#like my entire lower abdomen looks distended

[spectreofthewoods]

.

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You ~ENDING~

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 20

Chapter Summary: My ill fated attempt to tie everything up nice and pretty and end on a positive note. In my head, this went a different way, but I decided to go the happy route for everyone

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of blood and childbirth 

“I feel like a blimp.” Faye groaned, giving up on trying to fasten her sandals herself and plopping down on the bed instead.

“I think you’re gorgeous.” Henry soothed, straightening out his tie in the mirror and crouching down to help her with her shoes.

“I can’t see my feet.”

“They’re still here.” Henry chuckled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her swollen belly.

“What about my vagina?” Faye grouched, smoothing a hand along her bump.

“I plan on thoroughly investigating that later.” Henry purred, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Why not now?”

“Because we’ll be late if we do. Now come along, darling. We both know everyone is dying to see the bump.” Henry encouraged, standing and gently helping her to her feet. They had posted earlier that week to his Instagram about their newest addition. Just a picture of a Superman onesie, captioned “Baby Boy Cavill, coming early next spring.” To say it had blown up would be an understatement. This was going to be their first public outing since they had announced the pregnancy. Faye had gone back and forth several times on whether or not she had wanted to actually accompany him, ultimately deciding to spend the evening out with her fiancé.

“Carry me?” Faye whined, giving him a pouty look.

“I’ll carry you around all you like after the premiere. If we show up in wrinkled clothing, people may get the wrong idea.”

“Henry, I’m pretty sure they know we’ve been having sex.” Faye pointed out, gesturing vaguely toward her belly. “Plus, you’ve done a wonderful job of making sure I’m satisfied at all times.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Henry chuckled, placing a hand on her lower back to urge her to the door and quickly readjusting himself in his suddenly too tight trousers. This woman was going to be the death of him. All she had to do was allude to sex, and all the blood would rush straight to his groin. He was fairly certain she had trained his dick to get hard with just a look, not that he was complaining. He’d heard several men grumbling about how their partners didn’t want anything when they were expecting. He seemed to get lucky with the opposite. She’d been much friskier during her first trimester, but after she hit the halfway point, she was damn near insatiable.

“Now make sure you behave. Hands to yourself.” Henry murmured in her ear, the couple stopping just long enough to remind the babysitter that Briar had to be in bed by eight and to tell the little girl goodbye.

“You were joking about the hands to myself thing, right?” Faye questioned almost as soon as the driver had rolled up the partition.

“It’s been less than two hours.” Henry half laughed, tangling his fingers with her wandering digits.

“So? Are you really going to turn down getting busy?”

“Darling, we’ll make a mess right before we end up in front of a ton of cameras.” Henry pointed out, kissing the back of her hand lovingly. “Just try to contain yourself for a few more hours, then I’ll be yours all night.”

“All night?”

“All night.” Henry confirmed, kissing her temple adoringly and gently placing a hand on her swollen stomach. “You look beautiful.” Henry whispered, shamelessly staring at her cleavage.

“Don’t be a tease.” Faye pouted.

“My apologies, darling.” Henry chuckled, resting his cheek against her head.

~*~

“I’m not leaving this house again until this baby is born.” Faye declared dramatically as she flopped down on the couch.

“Does that mean you’ve decided on a home birth?” Henry asked, glancing up from the puzzle Briar was trying to put together.

“Yes.” Faye growled, glaring down at her extended belly. “Tell me, Mr. Cavill. Is there a particular reason you decided to put a gigantic baby in me? Hmm? Is this some sort of payback for something?”

“Darling, the doctor said he’s only slightly larger than average.”

“Baby brother is BIG!” Briar giggled.

“Yes, he is.” Faye agreed, pushing herself up from her slouched position. “He also likes to kick Mommy in the ribs.”

“I’m sorry, darling.” Henry cooed, pushing himself up from the floor to sit next to her on the couch.

“You should totally carry the next kid.” Faye grumbled, leaning against him.

“I would if I could, darling.” Henry assured, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“My feet are swollen, my belly is huge, I’m pretty sure I just peed a little and all I can think about is oranges.” Faye grumpily listed off, wiggling her way to the edge of the couch and rocking herself to her feet.

“Oh…” Henry mumbled, his eyebrows pulling together as he watched the wet darkness rapidly spread across the back of her sweats and down her legs.

“Oh shit.” Faye gasped, staring in horror at the wetness soaking into her pants. “Oh fuck… Henry!” She yelled, trying to peer over her stomach to see her legs.

“Yes?” Henry asked unsurely as he stood himself up, intent on cleaning the mess before it soaked in anymore.

“I don’t think that was pee.”

“What?”

“That. Wasn’t. Piss.” Faye ground out, snapping her head around to look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to understand, darling.” Henry admitted, his brows pulling together as he studied her face. “Wait… you don’t mean?” Henry whispered, realization washing over his face. “But he’s not due for another couple of weeks!”

“Well, it looks like he was just as tired of waiting as I was!” Faye grumbled.

“Mommy, you had an accident.” Briar pointed out as she put the last piece in her puzzle, hopping to her feet and scampering off down the hall, assuring her mother she would find her something else to wear as she ran off.

“Ok… I’m not going to panic.” Henry promised, more to himself rather than to his fiancé. “I’m going to call the doula and the nanny. Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?”

“I’m not contracting, I can walk.” Faye pointed out.

“Just in case it starts, then.” Henry suggested, resting one hand on her lower back and taking her hand with the other, keeping pace beside his fiancé as she did an odd combination of a shuffle and a waddle to the bathroom.

“FUCK!” Henry shouted as soon as the door was closed, his heavy footsteps falling down the hallway as he ran back to the living room, frantically trying to locate his phone. “KAL!” Henry called, his wild eyes darting around the room. “Kal where’s my phone?!”

“KITCHEN!” Faye yelled from the bathroom, rolling her eyes to herself. ��So much for not panicking.”

“Thank you, Kal!” Henry called back, his rapid steps sounding again as he crossed the house, snatching his phone from where it was peacefully charging on the counter, hitting the contact number for the doula and impatiently listening to it ring.

“He does know the dog can’t talk; I promise.” Faye sighed, shoving her wet clothes down and sitting on the toilet to kick herself free. “Papa’s just a little excited right now. He’s going crazy waiting to meet you.” She assured her swollen stomach.

“Faye?” Henry called softly from the other side of the door, slowly cracking it open and giving her an apologetic smile. “She’s asking questions I don’t know the answer to.”

“What does she want to know?” Faye asked, watching as he slowly slid his giant frame into the bathroom with her.

~*~

“You’re doing so good, darling.” Henry whispered, gently running his hands up and down his fiancé’s back. “Another one’s coming up, deep breath.” He instructed, his eyes flicking to his watch back to Faye. He gripped her hips firmly and dug his thumbs in right where she’d shown him so many contractions ago, rubbing in slow small circles to ease the pain in her back.

“I wanna get in the tub.” Faye groaned as the tightness in her belly began to ease.

“Alright, darling. I’m going to need you to stand up with me.” Strong arms wrapped around her and slowly helped to her feet; an adoring kiss being planted to the crown of her head. “Now I need you to walk with me, can you do that?”

“Yeah. It’s not bad between the contractions.”

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” Henry assured, taking her small delicate hand into his calloused paw, slowly leading her to the bathroom. He let her rest against the sink as he fiddled with the taps, plugging the drain once the water had warmed.

“Fuck… Hen…” Faye hissed, her jaw clenching along with her distended abdomen.

“I’m right here, I’m right here.” Henry quickly took her back in his arms, letting her lean against him as he tried to find the spot on her back from the new angle.

“For fucks’ sake, how long has it been?” Faye groaned, helping Henry pull her shirt off and toss it onto the growing pile of laundry she was creating during her labor.

“Just over three hours.” Henry informed, biting his lip at his fiancé’s hopeless groan.

“That’s it?!”

“You’re doing so good.” Henry repeated, expertly unclasping her bra with one hand and casting it aside to help her step into the warm waiting water. He settled in next to the tub, holding his phone up where she could see it and pulling up one of her favorite shows, hoping to distract her.

~*~

“I wanna push.” Faye gasped, her knuckles going white as she squeezed the side of the tub, her entire body tense with a contraction.

“That’s great, that’s your body telling you you’re ready to have your baby.” The midwife assured, gently wiping her face with a wash rag. “You’re in charge here, how do you want to do this? Do you want to stay in the tub, or do you want to move somewhere else?”

“I’m staying.” Faye groaned, maneuvering herself to her knees with Henry’s help.

“You’re so close, darling.” Henry whispered, kissing her forehead adoringly, wincing slightly when her next contraction came, and her nails dug into his arm. “You’re doing so good.”

“Henry, I need you.” Faye hissed, desperate hands attempting to drag him into the tub with her. “Come here, please.” She pleaded, throwing her arms around his shoulders when he carefully lowered himself into the tub with her.

“I’m right here, darling. I’m right here.” Henry assured, rubbing her back softly, letting her lean into him as much as she wished. He paid no attention to the blood tinging the water or her nails digging into his shoulders. Instinct took over when Faye said she could feel the head coming. He reached between himself and his fiancé, gently cradling his son as he was pushed into the world.

“He’s here. He’s here.” Henry gasped after a final push, bringing the baby to his chest, quickly wrapping an arm around Faye’s shoulders to ease her back against the side of the tub.

“He’s here.” Faye breathed, a tired smile spreading across her face as Henry gently laid their son on her chest, peppering her forehead with adoring kisses and pushing her wet hair from her face.

“You did it, Faye.” Henry whispered, smiling down at the baby in her arms, his heart swelling with pride. She did that. His fiancé just brought a new life into the world. In that moment, he was simply blown away at just how strong she could be. It took almost all the mental focus he had remaining not to propose to her again, still crouching in the blood and goo filled water with her.

Reluctantly, Henry removed himself from the tub, taking a second to appreciate Faye’s demand of the oversized bathtub when they had renovated the bathroom. He was quick to rinse himself off in the other shower, throwing on dry sweats and returning to the bathroom where Faye was still gushing over their newest addition. The baby was handed to him while the midwife attended to his fiancé, draining the tub and gently rinsing away the sweat and mess clinging to her skin with a cool stream.

“He’s so tiny.” Henry whispered in awe, staring down at his minutes-old son.

“The hell he is!” Faye groaned, shooting him a look fit to kill.

“I think he agrees with you.” Henry grunted, his son’s chubby fist finding his chest hair and gripping it tightly, squirming his newly freed limbs the best he could in his tight swaddle.

“He’s only small compared to you.” The midwife compromised, Henry helping Faye step out of the tub with one arm, the other tightly cradling their son to his chest, hovering close as the midwife helped her to redress. “You have another child already, right? So, you know the bleeding is going to continue for a few weeks. Make sure you rest as much as you can. Now isn’t the time to be a hero. You’ve just gone through a lot; you need time to heal.”

“Can I have our son back now?” Faye asked, raising an amused brow at her already doting fiancé, who reluctantly handed the infant back to his mother.

“Rest, darling.” Henry reminded her, securing one arm around her rapidly deflated waist and holding her tight to his side, walking her back to their waiting bed, their son’s bassinet already pulled up close to her side.

“I wanna hold him a little more.” Faye pouted when Henry took the baby back, holding her hand to help her into bed the best he could.

“Lay down first. You’re getting shaky.”

“Then can I hold him?”

“I suppose, since you did just birth him an all.” Henry playfully sighed, handing off their son again and seating himself on the edge of the bed, content to just watch mother and child for the time being.

~*~

“Papa?” Briar yawned, shuffling into their room with her stuffed bunny in tow.

“Yes, princess?” Henry mumbled, already half asleep after changing his son and passing him back to his mother for a midnight feeding.

“He too noisy. Can you tell baby brother to be quiet? I can’t sleep.”

“You heard her, Liam. No more screaming in the middle of the night. You need to use your inside crying after 9pm.” Henry informed his young son, the only reply being his son’s usual cooing grunt as he continued to nurse.

“Sorry, Briar. He’s still little, he needs a lot of attention right now.”

“I like attention too.” Briar pouted, stubbornly climbing into their bed and perching herself on Henry’s stomach as she watched her mother.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” Faye sighed, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

“How about Mummy takes you to the park for a little bit tomorrow?” Henry suggested

“Liam is too little to be bringing out to a playground, Hen.” Faye pointed out, relatching the child when he stopped to stare at her nursing bra in confusion.

“So feed him right before you go, and again when you get home. You need a break from baby duty, babe.” Henry suggested, shifting Briar off his stomach to sit next to him instead.

“I wanna go, Mommy!” Briar whined, looking up at her mother hopefully.

“What if he gets hungry while I’m gone?”

“I know damn well you have extra in the fridge. It’s a bit of a surprise when you add some of that into your coffee in the morning by mistake, by the way.”

“So that’s why I was missing some.”

“I thought it was that ‘fancy’ cream you get from the farmer’s market. I was wrong.”

“It was in the same bottle, though.”

“You little…” Henry grumbled, pushing himself up on his elbows to glare at her properly. “Why would you refill a container with milk that looks startlingly similar to what was in it in the first place? You set me up for failure!”

“Mommy, I sleep with you tonight?” Briar asked hopefully, blissfully ignorant to her parent’s playful discussion.

“No, baby. You’re not going to get any sleep in here with us. Baby brother wakes up too much at night.” Faye explained, glancing hopefully at Henry. Understanding what she was trying to tell him, Henry snatched the little girl up and rolled out of bed, smiling at her excited squealing as he carried her down the hall under his arm surfboard style.

“Do you want me to turn on your Baby Shark music?” Henry asked once she had been replaced in bed, Kal lazily licking at her ear when she rejoined him. He didn’t bother even waiting for an answer before flipping through her tablet, pulling up the hour long loop they usually played for her at bedtime.

“Kal wants ice cream.” Briar informed him, batting her lashes up at her father figure hopefully.

“Kal knows he can’t have ice cream. It’s too hard on his stomach.” Henry yawned, looking suspiciously at the canine.

“No, he wants it for me, silly.” Briar giggled.

“You know the rules, princess.” Henry sighed, brushing her hair from her face softly. “Now get some rest. We all love you.”

~*~

“Did we wait long enough? Do I still look like a slob?” Faye fretted, turning this way and that, her eyes fixed on her lower stomach, trying to see if it still protruded further than she wanted.

“Faye, relax. You look amazing.” Her sister assured, turning her away from the mirror. Briar was happily running in circles with her little flower basket, all too excited to be involved in the affair. Her twin sister was in a beautiful, blue floor length bridesmaid dress, her younger sister in a matching shorter dress and her brother struggling with the matching tie.

“Are you ready to marry?” Her mother asked her giddily, squeezing her daughter’s hand softly.

“I am. I really hope he is too.” Faye replied, stealing a glance at the closed door.

“Oh please, he was ready to marry you the first time he saw you.” Her brother scoffed, finally taming his tie into something passable. “You’ve been killing the poor guy making him wait this long.”

“I didn’t want to get married while I was pregnant.”

“I really don’t think he would have cared.” Her youngest sister pointed out. “He seems pretty convinced the sun shines out of your ass.”

“Hear that, Delilah?” Her brother jumped in, setting his teasing eyes on his sister. “Get you a man that looks at you the way Henry looks at her.”

“It’s the same way you look at pizza.” Their sister added.

“I’ll find someone when I want to.” Delilah grumbled, shooting her younger siblings a glare out of the corner of her eye.

It took the effort of three people to hold Briar back once the music started, all desperately explaining that she was going to be almost last to go. Once the time came, she threw all her flower petals on the ground at the start of the runner and then sprinted down to the other end while laughing wildly. It was deemed that was close enough and it was finally Faye’s turn to walk the aisle.

Her father’s arm was a steady, comforting constant, something she desperately needed in that moment. She could swear she saw a small tear forming in the corner of her husband-to-be’s eye, but mostly his face was one of proud surprise.

Niki was elected to hold the ‘ring bearer’ the baby happily drooling all over the ring box he was allegedly in charge of. The photographer went nuts with pictures when Henry gently pried the box from his son’s chubby fist, removing the ring from inside and handing him the box back to chew on.

The couple stared into each other’s eyes, everything else melting away in that moment as they both closed a chapter in their lives, only to begin a brand new one they hoped would be filled with adventure with two simple words.

“I do.”

Tags:  @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43

[teiasviago]

une nouvelle vie, chapter 5

AO3 | @frogsmulder + @freckleslikestars

The Seldens’ honeymoon goes by in bliss across the Atlantic among the French, and they return to their lives irreparably changed in some ways while immutable in others. “It shall be a new adventure,” Lily declares, referencing their relatively new attempts at procreation. Lawrence agrees. But as the months start to go by, leaving them unexpectant of a bundle of joy, their happiness starts to dwindle. “I am sorry I cannot do this for you.”

Lily’s face is tucked against her husband’s sternum and her voice is whisper-soft. “Oh, Lily...” Selden sighs, tucking her further against him as her tears wet his chest. “We will find happiness in the two of us if our efforts do not come to fruition, I can guarantee it. We have not weathered tumultuous storms in our lives to lose sight of ourselves now.”

“But what if I am unable to bear children? That is all women are meant for, do you not see?”

“Do not let those words reside in your mind, my love. You are much more than your ability to have children.”

“If I am not a mother, then what am I meant to be? I have unintentionally hinged the purposes of my existence on ensuring your happiness and bringing forth children into the world. What should I do with my time if it is not spent rearing our children?”

“Lily, please, it is alright. You have talents—you are excellent at storytelling, for example.”

She sniffles and raises her eyes. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly. You could write them. Even if they are stories meant to entertain children, your stories are of value. Do not despair, my love. You are worth more than your value to society. No matter what, you have my love to see you through every hardship.”

Lily nods and presses a kiss to her husband’s clavicle. “Alright.” She takes a shuddering breath. “I shall sleep on this.”

—

In the proceeding months, the Seldens finalize their purchase of a townhouse with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, deciding to leave two of the three undecorated. Lawrence suggests making one of them into an office and the other into a guest room a several months later, his voice soft and casual to convey that he is not attached to his proposals, and that what they hope the rooms will be used for will come in due time. Their anniversary passes with little fanfare, only a private dance in their sitting room used to mark the occasion. Lily throws herself into writing exercises to occupy her time, spending hours at her desk in the sitting room planning and writing down ideas. Some days, Selden has to retrieve her from her stupor of inspiration and guide her back to their bed, where they reconnect.

They know one another with the truest of intimacies now, and it shows in how they anticipate the other’s actions with frequency.

“I shall be leaving for a few months,” Selden reveals during dinner one day in the fall. It has been a year and a half since they married. “I have been chosen to work on a case in England. You could come with me, if you’d like, though you would not know anyone there.”

Lily shakes her head demurely. “I shall stay here and look after the house, avidly awaiting your return,” she decides, placing her hands over his.

They both smile; a small happiness has started to bloom in the house born of small concessions of acceptance. One day, Lily knows, they may fully bloom, but there is still hope for another way. All is not lost just yet. Selden bids her farewell the next day and she watches him exit the door and catch a hansom with a wistful look on her face. Perhaps some time apart—time during which they must halt their attempts at procreation—is what they need. Hope is a dangerous, feeble thing sometimes.

—

“Lily!” Gerty wears her surprise openly and her friend wears her worry the same way. “Has something dreadful happened?” She ushers Lily inside her flat with a tender hand.

“I am well, Gerty, only—something has happened. But it is not dreadful, it is wonderful.” Lily sits down on her friend’s couch, her hands fluttering around each other.

“Then why do you look worried?”

Lily bites her lip before sighing heavily. “I strongly suspect that I am pregnant at long last. But this could not come at a worse time; Selden is off in England, as you know, and I cannot decide if I should write to him about this as he would want. I should like to surprise him with the news in person, and if I wrote to him not only would that not be possible but I know that he would travel home as speedily as possible to the detriment of his career. He shall make it back with plenty of time to spare before the birth if he sees the case through.”

Gerty lowers herself onto the couch as she ruminates on Lily’s words. “Well, if there is time enough for the case and the birth, I believe that you should wait to surprise him when he arrives home. It would be the loveliest of surprises.”

“So I shall omit this wondrous development? I would be stronger in my convictions if not for the notion of lying to my husband sending my stomach into knots.”

Gerty’s hands envelop Lily’s and she meets her dependable friend’s eyes. “It is not a lie. You are planning a surprise! What could be more innocent than that? It is the most spectacular of surprises, at that. He will forgive you immediately, if he even views the situation as having something to forgive as a part of it.”

Lily offers her friend a small smile, tears of joy gathering at her waterline. “What would I ever do without you in my life, Gerty? I owe you.”

“We are friends; friends support each other in times of need.”

“Nonetheless, I appreciate the time you have taken throughout our friendship to help me. It is unparalleled.”

—

Carry Fisher is the third person to be made aware of Lily’s pregnancy, and only on the condition that she keep it to herself. Lily enlists her help in having new dresses made to accommodate her slowly-expanding abdomen and bustline. By the time Carry declares that she has “popped”, she has a whole new wardrobe. And now Selden is set to return.

Lily sets about checking the windows for a sign of his returns after breakfast but finds herself tiring easily from her rounds through the front rooms. She sighs and sits down to write, hoping to distract herself from the anticipation of her husband’s arrival. Fortunately, Lily is able to lose herself in the story (her first is set to be published soon!) and separates from her desk only to eat, relieve herself, and exercise—the last of which is a thinly veiled excuse to check outside the house.

When ten o’clock in the evening rolls around, Lily resigns herself to the fact that Selden’s traveling is delayed and readies herself for bed. She smiles as she brushes her hair, the baby moving inside of her. She has gotten to know her and Selden’s child thoroughly since the flutters started; it’s most energetic in the morning, acting as if Lily has starved it by not eating at five o’clock. She cups her belly and feels the baby’s foot.

“You are so loved, little one. So loved.”

—

She wakes up in the middle of the night, frowning and tired. Lily snuggles into the bed in an effort to fall back asleep when she hears Selden quietly clear his throat in the bathroom. She opens her eyes and sits up, her suspicions confirmed when she sees the glow of a candle through the cracks around the door. She grins and adjusts the pillows behind her back as she waits for her husband to return.

After a few moments, he pushes the door open, pausing in the doorway when he realizes she is awake. “Apologies,” he says, making his way to his side of the bed after putting the candle in the secure holder at the foot of the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Come to bed,” Lily tells him, offering him her hand. “I have much to tell you.”

As they situate themselves in bed together, he eyes her distended abdomen, and she cannot help but grin again. “You are...”

“With child, yes,” she finishes for him, pressing her forehead to his as she brings his hand to her belly. “I wanted to surprise you in person. We have a while yet before the birth—at least two months. I knew that if I wrote to you of the news, you would put your entire being into traveling home unnecessarily quickly.”

“It would not be unnecessary, Lily. You and the babe are the lights of my life.” Selden slides down the bed and presses a kiss to her belly before returning back to his original position. “I won the case, as well. You two are my lucky charms, too.”

Lily laughs at that as she nuzzles her husband’s face. “Nonsense, Lawrence. You are an excellent lawyer; you won the case because you are intelligent and dutiful, not because we are lucky. Luck had nothing to do with it.”

“We shall have to agree to disagree,” Selden says, his gaze sliding down to her belly again. “Please write me next time, my love. This is a wonderful surprise, but I feel that I have missed so much. This first child of ours shall be a learning experience. Next time we will both be much more prepared, and I would be less anxious towards getting home.”

“If you happen to be traveling during, I shall write you a letter once a week of the elder child and the one growing in my womb by then. You would feel as though you had not missed a day. But it is late, my dearest, and the babe takes much of my energy for its own.”

Selden nods before starting to pull the fabric of her nightgown up until her belly is exposed. She places his hand where the baby is poking at her and revels in his expression of awe. He presses a slew of kisses to her skin before resting his forehead against her belly. “You are wondrous, my dear,” he tells her. “Absolutely spectacular. You have only become more radiant as time goes on. Selfishly, I am glad that no one else sees you in all your glory.”

“I do not mind, Lawrence. Yours are the only eyes I would wish to have on my body.” Lily watches as her husband slides up the bed again with hooded eyes, and lets them slip closed when he eases a hand beneath her abdomen and between her thighs. “Your fingers are the only ones I would want to touch my body, as well.”

“I love you,” he murmurs against her lips.

“I love you, too.”

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Metamorphosis Ch.26: Over the Sea

The Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night with Jamie? How would that change the plot points we all know and love?

We’re coming down the home stretch folks! Our get away car is in the harbor! We just gotta get em there! 

You can find a Master List of chapters here on tumblr or read the whole thing on AO3. 

February 21st, 1744; The Abbey, Scotland Jamie.

I stifled a groan in Claire’s curls as the church bell tolled three, my arms reflexively tightening around her as I tried to ignore the fact that it was time to get out of bed.

I hated to wake her.

The night had not been an easy one for my wife — were they ever these days? — and Claire only just managed to fall back asleep, but I knew she’d need a wee bit of extra time to dress this morning… as her appearance was vital to our ruse.

Smoothing the tousled curls away from her brow, I placed a kiss on her temple, then trailed one after the other until I reached the base of her neck. She stirred at my touch, her eyelids flickering and one corner of her mouth pulling upwards towards a smile, but didn’t wake. My hand lowered to her hip, then slid along the distended curve of her abdomen as my lips found hers.

Her own hands moved then, reaching and finding me in the darkness.

“Good morning,” I murmured into her palm, brushing a kiss across it as her hand drifted round to the back of my head.

One eye cracked open to scowl at me at this greeting, her words slightly jumbled but still coherent, “Thisn’t morning, y’oaf. Dark’out.”

I curled my lips between my teeth to keep from grinning at her offended expression, the innocence of slumber still lingering on her face and made her appear very much like a spoiled, pouting child.  

Claire felt my suppressed amusement and struggled to open both her eyes. Her brow furrowed with the effort it took to spear me with what I’m sure was meant to be her best look of consternation, but it fell short. I kissed her soundly in an effort to keep from laughing outright, rousing us both completely and bringing us directly back to why we’d risen at this inhospitable hour of the morn.

She sighed a moment later, a wistful look dancing across her now clear eyes.

“It’s time, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” I swallowed hard, excitement mixing with the fear of the unknown as my stomach churned.

“Time to leave.”

... Half past 4am.

The wind howled around us as we stepped from the shelter of the abbey out into the open courtyard, cautiously picking our way across the frozen cobblestones. It’s nasty chill bit at any patch of exposed skin it could sink its teeth into and my cheeks and hands were already red and raw from ensuring the rig was properly loaded with our things.

I hastily grabbed for the carriage door, lunging for it before it was really in reach as I was eager to get Claire out of the cold, but she was of a different mind.

“You won’t say a word if we’re stopped, will you?” she inquired, pulling up short and studying my face intently. “Or only in French if you must? That cap’ll do to hide your hair, but there’s no mistaking your voice.”

My hand instinctively went to the back of my neck, feeling the rough wool of my knitted hat. It would keep me warm, certainly, but pulled low as it was, it went a long way to hide the telltale auburn hair that was plastered all over my broadsheets.

“Aye, er, oui Madame,” I promised, squeezing her hand reassuringly with a forced smile as I helped her onto the first step.

Wobbly as a new foal, I steadied her as she picked her way into the dark carriage. Murtagh held his lantern high, giving her light to see as she eased herself into the padded cushions and meticulously arranged the folds of her cloak.

“The same goes for you, hmm?” Claire’s head snapped up to look at us, her gaze locking onto my godfather’s. Her eyes narrowed in a rather unreadable expression of consternation mixed with something akin to a challenge as she continued, “Not a word from the both of you. Let Francis do the work and the talking until we’re aboard ship.”

I caught the twitch of my godfather’s lips out the corner of my eye — despite his heavy beard and the early morning darkness — and marveled yet again at the relationship the two of them had formed while I was away.

“And I can quite handle myself, thank you very much,” she added in afterthought and under her breath, almost as if to reassure herself as it was to us.

Claire caught the mirth bubbling up beneath my gathering nerves and reached out her hand to me. I took it in an instant, leaning in and keeping my voice low, even though I was sure no one but our present company could hear us.

“May your brilliant mind and unbridled tongue keep us safe, my love,” I blessed her in French, then dropped my hand to the swell of our children. “And may you both bide until we are safe.”

She crossed herself, the barest hint of a shudder running through her, and I dove into the carriage beside her, pulling her into my arms and vowing, “No harm will come to you, Claire. I give you my word.”

“I know,” she murmured back after a moment and I loosened my grip.

Sitting back, she waved me off.

“We need to leave if we’re going to catch the tide,” she insisted with a smile that gained confidence by the second. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I blinked at her for a moment, which made her laugh — a heartily welcome sound — and I shook my head with a smile of my own.

“Oui, Madame,” I stepped back onto the ledge of the doorway, “I am entirely at your service, my Lady Beauchamp.”

She nodded curtly and dismissed me fully, all but shoving me out into cold with a single look.

I grinned at her and exited the carriage, shutting the door firmly behind me. Turning, I moved to join Murtagh on the bench up top but hesitated a moment before climbing aboard.

That they might be safe… both she and the children.

My eyes slid shut, my heart offering up the rest of a prayer that I could not put into words.

“Come along, a bhalaich.”

Murtagh’s command was urgent yet gentle and I reflexively moved to do so, hastily crossing myself before climbing up beside him with a fluidity that hadn’t been mine since before my injury. I nodded to him and with a flick of the reins, he set us into motion.

I held my breath as we passed through the main gate and left our safe haven behind.

There would be no going back.

We hadn’t traveled long before we encountered the first crofter’s hut, still shut up and slumbering in the early morning dew. I scanned the road ahead and caught sight of a small copse of trees off to the left side. This particular stretch of road wasn’t bounded by forest, so it would make a perfect lookout post, should a soldier or two want to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the abbey.

And they certainly would.

My gut clenched as we approached, wishing the lanterns posted on the corners of the carriage were bright enough to see what we were about to ride into. The mare on the right snorted to her teammate and I flinched. It took everything within me to not grab the reins from Murtagh’s hands and turn us around.

“Steady,” Murtagh coaxed in the language Claire had instructed us… one I knew he didn’t particularly care to use.

To anyone listening, it’d be logical that he would have been speaking to the horses, but I knew it was intended for me.

… Claire.

The carriage began to slow and I spat out an emphatic, “Fuck!”

I bit down hard on my lower lip, the sharp pain competing against my rolling stomach and spasming back. The deep, frozen ruts of the lane did little to ensure a smooth ride to the harbor and the combination of my raw nerves and the carraige’s jolting, jostling motions were enough to set me completely on edge.

Lifting a hand to the ridiculous bonnet atop my head, I adjusted it slightly and then arranged my skirts around me. Our success was dependent on my looking every inch a respectable woman of wealth and I was determined to have everything in place when that door opened. We came to a complete stop long before I was ready and I forced myself to take as deep of a breath as was possible in my current state.

Here we bloody go, Beauchamp.

Male voices began to bark orders, sending a shiver down my spine, and I steeled myself for the gust of frigid air mingled with danger that was sure to come at any moment. I didn’t have to wait long, for the door opened in the next second and I saw the face of Lady Margaret’s most trusted footman, Francis.

His expression gave nothing away as he offered his hand in assistance — the as yet unseen redcoats obviously requested I present myself — and I donned my most affected air, slipping into the personage I’d crafted in my wakeful hours of the night.

“Tell them I wish to speak to their commanding officer,” I sniffed, drawing my cloak tighter around me, “and do shut the door, Francis, or I shall catch my death of a chill.”

One brow twitched and I caught the briefest of smiles flicker across the chap’s face before he disappeared back into the night, doing exactly as I’d asked.

More voices sounded in conversation outside the carriage, taking on an air of confusion as a whole, with the exception of Francis’ Lowland lilt.

“Ye better do as th’Lady asks, ye ken,” he warned and I couldn’t help but grin in the dark in spite of my nerves. “She’s not one t’bide... an’ she’s a ship t’meet.”

There was a shuffling of feet and a clanking of metal, but one person had obviously moved off and all discussion faded away into nothing. A few moments passed in anxious silence until a new disgruntled voice suddenly asked, “Have you found something, then?”

Bile rose at the back of my throat as I thought of them finding Jamie up above me, but I didn’t waver from my plan.

Negatory remarks followed the new voice’s inquiry and the officer — for indeed, he must be — was informed of the situation.

Francis opened the door again and I launched into my tirade, “What is the meaning of this inconvenience, Captain?! If my ship departs without me, I shall ensure that you are stripped of your position, paraded through the streets barefoot in nothing but sackcloth and ashes, and unable to find a place of employment as anything but His Majesty’s scullery maid!”

The officer stood slack jawed just outside the door in perfect response to my tirade, obviously not expecting a well-bred, highly enraged, loyal British subject on the road at this hour.

“Do come in and explain yourself,” I huffed, beckoning him forward, “you must have a reason for holding up honest traffic in the middle of the night like a Highland bandit.”

His mouth snapped shut at this and his brows rose all the way to the edge of his wig as he climbed inside, a lantern in hand. I blinked at the sudden brightness, but it only helped to permanently affix my scowl.

“Now, who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” I titled my head to the side, feigning interest while looking very much like an addled bird, I was sure.

“Captain George Brooks, my lady, of, ah, His Majesty’s Third Battalion,” he cleared his throat, stammering slightly. “I, well, I sincerely apologize for Private Richardsen’s rather forward behavior and, well, the delay.”

He studied me quite openly, his gaze taking in my fine clothing and warm cloak. The captain seemed to take me for what I appeared to be, for he quickly continued, “You see, Madam, we have word that an escaped convict has sought sanctuary within the abbey and are stopping and searching every conveyance that leaves the place.”

I stiffened at the word convict, but used it to my advantage.

“I must tell you, Captain, that I was the guest of the good brethren and can assure you no such man exists,” I leveled him with a look that made him squirm. “And, certainly, no one of such quality is among my men.”

“I consider the Scottish brutes to be a detestable sort and am on my way now to leave this godforsaken country,” I sniffed, forcing myself not to choke on the absolute fallacy of my own words.

Captain Brooks nodded at this, but it was clear from his gathering frown he had questions for me.

“There’s a respectable tavern in the village where my men are quartered,” he shifted, leaning forward slightly. “Why stay with the heretics when other suitable — and dare I say safer — lodging was available?”

I snorted, feigning disgust, “I’d rather sleep in the gutter than under the roof of a Highland villager, Captain… and as for the heretic Papists, you forget that a good many of His Majesty’s subjects are such.”

He caught sight of the jet rosary on display around my neck and had the good grace to wince.

“My apologies, Lady…,” he trailed off.

“Beauchamp,” I supplied for him, ready to rattle off my concocted scenario. “My husband is Lieutenant Commander Alexander Beauchamp of the Royal Navy and I’m meeting him in Portsmouth… that is, if you and your men will permit us to be on our way.”

My companion shifted uncomfortably once more, groveling, “Yes, well, I see there is no reason that you should not be allowed to travel on. I shall send a man ahead to alert the guard at the port. They’ll see that you board and depart without interference.”

“How good of you, Captain,” I commented, forcing a smile as a sudden wave of nausea overtook me.

Hurry up, Captain, or you shall be wearing my breakfast.

... Jamie.

The captain strode out the door of the carriage, nearly knocking Francis off his feet, and beckoned wildly to his lieutenant. I tensed, nearly grabbing the reins out of Murtagh’s hands, but instead steeled myself as I caught his orders on the wind.

“Ride ahead,” he motioned for a horse to be brought round, bellowing, “Tell Phillips to let them through without trouble and ensure no one delays their departure... And If I hear that so much as a seagull spoke out of turn to the Lady Beauchamp, I shall have both your head and your commission, Hawkins!”

Lieutenant Hawkins swung into the saddle with a barked yes, sir and was barreling down the path ahead of us a moment later.

I blinked in surprise, then let the darkness of the night hide the beginnings of a smile that warmed my face.

Well done, mo nighean donn.

…

Claire.

The remainder of the ride to the harbor was something akin to cruel and unusual punishment.

The road had gotten better some time ago — the carriage no longer pitching from side to side with every rut we hit — but I still felt every stone, every bump we drove over. The muscles of my lower back and left hip spasmed with a ferocity that I had never experienced, protesting their rough handling in a language that I could not ignore. My stomach rolled, my chest heaved, and it was everything I could do not to lose my cookies all over Lady Margaret’s velvet cushions.

Breathe, Beauchamp.

I slid my eyes shut. It was dark as the deepest cave around me, but somehow the feeling of closing my eyes still gave me a barrier to the outside world.

You did it.

We’d passed through the checkpoint undetected, sent on our way the very man in charge of the entire operation. I couldn’t let my guard down yet, though, couldn’t celebrate this victory until we were really, truly well on our way on the open sea.

I shook my head, trying to fixate on something steady, something outside of the tossing, tumbling barrel I was currently deposited in.

Jamie.

I did allow myself to smile then.

What did he think of it all? Of our walking through right under the redcoats' noses?

I was thankful he had Murtagh at his side through the whole ordeal, but I still wished I could have been with him. For my presence beside him to steady his nerves.

Who are you kidding, Beauchamp?

You couldn’t have climbed up there next to him if your life depended on it.

Well… maybe only if it truly depended on it.

My hands moved, my arms cradling the curve of my distended abdomen as I shifted against the seat cushions. Climbing aboard this conveyance had been interesting enough… I didn’t want to think of what getting aboard the Demeter would entail.

The footman Francis was a short, sender slip of a thing, and while that suited his career perfectly, it wouldn’t suffice should I need assistance boarding the ship.

No one would think twice of Jamie’s strong form helping me… would they?

My heart lurched to a stop, skipped a beat, then thundered on as the carriage began to slow and I realized the next hurdle was upon us. We didn’t stop, but continued to crawl along for many minutes, allowing me time to right myself and prepare for act two of my facade.

When Francis did open the door… I was ready.

… Around 5am, Aboard the Demeter; Jamie.

A dhia, what a woman.

I shook my head in amused astonishment as I watched Claire’s rigid form dismiss Colonel Phillips with a flick of her hand, then turned to the captain of the ship and pointedly asked for shelter from the cold. We hadn’t the time to inform him of her ruse before we boarded, but he gruffly acquiesced and motioned for her to follow him into the cabin.

Seeing that Phillips had disembarked and none of his men were looking towards the ship, I slipped into the shadows of the gathering dawn and trailed after them.

���I do apologize for my tone on deck, Captain,” I heard her sigh as I entered the small, cluttered room. “We sincerely appreciate your kindness and understand the risk you’re taking in bringing us aboard.”

“Aye, well,” he shifted from foot to foot, not quite sure what to make of my wife, “‘Tis nothin’ much… so long as ye stay within an’ out of my men’s way, ye ken.”

I’d gathered in our short time on deck that the crew’s opinion of my wife was something akin to an omen of bad luck — as a woman aboard ship often was — and had no intention of letting her out that door again until we were disembarking onto French soil.

Claire turned as the ship’s captain left, realizing I was there for the first time and her face completely crumpled. She looked as though her body was about to follow suit and was at her side in a moment, gathering her into my arms and tucking her head securely beneath my chin. I could feel her begin to tremble from head to toe against me and looked wildly around for a place for her to sit.

Not readily finding one, she clung to me as we stood in the middle of the room, swaying slightly with the motion of the ship.

“Ifrinn,” I muttered when I found I could finally speak, “I shouldna let you do tha’, mo chridhe.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” came her soft reply, muffled by the front of my coat.

I shrugged at this, knowing she was right, but wishing my heavily pregnant wife hadn’t had to be the one to navigate us through the lion’s den.

“But ye did verra well, indeed,” I had to admit, more than a hint of pride coloring my voice.

She snorted in objection to this and I grinned, turning back her hood and shedding her of that ridiculous cap in one movement. Placing a kiss amid her curls, my hand cupped the back of her head.

Lifting her chin, she looked up at me, fatigue evident in her eyes. I kissed her soundly then and she turned in my arms, looping her own around my neck with a contented sigh.

“Are you cold?” I asked, placing a kiss on her warm neck but had felt her chilled cheek against my own.

“No, not very,” she rested her head against my shoulder. “It’s much better in here.”

I nodded, agreeing as my gaze lifted and I began to examine the quarters we’d been given.

Captain’s quarters they may be, but it was also clearly a storeroom for a good portion of  his cargo. Crates stacked upon crates loomed around us like a forest of trees, with bundles and baskets cast about on the floor in unorganized chaos. There didn’t seem to be a bed to be found  in any resemblance of the word and this gave me no amount of disquiet.

Resigning myself to a sturdy crate that was roughly sitting height to my left, I slowly moved Claire in that direction, easing her down onto it as I went in search for better accommodations. She flapped a weary hand at me, encouraging me on my way as she loosened her stays and let out a shaky breath.

I wove in and out of the stacks of goods, desperate to find a place for my wife to lay down. There were large wooden trunks and canvas wrapped parcels, small wooden crates and barrels of various volumes and heights… but no bed. I discovered something resembling a hammock slung in one corner, but as that would never do, I dismissed it immediately and continued my search, doubling back and returning a different way than I’d come.

“Jamie?”

Claire’s voice had me leaping over a canvas wrapped bundle and grabbing for the bucket I’d caught out the corner of my eye. I reached her just in time for her to deposit her breakfast in the receptacle, her eyes wide and cheeks gone an unearthly pale.

“Christ, I’m sorry,” I gushed, keeping a stray curl from getting in the way of things. “I shouldn’t have left yer side… tis the same wi’ me, too.”

In truth, our current rhythmic motion was nothing compared to what we’d experience once we left the harbor, but I had the good sense to let that be.

Claire shook her head, glowering into the depths of the bucket and grumbled, “It was that bloody roller coaster.”

“Mhmm,” I commented noncommittally, not entirely sure what that was but fairly confident she meant the carriage ride here. “Aye, well, ye’re off it now.”

She retched again, as if the very mention of the conveyance had set her stomach into motion again.

“Shh, my own, it will be better in a moment,” I assured her in Gaelic as I knelt beside her, smoothing back the hair from her face and rubbing her back.

Offering her my handkerchief when she appeared to be done, I took the fragrant bucket from her and set it aside, though within arm’s reach should she need it again.

“Are you alright?” she squeaked, the color beginning to creep back into her cheeks.

I stared at her, my brows nearly to my hairline as I asked incredulously, “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” the frown was back, but I could see that the wheels were churning furiously behind those amber eyes. “You were just paraded in front of an entire battalion of redcoats… that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

I shook my head, shrugging off her concern, assuring, “I’m fine, Sassenach. They didna give me so much as a second glance, thanks to you.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

A slow smile tugged at my lips at her slow, deliberate enunciation of every syllable of this declaration.  

“Aye, I ken jus’ what ye mean,” I reached for her hands, twining my fingers between hers, “an’ I think ye ken me better than I ken myself, at times.”

She snorted at this, dismissing the notion.

“If I do, then it’s the same with me,” she muttered, wiping at her face.

I grinned, squeezing her hands tightly.

“Oh, aye, mo nighean donn… I do, indeed.”

[omoghouls]

sooooooo i was gonna send this in parts on cc but it ended up being almost 1k oops. so here’s a drabble about felix peeing himself over a chamber pot. sorry if i messed up felix’s/lizzie’s characterization ;w;

~

chamber pots give me the same sorts of ideas training potties do tbh. imagine felix feeling a little too prideful to use one - they’re unsanitary, he’d rather use the outhouse off-premises like the dignified man he is. he’s sitting down to work for so long, absentmindedly finishing a first, second, third cup of tea, that he hadn’t realized the growing need in his lower abdomen for the last few hours. no, the thing that finally makes him realize is how it’s started raining - hard. the short walk to the outhouse is going to leave him drenched. no worries - it’s spring, and these storms end as abruptly as they start, don’t they? that’s what he’s going to tell himself. whatever the case, he is NOT going to stoop so low as to use the chamber pot.

the minutes that were going by so fast earlier feel like they dragging on longer and longer. he can’t even focus on writing (i think you said he was a writer? sorry i forgot aaaaaa) or enjoy the soothing effect that rain usually has on him. now, it’s leaving him fidgeting, crossing himself, bouncing his leg where he sits. suddenly, he starts hearing the splatter of rain pouring out of the gutter onto the concrete outside, and its nearly too much. almost shocked by the intense wave of desperation that overtakes him, he stands up straight and mewls, hands shooting between his legs. he momentarily scolds himself for being so foolish, but by god, he’s going to humiliate himself beyond belief if he doesn’t go /right now/. he stares at the chamber pot again, and (foolishly) decides that he’d rather brace the rainstorm than use it, still.

he doesn’t even make the entire brisk walk out the door when he hears the doorknob turn - it’s lizzie! she’d been out for the day, running little errands when she got caught in the rainstorm. “oh, hello, my sweet. would you be a lamb and help me carry these bags to our quarters?” of course even the slightest physical labor is going to worsen his situation tenfold, but it’s of no consequence to help his love, right? so he does. and he tries keep up and to listen to lizzie when she tells him about how nice the shopkeeper was, the cat she fed on the way home, etc., but oh heavens, poor felix swears he’s never had to pee this bad in his LIFE.

when she turns to him, she notices how flushed he is from the embarrassment, tears pricking at his eyes from the sheer discomfort, and how he’s crossing his legs where he stands. “oh, felix, you haven’t fallen sick from exertion, haven’t you?” she looks so sweet and concerned for him, and he can only choke out, “elizabeth, darling, ple - ” and before he can finish, she’s sitting him down on their bed. “don’t strain yourself, my love, i’ll prepare some tea for you. just wait here, okay?”

as soon as she leaves the room, though, felix is back on his feet. he can’t afford to be dignified anymore, he’s full-on potty dancing now, whimpering and whining as he crosses his legs. even if he could slip past lizzie, there’s no way his poor distended bladder would make it whole trip. oh god, he really was going to have to use that chamber pot, wasn’t he? it was so humiliating to use, and now he would have to be in the same house as the love of his life as he dirtied it. he’s so caught up in his thoughts of using it normally that he forgets, for a second, that the kitchen and their quarters are right next to each other.

the sound of the boiling water lizzie’s prepared hitting the porcelain cup sounds so, so similar to something else, and so felix’s body finally gives up in helping him hold it. his eyes go wide in shock as his bladder slowly begins to empty itself against his will. pleading little “no’s”, his eyes lock onto the stupid chamber pot one last time before he practically runs over to it. it’s futile at this point that he’s still pulling his britches down - the wet patch has already spread to his mid-thigh, but he does anyway, and he all but keens into the wall in front of the pot. felix’s knees nearly buckle under him and he moans in both relief and humiliation completely soaking his underwear as the excess splatters loudly into the pot. there are tears running down his face, from the overwhelming sensation of his bladder emptying, and from the humiliating knowledge that he’s making such a huge mess because he couldn’t hold it.

eventually the stream dies down, and he’s left stewing with the fact that he just wet himself because he didn’t want to use a chamber pot - and ended up using it anyway. but he’s taken out of his stupor by the sound of a teacup being set down gently on the table nearby. oh god, lizzie - she must’ve been so disgusted by her husband acting like this, she was going to leave him right there. but no, he’s met with her calming voice before he even turns around, “oh, my poor sick darling. we should get you cleaned up before your tea goes cold…don’t move, i’ll draw us a bath, my sweet <3” suddenly, he goes from being on the verge of tears to even smiling a little. after all, at least the rain had finally stopped.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

NONNY I DO NOT DESERVE YOU OR YOUR BEAUTIFUL WRITING HOLY SHIT🥺❤❤❤🌸❤

Like omg the way you worded things , how painfully aware he became of just how front and center rain and boiling kettles sounds becoming once he passes the threshold of his body's capabilities 🥺💖

And even when he was literally seconds from a full on accident he wanted to stay dignified and not stoop so low as to use what was meant for nighttime endeavors but finally having to cave in once his body had decided for him what was happening is just ❤❤❤❤

AND Lizzie omg , so sweet thinking that Felix had , once more over exuded himself to illness and wanting to aid him because she knows that if she were to have fallen sick, he would do the same for her (😎). Felix letting his self deprecating thoughts run around, thinking that she is going to leave him for doing something so gross but instead he receives compassion and understanding from her is just so🥺😭💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

JUST AAAAAAAA WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW ABSOLUTELY FULL MY HEART IS OF LOVE AND HOW GRATEFUL I AM FOR THIS, ILY AND THIS IS PHENOMENAL AND YOU ACED THEIR CHARACTERIZATION AND I HOPE YOU FIND 20$ SOON🥺💖💖💖

[thirstyforbishiesimagines]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Eugene x female reader with unexpected pregnancy? You choose if it's after the apocalypse or in it! I love this blog💕

Beautiful @rachelfischbach, Part I is finally done! I’m so sorry it took so long! I really wanted this one to be perfect because you were just a gem to chat to while discussing deets with this request. I hope you enjoy it and I’ll get working on Part II & III. Lots of love xx 😘 

.

Unexpected : PART I - Eugene x Reader

* image from Lucydreams, Dangerous Fellows

Word Count: 4,026

Angst

Warning: Profanity (18+)

.

.

“Is everything ok, (Y/N)?”

There was a soft knock on the cubical door.

Sitting idly on the toilet, you stared blankly at the graffitied wooden panel in front of you; unsure of how to answer your anxious friend. Burying your head in your hands, you let out a forlorn sigh.

“Judy! I’m 2 weeks late!” Yanking your pants up, you pushed the door open and let her slather hand sanitiser all over your palms.

“Maybe your body is just under a lot of stress? That’s probably why your cycle hasn’t…”

“Not two weeks late though!” You threw your head back, exasperated – interrupting her.

“Eugene and I… We’re not exactly careful…”

How is he going to react?

Judy placed a gentle hand on your trembling shoulder, reassuring you with a sympathetic smile, “You need to tell him.”

.

The ethereal moonlight illuminated the classroom that you and Eugene both shared. Bathing in the aftermath of your night of passion, you rested your head on your boyfriend’s warm chest; twining and tangling your fingers with his playfully. He kissed your temple softly and you felt a pang of nervousness in the pit of your stomach as Judy’s voice echoed in the back of your mind. You let out a heavy sigh, attempting to shake her out of your head.

“What? My kiss not good enough?” Eugene chuckled as he watched you sit up; caressing your arm gently with the back of his fingers.

Clutching the blanket to your breasts, you furrowed your brows and met his amber orbs with apprehension. The smile on his face faded once he saw your quivering lips.

“Hey? Is everything ok?” He settled beside you and wrapped his arms around your waist; sincerity evident upon his boyish face.

Averting your gaze, you gnawed on your lower lip; contemplating over your words.

“Eugene, I think I’m…” Pausing for a moment, you studied his facial expression. Your boyfriend watched you earnestly, encouraging you to continue with a small nod. “I… I’m pregnant.”

“What?” The golden-haired male stared at you blankly, searching for any hint of humour in your anxious eyes. “How?”

You scoffed at his question, irritated at the fact that he couldn’t put two-and-two together.

“Well, that’s what happens when you have unprotected sex, Eugene. You fall pregnant.”

You were furious with yourself for responding to him in such a sardonic manner – guilt consuming you entirely. It was a harsh reality check towards the stunned male and his brows furrowed instantly at your shrewish remark.

“I’m not an idiot, (Y/N)! Shit! I’m just… I’m just shocked. I wasn’t expecting this at all!”

Tensive silence fell between the both of you.

After what felt like hours, Eugene stood up. His body language screaming with disbelief as he began to dress himself. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, he wandered towards the door - your delicate voice halting him in his tracks.

“Where are you going? Don’t you want to talk about this?”

You felt wetness welling up in the corner of your eyes as you inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your heartache and nerves caused by his unexpected reaction.

“I… I can’t right now. I just need some air.”

As Eugene slid the door shut, you fell onto the floor in a heap - dejected. You huddled into a tight foetal position and allowed the emotions to pour out from your shattered heart, your hands muffling your doleful cries.

A waterfall of tears pooled onto the cold hardwood floor. You stared down at your belly with clouded eyes, remorse and sadness consuming every inch of your body. Peeling your shaking hands reluctantly from your lips, you held your tummy just below your navel; trying your hardest to convey all the warmth and affection you could muster for the little being growing inside of your womb.

I don’t know if I can do this without him, little one…

Deep down you knew that Eugene wouldn’t take the news too well; hence, you prolonged announcing it to him. You feared that you would lose him completely. That he would no longer want you… or your baby.

Has your worst fears become reality?

Maybe your expectations for a better future was unrealistic.

Maybe the notion of raising a child in this godforsaken world was just too simplistic.

Maybe… maybe you were just naive.

The twisted ache in your heart trembled beneath your chest as the thought of losing Eugene over an unwanted pregnancy was too painful to bear.

“Please… don’t leave me…”

Gazing down at your hunched over belly, you exhaled with overbearing pain and stammered, “Don’t leave us…”

Your quiet plea was left unheard and you cried once more, hugging your abdomen tightly. As moments passed by, you let out a mournful sigh; blinking your tears back. With a gentle caress of your belly, you made a silent promise to your unborn child. A promise that you will protect them, no matter what the costs may be.

You fluttered your swollen eyes shut, attempting to sleep – waiting for your boyfriend to return.

The crisp air embraced your shivering form before the morning rays eventually warmed up the empty room, welcoming a new day… a day where you awoke with no partner by your side.

And as days soon became weeks, you both never spoke about that night again.

.

The winter breeze whipped the strands of your (h/c) hair across your solemn features as you sat out on the rooftop, watching idly towards the mist-covered city - overridden by mindless zombies. Alone, you hugged your knees to your chest; shielding your belly from the cold as you nibbled on the chocolate bar that was rationed during the afternoon meeting.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay up here for too long.”

The irritated tone of the man you yearned for snapped you out of your listless stare. Your heart skipped a beat and you tilted your head to the direction of the entrance as Eugene stepped out onto the concrete, his presence - apathetic and sombre. Relieved to see him safe and unharmed from his supply run, you managed a tiny smile as you watched him stop right at your feet.

“Here.”

He thrusts a small water bottle, a large bag of crisps and a protein bar your way, “Found these at a nearby store. You need to eat.”

Peering up to meet his vacant gaze, you gathered the snacks and crossed your legs to place them in your lap.

He was expressionless.

You missed his charming smile and the sound of his spirited laugh. His lack of emotion broke your heart as you only wished to see him beam at you once more.

“Thanks…”

Averting your eyes, you began to fiddle with the ends of your hair anxiously; fearful of the constant rejection as you craved for his company. “Do you have food? I mean, we can shar-“

“I’m fine. You’re eating for two.”

His abrupt words were a painful reminder of your current relationship status. If you tried to strike up a conversation, he would generally cut you off mid-sentence or walk away from you. During meals, you now sat with Judy and Sue while he would be with Zion or on his own. You hated this feeling… this constant ache in your chest. Dropping your head, you struggled to fight back the tears from this continuous isolation.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped your shoulders as the comforting scent of Eugene embraced your senses, protecting you from the bitter cold. Your body relaxed into the residual heat that emanated from his jacket before perking up to see the blonde heading towards the door.

“You should really get inside, (Y/N). Unless you want to freeze to death out here.”

The rhythm of your heart thrummed happily as you toyed with the zipper of the garment fondly. You let out a soft giggle as your lips curled up affectionately. His words were crass, but it was enough for you to know that he still cared.

.

Emerging from Judy’s room, you rubbed your weary eyes and yawned.

Urgh… Why am I so tired this morning?

Your tiny bump was hidden underneath your jacket and you gazed down at your torso, humming softly. An expression graced with a grin as wide as a Cheshire Cat’s, your face emanating with blooming love at your growing tummy.

You must be taking up all of Mummy’s energy, little one.

You gave your distended belly a little rub ‘hello’ before stopping in front of Eugene’s classroom, staring longingly at the wooden door. You couldn’t remember how many nights it had been since you’ve slept in the same room together. The loneliness you had endured was finally too much to bear and it led you to ultimately accept your best friend’s invitation to stay with her instead.

Letting out a dispirited sigh, you began your way to Classroom 1-C.

As you entered the general meeting room, you noticed Judy and Zion engrossed in what seemed to be a serious conversation. Intrigued, you began your way towards them until you felt a gentle hand tap on your shoulder.

“Good morning, (Y/N). Would you mind preparing the food before I commence today’s meeting?”

Lawrence greeted you with a kind smile.

“Sure, Lawrence.”

Pivoting on your heels, you accepted the job and strode back out the door.

“Oi! Wait Up! I’ll come help!”

Recognising the male voice hailing you down, you spun your head around just as you were about to enter the food storage room. A soft smile grew upon your face as Zion approached - his crimson hair bouncing as he jogged down the hallway.

The two of you began to ration the morning meals for all eleven people residing in the school and you sighed, realising that there would only be enough for the next week or so.

“I know it’s soon, but I think we’ll need to go on another food hunt.”

“Yeah… This doesn’t look like it’s gonna last for very long.” Zion nodded in concurrence to your suggestion, “We should let Lawrence know when we get back.”

As you lined the items in a small cardboard box to take back, the redhead perched himself on a desk adjacent to you - capturing your attention.

“So, this thing between you and Eugene has been going on for waay too long.”

Legs crossed on the desk, Zion propped his elbow on his knee - chin resting in his palm. His golden orbs were fuelled with genuine concern; an expression familiar to you way back when you both had dated as teens.

“The guy is like, my idiot brother. He’s my compadre and he won’t even confide in me.” He sighed, furrowing his eyebrows sympathetically, “It’s been months, (Y/N)… What happened between you two?”

Exhaling deeply, you dropped your gaze to your feet; contemplating on what to say to your friend.

“I… It’s a little personal.” You decided not to tell him the truth as to why Eugene hadn’t spoken to you, “It’s not like I wanted this, you know. He seems to want space, so I’m giving that to him.”

A flooding warmth glazed your (e/c) eyes as you tipped your head back, rejecting the unshed tears from falling.

“I miss being with him…” The note in your voice went quiet. You grit your teeth, finally coming to terms with your worse fears, “Zion… I don’t know if he loves me anymore.”

As your emotions washed over your shaking form, you sobbed uncontrollably; burying your moistened face into your trembling hands.

If even Zion had noticed the distance between Eugene and yourself, then it would obviously be evident amongst your friends. This notion tore your heart in two and the hope you held onto was beginning to fade.

Why is he still avoiding me? I mean, he’s half responsible for… for this!

You laced your arms around your waist as you let the tears stream down your cheeks.

Why does it feel like this is punishment for falling pregnant?

I hate what he’s doing to me! I hate feeling so hopeless!

You soon felt arms wrap around you - strong and gentle. That comforting feeling was followed by a gentle pressure on top of your head as Zion nestles his cheek upon you. It was very uncharacteristic of him to be compassionate; however, you welcomed the embrace, nuzzling into his broad chest.

“I’m worried about you guys. I’m worried about you, (Y/N)…” He placed his large hands over your shoulders and pulled away - smiling tenderly. “You know, if it’s any consolation, I’ve seen that moron stare at you from time to time. He looks like a man in love to me.”

“Thanks, Zion. I needed that.” Using the ends of your sleeve to wipe away the tears, you managed a weak smile.

His crimson hair blazed from the morning sun shining through the half-boarded windows - a sure grin across his porcelain face.

“Let’s head back. I’ll talk to him if I get the chance.”

.

“It has been brought to my attention that we are low on food.”

Lawrence pushed up his round specs as he explained the dire situation to everyone gathered in 1-C.

“I will personally go out for this supply run and if you don’t mind, Ethan, I’d like you to assist me as well.”

Ethan nodded his head in agreement, his usual nonchalant face never giving away his thoughts.

“Zion and I will come too. We know exactly how much food is needed to keep us going for another few months.”

Eager to help - and to get some much-needed fresh air - you shot Lawrence a look of determination and he accepted your voluntary offer with a warm smile.

“YOU CAN’T GO!”

All eyes fixated on Eugene, who had been quiet since the commencement of the meeting. He shifted awkwardly and averted his gaze from everyone else, “I mean… I’ll go instead of (Y/N)… I remember which store has the most food supply from the last run.”

YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS?

You took a deep inhale before contending your cause.

“I already have the inventory memorised. It’ll be easier if I go. Just tell us where this place is.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you narrowed your eyes at him - refusing to back down. You needed to get out of the confines of the school, cabin fever beginning to eat away at your sanity.

Eugene shot you an insistent glare, “It’s been a while since you’ve been out there. It’ll be faster if I go since we had to make new safe routes to different locations.”

“Well, obviously it’s been a while! You keep butting in before I could even volunteer to go into town!”

“It’s because you’re more suited for yard and hallway patrols than outside. Zion and I-“

“EXCUSE ME? MORE SUITED? CARE TO EXPLAIN, EUGENE?”

Your temper erupted as rage crept up your neck. A scarlet hue to complement your angered face.

You were fuming!

You had barely spoken even a few sentences together for months and you couldn’t believe that he had dared to claim that you were not ‘suited’ for supply runs.

Shocked by your outburst, Eugene froze with his mouth agape - speechless.

Vexed by his stubbornness, you sprung to your feet and curled your fingers into a fist, “I’ve been cooped up in here for ages because you keep making excuses as to why I can’t go! I. AM. DONE. HERE!”

You stormed towards the door before turning your gaze at Lawrence, who sat there dumbfounded by the situation, “I’ll prepare my bag and I’ll meet you guys at the gate.”

A pair of footsteps raced after you as you exited the classroom, furious with what had transpired.

.

Slamming the door open to Judy’s room, you gathered your essentials with sheer frustration; preparing for your trip out into town - Eugene hot on your tail.

“I’m going on this food run and that’s FINAL!”

“LIKE HELL YOU ARE! Not in your state!”

Anger surged through your veins and you snapped your head back to scowl at the man you hopelessly yearned to be with again. You desired nothing more than to be enveloped in his arms; however, at this moment, he was the last person you wanted to see.

“MY STATE? Are we actually going to talk about ‘my state’? After you walked out on me that night I told you I was pregnant, you have NO SAY in the decisions I make.”

Motioning an imaginary circle around your growing belly, you glared at him with indignation, “This? This right here is going to happen whether you like it or not. However, me being pregnant shouldn’t hinder me from going out on runs, and I for one will NOT let a man dictate that. Especially someone who hasn’t been there for me emotionally for the past few months.”

Maintaining eye contact, you curled your hands into a fist once more and let out a stuttering sigh before continuing your outburst, “I needed you, Eugene. My body is changing. I’ve been nauseous and hungry, and I just needed my boy-… I just needed you to hold me… To tell me that everything will be okay and that we can survive in this damned world with a baby. But all you’ve done was avoided the situation. Avoided me! You’ve shut yourself away instead of working this out together. It’s selfish and cowardly, and…”

Biting your lower lip, you stopped yourself from saying any more in fear that you may regret it later.

“You know what? Just… Just, forget it…”

Exasperated, you swung your backpack over your shoulder and made your way towards the exit until Eugene suddenly grabs your wrist. His irritated expression fell into distraught, remorse evident in his crestfallen gaze; unable to form the words that he wanted to convey.

Instead, he manoeuvred his hand to hold your own; caressing your knuckles gently with the pad of his thumb. His eyes remained fixated on the feel of your skin against his, clearly missing the physical connection as he displayed a long-awaited sign of affection.

All the anger was swept away with his touch alone and you desperately wanted to throw your arms around him - to feel the warmth of the man you love so dearly. With all the emotional agony he had put you through, you desired to know only one thing.

Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you guided his gaze to meet yours - searching for answers.

“Do you love me?”

Your whisper had caught him off guard and he looked at you with slight apprehension, his vibrant orbs suddenly glazed with tears.

“(Y/N)… I-”

The hesitation in his voice shattered your heart and you withdrew yourself away from him completely - lips quivering in trepidation.

Why would he hesitate?

Does he doubt his love for me now?

Why do I keep allowing him to make me feel this way?

It felt like the ground beneath you would give way – enticing you to fall into the welcoming sense of oblivion. A nauseating sensation began to churn within the pit of your stomach and you felt like you were going to be sick. Before all of this happened, Eugene was always so affectionate, always doting; his love was unconditional, and he would always express that to you.

If he feels nothing for me… for us, then I will love you with everything that I have, little one!

You subconsciously, placed your hands over your belly - safeguarding your child.

A cocktail of emotions whirled through your mind and you could no longer hold back the tears. The sadness resonated in your voice as you whispered.

“Actually, no… don’t answer that. I don’t think my heart can handle the constant rejection.”

Anger, sorrow, and hopelessness consumed your entirety as you sprinted out the door; not wanting to look back at the remorse shrouded upon Eugene’s tear-stricken face.

.

Zion looked up at the window where his friend remained, watching you and the others exit the school gate. The redhead gave Eugene a reassuring nod. An unspoken promise to make sure that you remained safe and unharmed. The hooded male caught his gaze and motioned his head in return before focusing his melancholy eyes on you; wishing that he had seized the chance to apologise, to tell you how he genuinely felt about everything… to have tried harder to live up to the man you needed him to be.

Desperately longing that he had returned to you that night he left you.

Eugene slammed his fist against the window, angered at what he believed was a cowardly act. He should have told you that he was anxious and scared… scared that he wouldn’t be good enough to be a father. Ultimately, his life would change with ‘baby’ in the picture and he was unsure of whether he was ready to fulfil such an intimidating role.

Eugene’s breath stammered as he mentally beat himself down at how selfish and inconsiderate he had been these past few months. He couldn’t imagine what you would have gone through. He could only assume that you weren’t ready to become a mum yourself. That you were also afraid of the future ahead.

The painful guilt he felt for abandoning you during such a daunting and vulnerable time ate away at his conscience. Regret devoured his entire being and he felt utterly pathetic that he was unable to express how much you truly mean to him.

As you disappeared around the corner of the gate, he placed his hands on the frosted glass - attempting to reach out to you in a desperate hope that you would feel his undying love for you.

.

The suffocating silence in 1-C was deafening.

Witnessing the scene of only two of the four hurtling back into the gates stunned everyone into paralysis. Inundated by a swarm of zombies, Lawrence and Ethan were forced to cut the search short; unfortunately resulting in you and Zion becoming separated from them. With darkness threatening their safety, the two men had to retreat back to the school with heavy hearts.

Eugene stood there in disbelief before a flood of remorse washed over his trembling body. He hunched over, winded from the news. Clutching his hand over his shirt, his breath grew rapid as his heart hammered underneath his ribcage - the pain overwhelming to bear.

“(Y/N)…”

The whisper of your name was meek, agonising, and sad - he couldn’t believe that you were gone.

Images of your enchanted smile bombarded his mind and his breath hitched within his throat, torn at the thought he may not ever see it again.

I shouldn’t have let her go! I should have forced her to stay!

Internally screaming at himself with regret, moisture glazed over Eugene’s eyes; threatening to escape as guilt began to tear at his soul.

His legs froze on the spot, overcome with mind-numbing despair. His thoughts, running a million miles an hour; uncertain of how he’d ever be able to live on without you by his side.

It’s because of me… This is all my fault!

FUCK! How could I have been so stupid?

You were no longer within the safe haven of the school building… no longer within reach of his grasp.

I… I’m the reason she wanted to leave.

It’s all my fault… IT’S ALL MY FUCKING FAULT!

Why did I let myself become the reason she wanted to leave?

The blood in the young man’s face drained as his whole world began to crumble. The chance to prove to you that he loves you and that he would try his damn hardest to step up to his responsibilities were ripped away from him.

But if Lawrence said that they got separated, maybe…

Heart pounding, his eyes widened with sudden realisation as he muttered to himself - adamant with his decision.

“I need to see for myself!”

Before anyone could stop him, Eugene had grabbed his bag, readied a weapon and bolted out the gate alone in search for you and his unborn child.

.

.

x mod bambi

[lihikainanea]

I just want a part 2 to the tummy story. When he comes to her some months later, thicc, strong, healthy with a sunkissed belly and defined v-line. But still eating to much.

Anonymous said: how would tiger react to bill putting on more weight than he expected? not a lot, of course, but to where hes softer than he was before castle rock. would she love it, and would bill be insecure about it?

I cannot BELIEVE ya’ll are just out here every day in your lives, slamming the hell out of my tummy kink button. HOW DARE YOU. This was the original tummy rubbing drabble, and honestly, I just can’t get enough. My heart skips too many beats every time I look at photos from what was the MASTERPIECE of SDCC 2018, with his tiny little double chin and his patterned shirts and his small chubs on the cheeks and that one photo where he’s rubbing/scratching his own tummy in That Way that guys do that basically makes all my lady parts cry.

BUH BYE, WORLD.

***

He pushed his chair away from the table and groaned, lifting his shirt to unbutton his pants before running his hand over his protruding gut.

“Kid, you’ve gotta stop”— he paused, a burp interrupting his sentence—“You’ve gotta stop with all this food.”

“No,” you teased, and you stood from your spot at the table, making your way to him. You climbed gingerly into his lap, looping an arm around his shoulders and brushing the curl back from his forehead as he held onto you, his other hand still rubbing his stomach. You leaned, kissing his nose.

“You come in here after a shoot, a literal bag of bones, sharp angles sticking out of you everywhere, your eyeballs looking ready to fall out of your head, and you expect me not to take drastic measures?” You accused. He rolled his eyes, rubbed at your back affectionately. Hiking his shirt up, you bit your lip in glee when he pointed to his gut, round and soft and bigger than you had ever seen it.

“That was weeks ago, tiger. I think you fixed that pretty quickly,” he grumbled, poking at his own soft spots, “I’m squishy everywhere. I hate this.”

You had to stop yourself from leaning down, nipping a mouthful of his soft stomach, gliding your hands over it and squeezing it gently. And he was right, when he walked into your apartment looking skeletal, you were distraught and afraid to even hug him because he looked so frail. You hated it. His usual hot body temperature was near freezing, he was shivering all the time, and all of his features protruded from his face. His hugs were sharp and not warm the way you were used to, his arms seemed even longer and hanging from thin shoulders, his skin had taken on a pallor you didn’t like. You were pissed.

But a few weeks with you, and he was looking much better. The colour had come back to his cheeks, the hollows filled out, and he was even starting to have a little bump under his chin, a bit of extra fat coming down from his sharp jawline. His shoulders had rounded back out, his biceps filling the sleeves of his t-shirt and the fabric no longer bunched loosely around his back—instead, pulling taught across it whenever he moved. His chest had broadened again, puffing back out, but the part you loved and missed the most—was his stomach. He had always been fit, but there would still be a small, soft patch low beneath his navel that he never got rid of. It was the part he loved having rubbed, the part where he was a little bit ticklish, and the part you loved to nip, grab at. It was gone with how thin he had gotten, but it was back now in abundance. His entire stomach, actually, was carrying more weight than you had seen on him, all soft bits and round edges. You loved it, he hated it, and as much as he loved having his tummy rubbed, every time you went for it he’d hold your hands away, tug his shirt down further. You knew he was a little self-conscious with the weight gain.

You enclosed your hand around his, where it was still rubbing idly at his gut. Intertwining your fingers, you laid a kiss on his lips and smiled down at him, scratching his head.

“I hope you saved room for dessert—” and he groaned, pained—“I made blueberry pie.”

Big, glassy eyes peered up at you, laser focused. His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip.

“Is it…is it your grandmother’s recipe?” He asked. You nodded, kissing him again and moving to get off his lap.

“Of course it is. The best one,” you ruffled his hair as he leaned his head back on the chair, groaning in agony.

You took mild pity on him, cutting him a smaller piece and dolloping ice cream on it, sitting back on his lap as he eyed it wearily and locked both of his arms around you.

“We can share it,” you said, and you laughed as he opened his mouth wide for a bite. Humouring him, you scooped some onto a spoon and popped in in his mouth as his eyes closed. He groaned, happily.

“Fucking phenomenal,” he said as he licked his lips, keeping his eyes closed but opening his mouth for another bite. You couldn’t resist, instead covering his mouth with yours for a solid kiss as he let out a surprised squeak. He smirked when you pulled away, his eyes still closed.

“That tastes even better than the blueberry pie,” he mumbled. It earned him another kiss, and you couldn’t help your gaze from falling to his waist, to where his pants were still unbuttoned, his shirt pulled tightly over the small bulge of his distended gut. You reached for it, a gentle hand just barely placed on it before he swooped in and laced his fingers with yours, placing your intertwined hands on your thigh instead.

Determined—because it really was beautiful, and for as much as Bill loved having his tummy rubbed, you had developed quite an affinity for rubbing it as well—you tried again as he was getting ready for bed. He was sleepy, his eyes starting to close by themselves as he went through his night time routine. Changing into lounge pants and a long sleeved shirt—his body temperature still hadn’t quite come back to normal—you bit your lip at how snug the shirt was on him. It hugged his chest, but it hugged his stomach even more—a bump protruding and clearly visible right above the line of his pants.

You spoke, before he caught you ogling in the doorway.

“Bill,” you said, and he jumped a little at your voice. Looking at you, he moved the toothbrush slowly in his mouth.

“Mmph?” Was his response.

You licked your lips and stared at his abdomen. He eyed you wearily.

“I want to rub the belly.”

The toothbrush stopped moving. He quirked a brow at you.

“What?” And his words were warbled by toothpaste. He spat it out in the sink, rinsing his mouth as you advanced on him.

“Show me.”

“You’re insane.”

You took another predatory step towards him, but he didn’t move.

“Show. Me. The belly.”

His eyes widened and you kept your movements slow, but he made no effort to stop you. Standing behind him, you looped your arms around his waist, leaning your head on his back, and placing both palms gently on his stomach. You squeezed softly and you both groaned.

“Tiger, no,” he whimpered, but he didn’t try to stay your movements.

“Tiger yes,” you said. Lifting his shirt, you glided your hands underneath and placed them flat on his lower belly, kneading softly. He drew in a deep breath through his nose.

“Stop,” he whined, “I’m not….I’m not ready.”

You moaned, pressing your lips to his back and squeezing low on his belly. He practically purred.

“Pats, too,” he requested, and you hid your smirk in his back. Letting one hand go, you patted softly all over his stomach while the other one kept kneading lightly. He sighed, completely content.

“I want to lie down for this,” he murmured, and catching a glimpse of him in the mirror you saw his eyes closed, his head tilted slightly back. His hands were braced on the sink, supporting his weight. You smiled, giving his pudge a bit of an extra squeeze. You patted him softly.

“Come on, let’s get you comfy then.”

You grabbed his hand and led him to your room, getting him to stretch out on his side on the bed. Stealing a kiss, you settled midway down his back and looped your hands around his waist. You slung your legs over him however you could manage, his long body surpassing yours. Placing your hands on his belly, you started rubbing again, humming happily into his back as he sighed.

“I need to lose all this pudge,” he mumbled, and you nipped playfully at his back.

“Don’t you dare,” you said as you gave him a few pats, “I love the belly.”

[lovedsammy]

@transgendersam: “how did you know? 3 family members have gone through this and im anxious about it all the time since my kidney stones”

I was gonna reply in the comments, but figured others might want to know this, too. I hope that’s okay! 0:

Ughhhhh hun, I’m so sorry. I’ve had kidney stones as well (frequent UTI’s as a kid) and I’m not sure if having them makes it easier to develop apenditcitis, but I’ll try and explain as best I can.

So I honestly thought it was a stomach bug at first. My stomach was cramping just below the belly button and to the side like where you’re ovaries are as a female and what period pains feel like. For males it would probably just feel like you have A LOT of gas trapped. I had the pain first, which wasn’t too bad at about 2:45 yesterday morning and then I was throwing up. The way that happened was odd, too. It felt acidic and like it was coming from the stomach lining. And this is very gross but it was green stomach bile. And every time i got sick, the worse the pain got until I was doubled over and unable to walk to stand. It was a stabbing pain and the lower part of my stomach was tender to the touch. It was also distended and swollen. Even laying down, I couldn’t doze off or get comfortable no matter what position I was in.

You’ll know, believe me. The pain is absolutely horrendous. I wanted to cry and scream and I have a pretty high pain tolerance. Interestingly, this past December i had a similar experience that I also thought was the flu. It must’ve been a flare up even then that resolved on its own.

And whereas kidney stones mostly affect the bladder and the back where the kidneys are, I know how it can radiate to the stomach too which is just awful. With this, you’ll know because your entire abdomen will be tender to the touch, plus everyting else. My mom had her appendix removed too, so I wonder if it’s genetic somehow.

I hope that helps hun!

One other thing I wanted to add: the surgery is not scary, like I thought it’d be. I was honestly in so much pain that I was looking forward to it because I wanted the pain to stop. Right now, I’m still very, very sore and it hurts to move but I’m not in constant agony like I was. I’m so glad I went to the ER because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.

[radabadabing-bing]

Keaton’s Big Mistake

I’ll concede I’m not very creative with my titles, but I’m hoping I make up with that in content haha. Well here’s a story that you can’t find on my DeviantArt, and it involves Keaton if you didn’t guess. Just like the last two, 18+...honestly I should just put that on my blog cause in general these will be 18+. Anyways I’ve rambled again, enjoy.

Keaton could never quite get full. So he had to get in the talks  with someone who could help him. Anna was a shopowner for exotic goods. And she got him just what he needed- a "super concentrated vitamin liquid". It would make him full, but she gave very specific instructions- only small amounts mixed with water. Of course, Keaton was more excited over the juice itself, so...he kind of forgot her instructions.

Despite her making those instructions to make sure no one blew themselves up, in a metaphorical sense and literal sense.

The liquid was orange and bubbling. Keaton bought an entire  bottle of it- a large one too. The last one Anna had in stock apparently. So Anna...her instructions were to drink small amounts, right? He poured out a little bit into a glass he had laying around. He slurped it down, but...he wasn't really full.

Maybe a little more. Keaton was already unaware of the fact he forgot to mix it with water. He slurped down some more. It felt...a little better, not too much. Oh, what the heck? What terrible thing would befall him? Bad gas? A little bloating? He chugged the bottle down greedily, and much to his satisfaction found himself quite full. He looked down on himself and noticed his stomach had been distended a little. Were these the terrible side effects Anna had

warned him about? What a load of-

His belly then made the closest noise to a roar it could.

Groaning and bubbling more than a boiling cauldron.

"Oh. That's not...good...Hgggn..."

His body began trembling. His hair was standing up on their ends,

tail firmly stuck between his legs, ears pulled down. Something bad was about to happen. With a glorp, his abdomen lurched forward. The buttons of his shirt struggled to keep it together.

His butt rapidly increased in volume as well, stretching the hems of his pants. Thighs plumped dramatically, creating tears in the sides. His belts uncomfortably dug into him. His vest saw resistance as his boobs jutted out, and his cheeks even got a little chubbier. "Gah!" He had easily gained 100 pounds in the course of a few seconds. It stopped for a moment, and Keaton observed the damage done to his body. "Maybe I shouldn't have drank all of tha-" Another roar of his belly interrupted him.

Glorp, glorp, glorp, there went his buttons. Off like bolts from a crossbow. Snap, snap, snap, off went his belts, letting his blubbery legs get some breath. His titties saw the light of day as they grew out of his vest. His neck began to tingle and puff out, "Ugh..." He tried to reach and touch his new chin, but found it impossible, as his arms were growing as well. With a few pops, his sleeves started to undo themselves.

Another button popped off, this one on his trousers. His zipper followed suit, going down to make room for something else...Keaton's large bulge was getting larger by the second.

Keaton whimpered as his clothes became tighter and tighter, bloating ever larger and larger. More seams popped, the very threading of his pants undoing themselves under the immense weight of his new bulky layers. He let out more whimpers as his pants split down the middle, before completely bursting. "Ooh, that's so much bet- Eep!" Another button burst, this time off his vest. Another and another. With a final glorp his chest and belly were free.

"Guh...Guh!" His undergarments proved to be a final obstacle to his expansion, cutting into him worse. They ran up the crease of  his ass, and were giving him a pseudo wedgie. The bulging mass in his crotch area were gaining a more defined shape as his underwear

were forced tighter and tighter. Finally, with one last set of seams, the underwear were undone, and Keaton fully exposed. He waddled backwards with his overgrown legs, bumping into a wall. "Buh!" His cheeks were enlarged now as well, large masses of grease and fat. He looked in awe towards a mirror, showing his distorted body in full glory. "T-This can’t be happen…” His stomach churned again. Another surge of fat. His muscles were failing at keeping him standing, having gone far over the healthy weight they were used to. He stumbled back, bumping his massive butt into a wall. "Guh!" At this time, his underwear finally met their end, leaving him fully naked aside from his vest, tightly clinging to his body thanks to sweat. Everything had gained a layer of thick fat, right down to his tail. And it still was not stopping. At long last, Keaton stumbled back and fell on his ass, plushy lard cushioning the blow.

His bubbling stomach continued it's uncontrollable expansion. His lower half was not done either, making his legs near unmovable as they two grew. He still had his gloves, which had become tight as his entire body was becoming a blob. With more puffing, his swollen fingers burst through, followed by his palms. His room was getting full of Keaton...He felt his body overrun and bury various furniture and trinkets he had scattered about his dwelling.

And just when he thought he would burst...Keaton's fattening stopped.

He could barely see. The most movement he could muster was wiggling his fingers and toes,  which he could only feel as there- his digits were far gone, buried under the mounds of flabby flesh that were once his legs and arms. His belly was just...a sea of peach colored blubber, ending at the walls. He could barely move his mouth, so he was only making moans or the occasional burp. He closed his eyes. He was so exhausted…

He awoke some time later, in only an ill fitting vest with the sleeves ripped apart. He pulled himself up- it was quite difficult. He was still way oversized, his belly bulging out quite a bit. His butt still too large to be acceptable for a wolfskin. A pair of moobs finely formed on his chest. "Well..." Keaton lamented. "Next time I should pay attention...I do feel... pretty full though..."

[draconym]

Dig Dug and I just returned from the vet

and boy was it educational. Behind a cut, because it’s long and gross!

It’s been about a month since Dig Dug has eaten or passed any food. In winter, it’s not unheard of for snakes to slow down their feeding schedule, so for the first couple weeks I didn’t think much of his food refusal. But he hadn’t pooped in a while, which is pretty odd, since he should have pooped just a day or two after his last meal at the end of February. He also has been drinking even less than usual. And then this week I notice that he has a distended abdomen, so it’s definitely time for a vet appointment. I took him in this afternoon to the same vet that sees my birds, because (who knew?) she also specializes in snakes.

So the vet does a manual examination, and she says that he's a little dehydrated, and has he lost any weight? And I say yeah, he's usually bad at drinking and lately he has lost his double chin and some flab. But he seems active and relaxed, and not apparently in pain, so that's a good sign. She concludes it's probably not constipation, because that usually occurs a little lower in the body than what's going on here, which sends my mind racing immediately to Is It A Tumor??? And that's entirely reasonable and would explain why he hasn’t be able to pass his food.

So she does some more squishing and she notes that the mass itself is oddly mobile--she can squish it up or down the body quite a bit. Which is a little weird for a neoplasm, but not that weird. We talk options and finally decide to do some X-rays. Dig Dug's a really relaxed little guy so there's no need to anesthetize him for that, they just plop him down on the table and get a reasonably clear picture. Of this:

That looks like a goddamn egg! Which it's not, but that was my first thought. My next thought is: it's bigger than I expected! Which really explains why he's not been eating or pooping. You can see that there's even a little bit of partially digested food in front of the mass (the R stands for Rear of the Snake), which is incredibly gross, because that's been there for a month.

So that's mysterious. We laugh about how much like an egg it looks. But DD is just too small to be female, and eggs usually don’t appear singly, and it’s just so high up on his body, so Egg can safely be ruled out. It could certainly still be a tumor, but wow is it ever symmetrical. Well, the ultrasound is free, so we do that. And it turns out that this thing is actually liquid inside! So it's probably a cyst! Which fills me with optimism, because cysts can be drained. We talk options again. While it's likely that the whole thing could be removed with major surgery, anesthetizing reptiles carries so many risks. It is possible that this thing could be sucked out with a needle, and the risks for that are a lot lower. I opt for a fine needle aspiration, which won't do much good if the mass is thick and gelatinous, but is minimally invasive and will at least yield some concrete information either way about what the fuck is inside my snake.

So they take him away again and I wait. There's a lot of waiting involved in this; it's a busy afternoon at the hospital. I spend about an hour reading about barnacles, which, fittingly, are also incredibly weird.

Finally someone comes back and drops DD off. I peek in at him and he smells strongly of antiseptic but he's partially buried underneath wood chips and I'm not sure exactly how much of an ordeal he's been through so I don't bother him. He does a few slow laps around the tub while I sit down and wait for the vet to come back.

Which she does, carrying a vial of the liquid she drained out of my snake! We finally know what it is! It turns out it's not a tumor!

It's a cursed fucking jungle juice water balloon.

What you’re looking at is apparently a foul combination of water, biliverdin, and bacteria. The most likely explanation is that this is a freak reaction to a minor injury which triggered an infection. The vet was able to drain almost all of this wretched liquid out, and with luck and a lot of subcutaneous antibiotics it is possible that his body will be able to rid itself of the rest of this horrible bacteria broth.

So that’s awful!!! But there’s a good chance he’ll be fine. Keep your fingers crossed for him!

[oleander-grows]

hi i know a lot about fallout van buren (it’s entire existence is a hyperfocus and the demo is my white whale) and overall, i think the concept is well thought out!

(cw for forced pregnacy, implied sexual assault, and unethical science)

born ghouls are cool and never something i want to see handled in an official fallout title. it’s deeply fucked up.

if van buren was made, born ghouls would come from human mothers, forced to become pregnant, in terrible pain, floating in a goo filled glass tube, and die in childbirth. lemme cite from design doc 14

At the far end of the room are two big glass tubes filled with a viscous, green liquid. Inside this bubbling goo are two floating humanoid forms attached to tubes and wires. Closer examination reveals that the occupants of these tubes are human. Even closer examination will reveal that there is a large hose burrowed into the distended abdomen of each floating human, and from the wild, terrified eyes of the occupants, it becomes clear that the humans are terrified and in a great deal of pain.

yikes!

While all the sordid details of the ghoul procreation process will not be revealed, the player will get enough disturbing imagery to convince them that the process is not fun in the least – for the humans, anyway. 

double yikes!

the art requirements state:

Need two glass vats filled with green goo and each having a near naked human dangling from tubes within them. The vats need to be dynamic so the player can shoot them and watch them explode with bodies and humans pouring out onto the floor. 

i don’t trust bethesda to do this well and i don’t trust avellone to have handled it in a thoughtful way. the timeline states that the human “hosts” for born ghouls can be any gender/sex.

creating a born ghoul in van buren is a deeply evil thing, but it’s the only thing that could save ghouls from extinction. their existence is to tie into the overall themes about evil being subjective. i love looking at them from this viewpoint and overall rotating the concept in my mind.

it’s also 100% worth noting that the bios for the characters in this area treat “born ghouls” as a different species from regular ghouls!

that being said, i hate the idea that born ghouls age to adulthood in ~2 years. esp bc a male PC with a charisma of 4 or lower and a endurance of 7 or more can impregnate the only born ghoul who had the parts to get pregnant. i’ll end this post by showing off her bio.

[...][Belle] was the last ghoul to be successfully birthed, which was two years ago, game time. Since then, no other Born Ghouls have been successfully conceived and birthed. 

Belle is unusually attractive for a ghoul. In fact, if it weren’t for her lesions and symmetrically exposed bone, she would look like a pretty, though pale, human. Even her hair is fairly full and long. And thanks to the Born Ghoul’s ability to rapidly grow into adulthood within a month, she is also very curvy and fit looking.

[...] If the player is particularly homely (CHA < 4), she will aggressively flirt with the player, opening up opportunities for the player to shack up with Belle. [...] Belle will lead the player to one of the rooms on Sub-Level 1 (the occupants of the sleeping quarters freely give up their room for a Born Ghoul – it’s like a god to them). A particularly worthy performance by the PC (EN > 7) will get Belle to become completely enamored with the player [...]. See, even ugly people get laid in Fallout 3.

Major side-effect from the player’s amorous affair with Belle – Belle becomes pregnant!

how do you feel about the concept of born ghouls from van buren?

i don't have strong feelings. it's pretty spooky but so is birth.

i don't comprehensively understand this, but at saint monica's church in rivet city, father clifford explains that the church is named for a born ghoul who was sainted.

i know i've been told the story corresponds to a biblical story, or a postwar take on the real saint monica, or... something. i'm overdue to revisit christianity in fo3, there's a lot of weird shit i've barely touched on

sappho from hoi4 mod seems to be a born ghoul, having smooth green skin and a human nose. i like her a lot

[missmyloko]

What’s In a Dance? Part 8

This was a requested song and the first that features two titles.

Akebono (曙) - Dawn or Higashiyama Meisho (東山名所) - Scenic Higashiyama

Image courtesy of  Gaaplite  on Instagram.

The first question on everyone’s mind is, “Why does this song have two different titles?” While most song titles are the first few words of the song itself, this song does not follow that rule. Neither title is actually said in the song, which makes it all the more confusing! Its names are usually used in combination with each other, so when someone says “Akebono” they’ll usually say “Higashiyama Meisho” right after.

Lyrics

Mazu miwataseba Higashiyama, 先ず見渡せば東山,   Looking at Higashiyama first thing in the morning,  Saewataritaru aki no tsuki, 冴え渡りたる秋の月,   Sits a cold autumn moon, Yoi yoi yoi yoi yoi yasa. ヨイヨイヨイヨイヨイヤサ。 Yoi, yoi, yoi, yoi, yoi, yasa.   Makuzugahara ni soyo soyo to, 眞葛が原にそよそよと,   Beside Makuzugahara, Mosuso mo patto warushare na kaze mo, 裳裾もぱっと悪洒落な風も,   Suddenly my hem falls as the wind picks up, Nomichi no ku ni naranu. 野道は苦にならぬ。 The path through the field will be difficult.    Kokoro Yasui no miyazukui,   心安井の宮ずく居, My heart is pulled to Yasui Shrine, Chōzu no mizu mo kikusui no,   手水の水も菊水の, Wanting the special water to be purified,   Kakeru negai no Iwata obi.   掛ける願いの岩田帯。  As I wish to tie this Iwata obi. Yowai wo tsuguru kono kimi no,   齢を告ぐるこの君の, I will tell you my age, Tsuge wo shirasuru matsukaze mo ume mo,   告げを知らする松風も梅も, The wind in the pines and the plum blossoms will tell you too, Hisashiki haru koso medetakere,   久しき春こそ目出度けれ, Remembering the spring of long ago,  Banbanzei to zo mai osamu.   萬々歳とぞ舞納む。   The once eternal dance that was dedicated to you has ended.

The Breakdown

This is an incredibly difficult song to translate as it has a vast amount of background detail that I’m sure I missed a bunch of. The original notes from the discussion of the song and its lyrics were invaluable in trying to understand it, although I am incredibly aware that I left some of the notes out as there’s just so, so much that can be said from what isn’t directly said. This is a long song that’s comprised of four parts, but not really separated into verses like the Gion Kouta. As stated earlier, neither Akebono nor Higashiyama Meisho are ever mentioned, but rather both are implied; the first line states that the viewer is looking at Higashiyama first thing in the morning (dawn) and is describing the scenery around it (meisho). As also stated in earlier parts, Higashiyama are the mountains that line the eastern edge of Kyoto.  The first part is pretty straight forward as the viewer is telling us what they see. Good ol’ “yoi yoi yasa” appears again to set the mood. The second part cranks the background information from a 1 to an 11 almost instantly. Way back in Part 2 there was a mention of a famous potter named Kozan Makuzu, and Makuzugahara just happens to be a place in Gion where he set up his shop and founded his art studio. Thus, the author is setting the scene by telling us that they’re walking in Gion when suddenly the wind from an oncoming storm picks up the hem of her kimono. They then think about how difficult it will be to return, likely to their home, because of this development. In part three the background knowledge stays cranked and we’re told about how the author longs to go to Yasui Shrine. This shrine is known for relationships, so people often visit wanting to start a new relationship, keep a current one going, or to end a relationship without bad consequences. Not only do they want to visit the shrine, but they also want to purify some aspect of themselves. The second line was very difficult to write out as the meaning behind the words was very lengthy. The chōzo, not to be confused with the bird-like race from the Metroid series, is a tank or receptacle for water that all shrines have. The kikusui, which translates literally to “chrysanthemum water” actually means water that has been purified and is ready to be used to cleanse oneself. This is likely derived from the chrysanthemum being the symbol of the emperor, who also happens to be the head priest of Shintoism. So, if the chrysanthemum (the emperor) has blessed shrine water somewhere then all shrine water should be blessed by his energy. In the translation I shortened this to “special water” as it required a fair amount of explanation. The last line is incredibly intense as it seems so innocent, yet contains some of the most powerful imagery in the entire song. An Iwata obi, also known as a hara obi, is a special type of obi worn by pregnant women. It’s quite soft and no where near as long as a regular obi, which would be hard to tie over a distended abdomen. It’s meant to support the mother’s lower back so that she can stand up straight and to take some pressure away from the baby. Put together, this entire section tells us how the author wants to go to Yasui Shrine so that they can purify themselves in the hope that they will become pregnant in the future. Finally, we have the last verse that speaks of the author wanting to tell their lover their age. Sort of like in the West, a woman’s age isn’t openly shared unless it’s with someone that they know intimately. Another motif that we’ve also seen before, Matsukaze, comes back and is paired with plum blossoms as a show of intent. The viewer then thinks back to events that happened during the spring a long time ago, although this can also be a metaphor for the start of a relationship. In the end, the author realizes that the relationship (the dance) that she has with this person has come to an end. What’s unique is that the previous three verses only had three lines each, whereas the fourth and final contains an additional line. I’m not really sure why, but it does give the song an interesting poetic effect.

Each Kagai’s Version

Gion Kobu (祇園甲部) Version - Inoue School (井上流) One of the most unique dances in the Inoue repertoire, this dance is fast paced and uses both a mai tenugui and a mai ōgi! It’s a very flashy dance and one that is not easy to perform, let alone in pairs like this example. This version is performed by Koai (小愛) of Hiroshimaya (廣島屋) and Mamekiku (まめ菊) of Tama (多麻). Sorry fans of other kagai, but I can’t find it being performed by anyone outside of Gion Kobu. If you can find a link then please feel free to send it in ^^! __________________________________________________________________ The lyrics provided were translated by myself and gathered from multiple sources; I began with a set that a friend had listed, compared it to two other sets (this was one of them), and figured out which made the most sense when written out as some versions just wrote the hiragana versions of a few kanji and it made the meanings a bit more ambiguous to people who are not fluent in Japanese. In the original version some older forms of common kanji were used so I updated them as this may also confuse people.

[woundtwine39-blog]

Dear LADYist: AAAH I Have A Fibroid -- Wait, What Is That?

(Photo by Urban Isthmus / Flickr CC)

LADYIST IS SEX ED FOR GROWN WOMEN. OUR SEXPERTS ARE ANSWERING THE QUESTIONS THAT HEALTH CLASS NEVER FULLY EXPLAINED. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR SEXUAL OR REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH? ASK US HERE.

If you have a uterus, chances are high you could wind up with a fibroid. Or two. Or a dozen.

These tumors can be smaller than a pea or as large as a full-term pregnancy. They can cause debilitating pain, or you might feel nothing at all.

One National Institutes of Health study found that fibroids could affect up to 80 percent of some women by the age of 50, but estimates vary. Despite the staggering number of women affected, the cause of fibroids is still unknown.

This, unsurprisingly, leads to A LOT of questions — some general, some specific:

Can I get these removed? If I do, can I have a vaginal birth? Wait, can I even get pregnant!? Will a hormonal IUD make them grow? What are they even made of?

In this installment of LADYist we'll tackle some of the basics.

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION (AND SIZE)

Whether fibroids wreak havoc on your life or go wholly undetected is largely based on their size and location in your body.

The tumors — made up of fibrous tissue and muscle cells — can grow anywhere in or around the uterus, or on surrounding organs.

Some grow inside the uterine wall, some grow in the uterine lining and some hang just outside the uterus. Those on the uterine lining are often the ones to blame for excessive menstrual blood. In some cases, they can also make it hard to get pregnant and/or increase risk for miscarriage or early labor.

SYMPTOMS

They vary wildly.

Sometimes there are no symptoms.

Sometimes there is pressure or pain which can be chronic or related to your period.

They can also make sex painful.

For some women, fibroids are linked to heavy menstrual bleeding, which can be dangerous if it crosses into the territory of low iron and intense fatigue. In extreme cases, women lose enough blood to need a transfusion.

ARE SOME WOMEN MORE PRONE TO FIBROIDS?

Yes. Genetics play a role.

That might be one reason black women are more prone to getting fibroids. Women with lots of biological kids are at lower risk.

Hormonal imbalances can also play a role; too much estrogen and not enough progesterone can make fibroids grow.

Some research suggests that diet can be a factor. One study of 22,000 African American woman found those who ate a dairy product at least once a day were less likely to develop fibroids than women who consumed dairy less frequently. Another study found that compounds from green tea inhibit the growth of human fibroid cells. Other research has indicated that eating fruits and vegetables can help stave off fibroids.

Chemical exposure could also be a factor. A 10-year study of more than 23,000 African-American women found an association between an increased use of hair relaxers and an elevated risk of developing fibroids.

REMOVING FROM THE PREMISES

There are a number of ways to shrink or remove fibroids — some more invasive than others.

A surgeon could use focused sound waves to destroy the tumor or use a technique that will cut off the blood flow to the fibroid.

Another approach is a procedure that kills the lining of the uterus along with the fibroids with microwaves or a small heated balloon.

Or, your doctor may want to cut out the fibroids — the procedure is called a myomectomy. It can range from minimally invasive surgery to a major operation, depending on the fibroids' size and location. (Even after surgery, you might grow new fibroids.)

Since hormones are a factor, sometimes hormonal birth control can help. Your gynecologist will likely prescribe a method that uses progesterone, which has a good track record of slowing fibroid growth and improving menstrual symptoms.

Consider making a list of all your questions before a consult with your OB-GYN. For example: How might the treatment affect my ability to have children? If I have surgery, how long will it take to recover? How long before the fibroids could return?

If you have concerns about how your OB-GYN is handling things, don't be afraid to switch doctors, said Alyssa Quimby, Assistant Professor of Clinical Obstetrics and Gynecology at Keck School of Medicine.

"If you don't connect with that person, and you don't feel like you're able to really trust them, then go to somebody else," she said.

Quimby says be sure to let your doctor know if you start to have heavier periods or more intense menstrual pain. Your OB-GYN should periodically check whether your fibroids have grown.

"A more definitive surgical treatment would be a hysterectomy, removing the uterus altogether," said Quimby.

She acknowledges that surgery is a big deal, but she said it's the best option in severe cases.

CAN I GET PREGNANT AFTER FIBROID SURGERY?

Some women could have a hard time getting pregnant after surgery, but for other women, getting rid of fibroids might help them conceive.

The options for giving birth after a fibroid surgery also vary. For women who've had a myomectomy — which cuts into the uterus — doctors will often recommend a C-section. You may be able to deliver vaginally after a less invasive procedure.

The key takeaway here is that you must find a gynecologist you trust, and be sure to go over the specifics of your situation. The potential impact on getting pregnant and giving birth affects people in different ways. AN ALL-TOO FAMILIAR TALE

This is one woman's story: Jen, 39, a nurse from Culver City (she asked us to only use her first name, because she said she's been a target of harassment).

She suffered through awful periods for more than three years before a doctor determined that she had a fibroid. Sometimes the pain was so intense it had her doubled over, making it hard to walk and do routine activities.

For a time, she put up with it, saying that was because of her hard headedness.

"I can handle a lot of pain," she said. "I would just take some Tylenol and put on a heating pad."

Jen said a long history of contact sports and hiking helped her push through. Still, one doctor told her the pain was from not getting enough exercise. On top of the pain, there was the bleeding.

"I was going through about a pad an hour with a tampon," she said. "I was bleeding through my clothes. I had to wear dark colors," adding, "I had to set aside clothes that were just for this time of month, lots of laundry."

Jen started using a menstrual cup to measure the blood. It was 120 ml each month; about 30 is typical.

Her abdomen was distended and constantly looked bloated. Eventually, Jen couldn't take it anymore and got a second opinion from her primary care doctor. That doctor did a pelvic exam, and found a fibroid. A transvaginal ultrasound confirmed it was there.

Jen's iron was low and she had so much blood loss related to the fibroids that her doctor thought she might need a transfusion.

In Nov. 2015, Jen had a myomectomy. Hers involved an incision into her uterus. Since then she said she hasn't experienced the same type of menstrual pain or excessive bleeding, but it did leave her with nerve damage in the area.

Jen said she's frustrated that there isn't more research to help women prevent fibroids in the first place.

"We're still behind in women's medicine, and especially women's reproductive medicine," she said.

There is still a silver lining, said Jen. She feels she can draw on her experience to support friends who are dealing with fibroids.

Hey, thanks. You read the entire story. And we love you for that. Here at LAist, our goal is to cover the stories that matter to you, not advertisers. We don't have paywalls, but we do have payments (aka bills). So if you love independent, local journalism, join us. Let's make the world a better place, together. Donate now.

Source: http://www.laist.com/2018/11/05/dear_ladyist_ahhhh_i_have_a_fibroid_wait_what_is_that.php

[deathbyboredumb]

Dose of Reality (3): Dimensions, Perceptions, Psychedelic Experiences - MORPHINE SULFATE ORAL SOLUTION (60mL)

OK. So, this happened about 6 years ago when I scored 60mL of oral solution morphine sulfate. I began plugging because after doing some research I find out that it is not recommended to shoot up the oral solution I came up on and actually taking it orally just didn’t do it for me. That being said, I'm not ashamed to say I've plugged. When it comes down to social stigma / your own hang-ups vs. better bio-availability - getting more out of my drugs wins every time.

I’ve only told this story once, at a party, and I don't think anyone believed me when i told it to them but, whatever, it happened. Letting you know now, it's a little graphic. So yea... I would go about my usual plugging of oral solution morphine sulfate. I take the solution that I scored, I measure some out, mix it up real well with hot water, then I shove this ear flushing device (I lost the oral syringe it came with..) up my ass and blast a warm morphine enema into my rectum. 

Usually it works real nicely; I get a good blast, feel fucked up and like I violated myself. But lately the morphine enema's have been hurting going in because of the fissures that have formed in my rectum from chronic constipation (horrible diet and lot’s of opiates). I was on day 3 of feeling like I was getting butt fucked by a scapulae.

So, just to clarify, my ass was all kinds of fucked up and all and all I’m just not looking / feeling right. But is that going to stop me from the morphine enema?

OF COURSE NOT.

It will hurt yes, but then I’m going to have 1mL of morphine being blasted into my spongy rectum, I'll get to feel my opiate "warm blanket", and the baby inside me will stop crying. 

So I shove it up there, and I want to shove it way up there this time to ensure I get the entire dose, so I shoooove it up there, and then I squeeze real hard on the bulb part, real hard, and as usual it doesn't shoot too well. My ass has been in rough shape, it looks like shit... But then I give it a good fist squeeze after getting a hold of it real well, and POP some water shoots in and oh no.

So does the top of the ear bulb piece...  I had covered it with lotion hoping it’d help my situation, but of course this works to my disadvantage. I put too much force on the bulb resulting in the whole plastic piece coming off. I couldn't feel the piece of bulb at all, all I felt was morphine water drooling down the back side of my taint and nuts. I didn’t get the shot inside me.

A bad booty bump...

So like I would do if I missed a vein, I try again. In this case I see a good deal of water in the bulb still and look behind me for the plastic piece, because I didn't stop to think that

"hey that thing actually went up my butt".

I just didn't feel it at all, I thought it had fallen off the bulb and was sitting in my boxers. I try to hurry this up as I realize I was taking longer than usual.

I look for this plastic piece and can't find it, it's not on the floor or in my boxers like it's supposed to be (little did I know, it was en route to my colon). I’m tearing apart my entire room, getting more and more frustrated, thinking it must have flown off my boxers when I got up quick and it must have fallen under the bed, behind the dresser on top of the dresser into my shoes into the vent etc. etc. Never does the thought cross my mind that this plastic piece could be IN MY ASS. So after searching and searching I give up, I grab the bulb and SHOVE it hard up my butt past the bleeding fissure wounds and squeeze nice and hard, and the rest of the morphine shot goes into my rectum.

Ahhhhhhh, it's done.

But no the ahh doesn't last nearly as long.

I still had no idea where the fuck the plastic piece was?????

Where could it be? did my dog eat it? Did it get caught behind the pictures? (check all the pictures. one falls and front glass piece shatters, cut myself while putting it back together...errr) and then about an hour later in a blink of a thought - 

Duh it's in my ass. Yes, it's in my ass, only until I start to feel very uncomfortable down there, like a stomach ache only different, like obstruction different. Huh… no way… it couldn’t be. I don't feel that much pain, at least not enough that a plastic piece was in my rectum scraping the sides. So I do my research, learn all about how there aren't any pain receptors in your colon so you could have a knife up there and it could be slicing and dicing you up and you're not going to feel it until it cuts through your colon and blood starts seeping into your stomach and other organs. I start freaking out, I start feeling sick. I puke. I feel , real nauseous, and I start thinking about how embarrassing it would be to go to the ER, and have this bulb piece be surgically removed from my ass and how it would be easy to figure out what I was doing.. and all the trouble and all the problems… Shit. I’ve got to get this thing out of my ass now. I press around on my abdomen and I swear, there it was, I could feel it on my lower left hand side of my stomach, this solid piece that is in there that I can rub. It's about 5 inches above the top of my thigh. I wonder if this is really it, I still wonder if it was, it felt like it… but does the colon go from the back towards the front or does it just stay in the back? I'm not sure. I sit all funny trying to get the plastic piece to go down my distending colon and then my rectum where I would feel it, then I would do little baby squeezes until the little guy would come out. No problem. I think about posting on Bluelight about my ordeal for some advice, but then thought about the pages of replies;

"hey dumbfuck, we're not doctors! you could puncture your colon and internally bleed and vomit up your intestines! You're going to die dude.. GO TO THE ER NOW!!" I eat a bunch of food, I mean a bunch, and just thought fuck it i'll take my chances at having it get pushed out?.. I go to work and put up with the discomfort and come home, try to take a shit and I can't. Which isn't a big surprise i'm usually so constipated from the opiates that I shit a brick (that really does look red) about once a month and that's all. So I wait through the next day and start feeling stomach pains and am getting freaked out and wondering if I should just get to the ER. I decide to take some laxatives and finally that night got to go to the bathroom. After a long waterfall of watery shit I feel something actually solid going along for the ride and then

POP

Just like it came in it comes out, and drops into the toilet. Bliss... I thought it was a guarantee I'd get fecal obstruction, literally.

-Jesse Boredom *For the record, I DO NOT CONDONE DRUG USE. Everyone reacts differently to mind altering substances. If you have a bad feeling about what you are about to take I strongly recommend just walking away. Be safe, be aware and please take care of each other.”