you get even a bit scratchy with the temperature in the flat or motorhome. Your cravings also morph again at this point, into rigatoni that Charles cooked sometime over winter; he requests Ferrari add an induction stove to every race weekend motorhome that you can make it to so he can cook it at your beck and call.

The season begins. Every race is dedicated to Chewy, and every race is won.

—

It’s early morning in late March when Dr. Davies sends you an email with a one-liner that sounds firm enough to set you and Charles in place after two races that involve you being flown around.

Absolutely NO more air and long car travel for Mommy. 

“Can we manage?” You mope, rereading the email, genuinely distressed as you watch your boyfriend pack for Australia. It’s a long haul flight, with only one stopover in Zurich, and you’re filled with anxiety. There isn’t a compromise—until you’re popping the baby out, Charles needs to try and score the title.

“You know I can always drop out of races,” he says softly. “That’s what reserve drivers are for.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue. “I’m just worried.”

“You’re not due ’til the 12th,” he assures you. “I’ll be back then, even if it means dropping a race.”

He leans down and kisses you softly, rubbing your shoulders and ankles. “I’ll be back before you know it. Get some sleep first, okay?” He repeats the sentiment to your stomach, adding a kiss and a bye bye Chewy. You drift off to a sorrowful sleep when he departs, a slow ache in your lower back blooming that feels just like many of the other slow aches lately. 

You’re up after a half hour with discomfort. You suppose something is just up with your sleep position, and readjust yourself. The discomfort sharpens, then melts. You sigh with relief, a long whistley exhale, and sleep again.

Bliss lasts about three hours, then you’re up again, groaning. You’re not due for a prenatal yoga class until four in the afternoon, and your body isn’t used to being awake. Hell, it’s not used to being this pained. You shift once, twice, trying to sleep with fruitless and exhausting attempts. It takes a while, but in between shifting positions and trying to make yourself yawn, it registers.

“Chewy.” You groan, cupping your gigantic bump. “Seriously?”

—

The first person you call is Charles, naturally. He should be in Zurich, but maybe signal is spotty or something, because none of your texts or calls ping. So you move down the list to the person you know will be in Monaco and not off racing, like everybody you know is—and it just so happens to be Dr. Davies.

You always thought Charles would be nowhere but beside you when you went into labor. But you’re here clutching the straps of your overnight bag being driven to the hospital, exhale, inhale, try Charles, try Carlos. Exhale, inhale. Try Charles. Try Carlos. Your contractions don’t quell; they only grow in intensity and you wince the whole ride through.

“Looks like it’s going to be a fast labor,” Dr. Davies says when he’s done checking you in and making sure everything is in order. You nod, breathless and flushed. You’ve called your mum here and she’s on the way with Charles’ but—Charles is the issue.

“I will weld myself shut if it means I’m giving birth without the dad,” you beg. “Without Charles.”

Charles, who picks up after forty-five minutes of radio silence. He’s in the jet. Give him an hour. “I will pilot this plane myself if I have to. Don’t do anything—don’t make any decisions without me.”

“Too fucking late.” You say, wheezy with labor. “I’m putting N/A on the certificate.”

“You carry Chewy around for nine months and I don’t get to meet her first?” He asks, in a last-ditch effort to cheer you up. You tear up, splotchy and red all over.

“We can’t call her Chewy. We never discussed names. And oh God it can’t be Daryl,” you say, whimpers turning into half-sobs of overwhelm and yearning. You’re scared. You need Charles, who’s been with you for every week, every milestone, every kick, every rigatoni craving. But he’s not here. You have Dr. Davies, and in five minutes you’ll have your mum and Pascale, but they are not Charles. You breathe heavy into the phone.

“I love you,” you say finally. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says gently. “I love you. I’ll be there, okay? Just—just wait for me.”

—

Lil 3s ago

does it hurt?

i know it does but i’m trying to make u feel better

love from houston. i will call you ASAP.

You 1s ago

yeah it hurts so bad

apparently they don’t do epidurals

fuck europe

—

In between quiet periods and intense ones, you finally reach your peak. A nurse takes one glance and nods and your bed is disengaged and wheeling around again. Pascale squeezes your left hand, your mum the other. “Wait!” You pant, voice spent, totally tired, flustered.

The nurses exchange a look. “Ma’am—”

“No, you don’t understand. The dad, my—the dad—he’s out—and I don’t.” You pause, the onset of a cry coming on. Pascale takes the lead, firm, asking for a few more moments of patience.

“I can’t do this,” you say hopelessly, throwing your flushed head back. “No. Not without Charles.”

“I’m here,” Charles says, bounding through the door. He’s in official Ferrari gear and his hair is disheveled and he's clearly been crying. Had Chewy not been wedging her way out, you would’ve kissed him right then. You feel nothing but love.

“You’re a sneaky fucker,” you say instead, and the rest is a blur.

—

It’s an hour before the race and Charles is absent from his usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, he’s leaned against the wall of the motorhome, silently digging his toes into his shoes. You knock twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. You beam when you see him. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

His two girls.

Julia stretches out a chubby hand, but he smiles teasingly, refusing to take it. He holds eye contact, holding up the ring that’d been in his clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s a symbol, a sign, a blessed thing, casting his girlfriend into silence.

It’s a bit dark—a stark contrast to where other guys might propose for the first time. He imagines a Caribbean beach bathed in sunset. He pictures a Jeep in the sand, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness. He figures if you don’t like this, he’ll pay for that.

Instead, he gets: “You’re a doofus—oh.”

“Yeah.” He says, pursing his lips. He swallows, gives you the biggest smile of his life. “Oh.”

It’s perfect.

[magicalrocketships]

Can you tell us more about the maxiel mpregs you shared? Or you said you had more ideas about them? I keep thinking about them!

(from here! Max/Daniel mpreg ideas!)

Hello, anon. This is impeccable timing because I have, in fact, just written half of a little fic for the second of these options. I may or may not have the energy to finish it today, but have this little draft opener as a placeholder:

Daniel I have some news for you so please call me back

You have not called me back Daniel and now it says your voicemail is full so I will text you instead to tell you to call me

I need to tell you something daniel and I can see your read receipts are on so text me back

You have turned your read receipts off but you are still not texting me back and it is important daniel 

Daniel doesn't call Max back. He doesn't call him, and he doesn't text him, and he doesn't come back to Monaco, and he doesn't read or reply to his Instagram DMs. 

Max touches the flat of his palm to his stomach. He is of course not telling Red Bull before he tells Daniel about the baby, and he knows enough about plausible deniability and the pregnancy clause in his contract to know that means he can't tell his doctor either. The team are supposed to be the first call he makes after finding out. So instead he'd had to do a 14 hour trip to see Victoria and pee on a stick in her bathroom using a pregnancy test that was 15 months old and dusty from being shoved in the back of her drawer. She'd said he needed to do a real one and go to see a fucking doctor, but the are you pregnant line was so fucking strong that it was probably visible from space, so Max hadn't needed anything else to prove to him that he and Daniel had made a baby. A baby. Their baby. His and Daniel's.

[ladyrowrites]

Promise Part 4

A/N: Ending may be soon.. I have so many fan fics coming up so stay tuned :)

Pairings: Gojo x Afab reader, Suguru x Afab reader

Warning: NSFW!!! Smut! Passionate love making, Lots of angst and some swearing, mentions of cheating, MDNI!!!

Wordcount: 7k+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

CHAPTER 4: Regrets

Gojo is still haunted by what he did to you - to your relationship. The next morning, he called his secretary to find out who ‘Anika Watanabe’ is and he found out that she was the heiress of Watanabe Corporation. He was also forced to come into the office as his father ordered him because he hasn’t been coming to work the last 2 months, but what did he expect? Gojo was a mess and refused to leave the house. 

Everyone was staring and whispering when he came to the building. He nodded at his father’s secretary and she let him in. He was taken aback when he saw the woman he slept with sitting on his father’s leather couch with pursed lips and eyeing him. His mom was also in the office and came to hug him briefly while patting his shoulders. 

“So nice of you to join us.” His dad said sarcastically, “Wedding’s off and now there is a child on the way. Have you no shame, Satoru?” 

“Uhm, I’m sorry to intercept, but we both wanted this. Even though it was done the wrong way.” Anika said in a soft voice. His mom just rolled her eyes.

Gojo got irritated when he heard her response, “Bitch, I didn’t even want you. Also, that’s not my baby. Stop telling lies to people!” He sternly said. 

“BUT IT IS YOUR BABY!” Anika stood up and touched her belly.

Gojo saw red and yelled on top of his lungs, “THAT’S NOT MINE! I DIDN’T EVEN – I REMEMBER! STOP! TELLING! LIES!” While trying to contain his fists. 

“Anika, tell us the truth, who’s baby is it? Or else we’re going to conduct a paternity test.” Gojo’s mom said harshly. She had enough of this bullshit. If she wasn’t a Watanabe, she would have slapped some sense into her. 

“I…I…” She was stuttering and she didn’t know what to say.

“Even if it’s not Satoru’s child, he will take responsibility for it. Watanabe is now our partner. This will only strengthen our relationship.” His dad intercepted. Anika looked hopeful with his message.

“WHY WOULD I TAKE FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR HER? I DIDN’T IMPREGNATE HER! I WANTED Y/N!” Gojo protested.

“Well, YOU FUCKED IT UP, DIDN’T YOU? YOU SLEPT WITH HER!” His dad is now pointing at Anika who was disappointed at Gojo’s response.

Gojo’s hands ran into his face and now frustratingly on his hair, “Yes, I made the biggest.. THE BIGGEST mistake of my life, but no dad, I’m not taking any shit from her.” And then he pointed at Anika, “And you! How dare you contact Y/N! This was none of her business and now she’s at the hospital!!! I don’t fucking care what happens to you. I AM NOT TAKING RESPONSIBILITY!”

At his words, his mom worriedly said, “What? Where’s Y/N? What the hell is happening?” Gojo just told her he doesn’t know either.

Anika quietly teared up and his dad just looked so done with this situation. Their sales are taking a hit because of what his son did and now Anika is pregnant with some other guy’s kid. 

“You don’t have the right to cry in this situation! You caused this shit by lying!”

“YOU WILLINGLY SLEPT WITH ME, S’TORU!”

“FINE, I DID!! AGAIN, BIGGEST, WORST, MISTAKE OF MY LIFE! But don’t add up any more lies, Anika! I didn’t even know who you were til today. I’m going to get a paternity test whether you like it or not —”

“OKAY! OKAY! It’s not yours! But, I already told my family, it was you and you have to take responsibility or else the merger will fail.”

“But the merger is already a done deal!”

Anika stood up and went up to Gojo’s face, “Yeah, but I don’t think you read one of the clauses right because it said in the contract that we can back away IF there is something we don’t agree with. Ooooops….”

Gojo’s dad and his face turned white. Ugh shit.

“It’s final, Satoru, you’re going to be a father.” His dad spoke with finality. Anika had the biggest grin and popped her tongue, “I will send you the schedule of my doctor’s appointments.” And touched him by his arm and left. His mom wanted to strangle that manipulative bitch – she really liked Y/N as her daughter in law.

“BUT DAD!!!!”

“Well, son, this is the consequences of your actions.”

Gojo was left stunned and called Utahime. Regrets eating him alive.

---------

You slept for at least 24 hours in the hospital and when you woke up you saw all your friends in your room with Suguru and Shoko. You were surprised when you saw them there as well but you weakly smiled at them. All of them had hopeful eyes at you – but it is “pity” and you feel a gut punch to your stomach.

“Uhm, this feels like my funeral. So what’s new with all of you?” You tried to lightly joke at them to lighten up the mood but they were not having it, “YAH! Stop saying that! You did almost die!” Miwa cries while trying to hug you. You comforted her by hugging her back and tapped her shoulders, “Don’t scare us like that again!”

“I’m sorry guys. I really am. I didn’t mean to. I’m just not in a good space right now.” You apologetically smiled at them while letting go of Miwa.

“As long as you’re okay now, that’s what’s important. We forgive you.” Utahime responded. 

The doctor gave you the okay to go home and that you slept for so long because your body was exhausted. Your prescription was to basically rest and not stress too much. All your friends helped you get home and even cooked for you so you can rest as much as you can.

Suguru and Shoko volunteered to take care of you for the night as Miwa, Mei, Utahime, and Yuki needed the rest as well. Suguru was sitting beside you when you three decided to watch a movie but Shoko dozed off. 

You can feel Suguru looking at you through your peripheral vision, “Why? Is there some dirt on my face?” You asked but still not facing him. He slowly took your left hand and cupped it with his, “I just want to say I’m sorry for all of this. You really don’t deserve any of it.”

You faced him and he had this apologetic look so you softly smiled at him and squeezed his hands with your right, “Don’t be. You’re not responsible for any of this.” You heard what happened when Suguru had that encounter with Gojo and Utahime flying back to Tokyo just to lecture him from Shoko – she left the part when Suguru talked about stealing you though. Shoko really felt guilty about knowing it first and she said that she should’ve told you right away – she was apologizing profusely but you forgave her because it’s not her fault and you wouldn’t want to know about Gojo’s infidelity through any other person. You also gave Utahime the look when you learned she did all that but she gave you the 'I’m your best friend so deal with it. look' You were thankful for all your friends because without them you could have really lost your life – and now you realize, he wasn’t even worth it. 

“I know, but, I’m really sorry my best friend is such an asshole.” Suguru responded, “I mean at least he showed me his true colours before marriage, you know? Because if he did it while we were married, the divorce would be more of a mess.” You sounded kind of positive, “But believe me, Suguru, I will be okay. Just some rough patches, but I will be okay again. Okay? Stop worrying, I won’t pull that shit again.” You reassured him, “Utahime might really kill him this time.”

He weakly smiled at your response and you made a pinky promise to him which he accepted, “Now, enough drama. Let’s finish Harry Potter!” Suguru looked at you once more and focused on the movie. 

-Leaving Gojo’s house that night-

“So were you really going to go after Y/N now?" Shoko puffed a smoke before entering Suguru’s car.

“I don’t know. I just said that because he was really an asshole. Like how do you cheat on someone like her? So dumb.”

“Did you really let Satoru take her? Or was it just to rile him up?"

-5 1/2 years ago-

Nanami was actually the first one you met from their group through work and then you saw Nanami at a bakery with Suguru so he introduced you to him. When Suguru first met you, he already knew you were a kind and confident person by how you carry yourself and how your smile was always radiating. From then on, you three would always meet up in the bakery for breakfast or lunch so Suguru asked Nanami to give him your number because he was a bit shy asking you because you were always teasing Nanami about the bakery girl and he was afraid that you might tease him too if he asked. 

As Suguru and Nanami wanted you to meet their other friends, they invited you to Korean BBQ as you said you loved it. When you came with them, all of their friends were already there and they introduced you to Shoko, Todo, Choso, and Sukuna. They all seem so friendly and so close to each other as they joke around – teasing Suguru that he was never the type to introduce a girlfriend to the friend group and he even let you sit beside him. Suguru denied that you were seeing each other that way and you just laughed at their teasing, “I just invited her today because we were having Korean BBQ and she said she likes this food.”

“Ahuh, you forced me to book this restaurant!” Shoko teasingly replied. All of his friends went “AYYYYY!” And you can see Suguru turning red, “Don’t mind them, they’re just dumb.” He whispers to you. You just nodded and said, “Don’t wor—-”

You were cut off when a voice came over to your table and yelled, “HOW’S MY FAVOURITE PEOPLE? I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU GUYS IN A WHILE!” He was a tall guy with white hair and a black glasses on – glasses inside the restaurant, weird, you thought. They all screamed his name and Sukuna scooched over so he could sit down but he sat right next to you. His glasses falling over his nose, “And who is this angel? Is God really giving me a gift right now?” Then he smirks at you.

You rolled your eyes at him and said, “I’m sorry, I’m no angel, but I guess you’d have to put down your glasses because this girl has some hidden horns.” Now, it was your time to smirk. Everyone at the table was taken aback but cheered because no one had ever put Gojo in his place. They all said you had guts and even Suguru tapped your shoulder saying you did a good job. 

Gojo did put down his glasses and wow, does he have the bluest eyes ever – like the ocean, you're most favourite place in the world. My god, why is everyone at this table so handsome? Did they all meet in a pageant or something? Gojo saw you peeked at him so he said, “Why? You like what you see?” and winked at you.

You turned to him and said, “Yes, I do and as a matter of fact, you look like my mom’s dog.” Everyone erupted in laughter and Gojo was taken aback – your mom’s dog? What the fuck? No one has ever said that to him. Almost all girls will be falling on his beck and call, but you were different. Very interesting, he thought.

Suguru placed his arms over yours and said, “Aight, that’s my girl.” Your heart jumped at what he said and chugged the beer. Everyone was cheering you again as you finished the pint. Gojo gave Suguru the look of, “Oh, she’s yours?” and as they were best friends Suguru understood what he meant and he nodded but also retracted his arms on you. Suguru thought Gojo understood what that nod meant.

Gojo extends his hands to yours, "Gojo Satoru."

You accepted, "Y/N, L/N."

After meeting you, Gojo started to look forward to meeting his friends again because you became a part of their friend group and he wasn’t fazed even though you were talking and laughing more with Suguru - a pang of jealousy, maybe, but he's Gojo Satoru.

Gojo started to talk to you more and even asked for your phone number right in Suguru’s face. You don’t know if this is a good idea but he was so straight forward to you. He began messaging you and even showing up to breakfast or lunch in the bakery with Suguru and Nanami. 

After 6 months, just all of a sudden, you were smiling more to his texts and even went out with him once with only the two of you – helping you with your groceries. Usually you would do this chore with Suguru because you felt more comfortable with him because he doesn’t really make inappropriate/flirty comments and the last time he did it was at the dinner and that was it, but getting to know Gojo more, you got used to his antics. And when Suguru actually called you that night, you said you were with Gojo because he was already on his way to do groceries as well even though he didn’t buy anything. All Suguru said was, “Oh okay. Just wanted to see what you’re doing. Have a great night then.”

After that, you haven’t heard or seen Suguru that often and the last time he texted you he said he has a big architectural project overseas that will last 3 months so you won’t be meeting him for a while. You were kind of sad because you were so used to his presence and he was a really great friend. For those 3 months though, you got to know Gojo Satoru deeply – hanging out more, having profound and serious talks with him which you didn't expect in his goofy personality.

And one night, you went over to Gojo’s house because he said he was sick and there was no one to take care of him. You told him to eff off and call Shoko instead because you were going to hang out with your best friend. He said Shoko doesn’t care about him even though she is a doctor and then he called you ‘heartless’. You gave up, canceled your plans and went to his place. It was your first time seeing his crib and it’s huge. When you entered, he was smiling weakly at you so you touched his forehead with the back of your hands to try and check if he really has a fever – he actually is super hot(THE TEMPERATURE, lol). He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his jogging pants were hanging low on his torso. You had to swallow because damn it is getting hot in here! You try to not look at his body so you just said, “Fine, you are sick, now let’s get to your bed, and I’ll make you some porridge and tea.” He then took your hand and led you to his bedroom – his house is on the penthouse and a loft inside it – the second floor was his bedroom and it also had the master’s bathroom. 

You asked where his medical kit was and then you took his temperature, it was at 38°C so you went to his bathroom, took a towel and washed it with cold water and you put it on his forehead. He was softly smirking at you – my gosh, he had the nerve to look at you like this despite being sick, so arrogant, you thought, “Yah, remove that wide grin over your face! Your fever is too high for you to be acting like that.”

“Whaaaaat? I’m just happy someone is taking care of me.”

“Ahuh…. Okay, I’m going to go now in the kitchen downstairs okay? I’m going to cook some porridge and make tea for you. Be right back.” Before you could turn, he held your hand once more and told you to sit right beside him, “Uhm, I don’t think so, mister. You need some food so you can get better right away.” He pouted on you – why is he so cute? You gently release his hand, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back okay?” Then you softly smiled and touched his hair that was currently up from the towel in his forehead, “Promise, I won’t take long.”

“Okay cause’ I’ll miss you if you’re gone too long.” You just laughed at what he said and pinched his nose – ugh, stop making me fall for you!!! 

After coming back with a porridge and ginger tea, you sat him up on the headboard and gave him the food. He was such a baby because he wanted you to spoon feed him. You just sighed and rolled your eyes and did it. You also gave him medicine for his fever. After this, you really want to go home or maybe sleepover at Utahime’s as you haven’t seen her in a while.

But lo and behold, fate has another plan for you because after feeding him, making him drink the tea and his medicine, you were about to say goodbye to him but he gave you beautiful eyes and said, “Aren’t you at least going to wait for my fever to come down?” Your conscience is too pure so you stayed with him. You dozed off on his side bed while he was holding your hand, but when you woke up, you were lying on his bed – wait, how did you get from sitting on the floor to here? You tried to get up but he had tightened his arms on you so now you’re staring at his face too closely. The towel from his forehead was gone so you traced his eyebrows, the shape of his eyes, and his nose but stopped when he spoke, “So you like what you see. Heh.” He slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You were awake! I knew it! Now, can you let go, mister? I wanna go home.”

“Okay, but do you like what you see?” He was so close to your face that you can feel his breath and it's making you feel things you shouldn’t, “Yes, I do.” You softly said. 

He chuckled, “Like your mom’s dog, hmm?”

“No,” You said seriously as you looked at his cerulean eyes, “You’re my type.” And as soon as you said it, you realized you fucked up because now he has the biggest grin in his face and if you think he couldn’t get closer, well he did and now he’s looking at your lips like it’s God’s greatest creation – he slowly put his lips to yours and he sensually bit your lower lips. Being caught in the moment, you open your mouth to receive his tongue and now you two are sharing a passionate kiss, “Hmm.. So I am your type huh?” He said in between kisses, “Don’t.. Be..So” You replied as he hungrily kissed you, “Don’t be so what? He breathed at your neck.

“Arrogant.” You smirked at him when he came up from the kiss to look at you. He just smiled at you and began going on top of you, “Is that so?” Gojo nibbles your neck and you start whimpering – he started to get hazy when he heard your soft moans but you snapped out and said, “Oh my god! You're still sick Gojo! What the hell, are you okay now?” You touched his forehead and he just chuckled at you, “Yes, I am okay now because you were such a good caretaker. Also, it’s Satoru to you.” He groaned in your ears and started to nibble you again because he got interrupted. Now, his hands start to roam under your shirt, but you hold his wrist, “Uhm, Satoru, we… I…”

“Tell me right now, princess, do you want me to stop? Promise, I’ll stop if you don’t want to.” FUCK! You don’t know what to do.

“Do you have feelings for Suguru?” He asks – you were surprised at his question and the truth is, you had a crush on him but it looked like it was one-sided because he never really flirts or gives hints or maybe you just don’t notice it? So you decided to let go of that ‘crush’ and you said, “It kinda went away, because…” Yes, Gojo kind of replaced him because he was giving you his undivided attention and he was such a flirt. At first, you really tried to ignore it with your every being but he was just so enticing.

“I don’t need a reason, princess. No was suffice.” and he comes back to your lips and the longer he was there, he was pressing his lips more onto yours as if it’s not close enough. You feel a bulge on his jogging pants and you were already getting hot below there because he was kissing you so passionately and you’ve been returning it, “Do you still want me to continue? If you want me—”

“Yes, I want you, Satoru.” As soon as he heard your words, he slowly put his hands on your shirt to remove it and also discarding your bra, he grunted when he saw your naked body – “goddess” is what he thought of. He removes his lips on yours and starts to kiss your neck and slowly goes down to your chest. He was sucking and kissing your hardened nipples and his other hand was groping your other bosom. You were losing it as you started to moan a bit loud. Hearing your whimpers, made him kiss your stomach and gently remove your pants. He was putting his lips all over your thighs then he stopped at your clothed wet cunt. He stared at it like taking a mental picture of it so you put your hands on your face because he was looking at your wet cunt so hungrily and you got shy all of a sudden. He groaned and removed your hand from your face, “So wet f’ me. Your pussy is so pretty, just like you angel.” Then he started kissing your cunt with your panties on. He was now using his tongue until you're soaked and then he glided your underwear to the side and starts using his fingers with his tongue, “Toru! Fuck! Ahhh.”

Hearing his name escape from your lips, he went in deeper and faster. Holy shit. No one has ever eat you out like this, “Fuck.. M’ so close, Toru!”

“Yes, angel, fuck, let go, yes, just like that. Cum f’ me.” He brought you to your high and came undone. You were sensitive but he cleaned you up with his tongue. He looked at you so lovingly because you were so beautiful at your fucked out face. Gojo licked his two fingers to taste your remaining cum and that’s where he realized –  you were the most delicious meal ever. He wanted to see you messier and fucked out so he removed his jogging pants and spit on his member. You looked at his cock and and went ‘o’ “I do like what I see, holy shit!” 

He cackled lowly with your comment but felt so proud. You got up and told him since he’s still a bit sick, you can do the work, he protested, but you made him sit by the headboard and you began touching his abs and started to kiss all over it. He was losing his mind and he started to moan so loud when you spit on his cock and started to roll your tongue on his base – collecting the precum. He wanted to cum right now but he wanted you more so he grabs your hair but you looked at him, “Not yet, Toru.” You savoured him slowly which was killing him but it was so fucking good. You bobbed your head faster – up and down and shoved all of him til his cock was hitting in the back of your throat. You were gagging a little bit but it didn’t stop you from taking him all in and massaging his balls. He was mewling your name and he can’t control it anymore so he grabs your hair again in which you let him and started to fuck your throat.

“FUCK!!! RIGHT THERE Y/N!!! OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SO FUCKING…. UGH GOOD, YES, ANGEL!” He groaned and came in your mouth, “Yes, angel, fuck, take all of it.. Ahhh.” Being a good girl you are, you swallowed all of it and opened your mouth to show to him that you did it, “That’s my fucking girl.” He was still hard from just seeing how you swallowed all of his cum without complaints so Gojo put you on his lap and started to line up his cock to your sopping cunt. 

“You’re such a good girl, there.. Fuck, so fucking tight f’ me. Shit.” He was easing into you and he was getting hazy on how your pussy is sucking him in. You tilt your head back, arched your back and were moaning so loud when he bottomed out. “Fuck yes angel, let them hear how my cock is so good to you.” He whispers in your ears. His left hand was on your waist and his right hand is groping your boobs. He slowly moved you – up and down and he was grinning from ear to ear when your boobs moved so beautifully with your ,"Toru!" whimpers. Now, he’s impatient – he fucks you so ravishingly like a starved animal who hasn’t eaten in days and moves his right hand to your waist. He is now pushing and pulling in your gummy walls, fuck your head is spinning and his cock feels so fucking good so you synched your movements with him and you were both getting undone. Loud whimpers and the squelching coming from you both is what can be heard in his loft. You take him in every position and you’ve lost count on how many times you did it. My god, his stamina was something else. You were both panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. And it was now noon. 

You faced each other and he cupped your face, “That was the best sex, I mean making love I ever did with someone.” He weakly smiled at you. It was the truth – Gojo’s sex life was just full of one night stands, fuck buddies, and quickies. It was his first time experiencing a passionate love making, “It’s like you weren’t sick though. Were you really sick or were you pretending, hmm? You were suspicious because how can he make you a fckin’ mess with a high fever like that – how is his stamina then if he wasn't sick? GOD.

“I don’t know, you healed me!” He said while drowning you with kisses in your face, “I’m hungry, tho, shall we eat?”

“Sure, I can cook something. Let’s shower first tho.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach when he back hugged you while you were cooking. You looked up at him and he sweetly smiled at you, “Mmmmm, this one looks like it taste so good.”

“Hmm, are you talking about the food or?” You both laughed and then he whispered something to you so unexpectedly that you felt your heart burst with happiness, “Please be my girlfriend. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

You faced him, “Are you serious?”

He cupped your face – his cerulean eyes peering at your soul, “Never been this serious before. I really, really, really, really like you.” Gojo was hoping you’d say yes. PLEASE SAY YES! (Before Suguru comes home)

You were now smiling from ear to ear, “That’s a lot of reallys.”

“Because I really do like you. You're my type too, Y/N.” Ugh, the way he says your name…

“Yes, okay, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Gojo shouted YES! And starts hugging you tight, “Really?” He asks.

“Really, really.” You respond. 

After eating with now your ‘boyfriend’, you texted your friend group chat with Utahime that you have big news and you want to see them tomorrow. You all decided to eat at a Korean BBQ and sing karaoke after. Gojo said yes to all your plans because he really wants to meet all your friends. He did meet Utahime once before but just a quick “Hi, Hello” but it seemed he didn’t vibe with her – she was a bit snobbish at him.

The next day, you introduced Satoru to your friend group and they were all teasing you except Utahime. When you both went to the washroom, she whispered to you, “Are you sure you still don’t want to call this off?”

“‘Utahime!! Girlie, it’s okay. He seems decent and he promised he’ll take care of me. I mean if there are red flags, you know, I’ll break it off.” You reassured her.

“Okay, just want you to be happy and safe.” Utahime did see that he was a decent guy. Satoru was serving you food at the BBQ and making sure your water is filled at all times. He was very attentive which Utahime liked and he was vibing with the other girls – she was still skeptical, but of course it’s your best friend, she wants what’s best for you.

Satoru was down to everything you tell him – even singing some duet karaoke songs and joking with your girlfriends. You felt relieved that it was a great first meeting. 

-1 week after-

“Now it’s time to tell my friends, why am I nervous, angel?” You laughed at him, “My baby, you’re okay, it’s going to be okay, they know me already!” You console him. 

He held out his hand to lock with yours. You are at the Sushi restaurant and everyone is there – even Suguru… when did he come back? He was sitting beside Shoko and was smiling at you when he saw you but it turned upside down when he quickly looked at your hands interlocked with Satoru. He nodded to both you and Satoru.

“Oh so this is the ‘big’ announcement.” Sukuna teased.

“We were more surprised it’s not sooner.” Choso chuckled.

“Hey come on, give our Gojo-kun a break, he did change a lot. Congrats to the both of you.” Nanami comments.

Shoko just hugged you and said congrats. Everyone was cheering you both on and Suguru was just quiet the whole time. You tried to look at him but he was avoiding you. Satoru noticed it and squeezed your hand so you looked up at him and gave you a reassuring smile. You shake your thoughts off and tell yourself you'll talk to him next time – but that ‘talk’ never happened.

---------

“I did let him take her and that was so cowardly of me. Never again.” He told Shoko and drove off.

He regretted that day he didn't tell you how he felt. Now that Suguru has you again. He will make sure this time, no one will take you. It was 4 years of torture and you really deserve all the good love in this world. 

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Tags: @username23356-blog @iamrgo @mandysfanfics @shartnart1

NOTE: I will be on vacation for 1 week somewhere by the beach because this girl deserves it. Work has been burning me out lately so yes, I need a rest. I will try to work on the next part of Ex-Boyfriend Nanami and the next chapter of this. Ending is very soon, and it's oh so sweet!

Writing again soon,

Lady Ro :)

[krirebr]

Thoughts or thots on swapping the babes in More Than This? What if Ransom was the BFF!step bro and Steve was the arranged groom to be? 👀

OH MY GOD! This is just- oh no! This has taken over all my thoughts since you casually slipped it into my inbox yesterday. I'm not even going to attempt a drabble cause I know it would end up being 5k and just part one 🤣 and you will not do that to me! 🤣🤣🤣 So here are my quickly-jotted extensive thoughts on what this would look like.

Ok, so your dad married Linda when you were little and then died when you were 14ish so Linda "raised" you herself (mostly by sending you to boarding school).

I think having a younger sibling would have mellowed Ransom out a little bit. He's still an asshole, but not as much of one because he has someone to commiserate with over their terrible family. And I think having someone to protect would be good for him.

When the time comes, Harlan and Linda sit you down and tell you that you're engaged to Steve, whose family, for the purposes of this, is still in the movie business and still based in LA, although I think he splits his time between there and NY. They at least do you the service of telling you about the pregnancy clause.

You go straight to Ransom, who immediately takes you out to get very, very drunk. Amid all the bar-hopping, he lets you cry all over him.

The next day, while you're nursing your hangover, Ransom goes out to the house to give Harlan a piece of his mind. There's a lot of yelling. It doesn't have any practical effect on your situation, but it does make you feel seen.

Meanwhile, Steve, who is very mission-oriented and values his family above almost anything else, takes this arrangement very seriously immediately upon learning about it. I think it would just take one conversation with Sarah about how important this is to have him push down all his personal feelings (which are turbulent) to focus on doing what needs to be done.

Like in the original story, Steve and Ransom have a passing acquaintance. Ransom thinks Steve is holier-than-thou, arrogant, and must be hiding something behind his good-boy presentation. Steve is very wary of the kind of party girl the sister of Ransom Drysdale must be. This leaves both you and Steve very nervous about the arrangement.

He flies out to meet you, and you both do your best to get to know each other over dinner. It goes well enough. You don't hate each other. But he comes off as stiff and formal and makes you feel a little like you're just a mission to be completed. You leave the restaurant feeling like you still don't really know who you're going to be marrying.

You text intermittently over the next few weeks, mostly about the logistics of moving into his home. It doesn't exactly alleviate your nerves.

Ransom helps you pack up all your things. He listens as you worry out loud about all of the things you can't control. He curses both Linda and Harlan as he shares cheap beer and expensive whiskey with you. You're going to miss him so much.

The wedding goes as well as can be expected. Steve is kind to you and tells you how beautiful you look. You make pleasant small talk with him over dinner and during several dances. After, you go up to the honeymoon suite and you both immediately fall asleep.

The next day, right before you get on the private jet, Ransom threatens Steve to his face. Steve promises he'll always treat you as well as you deserve.

When you get to his house and he gives you the tour, there's one door upstairs that remains closed. He tells you that that room is private and asks you to respect that.

He doesn't want to have sex until you've gotten to know each other better. Part of you is relieved but another part is very nervous about the ticking clock hanging over both your heads. You're not sure if there's enough time for him to get as comfortable with you as he wants (and vice versa) before you contractually need to be pregnant.

After a few weeks, you're home alone, when somehow the door to his private room gets opened. Maybe you still have Lola, and she somehow gets into the room. You go running in after her and that's how you discover that it's an art studio. Steve's art is on the walls and on easels in different stages of completion. It's all so beautiful. In the center of the room, there's a breathtaking but unfinished charcoal sketch. It takes only a moment for you to realize it's of you. You're bowled over by how he sees you.

He finds you standing in front of the drawing, tears running down your face. He's embarrassed and worried that he must have offended you. He tries to apologize, but you stop him by smashing your lips into his. It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up, but once it does, he kisses you back with a passion you've never experienced before.

You have sex for the first time on the floor of his studio. It's hurried and messy and desperate. Later, he'll put you in the bed you share and take his time taking you apart, but right now, he needs to show you that that drawing is just a fraction of the beauty he sees in you.

It doesn't take long after that for you to conceive your first child of many.

Oh my god! See what this did to me?!? Just this headcanon is almost 1k! I hope that's a satisfactory answer. 🤣🤣🤣 I loved getting the chance to flip MTT on its head like this. Thank you for sending such a great question!!

[cantheykillmacbeth]

could Tycho Curious from The Sims 2 kill Macbeth? :))

Yes, Tycho Curious from The Sims could kill Macbeth!

Oh, boy. Here we go.

In The Sims, it is possible for a male sim to be impregnated by aliens following an abduction event. In The Sims 2, the game begins with one sim, Pascal Curious, already pregnant with one such child. Pascal is also in The Sims 4, being available for download from the Maxis Gallery, and is already pregnant. However, neither of these children are Tycho. The name specifically refers to a version of Pascal’s child from The Sims 2 for PSP. I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you meant this version, but I’ll keep it general enough.

So, yes, obviously the Birth Parent Clause applies here, as Pascal (male) is the one giving birth. No question about that. It’s consistent with all three versions of both him and his kid. The actual birth is questionable, though, as only male sims can get pregnant this way. Oddly enough, it doesn’t actually seem to matter that much. Sims 4 has a pretty good sex/gender screen, where you can basically make any combination of biology and expression you want. But the only thing that seems to matter to the game is the little male/female symbol in the top left. Meaning…the game doesn’t know, either. I’m going to save us all a bit of trouble and say these aliens are probably coming out via c-section, giving us a pretty hesitant yes on the Unconventional Birth Clause.

And here’s where the distinction comes in. Because in Sims 2 on PC, Pascal’s child can be either male or female. And in Sims 4, the baby is set as female. But the name Tycho specifically refers to the one on PSP, who is always male. Meaning that no, if you’re using the name Tycho, he doesn’t qualify for Gender Clause.

Thanks for your submission!

-Mod Pepper

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 6: Unvarnished Truths

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,305

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: plenty of cursing.

A/N: Special shout out to @onmarswesail for correctly guessing not one, but two plot points for this chapter! 😆

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake looked up from the guard schedule he was working on in surprise as the door to his office opened. He had no appointments scheduled and there were only a handful of people that could get through without one.

His eyes widened, and he stood quickly as he registered who it was. “Riley! What are you doing here?” He made his way around the desk to greet her. “Not that I’m complaining!”

She allowed herself a small smile as he engulfed her in his arms. “Sorry to just pop in like this. Is it a bad time?”

“No. It’s never a bad time for you. But…” He pulled away from her so he could look into her face. “What is it? Is everything okay? Have you told—”

“I’m fine. Liam’s fine. No, I haven’t told him anything. I mean, he knows I’m sleeping with someone, he just doesn’t know who.”

“Okay…” he responded carefully. He didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. They had discussed it, and he was a proponent of the truth. After all, the Cordonian Arrangement codicil that Liam has insisted be added to their marriage contract worked both ways.

Besides, Liam had never stopped sleeping with Olivia, so he couldn’t get too upset about his wife finding a distraction of her own. She had fulfilled the clause of the marriage contract that stated the first two children produced after marriage must be blood heirs to the throne. Routine paternity testing confirmed that she had held up her end of the bargain. She was legally and morally free to do what she wanted with whomever she wanted. 

If it were any other woman, he wouldn’t care what she did or didn’t tell her husband, but it seemed wrong not to tell his best friend something of this magnitude.

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Once again, he responded carefully. “Okay.”

“We never use a condom….”

“Oh!” He was startled but recovered quickly, stifling the thought of her with another man that wasn’t him or Liam. “I’m not sleeping with anyone but you, and I assumed you weren’t sleeping with anyone but me. However, we can start using them if you like.”

Her mouth made an o shape as she shook her head. “No! It’s not that… it’s just…. I’m not on birth control and I’m a few days late, so I took a pregnancy test. It was negative. But Liam caught me, so he knows.”

Relief surged through him that she was simply worried about getting pregnant. He gave her a reassuring smile as he drew her back into his arms. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that either.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—”

He was interrupted by the door to his office opening unexpectedly for the second time that day. “What the fuck?” He muttered under his breath as he turned toward the interloper.

The king of Cordonia stood in the doorway, gaping at them. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s Drake? You’re sleeping with my best friend?”

Riley spun on him in fury. “Why do you care, Liam? You have Olivia!”

Liam’s gaze shifted to Drake. “Did you tell her that? Is that how she knows?”

Drake scoffed. “I didn’t have to tell her shit, Liam. She already knew. And no, I would not betray your confidence like that.”

“But you would sleep with my wife, right?”

Drake’s mouth fell open in incredulity. “She is in possession of a Cordonian Arrangement and you haven’t slept with her in a year and a half. How are you going to be upset by this?”

Liam’s eyes darted from one to the other and then a grin spread across his face. “Oh my God, this is fucking hilarious!” He threw his head back and chortled.

Riley’s ire spiked even higher. “What’s so goddamn funny, Liam?”

Face turning red as tears started streaming down it, Liam choked out between bellows, “Does he know why you’re sleeping with him?”

Some of the queen’s anger slipped away as confusion replaced it. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Drake echoed her.

Liam took several heaving breaths before he could get his laughter under control. He directed his first remark to Drake. “She wants another baby.” Turning to Riley, he barely managed to get the words out before the gales of laughter were back. “He had a vasectomy six years ago.”

Both faces drained of color as they responded in unison, “What?”

Riley turned to Drake, anguish clear on her features. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d had a vasectomy?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I would have if you’d told me that’s what this was all about! Having a baby is a massive thing, Riley! That’s something you should discuss with your partner!”

She blinked, completely taken aback. “I guess. But since we weren’t using any protection, I just assumed you were okay with the consequences…. shit!” She dropped her head into her hands, fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Liam’s laughter spilled through the room again as he felt a weight lift from his chest. He’d spent the last hour worrying about a nonexistent problem. She wasn’t getting pregnant by anyone else.

At the sound of his laughter, all the anger flooded back in and Riley yelled at him. “I don’t know what’s so funny. It’s not like I can’t just find someone else!”

This time it was Liam and Drake that responded in unison. “What? No!”

With all of his laughter gone, Liam became serious as he reached an arm out toward her. “Riley. Be reasonable. Let’s discuss—”

Drake’s voice cut through the discussion, quiet and calm but resolute. “I’ll have a reversal.”

“What?” Riley felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

Liam’s jaw clenched. “What the fuck, Drake?”

“I’m not talking to you, Your Majesty.” Drake pushed past Liam and pulled Riley back to him. He gently touched her chin and tipped her head back so he could look directly into her eyes as he told her, “I said that I’ll have the vasectomy reversed if that’s something you need. There’s no need to find anyone else. I’ll give you what you want.”

Joy surged through her as she reached up to caress his cheek, “Drake….”

“Just fucking great,” Liam muttered under his breath. Out loud, he said, “You said I had two days to decide.”

Drake glanced over her head at his best friend. “To decide what?”

“If I’m willing to give her a baby, allow someone else to, or grant her a divorce.”

Drake’s eyes flicked down to Riley’s face, then back again. “And you need two days to figure that out?”

“Spare me your judgments, Drake. Especially considering that you’re sleeping with my wife!”

“You don’t get to be outraged. You married her under false pretenses, and you’ve abandoned her emotionally. You do not have the high ground here. Especially after you promised me you’d make her happy. Remember that?”

Riley’s head swiveled between the two men. “What are you talking about?”

Drake sighed as he stepped away from her, rubbing his eyes. “After you two announced your engagement, I went to Liam and told him what happened between us and admitted I had feelings for you. But you were clearly in love with him. He promised me that you’d never regret marrying him, yet here we are.”

“You had feelings for me?”

He nodded.

“What didn’t you tell me?”

He scoffed. “What would have been the point, Riley? We all know you would have still accepted Liam’s proposal.”

“This is all very touching.” Liam cut in. “But you said two days, Riley. So no one schedules any medical procedures until this all gets sorted out.”

[way-of-love]

Unfulfilled (PART 3)

(NO MINORS)(R-RATED-) (NAMOR X FEMREADER)

You, a mutant siren, made a deal with the god and king of Talokan. That in use of your body, to be a surrogate, to create an heir, you will be paid in what the world truly wants most. Vibranium. . But you set rules, limits to what was allowed and all those months lead to nothing. An empty womb. And a very angry surrogate. Namor has been nothing but patient but now was the time to exploit your ridiculous rules and claim what he's been fighting for.

He was a king.

And the king longed for you.

-Sorry for the wait!-

There was a reason for Namors new wardrobe change, a long sleeved shirt arms rolled to his elbows, bootcut jeans that hugged his legs very nicely and even shoes or rather boots you never knew the king of the sea owned. There was a lack of jewelry on his person as well, everything was gone except for the septum he had on his nose. You wouldn't dare call him normal looking because you knew what hid underneath. He was anything but a normal guy.

But he did hide his mutations very well. If someone from the outside got to see him they wouldn't think he was the infamous Ku'kul'kan that people throughout history feared and what people today thought was a myth. Honestly, what would people think? What would they say when they saw the myth they've told throughout history was in your home and every other night come to impregnate you because of the deal you both agreed upon. A baby for pure vibranium.

Speaking of the baby, he was here for that reason dressed up like this. He and his other two subordinates agreed that it was more than high time you saw a doctor for that baby. You were supposed to see one sooner than this but Attuma and even Namora assured you that if you were to see a normal doctor they'd pick up that it wasn't just an average baby. In short, what they meant to say was,' That baby you carry is nothing but a mutant. Bred between a powerful siren and an even more powerful god. No one will understand.'

While you thought the pregnancy was going to be normal in itself you found yourself being extra careful with what you ate, what you did and even how you sung. For a siren singing and stretching your vocal cords was a must. Even while pregnant, yes your mother did it, but this wasn't just a sirens baby it was a mutants baby. You didn't know how sensitive it was or even how vulnerable it would be to your songs. You weren't going to risk hurting it.

Or risk losing your income.

Namor helped you back into bed after cleaning you up. You felt like absolute shit. The pregnancy books didn't mention this one bit. God, if this was how you died then this was definitely the worst way to go. Before Namor showed up Namora was the one to tell you that this was just your body's way of trying to share its nutrients with the fetus inside you. And since you didn't get hit with this sooner, it hit you now with full force. Lovely.

"I hate this. I hate you," You mumbled burring yourself under the thick blanket Namor pulled up for you. Of course he didn't take your words to heart and simply sat down by your bedside and waited. Listening to you sniffle and watched you as you rubbed your bare tummy under the protection of the blanket. He never once hear nor had reports of you cursing down at the child that made you feel so sickly like this. And he certainly did not hear you swear your hate towards it. Everything that he saw, heard and noticed was that you took care to protect the very being you will never even see at birth because he will make sure you will never see it, as per the clause in your agreement.

This 'hate' you had for him, he knew was just a small burst of your emotions. That it too shall pass. As sickly as you were he didn't engage nor indulged in it. Namora warned him about moments like these, woman in general were emotional beings and even more so when with child. But a siren, a creature who allured men and lured them to their deaths, who protected woman, children, infants...you'd be more exploited to your emotions.

You were with child and already protective of it. He feared that one day you wouldn't walk away as per your agreement, that you'd show him your teeth and claws ready to fight for something you never wanted. Something deep, deep down inside him hoped you did something so then he'd take the both of you back to Talokan and hopefully the two of you or rather the three of you could live in peace. But the agreement weighed heavily in his chest.

You knew nothing of this inner turmoil raging inside him because you tried not to care for it. You had your own inner turmoil to deal with.

"Once you are better, we'll be going to see a friend who is able to help you through your pregnancy," Slowly he stood from the bed and removing the cap from his head and placing it on the small nightstand where you had a bottle of water and some untouched mangos on a plate.

"She is very skilled in her field and if the child is a mutant she will be better equipped for the birth." Whenever he thought about the new queen of Wakanda only bitter memories came along that remembrance. He had what he most desired, just hair length away from his goal but because he wasn't truly careful. Namor had to swallow his pride and wait for the day the queen called for him and his army. He knew it was going to be a very long wait until he was called to arms and destroy the surface. And until that time came he will have built his legacy. A son or daughter it didn't matter to him what came out of your womb as long as his blood was running through its veins then he will forever be immortal. No one will ever question his power or his standing, Namora nor his people will ever doubt him again.

Whatever he wanted, you didn't care if it was a local doctor who knew about his existence you just wanted to feel better.

You peeked over your blanket at the sea king who continued to remove pieces of his clothing one by one. His shirt was the next to go giving you a view of his torso again. Did he tan? There was absolutely no way he managed to get this golden under water hidden away. He must've sunk to the surface once in a wile when he was getting pale and laid in the sand for a few hours. The image of him coming to the surface to tan made you snicker.

He paused when removing his pants staring back at you. Your eyes beaming with amusement, beaming at him. It made something in his chest ache but he pushed it to the back of his mind and continued to undress.

"What's so funny?" He pushed the clothing to the side and stood tall in his green trunks.

"Do you tan?" You dared ask as he slowly came back to sit by your side, making the bed dip a bit.

"Tan? This is my skin color," Raising a hand he brought it closer to her peeking eyes. Why would she think his skin was amusing?

"I just...thought that maybe you came up once in a while to tan. You know? The sun doesn't reach the inner depths of the ocean Namor," In a sing-like tone you pushed the blanket down revealing just how funny it was to you. The smile you had on your face looked bright, big and your cheeks were damn near about to split. And Namor found himself holding back his own smile of amusement.

"So...do you come here to tan?"

"I'm just tan-"

You laughed. "I didn't ask that! I asked, listen, I asked you if you tanned here on the surface to be that golden."

You had to bite your inner cheek because Namor was giving you this dirty look you didn't think he was capable of giving while holding back his smile.

Why did you find this so amusing was beyond him but the expression you wore and the things you were saying was too much even for him.

"Do you just float on your back or do you come onto the sand lay out a beach towel and have Attuma fan you with a palm leaf?" The snicker that left the both of you and Namor was surprising but it was a truly welcoming open door. He hid his smile behind his other hand looking away to compose himself and the other you took and sat straighter upon your pillows.

Once the fit of snickers and giggles and jokes from you stopped you both looked at each other with an unearthed emotion that the both of you wished never surfaced. Longing.

A desire to have and to yearn for something or someone. It was a need for someone and that someone for you was Namor. It was strange because no man made you feel like you were fragile like he did. Even before you got knocked up he was as gentle as he could be when speaking or even embracing you, he treated you like a prized woman. Not some dancing and singing harlot he could pay and pretend to be a man for. Despite the circumstances you both put yourselves in there was evidence that the longing the two of you had for one another was steadily growing in the pit of your womb.

Unknown to him, he too longed for the deadly woman, you, who held his hand so innocently. As if you were unknown to the many lives that hand took or how many times he imagined caressing your body with that hand. It may have been one night but that night was a gateway you both opened and it will never close again.

But perhaps that night can happen again? Not now of course but when you were better, not sick like this. He'll convince you then. Because he now knew your body, truly knew it. And he would use that to have you again and again until the child that was promised was born. Then you would disappear. Before that happens he'll have his fill.

----------

That morning, after that moment you shared, he came into bed with you. Not for sex but to lay and comfort you. The sick mother of his child. A mother. Were you considered a mother? After all you were pregnant. It still counts, right? Your hand traveled down your naked torso and stopped at the tiny hard bump in your lower abdomen. It was barely there but it was making its presence known. It was... a good feeling. Namor was laying on his side already asleep, or so you thought with the way his shoulders were steadily rising and falling. He did say he was just there to watch over you and help you if you felt sick again.

You didn't really need his help but just to have someone other than an unresponsive belly to talk to was comforting enough. Talking to your belly, was that normal? You never really had to carry another being inside you before nor did anyone prepare you for it. Running a hand over that tiny bump again you stilled over it. Was it normal to feel this longing for a small thing to come out? Or to long for its dad?

You dared rest your forehead against the middle of his broad back looking down at your belly beneath the blanket. A small thing like this will soon grow bigger and bigger until one day it'll be out and about crying out and leaving her for good. Like you both agreed to, this child will never see you nor acknowledge you as its mother. It'll never know you.

You'd be lying if you said it left you feelin a bit empty inside. Never to see the product of you and Namor again; never seeing Namor again. He was one of the only men who sought after your very body but for an entirely different reason. And even after he successfully took your body he remained by your side. An interesting man.

An interesting man who you shouldn't be with. He was dangerous.

Your face fell into a frown at the thought. No man has ever shared your bed this way. No man was ever allowed to touch you in the way a woman was meant to be touched, in a deeper, more permanent way that was something other than sexual. You were a siren, free of the rules of men and even the love of men. Unable to settle or nest because you were taught never to do it. Your wants and dreams were what mattered.

You were loved by one person and that was your mother. And even before she passed she made you swear never to get caught up with a baby or a man but here you were with both. She'd be turning in her grave.

Now you didn't know what to do as Namor slept by your side. You felt lost, and without the knowledge on how to get back to the right path. Was this a good idea?

If you were honest with yourself, you knew you didn't want him to ever go. But as always, you had to remain unattached. Or at the very least try.

The smell of him filled your nose as the sight of him filled your eyes, just a his body filled your own. He was taking in soft breaths filling the room with his breathing. Just as his child was inside your body filling and growing more each day. How was he filling up every area of your life? How were you able to rebel against him so much? To be selfish was better.

You reached for his tanned broad back refusing to acknowledge that your naked body was slowly molding against his back. To be selfish meant a life without ties, without a deal you both agreed upon, and it was so much better than what you'd seen others go through in their pursuits for love, affection, and a family life. Even Namor, the deadly sea king, Ku'kul'kan the feathered serpent god, an unstoppable man, had not been safe from the feelings of love and obligation. An obligation to strengthen his people and reassure that he would be forever. His reign even if he perishes will be forever. Yet, how culd a woman like you, remained unavailable to emotions that even a man such as Namor had allowed for himself?

To be selfish had to be better than to love. To stay unattached, had to be less troubling than to be tied down. By anyone. Words from a mother who loathed her daughter. And you stood by them.

When you were close you pressed your face into his back, felt his skin on yours, breathed in his scent and experienced the vibrations deep inside his body from the soft sounds he made as he slept. It was still early in the morning so the both of you were no doubt were tired. You from vomiting and heaving all night and early morning. Him from planning, negotiating and somewhat pleading for his child and its mother.

And for once you didn't rebel against your own thoughts with actions. Even when the soft snoring stopped, you didn't move away.

It was better to be selfish.

Namors eyes slowly opened and his body remained still. Your touch eased him out of sleep, a sleep he'd been a little surprised he'd fallen into after comforting you. Starring at the barely risen sun through the glass sliding doors, he accepted the reality that you were up against his back, almost as if you were a kitten who wanted to be petted. It was such a strange act coming from you, that it was hard to pull away.

"Y/N," he said your name softly still laced with sleep and deep.

You wanted to lift your arm, and pull him close. You wanted to adjust the sheets so your legs were flushed against each other and you wanted to feel his body naked against your own. But you didn't do it, because you...couldn't. You pride yourself with how you lived and how you stuck to your rules like glue. You prided yourself for the trait. But at what cost?

Remaining still and feeling the tiny bump of your belly against his back, Namor asked," What are you doing?"

Right now, you didn't know nor could you give him answer because it your emotions guiding your limbs. You were stuck in a strange place, that place that you dared not step foot in. A place where you questioned, and wondered about other things that were different from what you were taught.

"Do you ever wish that...for one night, even just one hour, that you could be someone else? Someone different?"

His mind raced, trying to decipher what you meant. But your mind had always been somewhat difficult to pinpoint because you were so unique. And now, you were completely different from your day to day self, even with him it was hard to figure out. "What do you mean?"

You bit your lip and thought it over. "I...don't know. Everything is different to what I am. Even when seeing people who aren't the same as me, having a child, a man, a functioning family, I can't understand it...I don't know how to change. I don't think I can alter."

The sea king drew his brows together and wondered if this was the same woman who he choose to impregnate. " Change is not always granted to us because we simply want it. At most, change is thrust upon us when we are not ready for it."

"Change is impossible." You muttered. You were a woman who changed everything constantly. But the one thing you could never change was yourself.

Namor didn't know where to begin with all of this you were spewing at him. He took the necessary steps to be here. Even with the war with Wakanda, taking the previous monarchs life, he will not regret it because it lead him to his siren, his surrogate. But if he could alter a few things he would. If it were ever possible to become a different person even if it was for one messily hour then he would not be a man of vengeance. He would make it go away.

For one hour, one night or da, he would make it all go away.

You pulled away from him the, turning to your other side and giving him your back as he'd done with you. Your hair felt poufy against the pillow, so wavy and uncombed from her time holding it up from vomiting and from tossing all night. But it was the least of your worries. The bigger thing to worry about was that Namor had turned over as well, your positions now reversed.

And you still couldn't shake yourself out of this weird funk that had pulled you in deep.

"Who do you want to be Y/N?"

Your little home was homey, clean now after you found out you were pregnant. Usually it was so unkept with clothes tossed about the floor, shoes, bras, dancing outfits, it was always a mess. But now it looked clean. But you found that it wasn't enough. You starred at the closed bathroom door," I was taught to stay free. Never to be caught up with affairs of a normal life because a normal life wasn't meant for someone like me. I stayed free, running all these years. I never once stopped,"

Something dark came upon Namor at the mention of her mother. Everything you were told and taught was from a woman who's husband left her to be with a normal human woman. What he took from your stories of your childhood and the lessons of your mother was that she loathed you, she hated that you had inherited her power and she could no longer keep your father entranced to stay with her. If you were a man, there would have been no issue.

These lessons were that from a jealous woman.

"What does your mother say that would hinder you? Trap you?"

You didn't hesitate to answer him because it was one of the lessons that she bore into you since the moment you could walk." Love. Love is...only meant for certain people, and shouldn't be taken lightly, or given away freely. Because then your freedom would be taken away," You hesitate a bit before continuing. "Sometimes certain people you can love are so few. So, one person is enough...they have to be. They won't tie you down or trap you." Did you sound silly? If you did, you didn't care. You were in this void, so you would use it to talk about things you'd never talk about with another person before.

"I can't...I can't connect to anyone. There's no room, no time, no effort."

Namor looked at your hair, cascading in waves against the pillow. Your skin looked darker against your baby blue sheets," Do you wish to be someone to connect to others?"

"No. But sometimes I wonder what it's like." Whether it was the truth or a lie you immediately responded.

He lifted a hand, ran it over the exposed skin of you shoulder and down the length of your arm pushing the blanket down with it." That is a feeling that can kill someone. Perhaps it's better that you don't know what it feels like."

You stayed still while he felt down your side, exposing your naked body. What was he trying do? This wasn't what you both agreed upon. You were already pregnant so there was nothing to gain from being intimate again.

"What are you doing?" Now it was your turn to ask him.

Namor said nothing as he continued to slide his hand further down past your hip and to your thigh. While you were feeling better already, you felt a fire start to ignite in the pit of your stomach. His hand went back up to your hip and stayed there, then he decided to scoot closer to your back moving the blanket back over the both of you so your bodies were meshed together. Meaning, what you so desperately wanted to do earlier when pressed against his back he did to you.

He slid one of his legs in-between the two of yours and spooned you. If it was just for one night, one day, or even one hour he will pretend. Pretend that the both of you deserved to feel that you both belonged, you both were accepted that the feelings between the two of you were answered. It was the least he could do.

As much as you wanted to say this was an expected outcome, it wasn't. This conversation shouldn't have happened, but it did. He shouldn't have stayed to comfort you after watching you throw up the contents of yesterdays dinner, but he did. You both shouldn't be laying in bed like two couples making up for lost time, but you were. And now you realized that this, his touch, his warm embrace were the things you missed. You craved it.

That powerful hand slid over the bump of your hip and to the tiny baby bump that held not just his child, but yours. This was what he wanted. An heir to rule his kingdom by his side, with the power of both a god and a powerful siren, unstoppable. But he did want the woman that carried that powerful being, you. He wanted what he knew he could not have and that's what made this transaction between the two of you that much more covetous. You belonged to your rules and he was willing to rip you away from them.

"Let's pretend, for an hour. That you are all that you wish to be and I am all that I wish to be," His lips were on your should in an instant kissing it. "You will be a woman who wants to give love and understand others. I will be the man who receives your love and will help you to understand."

This was a ridiculous way to ask you to sleep with him but it was one that you somewhat understood. Talking was cheap, actions was what got you somewhere. "You want...us to pretend we're...together?"

"No. That's not what I said. Pretend you are a woman who is a woman and I will be a man who is a man. Like that night? I know you remember it as vividly as I do," He spoke lowly trailing his lips up to your ear that was hidden under the tresses of your hair," Pretend. And I'll touch you however you want to be touched Y/N."

There was temptation here and pleasure but there was also another rule breaking. You got the job done so...why again? It wasn't like him to give you yet another opportunity to give in to your wants and needs. Did he miss being intimate with you?

"W-we had one night. A few moments," Words were coming out but it was as if you were on autopilot. The mouth could move all it wanted, a thousand words spoken, but the desires of the body could overpower it all. Like it had previously.

During this time, you nor him realized that you both were resonating with one another. Calling one another from the darkest depths of the sea and now the great serpent answered the sirens call, a life in return for pleasure. And maybe he will take a little more before he was consumed.

Slowly his hand went up, fingertips brushing against your naval, tickling and touching the sirens skin before reaching one of the breasts that his unborn child will never suckle from. You took in a hiss of a breath when he encased it with his hand, thumb brushing against the sensitive little nub. "I'm already pregnant, I don't need this Namor,"

"Say my name." His lips were still whispering by your ear. Somehow he managed to slip his other arm under the pillow you rested your head on and put you in a lazy headlock. His veiny forearm lightly pressed against your neck , the sea king wanted you, and he wanted to take you so you knew just how well he could 'pretend'.

His name wasn't Namor but Ku'kul'kan. And he wanted you to say his true name like that night, you said it over and over again until it sounded like gibberish falling from your lips. Namor found great pleasure when he heard his name sung from your lips like a hymn, a hymn that was meant just for him.

Releasing a soft breath you shook your head. No, this wouldn't be like the last time because the last time you were blinded by lust, greed and overall was just sexually frustrated. You weren't this time. The lust, the hunger was always there and still was but that other feeling you never wanted to feel was nagging at the back of your mind. Longing.

Longing for what could be and what will be. To pretend the bot of you felt the same at least for an hour...an hour should be enough.

"Ku'kul'kan," You whispered softly closing your eyes. You fell back into the headspace of what could be while chanting his name in your sing song voice that lured men to their deaths but for him it just sounded beautiful. It was only for a bit, pretend for a bit.

"Let me touch you mujer fatal,"

"Touch me then, touch me here," You took his hand that played with your breast back down to your pelvis, past the trimmed curls," Here. Touch here."

Without missing a beat he slid his thick fingers through those soft curls at her pelvis and was welcomed by a pooling wet heat. So you were excited. He was gentle in his exploration, caressing, rubbing, tapping and flicking of your clit. Thankfully his leg was keeping your parted because there were a few instances that you wanted to close your legs and mewl out in ecstacy. Namors second exploration of your body lead him a few conclusions, you enjoyed being handled like this barely having any say in how you were positioned. Secondly, this thing the two of you had between the two of you excited you. The pretending wasn't what excited you, it was the relationship you had brewing. Forget the agreement, forget the rules, outside of that you liked that you carried his child and you liked the attention you were receiving from him. He knew deep down in that cold heart of yours that this was what you wanted.

Your soft breaths were what kept him going touching every inch of your cunt before deciding that it was enough, he slipped in two of his digits making you arch. It's been forever since you were touched like this and over a month since he laid hands on you so intimately like this. His hand took your chin and forced your head to tilt to look up at him, and through hazy eyes you saw his bright chocolate eyes that smiled down at you. That feeling came up again like bile at the back of your throat. Longing.

That longing to be normal and have normal feelings for another person, that longing to be one with another and love another. But that feeling, longing, was a feeling you were forbidden to feel. After all, there was no room for it. No room for the effort you had to put in in order to achieve what you most desired and it was to be taken and loved on...but still be free.

You released a quick moan when his fingers found that certain spot that made your toes curling in pleasure. When he heard the moan his chocolate eyes grew sharp when he found the perfect spot to bring you to your end. Faster his fingers went, curling and uncurling inside you flicking that one spot over and over again. Now, you were gripping his wrists for dear life never breaking eye contact even when you breathlessly begged him.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," You whispered craving for more of his touch, accepting it.

Namor grinned, chocolate eyes full of victory. "Did you know Y/N," He began deeply, pressing his mouth to your ear," that when a woman tell as man not to stop, it means he has found the exact rhythm she uses when she pleasures herself?"

He pressed harder, rubbed faster and you all but purr." Don't...stop." You moaned again.

Everything you were doing and saying was maddening. Namor looked down at your mouth again, focused on it and craved it. He eased on the motions of his hand, and knew he needed to take from you now.

Namor leaned in without any hesitation, and kissed her.

There was absolutely nothing soft about it, as their kiss had lacked gentleness as well. The act was only to use, only to take and only to taste. Instantly, your mouths opened against one another, instantly your tongues met. Namor could taste the sweet sin that lured men to you, could taste the desire, and he almost felt the need to pull away. Almost. But your mouth was giving even as you demanded more of him, you sucked his lips before accepting his tongue again.

His hand no longer forced you to keep your head tilted, he eased that hand down to your breast and gave it another squeeze, he couldn't get enough. "It's so good," you whispered between kissing him, your mouth open against his as your tongues met and licked each other," Why is it so good?"

Namor pulled away from your mouth, and your enticing voice, moved to your neck and sucked you there with all the desperate drive of a man with a time limit. His fingers helped you soar to new heights as they maneuvered between your wet folds, his thumb surprised you and rubbed your swollen bud with precise flicks. You hummed deeply while exposing your neck more to feel those lips of his taste your flesh and mark it. It wasn't enough for Namor, he wanted more of you.

Pulling back he gave your neck a lick before finally whispering back," No man will have you like this Y/N, you carry my seed, I will fill you up as many times as I have to, to make you understand."

You were already on the brink, his forefinger and thumb played with your sensitive nipples," It feels 'so good' because you want it to feel good Y/N." Your voice went higher and your body began to tremble. Before you knew it you were crying out with your true voice, the call of the deep, the call of a siren being pleased by the very man who impregnated her.

There was no better feeling to Namor than watching your red lips spill his true name in a song. Your juices spilled from you drenching his hand, as you settled from your high you found the strength to keep your gaze locked on his. While you were panting desperately trying to catch your breath he went on to make you lose it some more when he pulled his soaked fingers from your center and did the one thing you didn't know would turn you on.

He slid those fingers that were soaked in your nectar across his tongue, tasting you. The taste of a fully willing woman tasted explosive on his tongue, it was your taste, the woman who devoured men was being tasted by the man who planned on being devoured by the alluring siren.

Namore continued to taste you off his fingers with an unwavering look that told you to watch him, and to witness just how delicious you were to him if he devoured you. He wondered just how a woman who was normally tough and blithe could look as innocent as you did, an expression that had nothing to do with the words you said during sex or your own actions.

Your face...your face was capable of giving him all he could ask for.

But would he be able to ask from you more than what you've already given? The dreamy look on your face could convince him that you'd say yes to anything he'd ask but he knew better than to push you.

As you basked in the afterglow of a much needed orgasm you couldn't help but caress his forearms, his hands that smoothed over your thighs and belly. Did pretending always feel this nice? Were they truly pretending, right now?

Longing could do a lot to a person. Fix them up to be great and do better.

Or it could break an already fragile relationship into pieces, that could never be put together again.

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

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[faustianfascination]

IkePri: The Unhappy Ending

Shared this angst fuel and @scummy-writes suggested I post it here, so here's some misery for everyone! This isn’t a full fic, just a rough idea I’m rambling about after being balls deep in angsty novels where an AFAB MC, chooses Chevalier as king but can't escape the political scheming at court and it destroys them.

TW: angst, enforced multiple marriages, assassination, miscarriage, depression, s*icide

Belle chooses her king, it's a love story that brings joy to all who hear it.

However, what happens after? As much as your king loves you, you're still a commoner with no backing, no family and with an uproar at court that threatens his authority something comes to pass. Like the previous king, he has to take a consorts from several of the more prestigious families to quell the dissent and secure your safety as Queen. They will not be granted the title queen, that is only for you and your beloved seems more heartbroken than you at this development. But, this is court life, court politics and no matter what you tried to do, there was no other solution that allowed you safety. So your beloved welcomes his new consorts to court.

You decided to be the bigger person, try to make friends with the new women you will have to share your husband with, but it is clear they hold nothing but contempt for you. Even going so far as to publicly disrespect you for your lowly origins and lack of nobility, shaming your efforts and making it clear that you do not belong in this world. But, your beloved King defends you and ejects them from the palace.

However there are consequences. An important trade deal falls through, taxes from other nobles are withheld and many other sabotages take place, despite Chevalier's skills and even with all the princes on your side the country needs to appease those with connections. So they are welcomed back, and finally it comes to the first night he has to spend with each because this was another clause that was negotiated and it could no longer be avoided.

It hurts, those nights you fall asleep crying but feel guilty because you know that your beloved is being coerced into something he does not want and is taking the brunt of it all. You wake up to your beloved comforting you and trying to make it better. This is for the kingdom after all, you know he has a duty and this is painful for both of you, but the kingdom must come first, that is the deal you agreed to when you chose to love him.

Eventually you both get used to the new routine, although you feel your authority as Queen is being undermined; your lack of political education and connections, no powerful family backing you so you feel somewhat excluded from the day to day running of things. But, you accept it, do your best to learn so you can do better, be better and after all you are the one with the kings heart. This is your safety, security, but it also puts the biggest target on your back. The other consorts may cause you to be a bit ostracised from social circles, because what noble really wants to go to a tea party with a commoner. Then finally, one joyous day you find out that you're pregnant, you will be the one to give your beloved his first heir. You're both happy, for the first time in a long time things feel right again.

Until you miscarry. Someone slipped poison into your tea, and thanks to that you may never be able to get pregnant again. It's a blow, it leaves you depressed for months, realising the maids you had come to trust sold you out at the first opportunity. Heads roll throughout the castle, but deep down you have an idea why it happened and who was behind it, this becomes more evident when the consorts say words of condolence but cannot hide the triumphant glint in their eyes. But your rivals are too powerful to fight. The king orders that your condition is protected, no one finds out that you may be infertile, however somehow it gets out still and creates a world of turmoil both in court and in public opinion.

An infertile Queen? How terrible, a queen who was barely doing her job to begin with and now cannot even do the very thing she must for the security and the kingdom? There is outcry, anger but your king protects you as best he can. But with the cries growing louder and the concerns mounting day by day he realises no matter how he feels, the king needs an heir, it's his duty. It's what he must do for the kingdom. It breaks your heart more, but you realise that you married a king and that he is doing his duty. So you swallow your pain even though it's killing you.

Months later is the happy news, a consort is pregnant. Soon the power shifts more, even with the kings favour you are alone, powerless, childless and you feel the palace become a colder and colder place. Your maids no longer hide their contempt, even the few friends you have made sense the shift in power. You may have the kings love, but you are all alone.

Then the baby is born, a healthy happy prince who is the spitting image of his father. The boy you are allowed to briefly greet for fears over his safety from a jealous queen who may try to eliminate the threat to her power. Because that is what this game is, and you realise too late that you've been playing without the pieces.

You see a scene that shatters what is left of your heart. The beautiful noble consort, in her arms a prince and your beloved looking like they are the ones that truly belong together, what a royal family should look like, love never really mattered for the equation did it? You feel like you may die right there from the pain.

Soon there are demands that the position of queen is given to the woman who is actually a noble, has given your beloved a prince, who has actually done her duty. The beautiful love story of a simple commoner turning a beast to a human is now remembered as the schemes of shameless woman, aiming above her station and throwing the stability of the nation into chaos for her own desires. Denying the king his true family.

A plot is discovered, someone attempts to assassinate the most powerful consort and first prince. Everything is ironclad and leads back to you. It leads to the execution of Sariel and the exile of Rio a lost Benotite prince (saved by the connections of another consort, you couldn't even save your best friend) you're last true allies at court. Even though your beloved knows that you would never do this, knows that you are innocent trying to prove it is another matter.

You aren't locked up in the dungeons, exiled to an annex in the palace grounds while your beloved and his brothers do their best to prove your innocence. But the stain on your reputation is already there, no matter the truth you will always be the jealous queen who tried to kill the infant first prince. All the years of pain finally bubble to the surface, how much you have sacrificed, had stolen from you. All for loving the king. You still love him so and that makes it all the worse, but all that is left now is pain. Resentment and regrets. Your love begins to turn to hate, not directed at him, but you. You for being such a fool, clause 99 existed for a reason, for this very reason. Love cannot overcome all, your stations too different, your lives too different and now despite all your efforts, your making the kings life harder, destabilising his rule by existing. Most of all, it just hurts too much, it's been so long since you felt like you, not a hollow shell existing. So you do the only thing that you can to alleviate some pressure on him, you beloved. You stop existing.

Except, you don't.

You wake up, back in the days of being Belle, back in the days where your love is young, happy and you have hope. But the woman who wakes up as Belle again is no longer the girl who chose a king, she's broken, jaded and so overwhelmed that Rio finds you sobbing, inconsolable for hours but you cannot even explain why. In the days that follow everyone notices the change, especially your beloved, it's like you've become a different person.

Perhaps this is a fresh start? Maybe you can have your happy ending? Or maybe you know that no matter what you do, there is no happy ending. What do you do? You avoid Chev, you can't face him knowing what you know, seeing Sariel and Rio shatters you with guilt and in the swirl of all these emotions the whispers of a black tiger at a ball both long ago and yet to happen come to mind. He offered you an out, an escape but he was a worldwide disaster, even his kindness is deadly, but would it be as deadly as repeating the past?

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Empty Nest part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-You took a deep breathe, stretching in the bed you were resting in. It’s been centuries since you had slept. You open your eyes, vision a little blurry. You groan as the memories of the previous night come back to you.

Fuck, you wanted to start a family…but was it the best idea to choose Sebastian? You roll your shoulders and sit up. With a quick look around, you find Sebastian entering the room, fully clothed and holding a silver plate, it had a cover so you couldn’t see what was in it. He locked eyes with you and gave you a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke softly as if you were a cornered animal that he didn’t want to startle. “I hoped to have breakfast ready before you woke up but I had to attend to the young Master, I hope you understand.”

You raise an eyebrow. Breakfast? You weren’t hungry, demons can go ages without food, you don’t have a use for human food aside from pleasure, you’d need a-

You freeze and take a deep inhale, recognizing the scent.

It’s…a soul? Where did he get one so fast? Did he go hunting after you fell asleep??

You couldn’t help the that your mouth was watering, it smelled so good, the love, hatred, sadness, anger, fear…you could tell from just the scent whoever he targeted had lived a full life, they’d be delicious…

Which led to your current concern.

Why was he offering you this? Demons don’t like sharing their meals, it’s difficult and not nearly as filling, so why would he go through the extra work? You sneer st him. “Funny, Sebastian. But you already got what you wanted, right? There’s no reason for you to do me a ‘favor’ now is there? I fucked you silly last night and you’re giving me breakfast in bed? Yeah right, what do you want?”

You really didn’t mean to sound so defensive but you were worried, was he just trying to get your guard down to hurt you? Was he trying to get you to sleep with him again? Is he that desperate for your touch?

Sebastian gives you confused look, grabbing a tray from god knows where and set it up, then placed the plate on it, taking the cover off to let you see the soul. It shined so beautifully and you wanted to tear into it, but you wouldn’t until you knew there were no clauses.

“Well, not particularly, no. I just want you to be safe, you can’t hunt while pregnant after all, right? I don’t want the love of my life to go hungry.” You grinned at his choice words…this…was odd, but well intended?

You ease back down onto the bed, still choosing not to eat, you could still hunt! But…you did owe Sebastian an apology…

“I’m not hungry and I can still hunt until I show signs, you should eat though, souls taste best fresh.” You pause taking a deep breath before talking again. “Also, sorry I got…upset with you,” A soft smile stretches across your lips as you look him in the eye. “Want a kiss to make up for it?”

Sebastian’s eyes lit up and his smile widened. “Would that be ok?” You nod and Sebastian leans down to give you a kiss, you reciprocate the motion, being gentle with it and letting his touch linger over you for a few more seconds. If it made him feel better, then why not, it’s not like it’s bothering you anyway. Sebastian gently climbed onto the bed with you again, placing his head on your shoulder.

You held the ‘snack’ in your hands and motioned for him to come closer for another kiss. You placed it in your mouth, when Sebastian opens his mouth you quickly slip half of it into his mouth and hold him there with a grin. You make him bite off half before pulling away. You swallowed the half you had fast, Sebastian is just sitting there starting at you in surprise.

“Eat it, I only wanted half.” You say and he obeys. He goes to thank you but you interrupt. “Thank you for the food.” You start to get up deciding now was the time to get out of bed. Sebastian gently eases you down.

“You’re not sore? You feel ok, right?” You know what he’s applying and nod. You say you’re fine and get up, deciding to explore the manor today. Sebastian quickly followed you, almost like a dog…

(Next tba)

[scuderlia]

guys we have to protect charles, carlos is going to try and get him pregnant to activate the baby daddy clause in his contract

[trickricksblog08]

BREAKING: A federal judge in Texas has ruled that the $1.7 TRILLION spending bill the house passed in 2022 was unconstitutional because Democrats passed the bill without establishing a quorum "In sum, the Court concludes that this case is justiciable and that the House of Representatives’ passage of the Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2023 violated the Quorum Clause." "The Court orders that the Attorney General, the United States Department of Justice, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, Charlotte A. Burrows, Jocelyn Samuels, Keith E. Sonderling, Andrea R. Lucas, Christopher W. Lage, their divisions, bureaus, agents, officers, commissioners, employees, and anyone acting in concert or participation with them, including their successors in office, are permanently enjoined from enforcing the Pregnant Workers Fairness Act"



5:26 PM · Feb 27, 2024

[witchofthesouls]

Someone please give D.C.!AU Soundwave a medal and a drink for dealing with the shenanigans. Also have to wrangle Tarn's general Tarn-ness.

First he had to deal with the donar clause was activated by Tarn and Tarn imprinted?! Wait he's seeker-kin and a has been a tank for ages." The telepath knows exactly why stascream was torn between lsughter and tears. Which means he has to be constantly be on guard that Tarn might try to trine with Lord Megatron.

Then he had to do with the twice accidentally very married couple being well married and also expecting more bitties. He knows in his spark his cassettes are to blame somehow regardless of the lack of evidence.

Then the chaos on board the nemasis caused by Tarn bringing back a pregnant conjux and a flock of bitties. Tarn being hyper protective made everything super hazardous just existing on the same ship. At least they gained two hyper compatatent medics. Even if Tarn's sexual tension was so high Soundwave had to take active measures to prevent three quarters of the ship from entering heats or ruts.

Then the Overlord Incident(s) culminating in premature newsparks, one very dead Overlord, an Soundwave discovering This nurse isn't some agent assassin, Camians, especially medical professionals, are just like that. Also that Camus has hazards that are insane and the planet is best avoided.

Speaking of which he had to browbeat Megatron into encouraging Tarn and the Nurse to call the Nurse's Mentor/Foster-sire so he could meet the bitties because Soundwave will be damned if he ends up gunning for the cause because of a misunderstanding. Also perhaps they can arange for him to teach medical techniques.

To top it all off inspite of the fact Tarn's dangerous broken coding and the couple are literally spark resonants powerful enough to smash through two layers of outlier grade baffels, Megatron wants the nurse to consider other potential sires or code doners since they are capable of kindling.

And all of this mess was basically caused because Tarn was a touch starved socially isolated virgin who wrote the damn doner clause with such specificity. Soundwave and Starscream have already pushed through amendments that allow the carrier to have their choice of potential doners amoung the unit responsible for the sire's demise.

The Donor Clause Au is such a mess. It has different versions at this point, depending on the take like 'What if Tarn had to be present at officer meetings," "What if Megatron was a High Priest of Megatronus Prime," and the current thought of "What if sparklings were ridiculously rare on Cybertron because Reasons."

In the verse where sparklings are super rare as in one newspark per full carriage (not the back-to-back-to-back clutches of three), Soundwave gets all the spiked tea he wants, his own spike milked by hand as he's one of the few mechs that 1) you actually like outside of the Peaceful Tyranny and 2) Tarn pre-approved in a very detail breakdown of very short over acceptable mechs in case your legal spouse isn't around, and he gets chirpy sparklings crawling into his lap.

Purring and happy with simple, one-tracked minds and emotions that don't give Soundwave migraines or induce distaste. He actually indulges the little ones as they paint his legs or tug on his plates or, in the case of the sparkling with a mess of a mouth full of sharp teeth, Soundwave utilizes his more heavily protected data-cables for the bitty to chew on.

Soundwave has never thought of parenthood as tapedecks can't carry sparklets, and finding a mech with a viable gestational chamber is akin to becoming a long-standing reigning Champion of Kaon, but...

Soundwave also nips those family yearnings because then he would need to deal with Tarn as a potential code-sharer along with your own idiosyncrasies as a Camien. Nor does he want to constantly deal with Ravage's and Ratbat's complaints of Tarn's super-charged, lust-addled repression. While the leader of the Justice Division may have the iron control to keep his highly charged field to his plating, any mech with a finely tuned sense of smell, like the majority of beastformers, would sneeze at Tarn's presence.

(If Tourniquet is around, the Hub would be fielding an immense influx of comms ranging from the Camien Healer's approval to take Decepticon personnel onto hazardous planetoids for a 'complete training experience,' Hook's bombardment of pulling the colonists into his division, and a flood of troops' terrified complaints/hopeful messages thanks as the Healer would literally hunt and drag any mech into his care, kicking and screaming with an unholy sense of cheer.)

The Cassettes, despite their denial, do get jealous the sheer amount of racket all six bitties make when the Justice Division troops back. No amount of patty cake, violent nursery rhymes, and edible paint will match the warmth and deep rumble of Tarn's frame or the Pet's yankable mane.

The bitties are defiantly chirping at their imprisoned state, being trapped by hard-light in mess hall.

As everyone goes through the usual song-and-dance because the mechs want to pick up a sparkling, but you're already at gate as a grim, no nonsense warden because the Justice Division are filthy from gore, dust, and dirt. You're on a third carriage and have no wants to deal with a sick clutch on top of it because the sparklings would try to lick it off a random, filthy armor piece.

It's usually easier to shoo Tesarus and Helex into Nickel's awaiting care, considering those two are the messiest and have a habit of inconsistent personal care. Kaon has his servos full tugging the Pet away to the communal showers. Vos enjoys being an ass because you tend to nick his cables with quick swipes of a scalpel as Tarn lingers and winds up both clutches over their papa and uncle.

Meanwhile, Soundwave is trying to make his escape because he knows Tarn is thinking about cuddles and you're projecting filthy X-rated scenes, but he's trapped by social convention and that sparkling still chewing on his data-cable.

Nurse blames the alcohol for the second clutch as well as disbelief since you shouldn't have sparked up. Not that fast.

The third clutch was just plain weakness because you could have put your pede down and stayed on the ship. But you didn't (and you're not thinking about the implications, no sir, not at all, you're most definitely not thinking about the taste of your legal Conjux's Energon and how his neck-cables felt beneath your denta-)

Tarn can be dense/oblivious as the Head of Idiot Sandwiches. Still doesn't know he had imprinted. He just knows he enjoys Nurse's company and the family life and feels more well-rested even with the chaos. (Aka his Seekerkin-coding is finally getting sociality it has been screaming for by latching onto a carrier-mate and resulting bitties). Tarn is patting himself on the back, being an excellent donor and upholding Decepticon creed, and thanks to Lord Megatron's clarification, he will do his Conjunxal duties!

(Cue everyone else staring at this walking disaster that's in deep denial he's been doing the enthusiastic husband role for a long while already, and Kaon is still awaiting for the orn that Tarn and Nurse will figure out their true feelings until then he has his evidence board, holos, and all the gifts under his floorboards that he's slowly giving to the intended couple.

The communication specialist was giddy, and Sixshot had done a sigh of relief when Tarn, miracles of miracles, had finally given into the impulse to bite a coaxing door-wing. The result had the poor guy hailing Nickel because your reaction was intense.)

High Command is in a deadlock on whether or not to update the Donor Clause, considering said ridiculousness is highly effective.

[silver-screen-divas]

Soon after Gardner arrived in Los Angeles, she met fellow MGM contract player Mickey Rooney; they married on January 10, 1942. The ceremony was held in the remote town of Ballard, California because MGM studio head Louis B. Mayer was worried that fans would desert Rooney's Andy Hardy movie series if it became known that their star was married. Gardner divorced Rooney in 1943, citing mental cruelty; privately blaming his gambling and womanizing, she didn't ruin his on-screen image as the clean-cut, judge's son Andy Hardy that the public adored.

Gardner's second marriage was equally brief, to jazz musician and bandleader Artie Shaw, from 1945 to 1946. Shaw previously had been married to Lana Turner. Gardner's third and last marriage was to singer and actor Frank Sinatra from 1951 to 1957. She later said in her autobiography that he was the love of her life. Sinatra left his wife Nancy for Gardner, and their marriage made headlines.

Sinatra was blasted by gossip columnists Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons, the Hollywood establishment, the Catholic Church, and by his fans for leaving his wife. Gardner used her considerable influence, particularly with Harry Cohn, to get Sinatra cast in his Oscar-winning role in From Here to Eternity (1953). This role and the award revitalized both Sinatra's acting and singing careers.

The Gardner-Sinatra marriage was tumultuous. Gardner confided to Artie Shaw, her second husband, that, "With him [Frank], it's impossible...It's like being with a woman. He's so gentle. It's as though he thinks I'll break, as though I'm a piece of Dresden china, and he's gonna hurt me." During their marriage, Gardner became pregnant twice, but aborted both pregnancies. "MGM had all sorts of penalty clauses about their stars having babies", according to her autobiography, which was published eight months after her death. Gardner filed for divorce in 1954, and the divorce was finalized in 1957. Following their divorce, Gardner and Sinatra remained good friends for the rest of her life. Of the support Sinatra gave Gardner, Ian McKellen commented that "If you have been married to Frank Sinatra, you don't need an agent".