#knowing that this pregnancy she just had was high risk and if she gets pregnant again in the next few years and has an emergency
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cripplecharacters · 2 days ago
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Hello, I'm writing a novel and I'm curious if you have any resources or mods that could answer on the topic of full term pregnancy for characters with physical and mental disabilities? The character I'm writing is an amputee (both legs lost to sepsis) who struggles with psychosis/BPD and takes plethora of medications.
Would she have to go cold turkey to carry to term? Would the pregnancy have any negative effect on her physical disability? Just want to get my facts gathered before I start writing something I'm entirely unfamiliar with
Hi asker,
Some medicines are never safe during pregnancy because they have a proven high risk of miscarriage or serious risk to the developing baby.
But many more medicines are taken during pregnancy even if they can carry risk to the pregnant person or the baby. That's because they help the person using them so much, that the risk of not taking them is higher. They may modify doses or monitor themselves or the baby more often. So no, she does not necessarily have to go cold turkey to carry to term.
Some sources for more information:
Medicine and Pregnancy: an Overview by the CDC (US site)
Medicines During Pregancy on MyAlberta (Canada site)
You specifically mention psychosis, so maybe your character takes antipsychotics. There has been a lot of fear that antipsychotics can cause birth defects/abnormalities or miscarriages, but more recently many people are encouraged to stay on them while pregnant.
I haven't read fully through these, but they should be informative:
Use of Antipsychotic Drugs During Pregnancy on NIH (US site)
Antipsychotics in Pregnancy and Breastfeeding on RC Psych (UK site)
Antipsychotic Use in Pregnancy on NIH (US site).
There is no BPD-specific medication, so I can't really specify anything else. Some amputees take medications, and some don't, so I can't specify there either. If you know what your character takes, you can google their specific medication types + pregnancy. People get pregnant all the time, so this is not an uncommon avenue of thought.
Either way, this varies depending on what your character specifically takes. But ultimately, there is no absolute requirement that she must go cold turkey to carry to term.
Hope this helps,
mod sparrow
Hi!
One issue she could experience as an amputee is related to prosthesis fitting - I'll assume that she uses them since you didn't mention her being a wheelchair user. During pregnancy she'd probably gain weight, which might mean she will need to visit her prosthetist to make sure it's comfortable for her to walk in. She might also experience more swelling in her residual limbs, which basically means the same thing - depending on how much changes her body goes through, she might have to make a few trips. This is especially true if she's an above the knee amputee rather than below.
Amputee Coalition has a page on pregnancy that you can check out, with some possible timelines that are currently recommended (especially helpful since it sounds like your story is set in modern times).
Hope this helps!
mod Sasza
Hello! I'm someone with diagnosed schizoaffective disorder in remission and BPD keeps getting thrown at as a possibility for a diagnosis for me, and medication for BPD can range from nothing to a combination of antidepressants and antipsychotics, antipsychotics being front line for any psychotic symptoms or disorder. I have had doctors plan with me as the antipsychotic I am on (vraylar) is unsafe for pregnancy however olanzapine is often considered safer. Generally for someone on heavy-duty medication there is a safer drug in the same class their doctor switches them to and closely monitors their progress and health from pregnancy to breastfeeding.
-Mod Bert
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lovecolibri · 18 days ago
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#gonna start d20 soon and i'll be live blogging that but i just got home and was hit with such a wave of grief about today.#thinking about my young brother and his young wife and knowing who they likely voted for. who her dad and my other brothers voted for.#knowing that this pregnancy she just had was high risk and if she gets pregnant again in the next few years and has an emergency#if she will be able to get treatment that saves her life or her her husband and father and brother-in-law that live with her#and maybe she herself signed her death warrant#thinking about my other sister-in-law who works as a surgical tec and does emergency deliveries#and wondering what side of the line she falls on. what side my brother falls on.#thinking about growing up in church and being a person filled with empathy and compassion for others#and watching people i respected and people i grew up with side with some of the most hateful ideals#out of what is ultimately fucking selfishness and wanting to scream and rail at them but knowing it makes no difference#because they just do not fucking care#thinking about the upcoming holidays and the casual homophobia thrown about as jokes#by white men who have never had to face down even the most basic of oppressions#knowing that any attempt to speak out means getting ganged up on by at least 5 people who just loooove being the calm whip smart debaters#because they don't have a dog in the fight and love 'winning' while i get so easily flustered and lose my train of thought#thinking about the fact my mom would rather allow a narcissist and t*ump supporter to live in our home#(that i pay the majority of the bills for) rather than put her foot down about him getting his own place#because i am and always have had to be the 'good' child who didn't make a fuss so the boys could be kept happy#otherwise nothing could ever get done and she cares more about making sure HE is doing okay and not struggling#than if i feel safe and comfortable in my own fucking home#ANYWAY#gonna eat and get in comfy clothes and watch something that reminds me there are normal people out there in the world
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buttercuparry · 14 days ago
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Urgent!! Fundraiser extremely low in donations.
I want to talk to you today about Maram Ashour ( @ashourmohammed ). She is Amal Ashour’s sister-in-law and has been in dire need of our help for a month now. I realised today how important it is to try and make everyday the best for a campaign, because at any moment, a family can be cut off from the outside world. It can be because they lost a phone, or it was damaged. Maram wanted to talk to you all so bad and share her story, but her phone screen was burned and she couldn't campaign as much as she wanted to. So now that she has tried her best to reach out again, please just give her 5 minutes of your time. 
Maram is only 26 years old and she has been forced to go through unimaginable pain for more than a year now. 
She has two very young kids: Amir and Hoor. Hoor is only 10 months old, which means she was born during the genocide. Maram had to go through unimaginable pain during her pregnancy. 
I want to remind you that this genocide is a feminist issue, too. Expecting mothers were forced to give birth in awful and unhygienic conditions, where they risked death. Women lacked both food and medicine and newborn babies couldn't  breastfeed properly  because their mothers were malnourished.
Maram was heavily pregnant when she was displaced from North Gaza. Currently her family  is living in a torn tent in Nuseirat, which we know is prone to IOF attacks. Being very close to the Netzarim corridor, there are frequent explosions and the family is under constant threat of displacement. 
With the temperature dropping rapidly, Maram is scared for her children. She might need to replace the tent and she will definitely need to buy blankets. Your contribution will also help Maram provide little Hoor with milk and diapers. Amir, who is only 3 years of age, needs new clothes for winter. 
I know that things have been difficult lately but still we should not give up on the Palestinian cause or blame Gazans for the rise of fascist sentiments in the Imperial core. Gaza is being bombed continuously and mothers are still clutching at their kids in fear. Not many of us here have known this evil, and so as privileged citizens of this world ( privileged to not face an escalating genocide), it is our duty to continue to stand in solidarity.  So please donate, even if it is a little. It might make a difference between life and death for Maram. 
Only £2,155 raised currently. Please let us get to £3,000 as soon as possible. 
Vetted by association through @amalashuor
Tagging for reach 🙏🏽 very low in funds
@appsa @timetravellingkitty @schoolhater 
@heydreamchild @malcriada @jezior0 @neptunerings
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@armysurplus @executing @venus-is-in-bloom @lesbianmaxevans 
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@thatsonehellofabird @a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @galactic-mermaid
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pedrospatch · 1 year ago
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a safe haven l nine
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist
summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.
word count: 11.8k
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October, 2024
It’s the middle of October.
By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound. 
If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.
So, so much fucking worse. 
It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend. 
Pretend everything is okay.
Pretend it doesn’t hurt.
Pretend you don’t feel empty.
Pretend you don’t need him.
But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.
The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.
“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”
You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.
With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.
Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”
“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”
“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.
“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”
You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.
“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”
“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”
Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”
Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”
Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”
She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.
Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.
It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.
“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”
She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”
Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”
“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.
Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”
“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”
He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”
She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”
“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”
Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand. 
“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”
Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”
Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”
Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”
“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”
Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.
“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”
“What ‘bout Luke?”
“He doesn’t either.”
“But—”
“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”
Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”
You silently mull over the offer for a second.
“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”
“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”
“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”
Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”
“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”
You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.
“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”
Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”
The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.
As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.
“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”
Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.
“She okay?”
“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”
He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.
Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.
Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.
“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”
You stare at her, your lips parting slightly.  “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”
Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”
“It was recent.”
“How recent?”
Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—
“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.
The last time you had your period was in August.
August. 
Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time. 
Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”
You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”
She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”
Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.
It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.
You can’t have children. 
With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.
Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.
“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”
You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.
Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.
Your blood runs cold in your veins.
You’re pregnant. 
Luke hasn’t touched you in months.
And you’re pregnant. 
Luke hasn’t touched you in months. 
And you are fucking pregnant. 
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Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.
“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”
She waits, only to be met with complete silence.
“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”
Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.
“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”
Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”
His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not answering me.”
Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”
Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.
“What? What is it?”
“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”
Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”
Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”
“The door locked?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”
Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”
Silence. 
“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”
Nothing. 
“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”
Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his.
You can’t speak. You can’t move.
All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified. 
“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”
“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”
Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”
Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”
Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”
Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.
“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.
And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.
No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.
They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.
“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”
“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”
“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”
“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”
You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”
“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.
“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.
Or else he was going to fucking kill you.
Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”
Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.
“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”
There’s no way around it. Around any of it.
You have to tell them. 
Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”
The couple waits expectantly.
“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.
Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”
“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”
And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.
Luke’s violence towards you.
Your romantic affair with Joel.
Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.
Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.
You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.
“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.
After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”
His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.
“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”
“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”
You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.
Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”
Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.
“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”
“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”
Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.
Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”
“Yes.”
You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”
You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.
“What are you talking about, Tommy?”
He sighs again.
“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”
“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”
Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”
Victim. 
The word makes you cringe.
“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”
“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”
“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”
“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.
You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”
“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”
“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”
“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”
“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.
“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”
You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.
“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”
“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”
Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”
Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”
Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”
You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.
“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”
“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”
Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”
Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”
“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”
“Yes, I can—”
He cuts you off with a pleading look.
“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”
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You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.
“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.
Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”
“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”
“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”
“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”
Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”
You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.
“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”
He immediately shot you an apologetic look.
“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”
Heat flooded your face and neck.
“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”
Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”
“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”
Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”
Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”
The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.
Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.
“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”
All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.
You don’t remember cooking dinner.
You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.
You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.
It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.
“You’re still up?”
You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.
Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.
“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.
“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.
You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.
Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.
Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.
He wanted you to figure it out.
“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”
“Yes. I did.”
“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”
“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”
Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”
Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.
No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?
Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.
Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”
Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”
You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.
No, you can’t let him do this to you.
You can’t let him touch you.
He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.
“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”
He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.
Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”
“Excuse me?”
“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”
“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”
Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”
He draws closer and closer. Much too close.
“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”
Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.
“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”
Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.
Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy. 
“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.
Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.
You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
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“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.” 
Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.
He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.
The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”
That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.
“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.
After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.
“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.
“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”
“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”
Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”
Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.
“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”
“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”
Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”
His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.
“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”
Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”
“Right ‘bout what?”
“‘Bout Luke.”
Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.
“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”
His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.
“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”
Joel’s mind begins to race.
What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?
Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.
“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”
“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.
Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”
“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”
“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him. 
Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.
How did he fucking know about that? 
“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”
“She did?”
“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”
“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”
Tommy shakes his head.
“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”
“She wants you to let him stay?”
“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”
“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”
“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”
Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.
Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.
But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.
Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?
“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”
He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.
Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.
“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”
“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”
The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.
Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.
He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”
“Then what?”
“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”
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That had been a lot easier said than done.
Joel needed to talk to you.
He needed to fucking see you. 
But his brother had been adamant.
“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.” 
Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.
As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.
Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.
You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.
He just fucking knows it.
Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.
“Ellie?” He calls out.
Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”
“C’mere, kiddo.”
Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.
Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”
Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”
“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”
Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”
“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”
“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”
“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”
When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”
Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”
The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”
“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.
Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”
Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”
“Go away!”
Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”
“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”
“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”
Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”
He hears the lock click almost instantly.
Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”
You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.
“Move, Joel!”
“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.
Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.
Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”
Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”
Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.
Maria gasps into her hands. “God.” 
“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.
Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.
He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.
No one has the chance to speak.
No one has the chance to think.
No one even has the chance to breathe.
Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.
You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”
Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”
Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.
“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.
“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”
But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”
Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.
He isn’t going to let him live.
Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.
“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”
Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.
“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.
“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”
Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”
Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.
“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”
“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.
Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.
“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”
Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”
Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.
Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”
Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”
“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.
“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”
Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”
“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”
“I don’t fuckin’ care—”
Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.
“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”
You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”
Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”
Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.
“What?” 
Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. “It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.
“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”
“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”
Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.
Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”
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“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.
She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.
Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”
“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”
“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”
Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.
“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”
“A little?” she scoffs.
“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.
Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”
“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”
You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.
After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.
Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”
“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.
“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”
He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”
“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”
He still doesn’t answer her question.
All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.
“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.
She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”
Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”
“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.
Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.
You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.
On top of everything else he’d been through with you.
No, because of you. And now this?
Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.
“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”
“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.
Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”
“How long have you known?”
“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.
“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”
It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.
“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”
Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.
“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”
Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.
Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this? 
This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.
“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”
You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”
“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”
You almost smile.
Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.
“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”
“Joel—”
He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”
Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”
Now it's his turn to be taken aback.
“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”
“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”
He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”
Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. 
“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.
Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.
“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”
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kayhi808 · 22 days ago
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I got an ask for ya. I don't think anyone has asked this but I apologize if answered this...
What about if Mama gets pregnant? Will Abbie Rose be happy? How will Bucky react? Maybe he thought he would be able to get Mama pregnant because of his Hydra past. U can do with this what u will. Thank u, and I love our little family. Superb writing as always. B
Thank you, B!! 🥰 Wow! There's so much here to work with. Someone did ask about Abby being a big sister. In theory, she's so excited...in reality there might be big adjustment / jealousy issues our little family will need to work through. I'll try to find a link. Proud Papa Toys for New Baby
You're sitting on the bathroom floor, the chill from the tiles seeping into your skin. Tears silently tracking down your cheeks. You just finished a battle with nausea & dry heaves.
You jump at the light knocking on the bathroom door, "Doll? Are you ok?" Bucky could hear your heavings & stuttered breath. "Can I come in?" He tries the door and it's locked. He's about to panic when he hears the soft click of the lock. He slowly opens the door to find you on the floor & he closes the door, not wanting Abby to see you like this. "What's wrong?" Kneeling by your side, rubbing little circles onto your back.
"I got sick."
"Do you want me to take you to the med bay?" After the wedding, you and Abby moved into The Tower with Bucky.
"I'm also...late."
"Late for what?" You roll your eyes and cry harder. "Oh. OH!"
"I'm about 2 1/2 weeks late and..and I just threw up. I didn't think too much about being late because the stress of the wedding, moving here..."
In a stunned whisper, "And I told you I couldn't have children."
"You said that with HYDRA...the serum..."
"Its not possible."
"You're the only man I've been with! If I'm pregnant, the baby is yours."
Bucky frowns at you, "Of course the baby is mine! Did you think I'd question that?!"
"I don't know! I'm just scared."
"Shit," gathering you in his arms, "Doll, you're so..."
"Don't call me crazy!"
Kissing you on the forehead, "Wouldn't dream of it." His hand rest on your abdomen. "Do you really think you could be pregnant?"
Your sobs turn to hiccups, "I think I am."
Bucky picks you up and carries you back to bed, "We'll get you tested first thing in the morning, but for now, try and get more sleep. Don't worry about Abby, I'll get her ready for school & drop off. Get your rest." He pulls you back up against him. His hand still resting on your belly.
******
"Any word?" You jump at the sound of Bucky's voice from your doorway. "Sorry."
"Not yet." Bucky leans down for a kiss.
"Were you able to keep anything down today?"
"I had toast and some soup. I'm good." Your phone rings and caller ID say it's Dr. Cho. "It's her! It's her!"
Bucky runs back to shut the door & rushes to your side. "Mrs. Barnes."
"Hi Dr. Cho. I have you on speakerphone, Bucky is here."
"Sargent Barnes. Congratulations are in order." Both you and Bucky turn to each other wide eyed. "Baby Barnes should arrive early February of next year."
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"Oh my God."
"Holy Fuck," you swat Bucky's arm. "Sorry! That's great news! Thank you so much."
"It is great news but I will be classifying this as a high risk pregnancy. We don't know the effects the serum will have on the baby. You'll need to be monitored closely."
"Of course, whatever you think is best!"
"I'll have a checkup calendar sent to you and Sgt Barnes."
"Yes, thank you so much!" You hang up the phone and Bucky's already swept you up in his arms.
"I put a baby in you." He laughs, "A super baby."
@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly
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fairy-writes · 4 months ago
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MY BEST GIRL
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8 
Pairing(s): Hibino Kafka x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Reader is smaller than Kafka, Childbirth
Notes: The title is inspired by what Steve Rogers said to Peggy Carter in “The Winter Soldier.”
PART ONE LINKED HERE
__________________________________________________________________________
Ichikawa Reno knew something was off about Hibino Kafka when he came to work the next day, obviously sullen and downtrodden. He kept fidgeting with his wedding ring, something Reno knew he only did when he had something on his mind.
But he wouldn’t say anything.
At least, not until Iharu found out about his marriage three months later.
“You’re WHAT?!” He gaped at Kafka, who looked spooked. His chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth, and he glanced around at the room, which had gone dead silent in shock.
“I’m what?” He asked, dumbfounded until Iharu lunged across the table to grab his left hand and point at the wedding band.
“Reno said you’re married! Since when?!” He demanded, and now everyone was getting interested. Conversations petered out as they all looked over at the commotion.
Kafka noticed everyone staring and promptly panicked. Reno couldn’t help but hide a smile at his flushed pink face and neck.
“We’ve been married for four years! Together for eight!” He squawked awkwardly, and Iharu recoiled as if smacked.
“No way! I don’t believe you!” He complained and looked to Reno, “You don’t believe him either, right?!” He asked, and Reno shrugged.
“I’ve met her. She’s nice.” Was all he said.
That caused an explosion of noise. 
And Reno noticed that Kafka snuck out in the middle of it all.
Of course, he followed him! He waited until Haruichi and Iharu were bickering and slipped out to find Kafka sitting against the wall just outside the dining room, staring blankly at his phone screen.
It was a picture of the both of you, his hand on your belly as the two of you celebrated finding out about your pregnancy. It was the one thing Kafka never shut up about until suddenly, he just stopped talking about it altogether. In fact, Reno was fairly certain that no one besides him and Kafka even knew about it.
Just what had happened?
“Is everything okay?” He asked and Kafka jumped, slamming his head back against the wall.
“Oh, Ichikawa! Yeah… Everything just… Got a bit noisy, is all.” He mumbled the last bit and that’s when Reno knew something was really wrong.
But, as clever as he was, he didn’t know how to make it better.
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Hibino Kafka rolled over in bed until he was on his back and stared at the ceiling. 
His apartment felt empty. 
Cold.
He felt alone.
It had been four months since he had last seen you. By now, you would’ve been close to thirty-somewhat weeks along in your pregnancy. Had you picked out a name? Had you learned the gender yet? What was going to happen to your relationship with him? Were you really going to throw eight years down the drain?
He was just on the edge of dozing when his phone buzzed. He slapped a hand over it, dragging it closer to his face as he rolled onto his side.
Who was texting so late?
Probably Furuhashi sending a cat meme or something…
But it was like a bucket of cold water had been splashed in his face as he read the text.
It was from Haru. Your best friend and older brother. His brother-in-law.
“She’s in labor. She needs you.” 
Straight and to the point, just like he knew Haru to be. Another text and this time it was the address to the hospital. But Kafka already knew how to get there. He could do it with his eyes closed. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and shoes and was out the door before he could even really process what was happening.
You were in labor.
But it was too early! An entire month early! Sure, the baby was likely going to survive, but would you? You were a high-risk pregnancy, especially with this being your first!
Would you be okay?
He made it to the hospital in record time. He all but sprinted up to the labor and delivery ward and met Haru in the hallway. He stopped him in his tracks.
“You came.” He said bluntly, and Kafka huffed,
“Of course I did. Is she okay?” He demanded, and Haru gestured to the room.
“See for yourself.”
He checked in with the nurse coming out of your room, explaining that he was your husband and that you were asking for him. He barely said his name before the nurse ushered him into the room.
You were tired. That much was obvious. The midwife patted the sweat on your forehead with a damp towel, coaxing you through a contraction as you clenched your fists in the blanket as the wave of pain washed over you. But when you heard the door open and shut, you opened your eyes and spotted him. 
“You came.” You whispered, and he gently took the midwife’s spot next to your bed, reaching out to hold your hand. He ignored the pain of your hand squeezing the life out of his and instead smiled, 
“I couldn’t leave my best girl. Not when she needs me.” He replied and saw tears well up in your eyes. 
“But I’ve been horrible to you!” You begin to cry, and he hushes you softly, gently, like he is quieting your child, who is going to be here soon. 
“I made a vow when I married you, didn’t I? I promised I’d be there for you no matter what!” He said firmly but no less gently than he had before. 
Another contraction and the doctor instructed you to push. You let out a guttural scream as you tried with all your might. 
And a baby cried. 
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maaarine · 11 months ago
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Scientists Pinpoint Cause of Severe Morning Sickness (Azeen Ghorayshi, The New York Times, Dec 13 2023)
"More than two-thirds of pregnant women experience nausea and vomiting during the first trimester.
And roughly 2 percent of women are hospitalized for a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum, which causes relentless vomiting and nausea throughout the entire pregnancy.
The condition can lead to malnutrition, weight loss and dehydration.
It also increases the risk of preterm birth, pre-eclampsia and blood clots, threatening the life of the mother and the fetus.
Perhaps because nausea and vomiting are so common in pregnancy, doctors often overlook hyperemesis, dismissing its severe symptoms as psychological, even though it is the leading cause of hospitalization during early pregnancy, experts said.
Although celebrities like Kate Middleton and Amy Schumer have raised the condition’s profile in recent years by sharing their experiences, it remains understudied.
“I’ve been working on this for 20 years and yet there are still reports of women dying from this and women being mistreated,” said Dr. Marlena Fejzo, a geneticist at the University of Southern California Keck School of Medicine and a co-author of the new study.
She knows the pain of the condition firsthand.
During her second pregnancy, in 1999, Dr. Fejzo was unable to eat or drink without vomiting.
She rapidly lost weight, becoming too weak to stand or walk.
Her doctor was dismissive, suggesting she was exaggerating her symptoms to get attention.
She was eventually hospitalized, and miscarried at 15 weeks. (…)
The researchers found that women experiencing hyperemesis had significantly higher GDF15 levels during pregnancy than did those who had no symptoms.
But the hormone’s effect seems to depend on the woman’s sensitivity and exposure to the hormone before pregnancy.
The researchers found, for example, that women in Sri Lanka with a rare blood disorder causing chronically high levels of GDF15 rarely experienced nausea or vomiting in pregnancy.
“It completely obliterated all the nausea. They pretty much have next to zero symptoms in their pregnancies,” said Dr. Stephen O’Rahilly, an endocrinologist at Cambridge who led the research.
Dr. O’Rahilly hypothesized that prolonged exposure to GDF15 before pregnancy could have a protective effect, making women less sensitive to the sharp surge in the hormone caused by the developing fetus. (…)
The new study is powerful because it offers genetic proof of a causal relationship between GDF15 and the disease, said Dr. Rachel Freathy, who is a geneticist at the University of Exeter and was not involved in the study.
That will help the condition gain greater recognition, she said.
“There is kind of an assumption made by many people that women should just be able to cope with this,” Dr. Freathy said.
With this biological explanation, she said, “there will be more belief that this is a real thing rather than something in somebody’s head.”"
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ramp-it-up · 7 months ago
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II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait 
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much? 
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now? 
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you. 
And he wanted to make it up to you. 
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier. 
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 
He kissed your hand again. 
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now. 
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
Hit reblog if you like it!
Next part Here
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phoward89 · 9 months ago
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Based on this ask
Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus Snow, Young Politician!Coriolanus Snow, Coriolanus and Reader are 25 in this.
Warnings! Cussing, Premature labor, mention of suicide, mention of death, heavy angst, underage smoking um I think that's it...
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Hate That I Love You
There's an old saying that goes 'There's a fine line between love and hate'. An old saying that would ring true about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow.
Coriolanus needed to marry for power and money in order to cement his path to political (presidential) success. Which is why he married you.
Lucky you…
Anyways, he brokered an arranged marriage with your step-father, who was a high ranking general in the Peacekeepers, by reminding him that your real father Colonel Halvir had served with his father, General Crassus Snow. That they had died together in the woods of 12 by the hands of rebels and it's only fitting that the heirs of both military greats marry.
Honestly, he just wanted your step-father’s money and political support. What better way to get a seat on the war council then to marry the step-daughter of the Head Of The War Department.
Yea, your step-father was given that position after Dr. Gaul met a tragic and accidental death. It's such a pity that she ‘accidently’ slipped and fell into a tank of deadly mutts.
Well, Coriolanus was given her position as Head Gamemaker at only 23 while your family got an even bigger boost in political power.
Of course, your step-father agreed to the match. Your mother was leery about it and your older brother, Rein, honestly didn't give a shit since he was off in one of the districts serving as a peacekeeper. Your younger half-brother, Darius, thought that you were marrying a cold blooded snake.
Oh, how he couldn't be more spot on if he tried.
9 months of marriage (7 of them being pregnant) and your husband was still cold and offish to you. He seemed to avoid you, unless he wanted to get his dick wet.
Hell, he even avoided eating meals with you.
It was a miracle that he even ate Sunday dinners with you, considering he would grab the plate you made up for him and take it to his private study to eat.
All alone and locked away from you. As if you disgusted him.
You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you, because it did. It hurts (especially since you were pregnant) having a husband that hates you. What makes it worse is that you fell in love with the cold hearted bastard. You don't even know how you managed to do that, but you did.
And on top of everything, your pregnancy wasn't the easiest one either. Even though you’re young, you've been extremely stressed (of course you're stressed, look at who your husband is) and your OBGYN told you that you needed to calm down or else you'd be at risk for a few health issues.
Mostly high blood pressure and…well…you didn't even want to think about the other one the doctor mentioned.
Of course, since your husband’s too busy campaigning for the Senate (he claimed that he needed to become a Senator before he could even think about running for President) he never went to any of your appointments. He offered though. He always offered to go with you, but you always waved him off and told him to worry about his campaign.
That you'd be fine going to the doctor by yourself.
But the truth was, you just couldn't handle pretending to be a happy couple in at the doctor's office. It was easier to let everyone at OBGYN’s office to believe that Coriolanus was busy with his political ambitions along with being the head gamemaker then having them see how uninterested he was in your pregnancy.
How fake his smiles were; how his hands shook with disgust when holding yours.
You were afraid the little cracks in the facade you put on with Coriolanus for the public would crack in the doctor's office. It was too much of a close, intimate setting for the cracks not to be easily hidden.
It wasn't like when he drags you around to galas, showing you off on your arm to the right people only to shoo you off to talk to the rich Capitol housewives. You didn't spend too much time at galas with him. You spent your time playing the part of a pretty perfect housewife that got along with other rich women while your husband spent his time networking.
Talk about your husband, Coriolanus was currently in staring at his reflection in the floor length mirror near the closet while tying his red and black damask tie in a Windsor knot. He looked perfectly handsome today. His platinum hair (Which you were shocked to find out was natural. Say what?!) was perfectly styled and slicked back with gel and his face was freshly shaved. Like always, he was dressed in one of his custom suits that cost more than what somebody in the mines, fields, and factories of the districts made in a month.
It was a black one with a matching waistcoat. Which was a far cry from all white and various shades of red he wore.
Hell, it wasn't just him that wore white and various shades of red, but you too since he deemed what dresses were in your closet. Eh, at least he had his cousin design you some pink dresses to wear in-between all the white and reds he curses you with.
Pink was your favorite color, but you know that he's got no clue. Having his cousin design a few pink dresses for you was just a coincidence.
It didn't mean anything.
As Coriolanus tied his tie with a Windsor knot, his icy blue eyes watched you from the mirror. You were across the room, sitting at the your vanity. Your were brushing your hair and looked a bit lost in your thoughts.
He wanted you ask you what was on your mind, but he was…
Scared.
Yes, he was scared to put himself in a situation where he had to have an actual conversation with you outside of the clipped responses and simple questions that are detrimental to married life.
Coriolanus was afraid that if he talked, truly talked with you, then the well kept secret he's been keeping for the last few months would come spilling out. That he'd have to confront his feelings for you because he knew that once he started to listen to you share your thoughts that he'd be a goner.
That his hard, cold mask he wears around you would shatter.
He just couldn't have that.
He couldn't allow himself to admit that he's in love with you.
Coriolanus swore to himself that he'd never fall in love again. That he'd never give somebody so much power and control over him and his emotions ever again.
That he'd never make himself become weak for a woman.
After Lucy Gray broke his heart by betraying him, manipulating him, and using him to keep her ungrateful ass alive, he swore off love.
Love was painful.
He learned that the hard way.
Love was a weakness that he couldn't afford.
So, he decided to marry somebody that he felt that he'd never be able to love. Somebody that he could even hate. And that's why he picked you.
Yes, your step-father was a very prominent general, but it was your mother's blood running in your veins that made you the perfect candidate for marriage. It was the worst best kept secret in the Capitol that your mother, Helenium, had baby trapped your father, an officer in the peacekeepers, into marrying to rise out of poverty in District 12. The fact that you had district blood, not any district but 12, blood running in your veins was reason enough for Coriolanus to hate you.
So, assuming that he'd hate you til her grew old and died, he approached your step-father about marrying you.
Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate how easy you truly were to fall in love with.
Fuck!
He hated it.
Coriolanus hated having feelings for you.
He didn't like feelings.
He refuses to acknowledge them.
As long as he ignored his feelings then he couldn't get hurt. You couldn't hurt him.
He's never let himself get hurt over love ever again.
Coriolanus was about to turn away from the mirror and walk out of the room, but stopped himself whenever he heard your breath hitch and saw you quickly place your hand on your rounded belly.
Was something wrong? The last time you had a doctor's appointment he intended to take the morning off, but you insisted that he meet with his political team and work on his Senate campaign. But when he got home he asked you how the appointment went and you told him everything was fine.
Did you lie to him?
Turning around to look at you, he asked, “Are you alright, Y/N?”
You powered through the sharp pain and nodded, “I'm fine, Coriolanus.”
“Are you sure?” Your husband asked, starting to make his way over to you with worry in his striking blue eyes.
“I'm sure, Coriolanus.” You lied.
You weren't fine. You were having sharp pains; felt a bit nervous too since you were only 7 months along in your pregnancy. But, you couldn't tell your husband that.
Coriolanus was as cold as his name- Snow.
He didn't give a fuck about you.
Hell, you could die in childbirth and he wouldn't even care. He'd just hire a nanny to raise his heir, your baby boy Cassian Xandros, and then he'd just find somebody else to marry. Somebody else to hate and make miserable.
You felt that Coriolanus wouldn't shed a single tear if something went wrong and you died in childbirth. That he wouldn't mourn you, wouldn't give a shit if your headstone was overrun with weeds and overgrowth.
You were so wrong though. So very wrong about that.
Coriolanus would be utterly heartbroken if he lost you the same way he lost his mother and baby sister. He'd blame himself.
He'd be eating a bullet and joining you in that graveyard, making your son an orphan, if you died in childbirth.
A thin, but fake smile, graces your lips as you assured him, “I'm fine, Coriolanus. It's probably just braxton hicks or something.” You felt him stop right next to you as you set your brush down. His shadow fell over you, but you refused to look up at him. Instead you reached for your powder compact.
Coriolanus gave it to you as a gift after you told him you were pregnant. It was silver and had roses engraved on it. The face powder inside of it smelled like roses too.
Unknown to you, him giving you that compact was his love language.
It belonged to his mother.
The first time he gave it to somebody it was filled with poison to help that manipulative performer of a bitch Lucy Gray to cheat in the arena during the 10th Hunger Games.
The second time he gave it to somebody, the reasoning wasn't twisted, but was genuine. Coriolanus thoroughly cleaned his mother's compact, filled it with rose scented face powder, and gave it to you after learning that you were carrying his child.
He gave it to you because you made him happy. Because you were giving him a family.
It was also the moment when he realized he didn't hate you at all, but actually had feelings for you.
Coriolanus would never admit it, but your pregnancy wasn't a happy one for him. He imagined that he'd be more involved, but you were pushing him so hard to focus on his campaign.
Even though he avoided talking to you for longer then he had to, he still wanted to be involved with your pregnancy. Maybe the next one’ll be happier since he won't be campaigning.
And yes, he planned on having at least one more child with you. Cassian Xandros needed a sibling after all.
Opening the compact and grabbing the puff inside, you told your husband, “I'm fine, really.” Patting the puff into the compact’s powder, you urge him to leave. “If you don't go, you'll be late for your political meetings and duties as head Gamemaker.”
Coriolanus nodded, only to rub your shoulder and say, “If you need me, call me.”, before pivoting on his heel and walking out of your master bedroom.
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You thought that your pains would ease up, but they didn't. As the day progressed, so did they.
It got to the point that as you gazed outside the window, looking at the bustling city streets below, you debated on whether or not to call your husband.
Coriolanus told you to call him if you needed him. But, did you need him? Maybe. Hell, you didn't know. All you knew was that he didn't care about you; would probably be upset that you called him. He was a busy man; you doubt that he actually meant it when he told you to call him.
He probably just said it because it was the husbandly thing to say to a wife that seemed upset.
He didn't mean it. No, he was cold and unfeeling towards you so the less you bothered him the better.
Coriolanus was busy preparing for the start of the games and running a Senate campaign. He didn't need to be bothered by you and your pains.
You let out cry, feeling like a thunderbolt has struck your side. Oh god, the pains were getting worse.
Clenching your teeth, you turned away from the window to shuffle over to the phone.
You weren't going to call your husband. No, you couldn't do that. But, maybe you could call your doctor instead.
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You never called your doctor.
Your sure as hell didn't call your Coriolanus either.
Instead, your 17 year old brother did. And that call, well, it gutted your husband.
He just replayed it over and over again in his mind as he rushed to the hospital (opting to snag the car keys from his driver, Bentley, and just gun it to Capitol General Hospital himself).
“This is Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow, to whom am I speaking with?” Coriolanus answered his office phone, like he always did, with a polite but professional greeting.
“Coriolanus, bro, it's Darius-” Your brother began to say, only for the aspiring senator to cut him off with a question of, “Darius, what are you calling me for? Shouldn't you be in class at the Academy right now?”
“Dude, you're the damn Head Gamer, did you forget how the top students are stuck mentoring tributes from districts without Victor's to act as mentors?” Darius asked in a ‘duh, you're an idiot’ type of tone. “I'm stuck being a mentor for District 8 and was given half the day off to go to the Tribute Housing center to make sure everything's all prepared and shit. So, before going over to that shit hole of a glorified hotel, I went to visit my sister, but I found her passed out and bleeding. I had to call the medics.”
Coriolanus’ couldn't believe his ears. You passed out and bleeding! Were you alright? Were you hurt? Was something wrong with the baby? Were you downplaying your pains this morning so he'd go to work instead of staying home with you?
So many questions ran through his platinum blonde head, but before he could string his thoughts together to form a coherent sentence, Darius told him, “You need to get to the hospital quick, Coriolanus. I'm just her brother and can't make any medical decisions for her since she's married to you.” Your little brother let out a shaky breath. “They saved the baby; it's in the NICU cause it came so early, but it's touch and go with Y/N.”
“What?...” Coriolanus let out in a whooshing breath.
Touch and go…
Did that mean?...
No…
No!
He couldn't lose you. Not now, not when he finally realized that he didn't hate you at all, but truly did love you with every fiber of his being.
“I’ll be right there. Thank you for calling, Darius.”
“Don't thank me, Coriolanus.” Darius spat, only to go on a long rant of, “I only called you because I can't make medical decisions for my sister and the hospital staff’s pussies that are too scared shitless of you to do it. If it was up to me, I wouldn't have called cause you're a cold hearted snake that doesn't deserve my sister. Y/N deserved a man that actually cares about her, not somebody that just takes her off a shelf and plays with her like a fucking doll when the mood hits.”
All Coriolanus could do was blink as his brother-in-law hung up on him.
Coriolanus' knuckles were holding onto the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip as he broke every traffic law known to man to get to the hospital.
The fact that he could lose you just like he lost his mother was fucking with his head. It was breaking him in ways that he never knew he could be broken.
Love is a painful thing. Love hurts. Love is the only thing to bring him to his knees. A feeling that he hates.
A feeling that he's tried to avoid.
But he couldn't avoid his feelings for you anymore.
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Once he reached the hospital, Coriolanus inquired about your room, only to rush to your side. When he reached your room, you were hooked up to some machines and monitors.
Your little brother, Darius, was by your side. He was smoking a cigarette (which is not allowed in a hospital, by the way) while watching the Makary Show, which was a TV talk show where district women dragged peacekeepers and Capitol men they claimed were their baby daddies to do paternity tests.
“You can't smoke in here, Darius.” Coriolanus told your little brother while making his way to your bedside.
“It's a private room, cause the name Snow gets the VIP treatment, so it ain't like anyone's gonna complain bout it.”
“Y/N doesn't need to be exposed to it while she's fighting for her life. Be considerate of your sister.” Your husband hissed at your little brother.
“Oh, so now you give a fuck about her all of a sudden? Oooo…that's nice to know.”
Coriolanus' frostily stared Darius as he seethed, “Don't stand here and assume you know how I feel about my wife because you don't. Now, you need to leave.”
“I’ll let my parents know what's going on with Y/N.” Darius sighed, tossing his half smoked cigarette into his water cup before standing to his feet.
Without another word, your brother left your husband alone in your room.
Coriolanus took vigil by your bedside. He never left your side. Not even when a nurse came in and asked if he wanted to be escorted to the NICU to see his son.
He refused, saying that he'd see Cassian Xandros with you when you woke up.
The nurse sadly nodded and left him be. She thought he was grasping at straws since there was a chance that you wouldn't wake up.
Coriolanus begged you to wake up. Promised to make an effort to be around more of you'd only open your beautiful eyes from him.
And finally, after 3 days in a coma, you blinked your eyes open. At first your vision was a bit blurry as you heard a gasp from next to you. As your vision cleared, you saw your that your husband's face was near yours.
And he was crying.
He was crying?
Why was he crying?
You took in his appearance and realized that he looked like shit. His platinum curls, usually slick back with gel, were disheveled and greasy. He also had light blonde stuble covering his jaw.
But it was his icy blue eyes that tooth your breath away.
They held so much relief in them as they welled with water.
“Corio-” You began to ask, only for your husband to cut you off. “My darling, I thought I was going to lose you.” Coriolanus held you close to his chest and his voice cracked.
“Lose me? What happened?” You asked, pulling away from his hold to look up at him with confusion shining in your eyes.
“Darius found you passed out and bleeding, Y/N. You've been out of it for roughly 3 days.” Your husband explained, his usually firm voice a bit unsteady.
The air was knocked out of your lungs as the realization of what happened hit you. “The baby?...” You shakily asked, hoping that your baby boy survived.
“Cassian Xandros is strong and a survivor, just like us.” Coriolanus smiled. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he explained, ‘He's in the NICU; the nurse can take us to see him.”
Assuming that Coriolanus has seen your son already, you innocently asked, “Does he look like me or like you?”
“I don't know, darling. I've been waiting for you to wake up so we can see him together.”
Your husband's answer blindsided you. You weren't expecting that.
But what he said next, well, that rendered you speechless.
His baby blue eyes met yours as he poured out his blackened soul to you. His fingers threaded with yours as he confessed, “I was terrified that you weren't going to make it, Y/N. I was afraid that I'd have to go through the pain of heartbreak all over again.”
Your eyes widened at his words. Heartbreak? Did that mean…
“The first time I fell in love it was 7 years ago, when I was Lucy Gray’s mentor.”
You didn't need to hear that. You already knew he fell for her. Hell, everyone that was in the Top 24 of the Academy graduating class of 10 ADD knew that (yourself included).
Great, so he was going to tell you that he was still hung up on his lost first love while you lay in the hospital bed? What a cold hearted man you were married to. Hell, why would he even do that.
A glazed over look appeared in his eyes and his baritone grew tight. “I nearly destroyed my entire life for her. For love. And you know where it got me? Heartbroken, used up, betrayed, and alone.”
“Corio-”, You began, not understanding where he was coming from, only for him to interrupt you with the simple request of, “Please, call me Coryo.”
You nodded, prompting him to continue his holy confession, “Lucy Gray and her love left me feeling like a fool. I hated feeling like that and swore that I'd never let myself feel that way again. That I’d never fall in love again.” Coryo's thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I swore to marry a woman that I could never love, but only hate in order to never feel weak, broken, humiliated, and manipulated again.”
Great…so now it's confirmed that he hates you. You always suspected it, but now you know the truth for sure. You swallowed down a lump in your truth and softly said, “I understand, Coryo.”
“No, I don't think you do, darling.” Your husband shook his head, making his blonde curls rustle around. “I hate myself for loving you, my darling rose, because you have the power to destroy me if you wish.”
“Y-you love me?” You gasped as tears began to tickle your eyes.
“Yes.” Your husband smiled. “Very much and it frightens me because of what happened between me and that manipulative bitch all those years ago.”
Oh wow…Lucy Gray sure did do a number on your husband. Oh, if you ever got your hands on her, you'd rip hair hair out and claw her eyes out for the emotional turmoil she put Coriolanus through. If it wasn't for her breaking his heart so badly, you would’ve had a better marriage.
“I love you too, Coryo, and I'll never hurt you the way she did.’ You promised your husband.
“You better not or else I'll burn down all of Panem this time in the wake of my heartbreak.” Your husband teased before pressing a kiss to your lips.
A kiss filled with every single emotion he's ever held back from you these last few months. His lips fit perfectly against yours as he drank in your soul with every moment they made against yours.
You broke apart whenever you heard a nurse loudly clearing her throat. Once you looked to the woman, she smiled and simply said, ‘I’m glad to see you're up, Mrs. Snow. How would you like to see your son?”
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3 Months Later…
The way Cassian Xandros Snow entered the world was very dramatic but you wouldn't change a thing about it. In fact, if it wasn't for his dramatic birth then you and your husband might have gone your entire lives without confessing the love you have for each other.
Oh, that would've been horrible.
You were sitting in a white glider, rocking your son to sleep after feeding him, whenever the sound of barefeet slapping against the marble floor made you look up towards the doorway.
“Happy anniversary, darling.” Coriolanus smiled, single pink rose in his hand, as he walked into the nursery.
*Happy Anniversary, Coryo.” You smiled back, watching your husband as he made his way over to your side. Flickering your eyes between the pink rose and his icy blue eyes, you remarked, “I was expecting a white rose, not a pink one.”
“Yes, well, it's only fitting that I give you a pink rose today. After all, pink roses are your favorite; the white ones are mine.”
“How did you know that? I never told you?”
“I can be quite observant and a bit obsessive when I'm in love.” Was Coriolanus' answer as he passed you the rose, only to take your son into his arms.
Pecking your husband on his plush lips, you honestly told him, “And I wouldn't want you any other way, Coryo.”
Because, honestly, you preferred his obsessive love over his cold and distant hate. After experiencing both, well, you quickly discovered that it was better to be the center of Coriolanus Snow's world than to not be in it at all.
He hated that he loved you, but you loved that he loved you.
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raya-hunter01 · 5 months ago
Text
Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 9
Roman X OC(Kara)
Jey Uso X OC (Tia)
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy
Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.
What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?
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Boston Municipal Courthouse
Janice’s POV
“Mama, I’m ok,” Roman said as I sat there in disbelief as they took Tia out of the courtroom. “Son something ain’t right…..Why did they sentence her today? Why she got a short sentence, weren’t we all watching the same video because she needs to be up under the jail.”
“The Judge said it was because of the plea deal, her clean record and just wanting this over for everyone,” he said looking at Kara who seemed to be struggling with the verdict and I don’t blame her.
“Son something in the milk ain’t clean…..Regardless of the verdict he should have rescheduled a date for sentencing. That would have given him time to give a more suitable sentence for crime because that wasn’t it,” I said as Roman hugged me.
“Ma, can we just leave, I’m ready to get outta Boston,” he said as I sighed giving him a hug seeing Jey heading over.
“Aye, you ok auntie?” he asked as Roman moved and I gave him a hug. “Yes, baby I am, just can’t believe what happened in here today.”
“Neither can but we’re all bout to go leave and get some rest. We’re flying out tomorrow but planning to hit up the 16 East Bar and Grill in Pensacola on Sunday before we head back out on the road,” Jey said smiling at me.
“You’re inviting us?” Roman asked in shock as Jey sighed. “I’m still mad as hell at you, but I can’t help but be thankful you were there with Kara. You risked your life to save her and Trin…That what family do.”
“I love them both…I always will, it ain’t nothing to thank me for.”
“Well, the option is open, we’ll probably get there about 7. Trin reserved the patio, so we ain’t gotta worry about people,” Jey said as I smiled.
Hey, I will take those baby steps in the healing process. I know we will come back together in some shape or form.
“Well, we will meet ya’ll there Sunday,” Roman said as I tried to contain my excitement, praying this was a positive step in the right direction for us.
----
Kara’s House
Kara’s POV
I’m glad we did come back to the house alone and just chilled out. I don’t know how I would have reacted hanging out with my mom, I needed time to decompress. 
“Girl, I love this back yard,” Trin gushed as I smiled wrapping myself up in my blanket.
“Thanks, when I saw the firepit I fell in love,” I said as she nodded roasting her marshmallows.
“I may have to talk Jimmy into getting us one. You know marshmallows are my weakness.” “That’s why I keep them stocked up ma’am,” I said as she smiled brightly at me.
“I know you had a lot of work to make up, did you finish?” Trin asked as I smiled. “I’m finally caught up, it wasn’t easy, but I have two A’s and two high B’s” I said truly proud of how I overcame and turned everything around.
“Yes! You know when you graduate I’mma act a fool…You know this right?” she said making me laugh as I looked at Jey flipping the meat on the grill as Jimmy was telling him some animated story. I loved their relationship so much.
“Have you told Jey?” Trin asked as I smiled at her. “Told him what?”
“Uh, that you love him, duh,” she said as I blushed. “I’ll have you know I told him the night I woke up from surgery.”
“That’s great…So are ya’ll together or what is we doing?”
“I’m scared Trin,” I said honestly as she nodded in understanding. “Do you want to be with Jey?” she asked as I nodded. “Yea, I really do.”
“Then be with him Kara, what’s the problem?.…That man loves and adores you,” she said gently pushing my shoulder.
 “I can see the blogs now having a fucking field day. Imagine their us at family gatherings. Chile, did you hear Kara is here with Joshua like she wasn’t married to Roman.”  I mocked as Trin shrugged her shoulders.
“Girl, fuck them bloggers and keyboard trolls, they don't know you and it ain't they fuckin' business. Plus, you knew Jey before Roman anyway."
"Ok, but like I said, what about the family gatherings. You know they always have parties and cookouts," I said as Trin smiled.
"Fuck their opinions too, but I don’t think it will be a problem, everyone loves you, especially mom and pops. They hate what Roman did and I think you’re overthinking it.”
“So much is going on, I just don’t want to hurt him Trin,” I whispered as she reached over and put her hand on my knee.
“It’s your time to be happy Kara and damn what people think. Life is too short, and you got a second chance at life.”
“I know I got a second chance, but I’m scared of screwing this up,” I said finally voicing my fears.
“Live your life Kara, tomorrow ain’t promised to none of us. You don’t owe anybody anything, ain’t no debts around here,” Trin said as I gave her a hug.
“I know and I love you, girly.  Ugh, I’m so tired of crying,” I sniffed failing to stop my tears.
“I love you too, sis, it’s time for the happy tears now because you deserve it.”
“You really think so?” I asked barely above a whisper as she rubbed my back. “I know so, everything you’ve ever wanted for yourself in this life about to happen and I can’t wait to see witness it.”
“Ya’ll aright over there?” Jimmy asked as Jey turned to look back at us.
“Yea, just two sisters having our daily talk,” I said as Trin laughed.
“Ya’ll know how we get, let us have our moment,” she said as Jimmy shook his head. “Man, what we gon’ do with them two?” Jimmy asked as Jey chuckled handing him a pan so he could take some of the steaks off the grill.
“Love ‘em and let them do their thang,” he chuckled. “Yea, what he said!” Trin yelled as I laughed.
Trin was right it’s my time to put myself first and live my life. Anything or anybody that disrupts my peace from this point forward gotta go, because it’s a new beginning for me, for us all.
-----
Pensacola, FL
A Few Days Later
Janice’s POV
We been home a couple days, and it was my day to pick up Logan. I can’t place it, but I knew something wasn’t right. “Lord, uncover whatever it is because we’ve all been through enough,” I said aloud feeling nauseous pulling into Rebecca and Bill’s driveway.
Knocking on the door and getting no answer, I called and once again no answer. I saw Rebecca’s car and had talked to her ten minutes ago. I was getting irritated now.
“How the hell you gon’ tell me to come over to get Logan and not pick up the phone or answer the door.” I mutter looking under the rug for their spare key.
Opening the door, I looked around and there was no sign of Rebecca in the foyer or living room. I could hear Logan babbling on the baby monitor in the living room, so I knew she was ok.
 “Rebecca!” I called out, no answer. “This how these damn horror movie start, I hope this fool is ok,” I mutter heading towards the kitchen.
“I can’t thank you enough Terry,” I heard Rebecca say as I stopped in my tracks.
Who the hell is Terry?
“Rebecca, this is the last time I’m taking your call. I did this favor for you and Tia, but I don’t want to be tied to the drama. I got too much to lose,” I heard the familiar voice say as she laid the phone on the table.
“Thank you for helping her, she really is anxious to make it right with her sister when she gets out,” Rebecca said grabbing Logan’s formula putting it in her baby bag.
The damn judge….She was the reason for that shit show the other day.
“That’s good and all but I put in a no contact order in the paperwork for a reason. I truly feel she meant what she did and her actions alone warranted life in prison, but I helped you for old time sakes,” he said sounding seemingly disappointed with himself.
“I---We appreciate this so much, she’s going to stay out of trouble when she gets out and we won’t bother you again.”
I was physically ill, this was sick.
“I don’t know what hold your daughter has over you…But if this goes bad, it’s on your head. It would be in her best interest to just leave Kara be,” he said as she shook her head.
“I will handle Kara; she will come around and see Tia was just going through a lot and didn’t mean to hurt her. I just know by the time it’s time for Tia to get out, they will have reconnected, and Kara will be calling you to cancel that no contact order.”
This woman has lost it, like needs to sit on someone’s couch…ASAP. Hearing enough, I quietly retraced my steps finally finding my way back in the entrance of the house pretending I had just arrived.
“Rebecca, I’m here to get Logan!” I said a little louder as I heard her scrambling round the kitchen.
“She’s upstairs, I’ll get her,” she yelled as I shook my head.
I can’t believe she sold out her own daughter to protect the other one that tried to kill her. She and Tia are really one in the same she just masks her dirt.
It seemed like it took forever, but finally she brought Logan downstairs.
“Oh, baby girl I missed you,” I whispered as she placed a dozing Logan in my arms. “I put her formula in the bag, and she’s already had a bottle. She should be asleep before you get back home,” Rebecca said as I smiled at my little light.
That’s what she was to us, no matter how she was conceived, our little light.
“You can pick her up at Roman’s on Thursday. I’ll leave you to your nana break and see you tomorrow at dinner,” I said grabbing Logan’s diaper bag quickly wanting to get the hell outta dodge.
“Ok, we’ll see you then and enjoy her,” she said giving Logan a kiss on the forehead.
“Oh, we will,” I said making my way out of the house, thankful she didn’t follow me out. After strapping logan in her car seat I rushed to get back in the car to call Trin but got no answer, then I remembered she had a signing to do today.
“Hey sweetie, I forgot you had a signing, and I know ya’ll gotta help out Josh tonight. I’ll just see you tomorrow at dinner. You and Jonathon be safe, love ya’ll.”
I guess I’m on my own with this one, but I know one thing, Kara will know about the shady shit her mama did and I’mma make Rebecca tells her if it’s the last thing I do.
-----
Pensacola, FL
Jey’s House
Kayla’s POV
Getting out of the shower I felt refreshed as I dried off. Looking at myself in the mirror I felt different.. Today was amazing, we had our balcony picnic date. It was simple, beautiful, and was everything.  Pizza, wine, and some of my favorite snacks had been on the menu.
The ocean serving as our backdrop and music as the waves crashed upon the shore due to a storm heading our way. We even went on a walk on the beach and watched the sunset before we got rained out. Hence the shower I just took.
I still hadn’t told Jey how I felt but today just solidified it even more. I was deeply in love with this man.
“You ok in there Kara?” Jey asked knocking on the door as I smiled.
“Yea, I’m good I’ll be out in a second,” I said dressing my wound. Thank God it’s finally healing and not hurting as much.  Slipping on one of Jey’s shirts, I cut off the lights as I headed back into the bedroom, frowning when I didn’t see him.
“Jey-”
“I’m out here on the balcony, wait I’mma come get you,” he said as I smiled at the thought of going back out there.
“What have you done now?” I asked as he smiled clad only in a pair of shorts. “This is part two of your balcony picnic date, Ma,” he whispered offering me his hand as I anxiously took it.
“Aww it’s so pretty….Wait where did all this come from?” I gasped as he led me back out on the balcony. “Told you I wasn’t done yet, do you like it?”
“I love it but how did you do it? We been out here all day and I know I ain’t seen no bed out here earlier.” I said as he laughed.
“A couple of lil birdies did it when we went for a walk on the beach. This is your new study area for when you come to visit.” he said as I blushed looking at the bed on the balcony surrounded by pillows and the beautiful string lights above it.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” I said as he smiled, laying down beckoning me to him with his finger.
“Come on down here, Ma, I owe you a movie.” Not needing to be told twice, I climbed in bed and got comfortable in his arms.
“You know, I’ve always loved staying here.  I could fall asleep out here just listening to the ocean, and now you done put a bed out here. You know it’s a wrap right, I may never leave,” I sighed, welcoming his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on the hollow of my neck. as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders pulling him closer.
“Maybe that was my plan, kidnap you, and never let you leave,” he said as I relaxed wanting to feel more of him as his hands caressed my bare thighs.
“You can’t kidnap the willing,” I moaned, his fingers feeling so good but I winced slightly as Jey looked at me with worry.
“Are you ok?” He asked as I nodded not wanting him to stop. “Kara, let me can get up, I’on  wanna hurt you,” he said trying to sit up as I grabbed his Cuban link holding him in place.
“I’m fine, don’t you dare move,” I said as he smiled, rolling over on his back wrapping me up in his arms.
“Ok, this is a good compromise too,” I moaned getting comfortable as the pain in my chest subsided. “I know it is, stubborn ass,” Jey chuckled, reaching up to turn off the lights and starting the movie projector.
“What are we watching?” I asked, as he gently pulled one of my legs across his lap before covering us up with a blanket.
“You’ll see,” he whispered stealing a kiss as I squealed hearing the opening credits to Dirty Dancing as he laughed.
“The stuff I do for you, woman.”
“I love this movie!”
“I know, I remembered how excited you was at the hospital that night it came on. Then you got mad and almost made me switch the channel.”
“Hey, I was ready for the love scene, and they cut it… Just plain blasphemous, but I took one for the team because one simply doesn’t change the channel when Patrick Swayze is blessing your TV screen.” I said as he raised his eyebrow at me.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he joked as we settled in to watch the movie under the stars.
See Jey knew my love languages and I loved that. He knew what mattered, it wasn’t diamonds and pearls, or even money. It was spending quality time, it was physical touch, and creating memories with the ones you love. Jey’s love languages were a mixture of my mine. He loved to please and do for those he loved.
 He made sure every day to tell and show you how much you mean to him, and he only wanted the same in return and rightfully so.
“I’m glad you had fun and loved everything,” he said pulling me closer.
“I really did, and I hope you know I don’t just be hugged up with just anybody now,” I said as he looked down at me with a smile, catching on to what I was saying.
“Well, I don’t just do balcony picnics dates for just anybody either.” His lips close to mine as my heart pounded loudly against my chest.
“I have to warn you, I only do things like this with my man,” I whispered, as our lips finally meeting in a short, deep passionate kiss.
“And I only do things like this with my lady.” he moaned as our lips found each other once again as our kisses becoming more passionate by the second.
“For us,” Jey moaned against my lips as I whimpered against him.
“For us.”
“You sure?” He rasped pulling back slightly, watching me closely through low hooded eyes.
“I’m sure…I’ve never been sure of anything in my life,” I said as Jey caressed my face.
 “Forever my lady,” he whispered as his lips descended upon mine as I felt like I was flying. We were finally here at last and it felt so good. Breaking our kiss to catch our breaths.
“Ma, we can wait…I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Jey moaned, his beautiful brown eyes growing darker as I moved his hand slowly down to the hem of my shirt.
“You won’t, I trust you,” I gasped as his resolve crumbling taking me in a searing kiss, only releasing me from his grasp to remove my shirt.
“Your so beautiful, he whispered in awe as I blushed under his powerful serenading gaze.
Like a moth to a flame, I craved his touch and trembled with anticipation as he towered over me. The pain in my chest a distant memory, laying on my back as Jey took his time exploring my body.
His powerful hands grasping mine, bringing them to his chest as I felt his heart racing.
“I want you to feel what you do to me,” he said licking his lips as I groaned, biting my lower lip as he thrusted my hips against his dick that was straining against his shorts begging for release.
His hands controlling every sensual buck of my hips against his dick as it continued to grow longer and harder.
“Mmm, I feel it,” I gasped, his lips capturing mine in an earth-shattering kiss as my hands anxiously helped him remove his shorts.
“Not yet aulelei,” he moaned grabbing my hands gently pining them to the bed. His kisses moved to my neck, my heart racing as he caressed my breasts, being careful of my bandage.
“Are you sure?” he asked again.
“Yes, please,” I pleaded entangling my fingers in his hair as he gently suckled at my breasts taking his time with each one giving them equal attention holding my gaze as I fought back a moan.
“Mm, you sensitive huh,” he whispered with a smirk as I blushed. His lips lovingly kissing and nibbling down my body, teasingly as I fought to get ahold of myself but I was gone…
“Jey, don’t stop,” I gasped, my body trembling in anticipation of what was next to come.
 His eyes darkening as kissed the top of my mound gazing up at me with low eyes licking his lips as he descended lower. “I don’t plan too,” he whispered as I purred in appreciation.
Jey’s POV
Damn, I’m drunk…Drunk in love her intoxicating sent as I kissed the plush beautiful lips between her thighs, as Kara’s legs began to quiver.
“P- Please, Jey,” Kara as I groaned as I felt my dick get even harder.
"Fuck, all this for me aulelei? Tell me?” I moaned as her eyes met mine.
“Yes! Mmm, you know it is,” Kara gasped as I flattened my tongue and gently licked her slit, unable to stop the moan that rasped from my lips as the first drop of her sweet nectar coated my tongue.
“Mmm, I knew you’d taste like honey…. You done fucked around and created a monster, Ma,” I moaned, snatching her hips to my mouth as I swirled my tongue against her clit, commencing to drown in her.
“Jey, shit!” Kara gasped down at me in shock as I smirked.  The beautiful catch in her throat as I pleased her had me on demon time. I needed more…Much more and only she could give me what I wanted.
 “I- Mmm-” Kara moaned, trying to push my head away as I Ignored her plea intertwining our hands together, moving my tongue faster against her wet hot center.
“Stop runnin’, cause’ you deserve dis nut…..You understand me?”
Kara nodded, unable to speak. “Tell me you understand aulelei ?”
“I-I understand,” Kara whimpered as I moaned “Ain’t no stoppin’ Kara….Ain’t no stoppin’ till you nut in my mouth like a good girl,” I breathed against her pussy before going back to the task at hand.
“Fuck!..Oouu Josh, shit!” She moaned, her trembling legs over my shoulder as she sat up slightly panting in disbelief.
“Yea, you wit a real one now, moan my name baby. Damn, you makin’ my dick even harder just thinkin’ bout you nuttin’ in my mouth,” I confessed, knowing my words were encouraging her to get what she wanted…What we both needed.
“Mmm, I need it so bad,” Kara moaned moving her hips against my tongue. “Mmhm, so do I baby…. Dat’s it, you doin’ so good”
“Joshjoshjosh Mmhm!”
“Mmhm, get what’s yours. Fuck, you look so sexy chasin’ yo’ nut,” I moaned as she bit her lower lip, gripping the back of my head riding my face.
 “Babe! Kara exclaimed as she exploded in my mouth. Her beautiful face and the swivel of her hips as she rode out her orgasm were a thing of beauty.
I couldn’t get enough of her as I greedily drank her essence with a hearty moan as she writhed on the bed trying to catch her breath.  
Yea, I did dat…Fuck, I wanna keep her this way forever.
Crawling up her body, her flush face welcomed me as she grasped my Cuban link kissing me with urgency as I groaned nipping at her bottom lip.
“Mmm, you taste yourself?….You taste good, don’t you?” I groaned as Kara whimpered against my lips. Her trembling hand, reaching down between us grabbing my dick placing the tip at her entrance as I moaned trying to control myself.
“Mmm, tell me what you need,” I moaned, Kara pulling me closing whispering three words that made ignited an even deeper fire within me. “You inside me,” she gasped breathlessly as I  gave in, her tight warmth surrounding me, welcoming me home.
“Shit, Kara,” I groaned trying to take my time knowing she was still hurt, but she was making it hard. I wanted to sink inside her and get lost.  
“It’s ok,” she moaned, pulling me closer. A collective gasp of undeniable pleasure from us both filled the air as I filled her to the hilt.  
Kara’s POV
The sweat gathered at his brow as he’s trying to maintain his composure slowly beginning to thrust inside me as I craved more. “Mmm, faster.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jey moaned as I nodded not particularly caring, he felt so good, and I wanted him closer but I knew him.
“Your not,” I gasped as he gripped my hips gently once again surging forward as we both groaned at the sensation.
“I’mma take my time….Make love to you,” Jey whispered burying his head in the hollow of my neck, tilting his weight on his elbows, thrusting at a new angle that rendered me whimpering mess as he showered my neck with kisses.
“Damn, found my first spot,” he groaned as I began meeting his thrusts, feeling the pressure building with each caress, every lick and thrust we got lost in each other.
Something was different, this wasn’t sex like it was all those months ago on Roman’s bus.  This was different, we were making love and it felt so good.
With each swivel of his hips, he went deeper and deeper, our lips meeting in a familiar dance as our tongues sensually stroked each other.
The smell of rain and the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore made the moment even more special.
Each second, body to body, skin to skin we climbed higher and higher together as Jey carefully rolled onto his back, shifting me onto my side, trying to take some pressure off of my chest but never stopping his gently thrusts.
A strangled moan escaped my lips at the new position as Jey wrapped one arm around my chest, the other placing one of my leg over his as I trembled in his arms.
“It’s just us…. Stop being shy, ma,” he rasped against my ear thrusting at a steadier pace.
“Mmm, you feel so good. I need it so bad, Josh!” I cried as he growled nipping at my neck as tears sprang to my eyes from the immense pleasure.
“I know baby, me too, I need you to cum for me…You gon’ give me what I want, ain’t you?”
“Yes! I’m close, don’t stop,” my desperate cries silenced as he grasped my throat bringing my mouth to his in a scorching kiss, as I writhed in need against him.  His other hand to toying with my clit.
“You gon’ cum for me, like a good girl?” Jey asked already knowing the answer, his thrusts and breathing more uneven as I pulsed around him.
“Mmm,Yes.”
“Louder, Ma.”
“Yes! I’mma cum like a good girl, I promise,” I cried unashamed. He was dickin’ my ass down and it felt so damn good.
“Yea…Let it go, Ma. Damn, you so feel good,” he murmured against my lips.
“Josh! Fuck!” I cried coming undone in his arms. “Mmm, fuck yea look at you cummin’ just for me,” Jey praised pulling out, rubbing his dick against my clit.  “Mmm, put it back in,” I begged truly drunk on him at this point, and I wanted all he had to give.
Jey’s POV
“Uh huh, I know baby, dat pussy quivering. You need some more of dis dick don’t you?” I groaned turned on as fuck as Kara reached down, moving my hand, grasping my dick rubbing against her clit before sliding the tip back inside her.
“Take what you want, I’m yours.”
 “I want more,” Kara purred guiding my dick back inside her as we both gasped as we became one again….
“Fuck, yea…Put dat dick back in for daddy and get you another nut I moaned as we moved against each other in sync.
 “I- I want you to cum now.” Kara whimpered against me as I felt a her tight pussy swallowing my dick like a champ. Fuck, I wasn’t gon’ last too much longer.
 “Hold on, we both gon’ get this next nut together,” I groaned on a mission thrusting harder. “Josh- Wh-”
“Just breathe, ma…Let it take over, I promise its gon’ feel so good,” I whispered nibbling on her ear as I felt her relax. “Baby….Baby…Mm, Josh,” Kara gasped.
“Yea..I’m right here Kara, I got you.”
“What are you doing to me?” Kara groaned trying to hide her face but I refused to let her. Grabbing her chin, making her look at me.
“I’ll tell you what I’m doin’…..I’m makin’ love to the woman I love,” I declared, continuing to get lost inside her.
“I love you,” Kara moaned as our lips met in a sloppy kiss as she took my hand and placed it on her clit, and guiding my hand in a figure eight motion as she began steadily throwing her ass back on my dick to match my deep hard thrust.
“Shit! I love you more. …Now be my good girl, and cum for me…Fuck you doin’ so good, ma,” I moaned.
“Jey! Mmm, fuck!” Kara screamed as I felt her pulsing around my dick.
“Uh huh, I know it baby, I feel it.”
“Cum with me.”
 “Can I cum inside you?” I groaned thrusting harder praying she would say yes. “Yes, I want you too Josh,” she whimpered as her head fell back against my shoulder in shock as she fell over the cliff of extasy, taking me with her as I groaned in triumph holding her trembling body against mine as I came and stilled inside her.
The sounds of the rain hitting the roof, along with our heavy breathing filled the night air. Neither one of us said anything for a few minutes, too stunned to speak.
 “Damn, that was insane,” I whispered, finally somewhat regaining my composure as Kara rolled onto her back still trying to catch her breath.
“Best balcony picnic date ever,” Kara said with a relaxed smile as I gently kissed her lips.
“No regrets,” I whispered as Kara caressed my beard. “No regrets.”
------
Roman's House
Janice's POV
"Mama, I can't believe he posted this," Roman said as I leaned over his shoulder to look at his phone.
"Aww that was nice Joshua did that for Kara," I said as Roman rolled his eyes.
Mama-"
"What it's very sweet."
"What about the blanket hanging off the bed mama? He's being messy, in so many words sayin' he slept with Kara," Roman said as I frowned at him.
"Roman they could have been cuddling watching movies for all we know, but in the end, it isn't your business what Kara does."
"I know, but can people give me time to deal with what I lost? I lost my wife and now she's with my cousin." Roman said slightly raising his voice.
"Roman, Kara isn't going to put her life on hold to make you feel better. I had something to tell you, but I see you aren't in the right frame of mind to hear it right now." I said choosing to not pass on the new information I found out at Rebecca's today. He'll find out tomorrow like everyone else.
"No I'm not in a good head space, but I will be when I get some air," Roman said as I got up and stood by the kitchen door.
"No you ain't because you're going to end up at Josh's and I'm not letting you do that to Kara or yourself," I said putting my foot down.
"I just need some air, mama, please move," Roman pleaded as I refused to move.
"The last time you went out to get some air you ended up in Boston and could have got yourself killed, so no I ain't moving."I cried. Roman was at his breaking point, but he needed to get all this shit out. He was holding too much in.
"What do you want from me?!" Roman yelled as I pulled him into my arms giving him a much needed hug as his arms tightened around me.
"I want you to let it go, baby...Let that guilt go and free yourself, it's almost been a year." I said trying to get through to him.
"I lost her and I can't fix it," Roman said his voice breaking as rubbed his back. "Some things aren't meant to be fixed Roman...We just own up to our mistakes and take it one day at a time," I said as he pulled away wiping his tears.
"I know I gotta let her go, mama. My mind tells me that every day but my heart ain't caught up yet," Roman said sitting back down and looking at his phone.
"It will...Just give yourself time," I said as we heard Logan cry over the baby monitor.
"I got her, you went the last time," Roman said going to check on Logan leaving his phone on the table.
Picking it up I looked at Josh's post and smiled.
"Gon' head Joshua," I muttered truly happy that Kara was moving on and being loved how she deserved to be.
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The thought of tomorrow suddenly crept back into my mind. I hated to disrupt the dinner tomorrow but I couldn't let this betrayal stay hidden.
Kara needed to know there was more than one enemy she needed protection from. I just never in my wildest dreams thought it would be her own mother.
Tomorrow Rebecca is coming clean or i'mma do it myself.
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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 6 months ago
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If you get pregnant from a ghoul, what would the kid be like? Human? Ghoul? Some weird freakish third thing? Even Gulpers are just mutated humans so anything is possible.
(I'll put a trigger warning here for "mild discussion of pregnancy loss/premature birth", in case that upsets anyone.)
My official answer to this is: "looks human, but closer to a freakish third thing when you get down to the details".
The pregnancy certainly wouldn't be a cakewalk. Frankly, I think you'd have to have a pretty preternatural resistance to radiation to successfully conceive with a ghoul to begin with (which we see is achievable for some people; otherwise I think there would just straight up be no successful fertilization/implantation). If you were able to make it happen, I think the fetus would be quite radioactive itself early on, and you'd struggle a lot. You might be able to get away with the occasional dose of Radaway if you're incredibly sick, like too sick to function, but too much of it and I think you'd be risking unfavorable outcomes. With luck (and maybe a higher-than-average endurance), things might taper off the further along you get. I imagine the birth would be unremarkable, all other regular health factors considered, unless you found yourself so ill from the baseline radiation that you were unable to continue carrying to full term and were forced to deliver prematurely. The odds of that certainly aren't zero. Your breast milk would make a Geiger counter go nuts.
It's hard to imagine the 50% genetic spawn of a ghoul wouldn't be significantly more radiation resistant, right? Like, at minimum? Personally, I think if you had a baby with a ghoul, that kid would be constantly drawn to play in puddles of nuclear fallout, to drink from dirty sources, to want to go outside during rad storms. Radiation is healing and refreshing for ghouls, so I would imagine at least some of that would transfer, no matter how much it makes you worry. You'd probably find the kid sucking on a power core if you turned your back for too long.
I, personally, would think that a kid like that would age normally, but since we know ghouls have that super-regenerative ability, maybe there's a chance that they'd shoot through the puberty phase really quickly? I mean, that "growing" phase in adolescence is basically just a bunch of cells dying off and being regenerated/high rates of cell generation to build muscle and bone mass. Again, I'd like to think they'd grow pretty typically, all things considered, but it's certainly something to think about.
That regenerative ability could certainly prove quite...tricky at times. We've seen how quickly it can heal wounds, which is great for something like a puncture or a stab wound...but what about a broken bone? I can't help but be reminded of an audio diary you can find in Bioshock 2 that talks about the Little Sisters' insane regenerative ability and its disadvantages. At one point, one of the girls escapes from the researchers studying them and throws herself over a balcony (trying to escape or end her life, though which is unclear), shattering both of her legs. But by the time they've made it to the bottom where she's lying, her legs have already healed at a bunch of fucked up and unnatural angles, so they have to break her legs over and over again until they can set them correctly. With as quickly as we see ghouls heal in the show (and in the games), it's hard to imagine you wouldn't run into the same issue, as horrific as it is.
Can you imagine your child having to go through that because they fell playing (or fleeing, god forbid) and broke their arm, or their collarbone or something? Can you imagine having to be the person doing the breaking? What if there's no one else to do it?
I'd also assume that, as they age into their teen years/early adulthood, their aging would slow, though I think exactly how much it would slow would depend on the individual child and their circumstances. I do think half-ghoul children would be able to be turned fully ghoul through some conventional means, just maybe over a longer period of time and with much higher doses of radiation.
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redlittlefoxari · 11 months ago
Text
Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Nine: Secrets Don’t Make Friends
Relationship: Astarion X Tav
Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.
Summary: Karlach barges in on Tav while she's about ready to come down for dinner. Spotting a Fully naked, and pregnant Tav.
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12 weeks pregnant
Karlach’s eyes moved from your small baby bump to your face and back to the bump. There were so many emotions on her face, warring for control, the most prominent ones being hurt, confusion, anger, and happiness. They all tore across her face, and seeing her in this state broke your heart.
“What the fuck is going on.” Karlach walked further into the room, raising her voice as she did. “I thought you said that it was hard for elves to get pregnant? All that on the road earlier, and here you are, Pregnant.”
You quickly picked up a towel to cover yourself. “Keep it down.” You hushed her. “I know this looks bad, but let me explain.”
“Keep it down? Keep it down!?” You hushed her again. “You better get to explaining why didn’t you tell us? Does Astarion even know?”
“Oh, he knows…” You walked over to the bed where your clothes were laid out and sat down.
“So what, the two of you decided to have a child and found a sperm donor or something?” She waited for you to reply.
“No, it’s his child one hundred percent. Long story short, if a vampire has had enough blood and is sated, they can produce children.” You placed your hand on your stomach. “And if everything alines with elves, we can produce children, so one night about twelve weeks ago, Astarion had enough blood, and an elven soul was looking to be reincarnated. So now I am pregnant with a half-vampire baby.”
Karlach’s jaw hung open in surprise. “So why didn’t you tell us? That's amazing; we should be celebrating!”
Karlach closed the distance between the two of you, taking a seat on the bed next to you. She was a good foot and a half taller than you, so her tower form loomed over you a bit as she waited to hear why you and Astarion felt the need to keep this from them.
“I was scared.” You looked down at the floor. “Elven pregnancies are already high risk. and you mix that was a Vampire where we don’t have a whole lot of information… I don’t know.”
“But you're okay now… aren’t you? You’re so far along now; wouldn’t it be okay to tell us.” Her voice was low, an attribute that you didn’t see often in her.
“I don’t know. I’m still scared something could go wrong.” You could feel tears in your eyes starting to form. “What if I tell you all, Put it out into the universe, and something bad happens… what if I lose them and have to tell you all that they're gone…. I have to go through the loss of telling you over and over again.”
There it was, the fear that you kept to yourself. Not even Astarion knew why you were so adamant about keeping it a secret till you hit fourteen weeks. You just kept telling him you didn’t want to overshadow Gale’s celebration, but the truth was you feared that once you celebrated with friends, some cruel god would take the baby away from you.
You remember stories your mother had told you growing up that she herself had suffered three miscarriages until she finally conceived you. She had kept you secret until she couldn’t anymore, and that was well into her second trimester. It was just something that elves feared since it was a rare gift to have children, and most elves never got the chance to experience it. With the added factor of the baby being Astarion’s, your fears skyrocketed.
“Hey.” Karlach placed her hand on yours; it was warm, whereas yours was cold, the water on your skin making it hard to get warm.
You looked up at Karlach, her smile reaching her eyes, which also had tears in them.
“If any god even thinks of doing that, I’ll go to whatever plane they're on and kill them myself.” You let out a small laugh at her declaration. “I get why you did it… Gods, so when that arrow hit you… the two of your reactions make sense now.”
“We were terrified that we lost them…” The thought sent a jolt of fear to your heart. “I don’t know what I would have done if Astarion didn’t hear the heartbeat.”
“The little guy has a heartbeat…” Karlach stared at you in wonder. “Gods, that’s amazing…. You're amazing. May I?”
She gestured to your stomach, and you nodded. Her warm hand slipped beneath the towel to touch the swell of your bare belly. She wouldn’t feel anything, nor would Karlach be able to hear the heartbeat, but it felt nice having her be a part of the secret and her support. It also didn’t hurt that you were freezing, and she was nice and warm.
“You won’t be able to feel them kicking for a while, not till the third trimester.” You smiled at Karlach’s wonder.
“I just can’t believe that there is a child growing in there. What do you suppose it’s going to be? Boy or Girl?”
“I’m not sure. There is no way to tell short of asking a divination wizard, but I don’t want to know… I like to be surprised.” The thought of a boy scared you, though. You knew nothing about being a boy, and the idea of Astarion teaching them all his ways of being mischievous was scary.
“They are going to be beautiful judging by who their parents are.” Karlach pulled her hand away. “I understand why you kept this a secret, but why not tell us now? We’ll all help you keep this little one safe. Auntie K will be its number one bodyguard.” Karlach puffed out her chest.
“You are right, I suppose I should let you all in on the secret now since you know.” You reached for the white dress that would show off your bump and hesitated.
“I know you’re scared, but you got this. Astarion would never let anything happen to you or the baby.”
“I know. I just don’t want to mess anything up… He hasn’t really had a family. At least not one that he remembers.” You grab the fabric and bunch it up on your lap. “He doesn’t remember his mother and father. the family Cazador made was not even close to something that resembled a family; he just beat them and used them as slaves.” The thought burned white hot in your mind as you thought about everything that monster put him through.
“But now he has you.” Karlach’s voice was comforting. “And the baby.”
“And if something happens and I lose the baby, It’s like I’m taking another thing away from him.”
“You wouldn’t be taking anything away from me.” Astarion said in a quiet tone.
The two of you jumped as you turned to see Asatrion at the door, leaning on the door frame. He pushed off of the frame using his shoulder and entered the room, stopping just a few feet from where you and Karlach were seated on the bed.
“Karlach, would you give me and my fiancee some privacy? I need to remind her of something important.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke.
“Fiancee?” She looked at you.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part too… sorry.” You didn’t look away from Astarion.
“We’ll you told me most of it.” She stood up and walked past Asatrion, reaching the door and pausing. “I won’t tell anyone… that’s for you to decide when and where you want to do so.”
She shot you one last smile and walked out, closing the door behind her as she did. The two of you stared at each other for several moments. You spoke first, not wanting to be in silence any longer.
“Were you listening the whole time?”
“Yes, When I noticed Karlach was gone, I hurried up her to get her before she got to you, but I was a few minutes too late.” He took a seat next to you. “Now, what is this about you keeping the baby a secret because you don’t want to take another family away from me?”
“It’s more than just that. So many things can go wrong, and if they do, I’ll be responsible for taking another family from you.” You spoke, and Astarion laughed. “How's that funny?”
“Because that is a silly thing to think and say, my love.” He cupped your face with his hands. “Karlach was right. I would not let that happen.”
“You can’t know that We attract bad. luck everywhere we go, pretty much. You’ve already lost so much of the family before you were a Vampire… the one when you were.”
“That one wasn’t a family. Cazador made us to be his slaves to make a small man feel big.” He scoffed. “The rats and bugs that often crawled around me were more family than he ever was. As for my family, before I was a vampire, I don’t remember them, so I have no comment on how they treated me.” He kissed your lips gently. “You and our child growing inside of you are my family, and there is nothing anyone will do to take that away from me. I would rip whoever apart if they tried.”
“So you think we should just tell everyone?”
“I think it is time to stop being so scared, darling, and start living; you are not your mother and are far past the point of losing this child. For gods sake, you got shot in the stomach, and our child shrugged it off like it was nothing. They are far stronger than you give them credit for.”
His statement makes you laugh. “You are right; they are. Just like their father.”
“Don’t forget their mother, too. How many arrows have I pulled out of you these past fifty years? Probably hundreds. The sacred tissue alone was probably enough to keep our child safe.” The two of you laughed lightly.
“What if we lose them?”
“Darling, it was a miracle that we conceived this baby, to begin with, so there must be a god out there that wants us to grace this realm with our beautiful child.” He kissed between your brows.
“I didn’t think of that…” You were beginning to feel foolish. Pregnancy brain, along with the fears your mother placed in you all those years ago, probably didn’t help you think clearly. “Next time, just hit me over the head when I’m not thinking clearly. “
“Will do, but it’s not entirely your fault. The standard practice for elves to keep this sort of thing a secret is kinda hammered into you.” He stood up and walked over to his bag. “Now, if we announce that we are going to be parents, I want to be a little more dressed up than this.” He gestured to what he was wearing. A white flowy shirt and standard black pants he always wore.
Asatrion reached into his bag and pulled out a red embroidered top. Gold was sewn into the top in a pattern that looked like dragons fighting amongst fire. It was gody and over the top and something that screamed for others' attention.
“Do you have anything else?” You also stood, dropping the towel from around you, and stepped into the white dress you were holding.
“What’s wrong with this?” He looked offended.
“It makes you look less like soon-to-be father and more like douchy Vampire lord.” You turned towards him, doing a twirl. “Something subtle like this, maybe?”
“Fine, I’ll wear my dark blue doublet.” He put the gody monstrosity back and pulled out a blue doublet with gold stars sewn into the fabric. He put the doublet on and huffed at you. “Happy?”
“Very.” You wove your arm into his so that the crook of your elbow was touching his. “Now, let's go; our child is telling me it's time to eat, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Of course not, the others certainly, but not our child.” Asatrion said as he smiled down at you.
The dress put you on full display. Your once smaller breasts were accented by a low neckline that plunged down past the bottom of your breasts. The fabric was smooth over your belly and showed the bump of where your child sat in the safety of your stomach. And a long slit just the length of your dress where you could feel the coolness of the tower.
“I’m never wearing pants again.” You said, reveling in how you felt free and not constricted by any waistband.
“And I told you that I’m fine with that it makes it easier to have you whenever I would like; all I would need to do is bend you over and pull up your skirts.” Asatrion leaned down and bit your ear.
You shuddered. “I don’t think we have time to test that… Our baby needs substance.”
“Of course, But after we are fed, I’m going to eat you alive.” He growled his statement into your ear.
A wave of heat went through you. Astarion kindling your arousal. “We better eat fast than.”
You began moving to the dining hall. Each step becomes more complicated than the last. You fought with every fiber of your being to go towards the Dining hall wearing this dress. To tell your friends that secret that the two of you had been keeping all this time. The questions that they would surely ask. You stood at the door and hesitated.
“Are you ready?” Astarion looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I will be once my heart stops beating so damn fast.” You took a few steading breaths and then nodded to him to open the door.
Astarion flung the door open wide, and you watched as everyone stopped their conversations to look at the two of you. From where everyone was sitting, they would not be able to see the bump that was protruding out from your dress. You watched as Karlach was practically buzzing next to Wyll in excitement. She really was trying her hardest not to let your secret out.
The two of you walked forward toward your friends slowly, fear still gripping your heart. Astarion reached with his other hand and patted your arm. “Everything will be fine.”
“What took the two of you so long?” Gale sounded annoyed as he stood from where he was sitting. “I thought when Karlach went up to get you, you would come down, but then she came down and has been acting like that every since.”
You looked towards her to find that she had a hand placed over her lips and looked like she was going to explode.
“I’m sorry, Gale, it’s my fault. I was having some personal issues I needed to work through.” You had reached the head of the table where your friends were sitting.
You unlaced your arm from Astarion’s and made it easier for everyone to see your baby bump. The whole table stared in shock as Astarion pulled out your chair so that you could sit down. You took your seat. and the table was still silent as Astarion also took his next to you.
Astarion looked around at everyone’s faces. “Well, go on, one of you say something. It’s almost as if you’ve never seen an elf pregnant with a Vampire’s child before.” Astarion grabbed a wine glass and took a long sip as the table erupted with questions.
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longhardtransitionreturns · 10 months ago
Text
Author's note: This is a fictional story about a graphic medical birth in which the pregnant woman is presumed to be in a vegetative state but feels every moment of her agonizing birth.
Tara Strahan, then 22, was seven months pregnant with her first child when she and her husband, Brian, were involved in a horrific car crash during a winter storm. Brian died at the scene; Tara was rushed to the hospital where doctors eventually declared her to be in a ‘vegetative state’ as a result of massive head injuries.
Two days later, Tara regained consciousness but quickly realized she couldn’t move or speak. 
“When I woke up, I immediately wanted to know if the baby and my husband were ok. Then I realized I had a tube down my throat, and I couldn’t move at all, even a finger.” 
Tara had become the victim of a rare condition called ‘locked-in syndrome,’ meaning she had full cognitive and physical awareness, but complete paralysis off all voluntary muscles. She was able to feel pain and understand conversations, but unable to let anyone know of her plight. 
“I realized pretty quickly something horrible had happened to Brian. Otherwise, he would have been there. Instead, it was just an endless parade of doctors, and all of them had already given up on me. All the conversations were about how long they needed to keep the baby inside me, and how they would get it out.” 
Tara’s doctors eventually concluded that the risks of anesthesia were too high to perform a c-section. Instead, they decided to induce her labor, and allow her to deliver the baby naturally. 
Tara, who’d told friends that her greatest fear about giving birth was the pain she’d feel before the epidural took effect, had almost two months with nothing to do but think about labor and delivery with no drugs, unable to move or scream or even regulate her own breathing.
“I was scared to death. It was pretty much all I could think about, and hearing people talking about it all the time made it even worse. There were a group of interns, every day during rounds, who’d joke about whether the labor pains would bring me out of my coma. But the worst was when one asked the head obstetrician if I’d be able to push. He said no, not in the usual way, but the force of the contractions would expel the baby from my body. I kept replaying that sentence in my head, wondering how long it would take.”
Because she was unable to tell doctors if she was having contractions, she was monitored closely throughout the rest of her pregnancy. She knew there wasn’t a set date for her to be induced; instead, the procedure would be performed when she started showing effacement or dilation. 
“There was this one nurse who’d talk to me while she cleaned me. She said, ‘today we’re going to induce your labor and you’re going to have your baby, but you’re so lucky, you won’t feel a thing.’ I wanted to scream so bad, let her know that, no, I was going to feel everything.” 
Three years later, Tara still has panic attacks when she remembers what happened that day. (Editor’s note: what follows is a graphic description of traumatic natural birth, and graphic medical procedures. Reader discretion is advised.) 
“There was an air of excitement, and there were about 15 obstetricians from around the country who’d come to watch. They’d given me muscle relaxants so they could spread my legs, because my muscles had started to atrophy. They strapped me into the stirrups right at the start, and my gown was pulled up to just under my boobs. I felt so exposed, but the crowd of people didn’t even shut up when my doctor reached up inside me and stripped my membranes. I remember thinking how humiliating this was gonna be, which I don’t think I’d considered before.” 
Doctors used pitocin to induce Tara’s labor. Unlike the slow build of natural labor, pitocin often induces strong contractions right away. 
“I could see the clock on the wall. About thirty minutes had passed between the shot of Pitocin and when I had the first contraction. It felt like a vice had been wrapped around my uterus. Had I been able to speak, I’d have been yelling from that very first one.” 
Tara endured ten hours of hard labor, with the contractions getting increasingly stronger. While she suffered, doctors and nurses made small talk about their weekend plans. As the labor went on, some started to complain about how long it was taking. 
“I was in agony. I’d never imagined anything could hurt that bad. I wanted to pant, like I’d seen in Lamaze videos, but the ventilator was controlling my breathing. I couldn’t move at all, and being strapped into the stirrups for my entire labor was torture. My hips hurt so bad, especially as the baby moved down farther and the pressure increased.
There was one doctor who kept talking about his dinner reservations. On and on about wishing I’d hurry up and pop it out. He actually walked over and tweaked my nipple, and made a joke about that speeding up labor. Not only did I feel violated, it set off a horrible contraction, like the worst one yet. I got no comfort, no words of support. I was going through the worst thing I’d ever experienced, and it was like no one even considered I could be suffering.”
As Tara went into transition -- the most difficult, painful part of labor -- she says she heard some of the female medical professionals in the room joking about how much pain she’d be in, if she weren’t in a coma.
“There was this machine, they could tell when I was having contractions. They’d started coming one right after another, lasting almost a minute. It felt like I was being stepped on by an elephant. My back hurt, my cunny and arse were starting to feel like they’d explode. One of the women in the room said, “Whew, we know she’s really in a coma, she’d be screaming her head off if she could feel this.” 
Tara was in transition for over an hour before she finally felt the overwhelming urge to push.
“It was the strangest sensation, I’m not ever sure I can describe it. I needed to push so bad, it physically hurt not to push. But I couldn’t. None of those muscles would obey my commands. And then it was like the doctor said, the contractions got even stronger to push the baby out. I could feel him moving down but it was so, so slow.”
Tara watched the clock on the wall for five hours as she endured the excruciating pain of her baby making its way down into her birth canal.
“I wanted to die. I thought it was never going to end. I was praying for a c-section. I knew they probably wouldn’t give me anything for the pain, but I figured I’d have a heart attack when they sliced into me and that would be better than the agony I was feeling.” 
Tara eventually started having chest pains, and the monitors on her and the baby started to alarm. 
“I remember my chest started hurting after the baby had been stuck just behind my entrance for about two hours. I was so hopeful that they’d finally noticed something was wrong with me, that I was dying in pain.”
In fact, the doctors still didn’t know Tara was in distress, but her baby’s vital signs indicated he was. 
“The air changed in the room. All the laughing and joking stopped. One guy started pressing his whole body weight down on my uterus while I was in the middle of a really bad contraction. It hurt so bad, I actually thought it ripped.
He did that for a while, and then I heard them call for the forceps. I was so afraid, my chest was aching, and my cunny was on fire. I just wanted it to be over. I couldn’t see anything over my big belly, so it was a complete surprise when they jammed the first one up there. It felt like the metal was cutting into my pelvic walls. By the time they got the second one in, I was having a horrible contraction, and it felt like my entire stomach had ruptured.
One of the things I remember so clearly was that they cut the episiotomies, on the top and near the bottom, while I was at the peak of a contraction. I was suffering so much, I don’t know why that stuck out to me, but I remember thinking, ‘those bastards just cut me during a contraction.’
Citing pending legal action, Tara’s doctors won’t confirm how long it took to pull the baby out. Tara says it was at least fifteen minutes.
“They kept tugging and tugging and it really felt like my insides were breaking. My cunny was a mess, and they were pulling so hard I kept getting slammed back down on the metal table.”
Tara suffered a separated pelvis in the attempt to get the head out; it’s the moment she calls the “worst pain anyone could ever suffer.” 
“I couldn’t really even think after my pelvis separated. It was all pain, and I didn’t think it would ever end. I know it took a while to get the shoulders out, because the doctor kept putting his hand inside me, trying to dislodge them.” 
Tara says she lay there, splayed and bleeding from her ravaged genitals, for forty minutes while they worked on the baby. She says she was worried for her child in an abstract way, but was hurting so bad she couldn’t focus on anything other than her gaping sex. 
Tara says she passed out when a doctor pulled her leg back to stick his hand inside her, jarring her broken pelvis in the process. She woke with a pelvic fixator, 40 stitches in her genitals, and absolutely no pain medication.
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azrielslostshadow · 2 years ago
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lemon tart
word count: 1297
azriel x gn!reader
authors note: azriel is cute when he panics. cassian loves to mess with him too. look out for future parts!
pt.2, pt.3
taglist: @andrewgarfield2022 
azriel was gonna kill cassian. 
how could the general of the night court, the man responsible for the high lords' armies actually be so forgetful?
cassian told him it was something about a new mating bond, which azriel knew was ridiculous, cassian and nesta have been mated for 100 years already. he probably just wanted to sleep in with his wife, something azriel figured he would also want if he knew what it was like to be mated to someone. 
either way, he was still pissed off. 
it was also unbelievable that the only thing feyre wanted to eat during her second pregnancy were lemon tarts. lemon tarts specifically from the new bakery the high lady was obsessed with, Lemon Dreams. 
she could have anything in the world and she chooses lemon tarts?
azriel was really reconsidering how he felt about his High Lady. 
he supposed the place was cute… in a country farmish sort of way. it wasn’t really his style, but he supposed he could see the appeal. calming jazz played in the background, while daisies were lay scattered across dark wood counters, and the coffee and berry aroma’s filled the air. it seemed so out of place compared to the dark blue’s, purples, and blacks that normally filled the spaces of velaris’ cafes. 
“anything you’re looking for specifically?” a voice broke out from behind the counter and azriel’s heart fell to his feet. 
there you stood, bright and beautiful and smiling up at him, and oh gods you were beautiful… and speaking right at him! what did you say again? “huh? oh sorry, i-i just completely zoned out, what were you saying again?”
You blinked at him once… twice… and then you giggled at him and azriel thought that if could bottle it up and carry it with him, he might never have to go to majda for healing ever again. 
“its okay. must just be one of those days right?” you clearly carried the sunshine in your smile, otherwise the shadowsinger wouldn’t have to turn away when you made eye contact. 
“yeah,” was he actually out of breath right now? great mother, he was pathetic.
you made your way further down the counter before turning to him again, “so are you looking for something specific?”
“yeah, my friend she wanted a couple of lemon tarts? you have those right?”
“which ones was she looking for?”
“which one?” azriel was confused. isn’t there only one kind of lemon tart?
“yeah, i have lemon-mint, lemon-berry, original, lemon and cream, and i can make specialty tarts for future orders if she’s looking for something in the future.”
it was then that azriel realized why this bakery was called Lemon Dreams. the display trays were filled with lemon desserts. “wow, uh sorry. i didn’t realize that there were so many kinds of lemon tarts… original i guess?”
“original?” 
“yeah! that should work… i hope?”
“hmm…” you started, “who’s it for?”
“what?” there was no way you could know who wanted this lemon tart! velaris is a busy city, you could hardly ever know all the people in your own neighborhood. 
“is she a regular? i remember all of my customers.”
“all of them?”
“every single one! just give me a hint, i think i could figure it out.”
azriel pondered for a moment. it wasn’t like he was putting the high lady a risk… if she really came here so often you probably knew her. and you looked terribly cute, with those hopeful eyes staring into his, “she’s pregnant.”
“feyre?” 
he blinked.
you clapped your hands together, lit up and full of joy, “seriously? i almost thought i was gonna get it wrong!”
“how- how could you possibly know that?” he was shocked. there had to be many pregnant faes who loved lemon tarts!
“i’ve never met someone so passionate about lemon tarts quite like our high lady.” you began pulling various lemon tarts into a bag, nodding towards his left, “she made me that painting right there.”
azriel turned to see a painting of a field of lemon trees under the night sky. it looked exactly like the work he had seen in feyre’s studio a few weeks before. “i didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
“she says this place inspires her. sometimes she brings her sketchbooks and drinks tea in here for hours.”
“really?” 
“oh yeah! honestly, i think she does it to try and get more people in here. i was kind of dying before she started coming around.” 
“really? but it's so… peaceful here.” azriel couldn’t imagine people not wanting to be in this bakery. he wanted to be in here all the time (mostly just to see you smile but regardless he wanted to be there). 
“it’s not very night courtly is it though? i mean that’s fine! but i can see why some might be hesitant to stop by. for you?”
azriel realized you had probably been waiting for him to add to the order, but he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to see you smile again, “what’s your favorite?”
“my favorite?”
“yeah. i’ll take whatever you like the most.”
your eyes light up, “cake or pastry?”
“pastry now, cake next time.” azriel couldn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. 
“lemon danish?”
“is it your favorite?”
“today it is.”
“it changes?”
“every day.”
“well then, i guess i might need to come back and see what else is good?”
you handed him the bag of lemon-flavored treats, “you should.” azriel reached in his pocket to pay you but you stopped him before he could, grabbing his hand and moving it away from his pocket and towards his chest, “it's on the house.”
“what? no. i should-”
“any friend of feyre’s is a friend of mine. you can pay next time.” before azriel could argue any more, you had already walked back into the kitchen leaving him alone at the counter. still he dropped a rather large bill in your tip jar, determined to pay. 
---------
he walked back to the house of wind with a smile on his face, only for it to be replaced by a scowl when he saw cassian and nesta lounging on the couches with the rest of the inner circle. 
“you’re late, brother.” 
“cas if you don’t shut it i’ll rip your wings off.”
cassian visibly flinched at the threat, but still looked toward the bag of goodies, “whatcha get for me?”
“nothing,” azriel slapped his hand away, “you’re not pregnant are you?”
“i could be if you loved me more.” 
the group erupted into laughter as he handed the bag to the high lady, “for you, sister.”
she began digging through the bag, “thanks, az! i can’t tell you how much i’ve been craving these.”
“it’s all she asks for.” sighed rhys, voice tired from his mate’s antics and new love of lemon tarts.
“oh, what's this?” feyre lifted a pastry into the air.
“mine. sorry, i forgot to take it out.”
“is that a lemon danish?” mor exclaimed, entirely perplexed as to why the shadowsinger knowingly purchased a treat, let alone a lemon-flavored one. 
nesta scowled, “why are you freaking out over a lemon danish?”
“because azriel hates lemons?”
“you hate lemons?” asked, feyre.
“he’s hated lemons for as long as i can remember!” cassian jumped up, “cute cashier or something?”
“i like lemons!” argued azriel. 
cassian just gave him a look, “then take a bite.”
“fine!” the shadowsinger argued, before sinking his teeth into the treat, immediately regretting the decision. It was entirely too sweet, too sour, and just not at all something he liked. His face twisted, clearly not enjoying the dessert, while his brothers cackled at his misfortune. “i hate you both.”
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shuinami · 1 year ago
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Jess and Hobie: their defining strengths + their weaknesses
I had a thought about Hobie while I was writing, have been thinking about Jess for a while and then this post about Miguel came out and it made me kind of want to yap. I'll only talk about Hobie and Jessica here because I'm biased + Peter & Gwen have been talked about a lot + I linked a post about Miguel + Miles & Pav have simpler, more obvious flaws that basically come down to youthful naivety.
I also find it really interesting that their flaws are basically opposites, Hobie's comes from "inconsistency" whilst Jessica's comes from stubbornness. And again, both these flaws come from their greatest strengths.
TL;dr
Jess' defining strength is her resolve when it comes to fighting for what's right and tussling with destiny but it causes her to have a one-track mind, even if it comes to dedicating herself to something wrong (from being misguided).
Hobie's defining strength is his optimism (e.g. anarcho-communism) but the extreme difficulty of pursuing those ideals and the struggle against systems can bring that optimism to a breaking point, causing him to be inconsistent or, more directly, to give up.
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I think people forget that Jessica's pregnancy is by design and not just a 'feature' of Jessica Drew as a character. She was deliberately chosen to be represented in this stage of her life and I think it is so important to her character, even if it's not in the traditional way that pregnancy is typically portrayed as in media.
I think her pregnancy shows the kind of person she is: most obviously, it's cold, hard evidence that she's a bamf who takes care of spidey business even while pregnant.
More importantly to me, though, there's an implication that, as her universe's one and only spidey, she has been the one to save the day and been the change she wishes to seek, effectively enough that she feels comfortable bringing a baby into the world.
Unlike someone like Peter, she does not make the choice between bringing her child to work with her or leaving them behind. She just has to do what she needs to do to make sure her kid is safe, there's no failing for her. During her pregnancy, it's always going to be a matter of life and death. Jess is well aware and, instead of shying away from action, she's just committed to not making those kinds of mistakes. To get over her losses. She's going to take charge of her own world's destiny as she has always done and she's going to make sure it's good.
Her strong allegiance to Miguel's ideas is her most glaring flaw to us as an audience because A. we're seeing things through Miles' eyes, she's standing in the way of him saving his father and B. we know that Miguel can't be right about canon events - we know they wouldn't make the movies as bleak as that.
Of course, taking a step back from our perspective, it's also a flaw because she is being antagonistic to a teenager as a grown adult. It might make her seem cold and harsh.
However, Jess was the one to vouch for Gwen, to take her in, even though Miguel didn't want her to and they could have left things up to the web of destiny. Jess trusts her own capabilities but she doesn't trust the world to be kind. She doesn't assume Gwen can handle things just because she can, either. On top of being sympathetic, I think her dedication to being the change she wishes to see is why she accepts Gwen as a student; she trusts that a young girl can make the world a better place too, it's not a thing where she wants to micromanage everything. She just wants to know the multiverse is in safe hands. That's her "great responsibility".
The only reason she is following the anti-Miles agenda is because Miles, as far as she and anybody else in-movie knows, is jeopardising the existence of every universe (insidiously via the holes). Maybe, in another position, say, a bright-eyed teen who mainly worried about high school and puppy love, she would be more willing to risk things, to see how it goes.
She's not in that position though. Her world that she felt confident she had the power to keep safe has been made uncertain. One day, it could just go poof, along with her baby, and she wouldn't be able to stop it in the moment. If she makes the right decision now, if she doesn't make a mistake, she can prevent it. It's understandable that she's going to do whatever it takes to prevent anomalies.
What was the canon event chosen to represent her?
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Her version of the moment from "The Final Chapter".
It comes from a story that largely focuses on Peter's personal life before spiralling into action to make up for a mistake that has made Aunt May fatally ill. In the panel, Spider-Man is trapped under machinery with the cure - the thing that will absolve the mistake - just out of reach. As the lair is flooded, drowning is imminent.
Against all odds, though, Spider-Man pushes past what should have killed him and rises to the occasion, with the thoughts of saving Aunt May and refusing to have a repeat of Uncle Ben.
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"I won't fail you. No matter what - I won't fail."
Jess has had to handle her own fate as well as her world's. Now that the multiverse is involved, it's not going to stop at her own universe. She has to stop this. She won't fail. As per the dialogue between her and Gwen in ATSV, she's made a mistake before (by getting too close to someone) but she tells Gwen "I got over it". Sounds so savage in the moment but she still gives Gwen a chance to make her own situation right before letting her get kicked off the team. Helping Gwen in spite of the anomaly would be a mistake if she couldn't handle this.
And when the Spot gets away and Miles enters the picture? The gloves come off. It's tempting fate at that point. Jess' no mistakes mindset pushes her to even prepare to roll up on a teenager.*
Her greatest strength is her resolve - I mean, hell, she doesn't let even pregnancy slow her down when it comes to saving the world - but it causes her to be stubborn and leads her down a misguided path.
*By the end of the film, she seems to be questioning Miguel's method, though. On top of the fact that BTSV is obviously going to end on a good note, I think Jess' fight against destiny is going to have her come around in the end as Miles is doing the same thing.
Onto Hobie:
I luv luv luv Hobie as much as everyone else, he's definitely my favourite but I feel he has his flaws too (which tend to make me love my faves more lol).
In fact, I think he says what they are when we first meet him, though they are veiled as jokes.
I find that the audience tends to position him as a perfect distillation of anarcho-communism at its best. I think the teen spideys see him in a similar light; they see him as effortlessly cool & charismatic, a wise mentor figure ("use your palms" + his play fighting with Pavitr featured him taking on the stance of a boxing trainer as Pavitr tried to punch his palms) but he's not like the adult adults - he's relatable, he's cool, he's anarchist, he's not always on their case like Jess and Miguel.
He neither calls himself a hero nor a role model... but he is the perfect hero and role model, right? He's the best! He's the only one who's looking out for Miles and, when Miles is getting chased down by the entire society, what does he do?
He... quits.
Wouldn't that perfect hero we all believe him to be swoop in with his cape, know exactly what to do and save Miles, the underdog? He can't have possibly known Miles would manage against the society and, if he knew it was possible, then why wouldn't he lend a hand? He didn't drop off the watch in Miles' dimension, he gave one to his bestie, Gwen, likely in the scenario that she wanted to quit or got booted because 'it [didn't] work out'.**
I think Hobie's major flaw is his lack of consistency, as he famously said himself.
He has a strong moral code - he believes in the right things for the right reasons... but communism and anarchy are pretty much impossible to properly/entirely employ in a system that is consumerist, capitalist and authoritarian. He riots, he fights, but it's never over. London isn't free. In my experience, people with strong moral compasses tend to have issues with themselves because they hold others to higher standards than most and hold themselves to even higher and impossible standards (think Diane from Bojack Horseman).
One of the first comic panels I encountered of Hobie was him getting real with Captain Anarchy about losing morale because, despite killing President Ozzy Osborne, the face of fascism in his dystopia, nothing changes. He wasn't able to save the world like a hero in a movie or like a proper role model. He 'failed'. When you give your everything and nothing changes, no matter how optimistic, clever or read-up on theory you are, it can be hard to keep going.
And what is chosen as his defining canon event?
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His version of Spider-Man quitting in "Spider-Man No More". Rather than being fed up with the world antagonising him as 616 is, Hobie is done with an antagonistic world.
The Hobie/Spider-Punk that has been built up externally, as far as I understand, would never give up. He'd keep raging forever and ever because that's the cool thing to do, because it's the heroic thing to do - because it's the right thing to do.
But under the mask, he's just a teenager, imperfect as any other.
He's still a Spider-Man too. Before the bite, he was another lanky black boy in racist-af, peak National Front, send-the-blacks-and-the-Asians-back, '70s England. He's a nerd, as evidenced by his ability to build such a high-tech watch, especially as a teenager who wouldn't have had access to anything like it until joining the society, meaning he had to pick it up quick. And I'm to think he didn't have any Flash-esque characters in his life? "Come out of it."
As Spider-Man with the mask on, he yells to the rooftops; as Hobie with the mask off, he mumbles and whispers. Sure he looks cool now but people don't tend to come out of the womb as Spider-Punk. On top of that, he's still so young and surely has plenty of room to grow.
I believe he joined the society in earnest, optimistic that he could help the multiverse but eventually reached his limits with actively facilitating death and trauma, with saving the multiverse not meaning freedom in his own universe, with being shackled to the web of destiny. I'm not convinced he made the watch in one day; I think he had been planning on quitting for some time and was waiting for the right moment (as he also wanted to support Gwen because friendship is important to him). That's why he tries to dissuade Miles from joining but, when he does leave, he doesn't go out in a riot, he doesn't even leave knowing that Miles has people on his side other than him. Hobie just quits.
I think his greatest strength is his optimism (his anarcho-communism & adamance about "love, joy and freedom" as per the un-permitted performance art pieces in his montage) but he's smart and he's been through shit - he isn't naive like Pavitr or Miles - the great heights of that optimism lead to intensely low lows.
**(I don't really see why or how he would have been able to predict everything that happened in the chase. I know that the watch is set to 1610 but if Hobie believed Miles would make it out of 928 and get back to 1610, would that not be things 'working out'? Or did he predict that he would get to the go-home machine but was the only one who considered that he would be sent to the place his spider came from. Why? And why wouldn't he set the watch to 42 if he knew Miles wouldn't be in 1610? I feel like the 1610 on the interface is just there to be there and that Hobie gave Gwen the watch so she could have the freedom to leave 65 if she wanted to, in the event that she quit the society because they captured Miles or because Miguel kicked her out as Jess kept warning.)
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neontokyoo · 3 months ago
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What comes now?
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Just a cute little fic I put together today after looking through my camera roll and finding an old pregnancy announcement for my husband. I desperately needed to write something so why not do it now while I’m inspired by two little gremlins, and old memories? 😂🫶🏻
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Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav Genre: fluff Summary: After finally defeating the Netherbrain Tav finds herself expecting Halsin’s baby after years of trying without success. Warnings: mentions of infertility and miscarriages, possible bg3 spoilers, implied bear sex, let me know if I’m missing something.
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It was about nine AM when Tav finally rolled out of bed and decided to do something more productive than being a bear in the morning and refusing to get up. There was always something to be done around the house. Right?
Getting out of bed, she quickly changed into better clothes to wear around the house or working outside, and threw her hair up to keep it out of her face.
The house was almost spotless, as she had nothing better to do everyday while her husband was away working in the woods behind her house, but there was a garden she could tend to, at least.
But it wasn’t until she started to move that she was hit by a sudden nauseousness. Her stomach lurched as she ran back towards the washroom to vomit.
She had a suspicion to what might be causing the sickness, but she found it hard to believe considering she and her husband have been trying for years and haven’t had any luck. And when they went to check with a doctor to see if everything was alright, they had told the couple that they couldn’t find an issue in either of them.
But she knew that she was pregnant. Somehow. Even though the baby was as big as a poppyseed and she wasn’t showing yet. She’d known since the day before, and today, she was going to tell Halsin.
Tav didn’t really have much time before her lover returned home, trying to get everything set up and ready within the next fifteen minutes. But she had just enough time to run into town and pick up some baby clothes and a pair of tiny brown shoes to match the little bear onesie. And when she got home, she placed the clothes and the shoes on the small wooden shoe rack by the front door. And to finish it off, she hung up and small wooden board above the shoe rack that read: ‘Starting our new adventure! Baby Silverbough, 1495!’
She didn’t want to get him too excited since she was still in the early stages of pregnancy and it was a pretty high risk, but she didn’t want to wait until she was showing to tell him, either, so this would have to do.
About two minutes after Tav finished setting up the house, the door flew open and she went to greet Halsin, who was taking off his shoes.
“Welcome back love,” she said sweetly, “would you mind putting your shoes on the shoe rack today please?”
Halsin froze, confused. She’d never had to ask him that before. But she didn’t give him enough time to question her before she spoke again.
“Put your shoes on the shoe rack.”
He was still confused, but he decided to follow her commands, placing his shoes on the wooden shoe rack. He froze when he saw the baby clothes—the sign. He was speechless. His eyes wandered from the baby clothes to his wife, back to the baby clothes before staring at Tav in disbelief.
“You’re being serious?” He managed to choke out over the growing excitement.
All she could do was nod, tears swelling in her eyes as she spoke again. “Dead serious.”
Halsin, too, had tears in his eyes as he took a few steps forward to embrace his lover. It was almost a bear-hug, but not quite. It was less suffocating.
They began to sway back and forth, crying into each other’s arms.
“You truly are amazing, you know that?” Halsin praised, looking down at his lover with a small, loving smile. “You never fail to surprise me, always making the impossible happen.”
“It truly is a miracle, isn’t it?” She purred.
He wrapped his arms around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was sweet and passionate as he involuntarily started to explore her body, only for her to push him away.
“Don’t get too touchy, now. I’m not taking the risk of losing this baby after only knowing about it for two days. We both know how wild you get during sex.”
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