#ball exercise for pregnant woman

[pregnancycounselors]

What are the best pregnancy ball exercises? Learn its benefits of relieving back pain, enhancing flexibility, and preparing for childbirth.

[bigification]

Prom King

"We want to welcome you back to Fairway High for your ten year reunion. Come catch up with some old friends and share all the amazing adventures you've had since you graduated! And stick around for a special speech from our Prom King and Queen."

Dan shuddered as he read the email. He had completely forgotten about the stupid reunion. It's funny, he thought, he used to imagine how he would show up to the reunion in a sports car with a perfect bod and high end clothes hugging his muscles. But that was back when he was the most popular football player in his town. Parents adored him, popular teens idoled him, and nerds feared him. Things have changed a lot for Dan since then.

He stared at his half naked body, ravaged by the bad habits of an ex jock. His appetite stayed after he graduated high school, but the exercise didn't last long. He went off to study business in college, as any high school jock did. His time spent at football practice turned to frat parties and junk food, which quickly showed on his waistline. It really put a dent in his once untouched ego, especially once people nicknamed him as 'freshman' fifty. It wasn't quite fifty pounds, at least not in his first year. It sure was well over that by the time he graduated though. And in that time, his clean shaven body had been buried in thick dark hair from head to toe. Although he didn't entirely mind the more mature look, especially once his beard grew in, it complemented his growing gut. Though Dan took another sizable cut to his ego when he started to go bald at the ripe age of 20. Comb overs only lasted him so long, so he started shaving it when he was in his senior year.

He always said it built character, which to be fair, he was far less awful after graduating college than he was in high school. The email only made him remember how awful he was back then. He was the typical jock with his possy of suck up football players who had no personality and the most popular girls. He would torment anyone who was even slightly chubby, or even just smart, they were all beneath him in his mind. How were people gonna react when he shows up to the reunion looking 9 months pregnant and about to burst. It horrified him at the thought of them treating him how he treated them.

Then the horrifying thought hit him, "I'm the Prom King!" He shouted out loud at him in the mirror. Not only would he have to show his face, and gut, he would have to stand on stage in front of his entire graduating year and say a speech about being Prom King. He would be a laughing stock.

"I have to do something about this." He thought.

The reunion was still two weeks away, he could workout, or diet, or maybe buy some clothes that hide his fat. He did a frantic search online but everything just seemed like a scam. He scrolled through page after page of scam supplement and intense workout regimen until he found something interesting. A witch who lived nearby. A witch who specializes in body modifications. It was drastic, but could be crazy enough to work.

Dan contacted the witch with a request to make him into an absolute jock, the kind of man his high school friends would expect him to be 10 years later.

After a bit of back and forth, an appointment was set, and Dan went to bed happy.

The day of the appointment came in a flash. Dan threw on his classic base ball cap to cover his balding head, and dressed in some gym clothes that he thought would look sick on his new hunky body. He excitedly hopped in his car and drove down to the witches house. To his surprise, it was just a regular apartment in a regular apartment building. He was expecting some evil looking house, but seemed less intimidating anyway. He knocked on the door, and he was met with yet another surprise. A petite and nice looking woman wearing all black opened the door.

"Come in darling." Her voice was enchanting. "Sit." She continued in a soft but commanding tone.

Dan sat in a small chair in front of an antique looking table. The raggedy wooden chair creaked under his weight as the witch sat across from him.

"So... You say you want a strong, manly, and attractive appearance?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Well for what it's worth, you're much more attractive than you used to be." A cold breeze blew past Dan as she spoke.

"Oh... Thank you." His cheeks reddened at the comment.

"I do have to warn you, there are some... dangers to this spell." Her tone darkens.

Dan just raised his eyebrows.

"There are people who feed off of a witch's magic. Now I know how to avoid them, but I will be imbuing this magic into you. So you may have a target on your back from people trying to steal your magic."

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Just don't draw too much attention to yourself." The witch warned. "Anyway. I'll get on with it."

She dipped her hands in a small bowl that was laid on the table. "Stand up." She commanded, and Dan followed. She walked around to Dan's side of the table, fingers wet from whatever was in the bowl. She pressed her fingers into his forehead, and it felt like all the tension in his body vanished in a split second. In fact, all feeling seemed to vanish in Dan's body, leaving him stood exactly still. Something about being frozen should have scared him, but he felt a strange sense of calm in the moment.

The witches fingers traced down Dan's face, through his beard and over his soft man tits. She lifted the finger and firmly pressed it back down into his chest. It was like the air was pushed out of his chest as the fat on his moobs collapsed in on itself, leaving his chest completely flat. She then pulled her finger outward, and his pecs grew as she pulled. The muscle swelled until two juicy pecs pressed hard against his tang top. Dan was shocked, he couldn't believe it actually worked, although he still couldn't move.

The witch then traced her finger down to his gut. She laid the palm of her hand against it and pushed, causing his belly to vanish in a second. And once again, she pulled her hand back to form a defined six pack over his flat stomach. She moved her finger around his side, melting away his love handles and giving him a thin waist.

She then suddenly sped up, as if she hit her stride. Her hands gripped Dan's soft arms, and suddenly definition appeared on his rapidly growing biceps. They grew to the size of melons as his shoulders broadened to match. Good thing he wore a tang top or else his sleeves would be in shreds on the floor. Her hands slid down his forearms, doubling their size in the process, and she held his hands, making them so massive they could completely cover his face.

She then bent down and grabbed his thighs, causing them to thicken to the point that Dan couldn't separate them anymore. She thickened his calves as she moved to his feet, making them burst out of his shoes as they grew to a monstrous size 20. As she stood back up, Dan realized the witch stood at eye level to his pecs when they used to be the same height.

The witch then wrapped her arms around Dan's hulking body and cupped his ass cheeks, making them expand into two thick globes of fat that threatened to rip through his shorts. One hand then came back and gripped Dan's dick, making it grow and thicken until it was a massive 10 inches and hanging down his pant leg.

Finally, her hand lifted up to Dan's face, making a few adjustments to match his body. A thicker beard, a sharper jawline, a slightly bigger head to match his much bigger body, and thick brown hair on his head.

Dan gasped as he regained control of his body. He teetered back and forth as he tried to get used to his new body. His legs felt strong, holding up his immense muscle mass with ease. He even struggled to move his arms around at first because it was difficult to move that amount of mass. His meaty hands took a moment to explore his expansive body; bouncing his pecs and his ass, gripping his cock, and even rubbing through the short brown hair that now covered his head.

"How are ya feeling handsome?" The witch broke the silence.

"Are you kidding me, I feel amazing!" Dan flexed, as if to show off his body like a new toy.

"Well I'm glad you like it, now we should talk abou-" the witch was interrupted as Dan basically ran out the door.

"I'll be fine, thank you!" The sound of his voice got quieter as he shut the door behind him.

On his way home, Dan excitedly stopped by a retail store to grab some clothes that actually fit. He confidently strolled in with his tang top riding up his hairy six pack, and shorts that were clearly too small for him. He picked up a few clothes that were big enough to fit him, but small enough to leave little to the imagination about his physique. The clothes weren't exactly pretty, but nobody would care about the clothes when his hunky body was the one wearing them. He even flirted with the cashier on the way out, making his cheeks flush red.

He swiftly made it home and passed out like he had just had the workout of his life.

He woke up the next morning, feeling like he was still in a dream. He shot out of bed as if he'd had three cups of coffee already. This was how he spent every morning leading up to the reunion. Dan was more productive this week than he had been in years. His looks quickly got him a modest following on Instagram, and even on onlyfans after his followers pestered him enough. He reconnected with a bunch of his old friends from high school, just to build a rapport with them before the reunion. And he spent most nights partying and staying the night at some strangers house. By the time the reunion rolled around, it was as if he was the same person he was in high school. Hot, athletic, cocky as hell, and maybe just a bit nicer than he was back in high school. So much for 'building character'.

Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the reunion. He had been prepping for this all week, there was no way he could mess it up now. Dan was meant to be the Prom King. He wore a snug pair of jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a grey shirt that showed off his juicy pecs, and finally threw on the letter jacket he wore when he was Prom King ten years prior.

He pulled up to the reunion in his shitty, half broken down car and parked as far out of the way as possible just so no one could see the piece of shit he drove. He pushed open the door to the venue and walked past the crowd of people as if all eyes were on him, because they were. Everyone who was anyone knew who the Prom King was.

He strolled to the back of the stage, so he could get ready for his speech. He stood alone, in silence for a moment, trying to hype himself up. Even after the amazing week he has had, it was the same insecure fat ex jock under there who was scared that everyone would laugh at him onstage. But his moment of silence was interrupted when loud footsteps approached him from behind.

An older man strolls into the backstage, walking right past Dan as if he wasn't there. Dan grimaced as the man got close, seeing the man's large ball belly hanging out of his shirt, which seemed to have multiple buttons popped off. "What is this pig doing here?" Dan couldn't help but think of the old man. The old man promptly sat down in a chair near Dan, leaning back and pulling the shirt up his gut, as if to show it off.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Dan yelled as he got fed up with the old man's antics.

"Oh, you don't know who I am?" The man said as he continued to adjust himself in the seat.

"Why would I know some loser like you, are you the Prom Queens dad or something." Dan scoffed.

"I thought the witch would have warned you about me." The old man's demeanor became more serious.

Dan felt a jolt of fear run down his spine. How does he know about the witch?

"Oh I bet she did." The man started to laugh. "But all the attention online and the sex and the porn, oh the porn was so good." The man grunted as he rubbed his crotch. "You just couldn't resist being popular!"

Dan only grew more afraid as the man monologued.

"I am going to enjoy this." The old smiled as he got up from the chair.

"Enjoy what?" Dan questioned as he tried to back away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he back away. The old man grew closer and closer, but no matter how much Dan wanted to run, he remained frozen in place. The man placed his finger on Dan's forehead, causing a blue light to escape from his body and enter the man's body.

Dan watched helplessly as the man's arms grew to the size of melons, his biceps bursting through his sleeves. Meanwhile, all Dan could feel was his sleeves becoming looser as his arms deflated. The man's moobs shrunk into a solid pair of pecs as Dan looked down to see his chest swell until he was left with two soft man tits. The man's ball gut got smaller and smaller as fat piled into Dan's stomach, leaving him with a heavy gut that spilled under his shirt. The man's pants grew tighter and tighter as thick muscles filled his thighs and juicy fat perked up his ass. Dan felt weak as his legs became more fat than muscle, he even felt the bulge in his pants shrink as he watched a thick bulge appear in the man's pants.

As if that wasn't enough, Dan watched on in horror as the man's face ages down from 60 down to 30. His wrinkles melted away as Dans became dry and wrinkly, his face thinned out as Dan's became rounder and chubbier, and his hair gained a light brown colour as Dan's thinned out and became white. The man pulled off his shirt to reveal a forest of dark hairs sprouting all over his body as a bushy bread covered his face. Meanwhile Dan can feel his face go cold from the much thinner facial hair.

As the transformation came to an end, the man flexed as he felt the energy course through him.

Dan once again let out a gasp as he regained control of his body, though this time his voice was much deeper and gruffer. Dan panicked as he ran his hands through all of the new rolls of fat on his body. He even stumbled back as he adjusted to the weight of his gut.

"What did you do to me!?" Dan yelled.

"Oh you did this to yourself buddy, y'know how easy it was to find you." The man responded, sounding almost exactly like you used to.

"You made me fat." Dan's voice breaks.

"Oh I did so much more than that, check the camera in your phone old man." The man smiled, as if he was containing his excitement.

Dan dreadfully pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.

Dan shed a tear as he saw the fat old man staring back at him through his phone's camera. His gut was bursting out of his jacket and his hair was nearly as thin as it was before his initial transformation.

"And if you don't mind I'll be taking that." The man grabbed the letter jacket off of Dan and put it on himself.

The man confidently strutted towards the stage, ready to give his speech as Prom King, but Dan wasn't ready to give up that easily. His footsteps were heavy as he followed the man onstage and grabbed his arm.

"You're not gonna take this away from me!" Dan yelled.

This was followed by a moment of silence as the crowd went awkwardly quiet. Everyone's eyes were once again on Dan, but it didn't feel like before.

"Ooohhh, that was embarrassing old man." The old man whispered to Dan before approaching the mic. "I'm sorry everybody, my dad is just a bit jealous that I'm in my glory days and he's not." The man says to the entire venue, then turns to you once again. "Isn't that right, dad? " He said as he pressed his finger into Dan's chest.

Dan froze once again. This time, memories flooded into his brain. Memories of him growing old, never reaching the happiness and popularity he had in high school. He even had a son, and named him Dan jr. after himself of course. Though his son would grow to top him in all of his achievements, including becoming prom King back when he was in high school. Dan Sr. finally decided to swallow his pride and let his son have the spotlight. He slowly waddled off to the side and watched as his son gave his speech as Prom King.

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - Nine Tails

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>9<

~ TAIL NR 5 - High school student

Almost a hair ... she might not come back. Was too careless to get things done as quickly as possible. Needed to slow down a bit, to discern more. Rush is a bad adviser, after all. Instinctively, she smashed another ball delivered by Inari's foxes.

The first thing she felt as soon as a Carrier, or rather a Woman-Bearer (judging by the decor of the room), opened her eyes, it was excruciating nausea. She sprang out of bed, racing forward, struggling to open sleepy eyes. Tossed her body forward, falling to her knees. Smelled a slightly watered-down, chemical, lavender-like aroma as she was drowned out by the powerful wave of digestive food smell, coupled with the sound of her stomach returning. Hanabi had no idea how long it took, but unfortunately it wasn't a single spasm. She ended when the weighted stomach ached mercilessly, probably partly from hunger. Pregnancy? Was she going to guide a pregnant woman? The Astral Kitsune shuddered. The Wearer sat up shakily on shaky legs, rested her hands on the sink, then looked into the mirror. A young girl, a teenager, so tired, exhausted and disheveled, as if she came back from a hard party. Her dark blue eyes and slightly sunken cheeks was obscured by pale hair. "UNDERAGE - PREGNANT?!" Hanabi howled in her mind in horror, watching as she put toothpaste on her shaky hands and brushed slowly.

"Well then death ... goodbye Kaoru ..." Lady Hanayama mused tearfully. "I can't win that. I didn't deal with my own pregnancy, let alone someone else's!". It was probably the first time in her life that she had felt defeat and regret on such a scale. But she shook herself, stating that she had promised her husband to come back, so she HAS TO PERSEVER! Meanwhile, the Bearer has arrived at her school. The building looked very old, built of red brick, wrapped in thick ivy, more like a movie scene than an educational facility. The girl swallowed nervously, feeling sick again. Before she crossed the threshold, however, two others barred her way.

- Hi, Susan, how are you? - one of them, tall, redhead, said bluntly. - Did you do your homework?

- I... I... t... yes... please... - muttered the Carrier, taking a shiny hardcover notebook out of her bag with trembling hands. - I almost didn't sleep to make it on time...

- Oh there, you know how they say. "You will sleep after death"! - the student laughed ironically, and the other one echoed her. - And what, was it to stand up? Come on! May I get a good grade, because my mother will throw me out of the house!

Susan shivered, and Hanabi felt their shared abdomen clench with nerves. So it is not pregnancy, but ... school? The redhead was already bending down to mark her "position in the herd", Hana knew such licks well. Fortunately, the bell rang and the Bearer rushed to sit safely on the school bench. Mindful of the previous approaches, Mrs. Hanayama decided to take a moment to observe the situation. It was difficult for her, mainly because the torturers didn't play half-measures. As long as Susan politely accepted the notebooks and the work to be done, they behaved relatively flawlessly, but the moment she truthfully said felt worse, was tired, had other plans... things started to go wrong. Hanabi suffered from the inside, seeing the petite blonde being harassed by, what turned out to be, tall volleyball players. They locked her in the toilet knowing that she was afraid of such places. During PE lessons, they destroyed her sports outfit, so that, during the exercises, the ineptly tied shorts fell to the very ankles, making Susan, terrified, ran out crying. Of course, the teacher who saw it reacted, if it could be called that - he scolded the laughing group of girls and put appropriate comments in the documents. The consequences ended there. The measure changed when Susan was badly beaten for a minor mistake in the next essay. She didn't defend herself, as if knowing that for any act of resistance she would get hit harder. Hanabi decided to take the risk. When the blonde stood in front of the mirror to wipe the blood from her face, she showed up next to her reflection. The blonde panicked, but she didn't have the strength to scream.

- You're not alone, Susan. No more indulgence. - She murmured, hoping that no one would hear them. - Although I am only with you for a moment, there are people around you who will certainly help if they are aware of the problem.

- Holy Miss ... are you my Guardian Angel? - the scared high school girl whispered.

Hanabi was stunned, but quickly remembered that she had once read about the Christian concept of a guardian spirit, which was probably so called, so she nodded, considering it to be the least harmful, and the closest to the truth.

- But ... but ... the Lord wants us to help each other. - she continued, wrapping her hair around her finger. - I can't say no, it would be a sin.

- Cheater, cheater, Derek eater, had a dada, something, something! You can and you should! - Hana muttered, rolling her eyes. - You don't help at all by doing her job, you hurt both her and yourself. She'll just slip through the school, she won't have anything on her mind. You, in turn, will burn out before becoming an adult. Don't let it happen!

- There is nothing I can do ... - The blonde replied tearfully.

- You've got a bigger hook on her than you think. She has nothing on you. - The black-haired girl suggested the idea. - And I will show you how to use this knowledge.

She decided to act immediately, despite the protests of the Bearer. She didn't know if she would be bailed out by Master Inari for it, but she respected it. Dragged Suzan to the school nurse as she stood. The woman in the white smock almost fell off her chair, seeing a bruised, still bleeding girl with a torn uniform. The blonde hit crying, not knowing what to do with herself, overwhelmed by school, the behavior of her friends, and even more so by the recent events. The nurse immediately called the tutor and started dressing the wounds. Hanabi didn't expect such a response from the school officials. As a rule, problems were disposed of, as far as she knew, and here it had apparently been recognized, quite rightly, that the problem was too big to be underestimated. The next day, Suzan's parents were summoned, as well as the red-haired volleyball player who was hurling lightning at the blonde behind the backs of her mother and father, huffing under her breath that she would die if she got any consequences for it. Hanabi made sure that her Bearer did not give up. She could not. If it did, the circle would start all over again, only worse. The talks took place very unexpectedly, the redhead was suspended as a student, she was barred from leaving the house, and Susan - the care of a psychologist. But was that enough for them? Something Hanabi hadn't foreseen had happened. Just as she thought she would be back at Inari Palace in a moment, Susan woke up the next day and looked in the mirror.

- Thank you for your help. - she whispered, although she didn't see the White Fox next to her reflection. - But ... I wouldn't be myself if I left her like that. Sorry.

Mrs. Hanayama, touched by the thanks, decided to observe and, if necessary, move on with a more physical relief. The blonde, still bruised, with the wounds healing with patches, stood in front of the door of a large, apparently wealthy house, then pressed the bell button. A tall, red-haired volleyball player in a thin bathrobe, fluffy slippers on her feet and a disheveled haircut opened her.

- What do you want here, ungrateful informer?! - she growled under her breath. - You make me grounded, my parents withdrew my pocket money, even the ones I already got! They blocked the card, canceled all events, including my birthday, I can also forget about the promised Lamborghini for the next 10 years! I'm fucked at school, friends turned away from me and that's ALL YOUR FAULT!

- With all due respect, Margary, it's your fault. Only. - Susan replied, surprisingly firmly, clutching the briefcase to her chest. - It was only because of your weakness and reluctance to work that you decided to use someone who had something that you didn't have, but didn't also have the strength and shoes to stand up to you. You attacked the weaker one, and this is absolutely dishonorable and against our faith. You could do your homework on your own and leave me alone, but you decided to do otherwise. It is your choices that have led you to this place and the loss of your goods.

- You little ...

- It turned out, however, that I'm not as lonely as I thought. The moment you and your pseudo-friends beat me up, I realized that this is not the right way to go. - The blonde continued tirelessly. - Neither of us would have any positives about it, and knowing I wouldn't speak to you, I went for help. Now, with this help, I am coming to you.

The red-haired girl stopped in mid-step, staring in surprise at the tiny person standing in the doorway. Susan swallowed and lunged.

- If you lowered your self-esteem a bit to a healthy level and at the same time found this drop of courage to ask, I would help you so that you wouldn't lose anything. Unfortunately this didn't happen. So today I come to you with a proposal. I will help you with your studies.

- And what, you probably think that now you are some great and better what, that I will thank you on my knees or pay you?! - huffed a bit confused volleyball player. - How much do you want in return?!

- One sincere "sorry" and swear you will never treat anyone like that again. - Susan replied calmly. - That's a price enough for my help, Margary.

She woke up surprisingly calm, bewildered and... proud. Yes, she was proud. In truth, she herself didn't think about such a solution, Susan showed incredible wisdom and good-naturedness. She looked around her, looking for a tall figure with white hair. When she finally saw him, Lord Inari raised his thumb up at her.

[forhisglry]

My positive birth story

I write my own birth story on International Day of the Midwife, to highlight the incredible value of good midwifery support and continuity of care and how the environment that we birth in has a huge impact on our birth experience. And to reaffirm what all the research says, that birthing at home with midwifery care is safe and empowering and should be available as an option for more women. As a disclaimer, I know that birthing at home is not what all women want and may not be right for some women. I also know that many women come out of their birthing experience traumatised rather than empowered. My hope for the future of midwifery and birth is that every woman would have access to supportive woman-centred midwifery care to birth in an empowering way that is right for them in the space that is right for them- whether that is at home, in a birth centre or at the hospital. Own your birth, your body is powerful and so capable. It was created to do this.

For me, choosing a homebirth was essential. As a midwife, I know the benefits of uninterrupted labour, and wanted to be in a space where this was honoured and I could birth on my terms. I also knew the challenge I would have with switching my midwife brain off in labour and stepping into the primal brain required to labour well. Being at home meant I was away from my workplace and other people’s birth stories, and was safely in my own space to write my own story. Thankfully, Darwin has a publicly funded homebirth program that I fit the low-risk criteria for, so I was quick to book into this early in my pregnancy.

Choosing a homebirth was also a step of faith for me. For a long time, I’ve had a fear that I’d never be able to birth my babies vaginally. A midwife once said to me when I was 19 that my ‘pelvis was too small to birth’, and it’s haunted me ever since. (A reminder that the words you speak over people, even off-hand comments, have power). Birthing Reuben at home, all 4230 grams of him, was a real step of faith in trusting God over my fears. And in that, He reminded me in a very real way that through him all things are possible, and that not only can I birth my babies, I can birth chunky big ones. It broke my fears of untruths spoken to me long ago. I write this birth story to give God the glory.

During my pregnancy, my husband Jonno and I spent 3 months on the road travelling. It was an amazing bonding time together and we grew a lot in our relationship. While on the road, I saw a midwife in Yackandandah, Victoria, several times over the course of our travels. In our short time together, her midwifery approach and philosophy resonated deeply with me, and I felt valued and listened to. I loved getting some continuity of care even as we travelled.

We arrived back in Darwin at 35 weeks pregnant. In the weeks leading up to birth, Jonno and I did a hypnobirthing course and I read through Rhea Dempsey’s books ‘Birth with confidence’ and ‘Beyond the birth plan.’ These both really helped in my mental and emotional preparation for birth. I spent time every day working through thoughts and fears of birth, and taking my birth to God in prayer and letting go of control. The wait is hard and takes a surrendering of your own will. It’s a strange time of anticipation and stillness. I loved and hated it. I desperately wanted my baby to come, but valued those precious moments with just me and Jonno. Five days after my due date, I started to have some mild crampy niggles but nothing particularly painful or regular at all. It was a Sunday, and Jonno and I spent the day together pottering around and went for a long beach walk in the evening, watching a beautiful sunset. That night I woke up at 4am with surges coming every 10 minutes, not too painful but enough to stop me from sleep. I got up so I didn’t wake up Jonno with my tossing and turning and sat on my exercise ball in the living room with a heat pack on my tummy.

He woke up to get ready for work a couple of hours later. With irregular contractions only once every 10 minutes, I told him to still go to work, thinking it might carry on like this for some time, and wanted to maximise the time that he’d have off work after the baby arrived. Before he left for work I got him to put the TENS machine on my back. It was absolute magic. I kept it on all day.

As the morning progressed, the surges began to get a little closer together but were still irregular and I was coping fine. I spent the day trying to distract myself. I played some cards, danced around the living room, rested a little and practiced some good positioning.

By 3 in the afternoon I was struggling to motivate myself and stay distracted. Jonno had been calling me up every couple of hours from work to check on me, but my surges were still only every 5 minutes or so and pretty manageable so I didn’t think he needed to come home early, but I was keen on some company and motivation. At this point I called Jenelle, an amazing midwife and friend who has previously been a part of the homebirth team, and had agreed to be a part of my birth support team. She was just what I needed in that moment. She entered my birth space and helped me to draw in my focus, where I was having a ‘crisis of confidence’ moment. I broke out in tears when she got there, and told her I didn’t think I could do it. She looked me straight in the eye and said ‘well, you don’t like the alternative do you!’, which really helped to kick my head into gear.

Up until this point I had been experiencing all of my surge pain in my pubic bone, so Jenelle felt my baby’s position and we realised he was posterior with a deflexed head. We got hard to work right away with various positions and massage to try and realign bub and release tension from my pelvis. As we moved around, we chatted about all things from magic mushrooms and the golden valley tree park in Balingup, to candles, to my mum and my relationship with Jonno. It was excellent distraction and really helped me to relax. At one point I felt an unusual popping sensation, like my baby just swung into place, and then things were on pretty big from there. This happened right before jonno got home at 5.30pm, and then it was suddenly all systems go.

My lovely housemates set up my birthing space with the birth pool in the living room, while Jonno supported me for a while in the shower, and at some point my support team called my homebirth midwife to attend. The intensity of labour ramped up and there were so many moments where it felt unbearable. Labour truly does take you to the end of yourself, and it was my incredible support circle that really kept me grounded throughout the whole journey. I never once felt like they didn’t think I could do it and never once felt afraid. When I looked around the room I felt believed in and surrounded by love. One of the affirmations I had written on the wall was the Bible verse ‘There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear’, and it was so true in that space. I really felt carried by God throughout the whole journey. What surprised me was how much I needed interaction in labour. In most situations in life when I’m struggling, I tend to internalise and go quiet, but I found that in labour, talking to my team and giving myself little pep talks really helped me to keep going. It never felt like there were surplus people in the room, every person in my circle had an important role. Poor Jonno was well outnumbered by midwives! Besides Jenelle, my housemate Jos was there as another support person, and I had the 2 wonderful homebirth midwives.

Some time after 8pm, I felt like I had exhausted all other coping options, and that I wouldn’t be able to do this much longer. I got into the birth pool and it felt like the most blissful thing in the world. I floated around the water like a mermaid, my body giving me some much needed longer breaks between surges and I rode the endorphins through each rest. As the surges continued, I instinctively moved my body around the pool to make space for my baby. It felt so good to move in a weightless and unrestricted way.

Some time after 9 o’clock, I started feeling that involuntary urge to push and after fighting it for a while, Jenelle reminded me to go into it, not to resist it. So I went with the feeling and it felt good to do something, but I didn’t feel like I was really getting anywhere fast. My midwife suggested that I spend some time sitting on the toilet- aka dilation station. I did this and really felt his head move lower. I got back in the water around 11pm and jonno got in the water behind me, which really grounded me as I continued to push. My support team held up a mirror through my surges, and seeing his head slowly emerge really spurred me on to keep going. His head birthed slowly and smoothly, giving my body a chance to stretch and move as it needed to. He was calm the whole way through and his heart rate was steady. I birthed my baby in the water at 3 past midnight to the sweet joyful sounds of Celtic music (that we had playing in the background throughout labour). His head was born on the 17th and his body on the 18th! It was the most surreal moment. My boy was quiet and calm and he stared at me and Jonno as we sat in the pool. After birth we got out of the pool and waited for the placenta to come naturally, leaving my boy attached to his umbilical cord until well after the placenta had birthed. We had a few hours together at home, breastfed and introduced our dog Tobin to his baby brother, then I had to get transferred to hospital for repair of a tear from birth. We weren’t in hospital long, and came back home and settled in later that morning, riding high on the blissful oxytocin. What a wild and beautiful ride.

Birth looks different for everyone. And what is right for me is not necessarily right for other women. We can’t control a lot of the circumstances we get dealt around our birth. But there are ways we can be empowered and set ourselves up for success no matter what kind of birth we have. My birth of Reuben wasn’t textbook. But what an incredibly empowering and exhilarating experience and witness to God who makes all things possible. I wouldn’t change a thing.

As with most labours, it was intense and filled with moments where I lost confidence or couldn’t bear it any longer, but I was surrounded by 4 incredible midwives and my husband who had complete confidence in me and the capacity of my body to birth this baby. And that helped me carry on. They gave me space and time for my body to move and open in the way it needed to to let my baby through and they trusted that process, not trying to control it. I was at home, where I was safe, where I did not feel observed or put on a time-line or made to conform with the way we’re taught labour is meant to go. My contractions were not a regular pattern- they blended from long to short and spaced out to allow my son to move the way he needed to move. I was not ‘assessed’ on progress, and slowly pushed his whopper head and body out gently and slowly in the way it needed to be; I was not rushed. There were minutes between his head and body, but he was calm and his heartbeat was normal, because the process was undisturbed. He needed time for his big body to navigate through. I was listened to and felt safe to speak out my fears of birth, knowing that my support circle had my back to speak truth and courage and power back over me again. It wasn’t perfect, I felt my tailbone pop during labour, which is still giving me some grief when I sit, and I had a decent tear, but it was my body powerfully shifting and making space in the way it needed to for my baby to be born. It wasn’t perfect, but I loved it. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. What I am so thankful for, is that knowing what I know as a midwife, my labour and birth in another setting could have had a very different outcome. If I had been assessed on progress and been monitored as to the expected pathway of labour, I would have likely ended up with an oxytocin infusion, probably a forceps delivery with a shoulder dystocia and an episiotomy, all of which would have been deemed necessary, but weren’t really. But instead, I was privileged to be in a space where I was trusted and supported, where I could move how I needed to move, where my body was afforded the opportunity to birth in its own way: a privilege I wish more women had. It’s not to say that those interventions aren’t necessary in some cases, but how many more women would birth their babies without them if we watched and waited more and held space for women.

I’ve been a midwife for years but experiencing birth for myself has given me a whole new appreciation for the incredible role, support and wisdom of midwifery care and gently and confidently holding the space for birth.

I’m so grateful for Gods hand in my birth. I’ve learnt more of what it is to trust his perfect design and wait patiently on him. He is good.

[catchingbigfish]

find the word tag!

thank you, @dotr-rose-love! my words are fly, suggest, perfect, and book! i'm tagging @words-after-midnight, @thecatsgrave, @charlesjosephwrites, and @ls-daydreams! (as always, no pressure, and anyone who would prefer not to be tagged can always let me know if i mess up!) your words are dare, rule, crisis, star, and surround!

i'm pulling from so it goes again! quick reminder the story deals very explicitly with death, pregnancy, and birth; the snippets today very explicitly reference death (book) and there's a mention a pregnant body (perfect).

fly

“Did you ever have to read Camus in school?” she asked. “What? No. Absolutely not.” “Your loss,” she said, sticking the tip of her tongue out, lost in thought. “Do you know anything about him?” Isaiah shook his head. “When do you think I snuck off to read Camus?” “He said Sisyphus was happy,” she said. “Or we must think Sisyphus is happy.” She looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember. “We must imagine Sisyphus is happy because he has a purpose.” Isaiah looked dismayed. “I think I’m good,” he said slowly. He wandered around the stack he was at to join her. She squatted on her heels and looked up at him. “How about Madame Butterfly? Weren’t you in theatre?”

suggest

Instead of jumping straight into speaking, Marisa blew out air and put her finger to her lip. Finally, she said, “That’s the problem. I don’t know.” Ali continued staring at her, still chewing. “It’s a really good offer,” she relented. “Good pay, good benefits. It seems empty. It feels, like, I don’t know. Like I’ll move out there and wither away in the suburbs, creating some bullshit, hollow life based on what my coworkers suggest I do, and wind up unhappy.” She took a page out of Ali’s book and began creating a huge bite of food, hoping Ali would feel pressured to fill the silence. She wasn’t. She had finished chewing, but she kept her gaze steady on Marisa’s face. She continued to wait, and when it became obvious Marisa wasn’t going to open her mouth, she sighed.

perfect

“I want a healthy baby,” the woman told Marisa at their first appointment. She had invited Marisa to her apartment, a nice loft in the city’s center, but quite loud for an infant. There were soundproofing decorations already dotting the baby’s nursery, which was done up like it was in the sky: the decor on the walls mostly looked like clouds, which was probably the best soundproofing decor Marisa had encountered. The floor was covered in a plush blue rug, ceiling and walls painted the same shade. They sat in the nursery while discussing the woman’s plans. The one window in the room cast beautiful, golden sunlight on the wall across from it. It was east-facing, which meant a gentle and natural wake-up. The woman was dressed in yoga clothes with a perfect, protruding pregnant belly already resting on her lap and her washed out blonde hair in a top knot. Sitting on the exercise ball across from Marisa, she looked like a mom already even though this was to be her first.

book

“I’ve met you so many times,” Death said. “I’ve been there for you so often. Haven’t you begged me to come?” She walked to the window and put her bony hand on the windowsill, turned at a an angle, looking out into the dark. “I was only coming to give you what you’ve been asking for.” Marisa felt her legs begin to twitch, not moving enough, but she urged her body to wake up, to flee. Death turned to the empty desk and began rifling through it, hands landing on a notebook, a piece of paper, and a pen. She turned and walked back to Marisa. She laid the paper on the book, and the book on the bed in front of Marisa. Death walked back to the window, sitting on the windowsill, bony leg crossed over fleshy leg. Marisa looked down and saw the pen in her hand.

[jadipose]

Taylor helps Porrim get stable on the floor, leaning the huge lady against her, as best she can. "...Okay, height difference is maybe a bigger problem than the weight. Angled good for a hit off your bong?"

Mm... mhm....

Porrim just nods her head, squeezing her eyes shut again as her belly rumbles dangerously. She's the size of a heavily pregnant woman, her stomach pushing out into Tay like a hard, round exercise ball, forcing her thighs apart. She has to balance herself carefully on her butt and on the bottom bulge of her gut, keeping the hose pushed within her to pump more and more water into her swelling, gurgling middle.

Just p-p-put it o+n my belly.... between my buh-bo+o+bs....

[privateultrasoundscancambridge]

Get to know how you can use the birthing ball in your labor positions. And for expert advice visit the Private 4D ultrasound Scan Clinic of Cambridge.

[moms-r-us]

Mommy episodes part 14.

I took my baby for his 14th week check up at the doctor today and had a chat with two pregnant ladies who had a few questions and were curious about how it is being a mom and most importantly, how it was giving birth.

I remember my exact words to one lady were “do you want me to lie to you or to be brutally honest” , and she asked me to be honest. Mind you, the lady was 37 weeks, and I gave birth at 37 weeks. I then told her that I won’t really explain everything in detail as I did not want to worry her (so yes, I wasn’t really brutally honest😂I couldn’t do that to her!) what I did point out was that, she has to brace herself. I can’t speak about C-sections as I did not have one myself, but I spoke about my experience giving birth naturally.

Here are a few points I highlighted out for her:

•Push only when you are having contractions

• Take walks or use an exercise ball throughout to help with contractions.

• Remember that the pain won’t last forever and that you’ll be meeting your baby very soon!

•Stay positive at all times!

• Stay hydrated.

•Remember to rest as much as you can after giving birth

• The pain literally disappears immediately after you push your baby out.

Giving birth is one of the most beautiful things about the power of being a woman. Our bodies are a home to the little ones until it is their time to see the real world, and our bodies are able to survive the pain of bringing them into this world. I don’t think I appreciated life , being a woman and most importantly, God , up until I gave birth. I got to see the power of the lord, I got to see how great his mercy has been towards me, I got to see his love.

[fantasyideas1]

A girl tells a guy: why is it written pub over your penis Always dreamed of being the icing on the cake, put another actor on, hey hey, I thought I was the icing on the cake said the guy in the cherry suit and angel wings, he was denied he runs and cries on the freeway everyone crashes cars looking at the guy in the cherry suit, friend he asks what you put on yourself, he said that it suits me, who said, languidly neighing janitor, I don’t understand the style of clothes We are already changing the fifth apartment, trollers are poltergeists Honey, we have been figuring out who is right for the fifth hour, maybe it's enough to find out who farted first and have sex You were robbed, all your money and sperm were taken from you, and these were girls, the laughing policeman laughs and says I want to take a picture with him, and why they took the sperm, no one wanted to marry one fat woman You seem to work in a women's team, so why don't you meet them? The man in the trauma center is crippled, the doctor says it means she has not had sex for a long time, this is an overabundance of her passion She demands too much sex, my balls turned into guacamole, which is basically like wasabi and pistachio ice cream, she has an insatiable taco written over her vagina, like a ride warning about throwing up and dizziness about if you constantly ride No matter how much he pays, I will pay less. You're so empty that the gym uses you as a hula hoop. Hawaiian Limbo inflation, pubic hair tug-of-war, but participants can't talk because it won't be funny, pinching a local man's coconut (penis) between boobs, but can't tell her husband because it won't be funny, aqua aerobics all the girls doing exercises in in the pool they secretly slept with a muscular tanned instructor, everyone has AIDS and all pregnant women, other venereal diseases in the pool, but you can’t talk to them because it won’t be funny, throw the ring (vagina) on a coconut stick (instructor’s penis), husbands can’t say it not funny, surfers on the wave see dolphins and sharks swimming with them, pretending to be dolphins, but you can’t talk to surfers’ husbands because the local guys won’t fall, it won’t be funny, hard Via gra in all cocktails, what’s the difference we are in Hawaii, a huge orgy about which they will tell in the news, at night drunk go swimming sharks should have three meals a day, during the day children do not swim be selfish, karaoke in a bar when everyone is drunk everyone is talented, a soundtrack is better, an orgy is shown through a helicopter, thirty minutes of video, that's how long an orgy, they don't distinguish who is what gender, they don't give a damn, they're all drunk, honey, I'm drunk, I don't understand what your mouth has been busy all day, why does your throat hurt, why is it so wide, you have a sore throat, you drank a lot of whipped cream, it is so cold, why can't you sit, these chairs are so hard, the wife says and so hard

Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

[divawomenshospital]

Nutrition During Pregnancy: 10 Do’s and Don’ts

Taking care of nutrition during pregnancy is a whole different ball game, as it requires a lot of concentration and research. During this phase, a woman is not eating for one but for two, and what she eats has a direct impact on the health and wellbeing of her child and on her as well. This is why proper research, information, and guidance are essential to ensuring you get enough protein in your daily meals during pregnancy. Also, there are various restrictions in the phase of pregnancy that must be considered by a pregnant woman. If you are looking for pre-pregnancy counseling, pregnancy care, infertility counseling and management, laparoscopic surgery, IVF treatment, gynecology, PCOS management, fibroids surgery, and total laparoscopic hysterectomy (TLH) or abdominal/vaginal hysterectomy, then get in touch with Diva Women’s Hospital.

Dos and Don’ts During Pregnancy

Dos

1: Do eat rainbow of food

When you are pregnant, it is very important for you to have a balanced diet in order to remain healthy and fit during the pregnancy period. You must look at your plate daily and ask yourself whether you are getting enough protein or not. Ask yourself: Am I eating a rainbow of foods? Our Indian diet is limited to white and brown foods, i.e., rice, dal, and roti, which is not enough at all. Eat plenty of green vegetables and fruits such as bananas, apples, broccoli, tomatoes, cabbage and so on.

2: Incorporate five essential nutrients: Iron, Folate, Calcium, Vitamin D and Zinc

There are some essential nutrients that you must add to your daily diet, which are zinc, vitamin E, calcium, iron, and folate during pregnancy. You must consume at least 400 micrograms of folic acid per day and 27 milligrammes of iron per day. Also, the best gynecologists in Ahmedabad suggest having at least 1000 milligrammes of calcium a day and approximately 15 milligrammes of zinc a day during pregnancy. After following all the diet and healthy routines, if you feel uncomfortable or weak, you must see your OB/GYN as soon as possible. 

3: Do eat a lot of Fiber-rich foods.

Fiber is very beneficial for pregnant women as it helps maintain proper digestion and good health. This also helps pregnant women with some serious dizziness, such as constipation and bloating, that can make you uncomfortable for a long period of time. Pregnant women must also aim for at least 25 to 40 milligrammes of fiber per day.

4: Do drink plenty of fluids.

Dehydration can be dangerous for a pregnant woman and can cause long term sickness and dizziness during pregnancy. Therefore, having plenty of fluids such as; water, juices, and coconut water can be helpful during pregnancy as it helps in promoting higher blood volume, fetal circulation, and the development of amniotic fluid. The pregnant women must drink at least 8 to 10 glasses of water a day.

5: Do get your Omega 3s

Omega 3 fatty acids are an important nutrient for pregnant women and for their babies as they help in boosting the baby’s brain development and neurological functions before birth as well as contributing to better vision for the baby. Overall, this works as a mood booster for both the mother and child, along with reducing the risk of postpartum depression. Looking for a consultation with the best and most experienced gynecologist in Ahmedabad? Connect with Diva Women’s Hospital today.

Don’ts

1: Don’t go overboard with eating for two

There is a myth that pregnant women must eat for two. Yes, you have a growing baby inside your womb, but that doesn’t mean you need to eat for two and double your diet. You just need to change your eating routine and add a lot of nutrients and vitamins to your daily meal. You can also consult your OB/gyn about a balanced diet and exercise programme that you need to follow for an easy pregnancy and delivery.

2: Don’t overlook for safe food handling

You need to maintain proper hygiene while cooking food, and you also need to be extra careful while eating your food and getting nutrition. Also, wash and clean all utensils before using them, and cook food well so that bacteria can be killed. You must also read blogs and books, as this will help keep your mood and mind fresh during pregnancy.

3: Don’t leave long gaps between meal

As we have already mentioned in the above section, having enough protein and nutrients is required, so you must not skip meals or leave a long gap between meals. Taking nutrients and proteins on a regular basis helps keep your blood sugar level steady, preventing you from crashing or becoming sick.

4: Don’t eat junk food to curb cravings

During pregnancy, women experience cravings for different kinds of foods and drinks, which indicates that they are deficient in those particular nutrients. But you must not indulge in junk food to curb cravings, as it can be harmful for you and your baby. Looking for the best maternity hospital in Ahmedabad? Then get in touch with Diva Women’s Hospital today. We have designed our service to ensure you have peace of mind during pregnancy, from start to finish.

5: Don’t drink alcohol at all

It is almost universally known that drinking and smoking are dangerous for your health, especially for pregnant women and couples who are trying to conceive. Therefore; avoid or limit alcohol when you want to conceive, and avoid it totally when you are pregnant.

Visit Diva Hospital to learn more about precautions to take during pregnancy as we take care of all your nutrition needs during treatment.

[sabinaakther90]

First and foremost, why are you attempting to start labor? I only ask because I am aware that the majority of women, including myself, become really uneasy at the end and determine that starting labor at home is the best course of action. I do wish I hadn't, though. The better off your unborn child will be, the longer it stays in the womb. I tried everything, even fresh pineapple and castor oil. including bouncing on a fitness ball and daily walks of more than five kilometers. Nothing genuinely appeared to work. I was, at best, left in agonizing agony and even wearier and weary. However, I can confirm that some of my friends have said that those stories did the trick for them. It so occurred that my baby was obstructed and facing the wrong way. I had already been in labor for four days without experiencing cervical dilatation by the time it was time for me to deliver her. Each pregnancy is unique. Ask your doctor for the best course of action if you want to start labor by inducing it. Unless it is really essential, most doctors won't induce. Embrace your pregnancy. Although I am aware that is easier said than done, I wish I hadn't tried to rush things. One month in and I already miss being pregnant. Thank you and best of luck!

[weightloseuk]

8 Unique Diet Plans

Weight loss, in the context of medicine, health, or physical fitness, refers to a reduction of the total body mass, due to a mean loss of fluid, body fat or adipose tissue. This can occur due to voluntary causes like diets and exercise, or involuntary causes like undernourishment or illness.

The recommended way to lose weight is to make adjustments to your diet, while simultaneously following a work-out regime. If you do only one of them, it won't show much improvement, as eating right and exercising well go hand in hand.

Some people don't focus much on keeping a proper diet plan and think that only exercising will cause weight loss. But, a diet plan is as important as your work-out regime, as it controls your calorie intake according to the calories burnt, so you can achieve your weight goals faster.

Let's See More Tips

Your weight loss diet will depend on a number of factors, like your gender, age, work-out plan, your metabolism rate, and more. So, it is recommended that you consult a dietician or a nutritionist rather than relying on other sources, as it won't be effective, and sometimes may even be harmful.

Nevertheless, here are 5 unique diet plans followed by people that you can read about:

1. The Cotton Ball Diet

Yes, you read it right. People go to insane lengths when it comes to weight loss. The cotton ball diet is no less. A person on this diet would ingest cotton balls. Like for real! This strange diet involves soaking up to 4-5 cotton balls in juice before swallowing them in hopes to curb hunger.

Cotton balls may have zero calories and maybe bite-sized, but they have dangerous medical repercussions. To make things worse, this diet can deprive the person of nutrients. In such a state, the skin and hair suffer too.

2. The Cabbage Soup Diet

The cabbage soup diet may not sound as bizarre as the previous diet, but if you like variety, then this diet is definitely not for you.

On this 7-day meal plan, you are bound to lose weight as it is a low-calorie and low-fat diet. But keep in mind, it is low in nutrition too. Not only can it malnourished your body, but it's bland and this makes it harder to stay on this diet, leading to self-doubt and self-hate.

3. The Baby Food Diet

Come on, you aren't a baby anymore. An average woman must consume 1500 calories a day while an average man should consume 2000 calories a day, making this diet plan a bad idea as it not only brings down the normal intake requirements but also lacks in fibers needed for digestion. The baby food diet calls for little to no chewing at all, which can cause dental problems too.

4. Tongue Patch Diet

Don't even think about it! It's one of those scary procedures doctors conduct to make money and promote unhealthy methods of weight loss.

According to ABC news, a doctor in Venezuela has done 800 of these procedures which involves sewing a patch of plastic mesh onto their tongues. The patch makes it difficult to eat or swallow once attached.

The procedure comes with an 800 calorie diet for a day that includes only liquids until the patch comes off.

5. HCG Diet

The HCG Diet has been around for years. Its protocol is a 500 calorie per day diet combined with injections of a drug called Human Chorionic Gonadatropin. This injection is actually a fertility drug which is extracted from pregnant women's urine.

This diet has many supporters but like all crazy diet plans, this one too has side effects - fatigue, irritability, and depression. Not to mention, swelling of the breasts in men.

Let's See More Tips

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Tik Tok Leggings

Masterlist

Summary: Time to test these Tik tok leggings.

Warnings: swearing, Fluff, Cheeky Henry, Suggestive Themes, Plus sized reader

A/N: Just wanted to do something different thinking of maybe having a mini TikTok onshot series but unsure yet. Either way I hope you enjoy and happy Easter to those who celebrate  and those who don't? Have a brilliant Sunday xx

Taglist: will be in comment/reblogs

You eyed the package wearily... just how the fuck were you meant to pull this off? Slowly but surely the confidence  and 'fuck it' attitude was waning. They looked small.... very small.

You huffed a sigh looking at yourself in the mirror eyeing your form. You swear you'd gained some more weight, just a few pounds maybe? But you felt huge. Slowly you unravelled the leggings, it had been a good idea at the time but now you wasn't so sure. They were expensive and even thought you bought them as a little prank you did hope they would boost you confidence or at least be comfy enough to wear around the house.

Being a larger girl it was hard finding comfy clothes and you had to be comfy now that your boys were running around the house like headless chickens. You thought the terrible twos with trainers were bad? Your four year olds had scooters!

You grit your teeth and decided to try the leggings on gearing up for an all put war with the waist band but was pleasantly surprized. The fabric was firm and tummy controlling without feeling you feeling caught by a bloody boa constrictor! A comfy tight not spandex tight. You casually wondered about seeing if the company did bras, this shit would stop the girls from trying to knock you out on the stairs!

You pulled the material setting the... elasticated seam in your ass crack and winced... Okay that's a little strange... but not unpleasant and almost thong. You spun around eyeing yourself in to mirror. You didn't look to bad, if you said so yourself. Sure you wasn't magically strim and fit, you were blessed with a nice thick ass... but unfortunately had the thick hips and large thighs to go with it. You'd never be petite or dainty, but then again henry was huge behemoth of a man so you didn't need to be. As he said on many occasions he wanted a woman as thick as him... and you definitely fit that bill. His thighs were only slightly bigger then yours.

You turned around a few more times. Fuck okay hello there~ you grinned. You may not be the perfect sized woman but fuck if your ass wasn't glorious in these leggings~ this just might work.

You grinned and pulled on one of Henry's tshirts, the grey marines one it was snug and would ride up a little over your tummy showing off your bubble but that you felt was your best feature. And then padded downstairs, henry. Was in the large garden trying to teach the boys how to play rugby... Wanting to start them young.

You pottered about the kitchen chopping up the salad for tonight. Contrary to what people thought you were not large because you ate to much or did little exercise, you had always been bigger and admittedly since having the boys you had gained a little more weight but not ridiculously, you wasn't dangerously over weight.

You hummed looking out the patio door seeing henry jumping for joy as his boys and Kal played 'rugby' darting across the garden to the tiny rugby post at the end. Moving to Jersey to raise the kids was a brilliant idea, you had a huge country house with the land to go with it. Flat and immaculate that spread around the house in nearly four acres the lawn was mostly to the back and side and cornered off with tall hedge rows then beyond it a cornered off veggie plot and greenhouse and a work in progress chicken coop. Soon there will be a decent sized pond and some ducks... Henry didn't know yet, but if he was allowed to have a stables built four god knows how many horses you were allowed your ducks god dammit.

You grinned watching as henry ran around both the boys with his phone out cheering them on as they tor across the garden wrestling each other for the ball. You had panicked when you were told twin boys but you should have known henry would be able to handle it. It was perfect, days like this when he was home and strived to make his sons lives as magical and fun as he could, everyday was a holiday when dad was home.

You shook your head seeing the boys both lay on the floor in the shade completely tuckered out from the mornings fun. Henry can into the kitchen and you held your breath quickly bending over the counter a tad more then normal hoping to get a favourable reaction from your husband. But you couldn't help the tinge of doubt  what if he didn't like them? Or thought you looked bigger then you were?

"Hey sweetheart are the boys fruit shoots in the fri-oh sweet baby Jesus" he coughed cutting himself off  and took a half step back as he came in the kitchen. You giggled and turned to him then nodded your head to the fridge.

"Yeah their in there love" you said smirking and blushing as you saw him eyeing your ass tilting his head slowly down trying to get a better look at your ass making you bite your lip.

"Err yeah yeah... I... hold that thought" he said snapping out of it holding a finger up at you and looked to his phone.

"You just stay right were you are- no nope over bend over again babe... fuck me how did I get such a sexy little mama~" he growled one hand swiping over his screen. You flushed and wriggled our hips a little as you leant forward feeling on top of the world as he openly gawked at your ass. For a second you thought he was taking a photo and made to move wanting to snap up right but he napped his fingers to you pointing for you to get back down and brought the phone to his ear.

"Henry what are you?-" you tried standing once more but he crossed the kitchen pressing himself up against your ass and rocked slowly making you mewl as his bulge pressed against your ass half hard already. Henry huge hand pressed you down on the counter before him and winked then he spoke as who ever was on the phone answered.

"Hey mum, hi can you come get the boys?" He asked and you gasped at him shaking your head at him laughing. He wasn't palming the kids off to their grandparents because he wanted a midday fuck! Not that Marie-Ann would mind, she loved hosting the kids and frequently showed up out of the blue and took them out for the day. She was adamant that both you and henry still had alone time.

"No, no everything's all right I just- somethings come up~" he smirked and you laughed loud shaking your head at him, he was a little bugger! He wriggled his brows at you and nodded then flushed stuttering for a few comments.

"I.. No no of course not mum... muuuum stop- well yeah... yes I know you were young once-oh shit no I didn't mean of course your still young! Your in your prime! Okay yes, yes I promise to try my hardest... yes okay, see you in ten okay love you bye... bye mum I will. Yes I will mum bye" he muttered slowly moving through being embarrassed, shy and strangely confident before hanging up.

"Soo the boys are going out?" You giggled finding the way he reacted ridiculously cute. It wasn't what you expected, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass. But not him shipping the kids off for the day.

"And staying over night" Henry muttered moving both hands to your ass and squeezed and rolled the cheeks about making you squeak and try rising on your tip toes but he just growled following pressing a kiss to your neck.

"And what have we agreed to for this mighty generous gift? What have you promised?" You said arching back into him with a teasing tone knowing Marie would make henry pay for the 'young once' comment.

"Oh you know nothing too big just another grandchild, which wont be hard with these in your closet" he chuckled pinging the fabric that clung to your ass like a second skin. You flushed gasping out at him batting him away slowly. But it was a hard fought battle, Henry won easily sliding the cutting board back then let you spin to face him. He quickly hoisted you up onto the counter top behind you and kissed your lips moaning into you before pulling back and pointed at you.

"Right you stay- right here. Don't you move a muscle Mrs Cavill" he said seriously and backed away from you still pointing making you laugh and kick your feet biting your lip before nodding. Henry backed up to the back door and called out to the boys.

"Boys come on! Your going to grandmas for a sleep over! Go pack a bag, jammies, tooth brush and clothes for tomorrow! Come on mush hop it or cop it!" he called you smiled hearing two high pitch excited voices squealing at the thought of grandma. She spoilt them rotten. They dashed into the house quickly running past the both of you giggle as henry tried playfully nudging them on the bottoms with his foot when they ran through the kitchen to dart up the stairs and pack an overnight bag. Henry slunk out of the kitchen following the boys but kept glancing back at you.

"Remember right there babe, been too long since we fucked in here~" he growled making you flush remembering the last time you'd made love in here. It'd been when you were pregnant, the day you moved in before you redecorated you'd had Chinese take out and then made love in every room in the house.

"I'll be right here love I promise, now... You might want to sort yourself out before answering the door to your mother~" you teased pointing to the large lump in the front of his shorts making him grunt and cup himself trying to reposition himself and left the kitchen to help the boys pack.

You can safely say, these leggings were a success. You were definitely leaving a five star review... You did however regret not filming his reaction for tiktok. Honestly you didn't even have the app your sister in law had shown you and you thought it'd be something fun to try with Henry. You may just get more than you bargained for though, not that you minded... You just hoped you had a girl this time, it was about time to try and even things out a bit.

[rainbowsky]

I honestly don’t see how you look at web and all his hobbies etc and see a non straight man.

How to say this gently, Anon...

Hobbies do not determine sexual orientation, nor do they express it. In fact, hobbies rarely have anything whatsoever to do with sexual orientation. Maybe if your hobby is having sex... 🤔

Do you think all gay men are into ballet and baking? Do you think all straight men are into logging and duck hunting?

Sexual orientation is not about what we like to do in our spare time, it's about who we are in love with and who we like to fuck.

The fact that DD is into skateboarding has zero relevance to who he is attracted to. Zero.

And that should be abundantly obvious. Learning to change the oil in your car or training in judo doesn't make you a lesbian. Being a straight woman doesn't automatically make you want to spend your life barefoot and pregnant.

What you are talking about is not sexual orientation, but rather traditional gender roles.

Look at the women around you and what they're into. Do you think that female mechanics, surgeons or firefighters must be gay as well? Of course not. We all (rightfully) champion women who break gender stereotypes and go into fields they love rather than traditionally 'feminine' fields. Only the most hateful people would ever call those women 'gay' for doing what they love to do.

Who people love has nothing to do with what kind of activities they enjoy.

Stereotypes are not just inaccurate, they're harmful

You might not be aware of it, Anon, but your comment reflects an extremely harmful (and offensive), toxic stereotype - not just about gay men, but about masculinity in general.

Women often complain about 'toxic masculinity'; about men being too macho, pushy and aggressive, and unable to deal with emotions. All of that is due to stereotypes that men are trying to live up to.

When you say or even think, "Real men are into motorcycles," you are artificially limiting what men are allowed to be into and still be thought of as men.

That's how you end up with all these straight male parents who are shit fathers who can't even change a diaper and refuse to do any housework. Men who won't ask for directions and who refuse to try yoga or wear pink. If a man admitting that he loves doing laundry leads to people essentially cutting his balls off, there's no way you're going to get that guy to do laundry. If a man who is sensitive and kind is no longer seen as a man, he's going to be a dick so he can keep his dick.

Masculine stereotypes are a massive problem in the gay community. Gay men are constantly having their masculinity questioned/threatened, which has led to an obsession with having the perfect muscled body, has led to major ongoing self esteem issues in men, and has led to ostracization of effeminate men in the gay community. Effeminate gay men are often treated nearly as badly in the gay community as they are in the straight community.

That's a big part of why your assertion that DD must be straight because of his hobbies is so completely ridiculous. Gay men are very often as macho and manly as straight men, in part because we have something to compensate for. We have to push back against the emasculating attitude people have toward us as gay men.

This man is very gay:

This man is straight:

This football player is gay:

This figure skater is straight:

Anon, I know you probably don't mean to be offensive, but your attitude reflects a very poor understanding of sexual orientation - one that harms gay people. Gender roles and expectations have nothing to do with who we love or are attracted to. They are two completely separate things. Gay stereotypes are actually very homophobic and harmful.

Fear of having our gender identity erased if we're queer is often what leads people to stay in the closet, or to repress our sexual orientation completely. It leads some gay men to attack other gay men who have more effeminate or androgynous traits. It leads to widespread excessive dieting, anorexia, over-exercising and body image issues among gay men. It leads to self loathing, depression - even suicide.

So I hope that you'll do some reflecting on this, explore these issues more deeply and educate yourself. Not only so that you will stop thinking harmful things about gay people, but also so that you can liberate yourself from gender stereotypes and gender role expectations in your own life, and feel free to express yourself more broadly.

It's interesting, because this is one of the first questions I was asked when I started this blog over a year ago. I guess it's still an issue in the fandom...

EDIT: Please do not pile on Anon in the comments or via my inbox. Not everyone has equal access to reliable, accurate sex education. Let's try to be charitable and understanding.

[scuttling]

While I'm writing Dad!Bod Hotch with babies... 🥺

...Here's a very baby excerpt from one of my other works (modified a little so it can be read as reader.) It's pretty cute if I do say so myself! Tags: 18+, NSFW, Blow job + Pregnant sex The next child abduction case they get happens a year later, and it takes them to Seattle; rain beats down on the Sullivan house while she and JJ sit with the family and try to keep them informed of what’s going on in terms of the investigation. The mother stares out the window at the rain, and she brings over the cup of tea she’d offered to make, sets it down on the table beside her, takes her trembling hands.

“I promise you, Mrs. Sullivan, our team is doing absolutely everything they can to locate your son safely. They are the best in the world at what we do; we just need to let them do their jobs.”

Mrs. Sullivan frowns, takes a sobbing breath, and then wraps her arms around her; she’s a little startled by it, but rubs her back, trying to provide comfort.

After a couple minutes, Mrs. Sullivan pulls back, and she offers her a tissue.

“Do you have any children?” she asks, wiping her eyes.

“Yes. He’s seven years old, and his name is Jack.”

They find the boy five hours later. Alive.

She and Aaron have celebration sex on every available surface.

“Hey. So, I got three or four calls from my doctor’s office a couple weeks ago, but I was preoccupied with the Sullivan case and I kept forgetting to call her back,” she says later from Aaron’s lap. He sits up, holding her hips while he shifts his weight.

“Okay. Is everything alright? Why was she calling so often?”

“Apparently, my IUD expired a month ago. I have to get it taken out.” He looks cautiously over her face, like he’s not sure what reaction she wants from him. She’s fairly certain she knows what his first instinct is. “Well, Jack and I were at the grocery store when I spoke to her—and you know I’ve been feeling a little off…” She wets her lips, reaches over the arm of the couch and pulls a little cardboard box off the console table. She can see his breath hitch.

“Have you taken it?” She nods quickly, presses her lips together.

“Just waiting now.” Carefully, he reaches for the box, takes it out of her hand, and sets it back down on the table. He pulls her close for a tight hug.

“Whatever happens, I love you so much,” he murmurs in her ear, and they just hold each other until the timer on her phone goes off. She brushes her hand through his hair, and his eyes are wet; she knows hers are too.

She climbs out of his lap, and he follows her down the hall, clinging to her back like he can’t physically let her go. When they make it to the bathroom, she picks up the test, squeezes her eyes briefly shut, and holds it up so he can read the word on the screen.

The word.

She spins in his arms, wraps hers around him, and jumps up and down, the grin splitting her face nothing compared to the gorgeous smile that lights up his.

“I’m going to see if Dr. Rose can fit me in tomorrow,” she says, leaning up to smooch him several times in a row. “Just to be sure.”

“Let me know, I’ll come.” She nods, kisses him a few more times, takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I love you so much.” He holds her, repeats it, kisses her forehead, her eyes. Then he starts kissing her for real, reverent and steamy, and they walk gracelessly toward the bedroom, tugging articles of clothing off as they go.

She is kneeling over him on the bed, giving him a very good, messy, ‘Congrats, you’re probably going to be a daddy again!’ blow job when she pulls back suddenly, an overwhelming thought crossing her mind; she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“You know my brother has two sets of twins, right?” “A package came from your brother today,” Aaron says a couple months later as he’s leafing through the mail; he holds it out to her, and she opens it up, excited, then covers her mouth, can’t help but aww. “What is it?” he asks, not looking up from the stack of envelopes, and she puts her hand on his arm to get his attention.

“‘For the Hotchner siblings’—that’s what the card says,” she explains when he looks up, and then she holds up the largest t-shirt: it’s brown, with a cartoon bear cub, white letters spelling out Brother Bear. She holds up a smaller shirt: Sister Bear #1. Then another small shirt: Sister Bear #2. He smiles.

“Okay, that’s cute. We have to FaceTime him and thank him.”

“Definitely. He’s not going to believe how big this belly is,” she says, reaching up on her toes for a kiss; he comes at her from the side, because it’s easier to reach her lips that way. “Uh, Hotch, we need you down in the bullpen. She's crying and we can’t get her to stop,” Spencer says into the phone, looking a little freaked. Aaron must agree to come down, because he hangs up the receiver wordlessly; JJ rubs her shoulders, trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay, I completely understand. It’s normal to feel like that at this stage of the pregnancy,” she explains, and it’s all sounding very rational, but she just covers her eyes and keeps crying.

When Aaron crouches down beside her, he takes her hands carefully off of her face, wipes her tears with his sleeve, peers up at her with soft eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I want…” She gulps, sniffles, and Prentiss hands her a tissue over the desk partition. “Thank you. I want these babies out of me,” she sobs, and she knows she’s making a huge scene, but she doesn’t even care. “I want your babies out of me, Aaron!” He sighs; she knows he’s heard it all before.

“I know, honey, but you have to be patient. It will happen when it’s meant to.” She sobs, then hiccups, and that’s just great.

“But I’m—I’m drinking the stupid tea, I’m eating the dates. I got the, the acupuncture—do you know how weird it is to see those needles sticking out of your body? It’s unsettling!”

Morgan returns from Garcia’s office, takes one look at them, and abruptly pivots on his heel to head back.

“Oh sure,” she calls, and then hiccups, “everyone sees a crying pregnant woman and they just run away!”

“Noo, he just texted me!” Spencer lies, waving his phone that he never even looked at. “He said he forgot something and he’ll be right back.”

“Spencer, tell me what else can induce labor, please,” is all she says, doesn’t call him out because it’s sweet that he even tried. He counts off with his fingers as he recites the list.

“Raspberry leaf tea, dates, castor oil—” she grimaces, because that shit’s the worst “—acupressure, acupuncture, exercise.” He hesitates, looks a little uncomfortable, and she hiccups, gets pissed, takes a deep breath.

“Sweetie, honey,” she says, reaching out a hand for him, and he takes it, pats it awkwardly. Bless his heart. “You’re my partner, and I love you, but please spit it out.”

“Okay, uh. Nipple stimulation, and uh. Well. Sex.” Oh, yeah, the nipple thing they tried, but it felt like a restless cat trying to get comfortable on her chest, wasn’t sexy at all, so they didn’t try the rest. She snaps her fingers at Aaron like a douchebag asking for the waitress, wipes her face, hiccups again.

“Okay, we’re doing it, we’re doing that one. Sex me up.” Prentiss barks a laugh, and Spencer looks deeply disturbed. “Please can we go home now?”

“Uh, yes, we can,” Aaron begins, “but I’m not sure we should—” Nope, she’s not gonna listen to that bullshit. He hasn’t been pregnant for 42 fucking weeks.

“I love you, but shut up. Your dick put these things inside me, and your dick’s gonna get them out.” She moves to stand, and so does he, arms out like he’ll catch her if she starts to wobble. “I know I’m not sexy anymore with this gigantic stomach, but please please please just fuck me.” He closes his eyes, sighs like he regrets so much in life, and then gives her a hard kiss on the mouth. It makes her, like, instantly horny; she’d initiate sex right here if she thought she could get her pants off.

“You are as sexy as you’ve ever been,” he murmurs, hovering over her lips, “and I’m going to fuck you.” Sex this big sucks. Missionary is hilarious, doggy is uncomfortable, side by side seems okay but is actually kind of impractical. She feels betrayed.

Aaron helps her get on top of him—his dick is so hard it makes her feel really, really good about herself—and she’s more than okay with bouncing on him, but her belly bounces too, and it feels weird.

“Can you hold it?” she pants, and she takes the hair tie off her wrist and sweeps her hair into a ponytail because she’s sweating from all the position-shifting. “Just like, hold it.” She takes his hands and rests them on her enormous beach ball belly, sighs because it feels nice. “Good, yeah, thank you, let me try again.”

She braces herself against his thighs, rides him quickly, bucking hard—after about 15 years of wishing she had bigger breasts, she now despises hers, and therefore avoids them at costs, but she does manage to reach her clit, and she rubs it furiously as she moves atop him.

Aaron—who is so great, and sweet, who she loves so much—is all but useless, just holds her belly still and groans like he’s getting the best pussy of his lifetime, which she guesses maybe he is, because she wants these babies out and she’s well and truly desperate. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he grinds out, and his hands move to her thighs, squeezing hard, and she whines.

“No, no, do not come, don’t come.”

He comes.

An hour later, they try again, with her propped up on a pillow, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The internet said this would work, and if it doesn’t, she’s prepared to let BoyMom282 fucking have it.

“Oh my god, yes, yes,” she moans, clutching at the sheets above her head, and Aaron’s hands feel so good on what remains of her waist as he pounds into her. “Fuck, yes, fuck me until your babies are ready, Aaron. Such a fucking man, knocking me up with two babies at once—you can help me get them out, can’t you, daddy?”

He groans long and loud, and she puts a hand on his, squeezes hard.

“Don’t. Come. I swear to god if you come inside me right now, it will be the last time you ever do it.”

He comes, but luckily for him, she comes first. “So, tell us which is which,” Garcia leads, visibly excited, and she leans back against Aaron’s body, looks at the sweet baby girl in his arms.

“This one is Camila,” she says, touching her teeny tiny little foot, “and Spencer’s holding Mia. Mia Clarita Hotchner Cortes—Clarita after my mother—and Camila Marie Hotchner Cortes.”

“Marie after my mother,” Aaron explains, and he puts an arm around her, which she snuggles happily against. “We’re just waiting for Jack—he should be here any minute.” Spencer hands Mia back to her, and she kisses her forehead.

“This is the best day of your mama’s life,” she coos, touching her soft, dark, fuzzy baby hair. Her heart swells. “I was going to become daddy’s next unsub if you little cuties didn’t vacate my uterus in a timely fashion.”

She can hear the squeak of Jack's shoes coming through the door, and she looks up at Aaron with a grin. When Jack comes around the bed and sees the girls, his eyes get big. “Whoa, are these my sisters?” Haley pops in behind him, and she smiles at them.

“Yeah, buddy, come here,” she says, gesturing for him with her free arm. “This is Mia, and this is Camila.”

“Gentle like we practiced,” Aaron reminds him when he reaches out to touch Camila’s face, and she and Haley both roll their eyes, then laugh.

“He knows, sweetie.” She watches their interaction with so much love, then brushes her fingers over Jack’s hair. “You’re going to be the best brother bear ever, aren’t you?” He looks up at her, grins; he’s missing a tooth just to the left of the front ones, and she’s obsessed with that little gap.

“Yep, I’m going to read them stories and share my toys and play with them at the park.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” Aaron says, leaning down to look into his eyes. “And so are we, buddy.” “And do you, Aaron Hotchner—”

“Da-ah-addy!” someone sobs—Mia, she mouths to Aaron across from her—and she sees JJ step out from behind her, trying to soothe her so they can proceed, but she’s not having any luck. Mia is a daddy’s girl, and the fact that she can see him, but she’s not in his arms, is like a mortal sin to her.

She gets it, she really does. She felt that way every day for two years.

When it’s obvious she’s not calming down, the officiant clears her throat and tries again, but Mia’s wailing just gets louder. Aaron smiles, shrugs.

“Sorry. It’s okay—here, Mia, daddy’s right here,” he assures, reaching out to take her from JJ, and he wipes her eyes, her red nose, and bounces her on his hip for a moment until she settles. She shoots them what she’s sure is a sickeningly sweet glance and then turns around and asks for Camila; Emily hands her off with a big smile.

Aaron grins when she puts her on her hip, and he reaches behind him for his best man, Jack, encourages him to come forward so he’s standing between them. She smiles at him, touches his face, and nods at the officiant, who takes a deep breath and proceeds.

“Do you, Aaron Hotchner, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” They opted not to write their own vows, because their vows are living, breathing things between them, three perfect little heartbeats. Anything more felt unnecessary.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” He does, so well she thinks she might get pregnant again, and then they each kiss their three babies, and she silently marvels over the fact that all it took was being clobbered over the head with a fire extinguisher for her life to end up this perfect. “Did you know that your chance of having a second set of fraternal twins jumps to 12% after you’ve had the first?” Spencer asks as they’re gathered in the briefing room one morning. She and Aaron are standing up front, pressed close together, nodding patiently. “And considering they run in your family, and that your brother has two sets of fraternal twins, I’d say that statistically the odds are more likely doubled.”

She looks over at Aaron, whose eyes are filled with love and awe and also some pretty sexy other things, and then pulls the ultrasound image out from the little envelope, holds it out for the team to see.

In unison, they answer, “We know.”

They get a package in the mail later that week: One Jack-sized t-shirt—Brother Bear #1—and two tiny t-shirts—Sister Bear #3 and Brother Bear #2. She and Aaron stop by the hospital to visit a friend after surgery and she can't resist walking past the maternity ward. Something about seeing all of those brand new, healthy, happy babies rejuvenates her after a tough case, and the one they'd finished up earlier in the week had been one of the toughest.

A woman comes to stand beside her as she looks at the babies, wearing sweatpants and a hospital gown—she's maybe 30, so just a few years younger—and she smiles brightly at the woman. "New mom?"

"Yeah, she's the one right there," the woman says with a grin, pointing to a sweetly sleeping little girl. "Isn't she perfect?"

"They're all perfect," she sighs, "but she is very beautiful. Congratulations." The woman's smile turns warmer, softer.

"Thank you. Do you have any children?" She's so wrapped up in the dreamy haze of little babies wiggling their toes that she almost doesn't hear the question.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, five of them: Adrian, Isabella, Mia, Camila, and Jack." The woman's eyes go extremely wide, and she laughs, because she's so very used to that. Aaron steps up on her other side, wraps an arm around her waist.

"Thought I might find you here," he says, and he smiles politely at the woman, who's looking like she may never open her legs again. "Can't resist looking at the babies."

"I just love babies," she says sweetly, and she stretches up for a kiss. "Do you ever think we should have another, just to even it out?"

"Hmm. Yes, but knowing us, they'll be twins again, so it's probably best we stick with five." He bends for another kiss, and she pulls him close; when she remembers where they are, she pulls back, to shoot the new mom a sheepish smile, but she's already gone. She sighs.

"Fair enough. But do you want to go home and practice anyway?"

[jingabitch]

To Love an Empress

SUMMARY: Despite the acrimonious beginning to your relationship, Yoongi is drawn to you.

PAIRING: emperor!yoongi x empress!reader

RATING: E

WARNINGS: smut | unprotected sex (they’re husband and wife and also this is a historical au so there are no condoms but be safe okay) | references to war | yoongi’s scar is discussed | yoongi kills a man (mentioned but not explicit) | secret admirer stuff

WORD COUNT: 9.8k

A/N: My final submission for the BTS Ghostie bingo, yay! This one fills the secret admirer tile. This fic is kind of based on Henry VII and Elizabeth of York’s early relationship, and inspired by The White Princess, so if some of the dialogue and scenes are similar, that’s why. 

Shoutout to my lovely betas @knjkitten and @yoongs-jeontae for helping me beta this! Banner by @jkeuphoriadreamland​ 💕 i’ve never had a banner on a fic before this is fun hehe

Min Yoongi was a hard man, and he knew it. He’d won his throne on the battlefield, running his sword through the old king and crowning himself right there on the blood-stained grass.

You knew it too, could never forget it when you looked at your husband. The scar on his face from an injury he’d sustained during the decisive battle for his crown; the memory of how coldly he’d treated you at the beginning; the baby growing inside you as a result of Yoongi’s insistence that you demonstrate your ability to provide him with heirs before he would marry you. As if he’d had a choice, when your bloodline was the cornerstone of his legitimacy.

After all the angry words and hostility between the two of you, he knew there was no chance you would forgive him. And yet, a part of him craved it. He saw the kindness you lavished on your ladies-in-waiting, the servants, and all the children running around the palace who were sons and daughters of the nobles and the army of servants working here. Was it so wrong of him to want just a little of that for himself? You were his wife, after all.

Yoongi was a warrior. He’d trained all his life to take control of the kingdom. War was all he knew.

Which made him, unfortunately, woefully inept when it came to wooing a lady, especially one so resistant to him. He’d relied on his looks before, but now that he had the scar on his face, it seemed that even that tool was no longer at his disposal. God knows you hated it.

With no one else to turn to, he asked his eunuch what he should do. At first, the portly man just blinked at him, confused. “She’s your wife, you don’t have to persuade her to warm your bed,” he pointed out.

Yoongi grimaced. “I know that,” he grumbled. “I want her to like me.”

Sambo snorted. “Should have thought about that before you made her ‘prove her fertility’ to you.”

Sulking, Yoongi got up and stormed away from his eunuch. Obviously, he knew that, and he wished that no one else did. It wasn’t like him to force a lady like that, but tensions had been running high at the time and he hadn’t trusted a woman from the house of L/n. You must have run to your lady-in-waiting and cried to her when it was over, because Sambo had gotten quite the shelling from her the next day.

Sambo, who’d quickly grown used to the antics of his master, just hurried along beside Yoongi. “Just give her something pretty,” he advised. “Women like that.”

Yoongi stopped short. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “That’s a great idea,” he enthused. “You’re useful for once, Sambo,” he praised his eunuch.

Sambo rolled his eyes to hide his pleased smile. “You’d think a grown man would know something like that,” he jibed. “Taking love advice from someone who can’t even perform must be a new low for you.”

“Whatever.” Yoongi waved off the insult. “I’ll get her a nice hairpin,” he decided. “But don’t tell her it’s from me.” He didn’t want you throwing it out in disgust.

“She’s obviously going to know,” Sambo pointed out. “There is no man in Joseon suicidal enough to woo the empress. That’s treason.”

Frowning, Yoongi snapped, “Just do it,” before stalking back into his room with a huff and shutting the door in Sambo’s face. The eunuch really didn’t need to rain on his parade like that, even if he was probably right. Hopefully you wouldn’t immediately come to the conclusion that it was him. It wasn’t just that he was afraid you’d throw out a gift from him—he wanted to make you smile. Not because you were bound to him and might as well exhibit some fondness towards your husband, but because he was really, truly capable of making you happy.

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

Pregnancy had been difficult for you so far. Without your mother around, you were left to go through it by yourself. At least Ling, your personal servant-turned-lady-in-waiting, was here with you. You’d been together since you were a child and she was a young teen, and she was like a sister to you.

The morning sickness was starting to fade, thankfully, but you still got nauseous sometimes, so Ling suggested that you have your breakfast in the courtyard to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine while the cleaners dusted and polished your quarters.

When you finally got back to your room after being bullied by Ling into taking a little walk – exercise was good for the baby, she insisted – there was a hairpin lying on your table, next to the novel you’d been reading. Curiously, you knelt down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” you asked Ling, who was trailing a few steps behind you.

“It’s a hairpin, milady,” she responded somewhat cluelessly.

“Yes,” you said patiently, “but why is it here? I’ve never seen this before.” Looking more closely at it, you turned it over a few times in your hand. It truly was pretty, a delicate gold phoenix carved into the end of the pin, decorated with pink flowers and milky jade balls around the base of the phoenix.

Sitting down on the other side of the table, Ling pulled your hand holding the pin closer to her so she could examine it too. “I don’t know, but it’s so pretty,” she sighed. “Maybe you have a secret admirer,” she giggled.

“Yes, the pregnant empress has a secret admirer,” you said drolly. Everything about your existence, from the gilded cage you were trapped in, to your marriage to the most powerful man in Joseon, to the heir you were carrying in you, screamed that you were taken, owned by a man. And not just any man, of course, but the one whose wife was strictly, on pain of death, off-limits.

“Well, you never know,” Ling said lightly. “Just take it for what it is,” she advised. “Someone wants to make you happy!”

“All right,” you accepted skeptically, but you couldn’t quite stop the smile from stealing across your face. After living as a political pawn for so many years because of your family and giving up everything for the man who’d killed your uncle, it did feel nice to think that there was someone out there who liked you for you.

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

You weren’t stupid, of course. You had considered that it was your husband who’d had the pin sent to you. It made sense, after all – he was the only man in the whole of Joseon who could do something like that. It didn’t take long for you to disabuse yourself of that notion, however. Yoongi hated you, considered you the snake in his midst. Taking a L/n bride after defeating the House of L/n was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d made that abundantly clear when you met. Hell, even before that, when he’d sent a platoon to your residence in the countryside to retrieve you.

Your first interaction with the new emperor had gone woefully poorly, with cruel words said on both sides.

As angry and resentful as you were about being claimed as his wife, you weren’t in any mood to be supplicant to the new emperor. When they brought you to meet him, in an admittedly charming gazebo, you knelt without bowing or greeting him, refusing to even look straight at him.

“Are you just going to sulk, then?” he drawled, and you barely resisted the urge to strangle him with your bare hands.

“We’ve done nothing right; surely you aren’t insisting that we follow tradition now?” you replied, your light tone doing little to hide your displeasure. This was all wrong, you knew. Despite Ling hovering just out of earshot keeping a watchful eye on things, you knew that your reputation was at stake simply from meeting the emperor alone before you were married.

It was unusual for you to enter the palace knowing that you were to be the empress, too. Usually the empress dowager chose her son’s bride, based on a series of tests that demonstrated her suitability for the throne. But, you knew, you were already the best candidate, purely based on your bloodlines.

Yoongi leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Of course not,” he said, and his low, dangerous voice caused your breath to catch as you jerked your head forward to look at him properly for the first time. You couldn’t help but gasp at the long scab slicing through his eye. Catching you staring at it, he smiled bitterly.

“Are you afraid of your fiancé?” he asked.

“Of course not,” you hissed. “Just horrified that I have to lie with a disfigured monster.”

You remembered the way he’d jerked back, as if scalded. Okay, so you weren’t blameless in the current state of affairs you found yourself in, this hateful sham of a marriage that neither of you enjoyed. Still, given the acrimonious relationship you had with your husband, it seemed less than likely that he was your secret admirer.

“Poor, pitiful L/n Y/n,” he responded coldly. “Why don’t we get it over with, then?”

“What?!” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth.

He smiled at you coldly. “I will not repeat the mistakes of previous emperors,” he informed you, and your lips pursed in displeasure, recognizing his comment for the jibe that it was – most of the previous emperors in the history of the kingdom had been your ancestors. “Having no legitimate heir is a recipe for disaster.”

Despite your best attempts to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your reaction, you couldn’t hold back the blanch. Smirking in satisfaction at having gotten back at you for the cruel insult, he continued, “We will be wed only when you are pregnant.”

Really, after all was said and done, it was no wonder that you and your husband despised each other.

Still, maybe there was a part of you that wished the pin had come from him. It wasn’t that you were in love with Yoongi or something insipid like that, it was just… you were kind of lonely here in the palace, with hardly anyone you knew around. The only person you’d been allowed to bring with you was Ling, because she’d been your servant for so long.

It would be nice to feel, just once more in your life, like you had a friend around you.

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

As your pregnancy progressed, you grew increasingly miserable and annoyed, and your secret admirer stepped up his efforts to cheer you up. From pretty flowers on your pillow to new books when you finished your existing ones, even pretty ribbons and once, a bag of a rare tea that was supposed to alleviate morning sickness, this mysterious individual was showing you more care than your own husband.

You rarely saw Yoongi these days, since he was usually busy in the throne hall, setting the country back to rights. Being a woman, you never got to attend the morning meetings and reading of the petitions, but from what you heard, Yoongi wasn’t the most competent politician. It frustrated you to no end – you were the daughter and niece of the past two emperors, had grown up learning about politics, history and economics, and yet your role was basically being a baby incubator while your inexperienced husband was led down all sorts of rabbit holes as the ministers tried to take advantage of the situation to fatten their own coffers.

The last straw came when you heard of a proposed tax increase for the peasants, purportedly to shore up the kingdom’s defenses. You knew Minister Su, who was in charge of defense, was greedy and corrupt, but very eloquent and had many supporters among the cabinet. Overcoming your own reluctance to speak to your husband directly, you stormed into his private quarters one evening, while he was relaxing with a drink.

“Get out,” you ordered his eunuch, who was kneeling by his side.

Sambo looked over at Yoongi, who nodded at him. Once the doors slid shut behind the eunuch, you knelt in front of your husband. Since you were about six months pregnant now, it was difficult for you to maneuver, but you managed. “I need to talk to you,” you told him.

“I gathered that,” he said dryly. “Could this not wait for a more appropriate audience?”

“No,” you rejected him flatly. “I heard that you’re considering a new tax on the peasants.”

“That’s none of your business.” He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You should reject the tax proposal, Your Grace,” you said quietly.

“I said, that’s none of your business,” he thundered, slamming his fist down on the table.

You winced, but continued, undeterred. “Minister Su does not have the best interests of the kingdom in mind, Your Grace. There was a bad harvest this year, and the people will not stand for a tax now, especially when they are already so tired of conflict.”

It seemed that bringing up the civil war that had just been fought between Yoongi and your uncle was a bad idea, as he looked even more furious. He sucked in a deep breath to yell at you, but you quickly continued, cutting him off before he could start.

“Your reign is still new, Your Grace, and the people are still unsure about you. Now is the time for generosity, so that they learn to love you.”

“Why does a L/n empress care about whether the people love me? You and your family hate me; you fought a war against me,” he scoffed, leaning back on his hands in a casual pose to show just how little he cared.

Bristling indignantly, you bit back, “You raised an army against my family! You are the usurper! Make no mistake of it, sir, I advise you not because of any attachment to you, but because I care about this kingdom.”

At that, some of the fire left him. “Everyone claims to care about the kingdom, but all they really care about is themselves. Do you think I don’t know that my ministers are watching me, waiting to take advantage? That people are plotting against me as we speak?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s what it means to be the emperor. My father had the same thing, as did my uncle – from you.” Maybe goading him wasn’t the best thing to do right now, but you were pregnant, uncomfortable and irritated.

“Then how do I know that I can trust you?” he retorted, his frustration with the current situation bleeding through his voice.

You were going to murder this man, you swore. He wouldn’t need to wait for any plot coming from outside the palace walls. How could someone be capable enough to enact a coup against the emperor, and yet so frustratingly dim when it came to politics?

“Because my wagon is tied to yours, you idiot. I am your empress now before I am a L/n woman, and this child I carry inside me is a Min child. Do you think that if your rule fails, I can just go home, and all will be well for me? I will be executed together with you, and so will our child.”

That seemed to shut him up. “I’ll think about it,” he finally allowed grudgingly.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing with your forehead pressed to the back of your palms over the floor.

After you’d left, Yoongi thought about how that was the first time you’d bowed to him. It seemed there was much he didn’t know about his wife.

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

The next afternoon, you heard from Ling that the tax on the peasants had been rejected, and a jeweled comb was delivered to your room. This particular gift came directly from Sambo, so you knew that it was from Yoongi, and you accepted it for the apology that it was.

Two weeks later, proof of Minister Su’s corruption and embezzlement came to light, and he was sent into exile. You might have felt slightly smug about it, since you’d hated Minister Su ever since your own father was the emperor, but mostly you felt a little bad for Yoongi, having to deal with something like that so soon after coming to power.

That same night, Yoongi invited you to have dinner with him. Well, it was more like an order, because you weren’t in any position to turn down the emperor, but Ling was excited nonetheless as she got you ready, helping you into your pretty jeogori and braiding your hair into an elaborate bun.

“I’m so happy for you,” she gushed as she stood in front of you, tying the jeogori. “This could be the start of a new relationship between the two of you!”

“You know I can’t get more pregnant, right?” you asked drolly, raising a brow. In fact, you’d pretty much expected him to leave you alone for the rest of the pregnancy and only call on you once you were recovered enough to perform your conjugal duties once more.

“Oh, hush,” she giggled. “I’m sure he wants to see how you’re doing. You are carrying his heir, after all.”

“Sure, that’s me,” you muttered. “The incubator.”

“Be nice,” she admonished. “You want him to like you, so that he’ll give you more privileges. When your son becomes emperor, then you can swan around all day like the crone.” Suffice it to say, neither of you liked your mother-in-law that much.

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m just uncomfortable all the time.” Entering your third trimester of pregnancy, you were having trouble standing around and kneeling on the ground? Impossible. You’d had a table and chair moved into your room so that you could sit comfortably, but as far as you knew, Yoongi still sat on the ground for most of the day.

Ling didn’t know about your late-night meeting with the emperor a few weeks prior, but you wondered if this dinner had something to do with that.

In Yoongi’s room, something similar was happening, as Sambo fussed over his master’s robes.

“Sambo, enough,” Yoongi sighed. “I don’t have to look nice; she’s already my wife.”

Sambo scoffed. “I said the same thing to you about sending her those gifts, but you insisted then too.”

Yoongi glared at his eunuch without saying anything, mostly because he had no argument against that. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the man; he’d done nothing but tease him about his crush since he found out.

Thankfully, your arrival cut Sambo’s fussing short – yet another thing he had to be grateful to you for, he supposed. It stung a little that his wife apparently knew more about politics than he did, but you seemed to want to help him, so there was that.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing slightly.

“Good evening,” he responded. “Please, sit,” he invited, gesturing towards the table he had brought into his room just for this. He remembered how much you’d struggled with kneeling on the ground, and then getting up, the last time you’d come to visit him, and thought that this would make it easier for you.

You’d seen the table as soon as you entered the room, of course – it was kind of hard to miss, since the room was mostly empty. Accepting his offer with a gracious smile, you sat yourself down and clasped your hands together demurely in your lap. Yoongi sat across from you and nodded at the servant standing in the corner, and that was the signal for the food to start coming in.

To be honest, you’d expected to see Yoongi’s favourite dishes being served tonight, since everything at your wedding banquet had been his favourite foods, so you were pleasantly surprised to note that it was the food you’d been repeatedly requesting due to your cravings instead.

When the servants left, closing the doors after them, Yoongi spoke. “Please eat.” He gestured at the spread, and you acquiesced, picking up your chopsticks.

“Thank you for the advice,” he started.

The food you were holding with your chopsticks fell back onto your bowl of rice as your hand went limp in shock. “Wh-what?” Of all the things he could have said, that was the one you’d been expecting the least. In all honesty, you’d expected something more like admonishment for interfering – and a lack of other punishment that would serve as tacit acknowledgement that you’d been right. It was how your father had been with your mother.

To be fair, it looked like it was costing him dearly to thank you. “You were right about the tax,” he ground out.

“Oh…” You recovered quickly and nodded, graciously accepting his thanks.

“But don’t make a habit of interfering,” he continued. Right… so there was a catch, after all.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not,” you said sarcastically. “I’m just the brainless baby incubator, after all. It’s not like I grew up here, or have any knowledge and experience of palace politics, or anything of the sort.”

“You’re a woman—” he thundered, slamming his chopsticks down on the table.

“I am your empress,” you cut him off. “You insisted on marrying me precisely because of my bloodline, so I will not be sidelined, especially when we both know you could use all the help you can get!”

“Help that I can get from my advisors,” he huffed.

“One of your ministers was literally just exiled for corruption, so I don’t know why you want to throw in your lot with them, but sure.” You rolled your eyes. “Now, if that was all, I think I can take my meal in my own quarters tonight.”

Unfortunately, your dramatic exit was foiled by how much you struggled to get out of your seat. Biting back his smile at how cute you looked with your belly, Yoongi leapt to your aid – you were, after all, still his wife and carrying his child, so it was the least he could do.

You pinned him with a glare as he got up to assist you, but were left with no choice but to accept, holding on to his proffered arm and letting him basically hoist you up. “If you need anything…” he started, looking slightly contrite.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” you said. “I might be ‘just a woman’ –” your tone made it clear that you were mocking him, and he had the grace to look slightly chagrined – “but I am the empress, and I am carrying the heir to Joseon, so I get everything I ask for.”

“Good, that’s good…” he looked slightly shifty now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. He’d been acting like a bit of a dick, but to be fair, you supposed, it wasn’t like his attitude was uncommon. With Ling’s reminder ringing in your ears, you took his hand and brought it to the swell of your belly. Your child was strong and healthy, and even through the layers of your clothes Yoongi could feel the flutter of kicks.

“Wow…” he looked entranced, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your child had been conceived in hatred and anger, but you were determined that you would not raise him in that environment. No, he would know only love. You were sure of it.

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

Even though the dinner hadn’t gone according to plan, it was still somewhat of a shift in your relationship with your husband. Now when your paths crossed, he smiled at you instead of just walking by stonily.

The gifts from your secret admirer continued too, which made things kind of confusing for you. On the one hand, you were trying to make this thing with your husband work, if only so that your child could grow up in a positive environment. It was difficult enough growing up in the palace, something you were keenly aware of.

And yet, the continued attention from this unknown person was starting to tug at your heartstrings. You hardly knew who it was but being shown kindness without any ulterior motive was certainly enough for you to think fondly of your secret admirer. He didn’t send gifts that often, usually once every other week or so, but each one brought a smile to your face. Sometimes it was your favourite flower, or a snack from another part of the world, or a cute trinket from the market, but all of them were equally dear to you.

The fluttering feeling that you got in your chest when you saw that he’d left you another gift was somewhat tempered by the guilt over the whole situation. Were you allowed to enjoy this attention? You looked furtively around, slightly worried that someone was going to knock the Japanese cakes out of your hand.

“You know,” Sambo said, standing next to Yoongi, who was peering at you from his hidden position behind a wall, “Some of your subjects might find it unseemly for their emperor to spend his days spying on his wife.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbled, although the words had no heat to them, given how distracted he currently was. He hoped you liked the cakes.

“If you want to spend time with her, you can just ask, you know,” Sambo pointed out. “Haven’t you two been getting along better lately?”

“She still gets annoyed at me every time,” he sighed. “I don’t want to upset her, she looks miserable enough as is.”

Sambo, watching you rub the small of your back as Ling fussed over you, had to agree. At eight months pregnant, you looked fit to pop. “Well, she’ll give birth soon, and then things will be better,” he said, patting the emperor on the back. “You really need to be more discreet, though. She can tell it’s you from a mile away.”

Yoongi looked over at Sambo and scowled. “No way,” he denied.

“Really? So there are lots of men walking around decked out in the emperor’s robes, and have blonde hair, then?”

“Fine.” Yoongi sulked. “Let’s go, then.”

“You know you have a bunch of petitions to review, right?”

“I get it.”

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

To put it mildly, labour sucked. But at the end of it, you had a beautiful little boy, handed to you wrapped in a blanket. “Wow,” you marveled at your son, stroking his cheek with your thumb as you cuddled him close. Your own dear boy. Cradling him in your arms, it hardly mattered that he was a Min, that he represented the end of your house on the throne. Your son was all that mattered now.

Looking up, you saw Yoongi hovering by the entrance to the room, looking on hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. The idea was laughable to you – he was the emperor, there was nowhere he couldn’t go. You remembered your own father striding around as if he owned the place, because he did. No matter how fond he’d been of your mother, it had always been clear in the way he acted that he knew he was the boss. At best, she was a favoured subordinate.

You could see some of that attitude in Yoongi, and you accepted it – that was how men were, after all. But sometimes, peeking through the haughty exterior, you caught glimpses of someone kind and considerate. Someone you could grow fond of.

“Come in and meet him,” you invited.

As he came closer, he breathed, “It’s a boy?” His voice was slightly choked.

Smiling, you nodded. He knelt next to you and peered into the blanket, staring down at his son for the first time. Then he turned his head slightly to regard you. “You look beautiful,” he complimented, and you looked up, surprised. You didn’t know exactly what you looked like, but you were sure you were a mess after labour and childbirth. Your hair was a matted, sweaty mess, and you were dressed simply, in a cotton underdress.

Still, from the way he watched you holding the baby, you could have been dressed in the most beautiful of clothes and jewels.

“Do you want to hold him?” you asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded, passing the little bundle over to him.

“My son,” he said softly, leaning his head down to get closer to the baby. “Min Man-bok.” The name had been chosen by the astrologers, who said it would bring him great fortune throughout his life. You hoped it was true. This boy would grow up to be the emperor that united the warring houses of Min and L/n, and finally put an end to all the senseless violence that had stolen the lives of your brothers, and later, your uncle.

As you watched them – your husband and your son – you felt a sense of contentment like you’d never known before. In that moment, it hardly mattered that they were the emperor and the crown prince, that the weight of the kingdom rested upon your baby’s tiny shoulders. For that brief window, they could just be… yours.

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

The birth of your son changed everything. The gifts that had once been so dear to you because they meant that someone was out there thinking of you now seemed almost uncomfortable, like unwanted attention that threatened the security of your family. You knew it was ridiculous – after all, the giver of said gifts had been quietly doing so for months, never trying to push his luck or making his identity known to you.

Still, though, as you became closer to your husband, that nagging feeling that you were doing something wrong wouldn’t leave you. Thankfully, the gifts seemed to dry up, and you wondered if your anonymous admirer was really that astute. Whoever he was, you owed him your gratitude. He’d known when to start, and, it seemed, just when to stop.

In actuality, Yoongi had just been too busy to think about sending the gifts. Having a son took up much of the time that he wasn’t already spending governing, which had also increased in the past month or so. There was so much entertaining to do, as the lords and ladies of the land came to express their fealty to the crown prince, and as Yoongi made ever more ambitious diplomatic alliances with other kingdoms now that his reign was secured with the birth of his son.

In whatever spare time he had, he was constantly hanging around you and Man-bok, fawning over his son and enjoying your company. Despite your confinement, you thwarted the rules by sitting right outside your door to get a little sun and fresh air, often holding your son while you did so. It was a beautiful sight, one he wanted to continue to drink in for the rest of his days.

It was no surprise, therefore, that his priority wasn’t sending cute gifts to you anonymously, since he was always around you. When your confinement finally ended, he threw a little two-person party, ordering the kitchen to make all of the food you’d been craving since you were pregnant that had been off-limits for you, including your old favourites. He even managed to get the cook from your country estate into the palace, to make your childhood favourite.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said at the end of it, resisting the urge to lean back on your hands to give your stomach more space.

“Thank you,” he countered. “I am forever in your debt.”

“It was my duty,” you demurred. It was the truth – you’d always known that it would be your job to bring heirs to your husband.

“Still.” There was a beat of silence as a servant rushed to fill your cups with rice wine. He lifted his cup to toast you. “You have brought new hope to this kingdom. An emperor who will unite the houses of Min and L/n.”

“I thought our marriage accomplished that,” you giggled. You might have had too much alcohol tonight, after almost a year of not having any.

“You really think so?” he breathed, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and told him they were for him.

“Yoongi…” It was the first time you’d called him by name. In your defense, the open, vulnerable way he was looking at you made it difficult to remember that he was a warrior king, despite the scar on his face that attested to his experience fighting a war. “Of course, Your Grace.” You recovered from your slip quickly, and you flushed slightly, hoping he wouldn’t remember it.

Of course, that was a doomed wish. He’d committed it to memory, the sound of your precious voice speaking his name, and in that almost fond and tender tone, too. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and knew he was done for.

When he left your quarters that night after dinner, he barely waited till he’d descended the steps to pump his fist in the air. That was the most successful interaction you’d had with him to date, not counting when Man-bok was born, of course, since he was pretty sure you were so exhausted you couldn’t snipe at him if you tried then.

“Your Grace!” Sambo, walking a step behind him, sounded scandalized.

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

“So, tonight went well,” Ling prompted as she helped you get ready for bed. You sat in front of her, letting her take the pins out of your hair and sighing in relief. Your updo was often twisted so tightly it pulled on your scalp, and the giant metal pins hurt, to say the least.

“How would you know that?” you murmured, trying to keep a straight face. Ling would never let you live this down if you confessed to her just how much you enjoyed the company of your husband these days. Not after you’d screamed so loudly and for so long about how you hated him and didn’t ever want him to touch you.

In your defense, he’d really been a nightmare to live with at the beginning, cold and angry, mistrustful of your intentions. Not that he’d had any reason to trust you based on the way you’d treated him. You still cringed to think of the angry, cruel words that had been exchanged between you. You’d mocked the scar on his face from your uncle, the previous emperor, and he’d taken pleasure in describing the way he ran his sword through him in exchange. You’d laughed at his tenuous grip on the throne, and he’d—

Well. Suffice it to say, both of you had moved past that.

Ling reached over you to shift the mirror so that you could see your own face in it. “You’ve always had a shitty poker face, milady,” she explained. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

You sighed. “I knew I should have gotten different servants when I came,” you responded without any heat.

“Please, as if you have the patience to teach someone else just how you like your morning routine,” Ling scoffed, recognizing your teasing for what it was. Finally removing the last pin from your hair, she smoothed her hands over it as it tumbled down your back, then picked up the brush to comb through it.

“You’re right. I guess I’m stuck with you,” you responded, tilting the mirror slightly so you could look at Ling in it.

“Whatever. Stop trying to change the subject,” Ling ordered. “What happened tonight? You looked so happy when he left, and he could barely hold back his grin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that,” you said defensively. “I’m barely even recovered from giving birth; I’m hardly ready for more.”

“All right,” Ling conceded, though you could tell from her tone that she was still amused. Belatedly, you realised that your defense hadn’t been about how you felt about your husband at all. “Have a good night, milady.”

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

Having a son changed everything. You knew, perhaps better than anyone else, save your brothers, the dangers that came with being an heir to the throne, and it worried you to pieces that his life would never be safe.

You’d told your husband before, completely unsympathetically, that this was what being the king would entail. Having people after you, coveting what was yours, always lurking in the shadows and waiting for a time to strike… the idea that your own son would be subject to the travails of being the emperor made you want to clutch him to your breast and never let him go.

Yoongi caught you in one of your moods one afternoon, sitting in the gazebo in your private gardens, leaning against a pillar as you rested your son against your thighs. You cooed at him as you played with his hands and feet, smiling as he laughed back at you, but the furrow of your brow gave you away.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down next to you. It was rare for you two to be alone – Ling and Sambo were usually hanging around, and Man-bok’s nanny and wet nurse weren’t too far from the baby either. But you’d wanted a little time to bond with your son alone, so they were hanging out by the pond a small distance away. Ling had become friends with the nanny and nurse, and they were more than happy to have a little free time to gossip.

You picked up your infant son’s hand and used it to wave at him. “Hello, daddy,” you said in a high-pitched baby voice, and Yoongi smiled tenderly at the both of you, although you were still looking down at Man-bok and didn’t see it.

“Hello, my son,” he replied, leaning in to pick Man-bok up. You straightened his clothes a little as Yoongi stood the baby up on his lap, bouncing him a little. Yoongi was truly a remarkably involved father, especially for being the emperor.

“Yoongi, I’m worried about Man-bok,” you confessed in a small voice, looking up at your husband for the first time. Even the scar on his face now was a reminder of how difficult it was to be the emperor – Yoongi had been lucky to escape with just a disfigured face. He hadn’t even lost his vision.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yoongi asked with a frown, turning the boy slightly in his grasp to inspect him. He looked healthy enough, but you never knew with babies, really.

“Nothing,” you rushed to reassure him. “It’s just that being the crown prince is dangerous, and being the emperor is even worse.” Your voice choked up as you explained. Saying the words out loud made them more real somehow, and you almost wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n…” Yoongi looked over at you, shifting Man-bok so that he was being held more securely against him. “Is this about your uncle?” At the beginning, he’d never thought much about the fact that you were related to the previous emperors, but now the fact that he’d basically murdered your uncle in cold blood hung over his head like the sword of Damocles.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.” The words stuck in his craw, but he forced himself to say them anyway. It was a lie, but if it was what you needed to feel better…

Instead of accepting his apology, you made a rude noise. “For what?” you asked.

“For your uncle…?” Confused now, Yoongi cocked his head at you and furrowed his brow.

“Why would you need to apologize? Of course you raised an army to take the throne. It was his fault for leaving potential heirs alive.” The nonchalant way you expressed that sentiment gave him pause. He’d never taken you for someone so cavalier about violence and death. “He did the same thing to my brothers.”

The way your lips tightened as you said it clued him in to the fact that that was what was really bothering you. Of course, your brothers. The two princes that your uncle had had imprisoned and then murdered to secure his rule. When your father had died, your uncle had been declared regent since the crown prince wasn’t old enough to rule, and he’d wasted no time cementing his own authority instead.

“Y/n…” You avoided his gaze, instead reaching for Man-bok. He relinquished the boy to you and you hugged him close, needing to feel your son’s warm, healthy body pressed against you. “I promise you,” he continued, his voice full of conviction. “Nothing will ever happen to our son. Not so long as I live and breathe.” Ducking in, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of Man-bok’s head.

“Really?” The faint hope in your voice made his heart clench. In all the time he’d spent alternately admiring your kindness and cursing your stubborn, know-it-all streak, he’d never seen the vulnerability that you were showing him now. In hindsight, it was silly that he hadn’t realized this earlier, but of course you were scarred from the civil conflict that had been raging. Your family was in the thick of it all, and as much as the men and women involved were royalty, they were also your blood relatives. Really, it was a wonder you’d turned out as normal as you had.

“I swear on my life.” He’d never meant anything as much as he did now.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Holding Man-bok with one hand, you reached for him with the other, sliding your arm along his shoulder to pull him close for a kiss. It was sweet and tender, a wonderful, perfectly fitting first kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as you drew close, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he could. Your lips were soft and you smelled like roses, just like the perfume he’d given you in secret.

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

It was highly unusual for the emperor to share a bed with his empress. Intimacy was carefully planned based on auspicious dates, and after the deed was done, you both got dressed and went your separate ways. You knew that, and yet you slipped into his room that night, after Man-bok’s 100-day celebration.

You’d gotten mostly undressed after the banquet ended, grateful to be out of your restrictive clothing. Man-bok was sleeping, of course, with his nanny, and you’d dismissed Ling too after she helped you out of the empress robes. Dressed in just your pajamas, you pulled a warm shawl over your shoulders and left your quarters. You just had so much pent-up energy from earlier, and you needed to talk to someone about it.

“Hey,” you said softly, slipping in through the doors just as Sambo was leaving. He gave you a sideways glance, but you ignored it.

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted, smiling at you. He too was in his pajamas, already in bed, the covers pooling around his waist as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…” You swallowed, feeling a little silly now. This could have waited till tomorrow. “I guess I didn’t want the night to be over,” you confessed. It had been so much fun tonight, getting to meet and talk to everyone. Your sisters and old friends had come to the palace, and Man-bok had been so cute in his little ceremonial robes.

“I get it,” he said. “Come sit.”

You came closer, sliding the shawl off your shoulders, and knelt next to his futon. Illuminated in the soft light of the lamp nearby, the long blonde hair he’d left to tumble over his shoulders seemed to glow softly. Your own hair had been hastily put back in a bun – a lady never left her rooms with her hair down, after all. It was nowhere near as intricate as anything Ling could do for you, but it sufficed.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You know I did,” you giggled, leaning closer.

“Yes, I saw you having a grand old time with your sisters,” he teased, fondness evident in his voice. Ever since the kiss you’d shared, your relationship had been evolving. Yoongi didn’t know if you would ever forgive him for what he’d done to your family – despite your dismissive attitude towards your uncle – but he was content with this. You letting your guard down around him, seeking him out and enjoying his company… it was more than he’d allowed himself to hope for.

“Oh, I haven’t seen them in over a year,” you enthused. “It was so nice to see them all again! Thank you for inviting them,” you said, more quietly now. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision, inviting the L/n clan tonight.” Despite everything, you knew he was still insecure about his rule.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at you, then noticed for the first time the soft light glinting off the hairpin you were wearing, the one he’d bought for you. “Oh, you’re wearing the pin! I was right, it does look good on you,” he complimented.

“You— what?” Your voice was shaky, your eyes wide as you reached up to wrap your fingers around the pin, and Yoongi realized that he’d fucked up.

Just to be sure that it was the right one, you pulled it from your hair, causing the long locks to tumble over your shoulders. Brushing it aside impatiently, you inspected the pin. Sure enough, it was the same one that you’d received almost a year ago, and you’d never found out who sent it to you.

“It was you?” The words trembled, fragile in the darkness of the room, barely there, like a wisp of smoke.

“I… yes.” Yoongi was watching you carefully, his hands held out placatingly in front of him.

“But why?” It felt like your mind was shutting down, unable to reconcile this new information. Back when you’d gotten this pin, you could barely stand to be in the same room as your husband. You hadn’t even started being friendly until after Man-bok was born. To know that he hadn’t felt the same way, that he’d been quietly watching you, thinking of you…

“I just wanted to make you smile,” he said honestly with a half shrug.

“Yoongi…” Your voice was choked up, and he was starting to panic now, not quite sure what he’d done wrong. Even if you hadn’t welcomed his advances, he hadn’t overstepped, right? All he’d wanted to do was make you less miserable, and now he was thinking that he would have been better off leaving you alone altogether.

“Is… is that okay?” The words were hesitant, Yoongi ducking slightly to look at your face.

Sniffling, you nodded, swiping at your tears impatiently so you could look at him clearly. In the dim, flickering light, Yoongi’s face was the most beautiful, dear thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Your eyes roamed his face, seeing him as if for the first time. He was so handsome, your husband, your emperor.

“Are you disappointed? Is that why you’re crying?” Worry crinkled Yoongi’s brow. He knew he wasn’t the greatest catch. Throne aside, his hair was a strange colour and the scar running dramatically across his face marred him permanently. He was short and quiet, awkward, caustic… The insecurities came roaring to the forefront.

“No,” you denied, grabbing his hands and bringing them to your chest. You shuffled closer yet, so that your forehead rested against his. “I’m not disappointed at all. Yoongi…” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as you brushed your lips across his softly. “Thank you.” For caring about you even when you’d cursed him. For being by your side, even when you hadn’t known it. Just for being him.

Yoongi’s hand slipped from your grasp before reaching up to cup your face, his thumb running across your cheekbone tenderly. “You’re welcome.” He understood what you meant and responded in kind. “You give me more than you know, Y/n.”

The urge to give him more was rising within you. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you swung one leg over his lap, so that you were straddling him. His hands went to your waist, supporting you and tugging you closer. “Y/n,” he groaned. “What do you want from me?”

Your response was unequivocal. “Everything.”

That was all the permission he needed. Yoongi’s hand travelled up from your waist to the back of your head, bringing you in for a fiery kiss. He poured all of the longing of the past months into it, his lips moving over yours with urgency. Try as you might to keep up, you couldn’t. You’d only had sex with him to conceive before, and it had always been a hasty, dispassionate affair. You didn’t know what to do with your hands or your mouth, your palms resting lightly on his shoulders. You liked this, enjoyed the way his tongue slid against yours, but your body was rigid with uncertainty.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Yoongi broke away from the torrid kiss to ask. His hand on your waist rubbed you soothingly as he leaned back to take a good look at you.

“Uh, yeah, I…” You stammered. “This isn’t like before,” you finally said. All you knew of sex was what he’d shown you before, quick thrusts with his hands holding onto your thighs while you clutched the bedsheets and tried not to let your pain and discomfort show.

It was vague, but Yoongi knew what you meant, and he flushed with shame. “I’m going to make it up to you, okay?” he said, wrapping his arms around you and turning so that you were lowered onto the futon. His forearms bracketed your body, holding his weight up as he lowered his head for another kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he slurred against your lips, one hand reaching for the tie of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, your hands sliding around his waist as you held on to his clothes, tugging him closer to you. You felt the hard press of his erection against your belly, and were filled with curiosity. Before, you’d never really wanted to get close to it, and he’d basically just shoved it into you with little fanfare. You’d never even gotten a good look before.

Undoing the ties to his trousers, you slid your hand in, running your fingers hesitantly along his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and you jerked your hand back as if scalded.

“I’m sorry,” you started to apologize, and he backtracked immediately.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured you, nosing at your chin before he trailed kisses down your neck. You sighed and tilted your head, giving him more room.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes, really,” he said, sucking a little mark right over your collarbone. Emboldened now, you tried again, this time wrapping your hand softly around the shaft. His skin was soft here, and so smooth, but you could feel the steely hardness underneath.

“Ah, you’re so good,” he praised, and you started stroking him lightly, carefully.

“Allow me,” he breathed as he slid his hand down your body, groaning as he found the wetness between your legs. “So perfect for me,” he sighed as he started stroking your clit softly, watching you for your reaction.

You moaned luxuriantly, throwing your head back as your hips rocked. You’d never felt anything like this before, and if this was what sex could be, it was no wonder everyone seemed to like it so much. As you grew distracted with the pleasure suffusing your being, your hand slowed down and then stopped on his erection, but he didn’t mind. Coaxing the sighs and moans from you was more than enough for him.

“I’m going to put my finger in now,” he warned you, and your eyes opened in confusion.

“Why?” you wondered.

“I have to stretch you out, love, so you can take me easily,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you.

“You didn’t before,” you pointed out, and he grimaced.

“Please forget everything I did before,” he groaned, sounding very much like he was in pain. “None of it was right, and I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You—what?” That was new. You hadn’t expected it so soon, if ever.

“Oh, fuck.” He reared back at that and clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. “I didn’t mean to say that! Please ignore it,” he pleaded. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you put your clothes back on and ran out of there right now. What an embarrassing lapse of decorum.

To his surprise, you did none of that, instead wrapping your hands around his wrists and tugging them away from his face. “Did you mean it?”

“Y/n—” he whined, his face hot.

“Yoongi, please,” you said, and the tenderness in your voice gave him courage.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I don’t expect you to say it back! I know it’s too soon, and you might never feel that way about me, and that’s okay, really, I—”

You cut him off by tugging him close to you and kissing him. “I love you too,” you murmured softly when you separated.

“Really?” His voice was small, and you smiled as you nodded.

“Fuck, I’m going to make it all better,” he swore, his voice deepening into a growl towards the end. With a renewed sense of purpose, he pushed you back into the futon. His hands were everywhere as they stripped you of your clothing, and you felt a little exposed lying there bare for him to see. You were more than aware that your body hadn’t quite bounced back from pregnancy, and he’d never seen you completely nude anyway.

The sheer reverence reflected in his gaze did much to boost your confidence, though. “You’re so gorgeous,” he rasped, bending to tug a nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching as he laved at it, his hand returning to its previous mission of getting you ready to take him. His thumb rolled over your clit gently as he slid his fingers into you, first one, then two, pumping slowly to loosen you up. The wet, lewd sound soon echoed through the room.

“Yoongi,” you breathed to get his attention, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. The tie had already come undone and the front was hanging rather uselessly by his sides, and it wasn’t difficult to remove it. Yoongi got the message, though, stripping himself off with far less fanfare than he’d done for you before coming back with a vengeance, as if the seconds he’d spent away from your body were too much to bear.

“Yoongi, c’mon,” you begged inarticulately, pulling his body down to yours by wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Stop it,” he admonished. “I’m going to get you nice and ready for me. You have to be patient.” But you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, writhing on the mattress.

That certainly got his attention, and he looked back up at your face, seeing the expression of wild abandon painted across your features. Your eyes were shut and your mouth open as you lost yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, long hair spread across his pillow.

“You ruin me,” he accused as he withdrew his hand, using the slick coating his fingers to lube up his cock before he positioned it at your entrance. You moaned and arched, tightening your legs around him to draw him in deeper.

Before, when he’d done this, it had hurt. You’d been dry and he hadn’t put any effort into preparing you or making it a pleasurable experience for you, and you tensed up, remembering how unpleasant the experience had been before. You wanted to make him feel good, though, because he’d done the same for you, and it was that which motivated you to urge him into your body.

When he slid in, inch by glorious inch, contrary to your expectations you didn’t feel pain. No, there was a stretch, but it was intensely pleasurable, and you writhed against him. “Ah, Yoongi, it feels so good,” you gasped.

“Yeah?” he said, sucking marks into your neck. “You like that?” When he finally bottomed out, he rested his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to retain some control.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you moaned, wriggling and clenching down on him, desperate for more.

“Fuck, don’t move,” he gasped, his eyes wide as he clutched your hip. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” you insisted, ignoring his instructions.

“Y/n, you don’t even know,” he groaned, bracing himself as he started to move his hips. He was gentle at first, making sure that it didn’t hurt, but you were impatient, whining that you wanted more, and before he knew it, he was really going at it, one arm hooked around your leg to hold you open for him.

“Yoongi, yes, yes,” you exulted, thrilled. The expression on his face, his brow furrowed tightly, was endlessly exciting for you, and you loved the motion of his jaw as he clenched hard, focusing on pleasing you.

Adjusting his position, he started thrusting again, this time skidding against your g-spot with every thrust. To really seal the deal, he reached down to rub at your clit with his fingers, drinking your every sound and movement up eagerly. You raked your nails down his back as your legs tightened around him, clenching down on him hard as you came.

Faced with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him rhythmically, he couldn’t hold it together much longer, pressing his forehead into your neck as he reached his own orgasm, groaning as his hips stuttered sporadically.

When it was over, he slumped down over you, barely remembering to tilt his body at the last second so that he slid off you and onto the futon. “I love you,” he gasped, throwing one sweaty arm over your chest to drag you closer to him so he could press kisses over your face. “I love you so much.”

Smiling, you turned your head, rubbing your nose against his affectionately. “I love you too, Your Grace.” The teasing lilt in your voice as you called him that warmed his heart. Before he could say much more, however, you yawned and turned, slinging your arm around his waist. “Good night,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

“Good night.” He rested his hand on the back of your head. His empress, his wife. His love.

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