#i “grinned and beared” postpartum

[arreish]

As much as I loved my OB, if I ever have another kid I will be getting a midwife. And I will be thinking way harder about not doing an epidural bc of how my back is still messed up. Everyone is sharing their stories so I'll share mine too:

I got pregnant relatively easily once my husband and I started trying. I was overjoyed but also terrified because of my mother's history (two miscarriages, an emergency c-section with my older brother, pre-eclampsia, and high risk pregnancies with myself and my two younger siblings). My aunt had 7 children and her own complications (the last two were twins, she was on bed rest for months, and she is now a doula!)

I had really bad morning sickness, though not as bad as some (I was never hospitalized), and the sheer exhaustion of the first trimester bowled me over. I was WHOLLY unprepared for that and that is one of the most minor things that can happen in pregnancy.

I also had gestational diabetes. I had to take medication for it (metformin and later insulin), and I had to limit my diet a ton. I was basically surviving on meat and vegetables, and I craving fruit constantly. I was constantly hungry and I couldn't do anything about it because I couldn't risk my sugar getting out of hand because it was that bad. Keep in mind, I have no personal history of diabetes or pre-diabetes.

It was also bc of the gestational diabetes that I had to be induced. I didn't get a choice on that, and I still don't know if I should have fought on that point. So I was induced 1 week early. Induction started at 3am and I did not birth my son until 9:38pm. That's 18 hours of labor. Because the pitocin was negatively affecting my labor progression (his heart rate would slow with every contraction, I had both external and internal heart monitors for him). And I was miserable the whole time. I wasn't allowed to move during my whole labor. Even rolling to my other side had to be done with permission and nurses helping me adjust. It wasn't until the evening that I was allowed to sit, they turned off the pitocin and had me in stirrups and sat way up (which helped me actually labor down and that's when things progressed, and very quickly).

And my epidural. I would have given anything for pain relief at that moment and I'm glad I asked when I did because I had to wait another hour (and another full bag of fluids) to receive the epidural. The anesthesiologist who placed my epidural was kind, talked me through everything, and the nurse i had to lean on during the procedure was my favorite of the whole time in the hospital. He placed my epidural, it sucked. Then he says "you know what.. I'm going to move it down one." And I had to go through the process of being stabbed between my vertebrae AGAIN. I don't know how "normal" my experience was but I'd never heard of an epidural being moved because it's in the spine and can be somewhat dangerous. I lost the ability to cough while I had the epidural (stomach muscles were dead numb) and the nurses were concerned my lungs would be affected because of how high it was reaching. And to this day, 18 months after I gave birth, my spine is still tender to the touch (and sorry to hubby, but I can't arch anymore without excruciating pain), my sciatic pain ebbs and flows worse than before pregnancy, and I'm just now feeling like my hormones are reaching "normal" levels.

I love my kid and I wouldn't have opted not to have him (for me personally) because of my poor experiences. However, I will absolutely be so much more prepared if I have another kid. Especially for postpartum.. my god that was genuinely scary for my personal experience. I look back and I'm so glad I found my way out of that. Looking back makes me want to cry bc of how far gone I was.

the thing is like. i get that it's scary and makes people who do desire to get pregnant uncomfortable when we talk about the brutality and violence of pregnancy and the damage that pregnancy can do to your body

but you deserve to give informed consent to that process.

the lies around pregnancy - that it's inherently safe, that it doesn't do you permanent damage, that it's only extremely rare for people to die of pregnancy complications, etc like

all of these are lies constructed so that more people will get pregnant w/o knowing all that

there needs to be more talk about the impact of miscarriages and how common they are, how different abortion processes are and how accessible they are

but also like. talking about how pregnancy fucks your body up should not be taboo

this is a process that permanently changes most people's bodies, and that's even if the pregnancy doesn't do them like. severe illness or injury

and i just think everybody should have a right to KNOW that

bc to live in a society that intentionally obscures and hides facts about a completely optional and dangerous process does so for a reason, and that reason is based in a very sinister ideology that does not value bodily autonomy or informed consent

[pursuitseternal]

“𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓮, 𝓥𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓹𝓽𝓾𝓸𝓾𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓮…”

Ascended Astarion x f!reader | E | 1.3 K

A gift for Stacey Monroe, art on Twt and BlueSky

Full nsfw image

Summary: Pregnant and heavy with child, your Master takes a moment to worship your body, the fullness and signs of your condition only make him want you more… and again

CW: Pregnancy, body worship, postpartum body is beautiful, cock warming turns smut, milk kink, breast play, PiV, creampie, breeding.

Ao3 Link | BG3 fic Masterlist

A warm night. A summer night. A night where the air was heavy, and so are you. Months of life inside you, a swollen belly and aches and pains that wrack your whole body. Little gives you comfort at this stage, you know it well. Each year, you are swallowed whole by your heat, bred with the spawn of the Ascendant, your love, then you carry them for months.

You run your hands over your belly, its curves hard and swollen with the child inside you. And you look down at him, where he sprawls in the grass of your palace garden, the green blades matted from your vigorous fucking already done. His cock still throbs, hard and recently drained in your cunt. You grin, sliding your hands down the sweat on your bump to brace yourself on his chest.

For this was the one most delicious, most efficient, and most satisfying way he gives aid to your aches and pains of pregnancy. His skilled, nimble fingers run over your curves, where your skin is taut and stretched to its limits. The warmth of his palms slides up your belly to cup your breasts. So late in your term, so swollen, they are already full and tingling with milk. Primed and ready for the new life that’s nestled in your belly.

In fact, your body is so attuned to bearing life for your master, you had already given him heirs, spawn, so often before. Your breasts are already leaking early milk. It gathers in small beads of cream that he thumbs away as he squeezes them and warms them, one in each hand.

You whine a little, hissing. “My lord, they’re so sore,” you murmur, the pain making your hips roll with his cock still buried and warmed inside you.

But he only kneads them a bit harder, more deliberate to draw out a trickle of thick milk from your nipple.

“Pet… so delicious,” he purrs beneath you, one arm bracing himself as he sits. His head buries into the valley of your breasts, licking the sweat from them even as he coaxes more milk to leak. That warm tongue laves to your left nipple, lapping the stream of yellowish cream before he tenderly suckles it in his lips.

No teeth. No fangs. He knows your heavy, swollen body well enough to know what brings you pleasure-pain and what will break you.

A keening whine is loosened from your tongue, your hips grinding on his as you involuntarily bend with pleasure. “Master… love…” You roll your hips again, already spread open so perfectly for your Sire beneath you. In your body… in your mind you tell him hardening for you again. He raises his hips ever so slightly, that hardness inside you pressing against your swollen cervix again.

And fuck, it feels good.

Muscles are warm from his body, your tendons stretched open for him already, cock balls deep in your breeded cunt.

He gives a deep, husky sigh, contented and yet unsated once more. “My treasure, are you so eager? As if I could put a second babe inside your already swollen belly?” His laughter is languorous and vibrates between your thighs.

You expect his claws to dig into your hips, his own hips to snap up into you to bounce you hard and fast…

But he doesn’t. His crimson eyes trail over your form perched atop him, his cock your throne. The warm, nimble pads of his fingers trace those lines on your belly, where you’ve stretched to fit the life inside you… they linger and worship the few scars you have low on your belly, beneath your navel.

Where you’ve given life by different means, your battle scars from your birthing bed.

His touch is fond, attentive as he draws over their lines, memorized by heart. “My beautiful consort, my precious treasure,” he croons from the grass beneath you. “How the sight of you laden with child does things to me. I could spend hours buried deep in your cunt, marveling at the mystery your body is.”

Then, his hands resume their places in the crests of your hips, gripping you in place as he plants his feet to the earth. His hips rise and roll as he thrusts. Your name is a sweet little sigh on his breath as he groans, cockhead pushing into your cervix again.

You blush, your insatiable appetite for sex, for him, burns tenfold all the hotter with a baby in your belly. Fresh arousal leaks on his cock to cool on the planes of his pelvis.

Astarion gives a low growl deep in his belly, as he feels your heat multiplying with every thrust. “So good for me, so warm and supple, so round and ripe with my seed as it grows,” he croons his praises, crimson eyes scanning your every inch, his tongue licking his lips as if he can taste your arousal in the air. He grits his fangs, hands clawed into your skin, careful to take his time. Your cunt weeps, already so swollen and overstimulated, so sensitive from his earlier attentions. “My beloved consort, my most perfect creation…”

He begins to thrust into you a bit quicker, your hands coming to rest on his. Palms slide down his arms until you are bracing yourself in the fragrant grass, hands digging into the earth and framing his head. Taking your own weight forward, you buck, hissing at the force of the drag, his cock splitting you. The nerves in your walls are on fire with pleasure and pain, making you whine with urgency in time with every push of his cockhead into your cunt.

“Please… love… Master… Please,” you keen louder and louder, leaning forward to take him shallower, dragging the fullness of your breast against his face. His breath is hot on them, they hurt with milk, tingle nearly numb from overstimulation. The moment his mouth brushes one nipple, you scream, riding his cock faster. Claws dig at your waist, pulling you harder to meet his thrusts up into you.

With each movement inside you, he grunts, he growls, his tongue licking his lips as his eyes dilate to almost pure black circles ringed in the thinnest band of scarlet.

“Fertile,” he pants, “voluptuous,” he growls, “and most importantly… mine…”

His voice grates as he plunges into you, your body shaking, walls sucking him in deep as you shudder in agony and bliss.

It happens so fast inside you, the walls of your womb tightening, squeezing around the fullness you bear as you slowly come undone. Your arousal pours from you, wet and slick sounds as he fucks through your orgasm with his snapping hips.

You squirm on him, watching his feral, frenzied face grins at you. Adoration, delight, and primal lust shine in his eyes as he watches you come undone on his cock, his offspring tightened in your swollen belly. “Mine… mine… my mate… my consort… my… pet…” he snaps the last word short as he comes inside you again. Warm seed coating your generous slick.

You’re sure he would breed you a second time if he could, and the desirous light in his eye and his fanged, smirking grin only makes you wish it were true.

For a second, you rest on him until he rolls you on your sides. Cock still buried in your cunt, his hand runs over your side, brushing the aching swell of your breast where it’s sticky from your dripping milk. He trails it down your arm, gathering your hand in his, he raises it to place a reverent kiss on the back of your knuckles.

“Beautiful,” he praises your heavy laden body, “simply beautiful.”

[toovaeloe]

maybe, baby!

you feel sick and your boyfriend automatically assumes you’ve got a bun in the oven because he has a debilitating case of baby fever

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: mention of morning sickness and throw up (very light), Gojo (yes he is a content warning)

established relationship; fluff drabble

wc: 645

Satoru’s been pretty preoccupied the last few months, you’ve noticed.

First it was when he was lingering in the toy aisle of the store.

When you had pointed it out and teased him about it, called him a man child and all, he had scoffed with an equally playful smirk and fired back some jest.

But then you noticed it again when he dragged you to the baby clothing store while you two were shopping at the mall.

“Look!” He had beckoned you, hands pinching the socks of a pink bear onesie. His lips were wobbling in an exaggerated pout, his eyes watering as he turned to face you looking like he was about to ugly cry. Not that ‘ugly’ was really within his jurisdiction; he was the most ethereal ugly crier to the point it was almost irritating. But you couldn’t be irritated with him at the moment. Not with how adorable he looked so wistfully teary eyed right now.

“Look how little the feet aaaaarre!” He’d whine, thrusting his face into the crook of his elbow as a couple of sobs took him.

Needless to say you had to drag him out of the shop. But it was more like you guiding him out; patting him on the back and soothing him as he cried about how cute the tiny baby mittens were.

And one night you had come home to him sitting at the kitchen table with all the lights off, the only illumination the pale light of his screen on his face as he intermittently clicked the keyboard or scrolled. His eyes were laser-focused and unblinking as you peered over him to see what he was looking at,

It was an array of tabs; some of them overfilled carts on online catalogs of baby supplies and formula, others articles on symptoms of pregnancy, afterbirth, and postpartum depression…and Reddit..?

“r/pregnancy, how to comfort my wife when she hates my guts at 17 weeks pregnant” !?!??

Yeah. He admitted to mayhaps, perchance, having just a liiiiitttle baby fever. He did his best to not be too overbearing about it. But this is also Satoru Gojo we’re talking about.

One night while the two of you were simply cuddling in bed, arguing over if Levi Ackerman or Erwin Smith was better, you suddenly felt an odd wave of nausea. You’ve felt off all day…maybe you ate something bad and it gave you a stomachache?

No, you were going to throw up. Right now.

Satoru noticed the odd expression that had settled on your features, but before he could react you were already clambering out of bed and booking it toward the bathroom. He was there in a matter of seconds by your side as you hurled your guts into the toilet bowl, rubbing your shoulder and hushing you with gentle words and praise. But when you blearily looked over to him…he had the hugest grin on his face. You have no words.

’Fuck is bro smiling about!??

He didn’t acknowledge your dumbfounded expression, only beamed up and pumped his fists in the air.

“Yaaay! I’m so excited to be a dad!!!” He cheered.

He read on some online forum that morning sickness was a symptom of pregnancy and that it could happen practically any time in the day despite the name. This had to be it, right??

You sat there completely bewildered as he continued cheering ”Yay!!! yay, yaaaay!!!” Probably the happiest any man has ever been to witness his girlfriend hunched over a toilet bowl and spewing her guts.

You were still in shock as Satoru began rustling through your bathroom cabinet, pulling out— a box of pregnancy tests!? When did he even buy those—

“Here, sweets,” He’d usher it gently towards you with that goofy exuberant smile still plastered on his face.

“You should take one right now!”

a/n: I did say I was gonna post it awhile ago and completely forgot about it 😭! So here it is, Ü

i need gojo to disappear from existence— fr, he’s a disease i hate him sm

everyone have a great day!!

[hypersonic04]

Cosy Sunday

hello everyone! sorry for being MIA for a while, please accept this fluffy, domestic, cosy one-shot as my apology. also, the reference to talent show results at the end is purely for my own comfort because watching strictly come dancing on a cosy winter evening is the light of my life. enjoy my darlings!

word count: 1,764

I wake up to the sound of gentle cries from the crib next to our bed, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to gain an extra second of peace before the chaos of newborn-parent life begins. Before I can even get out of bed, I feel the mattress lift from behind me.

"I'll get her." He whispers to me as I turn my head, watching him lift her tiny body onto his chest. He shushes her, gently rocking her up and down, his hand nearly the entire size of her body.

"What time is it?" I squint to at the clock on the nightstand, rubbing my eyes tiredly.

"7AM, our girl slept all the way through." He smiles down at her as her small hands attempt to grasp at his bare chest. The combination of postpartum hormones and his gentle whispers to her make me emotional as I lie in bed, pulling the covers up under my chin and sniffling a little. He looks over to me and I smile sleepily.

"Do you want to sleep in mummy and daddy's bed, hm?" He says to her, lifting her up in front of him. Her feet scrunch up in her tiny onesie and he pouts at her, bringing her over to me.

He hands her over to me as he gets back into bed, sitting up and brushing a few strands of hair away from my forehead. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept well, thank you, my love." I smile softly, also sat up now and cradling the baby as he kisses me gently.

We sit in silence for a while, the soft brush of his thumb against my arm comforting as we lie together. It's around half past eight when Ross gets out of bed and makes us both a coffee, bringing it upstairs and putting the latest episode of Bake Off on while I feed her. It's a chilly day, the middle of October in fact, the trees surrounding our house now a golden-brown colour. Our dog sleeps at the edge of the bed, wrapped up in the white duvet like a baby in his own right.

"Do you have any plans for today?" I ask as I stand up with her in my arms, walking around the room gently after her feed.

Even now, after being together all this time, I blush at the sight of him shirtless in bed. He's got the covers pulled over his lap, a mug looking ridiculously tiny in his hands, his dark eyes following me as I walk towards him.

"I don't think so, darling." He smiles up at me, taking my free hand in his as I stand next to the bed and pressing a firm kiss to my wedding-ring-adorned knuckle. "Why, what are you thinking?" He squints his eyes a little and I giggle at his attempt to read my mind.

"I'm thinking about going for a walk this morning, and then going for a Sunday roast."

"A walk and a roast with my girls? The dream." He jokingly swoons at the thought and I laugh at him, running my fingertips through his hair. "Here, let me take her while you get ready."

I put my playlist on and get ready in the en-suite, laughing to myself when I hear him singing along to the 90's boy band songs I have on. For my outfit of the day, I go for a chunky knit sweater and jeans, complete with a pair of boots.

"I didn't realise you were such an avid Boyzone fan." I giggle as I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, blending my make up as I watch him sing the lyrics to her.

"She's just like her Uncle Matty, she's trying to sing." He smiles, fingers gently combing through her thick, dark hair.

Once I'm ready, I take her from him and get her dressed as he does the same.

"Look how cute your daughter looks." I grin as he makes his way downstairs, putting her into the pushchair his mum and dad bought us. It's beautiful - cream with big wheels, perfect for days like today.

"Oh my god." He throws his head back dramatically when he sees her in a white, teddy-bear-material onesie, the hood pulled up with little ears on. "I was going to say how did we make something so cute, but she's half you, so it makes sense." He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and presses a kiss to my neck, making me blush and giggle at the same time.

"Ross, she's literally your carbon copy." I smile, resting head on his next to me.

"True, very true." He raises his eyebrows in agreement. "Come on, Ollie!" He says to the dog after a moment, putting his collar and lead on.

With that, we head out, Ross holding the dog's lead and me pushing baby in her pram. It's not too cold now, the sky clear and the sun shining. We head into the woods, smiling at other people on their Sunday morning walks. I laugh as Ross throws the ball for Ollie, his little legs moving faster than I've ever seen.

"Do you want me to push?" He asks, turning around to look at me with a smile. I grin, knowing that he's asking to push the pram, rather than offering.

"Yes, please."

We swap, my arm linked through his as we walk together, his eyes fixated on his little girl bundled up in front of him. I didn't think it was possible, but watching Ross become a dad has made me fall in love with him all over again.

I glance over at him and wonder how I got so lucky. He looks so broad and tall, the navy fleece sweater he's wearing really playing into the whole DILF thing. His hair is pulled back into a bun, his large hands holding onto the handle of the pushchair, and I have to avert my eyes before it becomes weird.

"I love you." I say, breaking the comfortable silence and kissing his sweater-covered bicep. He presses a kiss to the top of my head in return.

"I love you more."

"You're so good at this."

"At what? Pushing the pram?"

"No," I giggle. "Being a dad. Being a husband."

"It's only because of you." He glances down at me, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiles gently. "It's only because I'm your husband, because she's our baby." I swallow deeply in attempt to not cry in the middle of our walk. "Plus, you're a great mum, so it's easy to be a parent when it's with you."

"Stop, I'm going to cry." I sniffle and he laughs loudly at my emotional instability. I smack his arm teasingly, crouching down to put Ollie's lead back on as we reach the main road and cross to go to the pub.

We order our lunches, Ross sat with a pint in front of him as he feeds the baby. I steal a sip as he does so, still not used to the privilege of being able to drink again.

The pub we're in is so cosy - dim lighting, candles lit and an autumnal wreath on the door, dog-friendly too with Ollie asleep under the table. I smile to myself when I spot an elderly couple sat across from us, holding hands as they have their Sunday lunch. I think about how that will be Ross and I someday, reminiscing on the days when we were recently married and parenting our first baby.

We eat our roast dinner as the baby sleeps in her pushchair, both of us checking on her every two minutes. Conversations of work gossip and the Netflix show someone recommended makes up our lunchtime discussions, the restlessness of our daughter being the only reason we don't end up staying here all night. Ross downs the last bit of his pint, standing up and heading over to the bar to pay the bill. I swaddle her in her blanket again, pressing a small kiss to her head before placing her in the pushchair. We leave and head back the same way we came, Ross holding Ollie for a little bit on the way back. I smile to myself at how he still babies his beloved boy, despite having an actual child now. I can hear him talking to him, kissing him and ruffling the curly hair around his ears.

It's nearly dark by the time we get back, around 5pm.

I hear him running the tiny baby bath upstairs as I empty the dishwasher from this morning, attempting to calm her little cries by pacing the hall with her.

"See, this one is when mummy and daddy got married," he stands in front of the picture frames on the wall, pointing to one from our wedding day. "Look how pretty mummy looks." He tilts his head to the side with a soft smile on his face, swallowing and blinking harshly. "And this one is all your uncles! Look at Uncle George, he looks so cool there."

I make my way upstairs and assist him in bathing her, getting her dressed and brushing her hair gently. She's sleepy from her bath, yawning and rubbing her face with her tiny, scrunched up hands. I settle her down in her crib, quietly closing the door to our bedroom behind me before making my way downstairs, now in pyjamas with my make up off and hair up.

Ross is sat in the sofa when I get downstairs, feet up and arms crossed as he watches the football scores from today.

"You're such a dad." I tease as I stand beside him, running my fingers through his hair and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He rests a hand on my hip, holding me to him for a few more seconds before pulling away.

"I know, right?" He laughs as I sit next to him, my legs pulled up to me as I rest my head into his side. He changes the channel and puts the results of some tacky talent show on, making me smile at the fact that I know he hates it but is willing to endure it for me. His arm around my shoulders holds me to him, his free hand offering me a chocolate button from the bag he's been hiding in the cupboard. I accept gladly, closing my eyes and sighing heavily.

"You okay?" He murmurs into my hair, his words muffled.

"Yeah, just really happy."

[seiyasabi]

Ripe For The Pickin’

(This is a Yandere Kita x Fem Reader Story! Hopefully y’all like this lmao, sorry if his hick accent is annoying lmao, I thought it gave him ¬flavour¬

Tw: !!noncon!, !misogyny!, breeding kink!, !Detailed postpartum depression!!!, !!!Mentions of attempted suicide and murder of a child!!!, !Mental illness!, !Defeatist attitude!, !Disassociation!,  housewife reader!, threats of physical harm!, manipulation!, mentions of kids!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution! Note: Part of my family are farmers- my grandpa specifically, and he speaks very similarly to how I wrote Kita’s dialogue (the joking bit). He had a farm in Hawaii growing up, and he always jokes that he’s ‘but a country folk,’ so I mean no offense to those who own a farm. )

Throwing down his work cap on your kitchen table, Kita visibly brightens at your busy form. Your two year old son is balanced perfectly on your hip, your other hand stirring a pot of Udon. The steam rises around your head, slightly flushing your (skin colour) complection. 

Looking up, your eyes immediately meet the white haired male’s, causing you to freeze up momentarily. He sends you a warning look. 

“Welcome Home, Shinsuke,” A wobbly grin spreads across your painted features (just how Kita liked- he likes when you try to look good for him), catching the attention of your son immediately. 

“Daddy!” He practically hops out of your hold, rushing to the large male. Your unwanted husband scoops him up in his buff arms, swinging him around. 

“Whoa, one’a these days yer gonna throw yer Pa’s back out,” He grins happily at his carbon copy, smooching the small boy on his grey hair. 

The little one giggles cutely, basking in his father’s presence. You quickly approach Kita, hugging him from the side, and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “We’ve missed you all day, My Love,” He always likes it when you’re sappy- it makes him feel wanted. 

At your words, he delivers a lingering kiss to your lip tint stained lips, your son half in your arms and half in your husband’s. You lightly pinch your babe’s cheek, causing him to giggle, before you kiss him on his forehead. Kita visibly brightens at your affectionate side, his open arm wrapping around your waist, “What’cha makin’ fer dinner, Pretty Lady?” 

You cringe internally, yet you can’t help the blush that forms on your pretty face, “Kazue wanted Udon- I hope that’s okay,” Shinsuke nods, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“‘O course,” He lightly pinches your son’s other cheek, “If our growin’ boy wants Udon, by God, he’ll get it.” 

-

Settling Kazue down in his bed, you give the sleeping boy a tender kiss on the forehead. As much as you hate Kita, you don’t have the heart to hate your son. He, like you, didn’t ask to be here, so you decided to be the best mom he could ever have. 

Smoothing his blanket over his lower body, you tuck the other bits under him, and lay his favourite stuffy next to him. Once done, you step away from the slumbering babe, and make your way out of his room. Kita is waiting in the night light lit hallway, leaning against the opposing wall. 

You jump slightly, not expecting him to be there. 

“Is something wrong, Shinsuke?” A practiced smile appears on your face, hands clasping behind your back to keep you grounded. 

He says nothing, motioning you to follow him, before turning and walking towards your shared bedroom. Shuffling after him, you try to still your rapidly beating heart. Did you do something wrong? 

Kita isn’t one to shy away from punishment. If anything, he revels in the momentary feeling of power-that is, until your broken body and mind are left in the aftermath. Then, he can’t help but feel horrible, because in some twisted way, the man truly loves you. So, he’ll try to cuddle and kiss his wrongs away, trying to forget that he’s the catalyst of all the things going wrong in your life. 

Burying those thoughts away, you step into the darkened room, noticing immediately that Kita is settled on his side of the bed. He’s stripping himself of his overshirt, exposing his wife-beater underneath, “Ya know, I think it’s time fer the boy ta have a brother.”

It feels as though the world around you is crumbling. Just when you gain a sense of normalcy, the bastard rips that away from you. 

Your smile visibly wavers, but you try to hold strong, “I-well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Your hands are trembling, your heart practically being torn from your chest, “Kazue is still a toddler, I think it would be better if he was around five. Then, he can interact with-” Kita holds up a hand, halting your speech. 

“Yer gettin’ too technical fer the simple folk in tha room, Pretty Lady,” He stands to his feet, discarding his slippers, before slipping his baggy jeans off of his lower half, “Jus’ say yer too selfish to give yer lovin’, hardworkin’ husband tha things he deserves-” 

Kita knows that you had postpartum depression. He knows that you not only almost hurt yourself, but also your precious son. He knows that you had to be sedated at one point to even continue living. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t care. 

Tears fill your eyes, as you finally let your feelings become known, “That was horrible to say, Shinsuke. You know how hard it was for me-”

“It was also hard fer me too, ya’know,” He’s doing it again… trying to manipulate you into being the bad guy, “Seein’ ya go bonkers was hard ta’ watch. Plus, seein’ our son almost drown in tha tub-” 

“Stop it!” You finally lose your cool, surprising your usually collected kidnapper, “You don’t get to claim it was hard for you, when everything is your fault!” His mouth open and closes like a dying fish, unsure what to say, “If you waited for me to be ready to have children, I wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. If I was given the help I needed, I wouldn’t have gone psychotic. If you hadn’t stolen me away from my life and forced me to bend to your will, none of this would have happened!” By now, you’re a sobbing mess. He always does this. Kita always breaks you down until you seem crazy, but you’re not. You’re just tired of how he treats you like a baby maker, tired of how he treats you like nothing, yet claims you’re his entire world. 

But, when you hear him sigh softly to himself, you know that he doesn’t care about your feelings, “Do I need to use the gag? I thought we were above that.” 

Knowing that refusal won’t be tolerated or respected, you don’t bother wasting anymore of your breath. Slipping off your house slippers, you shuck off your dress, revealing your bare chest and panties. More tears slip down your face, as you lay down on your large shared bed. 

Shinsuke grins at your compliance, quickly moving between your legs, and stripping you of your drawers. His rough fingers rub at your clit and slit, “Good girl. ‘Ya know yer man jus’ wants what’s good fer ya, an’ a baby is good fer any good woman.” 

You ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Kita continues to rub against your clit, trying to coax an orgasm out of you. But, you don’t give him the satisfaction. 

Staring at the ceiling, you let your mind go. Your dissociated body reacts well to his ministrations, your arousal coating your thighs, as they tremble in lieu of an orgasm. 

His fingers dig in deep, as they force your pussy open. Feeling how relaxed you are, he decides that you’re loose enough to go right in. 

Pulling out his thick cock, he bumps the head against your slick cunny, “Don’ worry, Darlin’, yer man will take good care of ya,” He slides in with relative ease, your hips bumping against his.  

The normal constricting feeling in your chest has long since faded, instead, the feeling of acceptance at the fact that you couldn’t get out of this replaced it. 

Your body jolts and rolls with Kita’s harsh thrusts, his panting warm against your neck, “Yer so good fer me, (Your Name), yer gonna bear me healthy sons,” The gummy walls of your pussy knead his cock thoroughly, trying to milk him for everything he’s got, “I knew you were perfect fer the takin’.” 

He forces your knees next to your head, the head of his cock bashing into your cervix painfully. Fortunately, that was enough to set your body off. A gush of cum drenches the both of you, as Kita slams himself inside of you entirely, allowing your womb to be filled to the brim with his fertile cum. 

“Ya never disappoint, Darlin’,” He smooches you on your lax lips, ignoring the fact that your head is practically empty, “Maybe you’ll have twins this time.” 

With that, he starts his hardcore pace one more. 

But, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you can drift away from the events unfolding in front of you, 

[truglori]

Daddy’s baby

Request: Erik tryna be romantic months after the reader gives birth

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Fluff, Smut

Another day passed by leaving Y/N stressed. It was her second week back at work after being on a three month maternity leave. To her it didn’t feel like it was enough time off. Her body still going through its early postpartum phase. She could feel the faint cramping in her stomach every few hours. Her breast became engorged and leaking with her milk. Then there was her anxiety that spiked up after having her beautiful baby girl, Charisma Stevens. Y/N’s head would always snap up thinking that her little girl was somewhere close by whenever she heard the slightest noise of what she thought sounded like a cry.

Laughing to herself Y/N shook her head as she placed her laptop and binders in her work tote bag. She did it again. It was the end of the day and she was beyond ready to pick up her baby from daycare and head home to take a hot shower. Her body was yearning for some sense of alleviation. Walking through the halls of her office Y/N waved goodbye to all of her colleagues before making her way to her Jeep Grand Cherokee. Placing her things in the passenger seat she put on her seatbelt and headed to the daycare.

The place was a little under fifteen minutes from where she both worked and live. It was right in the middle. Y/N didn’t want to bring her baby somewhere, where she thought would be to far to get to her in case anything happened. That was another affect of being a new mom. She would always over think about the littlest things, but she figured better safe than sorry.

Strolling inside Y/N watched all the toddlers running around freely. There was building blocks and toys scattered everywhere. Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at the mess that she knew her home was going to experience as well within the next two years.

“Hi, Mrs. Stevens! I have little miss Charisma ready right here. Everything is in her bag and she should be all set to go. She’s such an angel.” Ashley, the young caretaker, spoke with a wide smile as she handed over a bundle up Charisma in her car seat.

“Thank you so much. I know she barely makes a sound when she’s around other people but when she’s at home it’s nothing but baby talk.” Y/N grinned as she retrieved the baby bag.

“Well she was great today. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Y/N waved and walked back to her vehicle. Giving her baby two smooches she strapped her in properly.

“You ready to go home and see dada?” She put on her best baby talk and bent down to rub her nose with hers. Charisma smile blowing little spit bubbles.

Giggle Y/N fell in love all over again. She had Erik’s smile and dimples. She also had his characteristics already as well. Y/N noticed that at only three months Charisma only made noises around her and Erik but everyone else she was quiet. Just like Erik. He had to take some time to warm up to people before he became talkative.

Arriving at their one level home Y/N pulled in the driveway. She seen Erik’s Lincoln truck parked. He was home from work earlier than usual. Erik was a probationary firefighter, meaning he was still in the entry level phase. He’s only been in training for a month but Y/N noticed that he really loved it. After every shift Erik would come home removing his clothes and tell her about his whole day. So whenever he did that it would make Y/N’s mood ten times better.

Before she could reach the back door to unbuckle Charisma, Y/N was met with Erik walking out the door. No longer dressed in his Class A uniform but instead in a Nike sweat suit he jogged to her car greeting her with a bear hug.

“Princess. I missed you baby!” Erik’s tight hold lifting Y/N off her feet. He lips found hers kissing them three times before attacking her neck with pecks.

Laughing she wrapped her arms his neck. “Baby I missed you too but let me take out Charisma.” Y/N giggled between each word.

Putting her down immediately Erik lightly moved her to the side going to the car door and opening it. When he seen Charisma his eyes lit up the same way they did when he first watched his daughter come into this world. It was something he always did every time he was away from her for a long period of time.

“Hey daddy’s princess. Daddy missed you more, but don’t tell mommy.” Erik cooed to Charisma as he unbuckled her and took her out after making sure her head was secured.

After grabbing her tote and purse Y/N scoffed with amusement. “Really Erik.”

Rocking her side to side Erik glanced up to Y/N. Giving his famous smile that got her hooked when the two first met. His golds showing.He bit on his bottom lip revealing his dimple and walked up to her. He leaned down giving her and open kiss and slipped his tongue in her mouth. Pulling away he tugged her lower lip with his teeth and then kissed the supple flesh.

“You know you Daddy’s baby.” Erik’s deep voice spoke in her ear.

Y/n eyes traveled up and down his body as she followed him in their home. They walked into the livingroom. Y/N placed her bags down on couch near her. Taking off her shoes she lifted her legs up under her placing one on top of the other. The sound of Erik babbling with the baby caused her eyes to turn in their direction. Y/N smiled watching her husband and infant interact with each other.

“Here let me go wash her up. She’s been out all day babe?” Y/N sat up to take Charisma to the bath but was cut off with a knock on the door.

Her brows furrowed. “Erik you expecting any company?”

“Yeah actually I am.” Handing over the baby to Y/N, Erik walked to the door. He opened it giving the person on the other side a hug.

“Hey, mama! It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming to get Charisma for the night.” Erik smiled letting in Y/N’s mother.

Y/N face displayed both confused and joy. She was happy because her mom was here but she was confused when she heard Erik say that she was here to pick their daughter up.

“What’s going on? Hey mama.” Y/N greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m coming to pick up my grandbaby so that you and your husband can get some alone time together.” Y/N’s mom grinned as she played with Charisma’s small fingers.

Looking at Erik he stood to the side watching. Y/N could tell by his eyes that he was hoping she would go with it without putting up a fight. So she did. She handed over her baby to her mother gently caressing her hair.

“Okay well let me get her things together-“

“Already got that!” He pulled his baby bag from behind the couch.

“What about milk does she have-“ Y/N walked to the kitchen to double check but Erik blocked her grabbing her by the waist.

“Baby I took care of everything and it’s just for a night. She’s going to be fine.” He used his thumbs to stroke her cheeks.

Sighing Y/N gave in. Of course she knew that Charisma was going to be fine with her mother but this was going to be her first night without her since she was born. She was going to miss her but she knew that her and Erik very much needed this time alone together.

“Alright I’m leaving now. I’ll be back in the morning before you guys head to work.” Y/N’s mom place the baby in the car seat, making sure that she was in safely, and left.

Now by themselves Erik wrapped his arms around Y/N waist. He noticed his wife’s tension and nerves was getting the best of her as she watched their newborn get carried out of the house. But he was hoping that he could help ease that with the plans he had for them tonight.

They haven’t had a romantic night to themselves since Y/N entered her third trimester in her pregnancy. With all of the mood changes and aches and pains she dealt with it was tough for them to get away and spend a peaceful night with each other. So this was the first time in months that they would finally get to spend a one on one alone.

“C’mon princess, Daddy has something I want you to see.” Guiding her by his grip he had on her hips he walked her to their bedroom. When they came to Y/N gave a surprised gasp bringing her hands over her mouth before laughing.

“Baby what is this?”

“What you mean what is this? Look at this masterpiece I created.” Walking in front of her he held his hands out proud of what he done.

It was a homemade theater with a fort built over it that had mini lights going around glowing up the dark room. There was blankets and pillows laying out that had snacks and a bottle of Champagne sprawled out on top of them. The tv already showing Y/N’s favorite movie, The Notebook. But there was a food warmer with forks on the side of it that caught her attention.

“Now what is that?” She walked over to the area getting on her knees. Taking the top off of the pot her eyes rolled in the back of her head when she smelled her favorite dish that Erik would make for her. Shrimp and Chicken Alfredo.

Erik took a seat next to her observing her excitement. “Remember this was the ONLY thing that you would eat when you were pregnant? Had my pockets hurting buying you some shrimp every damn day.” Grabbing the forks he handed her one as they began to dig in.

Y/N’s eyes closed when the shrimp touched her taste buds. She would still get a craving of this meal every now and then but it was nothing compared to how she used to eat it almost daily when she was carrying Charisma.

Erik pressed play on the movie as they cuddled up underneath the blankets. Taking turns between drinking out of the bottle of warm Champagne and dipping into the food warmer Erik and Y/N ate in silence watching the film. Into the middle of the movie Erik paused it and stood up.

“Where are you going? The movies not over.” Glancing up Y/N place the bottle down making sure it won’t tip over.

“With this long ass movie we gonna be here all night . Take my hand.” Reaching out he waited for her to grab it. When she did he lifted her up and lead them to the bathroom.

“Babyy!” Y/N lip went to a pout. Her eyes began to water as she saw the bubble bath with rose petals on top and candles surrounding the medium size tub.

Erik walked in front of her not saying a word. He began to unbutton her work shirt. Slipping it off he followed with her pants next with the help of her stepping out of them. Y/N covered her stomach. A habit she did every since the baby. She felt insecure about her belly not snapping back like how she wanted it too and how the loose skin would hang. Removing her hands Erik looked at her. His eyes became saddening when he would see her hide her body from him.

“Not tonight princess.” Bringing her hands up to his mouth he kissed them. “Don’t hide from me what I caused to happen.”

Bending down on his knees he kissed her tummy. Erik felt Y/N’s body shiver from the contact. Taking the pads of his thumbs he pulled down her panties. Y/N’s breast fell up and down feeling her arousal heightened from the inside. Erik lifted back up to remove her bra with ease.

“You ready?” He leaned forward kissing her forehead.

Answering with a head nod Y/N raised a leg over one by one and dipped in. Looking up at Erik she smiled.

“Erik when did you run this bath?” She asked running her fingers through the lukewarm water.

“Like thirty minutes before you came home. Why?” He questioned curiously as he took off his sweat jacket leaving him in a crisp white t shirt with his gold chain draped over it. Moving some of the candles he sat on the rim watching her.

“It’s warm now that’s why. You should’ve had me get in here first and then we could’ve had movie night.” She joked using the wash cloth on her legs.

“Well that’s nothing we can’t fix.” Since the water level was low enough he turned the knob to the hot water and let it run. “Better?”

Biting her lip Y/N gave a shy nod. “Thank you daddy.”

Grabbing the towel from her hands Erik poured her favorite body wash into the rag. Dipping his hand into the water he let it gain a lather before using it to clean her with it. Y/N could feel the gentleness of his hand as she relaxed. She felt him travel all over her body before reaching her pussy. Erik’s bare hand began to caressing her outer lips.

Spreading open her thighs so he could have a better access Y/N cuffed the back of her knees bringing them up to her chest.

“You givin up the pussy like that?” His chain swinging above her playing with her clit. Going over the hard nub in circles Erik bent his head down to kiss her when moans began to leave her mouth. Y/N grasped onto his shirt as she used her hips to meet his movements. Bringing her free hand up to her left titty she started to tweak and pull her nipple. Even through the water she could feel her wetness escaping.

“Daddy get me out of this water and fuck me.” It was more of command than a question and Erik was more than happy to abide. He waited until Y/N was standing up fully before grabbing her by her thighs and carrying her back to the bedroom. He didn’t give a damn about getting his clothes wet because his main focus was to please her and that pussy.

Plopping her on the bed Y/N crawled to the middle, taking a pillow and putting it over her body as she watched him take off his shirt. He sent her a look that let her know that, that wasn’t going to stop him. Y/N seen the colors of his eyes grow darker. Which told her one thing. Erik wanted to fuck, fuck. Bringing her hand over her pussy she bit her lip prepared to take the beating she wanted badly.

Erik stepped out of his pants which left him in nothing but his briefs. The print of his thick and heavy semi-hard dick poked out making an appearance. Walking towards Y/N he waisted no time grabbing her by the ankles and dragging her to the edge of the bed. Hearing a squeal leave her lips he glanced up before bringing his face up to hers. His lips millimeters away.

“Ima tell you this once and once only... you keep me from getting in this pussy like how I want Ima fuck you up. Got it.” He gave her a fair warning but he was serious.

“Yes daddy.” Y/N reached her head up biting his lower lip.

Erik’s low eyes studying the way she sucked on making sure he was going to her mouth to use later. Taking each hand he spread her legs open by the back of her thighs bringing them as far as they could go. Going to her neck he sucked on the flesh taking his time. Running his tongue over one of her spots before flicking it slowly. Creating hickies and then kissing them.

Y/N gripped his dreads pushing him lower. She was beyond ready to feel his warm tongue suck her nipples and pussy. “Please daddy.” Her whimpers touching his ears.

Following the wants of where his wife desired him to be next Erik went to her left breast tonguing her nipple. Flicking the hard pebble over and over before sucking it. If it was for him to say, the left titty was his favorite which is why he always stayed there the longest. Switching over he gave the right the same treatment.

Y/N began to grow impatient, needy, and bratty all in one. She wanted to control the situation but was always out dominated by Erik. When she tried to push his head down further Erik grabbed her wrists bringing them to the side of her head and purposely stayed at her breast longer than he planned.

“You know you not in charge so cut that shit out.” His deep raspy voice retorted while kissing down her stomach paying close attention to the area knowing about her insecurities towards it.

Finally coming face to face with his weakness he held her legs open. Her phat pussy lips soaked and covered with her natural lubricant. Her pink showing with the spread of her lower lips. Erik was ready to eat her pussy till she was crying. It was that pretty to him. Making a trail of kisses on her inner thighs he kissed each lip with appreciation from all the times it made him nut.

“Still my shit, ain’t it?” His breath hitting her skin making her jump.

“Eat it then daddy-“

The feeling of his warm spit cut her off. Looking down at the sight Y/N’s mouth hung open watching the long string of liquid leave her husband’s mouth.

“Hold this shit open for me.” He demanded her.

Her hand went down as fast as the order came spreading her lips apart. She could feel the saliva against her fingers. But it didn’t matter the moment she felt Erik give numerous flicks to her nub. Her reflexes causing her legs to try to close but couldn’t with the firm grip he had on her thighs. He teased her going back and forth between doing that and sucking on her lips. Her hips thrusting and ready to feel the human vac machine suck her clit.

“Daddy suck that clit please.” Y/N begged. She could get nasty when the time came and she didn’t care about what she had to say or do just for her to cum.

Using his tongue Erik ran it along her slit. Going to her opening he dipped inside the warm tight treasure coating his tongue before going to her clit and sucking it. The taste of her juices dripping out made his dick put a tent in his briefs. The moment it reached his taste buds Erik became a predator tearing apart his prey. Her pussy. Repeatedly sucking her bud Erik had Y/N tugging on his dreads pushing him into her pussy.

“Ugh baby I’m gonna fuckin-“ The yelling coming from her throat made it raw and cut her sentence short. The tight cramping in her lower belly causing a tear to fall from the corner of her eyes. She exploded right on his tongue and he kept going.

Constant sucking to her clit had her whimpering. Her pussy was becoming sensitive and she couldn’t take it anymore. Pushing at his head hoping he’d get the message but he didn’t when he smacked her hand away. The continuous assult on her pussy caused another orgasm to erupt shortly after the first one. Erik lifted up. His beard covered in her essence as he bended down kissing her. His tongue swiping over hers letting her taste herself.

Sending a rough smack to her thigh he pulled away. “Come suck this dick.” Standing up straight and pulling down his underwear his nine inch dick sprung out.

Y/N’s body felt drained but going against the feeling she got on her knees staying on the bed. Leaning forward she kissed the head with no hands looking up at him.

“Thank you for making me cum daddy.” Holding him up by the shaft Y/N stuck her tongue out wetting up the sides.

“That ain’t the last time you cumin for the night.” Taking his long arm he slapped her ass cheek making her arch.

Opening her mouth Y/N smacked the tip of his dick on her tongue before flicking the sensitive area underneath it. Erik groaned and brought his hand up to her hair. He gripped the kinky locks giving it the shape of a ponytail. Y/N giggled as she took him into her mouth. Her head bobbing up and down creating extra saliva to get him sloppy. She felt him grow in her mouth and that made her pussy throb and become wetter. The swivel of her tongue rubbing against his under tip whenever she came to it had Erik sucking in air and backing away.

“Daddy don’t run.” Y/N coming off his dick to tease him.

“You tryna make me nut with that fucking slick ass tongue of yours. Damn ma keep going.” He slapped her ass for encouragement.

Y/N obeyed stroking him with one hand and focused on his head. She was trying to get him there but Erik didn’t want to bust from head. He wanted to get up in her guts. She began humming to block her gag reflexes to deep throat him. The vibrations from her mouth and watching the strings of spit falling on her titties sent Erik over the edge. Taking her ponytail he pulled her off him.

“Turn yo ass around now.” His voiced barked as he felt defeated. He had to gain his control back.

Y/N knew she was in trouble by the sound of his voice.

When she wasn’t moving fast enough Erik grabbed her by the hips placing her into position. Smacking her ass he punished her for trying to make him cum too quick. Gripping the base of his dick he rubbed it up and down her second lips coating himself with her slick lubricant before sinking inside her with one thrust. The sudden movement had him regretting it when he felt like he was going to bust off entry.

Y/N’s mouth ajar and eyes rolling up feeling the long and girthy dick enter her depths in one motion. Usually she would work her way down on him but tonight Erik was going crazy. Her wall clenched down on him from the invasion. One hand gripping the comforter and the other reaching behind for his.

“Ohh fuck...daddy you’re so deep already.” Y/N moaned blowing out air as she took deep breaths.

“Sss I know baby, pussy good as fuck.” Erik groaned while slowly starting up his strokes. He had to pace himself because he felt close but he wanted her to cum again.

Using her hips for leverage he thrusted into her feeling her tight wet walls gripping him. Slapping her ass he picked up his pace when he felt his nut wavering off. Y/N mouth spewing out curses coming out of her arch. Placing his hand at the top of her back he held her in place as his hips stroked up in her. But when she came up again he got annoyed.

“Man keep that fuckin arch and let me get in this pussy.” He stated irritated.

Not stopping his movements he put his hands in the middle of her back and put his weight on her. He figured that would help her since she acted like she didn’t know how to. Erik grinded his hips rotating them getting deeper in her pussy. He was trying to hit that button that he touched plenty of times before.

Biting her lip from the pressure she felt pushing at her stomach Y/N cried as she felt him hitting her spot. Not only was he stretching her pussy open but he was digging deep. Closing her eyes she started to see white dots in the darkness of them. Her brain becoming almost unresponsive as he stroked her into oblivion.

“Daddy okayyy!” Taking her hand Y/N brought it behind her. She wanted him to let up on her because he was beating her pussy up.

Sweat droplets now appearing on Erik’s forehead as he lifted up. “What’s up, you gon throw it back?”

Looking behind her she whimpered a ‘yes’. Erik smirked putting his hands behind his back but continued his strokes. He waited until she caught his rhythm before faltering his movements. Y/N used the weight of her ass as she threw it back on him. She held on to the sheets hearing the sound of their skin clapping together. When she felt his tip reach deeper than she wanted it to she scooted up only taking half of his dick.The sting of a hard slap on her right cheek made her tightened her hold on both the covers and his dick.

“Get back on that dick. I’m not gon tell you again.” His voice barked.

“Okayy.” The whimpers leaving her lips involuntarily.

Going down on him further Y/N reached behind her gripping her ass cheeks to help him get in there the way he liked. Her stomach going into a cramp as she noticed she was going to orgasm again for the third time tonight. Her walls slicking up and gripping his dick as she continued to fuck herself.

“I feel you gripping this dick.. go head and nut and after you do you better not stop till I get mine.” He thrusted his hips up making sure she understood him.

Due to that Y/N’s body trembled beneath him as she came on his dick. Her cream coating all over him. But she didn’t stop. Even through her overstimulation she kept going because she wanted to make this nigga nut. She began to throw her hips back against his harder. Looking behind her she was met with Erik’s dark eyes watching her. He brought his hand up gripping her hair. Not moving his hips but just having something to hold.

“Make this dick nut.” He stuck his tongue out at her teasingly before smirking.

The combination of his golds showing and the way his chain hung around his neck as he bosses her around had Y/N going crazy. Reaching under her she gripped his balls massaging them to help him get there. Putting her kegal exercises to work she squeezed her walls when she reached the tip and released reaching the bottom.

Erik’s tried backing out but Y/N followed him everywhere he went. “I want my nut daddy.” She mocked him flicking her tongue at him and bit her lip.

Erik’s lips went in a tight line as he felt her throwing her pussy on him. His eyes clenched shut when he felt the tip of his dick throbbing. He was there and she knew it. The sound of him sucking in air and his stomach becoming sunken in always gave him away. Erik met her thrust four times before filling her up with his seed. He waited until he was milked out before he slowly pulled out of her.

Y/N twerked as she laughed. Laying flat on her belly she looked behind her at her husband who had his hands on his head catching his breath.

“You tapping already?” Biting her lip she smiled holding her chin up with her hand.

Erik bent down kissing both ass cheeks.

“I ain’t tapping outta shit...we just getting started.”

________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

This is my first request. I hope y’all like it!

Tag-list

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[weirdbabs]

i stumbled on a reddit post of a guy asking what about parental rights for foreigners in japan bc his wife is getting increasingly violent and physically beating him, and while some people were giving him what seemed to be really good advice, others were like eh it’s probably just postpartum depression (their child is 1, and he says that she was violent before she got pregnant but its only gotten worse). this one comment i just came across is like oh, shes hitting you and stole/broke your phone? youve woken up to a punch in the face? just grin and bear it, take her out to diner, shell calm down after a while

somebody else asked if he should just put up with domestic violence and if they would give the same advice to a woman and they said its different when a man is violent and a woman is violent “how much damage can a woman realistically do to a man? not much”

[softomi]

The Soulmates

prompt: I believe in soulmates. I believe with my whole heart that you are my soulmate, but I believe that soulmates don’t always equate to the love of our lives. So, I repeat; you are my soulmate but not the love of my life.

series: The Girl 

find part one & two here: ☆ ♡

Atsumu was many things, but prone to tears was out of character for him. 

“That took a long time.” You look at him when he enters. Your hands catch what he throws and you’re disappointed seeing apple slices, “I wanted something sweet.”

“Sorry.” He breathes out slowly, “I forgot what you wanted so I just got you apples, they say its good for postpartum.”

The redness in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you, “Hey.” He turns away from you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu’s rubbing his eyes, “Just tired.” He’s moving towards the couch settled near the window, suddenly noticing the lack of a child’s wail in the room, “Where’d she go?” His voice was soft and quiet, he forgets about the redness in his eyes as he looks at you.

The apple slices are happily stuffed in your mouth, “She’s in the nursery. I thought I’d let us get some rest for the night.”

“No!”

“No?” You give him a questionable look, “You just said you were tired.”

But he wasn’t tired; he was wide awake, more than he’s ever been before. As your figure slept soundly on the bed, his finger hung over the small glass crib. He was holding his breath, exhaling when she yawned; eyes fluttering open for a second only to close back for slumber.

His phone went off, the past two hours he had been receiving congratulatory messages from everyone. Osamu had taken a photo of him, one in which he was holding his daughter; Atsumu completely in shock at how tiny she was in his arms.

She released a tiny whine, Atsumu stood up; carefully his hands supported the back of her head, the other encasing her body as he positioned her in his arms. He felt it, the way his cheeks were starting to coat with the tears. He was breathing heavy, one arm supporting her, the other he used to wipe the snot from his face. Something about the way she was so small, it made him cry.

It stirred you, the weeping sounds. The baby missing from the crib, you looked at his backside; broad shoulders swaying back and forth. The small sobs emitting from him reached your ears. You didn’t want to bother him; you didn’t want to take away the little moment he was having with his daughter.

So for almost an hour, you pretended to lie asleep. Through his blubbering and constant wipes of his snot, you closed your eyes. Even as he began to whisper to her, talking as though she would be able to answer him, you tried to repress the smile on your face.

The door clicks open, Atsumu cleans his face and you stir as though you’ve just woken up. Osamu enters the room, balloons trailing behind him, a big teddy bear tucked under his arm, and he definitely was your savior as he had a box of chocolate in his hands.

“My turn!” Osamu drops all things, handing you the box of chocolates before running to look at his niece.

Atsumu takes the chocolate from you, setting it far from your position, “Be careful!” Atsumu cries at Osamu when the male tries to reposition the girl.

Osamu doesn’t mind his brother’s demanding voice, but when he looks at his sibling, a small smile reaches his lips, “Did you cry?”

“No!” Atsumu stammers, “I’m just tired.” Hands cover his face, sudden insecurity over how he looked. 

The uncle admires his niece, “Does she have a name yet?” 

You grin, looking at Atsumu who’s too busy trying to wipe away the redness in his eyes, “Miya Ayumi.” Though his back to you, Atsumu freezes, “I thought it was fitting, after all, he is her father. I want her to grow up having a part of him.” 

The closer they reached your apartment building, the more anxious Atsumu got. He got himself settled next to the car seat, insisting that the mother should ride in the passenger seat just because. But as you peek a look into the back, Atsumu has his arm draped over the edge of the car seat, head positioned on his arm as he watched her exhale and inhale slowly. Osamu watched through the rearview mirror, his brother was stupidly love struck.

“Thanks for getting me settled.” You have Osamu standing in the kitchen, he’s gathering his things to leave; even taking the time to grab Atsumu’s stuff.

“It’s what family is for. My parents might drop by over the weekend, they’re so excited to see their first grandchild. Tsumu!” Osamu calls, “Let’s go.”

Atsumu pokes his head out from the baby’s bedroom, “Wait! Just wait!”

You both walk towards the room, the sight of Atsumu peering down the crib, “Atsumu.” Your voice makes his head turn, he’s glossy eyed, “Do you want to spend the night?”

“Can I?” His voice is meek.

After what seemed like hours that he was in there, he emerged from the room. Silent and pondering as you poured the soup into the bowl; setting it in front of him when he sits at the dining table.

“It was nice of you to come by my house to throw everything out and restock it with chicken soup.” Your laughing as you take a seat across from him.

He doesn’t laugh. His heart weighing him down when he stares into the bowl. He’s sniffling.

“How long are you going to cry?” Your urging a glass of water to him.

Atsumu’s voice is shaking, a hand to wipe the fallen tears and snot, “I’m sorry.” He feels his heart clenching, “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. For making you suffer those nineteen hours, for what he lacks as a father, or for his daughter who was born with a coward of a father. 

The air thickens, the boy in front of you suddenly so sad and scared. As he took a spoonful of soup, he continued to cry. The wailing of his daughter suddenly making him stand, not a care in the world that soup drips from his mouth.

“Atsumu.” You press a hand to his shoulder and he relaxes. For the first time in almost two days, he’s relaxing, “She’s probably hungry. I’ll take care of her, why don’t you get some rest.”

Atsumu couldn’t rest well, in the first year of his daughter’s birth, he was clouded with her. His phone filled with photos of her, only her. His precious girl. Her smile, her laugh, her babbling to him, her sleeping. He was even practicing words with her.

“Daddy. Ayumi, say daddy.” Atsumu repeated with her in his hands, she stood on her two feet; sometimes barely holding it on her own. She giggled profoundly at the way her father’s lips moved, “Can you say that? Say Daddy.”

“No Ayumi!” Osamu pushed his head against his brother’s, trying to insert himself into the conversation, “Say Samu. Uncle Samu!”

“Alright!” Your hands are on your hips as you stare at the mess, “Why don’t we say, clean this up.” Ayumi reaches out to you, she’s rested on your hip; fingers playing with your hair, “Should we go eat?” She cackles the way your face lights up with every word.

Begrudgingly, the men clean the mess.

“Why did you buy so much stuff Tsumu!”

“Says the person who came in here today with a cart full of new toys.” Atsumu pushes against his brother to throw him off his balance.

The two females watch from the kitchen as the brawl continues. She jumps, hands waving in the air with laughter. You secretly hoped she wasn’t going to grow up as physically dominant as her father.

“Okay, bye.” Even as the words left his mouth, he still held her hand.

“Daddy!” She laughed.

Atsumu bent down to her eye level, “Yes. Should we go home instead?!”

Your hand collides with the back of his head, “Don’t you dare.”

Much to his dismay, she pushes his hand off. The teacher smiling as she grasps her hand. Atsumu feels like his world is leaving him. But then she turns, letting go of the teacher’s hand to run to her father. Atsumu hugs her so tight, for a little tiny thing, she had become so strong over six years. She’s pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye daddy.”

“Bye baby.”

She’s scampering off into the classroom. Atsumu commends how independent his daughter was; just like her mother taught her to be. 

He’s standing to his feet, you admire the way he isn’t crying this time. But you’re suddenly struck with what the past six years have brought you. Sometimes you wondered if a changed man would describe Atsumu well. He still went out, sought out his own pleasures but at the same time he was conscious; fully aware of the world around him.

“So Mr. Miya, what are you going to do now.” It was the first time in forever you’ve decided to day drink. It tasted sweeter than you imagined, “She’s in school now, are you finally going to find a girl to settle down with.” You place the wine glass down, your eyes gaze the primarily empty bar; a few girls lingering were already eyeing the male next to you.

“Settle down?” Atsumu chuckles, “Like I said on our first date, I ain’t getting married.”

“I also recall you saying you weren’t going to have kids.” You’re teasing him.

He grins, “Okay, so I was wrong about one thing.” Atsumu places the drink on the coaster, “I’m settled down already aren’t I?” His fingers tap against the counter, he eyes the tip of his cup.

You tap your chin, “Let’s see; a job you love, a daughter who’s the biggest daddy’s girl, always home by eight and even spends weekends with his family. My, I never thought it would come true.”

“But no wife.” He points at you.

“No wife.” You nod, “Really?”

Atsumu affirms, “There’s only one girl I need in my life.” Atsumu silly grins, “My daughter.”

You lean an elbow on the counter, “Wow, so you’re saying; I wasn’t the love of your life?” A hand over your heart, “I’m hurt. I pushed her out for you.”

Atsumu throws his head back in a laugh, “You were close.” He recalls the three months after his daughter was born, the time in which he thought he was falling in love with you, “So close. Just barely didn’t make the cut off.” 

You sip on your drink, “So what was it?” Your fingers wrap around the stem of the cup, your smile catching him off guard, “Was there something about me or us that just couldn’t get passed the marriage line?”

The silence is comfortable, perhaps it was something about being parents together that made it all the easier to talk about these things.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Atsumu taps a finger against his glass, “I’d like to believe that you are my soulmate, we work well together, we have similar mindsets, we have child together, we would do anything to get wherever we want in life; but what we want in life is different don’t you think?”

Atsumu watches you tilt your head, “I wanted to focus on my career, I just wanted cohabitation, you wanted to focus on your career, but you wanted marriage. I think that’s what was wrong with us. Our daughter, she was a gift telling us to stay together. After all, we’re soulmates.”

“Okay weirdo.” You continue to ponder his thoughts as you sip your drink, “Soulmates, but not lovers. Interesting thought.”

“So what about you?” Atsumu breaks your chain of thought, “Gonna get back out there soon? Find yourself a man?”

You tilt your head, your lips trying to suppress the smile as you bit your lower lip, “I don’t know.”

“Ooh.” Atsumu coos, “Someone’s got a crush!”

“Oh, shut up!” The wine runs down your throat.

Atsumu giggles like a schoolgirl, “Tell me, is he pretty? Does he have the most dashing eyes?”

You knock his arm, “Just for that, I’m going to make sure our daughter gets a boyfriend.”

He screams, “You wouldn’t dare!” Laughs fall between the two, Atsumu sighs, “Well, I hope one day I’ll get to meet the guy and see if he’s worthy of being my daughter’s step-dad.” Atsumu pours the rest of the drink into his mouth, “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a really cute girl who needs my attention.”

In less than ten minutes you’re watching him throw you a peace sign, tongue sticking out as he leaves with the girl in question. A laugh of air leaves your mouth, after all, he was still part of the same Atsumu from years ago.

Atsumu liked to coin himself a simple man. He only needed three things in his life: his daughter, himself, and volleyball.

[atths--twice]

And now... for the last chapter... 

The Ninth Month 6i/6

Chapter Nine 

Heading Home 

Mulder and Scully are heading home with their little girl. Time for the Unremarkable House to become remarkable.

November 2nd- mid morning

“Okay, do we have everything?” Mulder asked as they began to load up to head home.

He looked again in the backpack. There was the black beanie stuffed cat from Elise that she had brought when she checked on Scully, along with a picture from Raina. A drawing of a little baby with arms coming from her head.

He saw the necklace from Skinner. Scully had told him about it and he felt a wave of thankfulness to still have him in their lives.

There were a couple of hospital blankets that he knew he was not technically supposed to take, but he wanted them for the memory. To keep and connect it to the first time he held his little squatch.

Scully was not crazy for that nickname. He told her it was her fault for packing the Sasquatch blanket. He had sat on the couch holding Faith, that blanket covering her, the first time he called her Squatchy. Scully had scoffed but the name had stuck.

He saw the beautiful cards Karla and Jill had given them. There were also the items they had packed to come to the hospital. All the outfits except for the one Faith was wearing.

It was a black onesie with green and grey alien faces on it, as well as flying saucers. It had even come with a little cap with alien eyes on it. Scully had requested it and he had thanked her with a big kiss.

He double checked the bathroom and all around the room. Scully was properly dressed for the first time in a couple days. She was going home with a lot of stuff: a plastic basin, a squeeze bottle to use in the bathroom, a big cup she had been drinking out of obsessively along with a few other things. They also had a huge stack of paperwork to take home and file.

It felt as though they had signed more paperwork than they had ever done at work. The best of all the paperwork though, was signing the birth certificate.

Scully had to fill it out as they were not married yet. She had wanted to wait and get married when she was not “as big as a pregnant blue whale.”

Watching her put down the baby’s name, her whole name, made him grin. Faith Katherine Mulder, his little Squatchy. He had signed his name with hers and it was official in all aspects. He kissed Scully and then the baby, his love for both of them filling his heart.

The pediatrician had been in to check on Faith and Elise had come in to check Scully once more before they were to leave. Good bill of health was given for both and now they were just waiting for the discharge papers.

The bags were ready and the car seat was on the couch. Scully was sitting on the bed holding the baby. They would not put her in the car seat until they were ready to go.

As much as he knew they were going to be on their own after they left the hospital, he was anxious to leave. Being in the same room, with people coming in and out at all hours, was wearing on his nerves. He wanted to get home, sleep in his own bed, and be able to have Scully by him as he did.

The door opened and Jill came in the room. She smiled at them with a folder in her hand.

“These are all your discharge papers. I put them in this folder for you. You will have a checkup with your doctor in six weeks unless something changes. The baby will see the pediatrician in a few days to be sure she’s getting enough to eat and gaining as she should,” Jill said to Scully, while handing Mulder the discharge folder. He added it to their backpack.

“I have an orderly on his way with a wheelchair and then you three are good to go,” she smiled at them. “I have enjoyed meeting you both. That little girl is adorable, take good care of her.”

They both thanked her and the door opened. The orderly pushed the wheelchair into the room. Mulder walked over to Scully and took Faith from her. Jill helped Scully off the bed and she lightly groaned. She stood still for a minute and then walked to the wheelchair.

Mulder put the baby in the car seat, only fumbling with the straps once. He covered her with a soft blanket and then he picked up the car seat and turned to Scully. The orderly had hung the backpack on the wheelchair and slung the bag over an arm. He grinned at Mulder and nodded at the baby.

“You just worry about that little one, sir,” he said, handing Scully the basin of things. “I’ve got your wife.”

Scully met his eyes and they both grinned. No reason to correct him.

He made sure the baby was covered and then stepped behind the orderly to follow them out. Jill held the door and Mulder thanked her for everything as they passed by. She squeezed his forearm and nodded.

Mulder followed them down the hall, his eyes staying mostly on the little girl in the car seat. What a difference walking out as opposed to walking in the hospital. He had felt so nervous and terrified, now he felt love and a peace he could not explain.

The orderly was making Scully laugh and he was thrilled to hear it. She was on an emotional roller coaster these past few days. Sobbing one minute, happy the next, then asleep or grouchy. He knew she would be, it was just hard to see her that way, especially when she tried to brush it off.

He told Karla he had read up on what to expect, but the truth was he had done more than just reading books. He had found a chat group of fathers online and they shared their stories of new babies and what they learned about postpartum. He had asked hundreds of questions and they had all been incredibly helpful.

They had shared tips and signs to watch out for when it came to depression or emotions. He understood where they were coming from and he appreciated all they had to say. He felt he had the upper hand when it came to this instance, though. He had spent almost twenty five years hearing “I’m fine” and knowing that was not the truth. He did not have all the answers, but he knew her and he knew how to read her. They would be okay.

They arrived at the lobby and Mulder left the baby with Scully so he could get the car. The orderly was exclaiming over how cute she was and her alien cap when Mulder walked through the door.

It was a bit chilly out and he zipped his jacket on the walk to the car. He wondered if they had put socks on Faith and then smiled at his dad thoughts already taking place.

He arrived at the car and kept grinning as he got in and turned on the car. He shook his head as he backed up and drove to the hospital entrance.

He got out of the car and walked back into the hospital. He took the baby and placed her car seat in the back, clicking it into the base. He pushed the handle down and again made sure she was covered. He looked at her face and smiled. God, he was already so in love with her.

The orderly pushed Scully out and Mulder helped her into the backseat next to Faith. The orderly offered to put their bags in the back of the car and Mulder accepted, making sure Scully was doing all right as she climbed in and put on her seat belt. He kissed her cheek and then softly closed the door. He thanked the orderly and he got back in the car.

“All right,” Mulder said, looking at the hospital and beginning to slowly drive away. “Mama Bear and Squatchy, you ready to roll?”

“Mulder, absolutely not,” Scully said.

“To which?” he asked, pulling onto the main road.

“I know you have Squatchy set in your mind, so I’m going to veto “Mama Bear,” she said, causing him to look back at her. She shook her head and he nodded.

“Okay, we’ll work on a name,” he said as she scoffed, and he headed to the interstate.

He felt as if giant potholes and rocks had been added to the road since they left the house. Every bump, he looked in the rear view mirror worried the baby had woken. He looked quickly both ways before he slowly proceeded through the intersections. He heard Scully laugh quietly and he glanced back at her.

“This Mulder is a far cry from the one who jumped onto a moving train. Or broke into government buildings,” she said with a smirk.

“Well, I have more important things to think about than myself these days,” he said, stopping and looking again.

“More important than your own life?” she asked skeptically.

“Way more important,” he said glancing back at her again. He reached a hand through the seats and she grasped his hand.  

Finally, they approached the road to their house. He sighed as he pulled up their driveway and parked the car. They were quiet for a second, her hand in his, as they looked out the window.

Then he felt it. Three squeezes. They were okay, they could handle it. He squeezed back and got out of the car. He took a deep breath as he walked around to her side and opened the door.

He helped her out and she stood waiting by the side of the car. He got the car seat out, checking to be sure the blanket was still covering her, before he stepped back and shut the door.

He reached for Scully’s hand and they walked toward the house. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs and onto the porch. Mulder unlocked the door and let Scully inside before following with the baby.

It was warm in the house. He set the car seat down on the floor and took off his jacket. He hung it up and reached for Scully’s. She walked over and sat on the couch, sighing as she leaned back.

He walked back to the car seat and unbuckled the straps, carefully taking Faith out. He wrapped her with the blanket and held her in his arms.

“Welcome home, my sweet girl. You’ve not experienced the place on the outside. Let me give you a tour,” he said and began to walk around the room.

He told her of the first time they walked into the house and how it felt immediately like home. How they had held each other tight and slowly danced that night, knowing they could finally stop running.  

He showed her the I Want To Believe poster. He told her how important it had been to him and to her mom over the years. It was a symbol of their quest and what drove them to be who they were.

He took her by the stairs and told her how much her mother enjoyed them.

“Mulder!” Scully cried from couch.

“What?” he asked, turning toward her with a surprised look.

“Don’t talk to her about how I “enjoyed the stairs.” She’s a baby, but she still doesn’t need to hear about that,” she said, shaking her head.

“Scully, I was referring to the color and the structure of the stairs. Also, the sound they make as you walk on them. You told me many times you like the creak of old stairs,” he said innocently. “Get your mind out of the gutter, woman.”

He shook his head dramatically and turned back to his tour. “But she enjoyed them for other reasons, too,” he said, in a staged whisper.

“Mulder,” she said warningly.

He laughed and continued on, telling her about their first Christmas here and how her mom had bought a tiny little “Charlie Brown” tree. They had decorated it with a small amount of hodgepodge decorations she had found on a last minute shopping trip. It had been his favorite Christmas because it was the first one in the home they lived in together, just them.

Scully got off the couch and came over to them. She held his elbow and put one on his waist. He looked at her and the memory of the last time they stood this way with a new baby between demanded his attention.

The way she looked at him, he knew she was thinking of it too. The tears in her eyes confirmed his thoughts. She looked in his eyes and the love she felt for him radiated from them.

“One day, Scully,” he whispered. “One day he’ll be back. He’ll find us again.”

She nodded and her eyes spilled over. He bent his head and kissed her softly. The old memory and the new meeting in the middle creating a joint memory. Two moments bound together by the two who created them.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. Slowly, and without planning, they began to softly rock back and forth. Mulder began to quietly hum the song he did on that first night in this new home as she held on a little tighter to him.

There they stood and slowly swayed. In the middle of their living room, in the middle of their lives, with their daughter in the middle of them. He smiled at the thought. If this was the middle, the ending was going to be amazing.

_________________________________________________

Wow! So this was a journey I never expected to take, but I have enjoyed it. Going through the months has been very fun. I have loved this little peek into their lives, of what they could be like in their little home.

I’m sure you all now know that this is not the end of the story and I check in on them from time to time. I need to see Mulder dancing in the kitchen with his girls. Scully watching her girl take her first steps. Mulder falling asleep with his daughter on his chest. Scully and Faith giving Mulder “the look” simultaneously causing his eyes to widen before he bursts out laughing.

Yeah.. this story is not over. <3 The next one will be posted tomorrow. 

Oh, and I know that is a picture is of William, but it fits here for sure. : )

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 5: Connected

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

Support me on kofi

No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

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Harlowe looks to her left, over to the driver seat. Calum tugs on the blue baseball cap, readjusting it on his head. The traffic isn’t light, though it’s not as bad as they imagined. Harlowe can see the tension in his jaw. She sighs, reaching out for his knee. The kids are so excited to be going down to Disneyland, as they always are. The flight was good for most of them. Nikau was content to sit in either her or Calum’s lap. Esha and Te Koha slept for a lot of it, and the portion that they were awake for they were overflowing with energy. Harlowe could tell something was going with Calum halfway through the flight. He said it was only a small headache, but it was a lot more. She even said that she’d drive; she had rested longer than him on the plane ride. Calum told her he could handle it. 

At the contact of her hand, he looks over, still pressing the brakes as they are caught in small stand still. Esha and Koha are huddled over one of their portable gaming stations. Te Koha is trying to help her beat a stage boss. Nikau is fast asleep in his carseat.

“Take the next food exit, we’ll grab the kids some breakfast and I’ll take over,” she offers to her husband. 

Calum closes his eyes for a second before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

“Also you’re taking an Advil too. I’m not sure why you refused it on the plane. But you’re going to get around it now.”

Though there’s tension all along his neck, shoulders, and the base of his skull, he chuckles. The brake lights disappear from the cars in front of them. They travel for a couple more miles before Calum sees an exit with gas stations, and some fast food place. 

“This isn’t Disneyland,” Esha states as the car stops in front Hardee’s. 

“Making a small pit stop, baby girl. Hungry?”

“Starving,” Te Koha replies to his mother, laughing. They all unbuckle. Harlowe hands her purse to Calum, with a stern gaze. He finds the small plastic bag in her zipper pocket while she unfastens Nikau, helping him out. Esha steps out of the truck followed by the eldest. The five of them huddle into the restaurant. Harlowe wrangles the kids, figuring what each child wants and then orders two of her order for Calum. 

Calum steps into the bathroom for a second, closing his eyes to try and relieve some pressure from his skull. He didn’t sleep much the night before the flight, nor did he sleep much on it, too tense and too worried that his plan could fall through at any second. He was elated that the kids mostly slept through the flight. Te Koha can keep a secret; Esha cannot. She’s vital to this plan, but if she says the wrong thing too soon, things won’t work out-- not like he had hoped though. 

 He stretches his shoulders, praying at something, anything will do the trick and give him some relief and it does. However, the second he lifts his hand, the pounding in the base of his skill resumes. He groans, but exits the bathroom and sees Harlowe balancing one tray with Nikau on her hip. Te Koha is holding the second one. “I think this one is mine,” Calum teases, sliding the tray from Harlowe’s hand. 

“Why thank you, my good sir. Now if only I could get this baby off my hip who’s very upset to be awake right now, I think we’d be golden,” Harlowe coos, rubbing Nik’s back. 

“I am not a wizard,” Calum returns, kissing her forehead as they settle into a booth. 

“Just my luck, a princess that falls in love with the frog.”

“Daddy’s more a prince charming, Momma,” Esha states with an eye roll. She unwraps her sandwich after rubbing the hand sanitizer thoroughly. 

“Maybe more like Kristoff,” Koha ponders. 

“So no one’s going to say Maui; I’m hurt.” Calum fakes like he’s leaving the booth. Esha grabs his arm, pulling with all her strength. Calum leans back into her gently, spreading his arms out, dramatically huffing. 

She giggles, pushing at him. “Alright Dad, no need to be that dramatic.”

Sitting up, Calum kisses the top of her head, patting Koha on his shoulder. Though it hurts to laugh, he bears through it. It’s worth it, seeing his kids smile and laugh. Especially Te Koha, even if it’s just a small chuckle--Calum will take that over the gloom that had settled behind his boys eyes. Since starting Year Ten, he’s withdrawn a little. Calum prays this trip gives him the much needed rest and a chance to feel like he can open up. Harlowe’s tried talking to him, but Koha usually shrugs, says it nothing. His parents know it’s not nothing. It can’t be nothing with the way he drags out of bed. Not with the way he doesn’t like talking about school, barely wants to stay back for lacrosse practice. Te Koha’ has always been a fairly quiet child, but not this quiet. 

Calum looks over to Harlowe. They are sharing the same thought, the same concern. What is happening with their son? Calum doesn’t want to bring this conversation up right now, not in front of Esha. The two of them are so loving towards each other, but Calum wants to pull his son aside, talk to him in private, just in case it’s too personal. Harlowe doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s forcing or pushing him to talk-- so she keeps quiet-- but prays Koha knows that she’s always there for him. It takes all her strength not to reach across the table and pull Te Koha into her lap, it takes every ounce of willpower not to rock him like she used to do when he was a baby. If only a hug could fix it, she would’ve healed his ache long ago. 

“Babe?” Calum questions, sliding his hand over hers. 

Harlowe glances up from her sandwich, blinking back tears. She hadn’t even realized that she was tearing up, body somehow so lost in her thoughts that the sting never registered, that they blur to her vision hadn’t clicked as her warning. “I’m okay,” she says softly, wiping her nose. 

“Momma?” Nikau questions, holding a round hashbrown out to her. 

Harlowe shakes her head, smiling, “No, eat Nikau. Momma’s okay.”

He continues to hold it out, “Eat.”

“I have my own food, baby.” When Nikau doesn’t retreat with the hashbrown, she bends down, taking hold of it and pressing kisses into his chubby cheeks. “Thank you, bub.”

 Nikau watches her, to make sure she doesn’t sneak it back in front of him. “Welcome,” he smiles--a spitting image of Calum’s. 

“Have you taken your meds?” Calum asks, wrapping his fingers tight around her palm. She nods, her eyes don’t fall to his cheeks. She’s telling the truth. Calum studies her face and watches as her eyes fall to his side of the booth, towards Te Koha. He understands now and nods, rubbing his thumb over her hand. 

Finished with their breakfast, everyone piles back into the rental car, Harlowe in the driverseat. She double checks everyone is buckled, then single Calum’s out. “If I don’t hear snores from you on the rest of this drive, we fighting. I’m pulling over and it’s going to be over for you.”

Calum puts his hands up. “It’s lights out o’clock,” he grins. The tension has faded somewhat, thanks to the water and some food. He can still feel a dull ache. The meds are slowly kicking in for him. Sleep might help; he knows at the very least to try to and sleep after Harlowe’s warning. Even though there’s only about half an hour left in the drive, it’s better than nothing. Reclining his head against the headrest, Calum pulls the hat down even more, to block out the rising sun from his eyes. 

Harlowe gets back onto the highway, noticing some morning traffic up ahead of her. It’s thinning out though, which she appreciates it. Rolling down the pavement, Harlowe nods a long to the song playing from the radio. The back of the truck is too quiet. “Y’all mighty quiet back there,” she teases, glancing back for a second. Not even Nikau is talking. 

“Boss, Ma,” Te Koha responds. 

Harlowe nods with a hum. “Kick their butt,” she laughs. “Go for the kneecaps.”

Esha chuckles. “I wish. But thanks Momma.”

“Anytime, baby girl.”

Esha release a groan, the sounds of furious tapping bleeding in as the song changes on the radio. Te Koha starts talking to Nikau, playing with him before Esha speaks up,  “Ugh, can you do it Koha? My fingers are dumb.”

“You almost got it though.”

“Please?”

“One more try and if you die then, I’ll do it for you,” he concedes. Esha’s whine is cut off by Calum’s snore. Harlowe smiles, pleased at the sound. Esha’s tapping cuts in and out of of the songs and snores. After a few more minutes, cheering starts up. 

Harlowe’s not sure what happening, but she lets out a small, “Whoop whoop” before asking, “Now what are we celebrating? Did you beat the boss, Esha?” Nikau claps, giggling with excitement at the sudden uproar in the car. 

“Yeah, I did,” she cheers a little too loudly and slaps her hands over her mouth. Calum snaps awake. Esha sees his wide-eyed stare. Koha laughs from next to her. “Sorry, Dad,” she whispers. “I just beat the boss. Go back to sleep.”

He nods, before settling back down in the passenger seat. Harlowe, having pressed her lips together, releases her laugh in a short snorts. When she glances back from the rearview mirror to the backseat, Esha’s embarrassment is still clear on her face.  It’s a good thing Calum can fall asleep anywhere and in three seconds flat. Though now after kids, he does wake easily. Harlowe can’t blink in bed without waking Calum some nights. 

The car is silent for another minute or so. “Why do we always go to Disneyland?” Esha whispers. 

“We don’t always go to Disneyland,” Harlowe replies. They do go very often, she’ll admit. But it feels extremely important to go this year after Nikau. They didn’t go the first two years after his birth just because of the flight was so long. His done well on other ones, though they were much shorter. Harlowe and Calum have a special connection to the theme park. It might seem childish, but she loves these trips. 

“We come here a lot,” Te Koha interjects. 

“Papa Bear and I had our honeymoon here,” Harlowe answers, switching lanes before continuing her thought. “I got pregnant with Te Koha before we even got engaged. It wasn’t almost until I was about to deliver that he asked me to marry him. He said, he had been planning to ask months before we even found out. He was just afraid that the kid would make me run off. He didn’t want to ask and then make a fool out of himself. Mind you, I was the one that asked if I could move in with him. That way, he could be as close with his baby as he could be before touring and being a rockstar made him leave. He was so happy to be a father, talked about it every chance he could. Though he wanted to move back to Sydney, he couldn’t do so right away. 

“No this wasn’t my ideal situation, but I was more than happy to start a family. Calum proposed while in the middle of moving me out of my apartment. He was sweaty from lifting and going up and down the stairs. But he had disappeared with some boxes to put into the moving truck for far too long. So when he came back, I could see something in his pocket. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“It was the ring?” Esha questions. 

She nods. “Yeah, I turned around, to point out what stuff was going into the garbage, and what stuff was the last of my things to move. When I turned back around, he was on one knee, holding the box open.”

“Do you remember what he said?” Te Koha asks, looking over to his dad, baseball cap partially covering his face again. He’s always seen his dad as a quiet person, never too emotional, but funny and caring.

“I remember,” Harlowe answers softly. Te Koha has always wondered what Calum was thinking feeling when asking that question. He knows what his dad’s surprise is for his mom, knows how worried he was about everything going off perfectly. To see Calum that worried about something for his mom made Te Koha see how much love is there. Even though they tease each other and the entire family is made up on a lot of sass, there’s so much love. 

“What did he say?”

“Well, one he was a firehose of tears, but he said, ‘I’ve thought about how to ask you this question for months. I’ve kicked myself for not asking sooner. But I love you, I love you and that child you’re growing. I know I said I will always be there, always do whatever you needed me to do. I want to be selfish, I want to do this for me. I want to ask you to be my wife, because I want that honor and no one else. I want my family to be complete, and there’s no one better to complete it with and no better way to complete it than asking, Will marry me, giving me the honor to call you my wife?’” This time the tears are clear to Harlowe as they start. She makes the right turn, onto their exit. She inhales deeply at the memory as it washes over her. 

“Dad’s such a softie,” Esha giggles. “That’s so cute.”

“I’m in the wedding photos though,” Koha probes, needing more details. “I don’t remember it really, but I’ve seen the photos.”

“We didn’t get married until you were about three. I wasn’t in a rush to get married. We had our hands full with you. I couldn’t even think about planning a wedding. The band was releasing a new album about a year after you were born, so I went on the road with them for a few months with you. I thought about just going to a courthouse in one of the cities. But the schedule didn’t really work and Papa Bear was very much against it.”

“I surely was,” Calum states through a sigh. He stretches, a yawn interrupting his next sentence before it can leave his lips. “We had a kid before we even being engaged. I was going to give her the wedding she deserved.”

“But we both agreed on taking a family trip to Disneyland. That was our honeymoon. Even if we did honeymoon with all of Papa Bear’s family, it was a great time. Everything I could imagine,” Harlowe bites her lip, remembering the two days that Joy took Te Koha leaving them to some much needed alone time. 

Calum knows what she’s thinking about and rests his hand on her thigh. High enough to give a hint, but not too high that the kids will say anything. “The wedding was worth the wait right though?” he asks, squeezing Harlowe’s thigh. 

“It was. You did a Haka with your family and Te Koha and I damn near cried.”

“You did cry,” Calum corrects. 

“Ssh, no I didn’t. I got an eyelash in my eye.

“Both of them? At the same time?”

Harlowe pouts, knowing she did very well cry watching Calum and his family members. She swore for a second there, she saw spirits floating above them too while they danced. Calum hasn’t done one since, so she can’t say for sure what she saw or if it was the tears. But watching him made her insides light with a fire. Mali and Joy stood with her, watching as well. Mali was animated, return gestures and faces. Joy held Harlowe’s arm, tears streaming silently down her face. Harlowe was stunned, teary eyed but filled with an eagerness to join in. 

By the end, Joy released her, sensing how badly Harlowe wanted to acknowledge the traditional cry. Mali taught her--it was rushed and not perfect but the two of them chanted and cried back at the group of men. It was seeing the light in Te Koha’s eyes as he danced with his father that got Harlowe, made her want to show her son it’s okay to be proud. That it’s okay to look a little different and still love your roots. Though sometimes Harlowe shouted back in her Native tongue, it was in that atmosphere, amongst spirits of ancestors that the language barrier did not exist. It was the act of souls touching souls--the same tongue was not needed. 

Harlowe pulls into the resort parking lot, wiping her face with her shirt. “I’m turning into the firehose of tears now, shoot.”

After checking in, Harlowe agrees to take the kids down to the pool. Te Koha and Esha head to their rooms to change. Nikau grabs onto Calum. “Do you want to swim, Nikau?” He shakes his head, tugging again at Calum. 

“Aww, buddy, Daddy’s here,” Calum chuckles, picking him up. 

“How’s your head?” she asks Calum. 

“Better, sleep helped. I’ll take Nik for some exploring--just walk around. We’ll meet you at the pool, okay?”

Harlowe nods, kissing her boy’s cheeks, gently nibbling with her lips. He laughs, “Stop, Momma.”

Harlowe ceases, stroking his hair. “Momma loves you.”

“Wove you too.” 

Harlowe changes, taking the two kids down the pool. Calum waits until the door clicks shut before pulling his phone out. There are several texts and phone calls. Calum stands Nikau on the counter top, grinning as the boys dances a little to the ringing tone. 

“Think Momma’s going to like her surprise?” Cal asks his baby boy. 

Nikau nods. “Yes.” 

It takes about twenty minutes to touch base with everyone. Calum packs a little bag with water and some snacks and a change of clothes before setting out on their adventure. Nikau happily trots alongside his dad, pausing only whenever a bug flies by and watching it intensely. Calum only gets stopped once by some fans who ask for pictures. Nikau smiles, and waves at them from his father’s arms. Once they are free from fans, the walks continues and Calum snaps a few pictures of Nikau intently exploring the earth around him. Once the last text comes in that they’ve arrived safely to the resort, Calum heads to the pool. He’ll take them off the resort for dinner, so Harlowe won’t run into anyone before tomorrow. 

At the pool, Calum spots her easily, reclining on the sun lounger, brown skin glistening, proudly wearing a two piece even with the stretch marks from three kids. Calum stands over her, blocking the sun from her way. Nikau attempts to climb up into the seat. So Calum places him next to her. “I was kind of soaking that up,” she retorts, sitting up and settling Nik between her legs. 

“You should be watching the kids,” he laughs. 

She pushes up her glasses, nodding in their direction. “I’m watching them just fine.”

“Momma, look,” Nikau holds up tiny purple blossom. 

“Oh, it’s so pretty, baby boy. Did you find it on your walk?”

He nods. “Yes. Daddy pick it for me.”

“By the time I noticed what he was doing, I just plucked it,” Calum laughs with a shrug. 

Carefully, Harlowe picks up the blossom and notices there’s a small bit of the stem left. “Do you want it in your hair? Or do you just want to hold it?” she asks. 

“Hair,” Nikau replies, pointing to his head. Harlowe nods, reaching into her bag. A clip in her hand and she carefully places it in his hair. It’s a very small blossom, so it won’t be too heavy for the clip. 

Calum looks out to the pool, Esha and Te Koha having a small splash war before he tries to swim away. Esha chases after him. “I think Papa Bear should’ve gotten a flower too. You two could’ve been twins,” Harlowe teases. Calum turns back to her, heart hammering a little. God, even after all these years, Calum still finds himself so stunned by her beauty. He stretches over, kissing her softly. He can’t wait to see her face tomorrow. 

__

“Where are we going again?” Harlowe asks sliding into the cork wedges. Calum insisted that she pack a white dress. She wasn’t sure why initially but didn’t question it too much. She thought it might be a for a themed dinner. But now the day of, she’s not sure that’s it. It was well after park hours. The kids aren’t wearing white, thankfully, because Nikau is notorious for falling and getting grass stains all over himself. He’s dressed in black dress pants and a cute green polo. 

“It’s a show,” Calum explains, leaving the first few buttons of his shirt undone and letting the black tank underneath peek through the navy striped button up. He watches her in the mirror, debating which jewelry to wear. She slides on some gold bangles but leaves it at that. 

“Momma! I need help!” Esha shouts. 

“What’s up?” she calls back, scurrying out of their room towards Esha’s cry for help.

“Zipper,” is the answer. Calum dabs on some cologne, pulling a face in the mirror as Nikau watches from the bed. The baby laughs, falling backwards in his fit of giggles at his father’s wide eyes and pouty lipped expression. 

Calum turns around, tickling the boy. “Silly boy,” he laughs, picking him up and setting him to the floor. Te Koha walks into the room, knocking softly on the open door. “What’s up?”

Koha holds out the velvet black box. “Figured I’d hand that over now while Mom’s busy.”

“Thank you, for helping me a lot. I really appreciate it, Koha.”

He shrugs. “No problem, Dad.” There’s something in the way he stands, Calum notices. He looks to the floor. 

Calum pockets the box. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right, son?” 

Koha nods, picking at his fingernails his gaze is still settled on the carpet. Cal knows better than to push this. He lets the silence linger. Te Koha finally looks up to his dad, noticing the careful slight downturn to his brows. It’s the concern, the want to ask, the need to help, but a fear to push too much. Koha exhales deeply. “Can we talk? Like after the ceremony and everything?”

“Of course we can.”

“Cool, thanks Dad. For being there.” 

“I’ll always be there,” Calum states, gently pulling Koha into his side and hugging him. Koha’s just about staring him eye to eye. It’s terrifying how tall he’s getting. But it’s to be expected. Calum runs a hand over the current hairstyle, a boxtop. “You actually use that oil Mum recommended?”

Koha huffs with a smile, patting down the afro. “Yeah, I did, Dad. I gotta look good for the girls.” He pauses for a moment. 

Calum notices. There’s something else on his lips that he dares not let fall. Calum laughs, slinging his arm around Koha’s shoulders. “Whatever gets you to take care of your hair and shower is fine be me.”

Esha and Harlowe emerge soon after, ready to go. Calum’s already got Harlowe’s purse and the backpack for Nikau with some coloring stuff and a spare change of clothes just in case an accident happens. Though it’s not likely. It’s as the limousine waits in front of the resort that Harlowe suspects for sure that it’s not a show like Calum is trying to pass off. They slide into the back of the car, door clicking close by the driver. 

“What did you do?” Harlowe narrows her gaze at Calum. 

He shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What have you done?” she asks again. Calum shakes his head. She turns to Koha. 

He holds his hands up. “I was only told to get dressed for dinner. I don’t know anything.” She sighs. Of course he’d be a hard one to crack. Too calm under pressure. Harlowe looks to Esha. She’ll give it up. 

“Mom, I may or may not know what’s happening. But if I tell, it’s my life. I like living.”

Harlowe sighs, dropping her head for a second. “Calum you’ve done something and have roped our kids into it. I’ll never know how you managed to keep Esha quiet, but whatever it is, it’s good. Too good.”

Readjusting his hold on Nik, Calum bends down kissing her temple. “It’s just a show and dinner.”

“With a limousine? Baby, I wasn’t born at night, let alone last night.” The drive in a battle of Harlowe hurling questions to get a hint to the truth and Calum batting them down. He’s too damn good at this, at this calmness on top of a lot of panic. With a playful wag of her fist, Harlowe resigns to the drive with no clues. The car tops and from the windows, she can see pink and purple lights. 

The sight catches her breathe in her throat. The door opens and the Sleeping Beauty Castle stares down at her light up in a beautiful purple. Esha and Koka climb out first. Koha takes Nikau as he climbs out and they wait for their parents to exit the car. Esha laughs as her mother’s sobs start up. “Calum, no, you didn’t,” Harlowe cries, climbing at of the car thanks to his help. 

Esha slides her mother some tissue and they lead the way. Harlowe clings to Calum’s arm, whispering over and over, that it’s in his best interest to tell her what is happening. She is a mess though and know the threats are empty, hollow even before she can utter them. They walk through the park, attendants, smiling hard at them. They lead them to the front of the castle. Harlowe sees a crowd already waiting. Her family and his in the crowd. 

They stand in the presence of Calum and Harlowe. Mali hands her a bouquet and note cards. “You’re a mess,” she teases, dabbing under her eyes. 

“Mali, thank you. I can’t stop the tears. You know how I get.”

Fanning her face, Mali clears away some of the mascara that started to run down her face. “It’s alright. It’s why I’m here.” They hug quickly and Mali ducks back to her seat. 

Harlowe glances down to the cards in her hand, they’re her original vows. She gasps turning to Calum who’s still holding onto her arm. “No you didn’t,” she laughs, lightly hitting his chest with the notecards. They talked about renewing vows, but the way Calum asked questions, she always thought it would later. She was okay with that, okay with waiting. But she knew she should’ve listened to her gut when he started asking what she wanted to her new band to look like, what she wanted to put on his new one. All those months ago--that was her warning to what was to come. She thought herself crazy, it seemed suspicious, but harmless enough. 

Calum grins, grabbing onto her free hand. “You’re not a princess anymore. You’re a queen. But I figured you’d appreciate the Disneyland magic for our vow renewal.”

“I love you,” she whispers, kissing him sweetly before they walk down the aisle. Koha stands next to Esha, holding a black folder in his hands. Harlowe looks around to see the grandparents huddled together with Nikau. He waves at his parents as they pass. It’s a moment before Harlowe recognizes the song playing, Work Song, by Hozier as they proceed. 

At the end of the aisle, Harlowe and Calum face each other. Esha holds the bouquet. Koha starts, reading a small speech about his parents love and watching the two of them uplift each other even when things seemed dark. “I wish them many more happy years together. Dad’s been a rock for Mom in her trying times. Mom’s the glue when Dad’s ducktape jobs don’t always work. But they always put us first, and each other above themselves. If that’s not love, I don’t know what else is,” Koha concludes. 

Esha reads next. “I know I haven’t been alive very long. A point Momma likes to make a lot. But even in my eleven years I have watched my parents grow. I have watched them make mistakes, and learn from them. I have watched them roll with the punches. I have watched them to constantly make it through. I have watched them love each other and me, Te Koha and Nikau unconditionally. Mom, I know it’s still hard to let people help you. I know you want to be strong and do it all yourself. You don’t have to. We are here. Dad is here for you. We love you. Thank you for letting Dad help you. Thank you for choosing to love him every day, thanks for loving us. Dad, I know you’re going to have choice words for me bringing this up, but, I am my mother’s daughter.” Calum laughs, with a shake of his head. “Dad, thank you for letting Mom into your life. Thank you for loving her. Thank you for letting her crack you open. Without her, we wouldn’t be here. But don’t think all the work is done. She makes a choice and so do you. Make sure you’re choosing her. We know you choose family every second of every day, but Mom’s, well she was there first, don’t forget to choose her as your wife, not just our mother. You’re going so far. I want a love like yours. Thank you for setting a good example for me.”

Harlowe’s eyes start to swim again with tears at the speeches. Sometimes, she really can’t stop the tears, her eyes become a leaky faucet. Koha turns it over to Calum to recite his vows. “Esha’s a little too on the nose with her speech. I suspect someone read my vows,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow at her. “But, Harlowe, we’ve seen nearly twenty years together. It is by no mistake that I asked you to marry me in the middle of your empty apartment. I promise to be there. I promise to choose you, to choose us, to choose our family. I was wrong then to think it would be an honor to have you call yourself my wife. The real honor is that I get call myself your husband, to have been there for every poem you’ve written, to have gone to the readings I could, to crash your lectures, to watch you grow three beautiful children, to see you raise three amazing people and I get to be right at your side. I will be there for the next twenty years and the next twenty after that and the next fifty after that. I will be there in sickness, in health, for rich or for poor, now, and tomorrow, next week and my next life.” Pulling out the new band, he switches them. “With this ring, I seal my vow to you.”

“God,” Harlowe huffs, fanning herself. “Who’s got the switch to my eyeballs? I’d like to turn them off for now, no more tears,” she laughs. Reading over the vows, she shakes her head. They won’t do. Those are eighteen years old, those are vows from a woman who is entirely different from her now, those are from someone young and naive. She’s older, wiser now. “I vowed to you eighteen years ago, to be there, to support you, to comfort you in wee morning hours, to love you. Those are old. My vows today are to curl up in bed with you at 9 pm, to answer your calls when I get the chance, to listen to you more than I hear you. My vows today to you are to help you raise three kids and not lose our sanity while we’re at it. I vow to love you everyday, to choose to love you, to put blood, sweat, and tears into loving you. I vow to be more vulnerable with you. I vow to lay up on the living room floor after we’ve run our tails off behind Nikau and let you know I still find you attractive, in more ways one. I vow to slow down for you. I vow to nag you to death, but only when you need it. I vow to learn to say yes to help more often. I vow to continue to grow with you. I vow never to be stagnant with you, to always, always grow.”

Esha hands her Calum’s new wedding band. Slipping it out of the box, she takes places the new band on. “With this ring, I seal my vow to you.”

Koha closes his folder. “So, yeah, now’s the part where you two kiss, I guess.”

Calum, with a grin on his face, slides his hand across Harlowe’s round brown cheeks, sealing his mouth over hers. They kiss slow, Harlowe sliding her fingers into the loops of his pants. As they part, she ducks her head into his chest, inhaling his scent, tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt. “I love you so much, Calum.”

“I love you too, Harlowe.”

The reception takes place at the Small World Mall in the park. Music plays, until a drum beat starts up. Harlowe knows that sound; she listens to it when she dances, when she’s homesick for a place she’s never step foot in. She watches Calum, Koha, and even Nikau walks over to the center of the dance floor. Harlowe sees Esha sliding out of her shoes and completes the tiny circle in the middle of the dance floor. Harlowe, who kicked out of her shoes, long ago, dances her way into the middle. The moves are not accurate--she knows she’s doing them wrong. But the music is transporting her, the tall drums stretched with hide make her feel at peace. 

Around the small circle of Calum, Te Koha, Esha and Nikau, her family makes a circle around them. Then a third bigger circle wraps around. And all the while, as the drum steadily rings out, people shouting in different Native tongues, Harlowe bounces on her heels in the center. She hikes the skirt of her dress in one hand, a cry ripping over her throat. She’s not sure where it comes from, who it is for, but it leaves her so loudly, with so much force, she bows. She cannot stand upright. When her eyes open, she knows it’s not tears--she knows it is spirits descending and ascending, meeting in a rainbow above her head. As soul touches soul, there is no barrier here. 

The drumming fades. Calum collects her into his arms, beads of sweat running down her forehead. The circles, rings of connected, physically break, but emotionally and mentally still remain. Harlowe rocks in Calum’s arms, voice gone from all the emotion stealing it. She cries into his chest, only a breathy, “Thank you,” tumbling from her lips. 

Harlowe excuses herself to the bathroom, sweat still rolling down her skin. Calum returns to the table, sitting down next to Koha. He immediately starts to speak. “I know I said I wanted to talk later, but I guess now feels more appropriate,” his son starts. “People are mean, and I know they always will be. But like, it hurts to hear them say stuff about you.”

Calum nods, resting his arm around Koha’s chair. “It’s always hard to hear it about yourself.”

“A lot of people ask me questions about being black and like what’s it like in America and what it means to be Māori too. I don’t mind that, but I hate it when they ask me how does it feel to be white too. Like, as if somehow that part of me erases everything else I am. As if I’m somehow not really Black and Māori too. Like I wish I could show them this, show them how real I am. But I can’t.”

Turning in the seat, Calum stares down at his son. He can’t change what makes up his son, can’t change the way he looks. “Look at me Te Koha.” Koha lifts his gaze from the center of the dancefloor to his father. “You are you; you know who you are. Changing yourself to appease them will only hurt you. What do they want? For you to be darker? Then they will ridicule you for that. If you’re lighter, they’ll tell you you are lying about who you are. They will never be satisfied. The question is are you satisfied with you. Are you happy with yourself? If you can say yes to that, then their opinions don’t matter. This is all easier said than done of course. It takes time to be happy with yourself. But you take it one step at a time. You be happy with the way your hair looks one day. Then be happy with your skin. Then be happy with your nose. Then be happy with your hair and skin. One thing at a time. All the self love that builds, they’re words won’t be able to get in.”

Koha nods. He gets what his dad is saying. But why did life always have to go for the long play? Why wasn’t there an easier solution? “That makes sense. But what do I do for now? That’s a long play; I’ve got issues right now.”

“For now, you live in this moment. You live among your people, your family, the circle of love surrounding you. That’s what you do right now.”

Koha chuckles, staring back out to the dancefloor. “I remember some of the Haka. Not all of it.”

“I’ll put in a special request for tomorrow. A crash course, your Mum will love it.”

Grinning, Koha nods up at his dad. “Thanks, Dad. I’d like that.”

“What else is family for?”

[takingcourage]

A Sixth Sense

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 2,650 

Summary: In spite of the title, there’s nothing menacing about this tale. Just a bit of fluff for my favorite royal family to help atone for what I put them through in Five O’Clock Shadow.

Author Note: I’m ashamed to say that this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since October. Thanks for all of your patience, Liam stans. 

This story follows Three Questions, 4:00 AM, and Five O’Clock Shadow. All stories can be accessed via my masterlist. 

Eliza wrung her hair, watching as the excess water streamed beneath her before swirling its way down the drain. The bathroom was full of steam -- mirrors clouded beneath the vapours that her long shower had produced. Fastening a towel around her chest, she wondered how it was possible that a simple thing like a shower was all it took to make her feel human again.

Liam had insisted that she needed the time to herself, especially since he’d be resuming his regular work schedule later that day. She’d known that the rhythm they’d adopted in the past few weeks couldn’t last, but that didn’t mean that adjusting out of it would be an easy task. Life with a newborn had been stressful, even with Liam there for much of the day. There were always people she could pass the baby off to, of course, but she knew that other engagements would force her away from her son enough. She couldn’t bear the thought of choosing to leave him.

Still, she predicted that this transition would be harder on Liam than it would on her. Aside from attending a handful of meetings, she was released from royal duties until after the christening -- still several weeks away. Liam was not so fortunate. 

He’d been given a great deal of flexibility in his schedule recently, especially in light of the unusual circumstances surrounding the prince’s birth. His assistant had managed to relax his list of obligations, making sure that, if duties called him away, it was for only a portion of the day. Their friends had helped to carry the slack as well: Olivia stepping in to complete a round of negotiations, Drake and Hana filling in for many of his weekly meetings, and Maxwell attending the opening of the tourism center in his stead. They had managed capably, but they couldn’t take his place indefinitely. The time had come.

Eliza opened the door to the bedroom, releasing the pent-up heat and moisture as she finished toweling off. Once dry, she examined the horizontal scar on her abdomen, wondering how long it would take for the redness to fade away. Her breath caught in her teeth as she massaged a layer of arnica along the incision line. Even in the residual heat of the shower, the coolness of the gel provoked a rash of goose pimples.

The scar was the most tangible reminder of just how much the birth had overthrown her expectations. Compared to the hopes she’d had for an easy delivery and recovery, she felt like the accident and resulting surgery had forced her to step into motherhood very much on the back foot. She���d spent the better part of their first week at home just reconciling herself to what had happened and trying not to let every tiny failure disappoint her. Motherhood was hard. Recovering from major surgery had only made it harder.

But it was worth it. So worth it.

Eliza knew postpartum hormones bore their fair share of the blame, but for every disappointment she’d experienced, there had been a dozen moments that she’d been overcome by happy tears, unable to keep her eyes from misting over at the thought of how fortunate she was.

Gregory was a happy, healthy baby and Liam was every bit as wonderful with him as she’d imagined. He was precisely the kind of father Eliza had dreamed of having as she tried to fill the void left behind from her own father’s death. No matter how much time Liam spent with his son, it was never enough. On a handful of occasions, she’d found him sitting in the darkened nursery, composing emails as the baby napped peacefully by his side. 

With a reflective smile, she tugged on a pair of thick leggings and a nursing tunic. A quick glance toward the clock told her that Liam was running out of time before he was expected for a conference call scheduled later that morning. Knowing exactly where to find her boys, she gathered her wet hair into a haphazard bun and ventured toward the nursery.

The lilt of Liam's voice rounded the bend before her feet had carried her past the corner, and she shook her head as she grew closer, trying to discern the tale of the day. He was always telling stories. 

“And so, Queen Kenna and her allies traveled to the land of the Technocrats, where they encountered various trials which required both skill and courage…”

Liam continued speaking after Eliza had appeared in the nursery doorway, but she lost track of his words in her desire to drink in the sight before her. Her husband was seated in the nursing chair, their month-old son nestled into the crook of his arm as he read from the book on his lap. From Eliza’s perspective, the baby didn’t seem to be gleaning much from the tale, but she had to appreciate her husband’s efforts. She leaned against the doorjamb, heart thrumming with the deepest love that she had ever known.  

This was one of those memories -- the ones she would cherish until the end of her days. They had made so many of them over the past four years, but somehow these last few weeks had produced the sweetest ones of all.

As unsettling as the birth had been, waking to find her husband beside her in the hospital room, resting skin-to-skin with their son had been enough to remove any frustration she had at being poked and prodded from sleep for the routine check of her vital signs. Under his watchful gaze, she’d hardly been aware of the nurses or the plastic monitor clipped to her finger. His presence assured her that all would be well.

She had once foolishly believed that her love for this man would reach a cap -- that it couldn’t expand forever -- but seeing him take on the role of father so naturally gave rise to an intensity of emotion she would have thought impossible.

“I think that’s where we’ll end Kenna’s story for today.”

The dull thump of the volume closing pulled Eliza out of her memories and back to the present.

“Have you been spying on us, my queen?” His voice changed from serious to teasing as he set the book back on its shelf beside the chair.

A sly smile crossed her lips and she met his sparkling eyes. She loved his banter -- especially when he used that enticing tone that she’d never been able to resist. Tempted as she was to offer a coy response, she knew that such pursuits would only end in frustration -- at least for the next two weeks. After that, she’d be free to tease him back with everything she had.

Eliza forced her wayward mind back to the present, striding purposefully into the room. “I’d prefer to think of it as admiring.”

Her son’s head turned in search of her voice, and she couldn’t stop her grin at the inquisitive face that peered out from Liam’s arms. She held out her hands to take the child, and Liam passed him to her gently.  “How long before he knows more Cordonian history than I do?”

“Perhaps I’ve been a little over-eager,” Liam admitted, standing to join his wife and child. “But it’s a rich history. I want him to take pride in what our people have done.”

Eliza settled into a sway as she rocked Gregory in her arms. “I’m sure he’ll take your lessons to heart in time, even if he sleeps through most of them now.”

As if on cue, the baby’s face contorted into a yawn. This growth spurt had been taking it out of him -- but to her great relief, he was steadily surpassing his birth weight. His checkup the day before had confirmed what she already suspected -- the prince was perfectly healthy.

“Is that a sleepy yawn or just a yawn?” she questioned, a smile in her voice as she searched her child’s expressive face. She ran a finger along his cheek, satisfied by the predictable rooting that her touch produced. The perfect bow of his mouth contracted as he pursed his lips. “It looks like this one is a hungry yawn.” She sat in the rocking chair and pulled aside the excess layer of her shirt. The child latched on eagerly.

Noting Liam’s silence, she tore her attention away from the baby. Her husband had taken her place by the door, but his eyes were trained on her. At the pensive expression on his face, Eliza was grateful that she’d resisted the urge to tease him for copying her. 

“I’m going to miss all of these quiet moments,” he divulged quietly. “I’ve not left the house for more than a few hours at a time over the past month, and I’m ashamed how easy it’s been to just forget the outside world.” He ran one hand along his jaw, stopping to rub one particularly rough spot at the edge.

“We’ve gotten pretty spoiled, haven’t we? I’ve hardly thought about Cordonia at all.” She mulled over the situation, mouth quirking at her son’s increasingly sleepy gaze. “Part of me wishes we could stay like this forever.”

“Part of me does too. Most of me, actually.”

“We'll find a new normal soon.”

“I just don't want to miss anything.” Liam crossed the room, stretching out a hand to caress the crown of Gregory's head.

Eliza pursed her lips sympathetically. “You won't. We'll come to your office for lots of visits, and we'll be here waiting for you every night." Still, she knew it wouldn't be quite the same.

“We’ll make this work, Eliza.”

“We are making this work.”

He smiled his assent, dipping his head to meet her lips in a kiss. “I love you. I have a meeting with Douglas over lunch, but I’ll be back this evening.”

“We’ll be here. I love you.” Her heart clenched again as she watched him disappear through the open doorway. For his sake, evening couldn't come soon enough.  

Shortly after midnight, Eliza woke to silence. Even though she was a deep sleeper, it wasn’t unusual for her to wake in anticipation of her son’s cries. She supposed it was a sort of intuition unique to parents. Pulling her feet to the edge of the bed, she started at the realization that the mattress was empty beside her.

When Liam returned that night, she hadn't realized just how worn he looked until she saw how he revived the moment Gregory woke from his nap. In spite of the paperwork he had to finish up, the two of them had been practically inseparable until the child went to bed. It came as little surprise to her that Liam would seek more time with him now. There had been a handful of nights in the past weeks that she would wake to feed Gregory, only to find him already drowsing in Liam’s arms, bottle empty. She suspected that might be the case tonight as well.

When she entered the nursery, however, the two of them were nowhere to be found.

She conducted a quick search of their quarters, accidentally rousing Henry in his kennel as she wandered into the kitchen. The dog whimpered quietly, but settled back onto his side when he realized she was only passing through and not beginning her morning routine. “Good boy, Henry,” she affirmed, flicking off the lights with a slender finger.

Finding their home empty, she ventured back to the bedroom for her slippers and her long black robe. As close as they were to the beginning of spring, the palace outside of their apartment was still quite drafty. And, unlikely as it was that she would encounter any palace staff at this time in the morning, she much preferred for them to see her in something more than just her thin pajamas.

Eliza slipped through their front door with ease, compelled by curiosity rather than fear. Almost of their own volition, her feet travelled the lengths of hallway, leading her to the grand ballroom. Moonlight streamed through the stately windows, its gleams bouncing off the ornate golden handles of the doors. Intuition told her that this was where Liam had taken their son, but to what purpose? 

Reaching out for a handle, she paused for the briefest of moments. Her mind filtered through a catalogue of memories in that place -- some joyous, but so many full of pain. Tightening her grip on the metal, she entered determined, but wary.

Eliza made out Liam’s form in the dim light of the sconces on the walls. She liked the room far better like this, calm and without the oppressive brightness bearing down from the chandeliers. Hearing her enter, her husband traveled the length of the room, chattering quietly to the good-natured, very alert infant in his arms.

“We decided to go for a stroll,” he offered by way of explanation, coming to meet her in the middle of the dance floor.  In spite of her concerns, it was clear from her husband’s demeanor that all was well.

“So I see. Telling him stories again?” 

His smile provided the answer to her question. “I was telling him about the Masquerade Ball. I’d just gotten to the part where I was relieved and overjoyed to see you in Cordonia.”

“I’m sure he’s very impressed,” she teased, inclining her face to kiss her husband’s cheek.  

“He will be one day. By the time he’s able to talk, he’ll probably be sick of hearing our story -- I intend to tell it many times.”

“And someday I’ll tell him the story of how I found the two of you in here, talking up a storm when you ought to be in bed,” she ribbed, pressing her cheek into the taut muscles of his shoulder. She gave her son an exaggerated smile and he grinned in return -- mere reflex, probably, but it warmed her all the same.

“We’ll make it back eventually.”

“I’m surprised he’s still awake. Usually a bottle is all it takes for him to be out like a light.”

Liam’s lips tugged sheepishly. “He wasn’t crying for a bottle, actually. I woke up and couldn’t help going in to check on him. When I got there, he was wide awake. I thought a walk would do us both good.”

“So you brought him to the ballroom?” 

He chuckled softly, but then grew quiet at her question. Eliza was on the verge of speaking further when Liam broke the silence. 

“I missed him today. Very much. And I spent a lot of time thinking about the kinds of things I wish my father had told me when I was a child -- not that Gregory’s going to remember this conversation--” he mused. “But I don’t want the palace to always feel like something that’s filled with pageantry to the point of being unreal. And sooner or later, he’s going to hear the stories of all of the bad that’s happened in this place. I don’t want him to grow up thinking it’s impossible for good things to happen too.”

Pesky tears clouded Eliza’s visions as she read the sincerity in her husband’s face. “With you around, there’s no danger of him thinking that.”

“Eliza...”

“I’m serious, Liam. I know I don’t have much to compare it to, but you’re doing a pretty amazing job of fatherhood so far. Somehow, I have a hard time imagining many of your ancestors sneaking away with their children at midnight to tell them stories.”

“You give me entirely too much credit.” His protest fell on deaf ears. “And I won’t sneak away with him every night -- only sometimes.”

She hid her smile against his clothed shoulder, slipping her hand under his elbow as they walked back home together. 

[resetmypatientviolence]

If you could do some headcannons for my Grumpy Commoner🙏 🌌sad ♒cooking/food 🌙sleep Thank u!!!

Of course, @ninamckenzie22! And to the other headcanons in my inbox, I’m working on em! Damn that 9-5 job. Y’all gave me a bunch to work with. (And I’ll still take them!)

These ah, kinda did their own thing again. Enjoy these mini drabbles!

Give me a headcanon ask!

★ - sad headcanon

It’s not often that Drake and Jaela get sad, but when it happens, it’s like there’s a shift, a whole new mood in their estate. It never lasts for long, but it’s enough to wear them down. There’s a quiet that fills the air, the pour of whiskey loud, and their conversations are sparse.

Neither are sad or mad at each other when this falls. Once one is sad, the other can’t help but soak up that energy. Drake tends to be sad more often. Jaela tries to remind him that it’s okay, that she wants him, but there’s always that doubt, even if his sadness wasn’t about that.

She tries to cheer him up, and there’s often smiles still in the sad moments, but she’ll fall to it too. He never says why, not really, and she doesn’t press. They don’t always need to say everything– just enough to release the sadness but to not burden the other more than they need to. Until one day, one gloomy day, the rain falling and the fire crackling, she asks him, the question like the crack of a bullet.

“Can you tell me, this time? I want to help, please, Drake.”

He sips his whiskey and she curls next to him. Drake shakes his head. “I don’t like thinking about it.”

Jaela purses her lips, looking up at him. She taps his nose. He chuckles. She missed that sound over the past three days. “Well, I don’t like seeing you like this. Please, Drake, just tell me. It can’t be that–”

“I think about what if I missed and you took the bullet. I can’t imagine a life without you, Abdi. I don’t want to think about it, but sometimes– sometimes– I look around and feel like this is all a dream. Just one dream and I’ll wake up and we’re back in the ballroom, only you’re shot– not me. I can’t bear it.” His confession is fast, swift and Jaela listens, her heart breaking.

She touches his face, tears in her eyes. Drake takes a deep breath and looks at her, eyes swimming with love and fear. “Hey, you’ve got the scar to prove it. That you took it. Not me. I’m here, Drake, and I always will be. You know that.”

He smiles and kisses her, setting down his whiskey. He’s happier now, the sadness lifting. It’ll be over, soon. “Yeah. I know.”

Jaela’s never really that sad, but the worst time was after their firstborn. She didn’t expect to get postpartum depression– after all, she was so happy with everything in her life– but that was probably why it was so bad. She felt hopeless and a terrible mother to a new baby who didn’t like to be swaddled and who always seemed to cry.

Drake catches her crying on their bed a month after their daughter, perfect in every way, was born. Lia’s asleep in the bassinet. He noticed how off Jaela was being and trying to talk to her, but she brushed it off with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Jaela,” he says, coming in and sitting next to her.

She jumps, furiously wiping at her eyes. It kills him to see her like this. “Oh-oh, hi.”

“What’s wrong? Please, please tell me what’s going on. I want to help,” he nearly pleads, taking her hands. Jaela’s lips twitch. He’s so sincere. How can she tell him that she’s sad over nothing. How perfect their daughter is, how amazing he is, and how… how she can’t do anything right.

“It took me an hour to get her down,” Jaela whispers. “An hour, Drake. She wouldn’t eat even, not until she cried herself to exhaustion, and I couldn’t do anything but hold her and wait. Just… nothing. I’m such a bad mom. I’m supposed to–”

“You’re supposed to do exactly what you did.” Drake pulls her close and Jaela’s tears resurface.

“But–”

“You are the most amazing mother. You look at her like she’s your world. She’s our world. And she got the best of draw, because she has you as a mother. We’re both lucky to have you.”

Jaela’s lips twitch but the tears come. “I thought I was supposed to always be happy about this. We waited for so long for her to come and–”

Drake kisses her lips, rubbing her back. “There’s not a supposed to be when you have a kid. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but you always like taking pictures of us any second you get.”

“Because it’s cute. Because you’re such a great dad. Because–”

“Here.” He pulls out his phone, pulling Jaela down on the bed. She curls against him, watching at he opens up his pictures. “I like taking pictures of you two, too.” And slowly, a smile appears on her face as Drake shows her all of the private moments with just her and Lia. The cuddles, the feedings, the naps, the tiny bundle on her chest– everything. Her everything.

♒cooking/food

Drake, despite his pride in being a commoner, knows little about cooking and Jaela teases him for it. Though, she’s not the best cook herself, and he teases back that a waitress doesn’t know how to cook. She hits him with the wooden spoon. “Hey, I just brought the food out and flirted with the guests for tips!”

Drake chuckles, raising an eyebrow. He turns back to the counter, chopping carrots for the salad. That he can do. “Ah, I don’t think you flirted with me that night…”

“To be fair,” Jaela says, stirring the noodles. “You were more infatuated with the whiskey than me that night.”

“Nah, I was just trying to not let you know that I met the most beautiful woman that night.” Jaela blushes, then steals a kiss. That becomes five. Then more– and more, until the pasta is far too soft but they don’t care.

Drake and Jaela never hire a cook– they don’t want to. Even if they’re hopeless in the kitchen when they first move in together, they want to feel authentic as possible while being nobles. They do learn, together, how to cook, but that isn’t until after the kids come. Drake’s a master of the grill and knows how to make a mean cake, and Jaela specializes in homemade pasta and eggs, done all the ways possible (it’s what she craved the most when pregnant with Lia).

However, their favorite meal isn’t made in the kitchen, no matter how much they love their joint efforts together. It’s outside, by the fire, making smores. Her laugh is infectious when he tries to blow out a marshmallow engulfed in flames; and he joins along, their sticky fingertips touching when he passes her the treat.

They do it at least four times a months, if not more, their little pleasures. Even when kids enter the picture, they tuck them in and take these small moments to themselves. Besides, the kids would definitely get a sugar rush. One night, the autumn chill settling in, Jaela says, “You want to know why I love this tradition?”

Drake knows, but he only smiles and says, “Why?” He pulls her closer. Jaela adjusts her reading glasses, looking up and studying him, carefully.

“The first night I saw you in Cordonia when I came back. I didn’t know when I’d see you– I swear, I was counting down the days and wishing you’d just show at my door.” She sighs, touching his thigh. “I know I was confused… but I finally realized how complete you made me feel. That once I saw you, and could talk to you again, it was like the missing piece of me was put back together again. I just wish I realized it sooner.”

Drake grins and squeezes her arm as the wind blows. “I felt the same, Abdi. Complete.”

☾ - sleep headcanon– I’ve already done this, but I have a bonus sleep HC.

Sleep drastically changes the moment Lia is born. It was already a restless battle before, but neither knew how hard it would be once she comes into the world. Lia’s in their room, her sleeping spot attached to the side of the bed. It does make it easy for Jaela to feed her in the dead of night, Jaela half asleep as she does.

Drake’s usually up too, and sometimes they talk, but otherwise it’s quiet, only Jaela’s murmurs to Lia or Lia’s sounds and cries. When Lia’s not hungry, Drake takes care of her while Jaela rests, going back to sleep. He’ll sometimes walk the estate with her, telling made up stories until she falls asleep in his arms. He doesn’t mind the no sleep. He’s just happy.

Boy, Drake and Jaela are happy for the king sized bed. Drake should have known his kids would inherit their mothers zest for not staying still while asleep. Some nights only one kid crawls into their bed, laying between them and somehow, leaving a foot of space for Drake and Jaela. It’s the worst– but best– when both are in bed with them.

They both feel their children’s little feet on their backs, kicking and stretching all night. It’s a pain, but worth it all when Drake and Jaela wake up and see their kids sounds asleep in the middle of their bed. They grin at each other and lay their heads back on the pillows, pushing back the hair on their child’s forehead and falling back asleep, the four sleeping peacefully– until the first crack of dawn hits and their children wake up, ready to play.

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Christmas in Connecticut-Chapter 14

Now available here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293105/chapters/31036059

and here

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12789981/14/Christmas-in-Connecticut

and here

In this chapter Christine notices some changes in her sister.

It’s Christmas Eve and time for Andy and Sharon to share their good news with their families.

Silent night! holy night! All is calm all is bright Round yon virgin mother and child Holy infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace! Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night! holy night! Son of God love's pure light Radiant beams from thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus, Lord at thy birth Jesus, Lord at thy birth

Silent night! holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia Christ the Saviour is born Christ the Savior is born!

+++

Christine gave a low whistle of appreciation as she watched Sharon deftly chop carrots and butternut squash with the efficiency of a Reality TV chef. “Where did you learn to chop like that?” She asked.

“Andy.”

“Andy cooks?”

“Mmm…When he was growing up he had to help out in his grandparent’s Italian restaurant. Since then he’s loved to cook and he’s been helping me with my less than impressive culinary skills.”

“Italian? I thought he was Irish like us. It is Flynn, right?”

“Yes. Andrew Patrick Flynn. Irish on his father’s side, Italian on his mother’s.”

“Ahhh…is that why we’re having lasagna along with the ham as part of Christmas Eve dinner? Is it an Italian thing?”

“Actually, it’s an Andy thing. The Italians have a tradition called “The Feast of Seven Fishes”. They serve seven different seafood dishes on Christmas Eve. “

“And just where did you learn that?” Christine leaned in and snagged a carrot, grinning when Sharon swatted her hand away.

“Where do you think? It was part of Andy’s Christmas celebration when he was a child, but without a big extended family around him in California it was just too much food, so he started making his mother‘s lasagna instead and it became his and Nicole’s tradition. I decided to give it whirl and surprise them, hopefully make them feel more at home. I called his mother for her recipe. Usually it calls for tiny meatballs and sausage but Andy gave up red meat so this is a vegetable alternative. Sylvia swears no one will know the difference. I guess we’ll see.”

“Just don’t tell Ed what’s inside. It’s like pulling teeth for me to get him to eat vegetables—and his cholesterol is through the roof.” Christine continued to watch her sister stir spinach leaves into a big bowl of ricotta cheese singing, “I’ll be Home for Christmas” along with Andy Williams.  Shaking her head, she grabbed a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator and poured them each a glass, asking, “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

“What do you mean?” Sharon accepted the glass of wine and took a sip.

“Come on Share. You’ve never exactly been Martha Stewart. You always said you hated cooking; now you’ve morphed into Giada De Laurentiis.”

Sharon smirked. It was true. Back when Emily and Ricky were growing up, cooking meals had been just another responsibility she had to deal with on her own, right up there with laundry, grocery shopping and paying the bills. After working a full day at the PSB, sometimes longer, driving out to St. Joe’s to pick the kids up at their after school programs, settling them in at home and refereeing their squabbling, she was ready to kick off her high heels and curl up to relax with a glass of wine. Instead, she had to prepare a decent healthy meal for them. She did her best to create balanced menus, but the crock-pot and the microwave had become her best friends.  After supper, while the kids sat at the kitchen table doing their homework, she would help them in between washing the dishes, cleaning up and packing their lunches for the next day. Once she had them bathed and tucked in with a story or two, she would do laundry or catch up on some work before crashing in her own bed with a book. Most nights she was lucky if she made it through a whole chapter before falling asleep. By the time her alarm went off in the morning and it was time to start the process all over again, it often felt like she had just closed her eyes.

“I used to look at cooking as just another chore on an endless list of chores. But with Andy, it’s fun. His love of cooking is infectious. I’ve started to enjoy it—at least when we’re cooking together. He’s taught me a lot and it’s just kind of nice to have that time together to unwind at the end of the day. We have some of our best conversations while we’re chopping and sautéing together.”

Christine sighed. “You’re lucky. The only thing Ed can cook is scrambled eggs, and he’d never think to lend me a hand.”

Sharon smiled at her sister. Christine liked to gripe about her husband, but there was no doubt how much she loved the man.

“I am pretty lucky. Between Andy and Rusty’s boyfriend Gus, who works as a cook, we’ve been eating very well lately, even without all the fat and red meat.”

++++

“Everything okay?’ Andy asked later, when they were dressing for the dinner party and midnight mass.

“Yes, why do you ask?”  Sharon slipped the back of her earring on then turned to face him.

“I noticed a moment between you and your sister earlier today when she was hugging Ricky.”

“Mm…The perils of being engaged to a detective. Nothing gets by you.”

Andy’s eyes lit and he took her hand, a swell of love and pride filling his chest at his ring back on her finger, hopefully for good this time. “I like hearing you say that…engaged. But, you’re right, it didn’t get past me. I know it’s been a long time but your mom and I were just talking about that this morning. You never get over losing a child and with Ricky being the same age as her son would be?” He shook his head sadly. “I can’t even imagine.”

Quick tears burned in Sharon’s eyes at just the thought of losing her son. “I don’t even want to imagine.”

Back when they were in the “getting to know you” phase of their relationship, Sharon had opened up to him about the death of her nephew.  Like Sharon, Christine had married right out of college, but unlike Sharon, her marriage to Brian O’Connor had seemed perfect. Their first daughter Jillian was a honeymoon baby, born a year before Sharon had Emily. Then a year after Emily, Bridget had come along. Despite living on different coasts, the three girl cousins bonded easily during Sharon’s vacations home.

Christine got pregnant a third time and after two girls, she and Brian longed to round their family out with a boy.  Sharon had just given birth to Ricky when Christine found out that the baby she was carrying was also a boy. The sisters were thrilled and hoped their two sons would be just as close as Emily, Jillian and Bridget were. But, Joshua Michael O’Connor was born only 25 weeks into Christine’s pregnancy. He weighed barely over a pound---and died almost three weeks later. It had been devastating for the whole family. Family leave did not exist at the time and Brian had to keep working. Chris was recovering from her c-section and wanted to spend every second at the hospital but Colleen had recently broken her leg hiking in the White Mountains leaving her unable to take care of Jill and Bridget. Brian‘s parents were divorced and he did not have a good relationship with his mother, so, still on maternity leave, Sharon had flown back east with three year old Emily and baby Ricky to help. Figuring it would be hard for Christine to see healthy, thriving Ricky while her own tiny baby was fighting for its life, she had taken all four kids out to her grandparent’s house on Nantucket, while Colleen and William were there to support Brian and Christine.

Sharon remembered that time as more like a blur rather than a vivid memory. It had only been six weeks since she had given birth. She was nursing Ricky who was proving to be a much more demanding baby than Emily had been and was still not sleeping through the night. On top of that, she had to chase, entertain and take care of three little girls between two and four. It was exhausting. Her postpartum hormones were already wreaking havoc with her emotions and the added grief of seeing her little nephew covered in wires and tubes, along with trying to comfort her sister, was almost more than she could bear. But she did. Bear it. Because even though her heart was breaking. Even though she’d flown back to the east coast knowing that her marriage, barely five years in, was already in serious, serious trouble, she simply didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Her family needed her and that was that. Somehow, she was able to dig in and find a way to summon reserves she didn’t even know she had.

Ironically, Christine’s marriage died first. Not slowly and painfully the way Sharon‘s had, but sharp and quick. Chris and Brian simply never recovered from their child‘s death. Brian wanted to try again right away for another son, while Christine was afraid to take a chance and go through that grief again. She was happy with just having her little girls. For Brian, it was a deal breaker. Before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers, he had remarried and quickly had two more children with his new wife. Both were girls.

A few years later Chris hired a landscaping company to do some work on her yard and met the owner, Edward Simmons. It was a perfect fit. Ed was 10 years older than Chris, divorced with two teens about to head off to college and was perfectly happy to help raise Christine’s daughters without wanting any more children of his own. Chris went back to school, got her masters in music history and was now the head of the music department at a private school in the Massachusetts Berkshires.

“She adores Ricky,” Sharon said. “But it’s not surprising that there are times it’s still hard for her. I suppose if we lived closer and she saw him all the time it would be different. Each time she sees Ricky she wonders what Josh would look like since they would be the same age. Would he be as tall as Ricky is? Would his voice also be changing? You know those kinds of things. “

“It’s good that you two can talk about it.”

“Mmm.. I worried about that in the beginning. I was afraid it might come between us. But Chrissie isn’t like that. She can love Ricky without resenting him or me for being lucky enough to have him. Can you help me with my necklace please?” She lifted her hair and presented her back to him so he could fix the clasp on the delicate white-gold chain with its tiny pearls and Celtic cross. When he’d finished she turned around leaving her hair up.

“What do you think?”

Her dress was strapless in a deep shade of emerald that matched her eyes. A sheer illusion scalloped lace overlay with elbow length sleeves covered her from her shoulders to her nipped in waist. The sheath style hugged her gentle curves in all the right places and she‘d finished off the look with a pair of knee high black suede boots he’d always found incredibly sexy. That combination of classy with sexy was something Andy had never found in another woman. “You look stunning…as always.”

Sharon smiled, warmed by the way he always made her feel so beautiful. “Thank you, honey, but I meant my hair. Do you think I should wear it up or down?”

“You’ll look gorgeous either way, but…” He threw his tie around his neck and took a step toward her pulling at the hand that held her hair up to allow it to fall in auburn waves to her shoulders. Reverently he thread his fingers through the silky mass.  “You know how much I like you to wear it down. I love your hair.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” No middle aged balding or comb-overs for her man. Andy’s full head of thick dark silver tipped hair contrasted beautifully with his tanned skin. Her silver fox was sexy as hell. She felt herself flushing at the memory of the previous night, his head between her thighs, her fingers digging into his hair, clutching and tugging at the short strands insistently while he pleasured her in that way they both enjoyed.

As if he knew what she was thinking Andy’s eyes met hers, mutual appreciation and desire starting to flame. His lips brushed over hers in a kiss that started out tender, but quickly blazed, tongues tangling before he broke away to trail his mouth along her jaw. His words were muffled against her skin. “Is it wrong that I want to fuck you right before we go to church?”

“Andy---“Sharon’s breath caught in her chest, a wave a lust running through her veins. From the very beginning, Andy had proven to have an uncanny ability to throw her off balance in a way that was completely new to her.

He grinned, that lazy sexy half grin that did nothing to dampen her libido.

“It’s not wrong,” she said reaching out to grab the two ends of his tie. “But we can’t. We’re already dressed and we have to be down to dinner in a few minutes.”

Her hands were trembling as she began knotting his tie. Andy still wondered over the fact that he could have this kind of effect on her. Sharon presented such a self-contained reserve to the outside world, but on the inside, she was a warm, passionate, responsive woman, at least with him.

“There,” she said when she finished. She took a step back and admired her work. Suspenders in a cranberry and emerald paisley pattern held up Andy’s dark dress slacks and his green tie matched her dress.  She’d watched him choose the green one over the cranberry one after seeing which dress she was wearing. Taking a step toward him, she couldn’t resist running the back of her fingertips over his cheek. “So handsome. You look like you stepped out of the pages of GQ.”

“Spoken like a true woman in love.” His smile widened until it brought out his dimples. Oh damn, the man was killing her.

“Spoken like a woman who tells the truth.”

Andy lifted her hand, toying with her engagement ring. He wondered if he would ever get used to seeing it there, or if it would ever stop giving him a thrill. Somehow, he doubted it.  Other than his sobriety, he’d never worked as hard for anything in his life as he had to win Sharon Raydor’s heart. And he‘d never wanted anything more than to spend the rest of his life with her. That ring was the proof that somehow he‘d been able to do both.

+++

Colleen paused for a moment and stood back to take in the elegance of her fully set dining room table, extended by three leafs to accommodate the large family gathering. Everything was perfect, from the Irish linen and crystal to her best English lace fine china and silver. Red and white poinsettias surrounded by wreaths of holly created festive centerpieces and long flickering candle tapers added a touch of warmth .It had been a long time since she’d had her entire family home for Christmas and she was enjoying every minute of it.

“Okay everyone,” she called out. “Dinner’s ready.”

As the family made their way into the dining room, everyone was too focused on the food to notice that Andy and Sharon were slightly anxious and a bit fidgety. A large ham caramelized by brown sugar and dotted with cloves sat in the center surrounded by bowls of fluffy white mashed potatoes, steaming fresh green beans and almonds, gooey sweet potatoes, corn swimming in butter and a large casserole dish filled with the cheesy lasagna, it‘s top browned nicely.

“Okay,” William said, once everyone had found seating. “Who would like to say grace before I start carving this ham?”

Andy cleared his throat nervously. Sharon gave him an encouraging look and they both stood. “Before we say grace,” Andy began. “There’s uh, something Sharon and I would like to share with you.” He waited until everyone stopped chattering and turned to look at them expectantly before continuing.  “Earlier this week, I asked this beautiful lady right here to marry me.”

Sharon wrapped her arm around Andy’s waist, almost melting into him.

“What did she say?” Ricky called out amongst the excited squeals.

With a smile that lit up her whole face, Sharon lifted her hand, finally showing off her beautiful diamond engagement ring.

Andy was beaming with pride. “Thank God, she said yes.”

With that affirmation, everyone jumped to their feet and surrounded them with laughter, hugs and kisses and plenty of admiration of Sharon’s ring.

“I can’t believe you kept this a secret all this time.” Emily admonished her mother as she examined the glittering diamonds.

“It’s only been a few days,” Sharon said. “And we thought it would be more special to do it tonight with everyone here.”

Christine pushed forward, arms crossed under her breasts. “Okay sis, now we want all the romantic details.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

“Oh come on, Auntie Sharon,” Bridget wheedled.

"Yeah, come on Auntie Sharon,” Chris grinned. “At least tell us where he proposed.”

“Well…I suppose I can tell you that much.” In a touching gesture, Sharon rested her head lightly on Andy’s shoulder. “We had a lovely dinner sitting by the fireplace at the Inn and then he took me on a moonlit horse drawn sleigh ride up through the woods to this gorgeous gazebo. It was all lit up with white twinkling Christmas lights. That’s where he asked me.”  

“Did you get down on one knee, Dad?” Nicole wanted to know.

“Of course I did. Gotta do things by the book with this lady.”

Sharon smiled tenderly at Andy. “It was all very romantic. The most romantic night of my life.” That drew a chorus of “Awwwsss….”

“Congratulations, son.” William put a hand out to take Andy’s in a firm handshake. “You be good to my girl.”

“Yes sir. Always.”

Colleen’s gaze moved from Andy back to Sharon. It was no wonder her daughter seemed to radiate love and happiness when she’d spoken of Andy and of their relationship, and that she‘d finally seemed at peace.  Stepping forward she cupped Sharon’s lovely face in her palms. “Honey, I couldn’t be more pleased for you.” She kissed her child’s cheek and then turned to Andy opening her arms to him. “Welcome to the family, Andy” she said. And with that, she enveloped him in a warm embrace of acceptance.

+++

“Sharon this is delicious.” Andy took another helping of lasagna. “I can’t believe you made my mother’s lasagna.”

“Are you sure it’s good?”

“Just as good as Nonna Sylvia’s, even without the meatballs and sausage,” Nicole assured her.

“It’s delicious,” Ed said, shoveling in a mouthful, oblivious to the soft giggles as Christine’s eyes met Sharon’s across the table.

“So.” Ricky stabbed his fork into another slice of ham. “When’s the wedding?”

“Well.” Sharon grew uncharacteristically flustered as all eyes turned back to her and Andy. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. We've just become engaged. There are a few…things we need to work through.”

The table went silent, the joy of just a few moments ago dampened.

“What do you have to work through?” Ricky pushed. “I thought you said yes.”

“I did say yes. But, we need to decide where we can have the wedding.”

“What do you mean?” Emily was thoroughly confused. “Won’t you do it at St. Josephs?”

Colleen’s eyes met Sharon’s, devout Catholic to Catholic.

“Well, there’s a problem with that. Andy and I are both divorced Catholics. We can’t get married in the Catholic Church and if we get married outside the church we could be denied the sacraments.”

“Oh my God, when is the Church going to join the 21st century?”

“Ricky.” Sharon’s tone was one of warning, but it was Andy setting his hand over the frustrated young man’s and giving him a slight negative shake of the head that caused Ricky to step back from his argument.

“You know there’s a way around that,” Colleen said. “You could get an annulment.”

“We’ve discussed that,” Andy said. “But there are problems with that too.”

“I don’t think mom will have an issue with it,” Nicole said. “She’s been remarried a long time.”

“I don’t think she will either, but…”

“But Jack probably will.” Sharon finished for him. Before everyone could jump in with their opinions, especially her two biological children who were looking pretty outraged, Sharon cut them off. “Look, we’re happy, we’re engaged, and we’ll figure this out. Let’s just enjoy this moment.”

“Sharon’s right,” William said. “This is a happy day.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “To Andy and Sharon, the future Mr. and Mrs. Flynn.”

“Well…” Sharon hemmed, lifting her glass with everyone. “That’s still up for debate.”

With everyone clinking glasses and questioning Sharon on whether or not she would keep her last name no one noticed the pointed looks shared between Ricky, Emily and Nicole.

TBC

[thegirlsinthefirehouse]

Descendants, Chapter 40

----- Erin and Patty had taken the flowers and such down to the Ecto-1 and brought up the car seat the morning Abby and Eliana were discharged. 

Abby was definitely happy to be going home. Nurses coming in and checking on her was definitely something she could do without. She just wanted to go home with Holtz and their daughter and relax. If she was going to become the on demand milk machine for their little one, then she wanted to be able to be on her own couch with Netflix and her Amazon Video account.

And at least she could go downstairs and see how things were going in between feedings. Abby sighed to herself. Ever since the baby was born, she was really struggling privately with feelings of resentment for her decisions about starting a family again. It was really hard since she loved her child already and enjoyed watching Holtz interact with Ellie. She was so in love and already making plans for Eliana’s future. She didn’t mention this to anyone, figuring it’d go away in a few days when things weren’t so hectic and crazy. Baby Blues and Postpartum Depression were very real things and she knew her hormone levels were fluctuating rapidly so it’d take some time to get back to normal.

However normal her life could be with the Ghostbusters. And Holtzmann.

"Okay, going home momma," said Holtz, gesturing to the wheelchair and waiting staffer. They already had Ellie in the car seat, despite her cries of protest at such. It had almost broken Holtz's heart to have do so. But Patty was waiting downstairs with the Ecto-1 and Holtzmann really wanted to get home herself. Once Abby had gotten sat down in the chair, Holtz had deposited the car seat in Abby's lap. She adjusted the plaid shirt on her daughter with a soft laugh. The little beanie type hat and the clothes almost made her look like a little lumberjack. All she needed was a mini axe. She got Holtzmann to hand her cell phone out of her stuff and took a picture to send to her family. Her brother and Ariel and her parents had tons of photos and video already, but one more wouldn't hurt. They were all planning to come up and see their new grandchild and niece. Abby couldn't wait to introduce her daughter to her brother's kids. They were definitely excited about having another kid to play with. Abby was smiling at the sight in front of her as she pocketed the phone. She held onto the handle as the staffer left the room and headed for the elevators.

"It's a good thing you're getting an early start," said the staffer, whose name tag Holtz noticed said he was named Jake. "Snowstorm is coming in sometime after four."

"Maybe we won't have much work then," said Holtz cheerfully. "And I can make you sit down instead of trying to coordinate."

"Like you're going to sit down?" said Abby, eyeing Holtz.

"I have work to do," she said teasingly. "I'm two weeks behind since someone decided to stay inside their other momma for longer than they should."

Abby groaned. She had already forgotten that it had been that long. She was just relieved Ellie had been born. She had definitely been right when she had told Patty that before about the forgetfulness. They waited for the elevator to ding and open so they could go downstairs. The rest of the trip and going out to the car was quiet. Once Erin and Abby had gotten Ellie buckled into the backseat, Holtzmann had demanded the keys from Patty, who shook her head no and pointed to the passenger seat. Holtz pouted, which made them all chuckle at the engineer. Erin sighed from the back and promised Holtz she could use the siren at least.

-----

Diana, Angie, Beth, and Jen had all gushed over the baby once they had stepped back into the firehouse. They had even gotten together and picked out baby gifts. Holtz had loved the stuffed rocket ship, making it swoosh around Eliana’s head. But after a few minutes of work talk, Holtzmann quickly ushered her wife upstairs. She pointed to the couch.

“Sit,” she said. “I’ll go get the co-sleeper so you can keep Eliana beside you.”

Abby was amused when she saw Erin had left the flowers and gifts that had been sent to her in the hospital on their coffee table. She had figured Erin would “forget” the flowers and leave them on her desk so she could look at all the roses while she was working. Holtzmann and Abby had even gotten a visit from one of the childbirth class instructors who had been there visiting a friend who had also given birth as well. After a few minutes, they had figured out she was kin to Jennifer Lynch. In fact, they were sisters. So they had all been amused when a bouquet and a cute teddy bear had appeared later from Penelope and Jennifer Lynch.

Holtz came back out of the baby’s room as Abby was getting Eliana out of the car seat. The blonde strolled into the bedroom and came back out with pillows. She helped Abby by holding Eliana as she sat down.

“Rest, relax. I know you are still very sore.”

“And what are you going to do?” said Abby, eyeing her wife.

“Once I unpack and get out everything we might need for the day, I’m sitting my butt down on the other end of this couch and be at your beck and call.”

“I figured you were going downstairs to your lab,” said Abby, unbuttoning her plaid shirt.

Holtz shrugged. “Not today. Wife and child come first.” She kissed Abby on the cheek and headed towards the bedroom. The paranormal investigator laid Eliana on the breastfeeding pillow they had bought and set her to eat. She lovingly rubbed her daughter’s cheek as she began to suckle.

“I can’t get over the fact that she’s already waking up on her own to eat,” said Holtz, coming into the room with a load of dirty laundry.

“Not like you wouldn’t wake up for food,” mused Abby. “Especially if you were being fed about 8-12 times a day by breast...”

“I would be the happiest gay woman alive,” teased Holtz with a wink as she went through to the bathroom.

“You do realize newborn stomachs are only about the size of an acorn,” said Abby a little loud so Holtz could hear her. “Could you imagine only eating an acorn?”

“No, because then I would be a squirrel,” said Holtz, coming back through. “And I’m already nuts enough as it is.”

Abby groaned, shaking her head. Holtz laughed as she went into the kitchen and got some water. She sat it down beside her wife and kicked off her boots before sitting down on the couch.

“Do you want to get out the ring sling and start trying it?” asked Holtz.

“Maybe in a couple of days,” Abby said. “I think I need the downtime.”

“For good reason,” said Holtz. “You’ve done a major thing to your body. It needs recovery.”

Abby nodded. After she was certain Eliana was finished, she held her upright and started rubbing her back. Holtz scooted closer and took Ellie from her wife.

“You want something to eat?” asked Holtz. “I think Erin and Kevin were going to grab food for everyone, but I can make you something.”

“I think I can wait, but I do have a request for the future meal,” said Abby. “A thick rib eye, medium rare. Mashed potatoes with garlic and rosemary and portabella mushroom gravy. Oh, and that crab and bacon mac and cheese.”

“Ah, the deluxe menu,” grinned Holtz. “Shall I get the wine and dessert list?”

“Only if there are eclairs involved.”

“I think I need to call Cheyenne to do a catered celebratory meal here at the firehouse,” mused Holtzmann. “You must be regaining your appetite after all that nausea.” She rubbed their daughter’s back to help with digestion.

“I think it’s the boobs,” said Abby. “Feeling full is kind of making me hungry.”

“With good reason,” said Holtzmann. “You’re making food so you need to eat.” She patted Abby’s knee. “I know it’s slightly uncomfortable, but...”

“Feels very warm and full,” said Abby, breaking in.

“Booooooooobs,” teased Holtz. She got up and laid a sleeping Eliana in the co-sleeper before kissing Abby on the forehead and running a hand down her cheek.

“Happy to be home.”

“Me too,” said Abby with a soft smile as Holtz straightened her shirt collar.

-----

“Hiiiiii,” said Erin, her eyes marveling at the sight in front of her as she came upstairs the next morning. Eliana was resting on Abby, her eyes looking around. Abby was halfway lying on a bunch of pillows with her daughter facing up and out while nestled in one arm. She had a tablet in the other hand.

“Someone was just fed and hasn’t gone back to sleep,” said Abby, smiling. “So she is investigating the ceiling for cracks and listening to Mommy read to her. I’m sure Michio Kaku is probably very entertaining.”

“But Mommy is saying it, so it can’t be that bad, can it Ellie?” She gestured to the baby. “May I?” Abby nodded and let Erin take Eliana, who whimpered a little at the movement. Erin smiled at her and wrapped her up a little more as Abby sat up and moved her feet to make room for Erin.

“Just enjoying a little quiet time huh?”

“Getting her to rest so I can rest,” said Abby. “Up and down all night. She is not taking well to the environment change. She is alright as long as Holtz and I are holding her, but she does not want to be put down. Our arms are both tired today.”

“Coming home is not going so hot then huh?” said Erin.

“No,” Abby whined. “Someone is fussy.” She sighed. “I know this is a thing newborns do because they don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t realize how annoying it is until nothing seems to want to calm them down. You feel... helpless.”

“I know you know that Eliana has only been in this world for less than 84 hours and you’re all three still learning to respond to each other.” Erin nuzzled the front of Eliana’s little hat. “You and your mommies have just got to learn each other's language.”

The gesture earned Erin an ear splitting cry as Eliana wailed, her tiny face going red.

“Okay, that is definitely a note to self to never do again,” said Erin, bouncing and rocking Ellie a little to try to calm her down. Abby sipped on her bottle of water and smiled, not saying anything.

-----

“She’s asleep,” said Holtz softly as she walked into the bathroom. “I know you’re enjoying that shower Abs, but we all should be sleeping at this point.”

“I know, it’s just--” She sighed from behind the frosted glass. “Do you think you could come in here and help me with something?”

Holtzmann perked up at that.

“Whatever my naked lady desireth,” she said. Abby could already see her shedding her clothes as she was throwing them up in the air. Holtz opened the shower door.

“Now I know Abs that the doctor said--”

“Just get your ass in here,” said Abby. Holtz grinned and climbed in. She ducked her head under the warm water.

“What do you need?” she asked, knocking water out of her ear by banging on the other.

“Massage,” said Abby. She pointed to her chest. “These. I feel so full and it’s uncomfortable. You’re better at this than I am.”

“Roger,” said Holtz. She stood sideways against the wall, deciding to pull on the shower head and aim it at a better angle than her wife had it. She held Abby’s close, who sighed and nuzzled Holtz’s neck and laid a kiss on her jaw. Holtzmann took a hold of the left one and gently began to rub it. She could see where Abby would think it would be like a rock. It definitely was still hard even with all the heat and moisture.

“Just got to put a little love into it,” she teased Abby. “Gentle and smooth.”

“You can do that so well,” said Abby, leaning against Holtz a little more, who got a mouthful of Abby’s wet hair. She blew it out of her mouth with a disgusted look, which made Abby snort at her wife.

“It’s not like you haven’t gotten a mouthful before.”

“Just not that wet and tasting like shampoo,” said Holtz, blowing a raspberry at her wife. She could feel Abby relaxing against her.

“None of that. No napping in the shower.”

“Spoilsport.” Holtz could feel Abby moving a little under her touch.

“Still very sensitive?”

“Mmhmm.” Holtz switched breasts. Abby’s milk was starting to come in and she had been feeling so heavy and full, which was very uncomfortable. Warmth had helped so far, and it was looking like massage was doing a good job too. After a few minutes, she could tell Abby was feeling a little better. She wasn’t squirming under her fingertips as she went between the two.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem Abs. A beautiful woman asking me to jump naked into the shower with her and massage her breasts. How can a lesbian ever turn that down?”

“As long as it’s just one beautiful woman,” said Abby, teasing Holtzmann. Holtz chuckled and kissed her wife lovingly on the side of the cheek.

-----

“... Syracuse.”

The catch in Erin’s throat made her feel strange for a moment. That meant...

“They’ve found a home.”

“Great rental property,” said Abby, rocking Eliana gently in her arms. All four of the Ghostbusters were sitting around the conference table in the firehouse. They were having a meeting after hours of just the four of them to go over a little bit of business without being interrupted. “State just signed off. It’s downtown, with four floors. Two of them are apartments so they’ll have space to live and work there. The funny thing is that it used to be a club on the bottom floor so there’s a bar. I guess they don’t have to go far to have libations after work.”

“You know, I could build a bar for us.”

“I don’t think so Holtzy. We really don’t have space,” said Patty. “Besides, you can have all the alcohol you want upstairs in your apartment.” Holtz’s eyes lit up at that. It seemed liked she had forgotten she already had free access to booze if she wanted it. Erin grabbed a hold of her collar before she could get up and leave the conference table.

“It doesn’t seem right, does it?” she stated, sitting Holtzmann back down.

“It doesn’t,” agreed Patty. “They’ve become a part of our lives.”

“Except Jen. She can go,” pouted Holtz. “She keeps standing in front of the lab door and not letting me in.”

“She is great at staring Holtzmann down,” Erin teased.

“I just wanted some tools,” grumbled Holtz. “Ladies, I’m dying of boredom here.”

“And how old is your baby now?” asked Patty.

“A week?” said Holtz hopefully, trying to look pitiful.

“We’re going to have to let her go back in the lab so she won’t go stir-crazy,” said Abby. She passed her daughter to Patty so she could get what she needed.

“Let me rephrase that. Before she drives me stir-crazy.” She got up from her chair. “Okay, onto the next order of business, although it’s only semi Ghostbuster related.” She started opening a box that was sitting on the table before picking up a bottle of champagne and four glasses from a chair and placing them beside it.

“Oh, now there are drinks,” said Holtzmann. Abby rolled her eyes.

“You knew it was down here. You went and bought the bottle.”

“Still...”

“What is all this Abby?” asked Patty.

“It is the culmination of a semi-solo project you girls knew I was working on. Finally came from the printers. You all know I’ve been kinda quiet about this. And it was worth it, I think,” said Abby. She started opening the box.

“Erin... you know I love you.”

“Oh here we go,” said Holtz with a sigh, sounding pitiful as she took off her yellow tinted glasses and put them on the table. “I always knew this day would come.” She looked mopey for a second before both Erin and Abby gave her the finger for her comment without hesitation. The nuclear engineer was absolutely delighted in their synchronicity as she grinned widely, eyes dancing between the two. Patty just shook her head and looked at Eliana in her arms.

“You sure you wanna be a part of this world?”

“Yes she does,” cooed Holtz as she leaned into Patty and kissed her daughter’s tiny forehead.

Abby opened the box and started handing out books, making sure to hand the first one to Erin.

“What is this?” asked Erin, looking at the cover.

“Afterlife Assistance: For When Ghosts Come Into Your Life?” repeated Patty.

“A doctor of psychology contacted me online,” said Abby. “Through Ghost News. She was looking for research. She’s been dealing with the aftermath of her own family having to deal with ghosts in their home after everything with Rowan. She noticed the toll it was taking on her children and even though she knew it was probably going to make a laughingstock of her in the community, she wanted to write about how to help those who have been affected. So I helped her with research and we ended up spending a lot of time talking about things... a good bit of it about you.” Abby reached up and scratched the inside corner of her eye under her glasses while looking at Erin. “And how you were so tortured and hurt that people didn’t believe you. Didn’t even want to believe you. I ended up telling her how much I had wanted to help you in high school and how I felt like I couldn’t do anything. So this... turned into a co-author project. Apparently I’m like a magnet for that sort of thing.”

“So is this about me?” asked Erin, feeling dubious.

“No,” said Abby. “It’s a lot of... coping techniques and such to help people or yourself. It’s really new territory. But some of the anecdotes and stories are mine. I helped her gather the rest through the website and contacting former clients for interviews. It’s really a big group project to make people realize they aren’t alone. Especially those who do not know how to help themselves.”

“Dude...” said Patty. “This could be helpful to a lot of people.”

“That’s what we were trying for,” said Abby. “And I think it was Erica wanted to convey all along.”

Erin ran her hand across Abby’s name on the front cover. She was honored that her best friend had taken on this project because she had felt she needed to do so because of their friendship in the past. She opened the front cover and flipped through the two dedication pages, stopping on the one she knew was Abby’s.

To All the Ghost Girls Out There: We Believe You.

Erin hopped up out of her seat and hugged Abby tightly. Tears were spilling out of her eyes as she buried her head in her best friend’s shoulder.

“I could have helped,” she said after a moment. Abby started laughing.

“I know, but it sort of took on a life of its own and really, it’s not my project per se. I just helped it along.”

“It was enough you got a co-author,” said Erin. “Oh my god Abby...”

“I know,” she said. “I didn’t say anything and--”

Erin shook her head, smiling. “It’s great. I wish something like this could have existed before. But I guess it had to wait on us for it to come into existence.” She grinned, leaning into her best friend.

“So do I get the first autographed copy?” Abby rolled her eyes and pulled out a pen out of her pocket. Holtz got up and grabbed the bottle of champagne.

“Bubbly for everyone!” She started handing out glasses after uncorking the bottle far away from the conference table, trying not to make a loud pop which would startle Eliana. It thankfully didn’t, much to both her mothers' relief.

“None for you sweet pea,” said Holtz, kissing the top of her daughter’s head after handing a full glass to Patty. “You can have some milk later.”

“Erica will be here next week,” said Abby after handing Erin back her book. “She wants to meet everyone, so I invited her and her family to come visit. I thought you ladies would like to meet them. She and her husband adopted too.”

“Should be fun,” said Holtz, coming up beside her wife, handing her a glass. “A toast to a new book. This is what, like....”

“Our 10th?” laughed Patty, teasing. “Between us all.”

“Should have gotten a cake then,” said Abby, smirking.

“Sushi!” said Holtz suddenly. “I’ve been craving some Abby, but I knew you couldn't eat it, so...”

“Ordering in for dinner?” said Abby, looking between her friends. “Will David and Cheyenne mind?”

“Cheyenne’s working,” said Patty, who handed off the newborn to Holtz. Erin shrugged.

“He’ll live. He’s still got a lot to make up for.”

-----

Holtz winced when she heard Eliana cry. She started to move and Abby’s hand was on her shoulder.

“Go back to sleep.”

“It’s my turn,” Holtz said softly, trying to wake up.

“She’s just hungry.” Holtz looked up at her alarm clock and saw that Abby was probably right. She rolled over and watched as Abby unfastened her nursing bra while holding their child.

“You can do the diaper afterward.”

“Input and output. You and me,” said Holtz, half-asleep. Abby snorted.

“You would find a joke in getting woken up in the middle of the night.” Holtz frowned at that.

“Abs?”

“It’s nothing,” she sighed. “I was just sleeping well, and-- I’ve just got to get used to the scheduling.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to keep sleeping when she sleeps,” said Holtz. “Even during the day. I know you don’t like it, but...”

When she heard Abby grumble under her breath, Holtz chuckled. She leaned up and kissed her wife softly. She ran a hand through Abby’s hair, which was down around her shoulders.

“I know it sucks Abs, but it is what it is. We’ve got to learn to work together as a team.”

“Team Input/Output?”

Holtz sighed loudly. “Can we trade?”

“Do your boobs feel heavier than watermelons and are producing milk?”

“That would be a no.”

“Diapers,” said Abby. She wrinkled her nose a little as she moved Eliana carefully. “And I think she needs it.” <– Prev | Next –> 

[grantplant]

Inside/Outside

This week, Mira is nine months old. I guess nine is a number pregnant (har) with significance, and I’m wrestling with the impossible-seeming reality that she’s been out for about as long as she was in.

She was a timely little lass, arriving two days after her due date. In fact, everything about her arrival was routine. I started contractions the evening of July 13, recording their strength and frequency throughout the night, calling into the doctor around 2 AM and then taking a cab to the hospital at 6 that morning. Boring, right?

The family room we requested was open, so the staff instructed us to settle in, nap, and try to eat something. I puked a lot, someone brought us lunch at 12, and by 2 I was in the tub in the birthing room. By 3, I was on the bed, hooked up to my short-release opiate (“the happy button,” they called it, and it was, for a short while at least).

At 7:49 that evening, after what felt like an eternity of pain and bellowing but was really only a few action-packed hours, out popped Mira, all according to the birthing plan. Granted, it was a simple one: Get her out, preferably without an epidural, and delay cord-cutting until she’d gotten the maximum benefit of the placenta. The rest was built in to their (the hospital’s) approach: baby stays on mama, no bathing, relaxed approach to taking weight and height. What didn’t go to plan was a burst blood vessel during delivery, and the somewhat extensive blood loss and stitching that happened immediately after Mira’s arrival. And I thought I was done with the pain and discomfort. But I had 7.7 pounds and 19 inches of Mira to behold, so I was well-distracted.

If I am this nostalgic about her entrance into our lives a mere nine months later, I can only imagine what I’m going to feel in nine or nineteen years! Hear me now: you don’t have to listen to my blubbering. Just pat my arm and walk away.

In the era of Mira, I have an all-new subset of favorite things. Where the saddest part of my day used to be saying goodbye to Pat when he left for work, and the gladdest part welcoming him back (gag, sorry… I love him), I have added to the sad list dropping Mira off at daycare (on those days that she goes), and the glad list collecting her again, as well as seeing her sleepy face first thing in the morning. Also on my list of favorites is reading to her before bedtime, and I daresay it’s a fave of hers, too. She’s really into Yummy Yucky (I think she likes the baby) and we’re digging deep into that whole series of opposites: Quiet Loud, Big Little, No No Yes Yes.

Someone told me that opposites have to be taught in context or else kids will confuse which is which. Near/Far, for example. I guess the way Grover did it on Sesame Street is the right way?

Otherwise, the two get conflated and baby/toddler/child can’t remember if near is called near or far, and far is called far or near. Same for above/below, front/back, inside/outside, and so on. (For my part, I swapped the meanings of by accident/on purpose when I was little, and I remember keenly how confused I was when I’d get in trouble after claiming I did something on purpose. Opposites, man. Tricky.)

I’m sure one day Mira and I will have the age old conversation about how she was once inside of me, and then she came out. She may ask what it was like then, when she was growing in my belly, and I’m glad I have a handful of mostly sunny, positive blog posts from that time to point her to. For all the journaling I do now, jotting daily milestones, challenges, dear moments and my impressions, I did very little writing for myself in those first nine months.

It’s not that my blog posts were at all dishonest, but they didn’t paint the whole picture. There was a significant period of time—mostly relegated to the first half of my pregnancy, when I was so sick and dispirited—that I felt sure we’d made a terrible mistake. I was too ashamed to put to paper everything in my head and heart: I wasn’t going to like being a mom, at least not right away; this was an aspirational journey and I’d know at the end of my life I made the right choice and it was all worth it. I just had to grin and bear the rest. I was surely going to suffer from postpartum depression. I think I was already depressed.

The latter four and a half months were a lot better. I stopped throwing up and started eating; winter ended and the sun came out; I could see, then feel, evidence of the baby inside; we found out, finally, that we were having a girl. It got better, but I don’t think I ever stopped feeling a low level dread born of deep uncertainty about what Pat and I had gotten ourselves into.

That is, until July 14, 2016 at 7:49 PM. Or maybe 7:50.

Unbeknownst to me, Pat and the midwife (who had become fast friends and mutual fans during my private trial) had been gaming how many more pushes until Mira was free of me and fully out in the world. I was on my hands and knees facing away from them, eyes closed, praying, bargaining, asking for help, begging for someone to get her out. The midwife had told Pat three more, but it only took two before I looked down and saw that heap of baby below me. Then I wailed. I remember thinking that I wasn’t even happy—not yet. Just relieved. It was over.

And then the switch flipped.

Inside/Outside. Before/After. Sad/Glad. Pain/Joy. Where there had been notions and expectations, deep uncertainty followed by the most incredible pain I ever hope to know, her arrival marked the start of a new reality. And this reality couldn’t be more different from the one I’d imagined.

If you know me, you know I hate being wrong. Almost as much as I hate spiders and bigotry. I’m so ashamed of how wrong I was about this. I’m so grateful that I was so wrong about this.

Wrong/Right. Sad/Happy. Endured/Treasured. Burden/Blessing. I give thanks for opposites, and living long enough (or being patient or foolish or lucky enough) to learn the difference between the two.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 9: A Family of Five, Not Including The Dogs

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

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"How did you and Dad meet again?" Esha asks, setting her plate into the dishwater. The topic only came over dinner because Koha was talking about the next step with Davon. This comes at no shock, seeing as the pair has stuck out not only the last couple of years of secondary schools but also the distance of Davon at university. This sparked discussion about Calum and Harlowe, though most of the focus stayed on him. Until now, of course.

"I've told you this story so many times before," Harlowe laughs, sealing the tupperware top over the leftovers. It's a shock there ever are any with three kids. But Te Koha, now at 21, has moved out within the last year, so it's one less mouth to feed regularly. Esha will be going off to college at the end of August. That will just leave Nikau, the baby at 10, in the house. It's going to be too quiet without them. Never mind the fact that there's three dogs. There's less ruscus from the dogs now, as they've gotten older. They play a little, still like their walks, but at home it's time to lounge around, be the kings and the queen of the castle.

"But I haven't heard it Momma," Nikau pleads, handing his plate to Esha. He's a spitting image of Calum, the same fat cheeks, big brown eyes, and pouty lips.

"It's better when you tell it," Esha agrees, pressing a kiss to Harlowe's cheek. "Are those the last of the dishes before I start 'er up? Last call or your hand washing your dishes," she calls out to the house.

Harlowe shakes her head. There is no denying Esha on Harlowe's part. She'd be hard pressed if she wanted to even try. Between the personality and the soft and full cheeks and shade of brown, softer than Harlowe's hinting more to a caramel. Te Koha brings in the last of the dishes. "You don't have to yell. Mom does enough for all of us." He grins, skin dark like hers, grinning. "Still love you though."

"You're pushing it,just like your Papa Bear."

"What about me?" Calum asks, walking into the kitchen the dogs following behind him.

"Your child," Harlowe teases, "likes to push my buttons too."

"How do we know he's mine?" Cal grins.

Te Koha walks over, patting Calum on the shoulder. "I think it's evident enough," he laughs. Te Koha definitely got his height from Harlowe's side though, all the men are well over 6 feet. He is no exception as he towers over Calum.

"Please Momma. Please," Nikau begs, leaning against her legs.

"Okay, okay. But first," Harlowe says which earns a groan from Nik.

"If you say get ready for bed," he sighs.

"You have to get ready for bed." Nikau gives a big huff, almost folding his arms across his chest and then deciding against it. The fleeting glare of Harlowe's eyes makes him realize he can't. His mother is not the one to front on too much. "You have that field trip tomorrow and you have to be up early. It's kind of a long story. Since you asked, you're going to get the full version, uncut, director's cut."

"Okay!" Nikau runs out of the kitchen. Koha follows behind him- trying to get a hug before he leaves. Sissy follows behind the both of them. She's really the only one that has the energy to keep up with the energy of Nikau. Pepper's getting to the point where she trots around but doesn't have the get up like before. Jack was never the one to run around a lot. He got excited for the walks, for the treats, but overall is pretty healthy. But the age is clear in all of them

"Please tell me you're not going to give completely unedited version," Calum chuckles. "He may be too young for some of those details."

Esha gags next to Harlowe. "That's an image I'd like to erase from my mind."

"How you think you got here?" She asks with a laugh.

"A stork," Esha responds.

"If that's what you want to think, go for it." Harlowe is not going to be one the burst that bubble.

"Thanks for dinner, Mom," Koha says as he returns from upstairs, hugging me. He comes over every Sunday for dinner with us. Once he started working in welding and doing neon work, things took off for him. He had to fly with it. It was hard letting him go, her first baby to fly the coop.

"No need to thank me," Harlowe says softly, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She knows that she's holding on a tad too long when Calum starts rubbing her back. "Thirty more seconds," she laughs before releasing Te Koha.

Calum and Koha hugs before Esha gets hers. "How come you're not like this with me?" Calum asks in a whisper.

"Because I didn't birth you. I just married you," Harlowe says. "It was a privilege to marry. It's an honor to have kids." Calum laughs kissing her temple. She's right. He knows that down in bones. But he's glad to have that privilege. The dogs get their goodbyes too before Koha leaves.

Esha clings to Harlowe, head resting on her shoulder. "It's not the same without him here."

"You do have a whole other brother to annoy," Harlowe laughs, rubbing her back. She rests her head on top of Esha's. "But I get it. The house is shrinking."

"I know, but remember when we still lived in the States. I was painting and spilled the red all over your manuscript."

"Yes! I 'bout had a heart attack!"

Esha laughs. "But Koha took the blame for it but made me do his chores for a week. Even though I hated touching the trash, I did it because I was terrified."

"I knew you were the one that spilled it. He didn't even get in a lot of trouble."

"I figured that out later. But we got even because after we moved, I covered from him breaking the picture frame."

"I had no idea who broke that. It could've been either one of y'all," Harlowe laughs. "Thought it might've broken during the move."

"We didn't even ship any glass," Calum counters.

"You grow three kids and see how your mind ends up. You're lucky I still remember my own name," she huffs.

"Sometimes you don't," he snickers.

"You lucky Esha holding me back or else."

"Or else what? You're going to forget my name too," he taunts.

"I wish I could forget your name sometimes. Maybe I'd remember what I was going to say for a hot second."

"You too are disgustingly in love with each other and as much as this makes me want to vomit, this also makes me, like, envious," Esha states, shaking against her mother. She's still wrapped into Harlowe, tucked under her mother's arm. Part of her hopes she finds something like that. To be so disgusting in love with that it matters what no one else thinks about. She knows beneath all the taunts her mother would go through hell for Calum and her.

The two of them pile up onto the couch.  Harlowe passes through the living through to check on Nikau. Pepper lays near the front door, eyes watching. "Poor girl," Harlowe whispers. There are pictures of the chocolate lab mutt watching over Koha, who's fast asleep in the rocker. The two of them ran around the block.  Koha wanted to take her with him when he moved but his apartment building didn't allow dogs.

She's able to hand the distant a little bit better now. Harlowe knows it still hurts her heart every time he leaves. Koha talks about moving into a building that allows a dog. It's a bit more expensive though; Calum and Harlowe offered to cover the difference. He won't have it and Davon needs a better location for his work. So things are in a tough spot for the moment. "Pepper," Harlowe calls, paused at the stairs. She twitches her ears, but doesn't move. Esha settles down beside her, gently petting her.

Jack takes advantage of the empty space now and curls up with Calum. "You know the dogs shouldn't be up on the couch," Harlowe says to Calum.

"When have I ever listened to that rule."

"You're such a softie."

"Someone has to be with your hard-ass around." The only response is a roll of her eyes. She ascends the stairs. Much to her shock the bathroom door is closed. It opens though before she can close the distance.

"Turn to the left?" Nikau asks. After redoing the bathroom, there is still some things to get used too. Harlowe nods. He nods and then closes the door behind him again. She waits, then catches the rush of water hitting the tiles.

Back downstairs, she settles in next to Calum, placing Jack on her thighs. He seems very unbothered by her presence. However, after a few second's he walks into Calum's lap. He's always been a bit more keen to Calum. Calum taps away at his phone for a second. Before leaning over, a kiss pressed into Harlowe's temple. "I love you even if he doesn't."

Harlowe shakes her head, her laughter short and mostly silent. "I'm not offended." Esha's still consoling Pepper when Nikau finally descends the stairs, dressed in pj's. He takes over Jack's previous spot. "Now will I get the story?"

She plays at his tight corkscrew curls and nods. "So, many moons ago,"

Nikau interrupts. "How many moons?"

"That," Harlowe chuckles, squeezing his side a little, "is not important. It was many moons ago before we moved here, to Sydney. Papa Bear was living in LA, making music, getting all the girls," she teases.

Calum groans, burying his face in Harlowe's shoulder. "Do not fill my son's head with lies. She's lying Nik."

"It's not a lie," she shrieks. "You know girls were practically falling all over you."

"So what if they were, it's not important here," he returns.

"So you admit you had girls lining up for you?"

"Let's just say, I knew I had options." He grins. "But not one compared to you." His lips press into the crook of her neck. "I love you," Calum breathes as if the air is leaving his body for the last time.

With her hand, she taps his knee. "I love you too. But back to my story, Auntie and I went out to LA for a girl's trip. She had just finished her master's; I was still working retail in Virginia but was in the midst of looking at places to go to school for my first master's. She wasn't a partier, but I was. While walking around, looking for some bar that I wanted to go to, we ran across one that was having an open mic night. Auntie wanted to check it out; I wasn't sure about it. I figured we weren't having much luck my way, so why not?

"So we head inside; I order a drink. We're just listening, laughing, joking amongst ourselves. The announcer steps onto stage and notes that one performer couldn't make it, so they were going to open the stage up to anyone. I wasn't going to read anything. I was two drinks in by this point. I had hit a lull in writing and wasn't producing anything I felt particularly proud of; the stars did not feel too aligned for me. But she insisted, and insisted, and insisted. Finally, I get my hips out my seat and walk up to the mic. I can hear her cheering in the crowd, shouting my name, "Whoa, go Harlowe!'' She imitates in a quieter whisper, as the sound comes flooding back to her eardrums. Nikau watches the far way look taking over his mother's eyes. Her fingers are still brushing over his back but slowing.

"I get up and read a few pieces. It goes better than I anticipated though. What I hadn't realized is that someone in the crowd was particularly intrigued by me." Nikau looks across to Calum, raising his eyebrows at his dad. Calum returns the gesture with an added wink.  "I walked up to the bar to get another drink. The place is kind of packed, so it took a minute before anyone ever even saw me standing there. As I'm waiting to be seen, someone slides up next to me. I don't think much of it, maybe they're just ordering a drink too. So I wait for a moment and then they start talking to me. 'I really liked your work.'" Harlowe lowers her voice to imitate Calum's grovel and cadence. She fails of course. But it matters not how accurate she is. Calum laughs at the attempt. She continues on. "I have no clue who it is until I look up. Lo and behold, it is Calum freaking Hood, talking to me."

"Did you almost have a heart attack?" Nikau acts with a chuckle.

"I surely did! I knew who he was; I had listened to the band's music. But never in my twenty-four years did I think that I would run into him. I try to play it cool, ya know? I can't let him know that I'm freaking out on the inside."

"She failed horribly," Calum interjects.

"Are you telling the story or am I?" Harlowe asks. Calum holds his hands up in surrender. "I tried to play it cool, right. We talk for a little bit; I tell him I'm just visiting and a bunch of other stuff; he even pays for my drink. Such a gentleman. It's flirty, but nothing serious. I go back to the table where Auntie and I are sitting and we flip out. Our night is coming to a close and before we can stand from our table; Calum comes back over. I am flustered, thinking, What does the likes of him want with the likes of me? I wasn't anything special, just a girl looking to have some fun in the little three, four days I had out in California."

Calum speaks up again. "You were hot and clearly talented. I wanted a lot to do with you."

"Gross, Dad" Esha huffs. "That's just gross."

"What happened next?" Nikau asks.

"We exchanged numbers. He told me and I quote, 'Call me if you want to see more than just the flashing lights of LA.' And I knew exactly what he meant."

"And you fell for that, Mom? I am disappointed."

Harlowe laughs, looking over to see Esha with Pepper's head in her lap. "Let a hot guy with tattoos and a leather jacket approach you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, you'll fall for whatever bullshit that falls out of his mouth too."

"That's twenty-cent," she reprimands. The swear jar has long stood in the family but is never seriously used once the kids got older. "But just because he was in a band and famous doesn't mean you should've fallen for that line."

"What line should I have jumped his bones with then? "Hey, wanna come see my band" is that the line I should've fallen for?"

Esha scrunches up her face. "Okay, that just sounds pretentious. I'm so glad you didn't use that line, Dad. Kudos to you. But I still can't believe how easy it was."

Harlowe smiles. "Let someone with tattoos and a leather jacket come home with you. We'll test just how easy it is."

"Oh, that's so not fair. It's different now."

"Time may be different, but I assure you people are not."

Esha laughs, "So I totally shouldn't tell you all about Jen then."

"Oh we'd love to hear about Jen," Calum teases.

"Mom's story first," Nikau protests. "And then Esha."

"I've done it to myself," Esha says.

Harlowe continues on. "Now where was I? I called the next day. And well, that's kind of it. We became friends, of sorts. I wound up going to school out there too the next year. We dated, for a long time. Had Te Koha, got married, then Esha came along, moved to Sydney and then we had you. And now here we are."

"It can't be that simple," he pouts.

Calum reaches over. Nikau carefully climbs over Harlowe into Calum's lap. Jack curled up into his Calum's side long ago, freeing up his hands for the moment. "Me and your mom had our issues and fights. But at the end of the day, it all leads back to this, the five of us being a family, not including the dogs."

"It's hard to picture the two of you not being my parents. Or fighting. You guys don't fight. Like you get mad, but I've never seen a fight," he insists.

"I'm a lot mellower now," Harlowe says. "With Te Koha, it was way different. We were still working on other issues. It might not have always been the prettiest sight for him." She hopes Koha knows she'd take it all back. She'd redo everything if she knew then what she knows now.

Calum nudges her. "They're not shouting matches if I didn't yell back." There's a shit-eating grin on his face.

"I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But you aren't either."

He nods. "She's right," he addresses Nikau. "I wasn't perfect nearly 25 years ago, and I'm not perfect now. But I am better, so is she. Besides, we're too old and tired to argue anymore."

"Mom could probably argue in her sleep," Esha interrupts.

"Not proud of that," Harlowe admits. She's had to get better about voicing herself without yelling. A hard trait from her childhood having always felt like she was looked over. "But I'm much older. I've been a parent for a lot longer. That was hard being a first time parent and then your fiance is gone most of the day, or for months at a time. You almost feel like you're alone. It gets to you; I'm hard-headed and stubborn too like Papa Bear. He tried to get me to move here when we found out Esha was coming. But I was terrified. My parents couldn't really help being on the other side of the country; his parents were halfway across the globe. I was terrified of having to find work at a new university. After a year or two after Esha was born, I felt like I was going insane it felt like. I needed help, a lot of help. We tried therapist after therapist, eventually, I broke down. It was bad. I felt like such a horrible mom."

It hurts less now to admit that, Harlowe thinks. It's just the truth of the matter. The reality she was matched with.

"You're a good mom," Nikau counters.

"Thank you, baby. But I'm okay. It was just the truth of my situation. I'm better now. Besides, I ever tell you, you were a miracle baby."

He shakes his head. "No."

"Yeah, you are. I had a lot of problems when I was pregnant with Esha; delivery was an ordeal. Doctors told me it was a miracle that I lived, others were telling me I would never get pregnant again. It was a lot. I wanted three kids, so badly. So, so, so badly. It was rough, a lot of trips to the doctors. Eventually I just felt useless, unfit. When I finally broke down to Papa Bear in that bathtub, he knew he had to do something. We sold the house in LA, moved in a temporary place back on the east coast. My family helped me, but it was still kind of stressful. Eventually we moved here, found a therapist that was right for me.

"I was still fighting to see if I would have a third kid. Even the doctors here thought it was a coin toss. Nothing seemed to be working. I had truly given up hope. I was thankful and so happy for Koha and Esha, but it still hurt that I wouldn't have that third baby. I kinda stopped going to appointments; wasn't taken the medicine like I should've. Things had just gotten better but also worse. I thought I was pregnant at one point. But I just couldn't bear going to the doctor's for them to tell me it was all in my head. Grandma Joy dragged me to a doctor's appointment after rescheduling and rescheduling and putting it off. She kept telling me that something was happening if only I'd go to the doctors. I just didn't believe it."

"But she was right?" Esha asks.

Harlowe nods. "Of course she was, when isn't she? She asked the doctors to do an ultrasound; she seemed so nervous and excited. I was holding my breath. I was praying I had imagined anything. And then there you were, on the screen." She gently taps the end of Nik's nose. "Inside my belly. I cried, like bawling, sobbing. Snot running. Joy and I were a fucking mess. Calum walked in and I knew it was real. "

"Forty cents," Nik says sternly.

"Sir, yes, sir. I'll get right on that."

"I'm sorry you went through all that Momma." Nikau's cheeks are flushed with tears.

She kisses his forehead. "Don't be; it gave me you."

"Damn, now I'm crying," Esha huffs before walking over to Harlowe. She slides in next to her mother on the couch, head slotting in space between chest and shoulder.

"That's twenty cents, missy," Harlowe laughs. Sissy pops her head up. "Not you, baby. Not you."

"Does Te Koha know about this?" she asks.

"Yeah, he knows. He asked too many questions for us not to tell him," Calum offers with a laugh. The silence lingers for a while before it's broken.

"Esha your turn," Nik says.

She groans. Why did she open her big fat mouth? "She's just a friend right now."

"With tattoos and a leather jacket?" Harlowe asks. Esha can hear the tease dripping from the words.

"I reserve the right not to incriminate myself," she returns. To redirect from her embarrassment, Nikau suggests a movie. Everyone agrees. Harlowe knows that soon though, Nika will be fast asleep. Not before long, his head drops, startling him until he drops into Calum's chest.

"Out like a light," Calum whispers.

After the movie, Nikau's placed into bed. Esha heads out to a friend's house for a party. The house is silent. The dogs are sleep too. Harlowe falls across the bed, releasing a sigh. Calum lies across the mattress, arms draping across her. His torso is bare. She can see some of the tattoo on his ribcage. It's one of the old poems she wrote about him when they first started dating. He got it tattooed about a year ago. Fans have speculated what it is, but neither of them have confirmed it. There's no real need.She runs her fingers up his arms, tracing over the black ink. "You know you're an awesome mum right?" he asks in a whisper.

"I try. That's all I can do."

He finds her forehead, a stretch upwards before planting several kisses. "And you do very well. I'm so proud of you. So," he punctuates the word with a kiss. "So. So. Proud. I know it's not been easy, but with every battle you made it out on the other side."

"I had your help. You were there. You literally are the reason I'm still fucking alive. If you hadn't have moved us, I don't think I would still be walking this earth."

"You're strong. You still would be."

"Listen to me," she starts, sitting up, his arm falls to her lap. "I literally would not be right now in front of you. I felt so alone and so useless but you were there, the entire time. You helped me help myself and that honestly makes me so grateful to have you."

Tears are collecting on his lower lash line. "I saw your hurt; I saw your pain." He sniffles as she brushes the tears from his cheeks. "I had to do something. That's all I was thinking, I can't lose my wife. My kids can't lose their mother. I didn't care if I had to fight hell or high water; I was going to help you whatever way I could. I am so thankful to wake up next to you every day, even when you roast me and nag me. I'm just so grateful you are here. You could've left me 23 years ago. You should've left me; I was being such an asshole, cutting you off like that. But you fucking stayed. You stuck it out through harassment, online hate, rumors. God, the rumors," he sobs into her thighs.

"Sshh, it's okay." She knows what he's referring too. A lot of nasty comments were said when it got publicized that she was pregnant with Koha before any type of engagement or marriage. Calum proposed a few weeks later, after being nervous for months. A lot of people attacked them saying that he only proposed because he didn't want his children to have a broken home. That one tore him apart; he flew back at the comment with a huge paragraph about how much he loved Harlowe and wanted to do right by her. For some it worked, for others, even after decades of being together, they're not convinced.

"Breathe, baby." His shoulders shake beneath her fingertips. "Hey." She tries to coax him up. The cotton of her shorts become wet, her thighs damp with his tears. Her fingers gently scratch over his scalp and nape of this neck. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."

It's a few minutes before Calum collects himself and sits up. She grabs the tissues for the nightstand and wipes his face and nose. "I cannot and will not let you slip through my fingers like that again."

Her focus is locked in on cleaning his face. But Harlowe nods. "I know. I believe you."

"Your shorts," he sighs.

"My shorts literally do not matter. C'mon." They walk into the bathroom. The water drips into the porcelain sink basin, and over the washcloth. He leans against the counter, fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. "I love you; I am in love with you. I am not going to stop love you. It's a choice I am happy to make over and over again."

"I love you too." Harlowe presses the damp cloth to his puffy cheeks. She has never and will never get over how much she can pinch and squeeze them. Right now is not the time though. She restrains herself. "I am in love with you. I have never stop loving you and will never. Even when you're dead and gone, I will love you and nag you for leaving me alone with three kids and three dogs!"

Calum pulls the damp washcloth from my hands and wraps his arms around my waist. "I give you every right to nag me when I'm dead. Though I can't promise I can defend myself." Calum spins us, so I'm up against the counter. He cleans her thighs.

"You do realize I've had piss, shit, blood, and vomit on me. Mother of three kids. Snot is the least of my worries."

"I know," he grins, tossing her a clean pair of shorts from inside the bedroom. "I really just wanted to see your ass jiggle as you change."

"All you have to do is ask. It's not like you have to make excuses anymore."

"It's more fun to make excuses."

Before stepping in the clean shorts, she makes a dramatic show of shaking her bottom in his face. Calum laughs. That's his wife. But he wouldn't have it any other way. It would be boring if she weren't the way she was, if she weren't so loud and boisterious. If she weren't willing to fight every instinct that tells her she's a bad mother. Calum realizes his life, while it tried and tested him, is full because his heart is full.

Harlowe struggles just a little to get the shorts up. Three kids have given Harlowe the hips of her mother, but she does her best to keep in shape. Her body before was long gone after Esha and after Nikau she hasn't bothered trying to chase the old photographs. She settles for just being healthy. That's all she needs to keep up with a 10-year-old now.

She was nervous though after having Te Koha that Calum wouldn't find her as attractive. Her skin had already started to sag just a little, the stretch marks lined her body aggressively. There was no hiding it. Sometimes there was shame, staring her in the mirror. It was shame telling her to she needed what was before. But Calum was always there, always a voice to break through the clouds.

"Let's watch Moana again," Calum suggests, arms encasing her waist. He walks them back to the bed, lips ghosting over the skin of her neck.

"If you fall asleep, I'm taking video and putting it on twitter. And it doesn't get deleted this time. Deal?"

"Deal." They climb into bed and she huddles into his side. Their family watches Moana or Black Panther as a pick me up movie. Koha and Esha were obsessed with Moana, especially after Calum surprised the kids by dressing up as Maui. Nikau was hooked after his first viewing. There are have many videos of Calum with the kids wrapped around him as he sings.

Barely half an hour into the movie, snores hit the air. She called it and with a shake of her head, she finds her phone. Calum, once a rock when he slept, has become more of a lighter sleeper since having the kids. She's grateful that reaching across to her nightstand doesn't wake up. With the camera trained on him, she films for a few seconds. The snores are clear as they escae him.  

Twitter is a hot buzz of activity. Her mentions are littered with her and Calum's handle. It's not unusual for the pair. But Harlowe can see something has happened. She only spends a few minutes to draft the tweet before scrolling the mass of tweets.

Calum's new twitter&insta bio are the fucking cutest, one user gushes. She clicks onto Calum's profile. It takes a second before the full profile loads. Bassist in 5 Seconds Of Summer. Dog father of 3. Human father of 3. Husband to Harlowe. "Speak--" Tears fill her vision for a second. His now matches her, for the most part. She avoided added his name when she said wife leaving it at the capital C. The thing that really gets her is the last part. It's part of the poem he tattooed onto his ribs. She wrote in a buzz, watching him and the band work one day.

They hadn't been officially dating. Though everyone called them the old people couple. It was a testament that still rings true for them. She told Calum that she felt like his soul was blue and not in a bad way. He just had a calming aura about him. He didn't talk a whole lot. But he did have things to say. He just always wanted to make sure that his words were properly together first before he spoke.

Harlowe wanted him to just speak. She watched the way his brows knitted together, his eyes flickering between Michael and Luke discussing the progression. It was like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. She rushed to grab a piece of scrap paper from the center table, amongst all the scribbles of their ideas. She grabbed Calum's pen from his hand and started writing. The letters were sloppy, too big and not fully formed. It slanted down the page because it lacked lines.

Calum was shocked by her sudden outburst, the pen being snatched from his hand. But he could see her wheels turning, how she couldn't get the words down fast enough. He didn't say anything. Harlowe just wanted to him to speak; she could feel the words he was not saying. She was feeling words that she couldn't say but wanted too. It overflowed onto three pages worth.

Harlowe's phone buzzes, snapping her back to reality. It's a text from Esha. Then another one comes through before it shakes with her contact photo lighting up the screen. "Is everything okay?" she asks. There's more panic in her voice than she likes.

Calum reaches out, awake when he heard the first text come through. He thought it was his phone.

"Nothing's wrong, Mom. Did you see Dad's new bios?" The background is loud. Her voice is just barely reaching over the receiver.

She exhales, squeezing Calum's hand. "I just did. Also, I didn't think you kept up with your old parents."

"I have to," she laughs. "I have to help keep you guys hip. But did you see his reply?"

"Reply to what?"

"He replied to someone, Ma. Go to his profile. Swipe to the left to see his tweets and replies. That hasn't changed in the decades twitter has been around."

"I'll check it. Do you need one of us to stay up and grab you after the party?"

"Mom, I'm like three blocks away. I'll be okay."

"Girl, does it-"

"Besides," she interrupts. "Madeline drove here and she's a few beers in. I took her car keys. I'll walk back with her."

"There's plenty of leftovers. If you text me before you leave, I can heat them up for you two."

"Okay. I'll be back by 1 at the latest. Love you."

"Love you too. Be safe and text me!" The call ends; Harlowe is sure Esha didn't hear her.

"Esha?" Calum questions.

Harlowe nods. "Madeline is spending the night, drunk I suspect. Also, you fell asleep. The video is already posted."

"Go figure."

"She called gushing about some twitter activity on your part." Harlowe swipes over, as instructed, to his replies tab. There it is, the recent reply that reads, Raising 3 kids, 3 dogs & keeping my wife happy was a lot more important than my social media. But I figured it was about time that I updated it.

Harlowe scrolls up to see the original tweet, It's been how long? And Calum finally remembered how to update his twitter bio.

Calum pretends to be interested on something on his phone when Harlowe looks up to him. She kneels on the bed, phone dropping to the mattress between then. Her lips are soft against his cheek, then his temple, and finally sealing over his lips. "Have I told you I love you today?"

"Once or twice," he grins. His kiss is short, though his hands travel to her thighs and squeeze. Blindly in their kiss, Calum sets his phone onto the nightstand next to his side. Harlowe straddles his waist, sinking slowly down onto his lap. The boxer briefs and cotton shorts are a thin barrier between them.

____

The house alarm beeps, calling out that the front door has opened. Calum is slow to move his hands away from Harlowe's heat. But she pushes at his bicep. "It's probably Esha."

"I never heard a text come in." His lips ghost over her collarbones.

"Well it sure as hell wasn't Nik sneaking out and back in."

Calum moves off her when she pushes at him again. The alarm clocks read an angry red 12:30.  There's no doubt Esha is not sober. Harlowe uses the bathroom first, door open. There is little need to close it because Calum comes in to wash his hands, gargling quickly with mouthwash.

"Alright, so good cop bad cop our drunk daughter and her friend or just good cop this?" he laughs. The answer is obvious but he knows his wife. She's worried because there was no text. Before sliding into underwear and robes, Calum stops Harlowe, her face already contorting.

"She made it home. That's all that matters."

"I know. I'm a worrywart."

"It's alright. You care." Listening from the top of the stair, the house fills with giggling and Esha shushing. As they descend Harlowe sees Madeline falling into Esha; Esha's using the wall to help take some of the weight off her.

"Sorry I didn't text," Esha sighs. Her eyes are a little glassy, but she doesn't seem too far gone. "I got too caught up in that last game of beer pong. But we fucking won!"

Harlowe hooks Madeline's other arm around her shoulders. "I'm proud. So naked lap for you guys?"

"Hi Mrs. Hood," Madeline giggles.

"No ma'am. You ain't raise a quitter," Esha says.

"Was Jen there?" Calum asks, working on heating up the leftovers for them.

"She left early," Esha pouts. There's a moments pause as both women settle Madeline into the chair. Esha collapses into the seat next to her. "She had an amazing perfume on. We need to go to the mall. I need it."

"Looks like it was a fun party," Harlowe laughs.

Esha rests her head against the wood of the table. "This is so cool. I thought I was melting for a second."

She's definitely drunker than Harlowe and Calum figured. But she's still mostly coherent. Always a good sign. Harlowe grabs both of them an extra tall glass and filling it up with water. "Drink up, girls. You're going to need it."

"Thanks, Mrs. Hood," Madeline giggles, bringing the glass to her lips. Esha stares at her glass for a moment before lifting it to her lips.

. "Good night girls," Calum states. "Be sure to drink some more water before calling it in."

"Your parents are so cute together," Madeline says, a tad loud. It carries up the stairs.

"Ssh! Nik's sleeping," Esha shushes. "But thanks. They're disgusting together sometimes."

"You only say that because you're jealous."

"It's all fun and cute until you see hickeys on your mom's neck and you know your dad put them there," she scoffs.

Calum laughs, too loudly. Harlowe ducks, arms pushed into Calum's back to get him into their bedroom. They might still be visible. Though it would be a miracle for either girl to notice their own hands right in front of them.  "You could've blown our cover," Harlowe reprimands. "You'd make a horrible spy."

"Good thing my job is to be a dad and not a spy."

"Did you ever sneak around behind your parents back? God, your sneak skills are terrible."

"Never had to, really."

"Count your blessings."

"I'm counting on a lot more," his voice drops as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Yeah, Z's because I'm tired and you're a terrible spy."

As he turns around, Harlowe notices the scratch marks she left from earlier. "Z's it is then," he chuckles, settling onto the bed and patting the spot next to him.