#placenta form

[placentaeater999]

My friends. Put your lobe fins together for...

PlacentaEater's Autism Fish Paper

This is 8 pages of absolute glory (not written very academically, i wanted it to be a bit more accessible and better formated for a random ass social media thing) that took me about 5 hours to make. There might be some grammar or spelling or punctuation mistakes, idc, im having a fun time and that's what matters. This isn't the most serious paper ever written.

Thanks you all for your patience, I know this has been long awaited. I'm really excited to share this with you all. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. <3

NOTE: The longer parts have TL;DRs on them if u dont wanna spend a ton of time reading it ;)

[anonymous-dentist]

I’ve seen a lot of people genuinely and sincerely wondering why the Federation can’t heal Empanada back up to two lives using the Egg Hospital, and that just means that the Federation Propaganda is working.

So let me explain how the Eggs work within the lore of the QSMP:

The Eggs, in the beginning, were supposed to be a one or two week event. The parents with the happiest egg would get a prize. The parents with dead eggs would be punished.

Within Lore, these original eggs- Dapper, Leo, Chayanne, Ramon, Tilin, Flippa, Bobby, and Trump(et)- were the children of a “dragon mother” who had flown away from the island after the islanders blew up the wall. Tallulah was a later addition, but she is “biologically” (we’ll come back to the quotation marks in a second) related to the og eggs. So is Pomme, who had been stuck under the adoption center for over a month waiting to be adopted. Our outliers are Richarlyson- who wasn’t even supposed to exist yet, Sunny, Empanada, and Pepito.

And then there are the other Eggs. The dead ones. Like “Hope”, the egg the Federation left to die in the middle of nowhere waiting to be adopted. Or Egg A1, the egg ElQuackity was experimenting on that burned to death. Or the several dead eggs mentioned in the Maze Book, the ones who would be Sunny and Empanada and Pepito’s siblings if those three really are the three surviving eggs from the Maze Book.

You see, the Eggs aren’t real. They’re artificial. We’ve known this since May/June when SOFIA analyzed “Richarlyson’s placenta” (don’t ask) and found, wow! The Eggs are essentially artificial, inorganic lifeforms. And then we see ElQ experimenting on A1, and then we hear about the Maze Experiment, and then we find out about Egg Island and how the Federation technically owns it, and we realize, oh. Huh.

The Eggs have never met their supposed dragon mother. That’s because she doesn’t exist. The Eggs were created solely for the purpose of the experiment the islanders are unwillingly part of. They’re tools, and the Federation doesn’t care about them.

The Eggs, to the Federation, are more or less expendable. The Feds’ primary focus is the islanders and keeping them under control. The Eggs still being alive now is only because the Feds quickly realized that their test subjects would fucking lose it if the Eggs were taken away like they were supposed to have been.

But if the Eggs happen to die on their own, so be it. That’s fine. They’re kids, they’re fragile.

Tilin and Flippa and Trump and Bobby are all dead, and it’s been shown that the Feds could have brought them back permanently by putting them in the hospital they canonically have, or by bringing them back “by magic” like how Sapo Peta revived Flippa after the trial. This is why Cellbit infiltrated the Feds in the first place and it’s a HUGE part of why he hates them now! He knows that they could keep every egg safe and alive, but they choose not to because, again, the eggs are expendable!

If the Federation had their way, the Eggs wouldn’t have been retrieved at all when they disappeared. But the islanders started going berserk and rebelling and the Feds went “Oh, shit”, and thus the Eggs’ return was made a priority.

The Eggs are a form of control, and everybody even remotely questioning the Federation knows it. Keeping the Eggs around and alive serves to keep the islanders in line. If they rebel, the Eggs could die. This is why the Eggs were brought back in the first place, and it’s why the parents of dead eggs and those without eggs in the first place were the ones assigned to Sunny, Empanada, and Pepito. Those people couldn’t be controlled, but now they can be. People like Tubbo won’t mess with Cucurucho anymore because they don’t want their kids dead; it’s why Cellbit only started lashing out after Richarlyson had been gone for almost two months.

So… why don’t they just keep the Eggs alive?

Easy. Because the Eggs are expendable. Them living is the easiest option, but them dying isn’t really a huge issue. People like Jaiden have been easy enough to manipulate after losing their egg. Grieving parents so far haven’t had huge explosive reactions (except for Maxo, who very notably did have a huge explosive reaction.) Slime and Mariana fell into depressive states, Jaiden became easier to manipulate, Quackity was able to be kidnapped and brainwashed. Roier and Maxo kept their illegal rebellious activities under wraps, and neither really made any big huge moves against the Feds (again, outside of the nuke.)

If the Eggs die naturally, it’s fine. It’s the parents’ faults for letting their child die- just look at how nobody blamed the Federation for permanently taking Bobby away, but people both on the server and off blamed Roier for “getting him killed”, or how Mariana is the scapegoat for the Federation not bringing Flippa back to life when they easily could’ve done so.

Eggs dying naturally turns islander aggression inwards… with the exceptions of Cellbit, Roier, and Maxo, and now Bagi and Mousey. The Feds don’t want anyone getting angry at them, they want the islanders to get angry at themselves. That way, nobody can organize against them.

So the Feds won’t reverse a life lost. They won’t revive a dead egg. They don’t need to. The Eggs aren’t the experiment here. They aren’t important.

[breedingprincessjackie]

Wrote a story for imagineyourpregnant but also wanted to put it here 💋

Imagine your son never stops growing inside you.

Getting pregnant while already pregnant is unusual. The problem is you’ve been carrying for twenty years now and your unborn son is the father of the new fetus growing inside. 

Before all this craziness, you had eagerly anticipated giving birth. You wanted to feel you're pussy stretching open. You wanted to give life and feel heavy and full with a man's seed. Man after man filled you with cum, and you loved it. You couldn't get enough. It was only a matter of time before you were knocked up. 

You adored growing huge and heavy with child. You loved it so much. Still, it never ended. Your waters never broke no matter how many men frantically fucked you, wailing for mercy as your enormous pregnant belly shook with each thrust. Your legs couldn't be closed anyhow with your womb expanding up and out; might as well use it. 

Your baby stayed safe and warm within your womb. Growing and growing as children tend to do, your skin somehow managed to stretch with it. 

You are pregnant, and it doesn't end. It hasn't ended.  It shouldn't be possible. 

You didn't think it could happen, not now, not to you. 

You can't get any more pregnant. You're skin is stretched thin. You can't see over the massive orb of flesh, that had been you're stomach, anymore. You haven't been able to see your feet for a long while. Touching your clit yourself is out of the question although you want it more than anything. 

Your son simply continued growing in your womb.

Nothing would ignite your labor and you refused a cesarean. There was no need. Nothing was technically wrong aside from the obvious. He remained and grew with the same vigor as your tits, engorged with milk. They sat heavy on top of your belly and bounced with every strong movement from within your womb. 

Your body grew sensitive with pregnancy, and that didn't stop either. 

You are mostly womb at this point. It hangs so heavy on your hips you can't walk for long periods. Medically, you shouldn't be able to walk at all. But you do, and you like standing near your apartment window, gigantic belly pressing against the glass, as men who try to break your water pound into your fat pussy. 

You like the position and feeling their balls slap the underside of your belly. You love feeling their cum drip out of you.

They all try hard. You love their creampies and hands on your belly as they devour your soaked pussy. Still, after a while the parade of men grows tiring. Not one had come close to sending you into labor. 

You have come to enjoy when it was just you and your baby. 

You two are alone often, with your current state, and yet it's probably better that way. 

Lying on your bed, you grip your belly and frantically rub at any skin you can reach. The mountain of flesh ripples and shakes. A rhythm eventually takes to the harsh movements sending ripples across your skin. You're practically moved along with your belly, it's not helped by the unconscious thrusting of your own hips. 

You can't stop, and won't be anytime soon. 

You can't help yourself anymore. 

You moan, "Oooohhhhh Oooooo OH GOD! He's Cumming. I feel ittttt. Oh God, he's cumming inside meeeee!" 

You're relationship with your son was different because of your strange pregnancy.

He grew like any other man and all the hormones that come with it. For 18 years, your baby grew and left your womb an unrecognizeable fertile dome. 

Now, he rubs his erect cock against the walls of his mother' womb, seeking pleasure from the friction. It was, after all, the only home he had ever known. It drives you wild. You feel every thrust. You cum drooling with every pulsing spurt of his cock. 

It takes a few months before you notice. With age, your baby's growth slowed, but it starts up again. Angry veins make maps across your skin.  

You feel more, smaller kicks, against your belly. A Second placenta formed. Your sons seed with nowhere else to go implanted in your already packed womb. There was more than one. 

You never expected to like it as much as you did, but ever since you learned you were even more pregnant your pussy was never empty. You drowned yourself in the pleasure of having any man willing to rub his cock against your belly. They fucked you hard and fast on all fours with your legs lifting off the ground. Huge and immobilized all you can do is scream in frenzied pleasure. 

"I'm gonna pop! I'm so bigggggg! I'm gonna explode! It's so much. It's too much! It's so tight! I'm so FULLLL". FUCK ME HARDER! FILL ME!" 

You feel an erect cock against your navel, from the inside, not out. It sends you into a frenzy of wailing as another man's thick cock pounding in and out sends gushes of your arousal across your thighs. 

You're stomach tightens and rumbles. The mountain of a womb contracts brutally. You ignored it for a while. Your need for your pussy to be filled outweighed logic. You are a balloon about to pop and you don't care. 

"I'M GONNA BURST! MY BELLYS TOO BIG! IM GONNA CUM IM CUMMING! PLEASE, GIVE ME MORE! MOREEEE!"  

One man humps your ass as fast as his hips can thrust. He buries his thick cock deep in your burning hot pussy. Only when his cum spurts out onto your gigantic belly do the men lift your legs open and investigate the tight drum heaving in front of them. 

"Uh…uh ah ah Ahhh AHHHHH GOD ITS HAPPENING! I'M GIVING BIRTH, FINALLY, MY BABY IS COMING OUT!" 

More men cum and one wiped the seed like lotion onto your womb and takes your long swollen navel between his teeth. He sucks, and you whine for more. 

You stretch impossibly wide, but still you drool and moan in ecstacy. You lie in a puddle of you're own fluids, birthing and otherwise, that continues to squirt from you vigorously. Your heavy heaving tits drip milk down your belly in a steady stream. Your child's head shouldn't be able to fit but your skin still stretches until you feel a wet head brushing against the bottom of your ass. It shouldn't be possible to be stretched so wide, and your eyes roll back. 

"MY PUSSY IS SO FULL. I'M CUMMING! MY SON IS COMING OUT! I CANT STOP CUMMING! HE'S SO BIG! AH, AH, AH I'M PUSHING! I'M CUMMING!!!"

When be comes out of you, followed by cum dripping out of your gaping wide pussy, you know you'll be even bigger, much less empty, soon enough.  

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom!

It’s me again! 

So, we all know Rooster had his little meltdown and said his whole schtick: “No wife. No kids. No one to mourn you when you burn in.” to Maverick like a spoiled little brat while having none of those things. And okay, he was mad, sure, but he hit below the belt — anyway, hang on…

Imagine this instead:

A nineteen-year-old Rooster going to college classes at a university that isn't the Academy (after blowing up at the only family he has left), who falls for a Bio Major that offered him a free bulb when his tail-light blinker went out. 

I need you to imagine that he really loves this girl — the full Carl and Ellie from Up — he loves her more than anything. Of course, they have no money and they live off ramen noodles in a shitty studio apartment. But he starts a life with this girl, proposes to her with his Mom’s ring, and all he wants to do is call Mav and Ice, to call the Flyboys, to say look at her, isn't she perfect?

He starts to lose that anger, it flows out of him with every hungry night that he gives up his dinner so she can have more, with every paycheck-to-paycheck month and when they both pull all-nighters to make it through.

He slowly realizes how much Mav must have sacrificed when he was small and suddenly, he feels wrong inside. 

He wants to apologize, to go home. 

But he's still young and bitter and he doesn't want them to be right. He doesn't want not-going-to-the-Academy to be a good thing. He wants to be right. 

So he chickens out of it every time he goes for the phone, finding yet another reason to push it off. 

Until there are three positive pregnancy tests on the bathroom sink and he's barely twenty and they get married at the courthouse because they're desperate. 

They graduate at the same time and she's pregnant with triplets. 

He’s floored, because triplets? 

They have nothing, but it’s a beautiful life nevertheless.

They move to Cali and live in his parents’ old house. Bradley joins the Navy and she decides to start teaching. He refuses to ask for help, even when they struggle, even when he knows his family is less than an hour away. He also feels so guilty, because now there are going to be babies and he has a wife and it all seems so small in comparison. He doesn't care about the Academy anymore. All he cares about is her and the babies.

He doesn't know how to do this, how to be a father without the men who showed him what it is to be one.

And he's going to call, he swears he is…

Then his wife starts complaining about a headache that doesn't go away and her ankles are so swollen. 

He rushes her to the ER as fast as he can, but she has a seizure in the car that goes on for forever. She has eclampsia. She won't stop seizing. They have to do an emergency C-section. She's only twenty-three weeks. 

They lose her on the table, Baby A never makes it to the NICU, Baby C is born sleeping — there was something wrong with the placenta — and they ask him if he wants to try and save Baby B. 

Baby B, the smallest of the bunch, who has a severe form of spina bifida, a cleft lip and is barely a pound. 

Bradley says yes and plans for four funerals at the age of twenty-one. 

But Baby B doesn't die, he gets just about every dangerous complication for a twenty-three-weeker in the NICU, but he doesn't die. 

Mitchell Thomas Bradshaw — Mickey — named after the two strongest men that Bradley knows — comes home with him after seven months in the NICU. 

I need a Bradley who intimately understands what he's saying to Maverick, I need a Bradley who has had both of those things — a wife, kids — and lost them too. 

I need a Bradley who has lived a life in the interim and has grown up despite every challenge he faced, whose anger isn't really anger anymore. 

I need a Bradley who tried to call home once, only once, while his baby was dying in the NICU, and was told to stop calling after what he did by one of the Flyboys (probably while Ice was sick). 

I need a Bradley who has a deeper reason to be upset, who is angry at himself as much as he is at Maverick. 

I need a Bradley who has been raising a child for fifteen years on his own — one who gives him just as much back-talk and sass as he once gave Mav — who lost the person he loved most in the world and his children and somehow had to keep going. 

I need a Bradley who has become Maverick. 

That’s how that line makes sense anyway 🤣

[mitsuyeaah]

study session.

— sanzu haruchiyo x f! reader

cw: nsfw (mdni), smut, fingering, sex toy (vibrator), swearing, pet names (darling, baby), sanzu being a lil’ shit

a/n: lovely nonnie has inspired me to write a lil drabble with sanzu since i am studying for my finals as well. thank u for this idea hehe <3 sorry in advance for any typos, i wrote this with tears in my eyes.

it was a rough night to say the least, you didn’t even notice the sun beginning to set under the horizon since your eyes were too focused on your notes before you. it was only then you realised how much time you’ve spent studying when your boyfriend made his presence known by kissing the crown of your head.

it all started innocently, really. a gentle exchange between the two of you—telling him how you’ve been very stressed and worried for your upcoming finals. of course, being the good boyfriend he was, he offered to take your mind off your worries for a bit.

now, as innocent as the offer was, your boyfriend’s fingers deep inside your wet cunt as he stood behind you was not what you initially had in mind. one knee was propped on the desk, resting above your notes as your hips pressed against the edge of your desk. the chair that you previously sat on was whisked away, somewhere in the room.

“ah, fuck! sanzu—ngh!” you breathlessly moaned as he added a third slender digit inside, your hands turning into fists against your immunology notes, causing the paper to crumple under your touch. sanzu peppered your nape with open-mouthed kisses, goosebumps forming at your skin.

“mmm, my darling has been diligently studying that i just had to treat her..” he sent vibrations down your spine as he spoke against your skin.

at this point, your study notes were long forgotten. the constant worry that plagued your mind of failing your finals disappeared, and the only thing in your pretty little head was how much pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. how delicious his fingers felt inside you. how the deep pit in your stomach bubbled at the sensation.

the next thing you knew, your cheek was pressed against your notes, and the crown of your head making contact with the edge of your laptop. both your wrists were pinned against your lower back by one of sanzu’s hand, while the other held your favourite vibrator against your puffy clit.

it was turned to the highest setting. little shit.

you didn’t even know your ears were ringing until it finally subsided and you could hear sanzu’s sly voice cutting through, “c’mon, baby, answer the question. how’re you going to prepare for your exam, hm?” you couldn’t see him but you knew he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his pretty face. as always.

you didn’t even hear his question because of the loud ringing in your ears. “aah! w-what..?” your voice came our quieter than you intended but it was loud enough for sanzu to hear above the buzzing of the sex toy.

“i said, describe antibody, IgM.” his cerulean eyes quickly scanned over the notes on your laptop screen before returning them to you. he tilted his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

opening your mouth to answer, a loud whine escaped your lips as sanzu pushed the vibrator past your wet folds. you closed your eyes shut, face contorting with pleasure as he started thrusting the device in and out. “haah! fuck! I-IgM antibody is the largest antibody molecule—ngh!”

sanzu absentmindedly leaned down to connect his clothed chest with your back to suck on your nape, waiting for you to continue. the mixed sensation of the vibrator inside you and sanzu sucking on your skin absolutely drove you crazy. the answer inside your head suddenly dissipated into thin air like smoke.

“shit.. this antibody is mostly confined to the—ah! to the.. to the blood and lymphatics since it cannot be transported across—hmph sanzu! it can’t be transported across the fucking placenta.” it took all your willpower to get all those words out, it didn’t help how your boyfriend picked up the pace of the vibrator.

tears rolled down to your notes as he brought the vibrator back to your clit, earning a loud shameless moan from you. you didn’t even care if the ink was going to be smudged from your tears, all you wanted was to reach your orgasm.

“good girl.” sanzu breathlessly chuckled against your skin, his free hand travelling down to your chest to squeeze and grope at your breast over the fabric of your shirt.

“what are the two major sites for establishment of immunological tolerance? tell me, baby or you won’t get to cum.. need to get you prepped for your exam.” your heart sank to your stomach at the mention of your orgasm denial. despite your lust-fogged brain, you tried to wrack your mind for a coherent answer but the only thing that came out your mouth were moans and incoherent sentences.

“aah! shit shit! i don’t fucking know! please, just let me cum, sanzuuu..” you opened your eyes, vision obstructed by tears as you craned your neck to try and meet his gaze. “oh? are you telling me you spent hours studying just for you to not answer the question? a pity.. looks like no orgasm for you then..”

you hastily shook your head against your desk, your notes rustling beneath every movement of your head. “no, no, no! please—ah! just let me.. let me think!” you shut your eyes, brows furrowing as you tried to concentrate on the answer, ignoring the familiar sensation that was making itself known.

you panted against your notes, mouth parted, “fuck! i’m so near” you didn’t mean for that to come out but it just did, and you never regretted anything as fast. “the answer, baby. or you’re not cumming.” sanzu clicked his tongue and pressed the vibrator harder onto your clit, earning another loud whine from you.

“c-central tolerance at the—ngh! the primary lymphoid organs! a-and—haah! peripheral tolerance at the secondary lymphoid organs. fuck!” your nails dug into your palms as you answered his question, trying your best not to cum right then and there.

sanzu grinned at your answer, “that’s right. m’baby is so smart, huh? now, why don’t you cum for me?” he didn’t have to tell you twice, you came before he even finished his sentence. a chain of profanities leaving your lips as your vision blurred, and ears ringing once again.

your legs shook from the intense pleasure, a fresh set of hot tears rolling down to pool at your notes. sanzu rode out your orgasm by pressing the vibrator even further onto your clit and whispering sweet praises against your ear, earning small whines from you as you cried out his name like a prayer.

you didn’t expect sanzu to take your worries away by giving you a mind blowing orgasm but you weren’t complaining. if anything, you’d definitely encourage him to accompany you whenever you studied because,

to say the least, study sessions with sanzu were much more interesting and fun.

© mitsuyeaah

[facts-i-just-made-up]

How does one go about petting a cat?

This is a common question as unlike most domesticated animals, cats do not come with manuals. Most dogs and livestock are born with manuals around the placenta, but cats are not. The strange thing is that cats can read skway ki line, and human placentas have vessels resembling an ancient form of it, suggesting they are not meant to be our pets, but vice versa.

[valtsv]

Ooo, it sounds very interesting! Can you tell me some fun facts about canninalism! Maybe more historical facts about cannibalism? (Different anon)

hmmm okay what about autocannibalism? which is the act of consuming oneself. technically everyone does it as a result of consuming dead cells from your tongue and cheeks, but fingernail biting is also actually classed as a form of autocannibalism! there are also rarer cases of people choosing to consume their own flesh and blood by choice (the most common being choosing to eat the placenta after pregnancy, which some 'alternative health' influencer types encourage but appears to have no particular health benefits) and historical accounts of forced autocannibalism as a form of torture.

fun fact: the ouroboros is a symbolic example of autocannibalism!

[starryoak]

Basic Pokémon Worldbuilding Headcanons

Decided to write down my base worldbuilding assumptions about the Pokémon World, in case anyone else would like to share them;

Pokemon types are not fully a human-made classification system, but rather a metaphysical property of a Pokémon’s aura, the same aura that Lucario and many other Pokémon manipulate; the ‘frequency’ of their type is unique to them, and the combination of types makes its own unique ‘frequency’, much like coordinates on a chart with 18 different axiis on both sides.  This means that classification was first made and named by psychic humans who could sense them, until humans developed machinery for proper classification. The formal classification of a type is conditional on being detectable by modern technology, which is why the Fairy type remained unclassified for years, as it was very similar to Normal type in makeup.

This energy is also how Pokémon can be contained in Pokeballs and transferred electronically; Pokemon are naturally capable of converting from energy to mass and back again, though the exact mechanics of this transformation only became known in the 90’s as advances in science allowed the Pokémon Storage System to come into existence.

Psychic humans, of course, as we know, exist. Up to 5-10% of the population is some form of psychic, the extra 5% having psychic potential of some manner that, while not offering powers of any kind, makes them extra vulnerable to psychic effects or attacks.

This fact mixes explicit canon with my own headcanons; evolution for Pokémon is a process entirely separate to aging or the biological meaning of evolution in our world. Pokémon evolve for a variety of factors that are often connected but not always related to aging; if their territory is suited for them and would not support their larger evolution, many Pokémon simply choose not to evolve, leading to strange (for humans) sights like encountering elderly Treecko. As Grovyle are significantly larger than their prevolution, the Treecko would have had to leave his family behind to seek new territory, so it simply never did. Evolution is not the process of aging for Pokémon, though it’s often intimately connected with it, most Pokémon are fully capable of reaching maturity and breeding prior to their final evolution, so many simply choose not to do so for their own reasons. 

The act of evolution consumes a large amount of energy in a short period of time; this is the cause of the glowing light seen in the anime and some games, while others feature large bursts of swirling wind, the method of energy dispersal can vary, but all evolution causes some form of sudden energy discharge.

The process that is described in our world as natural evolution, and this is explicitly canon, does occur to Pokémon, though often it can be much more rapid than in our world. For example, and this is implicitly (though not explicitly) canon, Electrode and Voltorb’s species was originally a species of Apricorn mimics; this is implied by the Temple of Sinnoh’s statue of the original Lord Electrode, which has no dividing line between the upper and lower halves. As Pokeballs came into existence, they pivoted to mimicking them instead.

Pokémon breeding is more complicated than canon presents, obviously, but the base premises the game uses, of “Egg Groups”, is fundamentally still correct. Pokémon reproduce in different ways based on their species, but all Pokémon capable of breeding are in some form capable of laying eggs, often with the more mammalian Pokémon simply being ovovivaparous, giving live birth to their young, but still having eggs inside their bodies rather than placentas.  Under stress or other conditions that make it more favorable, often these Pokémon can choose to lay their eggs rather than develop them internally. Despite most technically being capable of doing so, most Pokémon simply do not choose to breed outside their species, and in fact, interbreeding between species in the wild is a likely sign of a disturbed ecosystem.  Obvious incompatibilities due to size can be overcome through artificial insemination, and Pokémon breeders often use these technologies to help create more effective battlers. As in canon, male Pokémon pass on very little to their offspring. To elaborate on that fact, male Pokémon pass on their aura to their child more than genes, and this leads to the influence of the father on a Pokémon expressing themselves subtly, often offering the capabilities to learn moves that may not be natural to their offspring. Very occasionally the father’s genes will express themselves in minor physical differences to an average member of the species, but this is very rare and usually very subtle.

Pokémon that are not biological in nature and/or in the No Eggs Discovered egg group tend to reproduce in their own unique ways, but due to unknown reasons, speculated upon wildly by scientists, usually still produce some form of egg in the process of reproduction.  For example; Magnemite and its family reproduce by two or more Magnemite collecting magnetic minerals together into a roughly egg-shaped ball, which eventually solidifies into a Magnemite egg. This type of reproduction is common to most Pokémon in the Mineral egg group. Most Ghost types are capable of natural reproduction, despite their appearances, and simply collect energy together during reproduction that coalesces into an egg once a male Pokémon has provided their aura.

[genshin-hsr-rambles]

how does the halovian halo work in terms of birth? like are they born with it and their poor mom has to pop it out? or is it like the placenta where it comes out after the birth and then you have to push out a FUCKING HALO, sometimes with SPIKES? or do they form them later in life? are they even part of their body or is it actually just an accessory?

Canonically speaking, no one knows. Fandom depictions of baby Sunday (yes, we’ve all seen them) don’t often include the halo.

Though uncertain on the logistics, I would say it’s very unlikely a Halovian is born with their halo. Since males seem to possess larger/sharper halos, the mother would sustain deep injuries during birth or potentially even before birth, the maternal mortality rate skyrocketing and perhaps making male Halovians rarer. I do not believe a highly evolved race like the Halovians would experience this issue (though it would be a unique take for Halovians to live in dread of having a son for this reason), and Sunday’s mother surviving past his birth and going on to have Robin later supports this. It would be more likely for the halos to gain their defined shapes later on in life, simply coming out like a disk, or to not exist at all yet.

I can answer the last question with certainty. The answer being yes, the halo is part of a Halovian’s body. I can see how you might think it’s more of an accessory, as they seem to be capable of moving it as they wish and outright removing it. However the Halovians are all defined by their halos, not a single Halovian lacks one. It’s a trait of their race much like the feathered wings most of them possess. The Halovians are capable of telepathic communication through their halos, which means the halo must be linked to their minds to some degree.

I hope this helps, and may you find answers for your first few questions lol.

Edit: In light of the recent HSR patches, I have discovered the Halovian halo is actually a projection. Do with this what you will 🤷

[hadesoftheladies]

"you are killing a baby"

i am killing a fetus, not an infant. an egg is not a chicken. potential is not actuality.

"you are murdering an innocent."

it doesn't matter who is innocent. a hungry lion may be innocent in wanting to eat me only because it is hungry and may not have the cognitive capacities to exercise something like restraint or conscience. that does not mean i should not defend myself from harm. it is still self-defense. all animals are expected to protect themselves first and foremost. you are just so used to the idea that women (especially mothers) are supposed to sacrifice their lives for their children in order to be good people--like they aren't human beings with self-preservation instincts.

harm equals anything that threatens the life or health of a person and pregnancy does both.

"your body was meant/designed to do this"

miscarriages are as natural as pregnancies. why do you think the placenta exists? pregnancy sickness? the female body can grow a person, yet also has resistance mechanisms for a pregnancy.

also, just because i have genes that make me a good runner doesn't mean i have to become a marathoner. like think for a second.

"what will the father think?"

women don't owe men or society themselves. i know that's very hard for you to grasp but there's no time like the present to start. there is no ethical way to make a woman a commodity or government assigned asset for reproduction or sex.

"the baby is conscious"

so is the lion in the hypothetical. also, that's debatable. also, what are your thoughts on veganism? since you care so much about the suffering of conscious beings (that is beings with selves)

"but animals aren't humans. they don't deserve the same rights as humans because of their lower cognitive capacities"

great. now apply this ethic to babies and mentally disabled people and then try to explain to me why that has to be different without mentioning how you feel or your religion. :)

"a baby has more potential than an animal."

okay, and why does that potential automatically mean better or more valuable? higher cognitive capacities haven't stopped wars and mass murders have they? (and i would argue that bringing a child into a violent world increases their chance of becoming unhealthy or complicit persons, so you can almost know what the character of your child will be like for certain based on where you're raising them).

"a baby has a soul"

there are two kinds of dualisms within christianity: thomistic and cartesian. cartesian dualism has gone out of fashion even amongst christian theologians and philosophers.

Substance dualism, or Cartesian dualism, most famously defended by René Descartes, argues that there are two kinds of foundation: mental and physical. Descartes states that the mental can exist outside of the body, and the body cannot think.

'Thomistic substance dualism' (TSD) centers around two beliefs: 1) the rational soul is an immaterial substance, and 2) this immaterial substance is the human person.

aside from the fact that both of these philosophies are rife with problems, I think thomistic dualism is the stronger of the two. the rational soul is, in a way, a word for the self.

regardless, both of these describe a self as a soul. so i'm just going to define a self.

The psychology of self is the study of either the cognitive and affective representation of one's identity or the subject of experience. The earliest formulation of the self in modern psychology forms the distinction between two elements I and me. The self as I, is the subjective knower. While, the self as Me, is the subject that is known.

a self is a centralized consciousness with their own memories, introspection and reflections. we know through neuroscience, psychology, behavioural science and sociology that a person or self is formed via experiences (where memories and impressions are gathered, how people learn), language and socialization (economy, history, family, culture) and possibly some genetic expressions (although i think this is more about capacity than actualization).

this is why things like dementia or alzheimer's are so scary and difficult. when a person loses memories, they lose aspects of themselves. when a person changes their environment, they also become different people (even while maintaining some similarities with their past selves).

this is mirrored in popular media, characters that lose their memories lose versions of themselves. this is also why, when you look at stories that feature a multiverse, the same character becomes a different person in different lives. in short, you are not born a person. you become one, and although your self remains singular and centralized (even with age), that self still changes. both the self and the people around the self create the self.

this is also why socially isolated individuals devolve and become mindless or sick (and even have reduced lifespan). certain higher human capacities like "conscience" or "empathy" can be socialized out of a human being, as well. i'd even go so far as to say that children begin conceptualizing themselves as individuals only when they begin to sense the presence of other human beings. they cannot conceptualize their own identity without the presence of other people. they probably don't know they are a self until they recognize other people and then realize they themselves are also people, and people are individuals.

legally a person is:

. . . an entity that the law recognises as having its own distinct personality. This usually means one that is able to act in its own right, and capable of possessing legal rights and liabilities, including individuals (or "natural persons") and corporate organisations.

my point is, how can a fetus with virtually no experiences (which born animals have), no language or skill (learned) to introspect or reflect (or abstract), possibly have a self? when they are not exposed to the outside world? certainly they have the capacity to develop a self, but as established earlier on, potential is not actuality. so legally and psychologically, a fetus is very likely not a person.

but we do not need this to be true to justify abortion regardless, because an innocent person is still causing harm, whether directly or indirectly. so the woman/girl has every right to resist.

[placentaeater999]

It's disability pride month and shark month

So you know what that means my fetuses,,,,,,

Prepare,,, 🦈

Love,

Mr. Eater~

[harvardfineartslib]

"I went back to my favorite shape of thread structure radiating from the middle. The energy, or emotion gets concentrated into the middle forming a stream of red thread. To me, it is a shape of maternal love, or representation of life in nature. If you see a tree from top, this is how the branches look like. If we could see a tree root from the very bottom, it is the same. So as a structure of a female organs such as breasts and placenta." -- Rima Day on Scriptum XXII

Rima Day uses thread, fabric, and paper to create artwork that is inspired by nature and the human body. Day studied fashion design both in her native city of Tokyo, Japan and later in New York City and worked as a freelance custom ballet costumer in New York City and Connecticut. Her skills as a fashion designer are evident in her beautifully hand-stitched artist’s book. This is our third post in honor of National Embroidery Month!

Scriptum XXII Day, Rima [book artist] Scriptum 22 [Thompson's Station, TN ] : [Rima Day], August 2021. HOLLIS number: 99156839180203941

[theiasthesis]

CLEAR SKIN RESULTS FROM MY SUBLIMINAL

Thank you to my tester for helping me out! Since nobody else wanted go help me out, I tested it on myself as well (second results)

I created a series called the "Placenta" series, its designed to put you back to your form at birth, giving you that placenta effect. Here are the results <3It took me 2 days to recieve the results, I had heavy hyper pigmentation which I've had for 3 years now, I didn't use any skincare products.

The tester had horrible eczema, their flare ups have reduced a lot, their family members also noticed how much it has reduced. It took them 3 days to get their results, they inconsistent with skincare products and medication.Here's the link to the subliminal!! If anyone gets results, dm me on Instagram @theiasthesis

SKIN LIKE A BABY'S

✩

[gor3sigil]

Acne. Acne on my shoulders, on my chest, on my back, on my face. Acne everywhere. Yesterday’s injection left my leg’s muscle sore. My recent scars are red and swollen and itchy. My skin is greasy an hour only after taking a shower. But I’m alive. Even if just out of spite, even in the current political climate, even when I feel like a lot of people would love to see me dead. I don’t need to be beautiful. At this state, in this world, in this current time, I’m not doing any efforts anymore to prove that I deserve to be alive. I’m not thin, I’m not conventionally attractive. I’m disabled, I limp, I wear glasses. I have scars on my wrists, on my legs, I’m slightly fat. HRT didn’t make me prettier, I didn’t get any nipples grafts, I look like a freak. And yet, I’m alive.

10 years ago I thought I’d be dead before my twenties, or that I was doomed to live the life of an heterosexual woman (that I was not), get married, have kids, be miserable. I pictured my life like my mother’s, like so many women I knew then who seemed like they regretted giving birth, being birthed, with bags under their eyes, breathing like the air around them weighted a ton. I had all the sympathy in the world for them, but when I looked at them I was scared of them looking back, like a projection of my future trying to get me.

So I fled and left everything behind. More than a family, more than a factitious home, more than traumas, I fled expectations, I fled upbringings, I fled the disappointment I was to embrace the disappointment I wanted to become.

Moving places, changing numbers, changing names, altering my very being with chemicals.

I didn’t grow a backbone to stand up against whose who gave birth to me, but I grew a whole new self, I shed, I hatched, I bloomed. Not in a beautiful kind of way, petals slowly expanding and letting out the smell of fresh morning dew with a hint of vanilla, but in a gruesome way. Bones breaking against the sheer will I had to mutate, skin breaking and torn apart with claws, blood splashing all over the corpse of what I had been forced to grow into, to form a whole new gore of a silhouette I made with the remains of broken parts of me. Everything I had threwn away I ended up throwing up, for a while I had a thousand faces, a thousand voices, a billion eyes.

I ate the placenta raw, drank its juices, bathed in the horrible stench of a self inflicted rebirthing. I almost choked on my own brittled bones. What an experience it is, to make new with nothing but ashes, to blow in a dead heart like in glass to make it live and beat.

But enough with the lyricism.

So, ugly I am. Not even formed, still transitionning, I look like I’m 16 at 26 years old. My butchered torso is leaking pus and it takes everything in me to not pick at my scars.

I have pimples on old self harm scars all over my arms and chest. My hair is growing out and looks like nothing. I still wear chipped nail polish I’m too lazy to remove.

Yet, here I stand. Alive. Despite it all. And that in itself is a miracle.

[fluffer5]

Humans are mini-universal beings

I think this is my 4th entry to Humans Are Space Orcs. And gets sorta terrifying with this recent realization plus the small clip I saw on TikTok.

I've previously stated that writers are creators of worlds, right? Meanwhile, visual artists take de-structured ideas from the writers to create drawings, buildings, sceneries, or moments to give us an image of the world that the writers are giving life.

Now, color me surprise when I got to see this random video on TikTok which depicted how we ourselves are small walking universe. Check the following pictures and compare them, yes?

Placenta after birth = the tree of life depicted in mythology (and seeing as giving birth literally means growing a fetus (later on into an infant) inside of you, it doesn't seem so far off now. Turn that placenta around and you're faced with the cotyledons. These things look like bunched up leaves on top of trees.

Human lungs and alveoli = if you skip the gory look of the actual organ and just see it in a picture, you'd find that it seems like bunched up flower buds.

Human arteries, veins, and capillaries = now, Earth has its river network and streams, yes? Places with high salt content and none at all? That's the same way with our arteries if you replace the salt analogy with non-oxygenated blood and oxygenated blood flowing in and out of the heart to cycle back... like how evaporated water turns to rain lol...

Human eyes = they look like some galaxy formations. One eye holds different flecks or palette of color, almost like how colorful galaxies could get.

Human mitosis = a human's cell creation is a galaxies' version of collapse. They usually go backwards to our own version to crash into each other. Ours are more of a cell division. But if we think of it's creation where electrons supposedly combine with each other to create another galaxy, then perhaps the idea isn't that farfetched.

And have you seen mountain structures that look like giants? What do we have as explanation for those?

Imagine the conversation after an alien reads through our anatomy books. One of them looks at you, face either drained of blood, deadpan, or panicking (again... at this point the United Intergalactic Council is on speed dial).

Alien: You're telling me that you are miniscule galaxies... like YOU are a microscopic galaxy that's being kept in form and human shaped by bones and fragile skin?

Human: I won't say that it's fragile. Some of us develop calluses on some of our skin which means they can thicken (forgetting to mention they only happen on specific areas).

Alien: You thicken your skin?!

Human: *snickers* Some have even thick faces (this alien doesn't know our numerous metaphors).

Alien: You can develop armor on your head?!!

Human: I think we got lost track with the anatomy book... what did you mean when you said we were walking galaxies?

Alien: You are! You have depicted everything in this book!

Human: That's just my book for beginners though...

Alien: You have more evidence that you host life inside of you and are capable of producing more?!

Human: ...yes? (thinking of babies, intestinal parasites, bacteria, and lice)

Alien: OH GREAT MOTHER OF STARS!!!! WHAT IS WITH YOU TERRANS AND BEING SO FRUSTRATINGLY DIFFERENT?!? What are you going to show me next?! That you eat Chlcusgyt for food?!

Human: *whispers to self* Those are like... our version of octopus and squids, right? We're not allowed to eat those? They're so tasty though?

Alien: *hears the whisper due to their biologically natural hearing to get away from predators* Oh, stars you are NOT joking with that!

The terrified alien calls the UIC to tell them how Terrans apparently eat one of Space's greatest hunters for dinner. That day, we earned another reason why other intergalactic sentient species should not mess with the Deathworld of Terran.

[resowrites]

Father’s Day - oneshot.

Summary: Henry hears his baby’s heartbeat for the first time…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2202

A/N: This was supposed to go up Sunday but I’ve been crazy busy so many apologies! My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Father’s Day - oneshot.

The dark room hummed with the sounds of monitors, punctuated by the occasional beep or click. Ollie lay quietly on the bed, feeling so nervous she was holding her breath. "Breathe darling, everything will be okay." The sonographer spun around in the direction of Henry's voice.

"He's right. Just relax and we'll get the scan underway in a few minutes." She turned back to continue filling out the questionnaire on her screen. "Okay so, I've got your height and weight. Your blood pressure results were also normal. I just need to know how you're feeling at the moment. Any sickness or diarrhoea in the last 24 hours or so?"

"No," was all Ollie managed to squeak in response.

"Any dizziness or confusion?"

"No more than usual," came Henry's immediate response. Ollie rolled her eyes while the sonographer laughed.

"Okay, and how are you feeling in yourself? Any depression or anxiety?" Ollie struggled to know how to respond. Fortunately, he answered for her.

"She's fine, a little overtired and nervous about today but that's all."

"Good. And I understand. But you've reached the end of your first trimester so you should start to feel a bit better soon. Finally, any stomach cramping or changes in bowel habits?" Again, Henry spoke first.

"She's been a little constipated--"

"Henry!"

"What? You always knew you were full of shit--"

"Oh my God, I could kill you!" The sonographer's head flicked between them both.

"That's perfectly normal. I would also start thinking of a birth plan."

"What should this include?" The sonographer was impressed with his attentiveness.

"Well, I would just start thinking about where to give birth, what your preferences are for pain relief and assisted delivery, how you want your newborn to be cared for, and so on." Henry nodded eagerly. "Anyway, let's crack on and have a look at your womb. I'm just going to apply the jelly now, it'll be a little cold at first…" He took his wife's hand and they smiled at each other expectantly. Moments later, a grey mass shaped vaguely like a baby flashed up on the monitor. Henry felt his breath catch in his throat. The sonographer smiled knowingly. "Ah, there we are. The first image of your baby… what do you guys think?" Ollie laughed with a mixture of happiness and shock. Henry remained silent until she peered up at him, surprised to see him so taken back. He swallowed hard.

"Wow," was all Henry managed to say. The two women giggled. The next few minutes passed quietly, what with the pair mesmerised by their baby's movements and the sonographer busy recording information. "Well, they're certainly a busy little thing…" He watched as their baby's fists bobbed back and forth.

"Is that normal?" The sonographer grinned reassuringly at Ollie.

"Yep, your baby's now fully formed. The organs, limbs, bones, and muscles are all in place."

"How come I can't feel them though if they're moving about that much?"

"Don't worry, you won't start feeling any movements until you're between sixteen and twenty-four weeks. Most first-time mothers don't feel anything before twenty weeks."

"How is everything else looking?" Henry looked at the screen pleadingly.

"Everything's looking good so far. Baby appears to be growing at the normal rate, and as you can hear, their heartbeat's nice and strong." He felt a tear roll down his cheek. Ollie was similarly overwhelmed. "Your placenta's hanging somewhat low but that should correct itself in time…" Ollie could feel her smile turn upside down.

"But what if it doesn't?"

"Oh don't worry, it's really nothing to be concerned about. It's quite common and as I said, it's something that usually corrects itself. Nine out of ten times, the placenta shifts to the upper part of the womb. However, if you notice any bleeding in the last three months of your pregnancy, you must let us know immediately." They both looked at each other concerned. "But please don't fret, placenta previa is actually quite rare and there's no indication at this stage that that's the case."

"What's placenta previa?" Henry cut in.

"It's when the placenta blocks or partially obstructs the cervix." The sonographer nodded, impressed.

"That's correct. It's nice to see your husband's been reading up. Placenta previa is problematic because it means the baby can't be delivered naturally. But we'll know at your second scan whether the placenta has moved or not. Until then I see no cause for alarm." But Ollie was still biting her lip, worried. The sonographer tried to reassure her. "Everything else is looking great though--"

"Can you determine the sex?"

"Henry, I said I didn't want to know!" The sonographer chuckled.

"Don't worry. Although their sex organs are well developed by now they're a bit too wriggly for me to get a better look. I should warn you though, sometimes you find out by accident at the second scan--"

"You mean, if his todger's big enough?"

"Henry!" The sonographer laughed again.

"Yes, but just let the sonographer know ahead of time and they'll do their best to keep it a secret. Do either of you have any more questions for me?" To Ollie's surprise, he responded immediately.

"Yes, when we will know the results of her blood and serum tests?"

"Her doctor will contact her within two weeks if the results are normal. If not then you should hear back within a few days--"

"And what about her due date?"

"Well from the information you've provided and the baby's measurements, her due date should be the 26th of December." Henry and Ollie's mouths dropped open.

"Wait, our baby will be born on Boxing Day?"

"Well, that's just an estimate. Usually, babies are born within a week on either side of the due date."

"So the baby could be born on Christmas Day?!" He was glad she'd asked because he'd had the exact same thought.

"Yes that's a possibility, but it's impossible to say for sure. So Dad, how's your Father's Day going so far?"

"Incredible… we're absolutely thrilled. Can we get copies of the scan to take away?"

"Yep, I can print those off for you now. Would you like a copy of the video as well?"

"Yes!" They chimed in unison. The sonographer then left them alone for several minutes while she put together the necessary paperwork. Ollie looked up to find Henry grinning down at her like a madman.

"So, thoughts?"

"Well I'm a little worried about my placenta…" He sighed.

"Oh darling, she said not to worry. Don't let it overshadow what a wonderful experience this was--"

"But aren't you concerned?"

"Not really, I've read up on placenta previa and even if that's what you've got, it's easy enough to manage and just means you'll need a cesarean instead--"

"But I don't want a cesarean!"

"Ollie you're getting way ahead of yourself, the sonographer wasn't concerned so you shouldn't be either. Anyway, what did you think of the baby? I was shocked to see them looking so well formed already--"

"Well, what did you expect it to look like, a sea-monkey?" Henry laughed.

"Aren't you happy though? She said everything looked great!"

"Of course I'm happy, I just hope everything continues going smoothly…" He leaned down further and kissed her forehead.

"It will sweetheart, come on, let's get you cleaned up, and then we'll get to my parents for lunch." Henry carefully wiped her stomach with some paper towels, placed a kiss near her belly button, and gently sat her up. The sonographer then reentered the room.

"Here we are, baby's first pictures." She handed a copy to each of them and he felt a lump in his throat once again.

"Thank you so much… we'll cherish these forever." The sonographer smiled.

"I'm glad I was able to help. I'm so happy for you both. Remember, you're free to contact us again if you have any questions. For now, just relax and enjoy the rest of your pregnancy."

***

"Wow, I can't believe this is our actual baby…" Ollie stared down lovingly at the black-and-white picture.

"I know, it seems so unreal… and yet there it is. Proof in black and white!"

"I can't see a nub, so it could still be a boy or a girl."

"What nub, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, haven't you heard of the nub theory? Guess you've got some more reading to do," she teased. "The nub is a tube that eventually develops into genitals. The theory goes that if the nub is at a thirty-degree or more angle, you're having a boy and for a girl, it's almost straight."

"So what does the picture show?"

"Well, that's just it, the baby was moving about too much for the nub to be captured."

"Well, I imagine at the next scan we'll have a better idea. The Cavills are well endowed so I expect at least a ninety-degree angle." She shook her head.

"I still can't believe I've bred with you…"

"What? If he has a widget as big as his brain he'll be unstoppable!"

"Will you please stop?! For all we know, we could be having a girl!"

"I hope so." She looked at Henry surprised.

"Is that right? I had no idea you had a preference…"

"Well, of course, I'd love a boy as well. But there are so many boys in the family already. And you know I'm a big soppy git under this brazen exterior, I'd love a daddy's girl--"

"Yeah, but I'm more of a tomboy which means she might be as well. Just cos we're having a girl it doesn't mean she'll love pink and princesses."

"No, but just in case, I'm down for having makeovers and my nails painted." She giggled.

"Will you promise not to make fun of her though? Regardless of whatever she likes?"

"Of course not!"

"Oh please, my dad made fun of everything. The boybands I loved, the clothes I wore, even the way I spoke." He regarded her sadly.

"Darling, one thing I can promise is that I will never be like your father."

"Good. I also want you to really listen to her. She has to have the best role model in you so she's treated well by other men--"

"She won't be allowed to date! Or get married… or leave home!"

"Henry, don't be ridiculous! They don't stay little forever." Henry harrumphed.

"Oh stop, they're not even born yet and you're already imagining them leaving home!"

"Well it'll come sooner than you think," she teased.

"Let's just focus on getting them here first. And I want you to promise that if we have a boy, you'll keep him close and do everything you can to protect him."

"Oh darling, of course I will. In truth, I'd prefer a boy. Growing up with girls was hard work. I've got no nephews on my side either. Just so long as he’s not a mini you, we should be fine…"

"What's wrong with him being a mini-me?!" She looked at him exasperatedly.

"Henry, I don't think I could cope with two Cavills teasing me nonstop, eating us out of house and home, and making a mess everywhere they go! Now, if he poops like you as well--"

"Oh stop, you're the gassiest out of the two of us!"

"No, I bloody well am not! You've got more hot air than a zeppelin!"

"Well, at least I don't sound like a burst one at night!" Her mouth dropped open.

"You little shit! You've got a cheek saying the mother of your child is loud at night when you sound like a frog in a swamp! Anyway, we can't bicker like this in front of them either."

"I think that might be a tall order…"

"Well, either way, I want them to feel secure and safe in the knowledge their parents love each other."

"Oh darling, they'll never question that. Even if I do occasionally," Henry shot her a wink and she rolled her eyes. "Now, when are we going to tell everyone?" She looked at him confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're nearly out of the first trimester, it should be safe to start telling everyone now. I can't wait, it's so exciting! How shall we do it?" She bit her lip.

"I don't know Henry, it still makes me a bit uneasy."

"Oh sweetheart, you can see from the scan how well they're doing. If not now, then when?"

"I suppose you're right. But did you really want to tell everyone today? I don't want to upstage your mother's lovely meal."

"Don't be daft, it'll be the best Father's Day gift we could give my dad. It's certainly been the best Father's Day for me. They'll both be thrilled, I promise." She smiled and pulled out her phone.

"Oh go on then soppy bollocks…" Henry beamed as he took the phone. He then quickly dialled the number and pressed the speakerphone button. Eventually, a woman answered.

"Mum? Hi, yeah we're on our way now. Sorry, we got stuck in traffic on our way back from an appointment. In fact, can you go fetch Dad? Ollie and I have something very special to tell you both…"

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