#thankfully i still have like 9 months to prepare

[juniperskye]

Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat.  A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #haley hotchner

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Giving birth the au natural way

This is a reworking of a roleplay I had recently with @allkindsofpreg

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed working on it :)

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Our midwife was surprisingly agreeable. Which was a shock… first time, clueless parents being left to their own devices to bring forth a baby wasn’t exactly many couples idea of a good time, but for us, we were prepared and ready. We much preferred our own company as much as anyone else’s, and let’s be honest, we find we can be ourselves more when we don’t have a room of people watching us. So we booked the retreat our midwife recommended to us. 2 houses in an area of nothingness, one for us, one for her. We paid through the nose to book them for 2 weeks but we had to be sure so we booked 1 week either side of your due date. We’d spent a week here getting set up when early morning came on your due date accompanied by some mild, but noticeable cramping. A text to the midwife, and a reply saying she was on her way - but if we didn’t need her just let her know when the baby was born and she’d come and do the medical checks.

You swallowed a big gulp of fresh woodland air as you stood on the patio area, the weather thankfully warm enough to not need to wrap up. You were barefoot and wearing a light top and shorts set that you had been sleeping in - by rights should still be sleeping in - but the cramps were getting you excited - you’d waited 9 months for this moment.

You gathered up the hem of your top to rest on top of the impressive expanse of your stomach. The muscles there tightened again and, closing your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The gentle breeze felt cool against your flushed skin. You pressed a hand to the spot you could feel our little one kicking out against.

“I know, it’s not comfortable for you either, is it?” Another kick in response confirmed it and you smiled. “Well it won’t be long now.” Hopefully, anyway.

You wandered back in the house to scour the kitchen for some light breakfast— you were going to need the energy later. You were just about to pour a glass of orange juice when you felt my arms slide around your pregnancy-expanded waist, my body moulding around your back. You leaned back into me and rested your head against my shoulder. “You should go back to bed,” you mumbled, but I made no move to let you go. “Might be a while before we get another chance.”

“I heard you correctly earlier, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m missing any of this” I say, kissing the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. I release off you and fill the coffee machine and set it to brew “though I suspect I might need this” I say with a grin.

I walk to the door you were recently outside of and look out to the sunrise just starting to poke above the horizon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to watch a beautiful woman do something beautiful with our baby”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought with it a longing. Technically it was fine for you to have a cup, but the nerves were already starting to build and the whole point of coming out here was to keep everything calm and peaceful. Besides, the baby didn’t seem to like it and nauseous was the last thing you wanted to be right now. You just decided to stick with toast and juice.

By the time you had finished preparing your food, the coffee was finished also, so you poured some into a campfire mug and joined me on the patio.

“I’m glad we’re doing this here,” you said, handing over the cup and taking in the view with me. You placed down your plate, and hands now free, you placed them at your hips and arched backward, pulling your shoulder blades together and stretching your lower back. It made your belly stick out even more and caused your shirt to ride up about halfway, getting stuck there even when you straightened back up. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What? You find this sexy?” you asked, rocking your hips and rolling your huge tummy around in a little mock seductive dance. “Enjoy it now, before it’s gone!”

I moved around in front of you, my hands clasping around the belly, warm to the touch. I can’t help but smile. “I’ll enjoy it as much as I can… then the next… then the next one after that” I punctuated each statement with a kiss. Suddenly I feel your belly tense and you betray the moment with a slight wince “was that a contraction?” I ask.

“Mmm,” you hummed in confirmation, leaning into my touch and letting out a slow breath, your hands finding purchase on my forearms. This one held on a bit longer, sharpening at its peak, and your grip tightened considerably— your anchor as the pain washed over you. Your stance widened, your knees bend as I supported you and coached you to sway in time with your breaths. Even when it passed you kept your hold on me, looking into the distance and laughing a little breathlessly.

“I guess they started last night,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “But it was the same as I’d been feeling for weeks now and, I don’t know, I guess I thought labor would feel… different somehow. But they’re definitely closer together now. And stronger.” The aftershocks of that last cramp still twinged and tugged. “So I guess todays the day?”

“We can only hope” I say with a smile. My phone buzzes with a text, I pick it up and read it - it’s from the midwife. She’s texting to say she just arrived and she was going to get bedded down and for us to ring her in case she’s needed - she’d keep her phone on loud so it would wake her. I casually comment that she’s made good time but not really surprising considering the time of day it is.

We hold each other close looking out over the brightening morning.

“Want to go for a walk?” I enquire, “might help get things established? I’ll be nice and even help you get your shoes and socks on!”

Considering you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for some time now, you gladly accept my offer. Grabbing some stretchy leggings and a t-shirt from the dresser, your gaze lingers on the little stack of newborn onesies folded up on top - you give your tummy a little pat—it’s hard to believe that soon there’s going to be a whole new person in the world. You admit you’re going to miss this, the feeling of having someone growing inside me, but you suspect you won’t have to miss it for long. We want a big family.

We start out along the same path we’ve been walking every morning, but only barely make it past the tree line when another contraction hits. You try to walk through it at first, but of course I notice and suggest we take a rest and remind me that this is why we’re here—it’s not a race, we’re not trying to force anything, we’re just going to listen and respond and let it happen.

After an hour, your clothes are stuck moulded to your skin, your hips are aching, and we’re still only halfway through the loop. “This is a lot harder than it was yesterday,” you say, still slightly hunched and out of breath from the latest contraction.

I stop and rub your back, the feeling eliciting a groan of appreciation from you, I then say “come on let’s do the thing”

You smile knowing what I mean. You stretch out, straightening your back as I come in behind you. Reaching around and crossing my hands under your belly I pull up relieving the pressure on your back and hips immensely. Your sigh of relief was glorious. We stood there for a good minute just rocking side to side in the strange form of embrace until you reach down and grab at my hand. The next contraction was building, and I could feel everything in your belly between my fingers. You grunt as the feeling builds, gripping my forearm more and more. The feeling doesn’t last long, 30 seconds at most, but it had only been around 10 minutes since your last one - you were keeping track. They were definitely speeding up.

As your grip lessens on my arm signalling the end of the pain I lower your belly and gradually let go, accompanied by a ‘whump’ sound expelled from you as you took back over the weight.

Still behind you I wrap my arms in the gap between your breasts and the top of your belly hugging you close.

I whisper close to your ear, something about the early morning and complete quiet not wanting me to speak too loudly as I say “sorry baby, I had to… let it go”

Of course the last words were said in a song-song tone as you groaned - nothing to do with the contractions this time. I apologise with “so I started the dad jokes a little bit early.”

You feel a little roll and then a kick up somewhere near your rib cage. “See? Even the baby is protesting,” you whine, rubbing at the tender spot. Alright, maybe you’re a little cranky at having to bear the full weight of gravity again. But it gives you an idea. “Lake?” you suggest.

It’s another two contractions before we get to the clearing, but it’s so worth it. The lake is surrounded by mountains on one side, forest on the other, and the water is crystal clear and still quite cold. I give you a skeptical look, but you’re determined. “It’s warming up now that the sun’s up,” you reason. “Or maybe we’ll just have to huddle together for warmth,” you suggest with a waggle of your eyebrows, without hesitation you pull off your shirt and kick off the shoes you would not be able to put back on by yourself. The leggings are too clingy and stuck to bother trying to take off, so they’re all you’re wearing as you begin to wade into the fresh water.

You take a step in and all the air leaves my lungs in one whoosh. It. Is. Cold. But now here you are, topless, one foot in the water, back straining, and another contraction starting with no feasible form of relief in sight. Suddenly the pressure spikes and this baby feels so heavy pressing down inside you. You let out some noise of surprise or discomfort and I'm there in an instant.

I wade into the water throwing off my top and tossing it into the rough area where your pile of clothes are, my own trousers and shoes still on and soaked through.

“Babe!” you call, though I’m already there—a question, a plea.

I grab hold of your hand as you squeeze for all you’re worth, the pain of the contraction evident. You’re clearly having a difficult time as you let out a low pitched moan as your grip tightens and tightens against my hand. Suddenly you release, gasping a breath out.

“You OK?” I enquire. You nod, not able to speak. A few seconds later you manage “that was a rough one, hope there aren’t too many like that” with a weak smile.

I return the smile to you as your hands release mine and you rub them over my body. “My big strong hero diving into the water to save his damsel in distress”

I gulp, noticing the chilled water having an obvious effect on your nipples, they had already gotten big and dark with the onset of your milk coming in, and now they poked out almost as long as a finger to the first knuckle.

You follow my eyes and see where I have spotted.

“Nipple stimulation is good to bring on contractions you know” you purr at me.

I don’t need to be told twice my hands paw at your breasts, your voice betraying a giggle as I move to the nipples, water from the lake leaving them slippery as my fingers tug and squeeze them. Your hands move from my body to both sides of your belly as you groan - at first with the pleasure of my touch then finally with the effects of another contraction starting its journey on you.

“I guess it works,” you note before the full force of the contraction takes hold, grabbing onto my shoulders and resting your forehead against mine, breathing in and out slowly along with me as the pain crests. It still hurts, but at least the water is taking off some of the pressure and you’re able to stay present through the whole thing.

When it’s over, you slide your hands down my arms and position me hands back on your breasts. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘labour’ thing,” you say with a grin as I continue my previous ministrations. You initiate a kiss and push yourself deeper into my grasp and chuckle as you’re brought up short by the belly between us.

Your hands find their way to my chest, my hips, then dip down beneath the waistband of my pants. It’s not exactly an ideal temperature for this, but you still hear my grunts of pleasure as you stroke, massage and tug.

We pause for another contraction—your grip moving a safe distance away from anything particularly sensitive—and you bury your face into the crook of my neck with a groan. The vocalizations help, a long, sustained note that rises in volume, but breaks when the contraction becomes too much and you switch to releasing short puffs of air. When you’re finally able to take a full breath again, you lift your head and look into my eyes. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You’re the boss, princess” I grin as I follow you out of the water, watching it drain off down your hips and ass as you get closer and closer to the edge. You give a little wiggle as you feel my hand pressed against your soaked through bottoms making contact with your ass cheek and I’m reminded of the caress you gave me in the water, my own length stiffening at the thought once again. We finally reach the waters edge and find a tree stump for you to sit on as I dry off what I can of your feet using my top before sliding your shoes back on again. I give you a hand putting your own top on as I pull on my own - now wet and sticking to my body, as I give you a hand up and we start our slow, squelching walk back to the cabin.

“Right now I want a nice warm shower” I say, you nod as another contraction picks up. You’re now at the point where you’re coping by vocalising, you stop moving as the contraction is upon you. You groan something in between your moans about the head feeling so low and how much your hips hurt that I come in behind you and squeeze my hands tight against your hips, pressing to try and help.

The force of my hands adds a nice bit of respite for your overtaxed back and pelvis, but it does little to counter the powerful pressure barrelling down in your core. You can’t speak, can’t stand up

straight, can’t focus on anything besides the air moving in and out of your lungs, and even that is a struggle.

Between the increasingly frequent contractions and your slow walk turning into an even slower waddle, the trip back from the lake takes at least twice as long as it did to get there. Our destination is in sight when another contraction hits and you grab onto my forearms—it’s a routine by this point—and bend your knees, getting into a gentle squat in front of you. Everything feels swollen and tight and impossibly full as your womb compresses. You start to wonder if your water breaking would relieve some of that painful tension.

Finally, we make it back and the shower is big enough for a party, so there’s easily enough room for both of us and the birthing ball we’d brought. I start the water, help strip you out of your wet and sticky clothes, and get you situated on the ball before getting myself ready and joining you in there. The warmth—and my hands—soothe your tight muscles as you roll your hips in gentle circles on the ball. It’s almost as if you can feel the head moving down with the force of each contraction and as a result you keep your legs splayed wide. More than once you catch my eyes lingering on your feminine curves. With more than a little assistance, you get up and have me take your seat on the ball; then you sit on my lap facing me, your belly pressing into me, your legs wrapped around mine in invitation.

The slippery ball coupled with the slippery occupants take a lot of my concentration to stay stable as you climb onto my lap, but wrapping your arms around the back of my neck helps keep us upright.

Your belly presses tight against me as you continue to writhe and wriggle as you huff and pant in my ear, your forehead pressed against mine.

I find myself getting hard at the closeness of your body and you react to the feel of the bulge pressing against the underside of your belly by rocking back and forth teasing both it and me.

My hands grip behind your back as you writhe, as I manage to get what little purchase I can on your slippery skin.

The contraction snuck up on you, your mind elsewhere as the all too familiar tightening ramped up, causing you to lean back and grip hard on my shoulders. You suddenly squeal as you feel a release. Whilst the obvious splash was lost in the water running within the shower, your waters had broken, and the sudden realisation that the baby’s head is just right on the cusp of appearing at your lips has you start shaking with anxiety, knowing you’re getting closer to having to push.

“Oh!” Even though you’ve been expecting it, waiting for it, the sudden release still takes you by surprise. Without the cushion of the amniotic sac the head descends quickly and violently, locking into your canal like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “Ohhh,” the exclamation quickly turns into a groan—the new wave of pressure that comes with this contraction is intense and your hand automatically reaches between your legs. There’s nothing there to touch yet, but you swear it feels like the baby is about to fall right out of you.

You slide off my lap and settle into a deep squat. Your breaths are coming in short, frantic gasps and the water running down your face makes it difficult to take in air, so you pitch forward onto your knees, resting your crossed forearms on my thighs and burying your head between my knees. Any other time the gesture would be most salacious, but right now all you want is to get through this contraction without drowning. I do my best to pull your hair back and shield you from the shower head, you manage to pant and curse your way through the worst of it.

You say we need to get out of here, to dry off and get to wherever we want to be for the birth, but even when it’s over you can’t bring yourself to unfurl from your current position. I presume you must be comfortable, as we stay this way for several seemingly back-to-back contractions that leave you trembling, nauseous and a little bit lightheaded. The weight in your hips seems to keep you anchored to the ground.

You recall reading about what labour would be like, how difficult and painful and relentless the transition stage usually is, but some part of you thought that preparing for it would make you more equipped to handle it. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admit, though you’re not sure I can hear your muffled voice over the water spray. Not that you have any choice.

Maybe I did hear you, or maybe I just know you well enough to sense that you need to change positions, because before you realise, the water is shut off and you’re on your feet, wrapped in an oversized towel and my embrace.

I assist you out of the shower and we plod slowly and deliberately step by step into the main living room. Your walking stance still has a widespread gait, almost like you had stepped out of a long day in the saddle, but I know it’s just subconscious with you trying to relieve the pressure on your hips.

I lead you forward to the sofa, where I guide your hands to the armrests on one side. You grab hold and drop down into a partial squat, bouncing a little on your thighs. "Let me get something down here, don’t want to make too much of a mess" I grin, though I think the expression is lost on you, entirely focusing on the weight in your pelvis.

I stroke your back and give it a rub as I step away and grab a few more towels, placing them on the seat and around in front of it. I suspect both the wooden floor, and the faux leather seats would wipe up fine, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I hear a groan coming from you and look up to see you swaying your hips in a figure eight pattern. You look up and lock eyes with me, you give me a quick smile as if to say that you're OK, and I return the grin with "It's all going as it should baby, you're doing really well. I love you and you're doing a wonderful job."

You suddenly squat down low, using the chair arm as support, roaring as you dip down. I scramble to the side to make sure that there's nothing obvious happening spying a long trail of mucus dripping onto the floor from your crotch. I lift the back of the towel up, exposing your ass as you manage a moment of strained speech "can you see anything?"

"Sorry baby, no." I don’t mention the long trail of slime which I wipe off with the towel. There's no obvious bulging around your lips however. You give a dejected sigh. "I think you were doing really well there when you were using gravity to help, so lets get back to what we were doing in the shower, but maybe a little more upright?"

You nod, and let me take hold of you as I lead you around to the seat. I sit down on it, still noticeably dripping water from the shower from me, and you stand in front of me as I lower myself down. You then drop down into a squat between my legs, your belly hanging low almost touching the ground you squat is that deep - you use my knees and thighs as support. My hands reach over to your shoulders and squeeze as you turn your head slightly and nuzzle into my left hand. The brief moment of calm is lost when the next contraction picks up though, and you're soon roaring out loud once more.

You want to push, but know the urge is coming more from your head than your body. You catch yourself wishing for this to just be over and take a moment to refocus on the present moment. As the next contraction builds, you close your eyes and let your body do what it wants, what it needs.

Your grip on my thighs tightens, concentrating the tension there to allow the rest of your body to relax. Your hips are still restless but keeping them open feels right, so you continue to sway in your deep squat, shifting your weight as your knees swing left, and right, left, and right. You focus the sounds leaving your mouth into one long, sustained hum, the tone increasing in volume and pitch as the pressure intensifies. The pain starts deep in your core and radiates outward, wrapping around your butt, thighs and creeping up your spine and up to your shoulders.

You throw your head back suddenly, arching your back and pulling up against gravity’s strong downward force. The noises in your throat shift to a series of primal whining moans – your whole body trembles as it attempts to deal with the shocks of pain centralized in your core. Just when you think you will surely be split in two, it dulls just enough for you to find my eyes, my focus, my excitement and then you remember… yes, you’re excited too.

I stand with you in the small breaks between contractions to give your knees a break, but the breaks get smaller and smaller and soon there’s not even enough time to change positions before another one is upon you. You don’t want to be stuck in that position, so instead you follow me to a seated spot on the couch. It’s deep enough so that you can settle between my legs and rest your back up against me. I pepper kisses along the line of your shoulder and up your neck as you twist your head so I can place one on your lips. My hands are molded to your generous swell, you placing yours over the top of them, interlocking our fingers as another relentless wave begins.

You pant, moan and writhe through another two contractions before the pressure in your ass and back becomes unbearable - your tailbone feeling like it’s going to snap. You know it must be the baby’s head moving down. Time must be passing, but you don’t know how long it is before the frenzied onslaught of contractions begins to slow and you feel like you can finally take a breath again.

You stand up and sit on my knee, pivoting in the position to swing one of your legs over my thigh, turning yourself sideways so that you can look up at me.

“Hi,” you say, and giggle as I give your bum an affectionate little squeeze. “I think it’s time to decide…” you pause, suddenly filled with nervous energy. I pull you in close, rub your tummy and wait for you to continue. The next contraction confirms it—the feeling, the urge that’s been building slowly until this moment when it now seems so obvious—you try to get the words out but you’re quickly tensed and grunting, trying your best not to be completely consumed by it.

“Need to decide—“ a quick huff, “where I’m going—“ a groan, “hnngh, to start pushing!” you finally yell, slamming backward into me and panting so quickly and heavily that it looks like you’re shaking. One of my hands grabs fiercely onto yours. The other disappears between your legs.

My mind recalls the bits of training and insight given to us by the midwife after we told her we wanted to go it alone. She was supportive, but of course insisted that she was nearby in case anything went wrong. She showed us a demonstration of dilation, and let me practice on a training dummy to see what the different stages felt like, so I was prepared. She explained it was often normal to feel like you need to push too early, so you were pushing against your own muscles rather than pushing into an open hole… it wasn't recommended.

My fingers entered into you, resulting in a small gasp. I immediately noticed how wet your passage was, presumably from the waters breaking, but thankfully I had no issue with snaking my fingers deeper and deeper. What shocked me first was how close to the entrance your cervix was - we had tested early in the pregnancy to see how deep I needed to feel back there, and to be blunt, it was painful pressing in that hard.

I felt the head at that point, my finger tracing around the circle of the entrance, a definite difference in texture between your muscles and the head of the baby. My face beamed. You looked at me quizzically. I replied "I can feel the baby, its right there, you're almost ready to push."

You managed a giggle and a strained sigh as you say "I know, I told you that, don't you doubt me young man when I tell you a need to find somewhere to push."

I look apologetic, but the mirth in your eyes gives away the fact you were just teasing me.

"Lets go outside…" I suggest, pausing a second, half expecting you to say no, that you were too vulnerable like this. You didn’t say anything. I continued. "I figure we wanted the natural air, the calming environment… and I don’t want to think I blew up the air mattress for nothing."

You giggled, but were cut short by another tensing pain. As we hold each other, you groan and howl, but start to wriggle off my lap. I question what the rush is, and you manage between panting breaths "don’t… know… how… long… I can wait."

I walk you over to the door, where you grab onto a chair back from the kitchen table sat by the large window overlooking the wilderness. I first grab hold of a pair of shorts - realising that if someone should walk past, it would be easier to avoid a public indecency charge for you than it would be for me - then pull open the door and rush back in to grab the air mattress I'd blown up the first day we got here.

As I dragged it and hefted it up to get it out the door, you pleaded at me to hurry. Your face showed genuine concern.

I took the mattress down the couple of stairs to a picnic area set outside the house. There was a cleared, grassy area next to it which didn’t have any significant amount of branches or any other sharp things which may burst the mattress, dashing back up for you, I led you down the few steps until you got to the mattress, lowering you down to your hands and knees.

You wasted no time at all, pushing back on your hands and thighs, you groaned, held your breath and gave your first push.

After so many hours of passive endurance, pushing with the contraction actually feels good. It almost seems to counter the internal pressure—almost—like finally being able to sneeze after your nose tickled all day. But it’s still your first time doing it and you’re not used to trying to focus and control those innermost muscles.

You rock back and you’re sure you look ridiculous with your ass high up in the air, but you feel my hands rubbing all along your thighs, coaxing you to relax and keep your hips open wide. For the first few contractions you try holding your breath and pushing as hard as you can for as long as you can. However, all that does is make you lightheaded and tired - and frustrated - that it seems to be fruitless.

I sense your growing impatience and ask if you want me to count for you and coach your pushes. You nod, and when you tense with the next contraction, I start at ten and work my way down to

one. You’re determined to keep going, but I tell me that it’s okay to let go and take a break for a second, that the baby is making its way down and it’s okay to breathe for a moment. You release a pained moan and try to pull in enough air to make it through another push. You’re trying to follow along with my instructions, but between being unable to see my face or feel your progress, having to balance on shaky arms on a shaky mattress… well, it’s just not working like that in this moment.

Carefully, you lower myself down so that you’re lying on your side, belly and head resting on some of the nest of pillows I’d brought out with us. Your knees are bent, one leg resting on the bed and the other flared out so you’re open like a clamshell. I sit toward the base of the mattress by your bent legs, my body angled toward yours so you can see me and your free leg can rest in my lap or over my shoulder. I also have a good line of sight as to what’s happening between your legs.

This puts a bit of unwelcome pressure on your hips, but for the most part this feels better—just as it was this morning, the breeze is fresh and cool against your skin allowing you to focus on my face and what your body is telling you. When another contraction starts, you hook my arm into the crook of my knee and pull it back toward your shoulder - as best as you can around your large stomach. Instead of holding your breath you release it slowly, squeezing your core and curling forward until you run out of air, then inhale just as slowly before repeating the process until the contraction begins to wane.

You lower your leg back down around my waist, put a hand on your belly, and look up at me with a smile. “That was good,” you say, finally feeling like you’re getting into the rhythm of this stage.

I plant a kiss on the top of your knee and join with you in feeling the firm swell that holds our child. “Just let me know if I can do anything” I offer with a little laugh.

Several contractions later you request that I begin holding your leg back—the urge to bear down is becoming overwhelming and you find yourself lost in it and unable to do anything else. The pressure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and every push feels like something is on the verge of cracking, bursting or tearing.

You’re holding your breath again, but only for a few seconds at a time—it’s all you can manage before the instinct to recoil from the pain takes over. It’s changing now—sharpening, burning—and you let out a sharp cry, your body jerking as your knees try to snap shut against my firm grip. I hold you in place, letting you squeeze me in a death grip even as I wrangle your legs to ensure your hips stay open. I try to rub a comforting hand along your stomach, thighs, and bum. You know you must be making progress when you feel me stretching and circling your vaginal opening, trying to prepare you for what’s to come. I give a few playful flicks to your clit, as if to make you forget how bad that last round of pushing felt. It works and you grind down on my hand, pushing it deeper into your folds.

“How- how close?” you ask, still panting despite the contraction being over.

“You’re doing really well” I say enthusiastically, “Each time you push, you bulge out… a few more and I might even start to see the head peeking out.”

You seem to visibly grow bolder at the news, renewing your stamina as you pull back your leg again, once more hooking it over my shoulder. I lean in with my hands, pressing lightly against the bulge forming in your vagina, the first outward signs of the head attempting to make its way, with your help, into the world.

Each push brings with it a groan of effort, and several huffing breaths as I keep count for you, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand rather than allowing your mind to wander and lose track of the progress rather than just concentrating on the pain in each rush of effort.

You push your crotch into my hands, wiggling a little as I stretch out my thumb in response and rub it slowly in circles around your clit. Your groans intensify to shouts, making me pause my actions, but you gasp in between breaths that its helping, and I shouldn’t stop. I leaned forward as best I could with your leg still up in the air on my shoulder and kissed the bottom of the bump, all the playful and affectionate touching resulting in your smile back at me as the contraction finally finished.

Another three, maybe four pushes later, and finally, the first outward signs of the baby appear at your lips, the teardrop shape stretching out over a tiny fraction of the head.

I almost jump with enthusiasm. “I can see it’s head baby… you’re doing so well… keep that effort up.” My gleeful sounds give you another burst of stamina, as you double up your efforts for the next push, straining hard.

“Easy baby… remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t force it. Take it nice and slow and you’ll get there sooner than you know.” You’re left panting by the exertion of the last attempt at pushing.

Of course, as much as there was some visibility of the head, it soon slipped back in again, your lips closing up around it as the push was let off, but between us, we both knew we had passed another milestone.

Your hand snakes down between your legs and feel around, realising that you couldn’t feel the head, and a little crestfallen, you start to take your hand away.

I grab your hand before you can remove it and put it back into place, using my fingers to separate your lips. Your fingers probe in and just inside, you feel it too, the slick, slightly spongy texture of the head of our baby.

“Keep it there on the next push” I say, as you nod, and once more the need to push is upon you. Feeling your finger being moved out as the head moves out, whilst only a fraction of an inch, gives you more motivation to carry on, and you’re suddenly beaming at me with your smiling face, the awe of the moment capturing you entirely.

“I feel it. I feel it!” Your finger traces a line up and down the slit between your folds—it’s still small and tight, but even your laughter causes the head to bob in and out of sight. “Hi, baby,” you coo, then look up at me and suddenly you’re overcome with emotion. “We’re about to be- parents,” you manage, biting back a happy sob.

I smile down at you, wiping away a stray tear and cupping your cheek tenderly before moving my hand down to the crest of your stomach. Another contraction starts but you’re still processing your feelings so I give the thigh you have tucked around my shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t cry now, love, you’d only just got your breathing under control!”

You laugh, but I’m right— your body is demanding that you push and you’ve got to actually get the baby out before we can officially celebrate. You’re reminded of just how much work there is left to do when your next few pushes do little to reveal any more of the head. With my help, your knee is pulled back almost to your shoulder opening you up wide, you have one arm wrapped around the perimeter of your belly as I keep my palm pressed against your opening. The mound presses out and

recedes in time with your efforts, refusing to retain any progress despite giving everything you have to the pushes.

“You’re doing amazing,” I assure you, and you scoff in disagreement. “You are! You’re stretching, opening up nicely for our baby.”

You might have mumbled something about our baby inheriting an unnecessarily big head from me, but the truth is the baby is just big all over—at our last appointment, they estimated 9lbs+ if you made it to your due date… which is today. You groan and make another attempt at the seemingly impossible task, it always feels like you’re making progress until you stop pushing and it all disappears back into your tight folds.

You rest your leg back down at my side and reach your arms up to me. “I need to move again,” you decide. I pull you up to a seated position and help you swing my legs over the side so you’re perched at the edge of the mattress. It’s low enough to the ground that it’s almost a squat, and I kneel down in front of your spread knees. On the next contraction you curl forward, one hand on the underside of your belly and the other squeezing my shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp as the head lurches forward quickly, but just as quickly my hand is there providing support and counterpressure, tugging gently at the edges of your taut hole. The head jerks back inside when you take a breath, but then you lean back into it, pulling one leg back while keeping the other on the ground for stability. Another quick breath and then you’re back at it, letting out a high pitched cry when you feel yourself widen another fraction of an inch as the stretch starts to burn.

“Don’t let me tear!” you beg desperately between pushes—even though you’re just starting to crown, it feels like you can’t possibly open any more, and it’s almost a relief when the head sinks back inside this time.

You don’t make much progress during the next contraction, and I can tell it’s because of your hesitant pushes— you’re afraid of the pain that’s coming. When it’s over, I coax you down into a full squat in front of me. I don’t say anything, just pepper kisses all over your face and belly as my hands escalate their ministrations between your legs that have you squirming and breathless going into the next contraction. You push again in earnest, a mix of pain and pleasure, throwing your head back in a moan that turns into a shout and something in you gives way—the head making its way past my tailbone. This time when you stop pushing, the head stays right where it is, bowing out the skin of my vagina into a wide dome, a small round cap of hair at its peak.

“That’s it, we’re seeing real progress now baby, you’re doing so well.” My voice has a more muted tone than my yelling, enthusiastic outbursts from earlier, more intended to keep you calm and concentrating on the task at hand.

My fingers trace around the bulge between your legs now, feather light you squirm under my caress.

“That… that’s not fair” you manage to gasp, concentrating on the touch and not the cramping pains that have been your ever present companion for what seemed like hours now.

“You deserve a reward for all the hard work you have done, for all three of us” I say to you, my grin can only be described as devilish. My lips meet yours and we kiss in a passionate embrace - my hand curling around your shoulder in support as you brace yourself on my knee to stop you toppling over.

As we’re kissing, you pull back and groan, yet another contraction starting once more. My free hand which was down between your legs reaches up to caress the bump, then continuing further north it meets a breast and a nipple.

The sensitive area had already been a keen play area between us over the last few weeks, your nipples getting hyper sensitive as they were getting ready to express milk for the baby. My touch caused you to shiver as you recalled a recent play session, and you arch your back involuntarily pressing your chest out to give me more access.

My fingers lightly tug and squeeze the nipple, teasing it back and forth until you expressed a few drops of colostrum.

As I did so you pushed, eyes scrunched tight, panting out loud, all of your concentration on the pleasurable touches I was giving you rather than the pain you were feeling.

The nipple stimulation had an unexpected side effect, the contraction surged unexpectedly. You almost faltered and cried out but managed to maintain your composure, growling phrases such as “come on baby, come on out, mummy and daddy want to meet you” in between panting breaths.

You scream all of a sudden “so… much… pressure!” My hand drops down to between your legs and I feel the sheer amount of the head that’s starting to poke through. Unfortunately there’s still quite a way to go until you’re crowning, but my finger slips in between your lips and the baby’s head, stretching your skin a little.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by yourself, as I press my finger in and stretch you howl out in pain.

“I’m sorry baby but I need to help you stretch. There’s a long way to go and we need to take this nice, slow and easy”

You have moisture at the corners of your eyes as you say you know, acutely aware of how much work you have done, and beginning to realise just how much you still have to do.

“I’m with you” I blurt out, trying to get you back to a good place, your forehead slumping forward and meeting mine, as you pant, the contraction finally passing, my eyes look down between your legs and see the head sitting there, testament to the work you have done so far.

Some of the tension leaves you as you feel the skin stretch further - it’s still heavy and tight, but at least it doesn’t feel on the verge of causing damage anymore—and you sink forward into my embrace. You reach your hand down to feel what I’d just felt, barely recognising your own body. Your lips are hot, puffy and flared out monstrously wide so that they press out against your thighs. Your opening is kept taut and open in a perfectly round “O” and the skin feels so tightly moulded around the baby’s head even as its exit refuses to give way. You know women do this every day… but it just doesn’t seem physically possible in this moment.

“I need to stretch.” You’re telling yourself as much as me, but I nod anyway. “I need to relax long enough to let myself stretch.” You look at me almost pleadingly, and I know what you’re asking.

There’s little danger now of losing sight of the modest crown, so I lift you out of your squat and back up onto the mattress. You’re careful to keep your legs wide, knees falling open to the side as you lay fully on your back. I join you as soon as you’re situated, fitting myself between your hips, propping myself up on one side and hovering over your torso. We share a laugh as we try to find our balance, but soon you’re wincing with the start of another contraction.

“Breathe, baby,” I say gently, my free hand moving between your legs to continue its agonizing work. “Just breathe for now. Your body will do the work for you.”

“And you,” you manage before gritting your teeth and clutching at the pillows shoved in various supportive positions around you. I somehow manage to both stretch your hole and pleasure you at the same time, my thumb and index finger seemingly at odds in their objectives. You can’t help but push a little at the tail end and the burning is more bearable this time.

Between contractions you buck up your hips so both of my hands can work toward opening you up, a mix of massaging and stretching and teasing that has you pulling me on top of you. I kiss you deeply before my mouth moves down your neck and chest, settling over one of your darkened nipples as my tongue playfully flicks and envelops the sensitive tip. You’re so caught up in the sensations that the next contraction—made so much stronger so much faster by the stimulation—takes you completely by surprise and you scream, pulling hastily back on your legs and riding your body’s instinct to push.

“Easy now,” I caution you, pushing back against the growing dome between your legs and carefully supporting the suddenly overly stretched skin. “Breathe.”

“I can’t!” you yell, throwing your head back for a quick inhale before curling forward again.

“Then pant, pant! Hoo-hoo-hoo. Like you’re blowing out a birthday candle.”

You try to emulate releasing quick puffs of air but it turns into one long groan that escalates back into a howl as the pressure of the baby’s head combines with my tugging fingers. You have to press your hands into your trembling knees just to try and keep them open. Another push and you see me looking down between your legs, seeing what seems like the whole outline of the huge head pressing out against my skin still trapped behind my relatively small hole. You collapse backward in defeat.

“It’s too big,” you whine as the contraction begins to fade. You’re sure a lot of women feel that way and it turns out fine, but damn does it feel true right now. I look a little concerned, so you pull yourself up, repositioning so that ypu’re on your knees facing me. You take one of your hands and put it back between my legs and position the other over your breast. With a deep breath in then out again, you announce “Guess we better get to work.”

“Next time you need to push, just make ‘mmm’ sounds OK?”

You look skeptical but nod anyway, and soon you start. You pitch rises, and I tell you to keep it slow and steady, focus on the breathing rather than the pushing.

You nod, as my hands do their work. My hand that’s dipped down between your legs is rubbing and softening the skin between them, pressing back against the hard bulge of the head just agonisingly close.

Your head is tucked into my shoulder, one hand steadying yourself against me, the other rubbing slow circles on your breast and nipple knowing how well that was helping before.

A full minute of that contraction passes and I feel some useful movement between your legs.

“Go and do that again” I say as another one picks up. I can see it’s taking all your concentration not to push hard, your hand that is resting on me shaking and passing the vibrations through to me.

“Think you have another one in you?” I ask as that contraction passes, your response practically begs me “Fuck… no, I need to push”

There’s nothing you can do this time as the contraction begins to build, you reach to grab the hand that was playing with your nipple earlier and press it into the mattress with the force of your push.

My hand cupped under you feels success though, your skin seems to peel apart as the head makes its way out of you, the skin rolling back over the head as more and more of it made its way out from inside of you.

“Back at it, quick!” I say as the push ends, and you do so, more of the head seeing fresh air. My hand pressed against your lips slowly moulds the skin back.

You finally relent, the contraction over with, the head now well on its way to a crown. You look into my eyes and can see I almost have tears forming. “You did it babe, you got over this. Might have a full crown in the next contraction.”

You know in your heart you felt everything but need to feel down between your legs to know it was real. You hand scrabbles down and you trace the outline of your opened lips, smiling, clearly approaching exhaustion now.

No time to rest though as another contraction builds.

Your whole hand can fit over the large dome coming out between your legs now—the skin of your vagina stretched in a vertical mountain over the straining head. It sits heavily right at your opening, a slow burn ready to flame to life at the next push. You keep your hand there as the contraction begins to build, feeling how your body squeezes and compresses even before you add any conscious force. You let out a long, slow breath, waiting until the tension grows and intensifies and you absolutely cannot refrain from bearing down with it.

You groan as you finally give into the primal urge, tilting your hips forward and back in time with your pushes, keeping hold of the delicate ring of flesh, alternating between easing it back and releasing it millimeter by millimeter, push after push until a proper crown begins to form.

My hands rub a circular route from my belly to around the curve of your ass, up your thighs, then back again. Suddenly you hold completely still and I follow suit, my hands poised in front of you for whatever you may need. “Mmm,” You moan, the hum echoing through your whole body as you lean forward with your hands pressed into my thighs as you push down, hard. It burns and you let out a strangled whine, but keep pushing. You take a breath and shuffle your knees open wider and push some more. I’m saying something sweet and encouraging, but you’re too focused to really hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you plead again, slumping forward against me as the contraction ends. “Mummy needs you to work with me here.” I tell you to take your time, that there’s no rush, but that’s easy to say when you don’t have a cantaloupe forcing itself out of your body.

“Maybe next one,” I suggest, trying to keep my spirits up.

“Next one,” you agree. It certainly needs to come soon, you’re feeling weary and exhausted with the effort.

Your knees start to hurt again so I help you unfold your legs so that we’re sitting face to face, your spread legs on the outside of mine with me situated in between. I grab a towel and twist it up into a rope, holding one end while offering you to hold the other. “Lean back,” I tell you when the next contraction starts.

“Holy fuck!” you cry, pulling against the towel as your focused on a powerful push and finally feel the head give some more. Your knees instinctually rise so they’re on either side of your belly, and I have a wonderful view of everything that’s happening. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s burning, it’s- babe, fuck!” you’re muttering explicit nonsense in between howls and wails as the intense searing stretch goes beyond whatever you thought possible. Nearly letting go of the towel and the push you suddenly hear me yelling out in my own exhuberant shout.

“It’s crowning!”

Your head snaps up at me, your expression a wonderful mix of joy, wonder, pain, fatigue and probably a dozen other emotions. Your eyes are wide and your mouth lets out a sudden yell - but it doesn’t sound pained as such, more victorious.

As the head reaches its peak, all the burning, searing pain you had been feeling finally relented, your nerves in your skin stretched to their limit and no longer functioning.

Time seemed to stop for you, your brain going a million miles a minute until your focus is back on me yelling at you

“Stop pushing, you’re at your widest, pant it out, please, you didn’t want to tear!”

You follow without thinking, letting out your breath in a slow, slow exhale. It seemed to take forever in that moment of slowed time between us, but suddenly there was a sound that could only be described as a ‘thwack’ as your tightly stretched vagina lips slid back at speed over the baby’s head.

The next moment seemed to take just as long to resolve in my mind.

Firstly jets of amniotic fluid came gushing out from around the head, shooting all the way across to me and coating my chest.

My view was suddenly focused on the back of a head lodged between your legs, said head being slightly cone shaped following its tight passage.

Pools of fluid were still draining out between your legs.

Miraculously you respond first. “Check for a cord” you manage in a croaky voice.

I nod and let go of the towel which you gather up and put to the side of you.

My hands reach down to the baby’s neck and slide down to the gap between it and your lips. I feel nothing caught.

“You’re good, let’s see, I think the head needs to turn now for the shoulders”

I now have a hand under the baby’s head supporting it as I feel you bounce left and right on your ass cheeks as if you’re shifting your weight to either side, the head rotates sideways and I finally get a good glance of the baby’s face.

I look up and once got tears in my eyes as I say to you “baby looks beautiful love.”

You wish you could see it for yourself too, but seeing the love shine through my eyes at our baby’s face is enough for now. You reach down and it’s still surprising that the whole head is outside of your body, that you can trace the outlines of it’s ears, nose, lips and chubby little cheeks. Your eyes well up to match me and I give your belly one last peck before it’s empty again. There’s nothing quite like this feeling, the power and strength of accomplishing such a feat at direct odds with the

softness and vulnerability that comes with being able to really see and touch your child for the first time.

The relief from delivering the head is short-lived as another contraction reminds me that your work is not yet done. The pressure in your stomach is slightly lessened with the release of so much amniotic fluid, but somehow seems to increase in your hips— seems this baby’s got broad shoulders too. You start panting and grip tightly to my forearm, not quite ready to give everything you have into another push just yet. You ride it out, giving low groans through the contraction until the insistent pressure returns and you feel the shoulders nudging at your opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask, alerted to the change in situation by your grip tightening on my arms.

The answer is an easy, “Yes.”

You move your hands to my shoulders to steady yourself and lean into the push. It’s harder than you thought it’d be for your already stretched skin to give way and as a result you let out a determined growl, then release your breath and dive back into another push. I assist with a little tug and that’s all it takes for the shoulders to pop over your tailbone and fill my opening all at once. You scream at the sudden burning stretch, but it only lasts a moment before the rest of the baby slides out quickly and easily on a river of amniotic fluid.

Your senses and emotions are immediately overwhelmed as this little red squalling beautiful thing is placed on your chest. You’re crying and shaking as you cradle it gingerly—it seems so small and vulnerable, and yet those little fists and feet are kicking out angrily at the uncomfortable eviction into this cold, loud, bright world.

“Hi, baby,” you coo wetly, gently patting its back and reaching for me to join us in the moment. I wrap us up in sun-warmed towels and kneel at your side, laughing through tears and peppering kisses all over your face and our baby’s head. You’re so caught up in the moment—the relief and awe and exhaustion and elation—that there’s one thing you missed. You shift the baby’s body a bit and peek under the towel, and the tears renew afresh. “A little boy!” You look back up at me in surprised joy, but I just chuckle—of course I’d already realised that as I lifted the baby up to your chest. “We have a son.” The realization settles over you as comfortably as me arms around your waist, and you have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.

We can’t wait to do this again.

After the brief moment of relief and satisfaction washed over us, I realised we had better call the midwife to make sure everything checked out right with the baby. I pulled out her phone and dialled her number to hear it go off just behind us in the house.

She walked out from the cabin we had rented with a broad smile on her face. I suddenly realised I’d handed her a spare key in case she needed to get in quickly and I couldn’t get away from you.

“You guys did really well. I figured things were hotting up when I heard the screams and moans from outside of my place… had to intervene with some hikers who were heading your way wondering what the commotion was all about. Here…”

She handed us both drinks, as I suddenly realised exactly how late it was. I mentally counted up - I’d been awake 6 hours with you, and no idea about how long you had been up during the night.

You handed off the baby to the midwife who clamped and cut the cord, and handed over the cup as you drank thirstily - all that heavy breathing and yelling had left you parched.

“So… I went to double check because I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be doing this out in the open where any old Tom, Dick or Harry could walk past…”

You grinned, feeling your strength return as you drank the liquid.

“It felt natural to do it in nature” you just said.

“Well… baby gets a good clean bill of health, and I dare say mum has come out all but unscathed too. Well done to both of you”

Another hour or so of paperwork, plenty more postnatal checks, and a complete placenta delivery later, we were laid in bed in the cabin, our small family of three, contemplating what we were going to do for the next week in our cabin.

#fpreg #birth kink #labor kink #birth

[ughgoaway]

ugly sweater party // day 10

content warnings; nothing i think? maybeee swearing but i do not remember <33

a/n; did anyone else have ugly jumper days at school or did I just go to a weird fucking school?? anyway I hope you enjoy this fic!!! (I did not enjoy re-reading it, but when do I ever lol)

word count; 1.8k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

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“Come on in, Jamie! Nice jumper, very ugly!” you say, smiling down at the little boy whose eyes were bright with pride. Normally calling a student's jumper ugly would end in tears and a stern conversation with your boss, but today it's the very best thing they could hear.

Last month, you were sitting in a meeting, ringing your hands together, trying to muster the confidence to suggest the idea of an ugly jumper day to fundraise for cancer research. Somehow, you pulled yourself together enough to say it out loud. You immediately cringed after you said it, prepared to be shot down. But thankfully, you were met with a chorus of support from your colleagues.

As the days passed by, you had more and more excited children coming up to you saying they found their jumpers and couldn't wait to wear them. You even went out and bought some spares, just in case someone forgets.

And so this event became your baby for the next month. You created flyers and handed them out to everyone. Putting them in backpacks and bookbags to ensure they made it home safely.

You even did some secret stalking on the mum-only Facebook page under your alias “Caroline Monroe”, and were over the moon to see mums talking about how much their little ones are enjoying the idea.

And here the day was, each new child coming in had a smile so big it looked as if their cheeks could split. Every parent is praising you for the idea and the organisation of it all, and you couldn't feel more proud. Finally, you’re fitting in and making use of the degree that caused you endless stress. 

But if you were honest, you were waiting for one student in particular. Not that you'd admit that to anyone, or even yourself, really. Every time a new head of hair came bounding in, you did a double take to see if it was the pile of curls you were hoping for.

Unlike how she was usually, Annie was pretty silent about her jumper, not even telling you if she had one or not. So, to say you were suspicious was an understatement. 

9 o'clock drew closer, and you got the sudden fear Annie wasn't in today. But just before the bell could ring, you saw 2 heads full of bouncing curls running into the school gates. And you couldn't help the splitting grin that came over your face.

“Well little miss Annie…” you begin as you bend down, “what an amazing jumper!! It is very ugly!” You scrunch your face as you say it, the words still not feeling normal on your tongue.

If only the daily mail could see him now, you are sure half the articles they pumped out would be scrapped.

Matty Healy in a matching ugly Christmas jumper to his 6-year-old daughter.

Matty catches your eyes and immediately mirrors your grin, and you can't help but snort at the sight of him. He lifts a finger mockingly and wags it at you, imploring you not to laugh. 

“And you match with your daddy!” You say with a teasing lilt to your voice. You shoot your eyes up to Matty, who is already looking down with more disdain than you thought he could muster at 9 a.m.

“Yes.. thank you, miss y/n” Matty says with a joking quality to his words and one hand on his hip, the other holding his daughter's hand. 

You break eye contact and look back to Annie, who is beaming at you, showing off her gappy smile. She giggles and nods excitedly at you before speaking.

“Thank you, miss y/n!!” she says shyly, burrowing into her dad's leg and grinning.

You make a move to stand but are quickly pulled back down by Annie, who clearly has more to say, as always.

“But do you want to know the very best part, miss y/n?” Annie asks like a spy sharing top-secret information. You play it up, nodding and looking around before leaning in. 

“My daddy MADE my jumper!!” she says with a shriek and a laugh. You immediately brighten up and look up at Matty for confirmation, knowing Annie can… exaggerate at times. 

Matty looks down at his daughter with so much love in that moment you're sure you can feel your heart grow 3 times the size. The pure adoration in his eyes neatly made you need to sit down, but you managed to stay steady on your feet.

Eventually, you gathered the strength to rise to Matty's height and make eye contact with him, and it's then you knew Annie was telling the truth.

Dark circles sat below his eyes, which were also slightly sunken but somehow remained bright. He had clearly been up late working on making these, the thought of which made you dizzy. 

Matty saw the questioning look on your face and began to explain, “My mum loves to knit, and she saw the flyer for today last time she was down. She was very insistent Annie had to have a homemade ugly jumper” he finished his sentence by stroking the top of his daughters head, curling a ringlet of her hair around his finger. 

He continued to fiddle with Annie's hair as he spoke, “I conceded it could be homemade but…” he paused slightly embarrassed of what he was about to say, “I wanted to make it for her, you know? I wanted to do something for my little girl.”

Your silence made Matty nervous, so he began to ramble in the way he does when he feels his heart in his throat, “I know, I know. What an over-the-top dad, but I just can't help myself when it comes to my little peanut.” he smiles bashfully, and Annie giggles at his nickname for her.

Oh god. Those words combined with the shy look on his face caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, crashing against your sides in a way that almost hurt. But you shook it off, refusing to admit you could feel this way for a parent.

You were professional, and having feelings was not. So you didn't have feelings… definitely have no feelings here! Nope!

“How- how did you make it? Do you knit?” You manage to stutter out after standing in shocked silence for much longer than socially acceptable. An apprehensive look passed over Matty's face briefly, but he quickly shook it off. 

“Uhh I managed to convince Mum to teach me. so she made mine, and I just copied her and made Annie's. Same pattern, just smaller! We Facetimed and worked alongside each other. I struggled at the start, but it turns out as long as I listen to Radiohead whilst I knit, it turns out pretty good!” he grabbed his daughter and spun her around in a flourish, showing off his hard work. A roar of laughter escaped Annie as she spun, obviously entertained by her dad's endless antics.

God, this having no feelings thing is getting harder and harder. Especially when staring into his eyes as his adorable daughter's cackles filled the air. Normally brown eyes are boring but not his. His had something in them that captured your attention, some inexplicable force that dragged you deeper and deeper.

Soon, Annie was desperately asking her dad if she could go show her friends her jumper, and he agreed and bent down. He gave her a brief kiss on the temple and sent her off with a pat on her back and a wave.

Matty once again felt slightly awkward at your silence, wondering if he had said something wrong. Little did he know it was quite the opposite. 

He waved at you and began to walk away, but your brain caught up, and you shouted after him. “Matty!” You say jogging towards him and meeting in the middle of the playground.

Shit. You had forgotten about that. Quickly you decide you're just gonna ignore that and keep rambling, just as Matty would, you're sure.

“Sorry! I'm a bit groggy this morning. I haven't had my coffee yet” You try to excuse your odd behaviour, but Matty shoots you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you.

His eyes shift from yours to the coffee cup in your left hand.

“I just wanted to say that you making Annie's jumper is so thoughtful and sweet” You start to bring your hand up and briefly pause, but then think 'fuck it'. 

You put your hand on his upper arm and somehow resist the urge to squeeze and feel his arm tense.

“Really, not many parents would do something so amazing for the kids. Thank you,” you say earnestly, not moving your hand and staring at Matty intensely.

Little did you know Matty's brain was short-circuiting. Your hand on his arm was the only thing he could focus on. The warmth he felt through his jumper, the slight grip you had on him. He even got lost in staring at your nail polish, red and green for Christmas. 

He felt sick with want the second he felt your touch. Trying to focus on any words coming out of your mouth at the same time you were touching him felt like a herculean task.

He somehow managed to catch the end of what you were saying, just enough to attempt a normal human response.

He internally psyched himself up before speaking, desperate to play it off cool and natural.

“Thanks, I just love her so much.” he said earnestly, but he couldn't be sincere for too long, “and it's not like I have a real job to go to, right? I just dick around with a guitar for a few hours!” he laughs.

“Ah- its- yeah- im-” he stammered.

Well, that's not a great start, is it? He scorned his brain for not catching up to his mouth in time. However, he eventually got them back in sync. 

You smile and giggle at his comment, but you know the real sentiment behind it. You squeeze his arm one last time before removing your hand and beginning to walk away. 

Both you and Matty wave to one another before turning around and walking in opposite directions. You fought the urge to turn around to get one last look, little did you know - Matty was fighting the same urge.

Whilst you won that battle, Matty didn't. He flicked his head around briefly, just long enough to see your bright smile as you greeted another student. Just long enough to feel his heart stutter one more time.

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au! #this migbt be incoherent #lemme know besties <3

[jpmarvel90]

Don't let me down - Part 9

Y/n's POV:

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Whilst Y/n tries to distract herself from the impending court case with Mr Woodstock. She ends up having to face another hurdle she wasn't expecting.

Word count: 6993

Trying to focus on my schoolwork and soccer has been really hard since Danny came around and dropped the bomb that I'm likely going to have to testify against Mr Woodstock. Scarlett and Colin have been great and are supporting me more than I could ask. They're not pushing me, but they are there when I have my moments. I'm glad that I have them to go through this with.

When I told Laura, I've never seen her more angry. She started ranting about how unfair it is to make, not just me, but the other kids have to relive what we went through. She's spent a lot of time with me after school and I'm sure that her and Scarlett have been texting about me. Part of me is a little annoyed as I feel like I'm being watched, but then I'm grateful they care about me enough to check in with each other.

We had a meeting with the DA who is leading the case and he has confirmed that I will be asked a number of questions by himself and then the defence lawyer will have a chance to also question me. The thought of that terrifies me as I know that they are just going to try and prove me wrong or discredit my testimony. I've seen enough Law & Order SUV to know how it goes.

However, both Danny and the DA have assured me that they'll coach me in responding to the questions. I'll already know what they plan to ask me, so I'll be prepared from that point of view. However, we'll have no idea what the defence may say. So, we're going to do some sessions together where they'll prepare me as best they can.

Scarlett has tried to suggest that I do it via video link to give me an extra layer of protection, but I know that I want to be there. I can't bring my parents to justice for the years I spent being abused by them, but I can to Mr Woodstock. It's not just me he hurt and if I had the balls to do this earlier, I could have stopped the other kids getting hurt too.

When we left the DA's office, I felt dread over the upcoming court case. We have a month to prepare before I'll need to testify. Thankfully, I don't need to be there for anything else. It's one day and then hopefully they'll find him guilty, and I'll be able to move on and put my past firmly behind me. Allow me to focus on how my life is going to be better moving forward.

The sessions with Danny have been ok. He's predicted what he believes the defence may ask and then poses the question to me. We then work on how I can approach different elements. He also helps me to control my emotions and focus on breathing. Taking a breather is not a bad thing and will only reflect badly on the defence lawyer if he tries to move me on.

I think the sessions are helping, but I feel drained after every one. I cry in each one and I hate it. Reliving what happened is bad enough, but having to prepare to defend that I'm telling the truth is horrible. I just hope that this is all worth it.

Thankfully, we have our next soccer games this week and it's providing me with something to focus on. It's still hard to give me full attention, but I owe it to the team to still be the best player and captain that I can be. This week, Lizzie is joining Scarlett and Rose to watch. Unfortunately, Colin is working today so can't make it. Scarlett decided to leave Cosmo with Melanie so the three of them can enjoy the afternoon before coming to school to watch the game.

We're so far unbeaten this season. We had two preseason games that gave us a good platform to work from. But we've only play 5 league games. We're playing well and hopefully we'll be able to make it into the playoffs at the end of the year. But today's game will be the biggest test that we've had yet. Rochford High are a tough team and they are aggressive.

I use the warmup to get my mind completely on the game and make sure that I don't let it drift off to everything that is happening in my personal life. Laura is great at keeping me smiling as she jokes around, and we make sure our pre-game warm up doesn't change even though we're playing a tough team.

As we're taking on water, my eyes scan the bleachers, which are bursting tonight. It's like the whole local town has turned up. My eyes quickly land on my little sister who is jumping up and down and waving at me when she sees me looking. I wave back and pull a face at her whilst Lizzie and Scarlett wave to me also.

It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to see them in the stands. I never thought I would have people here to support me. Scarlett has been to every one of my home games. She even rearranged work to come to the one of them. It makes me feel wanted and loved and it's a strange feeling for me. But I like it and I couldn't be more grateful to see them in the crowd.

Coach Saunders calls us into a huddle and gives us an inspiring team talk. I gulp when I have to follow him up, but I make sure to be confident and re-enforce our teamwork and we win together and lose together. With our huddle over, I make my way over to the referee for the coin toss. I shake their captain's hand and internally fist pump when we win the coin toss. I decide to kick off first and we take our places on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

The game is frantic from the first whistle. As expected, they play hard and are hitting us off the ball a lot. We change our tactic to have quick and accurate passing, which works and starts to frustrate them. They end up fouling us a lot more and the ref warns them about their actions.

We take advantage of this when Laura is on the receiving end of a beautiful freekick from Bella. Even though she's tasselling with the defender, she's able to get up higher than her and her head meets the ball. I watch as it flies past the keeper and into the back of the net.

The crowd go wild as we rush around Laura and Bella, cheering the perfect set piece. "I'm proud of you babe." I tell her as we walk back to our side of the pitch for the restart, my arm draped over her shoulder. "I need to keep impressing you." She smirks, nudging me. "Consider me impressed." I return, moving to take my spot.

We manage to dominate the first half but don't get any more goals. We've been able to adapt our play to make their efforts ineffective. We can see that it's just frustrating them more and that carries on into the second half. We're getting so many shots on goal but we're just not getting it in the net.

They manage to catch us on the counterattack, and I rush back to provide support in defence, with a well time sliding tackle I dispossess their striker as she's about to take her shot on goal. I quickly jump to my feet and sprint down the pitch to get myself into an open position.

Seeing I'm in open space, I call for the ball and trap it with my foot. Looking up I see it's just me against two defenders, my team still getting back into position from the counterattack. Not wasting anytime, I take on the first defender, getting around her with ease.

I look up hoping to see someone in the box, but I'm still the furthest up the field. With a swift nudge to the ball, I megs the final defender and run around her, despite her efforts to stop me getting to the ball. Just as she tugs my t-shirt, I manage to get a good connection with the ball and watch as it sails into the top corner. Though I'm now on the floor as a result of the shirt tug.

This doesn't stop the team celebrating with me, bundling on me on the floor. With our celebration over, Laura holds her hand out to me to help me back to my feet. "You just had to one up me didn't you." She teases. "Maybe I want to impress you too." I wink at her as she shakes her head at my antics. As I'm moving back for the restart, I look to the crown and wave to Rose who's still cheering. She really is my biggest fan, and she looks adorable in our team jersey.

With our energy up, we just seem to get better. With our third goal, the pressure seems to disappear and we're playing more freely. When we win a freekick near the corner flag, I'm on the hunt for a second goal. I'm stood on the edge of the box and hold my hands in the air to indicate the play we should go for.

As the ball is crossed into the box, I run in and go to jump to try and get my head on the ball. Their defender goes up with me, but I see her elbow wind back as she jumps. She's not looking at the ball and I'm helpless as I watch her elbow move towards my face. For a split second I feel pain as she makes a connection, but it soon disappears as I fade into darkness.

Scarlett's POV:

This is the best that I've seen the team play. They're working as a cohesive group and seem to be able to counter anything the other team throw at them. I'm so proud when Y/n scores and the three of us cheer along with the rest of the crowd as the team celebrate.

Y/n had talked about how difficult this game was going to be. The opposition are probably one of the only teams that can match their ability, but they just don't seem to be able to break the team down. Instead of regrouping they're just getting more frustrated.

It's great seeing the smile on Y/n's face. I've not seen her smile like that in a while since we learnt about the court case. Soccer has always brought her happiness and I'm glad it's giving her an outlet today.

The team get ready for another freekick, and it seems certain that it's only a matter of time before they score again. My eyes are on my daughter as the anticipation builds. However, when I see an elbow collide with her face, I'm instantly out of my seat shouting for a foul.

However, I instantly freeze when I see Y/n on the floor not moving, her leg bent in an awkward angle. "Lizzie, watch Rose." I call out as I rush down the stairs of the bleachers and jump over the railing. Coach Saunders sees me and waves me over as he's knelt down next to my unconscious daughter.

As I reach her, I can hear the team arguing with the ref and a couple of them scuffling with the other team, mainly the defender that hit her. "Is she ok?" I ask, panic filling my voice as I kneel down next to her. Laura on one side holding her hand tightly. My eyes look over her and I see blood on her face from her nose. My eyes then move down to her leg, and I have to fight back tears. "She fell awkwardly and landed on her leg as she didn't have control over her body." Coach Saunders explains, moving so I can get in closer.

Fear overrides me as I'm desperate for my daughter to wake up. "We've called 911 and they should be here shortly." One of the assistant coaches calls out. "Y/n baby, wake up for me please." I beg her, my hands gently cupping her face. "Come on sweetheart." I encourage her, hoping that she might start to stir. My eyes flick to Laura who's watching on with teary eyes.

I move my hand and place it over hers that is already holding Y/n's. "She's going to be ok right?" Laura asks, looking up to me hopefully. "Of course she is. She's strong." I reassure her, though I'm scared myself. Thankfully, we don't have to wait for long for the ambulance to arrive and almost simultaneously, Y/n starts to stir awake. "Y/n, sweetie. It's Scarlett are you ok?" I ask her as her eyes fill with fear. "Mom?" She whispers, making my heart clench at the name. I don't let it get to me and focus on her. "I'm here baby. You're ok. The paramedics are here." I tell her and she nods.

She obviously starts to feel the pain and she starts to cry out. "It's ok babe. You're going to be fine. They'll get you some good stuff soon." Laura tries to joke through her own tears. The paramedics soon join us, and we reluctantly have to move out of the way as they treat her.

I take a moment to breathe and notice the referee brandish a red card to the defender that hit her. I have to fight from going over to the kid and giving her a piece of my mind. But I have to remember she is just that. A kid. "Mommy! Is Y/n, ok?" Rose calls out to me. I glance to Y/n and see she's being looked after and right now I need to comfort my other daughter.

I walk over to her and pick her up instantly. "She's hurt, but she's being looked after. She's going to have to go the hospital, but she'll be ok." I reassure her as she nods in my neck. "I can take Rose home whilst you're with Y/n." Lizzie offers but Rose instantly argues with that idea. "I don't want to leave Y/n. Please!" She begs. "I can bring her to the hospital?" Lizzie offers and I think for a moment. "You have to understand that it's going to be boring." I explain to Rose, and she nods. "I want to be there to protect Y/n." She responds, making my heart warm at her cuteness.

"How about we go home and grab some things for you both and then we'll come to the hospital." Lizzie suggests. "If you wouldn't mind that would be great." I agree, looking back towards Y/n. "Go, text me where you are, and we'll see you later." Lizzie says when she sees my concern. "Thank you, Lizzie. I love you Rose, and we'll see you later." I say before rushing back to be with Y/n.

They're currently giving her some gas and air when I return, and the paramedic looks to me. "Are you mom?" She asks and I nod. "We're just stabilising her leg and then we'll get her to the hospital. They'll assess her there and give her some additional pain relief." She explains and I nod along, my eyes fixated on Y/n.

Seeing where my eyes are the paramedic continues to reassure me. "This may look scary at the moment, but we need to also to stabilise her head just in case there are any injuries to her neck. We're making sure we take every precaution to prevent further injury." I continue to nod along. Understanding why they're doing what they're doing. It just doesn't make it any easier to watch.

I take my place next to Y/n and provide her any comfort I can whilst she is being seen too. "Can I come with you?" Laura asks, looking from Y/n to me. "No." Y/n jumps in taking Laura by surprise, her eyes showing the hurt. "You need to finish the game." Y/n clarifies. "But..." Laura goes to defend but Y/n cuts her off. "I'll still be broken when the game is over. I'm ok and not going anywhere. Quite literally." She jokes, making us both chuckle. "Please, you need to make sure we win this game and then you can come and see me." She requests. Laura reluctantly agrees but doesn't leave her side until she's guided on to the gurney and moved toward the ambulance. "I'll keep you updated." I promise Laura who nods, reluctant to let go. "I'll see you shortly babe." She smiles, placing a gentle kiss on Y/n's lips, who gives a giddy smile.

I climb in the back of the ambulance and take a seat next to Y/n, reaching out to hold her hand. The paramedics get in and we start on our journey to the hospital. "It hurts mom." Y/n looks to me, tears in her eyes. My heart skips a beat again when she calls me mom. "I know. I'm sorry you're hurt. But I'm here for you." I try to comfort her. "The doctors will be able to get you some morphine when you're in the ER." The paramedic tells Y/n, which seems to appease her for now.

Thankfully, it's not long until we're at the hospital and we're being taking through to the ER where a doctor and some nurses are waiting for us. The potential injury to her neck is their biggest concern right now and they want to confirm there isn't any further injury before properly addressing her leg.

I stand to the side feeling completely helpless as I watch the doctors and nurses move around Y/n, calling out stats and information as they go. The whimpers from Y/n make my heart break. I wish I could take the pain away from here. "Let's get a canula set up and we'll get some pain relief." One of the doctors orders.

Thankfully, the morphine seems to start working quite quickly and Y/n's whimpers start to peter out as the medicine does its job. "Mrs Johansson?" The call of my name tears my eyes away from my daughter and to the doctor who is stood next to me with a kind smile on his face. "Hi, I'm Dr Greenwood. I'm the primary physician for your daughter." He greets me. "On initial examination, it's clear that Y/n has a broken leg and potentially a facial fracture too. We're confident there is no damage to her neck, but we want to be sure before removing the brace. So, we'll be sending her down for some x-rays and scans so we can get a full assessment of her injuries." He explains and I nod along.

"We've given her pain relief and that seems to be working and she's much more comfortable now. I know it's hard to see your kid in pain, but I can assure you we're doing everything that we can to make sure she is comfortable." He assures me, making smile. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you're doing." I respond. "I can get one of the nurses to show you to a private waiting room whilst Y/n is taken for imagery, and we'll come and get you as soon as she's settled in a room." He offers. "Can I see her first?" I request. "Of course. We're just waiting for the porters now." He responds and moves out of the way for me to see Y/n.

The madness around her has died down now and she's just got a couple of nurses monitoring different things. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?" I ask Y/n as I take her hand and gently run my hands through her hair. "Tired and sore." She responds with a croaky voice. Her eye is already starting to swell and bruise, a reminder of the harsh act that led to her being in the hospital. "They're going to take you to get some scans of your leg and neck in a minute. I'll be waiting for you to come back." I explain. "Does that mean I can get this thing off?" She asks, tugging a little at the neck brace. "As long as the scans come back clear you'll be free of the prison." I respond with a smirk, happy that there is a smile on her face.

"We're ready to take her now." One of the nurses tells us. "I'll be right here waiting. I love you ok." I tell her firmly. "I love you too." She responds, taking me by surprise. I don't think she's ever said that to me before. It causes a tear to fall down my cheek as I smile at her lovingly. "Mom, you've got to let me go." She chuckles, just adding to my happiness. I try not to think to much of it, before she was in pain and now, she's on drugs. When she's more with it, we may be going back to Scarlett, but I'll take it for now!

I watch as they roll Y/n away down the corridor, taking a deep breath. I'm then guided to a private waiting room, which I'm very grateful for. I'd rather this not be how news of Y/n gets out. I want it to be on our terms and when she's comfortable. I quickly text Lizzie an update and she confirms they're packing a bag for Y/n as it's likely she'll be in overnight.

Now I just need to call my husband. He's at work today preparing for filming tonight. I hesitate in calling him, but I know that he'd want to be told that she was in the hospital. I hit his contact name and wait for him to answer.

Colin: Hi babe. How was the game? Did they win?

He asks instantly, excitement in his voice. I love how invested he is in Y/n's soccer games.

Scarlett: Uh I'm not actually sure. Y/n got hurt during the game and we're currently at the hospital.

Colin: WHAT?! Is she ok? What happened? How badly is she hurt?

He rambles down the phone, panic lacing his voice.

Scarlett: She was elbowed in the face by a defender when she jumped to head a ball. It knocked her out and as she fell, she landed on her leg awkwardly.

Colin: Oh my God. Was it deliberate? Actually, never mind. I'm leaving work now and I'm coming to the hospital. What did the doctor say?

Scarlett: Col, you don't need to do that. Y/n understands you're working and she's doing ok? She's currently having scans to see how badly her leg is broken and to rule out a neck injury.

Colin: Of course, I'm coming. She's my daughter. Family always comes first, you know that.

I smile down the phone when he refers to Y/n as his daughter. He did it so easily. I really need to bring up the whole adoption thing again. I don't think I can go much longer without having her legal be my daughter. I want her to know that she has a loving mom and dad who will be there for her no matter what.

As he's on the phone I can hear him explaining the situation to someone, I'm assuming the director, who easily agrees for him to leave. He then starts to rush around to get to the car.

Colin: "Ok. I'm about to drive. I'll see you in about 30 minutes. I love you.

Scarlett: I love you too. Drive safely.

And with that he hangs up. I wait nervously to hear that Y/n is back. I'm still worried she's going to have further damage to her neck. I know they said they don't think there is anything to untoward about it, but I can't get the worrying sick feeling out of my stomach.

"Mrs Johansson?" I look up and see Laura waiting hesitantly in the doorway. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Scarlett." I smile at her, opening my arms to her. She instantly moves forward and melts into my hug. "How is she?" She questions as we move to sit. I fill her in on everything the doctor said, and she listens intently.

"Do you know how hard it was not to go and punch that bitch in the face." She fumes after I explain the extent of her injuries. "I probably shouldn't admit this as the adult in this situation, but I feel the same." I admit to chuckles. "Did you win?" I ask and a smile grows on her face. "We scored two more goals. It was 4-0 in the end." She responds proudly. "Y/n will be happy." I say and Laura nods. "Turns out playing for a teammate helped us to play even better. We wanted to do our best for our captain." She explains.

Not too long later, Colin comes bursting through the door, giving both Laura and I a heart attack. "Jeeze Colin!" I scold, my hand clutching my chest as my racing heart starts to calm. "S-sorry. I was just worried." He apologises. "How is she?" He asks. "We've not heard anything more since I called you. They said it could be a little while whilst she has the different scans and x-rays." I reply.

"Where's Rose?" Colin asks when he notices it's just me and Laura in the waiting room. "With Lizzie. They're getting a bag together, so Y/n has some things with her. Rose is adamant about being here for her big sister." I explain, earning an aw from Laura. "I can ask your mom to come and collect her later and keep the kids over night until we know more." Colin suggests. "I think that'll be wise. Rose can see how Y/n is doing and head to mom's before bedtime." I agree.

Colin places a kiss to my head and moves to the other side of the room to call my mom and explain what has happened. She already has Cosmo today, so she's happy to take Rose too. Though she's concerned for her granddaughter too. I think Y/n is going to be spoilt when she's home.

When Colin joins us again, he takes the seat next to me and wraps a supportive arm around me. I move to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his comfort. "She called me mom." I say quietly. "What was that?" Colin asks. "She called me mom. When she was on the field, she called me mom and then again in the ambulance and here in the hospital." I explain in more detail. "I'm sure it's just because she's in pain and on drugs but hearing her call me that, it made my heart almost burst." I share, my emotions building once again.

"She means it." Laura speaks up from beside me. Both Colin and I turn to look at her. "Yes, she's in pain and high right now. But she means it. This has just given her the outlet to be able to say it. You've given her a safe and loving environment. Yes, it's taken her a while to be able get to this point. But you never pushed her. I don't think you realise how much that means to her." She explains with a soft smile on her face.

"All I have wanted is to be the mother she deserves. I never thought that she would forgive me, let alone get to a point she could call me mom." I admit, tears welling up in my eyes. "Family of Miss Y/l/n?" A nurse enters the room and calls for us. The sound of Y/n's surname bringing me down for a moment. "You need to work on changing her name." Laura smirks at me as we stand and follow the nurse.

She takes us to a private ward where Y/n is laid in bed, her neck brace off. I breath a sigh of relief knowing there is no injury there. Laura rushes in first and carefully hugs Y/n, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I'm so glad you're ok. It was horrible seeing you out cold." She tells her, cupping her cheeks and gently rubbing her thumb over her cheek. "Did you win?" Y/n asks, making us laugh. "I see you have your priorities right." Laura chuckles. "And yes, we won 4-0." She adds on. "See you don't need me on the team." Y/n responds with a sad smile.

We all get comfortable and wait for the doctor to come in and tell us the severity of Y/n's injury. Laura sits on one side, holding Y/n's hand tightly, whilst Colin and I flank her on the other side. "Aren't you filming tonight?" Y/n asks Colin. "Not anymore, I have to been here for my daughter." He responds, his words causing a wide smile to appear on Y/n's face. "Thanks dad." Y/n responds, her eyes glossed over. "D-did you. Did you just..." Colin stutters in shock. Y/n nods, smiling nervously. "I hope you both don't mind me calling your mom and dad. My experience of parents hasn't a good one. I don't really know what a good mom and dad looks like. But I'm pretty sure it's the both of you. I've not been easy yet you've both been there for me, supporting me and loving me. Especially these last couple of weeks with the court case. To me you are my mom and dad." Y/n shares, making both Colin and I cry.

"Oh, my sweet girl. I have been waiting, hoping, you may one day see me as your mother. Hearing you call me mom, it's everything I could ask for." I reassure her as I hug her gently, placing a kiss to her head. Y/n then looks to Colin who's a blubbering mess, making us all laugh. "Like I said, I've seen you as my daughter from the beginning. Being your dad is an honour I'm glad you've allowed me to have." He expresses, getting up and hugging her also.

A clearing of a voice gets all of our attention, and our heads snap to see the doctor in the doorway a file in his hand. "Sorry to interrupt this moment, but I have Y/n's results." He explains. "Please come on in." Colin composes himself and moves back to his seat as the doctor enters the room.

"Ok, Y/n, having examined your scans, I'm happy to say there is no injury to your neck. Though you probably know that as we removed your brace." He starts off. "However, you do have a fractured eye socket, so that is going to look pretty nasty for a few weeks. There's not much we can do other than provide you pain relief and wait for it to heal." He explains and Y/n nods in understanding.

"Now, on to your leg." I feel Y/n's hand tense in my own as we wait to hear the damage. "You have a displaced transverse fracture to your tibia. This means that it's a complete break of the bone and the two parts are not aligned. In this instance, we will need to surgically realign your leg and put in some pins to secure the fracture, allowing it to heal effectively." The doctor explains, showing us the x-rays of Y/n's clearly broken leg.

Y/n's breath hitches at the news, tears filling her eyes. "Will I be able to play soccer again?" She asks, fear lacing her voice. At the vocalisation of her worries, Laura sits forward and holds her other hand tightly. "I have every confidence that with a successful surgery and physio, you'll be playing again." He responds with a smile. Y/n's whole body relaxes at the confirmation, but I know there is still one question on her mind. "How long until I can play again?" She asks him.

"You'll be in a cast for about 6 weeks and from there you'll start physio. I would guess that you could be back into light training within 8 weeks and playing within 10." He replies. "Wow, that's a long time." Y/n whispers, her head dropping. "You'd be back in time for playoffs." Laura tries to comfort her. "And we'll still need our captain. You're more than the player on the pitch Y/n." Laura reassures her, placing a kiss to her hand. She nods unsurely before the doctor goes into more detail about surgery and recovery.

She'll be going in for surgery in the morning as it's already late this evening. She has a temporary brace on her leg which will stop any more damage happening before they're able to surgically fix her leg. We thank the doctor who leaves us to it. "How are you feeling kiddo?" Colin asks, placing a hand on her uninjured leg. "10 weeks is a long time." She replies emotionlessly.

Soccer has been her saving grace these last two years. It's been an outlet whilst she's been going through so much, and it's suddenly taken away from her. I just hope that now she has a stable home, a loving girlfriend and family, that she won't lose herself.

A knock on the door gains our attention as we all giggle as we see Rose on her tiptoes trying to look through the window. I wave them in and Rose rushes to her sister's side. "Sissy! Are you ok?" Rose asks worriedly, trying to climb up onto the bed. Y/n leans forward to pick her up, but I tap her hand away and do it for her.

Rose is really careful as she sits next to Y/n staring at her now closed up eye. "I'm much better now my sister is here." She responds happily, a smile plastered on her face to hide her pain. "Auntie Lizzie told me that we can't bring your flowers, so I brought you chocolate instead. It's you're favourite." Rose shares, turning to Lizzie holding her hand out expectantly.

Lizzie chuckles and pulls out the chocolate bar from her bag and hands it's to Rose. "Yummy. Thank you, Rosie." Y/n responds, placing a kiss to her head. "That girl was mean. I hope she got told off and grounded for hurting you." Rose huffs snuggling into her sister. "Well, she was sent off and I can't imagine she'll get away without the ban being extended." Laura explains with an angry look on her face. I notice that Y/n reaches out and squeezes her hand in comfort, instantly calming down her fuming girlfriend.

"When can you come home?" Rose now asks as Lizzie makes herself comfortable. "We're not sure yet sweetie. Y/n has to have surgery tomorrow so probably a couple of nights." I explain, making Rose pout. "But I have school tomorrow." She complains. "That's ok Rosie. When I'm home we can have a movie day. Mom, dad, and Cosmo could join us too. What do you think?" Y/n suggests to help placate the 7 year old. "Can Laura come too?" Rose asks shyly. "Of course!" Y/n replies happily.

Lizzie's eyes go wide when she hears what Y/n called us as both Colin and I smile. Lizzie looks to me and I nod to confirm she heard correctly. "I'm happy for you." She mouths to me, not wanting to disturb the kids who are rambling about what movies to watch.

We spend the evening together, chatting and laughing. It's really nice, considering we're sat in a hospital room with my injured daughter laid up in bed. But as it hits 8pm, the nurse comes in and tells us that visiting hours are over. "Are you sure you're going to be ok on your own?" I ask Y/n, worried to leave her. "I can always talk to them about letting me stay." I offer but she shakes her head. "I'll be ok mom. I'm pretty tired so I'll probably get some sleep." She reassures me. "Ok, I'll have my phone on loud so if you need anything, just call or text ok. I can be here in 20 minutes." I tell her and she nods.

I bid her goodnight, leaving a soft kiss to her head, reminding her how much I love her. Colin does the same before picking up a sleepy Rose. We leave Y/n and Laura to have a moment before we all leave together. "Do you want me to drop Rose at your moms?" Lizzie offers, but I shake my head. "Thanks, but we'll go. I'd like to see Cosmo." I respond and she nods. "How about I drive you home. That way this lot can get back." Lizzie suggests turning to Laura.

She blushes at the attention making me smirk. She's totally fangirling right now! "Oh, you don't need to do that Ms Olsen." She declines. "Don't me stupid, come on. Besides it gives me a chance to get to know my niece's girlfriend." Lizzie insists, making Laura gulp a little. "Oh, and don't call me Ms Olsen. I'm not old. Please just call me Lizzie." She adds on, earning a slow nod from the teenager. We all walk out to the car park together and say our goodbyes before heading home.

__________

The next morning, Colin and I are at the hospital as soon as we're allowed so we can be with Y/n before she heads into surgery. She's in a lot of pain this morning and had a bad night sleep, which is horrible to see. I think she's grateful that she's going to be unconscious for a few hours whilst they fix her leg.

The surgeon comes in and talks through the procedure, though most of it goes over my head. I'm just grateful that it seems to be helping Y/n. The nurses are then in to prepare her before we walk with them as they wheel her to the operating floor. "We'll be right here when you wake. Rose and Laura will be here after school too, so you've got that to look forward to." I tell Y/n, hoping to comfort her when I see worry in her eyes. "We both love you very much. Everything is going to be just fine." Colin says, pressing a kiss to Y/n's head. "I love you both too. See you in a few hours." She smiles. I hold her close one last time and watch as they take her away. Colin wraps his arm around me to comfort me as we begin waiting for her to return.

Instead of waiting around in a cold room, we head to the cafeteria and have some breakfast. We both skipped it this morning, worried about Y/n. We talk about what we can do to make things easier for Y/n when she gets home. She's going to be reliant on us for a while and I want everything to be as easy as possible for her.

"Shit, we need to call Danny?" I suddenly say. "Why? You're not planning on suing the kid are you?" Colin jokes, making me roll my eyes. "No. But it's the court case in 9 days." I point out and he lets out a quiet "oh." I know she'll still be able to testify, but she's not exactly going to be very mobile and it's just something else to add on to a stressful period for her. "Danny will know what to do. He's always got Y/n's interests at heart. I'll call him when Y/n is out of surgery, and we'll leave him to deal with anything that needs doing." Colin reassures me.

After about three hours, we move back to Y/n's room to wait. They said surgery will be around 4 hours, and I we don't want to miss her coming back. We settle in and I makes sure her pyjamas are out as I know she'll want to change as soon as she can.

Half an our later a nurse comes by to say that surgery went well and she's just in post op now before they bring her back. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that everything is ok. We can focus on recovery.

Colin and I both crowd around Y/n when they bring her back in. She's still unconscious but the doctor said she should wake shortly. We take our seats either side of our daughter, holding her hands and taking comfort that she's back with us. When she starts to stir, I move to gently run my hands through her hair. "M-mom." She stutters at a whisper. "I'm here sweetheart. Colin is too." I greet her as her eyes flutter open.

I give her the biggest smile I can which she tries to return. Her head then flops to the side to see Colin. "Hey kiddo. Glad you're awake." Colin smiles to her. "Hi dad." She returns. I don't think either Colin or I are going to get used to that, but I will love hearing it every time. I will never take for granted any of my kids calling me mom.

The doctor comes in when Y/n is more with it, confirming that surgery went really well and that he's confident of a full and complete recovery. This relaxes Y/n and I notice that she's become determined to get fit so she can be ready for playoffs when they come around.

That afternoon Laura and Rose come to visit. Laura kindly picked Rose up from school for us. Mom is going to bring Cosmo around dinner time so we can have some family time together. But thankfully, the doctor confirmed that Y/n can come home with us tomorrow. I'm grateful that she won't be in this hospital for longer. I want my daughter home with us so we can all look after her. She's got a stressful few weeks ahead and we want to be by her side, supporting her, through all of it.

Part 10

#scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson #celebrity fanfic #celebrity fanfiction

[valeriefauxnom]

Dev's (C)Leo Biases,

Or,

A Comprehensive History of How Leonidas Became Nearly Everyone's Object of Thirst

So, among the Dragalia Lost team, it was rather well known that they admitted to a strong Cleo bias.

It's pretty easy to see, in anything from Cleo's early spate of alts, like Dragonyule and Summer in quick succession, to the utterly random unique outfits they flaunted in ch.9 that you can just tell they drew for funsies but really liked them and wanted to put them in the game despite it serving no real purpose...

The dev team just really, really loved Cleo and drawing her. But after they apparently used up their Cleo allowance to make Gala Cleo probably the single strongest character in the game at the time, they cooled it down a bit.

However, as much as they were apparently thirsting over Cleo, I would joke that somewhere along the way, some part of the dev team, feeling desperate now that the yearly Cleo Allowance was running dry as they prepared to release Gala Cleo, decided to find a new fixation to quench their addiction.

And since Cleo was off-limits, they turned to the next best thing: crossing out the C in Cleo to find their newest substitute Dev Thirst character.

That's right, we're talking about the one and only Leonidas.

Leonidas had kinda just melded into the background with the rest of the siblings at this point to my observations. Sure, he was a campaign antagonist. People weren't particularly clamoring for him in particular over the other siblings, though. Honestly, I'd wager Emile was more popular at this stage, even in a 'love to hate' sense, just because we'd already seen him so much.

But then, it started. Whether it was art like this being posted on their twitter just a few scant months before G!Cleo's debut...

...They just seemed to have a certain edge in artworks featuring Mr. Curry in a way to make one squint and tilt your head sideways.

For instance:

It's one of those cases where you just kinda get a feeling the artist(s) found x attractive in a way that simultaneously still can give you a moment of self-doubt if that's not just you projecting because there's no blatantly obvious signs, you know? Whether it's something about the posing, or angles, whatever it is, I got this air increasingly whenever they put out any Leonidas art.

Thankfully, they decided to put me out of my misery and just flat out make what's likely the single most suggestive wyrmprint (or honestly art piece in general since Dragalia was thankfully very very very tame) starring none other than, you guessed it, Leonidas.

(Secret Cygames/Nintendo conversation, probably: "As you can see, it's vitally important that we draw this character in a speedo with sparkles around him." Nintendo: "...I'll allow it. This time.")

Even if he puts on some more clothes in the refined version, we're still back to that air I mentioned, as the shot focuses almost entirely on him instead of the wildly popular Chelle or his pet panther (which, yes, seemed to be an actual pet of his):

Even the Ilia-damned funny chibi comics got in on this thirst train as it went on and made quite possibly the raunchiest joke in the entire 400+ comic run featuring Leonidas, even if the exact same joke didn't make the translation overseas, however they tried. You can see a brief breakdown of that in THIS post.

Not content to restrict it to art and comics, Leonidas also dropped this line that is permanently engraved into my mind with just how shocking it was to see anything of this caliber in Dragalia, in his baby brother's story to boot!

At this point, I could no longer deny it: the devs and artists had collectively acquired a new fixation to satiate their once insatiable Cleo appetite in the form of Mr. Currymeister. (Don't worry about Emile there, he's just drowning, he does that all the time in waist-high water)

And this attitude even extends to in-universe, too! People increasingly fawned over the first prince, who very much was filling in the role of 'this prince you know vs. his hotter and more competent elder brother', as virtually represented by my expert skills in Microsoft Paint artistry as such:

Naturally, there was only so much time before the people IRL could succumb to Leonidas Fever (and no, this time we're not talking about all the people who were so devoted to this dude to effectively set themselves into a fatal, firey, steroid-filled death!) at this unrelenting onslaught.

It was hard not to see comments such as these that started pouring in (and yes, all of these were just about Leonidas exclusively):

(I'll attribute the misspelling to being overcome with Leonidas Fever, a grave illness indeed!)

(Another serious symptom: the decline of any self-preservation instinct around Leonidas, who is indeed Very Dangerous and Will Kill You!)

Ahem. You get the picture. Thus concludes the slow, insidious buildup from just another sibling for Euden to probably commit a whoopsie-daisy fratricide in the future to one of the fandom's favorite menaces, all carefully plotted-out by the collective efforts of devs who were the first to succumb to the sickness...Right?

This concludes my professional historical report on this very serious issue that I suspect lingers to this day. The Fever has but been put into remission; it has not faded yet.

Extra:

So a long time ago I commented that some of the royal family seemed to have pointier teeth than normal, which I speculated because they deliberated giving a bit more 'draconic' traits to define dragonblood, and I didn't realize how pervasive this was until I saw Emile's model there. Look at his fang!

...

...How did I forget the weapon skin of Leo's gun is additionally named "Royal Dominator"?

#The royal family truly robbed the bank with their genetics. Magic powers. Sharp-looking as a whole...and they have been for 300 years+! #dragalia lost #dragalia #leonidas #He's strong. He's handsome. He's a fantastic chef. He's had cat ears put on him in a comic. #the People were to put it bluntly Screwed or so I would reckon in my comprehensive study of #'why the heck are you guys thirsting over xyz character NOW?' #...Also a very formal scientific field. #I'm additionally glad in the end that Leo bore the brunt of this #Since at least he's likely 25+. A disappointingly high amount of media can't even manage that!

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 37. brb x oc

a/n: AAAAAAAAA FUCK F U C K ( also shoutout to @taytaylala12 who HELPED ME WITH THE WHOLE BABY PROCESS EHE)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: JESUS CHRIST PREGNANCY, BABY, AAAAAAA??????????

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi

-

When his birthday arrives, she wakes up a few minutes after she hears Rooster in the bathroom. She,however,stays in bed looking up at the ceiling, wincing at the little cramp that was now a common occurrence since Nicole got bigger.

She knew it was nothing to worry about, it was very similar to the other cramps she had months before, it was the same sharp yet dull pain in her navel that she decided not to tell Rooster.

Not only because it was his birthday,but mainly because she didn’t want him worrying so much so early in the morning. It was normal, everything was fine, there was nothing more going on. Maybe it was just because Nikki’s due date was coming up and their daughter was just getting restless and it was fine! There was nothing to worry about.

The faucet shut off when Beatrice slowly sat on the bed, heaving out a sigh and looking up to see her husband’s worried face from the door, “I’m okay.” she stretches her arms towards him, “Help me up?” she didn’t have to ask twice, because Rooster immediately stepped closer to her, wrapping his big hands around her smaller ones and giving her a tug to stand up to her feet. “Thank you,Roos.”

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” she smiles, then leans up to kiss his chin, “I promise.”

“Do you want me to do anything?” he questions, following her to the bathroom, eagle eyed at the brunette who opened the faucet to wash her face, “I can draw the bath for you.”

“I’d really like that.” she held back another wince from the cramping, he hadn’t noticed it, thankfully, “Then we can start working on your birthday party.”

Rooster still thought there was no need to start preparing things now, it was a barbecue, the only things they’d have to worry about was putting the meat on the grill and popping some beer bottles open…and of course there was the amazing Belgian chocolate cake in the fridge that he hadn’t noticed until now but still! “Baby they won’t get here until eleven.” he explains, walking around her to fill the bathtub, “There’s no need to hurry.”

But Beatrice, who always wanted to be a good host and often worried if people were having fun or not, pursed her lips into a little frown, “Well…okay,but we are going to add some balloons at least, wait no they’ll deflate by the time they arrive…hm…” he just smiled, he loved her so much but she had other things in her mind she should worry about.

“Alright,gorgeous.” he says once the bath is filled, the water is just warm enough for her and Nicole to be safe inside, “Come on in.” and he tried not to look down at her full breasts when she undresses, offering his hand to her so she could step in without issues, “You know what,” he begins once she’s already inside, “I could join you-”

“Rooster.”

“It’s my birthday and I think it’d be really welcome.”

Beatrice makes a face, eventually breaking into a smile, “Alright, but no funny business.” she mutters, scooting a bit forward so there’s enough space behind her, “Hop in.” the water ripples when he finally steps inside, his legs on either side of her body and his hands on her shoulders to bring her to his chest, his lips immediately touching her temple.

“Comfortable?” she nods, fluttering her eyes shut as Rooster’s lips remain on her head, Beatrice’s body relaxing as he gently caressed her stomach, “...just a few more days.” he whispered, “We have everything for the hospital bag,right?”

Beatrice,with her eyes closed, just arched her brow, “Do you want to check again?”

“I mean we checked it twice yesterday.” he murmured against her hair, gently lifting her belly and letting it go like he learned in the antenatal classes, his wife easing out a sigh of relief, ‘I don’t think it’d be a bad idea if we did it again.”

The movements he was doing were helping her cramps a lot, that and the warm water surrounding them, she had to hold herself from falling back asleep so she chose to place one of her hands on his arm, caressing the dark hairs, “I don’t mind. It’s always good to check if we really got everything.” he was excited, she knew that was why he was talking about it and it was the cutest thing.

Her husband, who was over six feet and built like a brick wall, always got soft spoken whenever talking about their child and the things they’d have to do. He fixed Nicole’s room months ago, he was also the one that often cleaned it - because again he didn’t want her to be overworked even if she did assure him she was completely fine doing so - and made sure it was perfect for Nicole when she was able to use it.

It was adorable, it was perfect and it was such a Rooster thing to do. Beatrice smiles up at him, he’s talking about how they should bring more change of clothes for her and he had to check if the car seat they bought - because the one she used for Bianca was already well, claimed for - was safe enough for the baby. She was so in love with him she just placed her cheek on his chest, watching him speak until he finally noticed her eyes staring adoringly at him, “What?”

She shrugs, “You are just too sweet,Roos.” she whispers, “I’m very lucky.”

“You know I should be the one saying that.”

“Are we going to go back and forth on who's the luckiest of the two?” she asks just as he leans his head closer to her, lips curling into a smirk.

“Yep.” he mutters against her mouth, “It’ll be a long argument that we’ll never take either answer as true.” he pecks her lips softly, “Then let’s just say we are both lucky enough to have each other, how’s that?”

Beatrice giggles against his lips, cupping the underside of his jaw before breaking the kiss, sighing happily with her eyes closing once more as she snuggled up against him, “I like that idea.”

“Me too.” he kisses the top of her head again,”Do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Hmmm…I’m good.” she says, “You can just be here with me, that’s already pretty relaxing.”

He chuckles against her scalp, inhaling the delicious lavender from her hair as her hands land on top of his still covering her stomach. “I’m going to miss this.” Beatrice makes a confused noise, furrowing her brows, “I don’t know, touching you like this, it’s really nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You mean my huge pregnant stomach?” she asks with a little grin, “That’s so cute,Brad.”

“Well, you said I was cute.” he smirks, propping his chin on the curve of her shoulder, the water no longer warm as before, signaling they’ve been in there for quite a while already and they hadn’t even bathed yet…but they were both so comfortable, “I guess it’s just because it’s so new,huh?Anyway,we better clean up because soon enough the water is going to turn cold as fuck and you can’t stay here with cold water all around you.”

Beatrice giggles, “Fair. I’d hate to become a giant popsicle because of it.”

“All pruned up too.” he smirks, kissing her head one last time, “But I’d love you no matter what. Now come on, get yourself ready,I’ll wash your hair.”

-

Beatrice’s cramps remained but they weren’t bad, they never got worse than normal - and she had some bad ones these past months - it was just a very annoying discomfort and she didn’t want to bring all the attention to her on Rooster’s birthday. Plus, seeing everyone there, from the Dagger Squad to her family was more than a good distraction from the cramping.

“Okay now- oh.” she stops walking when she feels a giant head pressing up to her stomach, Eleanor’s big brown eyes looked up at her with caution, gently sniffing the brunette’s covered belly, “Hey Ellie,I’m okay girl.” she coos, petting the dog gently as she holds a few clean plates one handed, “I’m okay, go outside with your mama and brother,okay? You are going to get some bones!”

Eleanor stops, considers it, then leaves the kitchen towards the backyard where the laughter and music could be heard. Beatrice closed her eyes with relief thanking whatever deity was responsible for allowing them to have his birthday there, at home, crazy to think that one year ago he proposed to her on this very day.

Wow, time was going by so fast.

From them dating, to marriage and now Nicole was literally days away from being born. 

“What are you doing?” the voice snaps her out of her thoughts, turning towards the glass doors to where she sees Shells with her hands on her hips, looking absolutely annoyed.

“We needed more plates-” but her friend marches up to her, grabs the colorful plates from her hands before Beatrice could complete her sentence, “Well-”

“I’m sorry, who’s the one almost popping a baby out? Surely isn’t me, why aren’t you sitting?!”

Beatrice frowns,looking down at her stomach, “It’s…well,I just–”

“Beatrice just wanted to be a good host, Shells.”Evelyn’s voice adds in, stepping between the two to grab the plates from the blonde this time, “Even though it was better if she didn’t, it’s okay to be useful. Are you okay tho?”

Beatrice nods after a subtle cramp inside, this one a bit more intense but again she said nothing, “I’m fine.I just,well, everyone is outside-”

“Including your husband whose only reason for not following you inside is because he’s flipping stuff on the grill.” Shells comments, crossing her arms over her chest with her brows furrowed, “You really are okay? Because if you are you have to, you know, go back outside and enjoy the time you got with everyone, it’s already six in the afternoon and you are still moving about.”

Already?!

Time was really going by fast.

“I promise I’ll sit down and relax.” she smiles, holding both of her hands up in defense, “I promise guys, I won’t be walking around too much.”

“Good, now go back outside,Rooster is already itching to get you.”Evelyn smirks, nodding her head towards the backyard. Beatrice thanks Evelyn and Shells,the blonde almost pushing her out of the kitchen to the door only being prevented by their taller friend who held her by the inner elbow.

Beatrice cautiously walks out of the kitchen to the backyard, Eleanor glued to her side like a magnet to a fridge. She thanks the white dog, before lifting her eyes to meet Rooster’s. He was relaxed, leaning back against the chair with his shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, exposing the chest hair and some of the sun kissed skin, his legs were crossed - the one on top was his tattooed leg - and he was wearing flip flops. 

He smiles up at her when she waddles closer, immediately standing to his feet so he could help her sit down herself, “Hey gorgeous.” he says, kissing her cheek, “The girls kicked you out?”

“In a way.” she places one hand on top of her stomach then the other on the chair’s arm, slowly sitting down with Rooster’s own hands supporting her lower back, “I’m okay though, they just didn’t want me to move around too much.”

He made a face that clearly meant he understood their concerns, waiting until she was settled enough to sit down next to her, “I don’t blame them.” he says with a gentle chuckle, before he lifts his gaze to where their friends and family were, all talking amongst each other, laughing, having fun…it was a great way to celebrate his birthday. “Thank you,by the way.” he holds her hand under the table, rubbing her knuckles. “If I hadn’t listened to you we wouldn’t have such a good time.”

There was Queen playing in the background, their friends were having a wonderful time and Beatrice - while her Braxton-Hicks were annoying - was just as happy to see him smiling like that “I told you it was a good idea, Roos.” she whispers, leaning closer to kiss his cheek, but he turns just in time for their lips to meet. They laugh against each other’s mouths, then pull back because they both knew if they remained like that their friends would have absolutely no mercy.

Not that they wouldn’t normally, they always liked teasing them.

They kept their hands together as they talk to everyone else, his thumb rubbing her knuckles while her hand squeezes his every now and again. She’s currently drinking water after eating some of the things they had planned for the party - including the cake - and was now enjoying the conversation, sometimes chiming in whenever it came her way.

Jolene,Eleanor and Jack surrounded her chair, curled up close to Beatrice. She wished she could say the Braxton-Hicks were getting lighter, but they weren’t, sometimes she’d squeeze his hand way too tight only to say that Nicole was just pressing up her bladder and that she was fine. He lets go of her hand to grab another beer from the cooler they had outside, Beatrice’s jaw clenching at a strong one that made her toes curl and grit her teeth.

Rooster was leaning against the wall with one of his hands inside his shorts’ pocket, laughing with Payback and Coyote, his head turned away from her -which she was thankful for, again there was nothing to worry about-

Something wet.

She feels something wet sliding down her leg.

Beatrice widens her eyes, no one seems to notice how she suddenly paled then looked down at her long flowery dress to check. The dogs immediately stood up, snouts directed to the small puddle forming between her feet, “...oh…shit…” she breathes in slowly, then looks up at Rooster only for another cramp to hit her, stronger than before, it almost punched the air out of her lungs.

She couldn’t be in labor. No, she had everything written down, Nicole was coming on the thirtieth! Beatrice clenches the table cloth, almost ripping the light blue colored fabric, “Roos.” She calls, but because of the music and talking he can’t hear her…she doesn’t want to call too much attention or stop the party, shit, but she had no choice. “Roos,” again, “Rooster,” louder this time, when she gets no response she inhales before letting out a “Bradley!”

He immediately stops the conversation, in fact everyone does to look towards her, “...Roos,I don’t want you to freak out.” she begins, “B-But I think we might have to go to the hospital.”

There’s complete silence, the type that you’d only hear if someone suddenly died. The beer that was in Mav’s mouth was immediately spat out and he had to cover his mouth before it flew on Halo’s face. The beer bottle that Bradley was holding however,slipped from his grasp, his smile faltering and eyes widening, not hearing the sharp crash of the bottle hitting the ground, “...wait, now? Now?”

“Roos,yes!” she groans in pain, “My water broke!”

Everyone stands up quickly, chairs fall, the dogs start barking, Beatrice’s brothers are freaking out and her parents are surrounding her while Shells is shouting - much like Michael Scott- “Everybody calm the fuck down it’s happening!” 

Beatrice understood the commotion but she was in too much pain to actually voice it out, “Okay,shit,fuck!” Rooster almost trips over himself as he runs up the stairs to where the hospital bag was. Beatrice remembers to breathe, clenching her eyes,her teeth, her hand that was holding her body up against the table, all the while she could feel the uncomfortable wetness between her thighs.

Rooster’s loud footsteps could be heard above everyone’s panicked talking, he had the hospital bag on his shoulder and the car seat on his hand…only to remember he couldn’t help Bea if he had all of that on him, “Shit,” he looks around quickly, meeting Rafael’s eyes who walked away from Beatrice’s side to take everything from his son-in-law’s panicked grip.

“i got it ragazzo, go help Beatrice.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“Alright gorgeous,” he looks down at her face, red and pained, before he licks his lips and leans down to pick her up bridal style.

“No, no!” she waves her hand, swatting his own, “I’m too heavy, there’s no time,Roos!”

Normally he’d disagree, but considering the situation he nodded and grabbed her hand, “Come on,gorgeous, to the car.” shit there were the steps to the garage still. Everyone was running about, opening doors,holding dogs - Bianca was explaining to Éwoyn that they were going to have a little cousin!- grabbing towels for Bea as they walked towards the Bronco.

Rooster pulls the seat back once they reach the garage with her mother hovering behind in case she needed help, her daughter was just trying her best to not succumb to the sudden amount of pain darting all over her body, “Okay, gorgeous.” he whispers, helping her inside, kissing her forehead, “We’ll be there super quick okay?”

Beatrice could only nod with a little smile, closing her eyes when her mother kissed her forehead this time before Rooster closed the door. Holy shit his daughter was coming, she was going to be born on his birthday…possibly that is. Claudia looks up from her daughter to Bradley who stood to the side with his fists clenched and eyes unfocused, “Bambino, go on, we’ll clean the house, yes?”

“...right, right okay.I’ll let you guys know?” she nods, cupping his cheeks and pecking his own forehead, patting his face before she gives a step back, enough for him to walk around the car and get on the driver’s seat, “How’s it?”

Beatrice grunts, leaning her head back against the seat as he reverses the car, “It’s…it’s not great,Roos.” she laughs humorlessly.

“You said you were fine!” he sounds surprised, maybe a tiny bit annoyed, “Why didn’t you tell me about the contractions?”

“I-I thought-” another wince “I thought it was just Braxton-Hicks! Or-Or Nikki kicking my bladder, I-I didn’t think my water was going to break today! And I didn’t want t-to ruin your birthday.”

If Rooster wasn’t focused on the road he’d give his wife a stupefied stare, “You didn’t want to- Jesus,Bea.” he rubs his forehead with his fingertips, “Baby, no, no no, there’s nothing–” he turns to look at her and noticed how her eyes glossed then decides that this wasn’t the right time for it, she didn’t need the extra stress, “It’s okay, is it getting worse?”

“A-A little.”

“Okay,” he licks his lips, looking around the street for another way to the hospital, turning the car before it gets stuck in traffic, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” he drops one of his hands from the wheel to grab hers, bringing it up to his lips to press several little kisses against her skin, “We’ll be okay. Just a few minutes okay?”

Beatrice nods, chewing her lower lip hard as she breathes in and out like she was taught to, mentally thinking that if Nikki wanted to be born today she was going to be born today.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

[x-i-l-verify]

20 Questions For Writers

Was tagged by @kuraiarcoiris and decided why not. :V

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

35. I have more on other sites, but since I've made my AO3 account, that's how many I've posted there.

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2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

656,547. Give or take a couple thousand.

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3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently? Dream SMP. But I also have an Inscryption WIP and a couple Kpop WIPs that I really should get back to one of these days. orz But I've written for all sorts of fandoms over the years.

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4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5) Its Suffering Was Real [Inscryption]

This is the one that came as the biggest shock to me when I went and looked at my kudos count in preparation for this write-up. Like, really? People like the fic where I torture the sassy robot trapped in the body of a stoat for 7k words that much??

4) A Shoulder to Lean On [Avatar: The Last Airbender]

WHERE did all these people come from, I have like 6 comments on this thing (not counting my replies)??? I mean, I'm flattered, but ??!!?!

3) Accepting Amelioration [Voltron: Legendary Defender]

I mean, it's a Voltron fic posted back when the fandom was in full swing, it doesn't really surprise me the kudos counter is considerable, though I am still surprised it got that much traction considering the fic is gen and not shippy. Am still proud I made the first daemon AU in the entire fandom, though, if this is my claim to fame, then I'm ok with that. :p

2) Temporary Shelter [Astro / VIXX]

I seriously have no freaking clue how this little self indulgent Kpop crossover fic became so popular, I really don't. I mean, Kpop crossovers are niche at the best of times, and these two groups aren't exactly the most popular Kpop fandoms on AO3 if you know what I mean. It basically started as "wouldn't it be fun if my two favorite Kpop groups were secretly friends all this time? How would I have that happen, tho?" and then snowballed from there. I, uh. I'm glad so many other people like it, ig? 0_0

1) Paved with Pawprints [My Hero Academia]

Of course it's the MHA pet AU fic. Of course. OF COURSE-

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5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely. It's only fair I reply if someone takes the time to read on my work and actually give me feedback about it, wouldn't you say? Plus, like most authors, I enjoy talking about my own work, so sue me. >:p

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6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't usually do angsty endings; I prefer happy or at least bittersweet ones. I guess by default, it has to be the fic where I slowly killed off America and China from Axis Powers Hetalia for 13k words, while the rest of the cast had already been dead for centuries at that point. So yes, the entire cast of that series was dead by the end of that fic. :))) IN MY DEFENSE, ok, I was actually trying to give them a bittersweet ending by reuniting them with all of their old friends and family by finally letting them rest after so long alone, but it still turned out really sad. TT TT It's basically my only fic where I can't go back and reread it more than once every couple of years, because I still end up a sobbing mess by the end.

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7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, I guess that's what you define "happiest" as. The most cathartic? The one with the least amount of trauma and extreme bodily injury incurred by the characters? 🤔 I guess by the latter definition, it would Kaleidoscopic Perceptions, a very fluffy USPH college AU that I actually enjoyed writing a lot despite me not usually enjoying romance or college AUs.

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8. Do you get hate on your fic?

No, thankfully. I've gotten a couple kinda weird comments, and of course the obligatory "It's been X months since you updated were you aware?????" comments, but no outright negativity.

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9. Do you write smut?

LMAO. Absolutely not.

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10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I really love crossovers. I have a few common fallbacks that fit with a lot of fandoms (daemon AUs, Firefly AUs, etc.), but I also enjoy fandom-specific crossovers when I can figure out how to pull them off.

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11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No idea. I hope not!

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12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Just once for this Gravity Falls fic.

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13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes. It had a few ups and downs, but it was overall a really positive experience, and I think it turned out really well!

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14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?

idk that I have an ALL TIME favorite ship, especially since I hardly ever ship anything, but Frobin is pretty choice, I gotta say.

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15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Er, none of them, hopefully? I hope that I eventually get to finish all my WIPs at some point, even if it might take me awhile. >.>; But I suppose if I had to pick ONE to abandon, I'd probably pick Written In, my D&D Inscryption crossover AU. I like the IDEA for it, but writing it out is like pulling teeth, and after the first installment where the party gets together, I don't really have a lot of ideas on where to take the plot. :/ Like I have the general overarching idea but no plot structure or anything but small disconnected story beats.

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16. What’s your writing strengths?

I like to think I do a pretty good job with descriptions while not bogging the story down too much with too much detail?

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17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh, staying motivated ig. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you're asking my weakness about mechanics, though, uh... exposition, I guess? Dialogue in general, sometimes.

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18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If there is actual information included in the other language, then you better provide a translation. If it's just for flavor, though, have at it.

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19. First fandom you wrote for?

TMNT, specifically the 2003 show. It's never been posted anywhere on the internet and never will. :)

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20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Becoming Real, a Kpop fanfic based on VIXX's Voodoo Doll MV. However, it can easily stand on its own as its own original work. I consider it the most accessible story I've ever written, and it also was just very easy for me to write. Writing is often like pulling teeth for me, but not this story.

Tagging: @breezy-cheezy, @quicktothebatjalopy, @hiding-in-the-vault, @variablememory, @bleue-flora, @theriu

#tag meme #xi yammers #fanfic

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 3

Warnings: canon typical violence

Word Count: 2100ish

Roughly 10 years ago

You often spend your free time in the closet. It is cramped and musty and dark, perfect for summoning shadows without being seen. You are ever grateful for the ability to see no matter how little light, it has kept you safe numerous times and currently allows you to see the minute difference between the shadow dagger you were trying to form and the surrounding lightlessness of the closet. Forming moving tendrils of shadow is child’s play for you, something you had perfected, at least in one tendril at a time, when you were 9. Now, at the age of 14, you are focused on forming something more exact, solid, with a clear and controlled form. So far, all you have managed to do is cut your fingertips on sharp blobs of shadow vaguely resembling triangles. You sigh quietly in frustration as you fail yet again. Maybe you need to start small, with something that can cut and be directed, even if it doesn’t have an identifiable form. You are distracted from this idea by a sudden pull in your chest. 

The pull is strange, familiar in the sense that it reminds you of when you’ve exhausted yourself after summoning extensively for hours, but strange because it almost seems like it’s telling you something, instructing you to follow its tug. You follow, but only because you decide it’s time for a break, and exit your little hiding place. Once out of the closet, you open the door to the bedroom and find two small children in the hallway. Ones you had never met before, so they must be new to the orphanage.

The girl was small, even for her age. Dark brown hair was in disarray framing a dirt and tear streaked face. She fiercely clutched the hand of the boy next to her, who she had only just met, but seemed to have chosen as a friend already. The boy wasn’t as disheveled, but bits of twigs and leaves were stuck in his mop of dark curls. They were so ordinary, so in place in a country full of orphans. Except for their eyes. It wasn’t that the color was unusual, nor were they particularly large or striking. What caught your eye was how alive they were. Bright, when most of the other children had long since lost that shine of hope. You chose them in that moment. Maybe you could keep them safe from some of the horrors of the world. They had already been through so much, they deserved some peace.

“Hello malen'kiye, I’m Katarina.” You crouch down in front of them as you introduce yourself. “What are your names?”

“Alina Starkov.” “Malyen Oretsev.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Alina and Malyen. I know things are scary right now, but I’m going to teach you how things work around here. Everything is going to be okay.”

“How long have you been here?” Alina sniffles.

“2 years, give or take. That means I know where Ana Kuya keeps her stash of sweets, how to avoid creaky doors and boards, and which of the other children are actually fun to play with.”

You were still only a child yourself, at least according to Ana Kuya, but you swore you would do everything you could to keep these two safe. 

*******

“Are you sure you are going to be okay, Katarina? I can skip lessons to stay with you.”

“I’ll be just fine, Alya, the Darkling doesn’t scare me.”

She still looks unsure and you stop lacing up your boots to look her in the eye. 

“Moya malen'kaya sestra, there is nothing to worry over,” you tease lovingly.

“Alright, please don’t stab him,” she requests.

“You’re worried that I’ll harm your precious General? As long as he behaves, he’ll live,” you say with a smile. “Now go or you’re gonna be late.” At that, she left you alone with your thoughts as you prepared yourself for the day.

You had spent the night in her room, sleeping for only a few hours before it was time for breakfast. Thankfully, it had been sent to her room so the two of you got more time to catch up, mainly her telling you more about the last few months and you alternating between teasing her and telling her how proud you were of all she’d accomplished.

You were grateful again that you had the foresight to bring a clean change of clothes. Though little Alina had filled out since she began summoning, she was still several inches shorter than you and borrowing her clothes would have been a nightmare. Finishing lacing up your knee high boots, you began the process of placing your knives in inconspicuous spots on your person. One small dagger on the inside of each boot, carefully tucked to protect your skin. Another knife, barely large enough to truly be a weapon, was hidden in a compartment in the sole of each of your boots. One each of your thighs were your obvious weapons, a pair of daggers that caught the eye with their black handles decorated with lines of gold. You tightly braid your hair and then tuck a couple lock picks, you never knew if one day you would be in a situation where you were changed and unable to use your powers. It paid to be prepared. Another knife at the small of your back and a final weapon tucked down your bodice, a garment that doubled as light armor. It was laced with bits of core cloth you had scavenged from various dealers across Ravka. 

You had only just finished when a firm knock came from the door. You check yourself in the mirror and go to open the door.

“General.”

“Ms. Starkov.” He returns your bland tone.

He takes you to the stables and the two of you ride briskly on horseback before reaching  an old, forgotten well. You dismount and gesture to the ancient structure.

“Have you brought me here to throw me down that thing?” You joke.

“If only I could,” The Darkling responds with a sigh, catching you off guard.

“So, how’s this going to go?”

“I will attack you, and you will defend yourself.”

“Any rules? Guidelines and all that.”

“No, defend yourself however you are able.”

“This is sounding more and more like a murder attempt, Shadowman.”

“I’ll go easy on you.” The fucker is smirking now.

You’re about to mouth off when a thin, horizontal wave of shadow is thrust at you, forcing you to dive.

“Were you trying to fucking cut me? You absolute shit head!” You curse as you form a whip and flick your wrist, aiming at his left hand. He blocks by condensing a circular mass of shadows between you until it’s solid.

You can just barely see him through it and you watch his hands move in a way unfamiliar to you. Another horizontal slice of shadow moves towards you, this time you’re prepared and stand your ground, diverting his cut to either side of you, allowing it to pass harmlessly.

“This is you going easy on me, old man?”

“What do you think?” He asks evenly. It doesn’t answer your question, but it does help you decide to use full force with him as well.

“Fine.” You may not have the big, flashy movements of shadow summoning perfected, but sometimes bigger isn’t better. Your shadows are small and precise as you form multiple palm width cuts and throw them in his direction. He grins and disappears into the fucking shadows.

Of course he would know how to do that. It’s hardly as if you invented it, but it’s  still unnerving to not be able to see him as he walks somewhere between this world and the Shadow Realm, as you call it.

You listen carefully for any sound of movement, feeling out with tendrils of shadow for any shift in the dark. You barely notice in time to duck. At least he hadn’t thrown the cut at you this time, only something blunt and solid. You drop to the ground and whip around on your knees. In a fluid, carefully practiced movement, you summon a wave of shadow and send it hurtling towards him. The second it leaves your person, you flick the daggers hidden in your sleeves and hurl them towards him, carefully aimed so they will only knick him, so long as he moves the way you predict.

The Darkling diverts your shadows, and even parries the first dagger, but the second brushes against his cheekbone and ear as it sails past him, leaving a crimson path in its wake.

You prepare yourself for retaliation, 2 tendrils of shadows weaving in front of you in anticipation. Instead, the Darkling reaches up and touches the thin trail of blood. Truly only a scratch, you hadn’t wanted to damage him, knew you wouldn’t be able to kill him. Your intention was to show him your strengths, without pissing him off too much.

“Enough,” he says calmly, though his breathing is heavy from the exertion of the sparring match. He glances at the sheen of blood on his fingers. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly. “That means so much after you tried to cut me in half! More than once. Saints, had I been any other summoner, you would have killed me!”

“Who taught you the Cut?”

“I taught myself, asshole. What were you going to tell Alina if you brought me back in pieces?”

“That you attacked me in a misplaced defense of her honor and I was forced to defend myself. You certainly brought enough weapons with you to support my story.”

“Alina knows that I always wear these. You fucking jerk! Are you still planning to kill me?” You raise more tendrils of shadow.

“To be truthful, it was not my intention to kill you today. That would be a waste.”

“And if I hadn’t known how to deflect a cut?” 

“Then I would have stopped it before it touched you.”

You hadn’t thought stopping a cut was possible once it was released. You had tried and not yet succeeded, had assumed it was like firing a bullet- you can’t recall it mid air.

“What’s the verdict, Shadowman? Do I have your permission to tell Alina now?”

“If you think that is wise.” 

“Speak plainly, Darkling.”

“You are aware of how Ravka and the Church view my line, yes?”

“Yes.”

“The Apparat has been spreading rumors that Alina is being held against her will. Her image is already tainted by her association with me. How do you think the otkazat’sya will react when they find out their Sun Saint grew up with a Darkling?”

“I am not a Darkling. That title is reserved for you and your line.”

“They will not see it that way. You summon shadows, you will be seen as an extension of me and the Black Heretic.”

“What do you suggest then? I hide this from her indefinitely?”

“Was that not what you were originally intending?”

“It doesn’t matter what my original intent was, she’s Grisha, she’s a summoner, she’s young. She needs me.”

“Act as her sister, her protector. I can give you a place among her guards. Wait until she has brought down the Fold.”

“Why not tell her now and have her keep it a secret?”

“Do you believe the younger Ms. Starkov to be in possession of enough discretion to keep such a secret? All it takes is one person to learn of you, to overhear a conversation or one of her thinly veiled comments, and all of Os Alta will know by week’s end. As you said, she is young.”

Alina would never willingly share a secret she agreed to keep, but she had a temper and was impulsive, often saying the first thing that came to mind. You shake your head, a what if and a maybe weren’t enough to continue lying to your sister.

“No. Taking down the Fold could take years. I won’t wait that long.”

“Understood. After the Winter Fete, then.”

“That’s on the Solstice?”

“Yes. Waiting until the Fete will allow her the time to be properly introduced to Ravka without distraction.”

You nod. “Alright, if you teach me how to dissipate a cut before it reaches a target.”

“I agree to your terms.”

“Is it public knowledge that you can shadow walk?”

“Not officially. I prefer to keep the details of my power vague.”

You hum as you get back on your horse.

“I still don’t believe you weren’t trying to kill me,” you muse.

“If I wanted you dead, Ms. Starkov, you would know it.”

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

@kayhi808, budugu, stuffyownswrld, judig92, intothesoul

#darkling x reader #alina starkov & sister!reader #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova x reader #slow burn

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 9

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: none. A/N: Enjoy!

Masterlist - Also on AO3

He supposed he should be glad of something, at least no one had followed them and spread around the events of that fight. He didn't think he had it in him to answer any probing question at the moment.

Finrod returned to the party, his family was worried and Amarië had searched for him, he didn't want to disappoint them but he was too emotionally drained from his fight with Atarinkë to continue with the festivities, thankfully his dirty clothes and a sudden head ache gave him the perfect excuses to leave early and just throw himself into his bed, dirty clothes and all.

Tomorrow, he told himself, I will deal with this tomorrow, I just need some rest, I can fix this, tomorrow.

Tomorrow did arrive and Finrod decided to wait for Atarinkë in their usual spot where so long ago he'd first invited Atarinkë for a game of chess, it had always been their ritual, Atarinkë had never been late for one of their games. So he waited. And waited. And waited.

"Findaràto," someone was shaking him "Findaràto."

When his brain finally connect he jumped, hoping to find Atarinkë there, late and remorseful, or angry, or even happy, he didn't care, he just needed to talk with Atarinkë. Only it wasn't him.

"Disappointed?" Aikanàro asked with a chuckle.

Finrod looked around but there was no sign Atarinkë had even been there that day "Sorry, I was waiting for someone, didn't think I'd fall asleep, do you need anything?"

Aikanàro shrugged and they spent the rest of the time talking. Atarinkë never came.

He then waited the next day and again he waited on nothing. It would only be on the fourth day that he would discover Atarinkë had pulled away from the project and all the Fëanorians had decided, not to return to Formenos where Finrod would have followed him, but to travel again, no particular destination in mind.

The message was clear, Atarinkë had said his goodbyes and this time he'd been serious, time to move on now. Then why did it feel like Finrod was falling with nothing to hold on to? Why eating felt as if it had lost all flavor? He'd never felt so utterly helpless before.

His parents thought it was due to Amarië return to the vanyar and he didn't have the heart to correct them, let them believe in that love they'd made up if it made them happier, maybe Atarinkë had been correct about their parents. He tried to continue his duties but trying to complete the pavilion on his own was not a viable option anymore so he pulled away from the project, he'd been so happy about it, all the little things they had made, even as Atarinkë fought him all the way, was theirs, this project was supposed to be for them to be together, there was no reason for him to stay without him.

He continued to trudge along, he finished his studies and his apprenticeship, he left Tirion for the sandy shores of Alqualondë, he had fun playing games with his siblings, he'd swim at the beach, dug a way out of the feeling of helplessness and found some more meanings outside of Atarinkë. His heart could bleed but the world had not stopped yet. Finrod continued.

One day, months after Atarinkë had left, Finrod felt that his brothers were laughing at him, Artanis tried to shush them, a look of boredom on her face, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ammë and Atya have prepared something, but you will not learn it from me" she answered, chin up.

He tried everything, her favorite sweets, owed favors, saying he'd owe her a favor, alas, his sister resisted every bribery and he'd spent the rest of the week figuring out what it could be. It wasn't a new project, he'd been clear he was not ready for that yet, it couldn't be another sibling... could it? No, if it was so he would not have been the last to know. Besides the family was already excited enough with the news of Angaràto being the first of them to beget a child, no need for another one just yet.

He should've figured out it was Amarië long before he set foot in the parlor.

She smiled prettily at him and Finrod remembered Atarinkë screaming that she was in love with him, but he looked at Amarië and all he could think was the black pit inside of him that missed Atarinkë.

"Your parents invited me," she explained "I thought it was from you at first, if it's a bother I'll leave, no need to feel obligated."

Amarië was sweet and kind and she wanted to love him. Finrod was tired of dark corners and picking out thorns.

"No, please, I'd love to be your host for the time being."

And for that month, Finrod felt like a person for the first time since he and Atarinkë started to truly fight, he and Amarië had fun, walks around the beach, exploring the city, they had several conversations about their people, what their families expected of them and what they'd become without those expectations. Every passing day he could feel his parents hopeful gaze and his inescapable doubt.

"You know you do not owe me anything, right?" Amarië asked him one day when they were, oh, so cleverly, left alone.

Finrod flushed, pricking himself with the needle of the embroidery  he'd been doing on a handkerchief and Amarië calmly passed him, her own more scruffy work.

"I'm not doing anything outside my will," he finally answered, head down.

Amarië smiled "No, but it's not what your heart wants either."

Finrod stared in distress into her kind face, he wanted to love her so much, he had wanted that their moments together had meant something different but as it always did, their time together had only reinforced what he already knew. He and Amarië were friends.

"It doesn't matter what my heart wants," Finrod got up so he could kneel to Amarië "I want to love and I want to be loved, and my love for you goes deep Amarië but you are correct there is someone else I love, it is not someone I can be with and I don't want to deceive you or give you any false promises."

"But if you are still willing to take me as I am I can at least promise to treat you with all the kindness and respect you deserve, love can always bloom when two people care for each other and I will always care for you."

Amarië smiled, tears of joy streaming down her face "May I be selfish?"

Finrod smiled back and took her hand in his "I certainly hope so."

Finally, after many years, his parents dreams were realized and a party was quickly organized at the news, everyone around him commemorated and messages were being sent to Tirion right as he sat in the settee, watching everyone's reaction to his betrothal. Finrod was happy. Finrod had to be happy.

Not everyone shared the cheerful surrounding however, instead Artanis seemed to frown the more time passed and now sat on the opposite settee, glaring at him.

He chuckled "Something wrong? I thought you'd like for another woman to be in the house."

Artanis stared at him and Finrod would grow uncomfortable under her scrutiny before she finally replied "You don't love Amarië."

"And she knows that," he defended himself "But love is an amazing thing and can always grow later."

Her frown, however, deepened "It won't."

Artanis left and Finrod remained, alone, to ponder those words.

#briefly weirdo kid artanis #silm fic #my writing #curufinrod #curufin #finrod #finrod felagund #the silmarillion #silmarillion #feanorians #silm #trans curufin #not really explored tho #dysfunctional to functional #curufin/finrod #finrod/curufin #tolkien

[suomeen]

Chapter 4: Hyvää Joulua

We arrived on December 21, which was just a day before the Winter Solstice, the year’s longest night. And winter nights are even longer in Finland. The sun only rose up around 9 and by 15 it got dark. It’s interesting how it moves in the sky too. It rises about 30% above the horizon, goes “nope!” and goes down again.

We stayed at the house of my mother’s Ukrainian friend, or rather, her Finn husband, Markku. He lives far from civilization, out on a hill among fields. There’s a rather notable village that’s just 5 minutes’ drive from there, [more on that later], but the house feels very secluded in winter.

Our friend is named Oksana, but in Finland everyone calls her Oona, which is supposedly a local equivalent. Oksana lived in Bucha but thankfully left the country just as the war started. She worked in Finland and met this nice local man. He’s 55, a mechanic who works at a sawmill. He used to live near Helsinki but he hated the city so he moved out into the wild. He’s tall but has a heart of a child. She’s small, 53 but looks 40 at most, a single mother who lost her parents early and had a very tough life. She looks like a kid next to him. They got married within a few months. They take good care of each other.

The next day, we drove to the city. Oksana had a doctor’s appointment and we had to go officiate our visit. Markku dropped her off at the hospital first and took us to the police department. It was a bit nerve-wrecking as we weren’t sure what to expect. I was preparing myself for some degree of humiliation, ready to tell my story to justify them welcoming us and giving us home. There was no humiliation and no hard questions asked. The staff were calm and friendly. When we were done, the young handsome officer said “Dyakuyu!” It felt very misdirected.

We then had to go to the reception centre to fill out all the forms and applications regarding our stay. We knew there shouldn’t be any issues but it was still stressful and confusing. The staff were friendly and almost seemed sorry they couldn’t do more for us. Well, the Finnish staff at least. The few Ukrainians working there always look mildly annoyed. And frankly, I can now understand why.

We took care of all our stuff and were immediately given the keys to our apartment. We went there, dropped off the bags and then left again. We were supposed to pick up Oksana afterwards but things didn’t go as planned. It was supposed to be a checkup, because her blood pressure was getting too high. Turned out 3 of her heart arteries were partly blocked and needed to be fixed. What’s more, they were ready to operate her immediately.

The hospital itself is a large regional medical complex, very spacious and modern. Cozy even, for a hospital. There are pictures on the walls that make it look like a museum. There is also a nice little cafeteria for staff and visitors where we dined. Not to mention the kind of technologies they use. They basically cleared and repaired the arteries without cutting up the chest while watching the process through some kind of 3D imaging.

The surgery went fine but they only cleared one artery, so two more surgeries were needed. But that day, she was home by evening. The bill came in later. She owed them a hefty sum of 42e.

Oksana wasn’t feeling great in the following days and we didn’t either. The stress of the trip was heavy and for days I had a vertigo and a headache. We weren’t going to stay at Markku’s place for a whole week but they insisted we stayed for Christmas and it was an hour-long ride to the city, which was hard on them, so we relented.

I am very unreligious but Christmas is all about traditions so I was curious so see how it was celebrated here. I have to say if there’s one place that’s perfect to spend Christmas in, it’s Finland. Finland on Christmas looks like a place from a Coca-Cola commercial. It’s like they made a set to film it and then forgotten all about it. Small quaint houses covered in snow, perfect pine trees and illumination, it all makes one’s heart warm.

There wasn’t a big celebration, however. Markku brought in a tree and we decorated it. We ate some of the traditional foods, including a number of gooey purees, made from sweet potatoes, beetroots, and carrot. Not a fan. On Christmas eve, we went to a cemetery to put candles. It was already dark and a very solemn sight.

Markku shares the house with his mother who is the head of the family. Around Christmas, many members of the family came to their house to have a nice little gathering. It was a good chance to observe Finns in their natural habitat.

About 15 people came, mostly women. There was no alcohol and no feast, as one would expect, just a few tables set up with tea, coffee and snacks everyone brought in. People just grabbed drinks and snacks and went to hang out wherever they wanted with whoever they wanted. Nobody was dressed up. Literally just regular comfy clothes and no make-up. The only festive elements were a few cutesy headbands with reindeer antlers. Worm by older women. It was a very quiet evening with a family catching up, exchanging sentimental gifts and singing a beautiful song at the end.

A few members tried to talk to me and some expressed their sadness at the things going on in my homeland. But most politely ignored us. Which was fine, I suppose. It was their day and we were just spectators. It didn’t feel right to ruin the innocence of this day. Who know how long they can stay in it?

[slightly-smarter-nat]

Natasha Romanoff || The Unknown Widow

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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of explosions/fire; descriptions of fighting, mentions of pain, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 3585 words.

Summary: Natasha needs Lara’s help.

A/N: Part 5 of The Unknown Widow. Finally, we have Natasha Romanoff!! (The fic includes two POV’S, the main character’s and Natasha’s). The music that inspired this fic is from the ‘Black Widow’ Movie soundtrack, the sound included is ‘From the Shadows’ by Lorne Balfe. I recommend playing it alongside reading the fic, but it is completely up to you. I hope you enjoy!

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform) copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Masterlist

*Italics indicate Natasha’s POV*

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GIF not mine

Natasha Romanoff- The Unknown Widow:

-Lara’s POV-

I feel as though I can’t move. I know I should go and help but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve spent months trying to avoid a situation just like this one.

I don’t want to risk going head to head with The Taskmaster again- especially if I can avoid it, one wrong move and I’m trapped in The Red Room again.

Whoever is in the wreckage must be a high profile target, the ‘Taskmaster Protocol’ is only initiated as a last resort. Somehow I have avoided the attention, since Taskmaster is advancing towards the blazing car.

I start to grip the steering wheel, not knowing what else to do. When you imagine situations like this, you believe that you will be brave enough to fight, but with the nightmare I experienced on the plane looming over me still, I’m finding it extremely difficult to remain brave right now.

I’m here to see Natasha and to retrieve the vials, not get involved in another mess.

A surge of guilt fills my system as I turn on the car’s ignition, preparing to drive away.

I place my arm around the passenger seat’s headrest, turning slightly to get a better view behind me. I’m about to reverse the car when I take one last glance at the scene ahead.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I let out.

Of all people to stagger out of the burning heap of metal, it just had to be Natasha Romanoff.

Well this changes everything.

If I turn around now, Yelena will quite literally kill me. Though that still doesn’t do anything about my earlier fears.

I can leave, can’t I? This is Natasha Romanoff we are talking about here, an ex-Widow and an Avenger. She can take care of herself, I’m sure of it. Since she is preoccupied, I could just head to where she’s staying and search for the vials myself.

What Yelena doesn’t know can’t hurt her…right?

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

-Natasha’s POV-

The last thing I wanted to be doing tonight was to be driving out for more supplies. Ever since the ‘Sokovia Accords’ drama, I have had this uneasiness about travelling out alone. I feel like Ross is watching me everywhere I go. Hopefully I get to spend a few weeks at least in Norway before I have to move again. Thankfully he always seems to be many steps behind me, giving me a bit of time to move around before he’s too close for comfort.

I pull up to a T-intersection along the road, luckily the closest gas station is only a 10 minute drive away. I check both ways before slowly edging out, turning left-

*Bang*

It all happens so fast, one minute I’m driving along, the next my car is engulfed in flames, and sent flying across the bridge.

A few barrel rolls later, the car finally comes to a grinding halt; crashing into a section of the barrier lining the bridge. I feel all over the place, my vision is blurred; my ears are ringing; my entire body is shaking.

I try to reclaim my surroundings, taking a few steady breaths to work through the pain surging through my body. That’s when I realise the precarious situation I’m in- the car is dangling over the edge, a river runs below, I try to remain as still as possible to prevent it from falling.

I shoot a glance to my left, noticing a menacing figure making its way to my car. I forget all my efforts to remain as still as possible. If whoever is making their way over to me can cause this amount of destruction in one go, I highly doubt they’re just coming over here to talk. I scramble to unbuckle my seatbelt, allowing me room to move. I stop my action when the car suddenly tips forward, looming over the edge further. Broken shards of glass make their way past me, I grab onto the dashboard to steady myself.

The figure is getting closer, I make my way up the car, pushing my feet from the dashboard in front of me. I remember the gun I stashed in the car, I struggle, but I manage to reach it. I pull it close to me as I reach an open point from the back seat of the car, the window being absent from the blast.

I choose to address the presence walking over to me, “I’m pretty sure Ross has no jurisdiction here.” This has to be Ross’ doing, no one else would be that desperate to take me in, or worse, take me out.

I level myself into a shooting position, perching myself on the vacant seats, “And you should know I’m a better shot when I’m pissed off”.

I send a few shots their way from my gun, emptying my first clip. Out of nowhere they take hold of a shield to deflect every bullet. As I am reloading the gun, I take notice of how they peer around their shield, it’s borderline petrifying, where the hell did Ross pluck this one from?

I am about to resume my attack when their shield comes flying in my direction. I anticipate a hit causing me to flinch, but luckily it wedges itself in the metal frame of where the window once stood.

I take this as my cue to get out of the car, I clamber out and onto the road. I shuffle myself forward, on my knees, keeping my position set as I aim my weapon forward. I scan the scene in front of me, looking for my attacker… they’re not there. They can’t have just vanished. I look over my left shoulder, ensuring all of my surroundings are covered, until I hear a sound originating from my right. I turn instantly, seeing the figure lunge themself from the remnants of the car. They flip over me, I send shots their way throughout their jump, hoping to hit them with at least one bullet, but of course they dodge every shot with their reclaimed shield.

I continue my efforts, they land directly in front. They charge forward towards me, displaying their shield. Suddenly, they bring one of their feet up from the ground, kicking the gun from my hand as they perform a backwards manoeuvre. Being disarmed, I make a move to get behind them, I kick one of my legs up, lifting myself from the ground, using their body as a guide to allow myself to wrap both of my legs either side of their head. I throw my body weight forward, attempting to floor them; to which they grab my body and guide me back down to the ground.

To my surprise, they used this opportunity to repeat my move on me, exactly how I performed it on them. Only this time, they got my desired outcome, causing me to be floored instead. I roll away from them, confused with how they just replicated one of my signature moves so quickly and so accurately.

I turn to see them staring at me intently, almost as if they’re assessing my every move. I tilt my head in interest, having never experienced this type of situation before. I need to regain control of the situation, I ready myself to lunge back to my feet. One swift push from the ground I am directly eye level with- wait, what? Did they anticipate my move? This cannot be a coincidence, I don’t know if they are learning my tactics as I go, or if they have been watching me for longer than I have even realised. They’re mirroring everything I do.

I stare at my own reflection in their mask, trying to zone in on the data displayed in red on the glass. This must be how they’re copying my every move. I keep my attention focused on them, trying to gauge their next move. When they turn their gaze to the road behind them, I follow their line of sight.

They stand up and make their way over to where the car ruins are, it takes me a few seconds to realise what they’re walking over to.

“You’re not here for me”, I deduce, the only thing I can see that is worth taking is a package Rick Mason delivered to me at the trailer, I haven’t even taken the time to see what it is.

It must be of value for all this trouble to be caused for its retrieval. The question is, who’s after it.

I quickly swipe a concealed knife out of my shoe. I charge forward, attempting to stop the individual from getting to the package. As I go to swipe, they catch my hand, turning themselves around to block each swipe I take. I drop my blade, moving swiftly down to catch it to attempt a slice across their leg. They dodge each time I make an attempt, slowly spinning themselves away from my attacks, lifting each leg every time.

They bend one of their knees to catch my blade, sending me down to the ground as they lurch forward. Now kneeling, they use the time to pin my arm underneath them, I struggle to remove it from their hold. They grab tightly at my hair, lifting my head. I release a series of grunts, clutching at their hand to try and relieve the pressure. Once they have lifted me they send a punch straight to my stomach, the force sends me skidding across the road. I smack my head upon landing, causing my vision to blur once again. I attempt to refocus my sight as quickly as I can, several blinks allow me to regain some details back.

Just when I think the blurriness has faded, I see two silhouettes form… wait, one of them doesn’t belong to my attacker, someone else is here.

I must have hit my head hard, because I swear the two figures are fighting?

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

-Lara’s POV-

It took me longer than I anticipated to find something in my bag to resemble a mask- and the courage to help Natasha. I can’t have the Taskmaster see my face, if I have a chance of escaping this, I can’t have them following me again.

By the time I make it to the scene I see Taskmaster kicking Natasha across the bridge.

“Here goes nothing,” I give my arms a few shakes, and bounce lightly on the spot before sprinting forward.

Taskmaster’s back is to me, I use this to have the element of surprise. As I am running, I jump in the air ready to kick, until my leg is grabbed and I am sent flying towards the bridge’s railing. I crash into the wood, releasing a pained groan, I let myself fall forward onto my hands and knees. I look to my side and that’s when I see the package of vials. Natasha has them, does that mean she was willing to help us all along?

My thought process is interrupted when I feel a brutal kick to the side of my face. This sends me on my back, staring up at Dreykov’s new favourite. They raise their leg to kick again, I quickly roll away, avoiding any strike they attempt to send my way. After having many run-ins with Taskmaster, I know their speciality is to mimic fighting sequences- time to improvise.

I stomp on what I can assume to be wheel cover from Natasha’s car, flipping it up into my hands. I throw it at Taskmaster as a distraction, they move to block it, allowing me to drop to the ground and spin whilst kicking my leg out- flooring Taskmaster. I jump to land a punch to their form, but they move from under my desired landing location. I follow them up and send a range of rapid kicks their way. They block every kick I send, my usual move to follow would be to send a punch to my target’s face, but I need to be unpredictable.

I break my kicking sequences and perform a flip overhead, clearing Taskmaster. Once I land I grab at my holster with one hand and remove a knife strapped to my leg with the other. I turn on my spot to face Taskmaster and throw the knife directly at their thigh. They barely dodge it, skimming their suit. Instantly, I remove my gun from the holster and fire as many shots as I can. The Taskmaster makes quick work of dodging each bullet, twisting and turning with each shot. As I am shooting I notice in the distance that Natasha is slowly crawling towards the package.

‘What the hell is she doing’? Is the only thing I can think of as I watch her struggle over to the vials.

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-Natasha’s POV-

I bring myself into an upright position, slowly rubbing at my head trying to ease the ache. I take a moment to watch the two mystery figures fight. I can’t tell whether the new addition to the fight is on my side, or out for their own benefit but if they want to take on my attacker then I won’t stand in their way.

I try to take notice of their face, but they are wearing a black mask that conceals the majority of their face. Their tactical suit looks familiar though, like something I’d wear out on a mission. I’m losing track, I remember the black box the original figure was after, I search around and spot it across from me. I go to move but underestimate the amount of pain I am in, I yelp out, moving my hand to grab at my ribs. I slowly shift across the bridge towards the package, I need to see what’s inside.

After what seems like forever, I make it to the box, I am about to lift the lid when I am lifted by my jacket collar, I turn to defend myself when I realise it’s the newcomer, I expect them to hit me, but they don't. They just slowly drag me to the side and hold their hand up, pointing their finger to my spot, are they really trying to ‘stay’, what do they think I am a dog?

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————��————

-Lara’s POV-

I can’t let Natasha just take the vials and leave, I need to talk to her.

I grab my grapple device from one of my suit’s pockets, I quickly shoot towards Taskmaster’s right foot and then using its advanced features, I send a second shot to the beams above, holding the bridge’s structure up. It creates a link between Taskmaster and the bridge, I click the release, flooring Taskmaster and sending them up into the air. I know it won’t hold them for long so I run towards Natasha. I grab the collar of her jacket, moving her to the side. She needs to rest, I lay her towards the side of the bridge and give her a hand signal to say ‘stay’, she displays an expression that can only be taken as ‘are you being serious’.

I am in the process of rolling my eyes when I am grabbed by my mask and forcefully pulled back. I quickly clutch at the hands pulling at my mask, but it doesn’t do me any favours, as it is removed completely. I am thrown to the floor, as I look up I see Taskmaster freeze.

Several seconds pass and neither one of us make a move, suddenly Taskmaster reaches behind themself and reveals their sword. Floods of memories hit me at once, especially of the time me and Yelena tried to escape The Red Room.

They take a step towards me, causing me to shuffle back. My mind has gone blank, I don’t know what to do, I can’t think of my next attack.

It seems that I don’t have to, Taskmaster is struck with a scrap piece of metal, resembling a pole by Natasha. She is about to strike again when Taskmaster sends one kick to her body, causing her to slam into what remains of the bridge’s railing and falls off the bridge.

My chest constricts as I watch the scene unfold, I don’t have time to dwell though, if I don’t leave now, I won’t get out of this alive.

Using Taskmaster’s change in priority, I quickly grapple up to one of the beams above, shuffling towards the shadows.

Taskmaster turns to see that I have retreated. They scan across the bridge, looking for any sign of my location. They place their weapon back into their suit’s storage mechanism. Seemingly not interested in another pursuit.

My eyes fixate on the vials’ package, everything I’ve worked to prevent is about to occur, I’ve failed to keep the vials away from The Red Room.

Before I can allow my emotions to get the better of me, I see Taskmaster open the box used to transport the vials, noticing that it’s… empty?

I move across the beam to get a better look and to confirm that the vials aren’t there. I try to think of an explanation to explain the whereabouts of the vials. That's when I notice Taskmaster looking out towards the water. I think for a few seconds, and I can’t help the smile of relief that spreads across my face.

There’s only one person who could have salvaged the vials- Natasha Romanoff.

-ⴵ-

I give it a good 10 minutes once The Taskmaster has left the area before I dismount the bride’s structure. I need to check on Natasha. I run to grab the rest of my supplies from the rental car before heading down to the water, knowing I have a first aid kit in there somewhere for Natasha if she needs it.

I slide down the banking looking out towards the water. It's dark so it’s making it difficult to see what’s going on in the river. I start to move down, I assume Natasha would head away from the scene, hoping she wasn’t followed by Taskmaster. After about 4 minutes of walking I decided to stop. I try to come up with a solution on how to find her. I'm about to call Yelena to update her on the situation and to see if she can give me any advice on how to locate her Sister. When I hear a splash in the water, accompanied by a desperate gasp.

I can see Natasha, limping her way out of the water before falling to the ground. She’s breathing heavily, clearly exhausted. I pace myself over to her, trying my best not to startle her.

She shoots up from her position, ready to attack.

“Easy, I’m not here to hurt you.” I hold my hands up in surrender, expecting her to relax at my words, she doesn’t, in fact she tenses more.

“What do you want?” She attempts to intimidate me with her tone, but knowing how much pain she is in, the last thing she will want is a fight. I think I am safe from her for now.

“I assume you got the package,” She shuffles in her place slightly, reaching into her jacket to take out the glowing red vials.

“What are they?” She questions as she inspects them, noticing a piece of paper tucked in the centre.

“That doesn’t matter, I’ve come to do you a favour, and take them off your hands, it seems like you’ve got enough trouble as it is.” I know Yelena wanted Natasha to help us with this one, but part of me doesn’t trust her, it isn’t anything personal, I just want to protect the vials, especially with what happened on the bridge.

She doesn’t reply or even acknowledge my answer. She’s too busy staring at the paper taken from the vials. I try to make out what’s on it. I can briefly see that it’s actually a set of pictures of two children, one with blonde hair and the other with blue. Natasha notices me looking and hides the pictures from my view, “Who sent you?”

I give an awkward smile, “A mutual connection of ours, Yelena.” I point to the pictures in Natasha’s hand, assuming it’s the two of them when they were younger. It must have been Yelena’s way of sending Natasha a message that she needed her help, well before I had to get involved.

She looks away, attempting to conceal her emotions.

“Where is she?” Natasha asked me.

“Budapest.”

Natasha turns to look at me, confused.

I hope I don’t regret this, but I need to think what’s best for Lena, she needs closure, “Look, we need your help. Yelena needs you, what you're holding in your hands is more important than you know. I know you don't know who I am, so you probably won’t believe a word I say. Just come and see Yelena, and let her tell you herself, I think she needs you, she needs her family.”

Natasha stares at the water in front of her, “How do I know you’re telling the truth, how do I know I can trust you?” She looks up at me once she asks this.

“You don’t, and you don’t have to. It’s Yelena that you should be worried about and that should be enough.”

I walk over to her holding my hand out. She stares at it, then taps it away as she gets up.

“I’ll go, but I am making my own way there, give me the address.”

I smirk in response, “Bold of you to assume that I was going to give you a lift anyway”.

ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ

Taglist: @sheisnotalone @jeyramarie @sophie-reads-too-much

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel #black widow #mcu #fan fic #florence pugh #scarlett johansson #marvel fan fic #the taskmaster #taskmaster #black widow x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow movie #the unknown widow #slightly smarter nat #slightly smarter nat’s writing #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #Natasha x Yelena x reader

[skwivr]

I just need to vent, tw animal death and mental health shit under the cut (might delete later)

The last month of my life has been maybe the hardest in my life and it keeps piling on more and more, and I’m starting to seriously think if I don’t get some kind of windfall I’m not going to survive.

We had to put down our elderly dog Max last month, November 11th. He was bright and happy until the morning 3 days before he died, when he came downstairs unable to eat. He was 18 and I knew in my heart that this was it, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time. My partner had woken me up that morning crying that I needed to basically shake down commissioners for money because, 3 kind of weirdly fumbled commissions in a row later, our financial situation was not looking good.

I had to be the one to drive my whole, crying, drunk family in a dangerous storm down to the vet to put my dog down. I had to keep my emotions held in the whole time just to keep everyone in line.

Afterwards, it became clear that Max was really a glue that held our anxiety in check in a way I hadn’t realized until he was gone. Suddenly, we were a wreck.

Then my partner’s filling fell out again, and we were uninsured, and he has so much trauma related to teeth, it really just broke him mentally in a way I’ve never seen before. Suddenly he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t exercise, he could barely sit still without shaking. Again, I had to swallow everything and be his pillar.

Then his grandpa caught 3 simultaneous viral respiratory infections and was rushed to the hospital, and his aunt was on standby for 2 days prepared to sign a do not resuscitate order... it really seemed like a promise that he wasn’t going to pull through. Luckily, he was sent home, and seems to be recovering, but he’s definitely not out of the weeds yet.

Throughout all of this, both my partner and I have been having such bad medical anxiety for maybe obvious reasons. I’ve been experiencing what I think must be high blood pressure and exhaustion symptoms, a lot of weak limbs and heart palpitations and light headedness (which has thankfully decreased a bit).

It is of course now Christmas, and I haven’t had any fucking money with which to buy my family presents, and it’s put an even deeper strain on our money situation. I can’t even buy friends presents this year. Throughout all of this I’ve had to, still, just try to bottle everything and keep working on commissions to try to get a paycheck at all. I’ve been working like 16 hour days, not playing hardly any video games or anything, purposely ignoring the things I know I probably need to do to mediate my mental health, like going outside and exercising, because it seems to me that having money is a more tangible and material concern than my mental health.

My menstrual cycle has been all fucked up due to stress and that’s causing me even more medical anxiety, I’ve felt like I’ve started my period like 3 times and then it subsides. I’ve taken 2 pregnancy tests just to be insanely sure even though there’s like no way, but it doesn’t help my anxiety.

THEN in a misguided attempt to bring a dog back into our life, my mother in law adopted a 9 year old Pomeranian that a friend offered her. She’s insanely sweet, but the first day she was here she literally slipped out of the car as soon as my MIL opened the door and we needed to coax her out from underneath the neighbor’s car. She is sweet but insanely clingy and moody, refuses to eat most things, and is just stressing us out. My MIL surprised us with her when we were absolutely not prepared to take her in. And to make matters worse, she is mostly attached to ME and doesn’t seem to want to just wander the house independently, so I feel like she’s totally my responsibility.

Then, then then then, we were trying to at least keep a semblance of normalcy going by still exercising in the morning... only for the fucking electronic center of the treadmill to break. So we tried to haul out our old manual rowing machine, and the strap on that broke after a half hour of use. So, all of our exercise equipment gone within a 2 day period. I haven’t exercised consistently in 2 weeks, just sporadic planks and/or short walks.

Oh also our oven broke too. All shit we can’t fix.

We’ve been trying to keep our head above water, especially my partner, bless him, he is taking care of a lot of the shit we should have years ago. He’s started trying to learn marketable skills for an at-home job, he signed us up for state health insurance, and signed us up for food stamps (which I have to do a phone interview in 2 days which is stressing me out but at least it’s a good change). But despite all these positive changes, so much shit is happening so fast and I just want a single moment to chill. This morning I froze up and couldn’t leave my bed for like an hour I literally just laid there locked up staring at the middle distance.

Thanks sorry, this is SO rambling and I have not wanted to bum out any of my friends or family with the extent of all of this. If you’ve read all this way thank you, I’ll probably delete this in a bit.

#long post #read more #personal #venting

[lost-on-kamino]

Whumptober No.9 with Rhythm and anyone else you'd like 👀 ? Thank you hehe <3

Whumptober!! No.09 - The Very Noisy Night Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm Characters: Rhythm, Commander Thorn (Hope you enjoy Terra, dear <3 Nothing is going to happen :))

Rhythm wasn’t used to sleeping in these bunks. He was so used to home that when he had been requested to join the Coruscant Guard on an assignment to follow Senator Amidala, he was shocked. He rarely left off world and Scipio was certainly not on his bucket list to visit. Considering the tensions within the Banking Clan, the Communications Officer wasn’t sure if there was anything they could do for the Republic at this stage.

With news of Umbara fresh in his mind as well as the case of ARC Trooper who died… Rhythm wasn’t so sure in what to think. Considering Pitch didn’t talk to him after Fives had died, in fact; none of his batchmates had any contact… They likely didn’t even know that he’d left Coruscant. He could die out here and they’d be none the wiser. Rhythm curled up on in his bunk.

He attempted to will himself to sleep but found himself throwing himself around the bunk; thankfully the Shock Trooper above didn’t awaken in the bunk above and the Officer finally sat up hunched over in his bunk, pulling out a holopic of his Batchmates as Cadets… The only one with his lost twin in… Oh Chord… He’d know what to do… how to unite them all again… Beat would too…

He paused when he heard footsteps and found Commander Thorn approaching him, the Commander was taking the first watch with other shock troopers to allow half of the forces to rest up. “You okay?” Thorn whispered as Rhythm looked to his holo once more.

“Honestly sir? I feel like everything is getting worse…” Rhythm admitted. “And I’m nervous. I feel like a bigger storm is going to hit us… I don’t like this mission.” Thorn looked towards his kih’vod, gently removing his helmet and sitting down by Rhythm, brushing his trimmed beard as he thought carefully. “It’s okay to have those thoughts Rhythm… I know the GAR has been hit hard these last few months… But we need to keep our heads up and forge ahead. After this meeting, we’ll go back and tell Fox and the others, okay? Maybe we can get you some time to try and contact your batchmates.” “Pitch hasn’t spoken a word since Fives died.”

Thorn frowned. “I don’t think Fox has either… But… He’s got Thire, Stone, Olly, Remedy, Nocte- He has people and hopefully it convinces the di’kut to talk.” Rhythm hummed and leaned in towards Thorn who pulled him in closer. “Come on Rhythm… Where’s your usual energy?” “Lack of sleep does that…” “…Say how about you start shift then… I can let another Officer sleep if you want to work… Keep your mind off of it.” Rhythm thought for a moment, looking at his holopicture and nodded. “Okay…” “We’ll weather that storm you fear together… I won’t leave you, kid. No more tossing and turning.” Thorn smiled as he helped Rhythm up before leading him to the temporary barracks to prepare for duty. Still, Rhythm hoped, Scipio would be a turning point for the Republic, they needed some good news...

Even if that seed of dread sat in his stomach, he’d make sure Thorn would get home too. Then it would be alright;

Right?

#star wars #tcw #commander thorn #communications corrie rhythm #the clone wars #whumptober2022 #Rhythm gets to go to Scipio! I sure hope nothing happens to him :)

[fangirlmedstudentblog]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

I was tagged by @thescrumptiousbooksstuff !!

Three Ships

1. Tinn and Gun (I nearly missed discovering them but thankfully, i started watching MSP and the way these two have a strong grip on my heart 😍😮‍💨😭)

2. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter (I may not have shipped them while reading the books, but reading all the excellent fanfics have changed my mind)

3. Prapai and Sky from Love in the Air (They are WAY too cute and oh to have my very own prapai)

[You know just HOW HARD it is to just list 3 ships, considering just how many i read fanfics for]

First Ever Ship

I mean, my first EVER ship was (still is, to be honest) Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia from Fairy Tail. Fairy Tail was my introduction to world of anime (i considered Pokemon as cartoons as they had eng dub when i watched it) and I still pray for the day they actually become canon.

My first M/M ship? That would probably be Kirk/Spock from the Chris Pine movies (AOS). They might not have had that actual onscreen romance, but their devotion to each other was simply unparalleled.

It's either that or Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale from Teen Wolf. I started shipping them while reading fanfics of them first, then watching Sterek scenes and actually watching the show only a few years ago.

Last Song

Sugar Rush Ride by Tomorrow x Together - This song and Devil by the Window from txt's lovely album The Name Chapter: Temptation have me in a tight grip.

As of writing this post, the song changed to the My School President cover of Just Being Friendly so might as well add that in. Because I LOVE this cover so so much. The MSP soundtrack is probably gonna be my part of most streamed albums this year.

Last Movie

I haven't seen an actual movie in almost 2 months. But I last watched

Matilda: The Musical on Christmas. It was such a good musical, thoroughly enjoyed watching, especially the Revolting Children sequence, it was GLORIOUS (though i still like the old movie better, this was a good nostalgic trip)

Definitely watch if you like Matilda.

Currently Reading

I'm assuming you're asking about actual original books instead of fanfics, right? Because I'm sorry but if so the last actual non fanfic stuff I've read is Davidson's Principles and Practice of Medicine, not kidding.

I'm actually preparing for a very important pg medical exam so it's mostly like mbbs books with fanfics and genshin and some thai bls during breaks.

Currently Consuming

Black Coffee (I'm having french roast americano that i made in my coffee maker at home) and had breakfast just a while back which consisted of paranthas made with radish filling!!

Tagging:

I honestly didn't really expect to make friends on Tumblr because I've always been more of a lurker on this site. But I've found a lot of interesting people. I may tag you but you're in no way obligated to have to answer them, feel free to ignore if you want!

@sarahandtheninjas @theyellowhue @i-che-bi @certainpancake @petrichoraline @randomfandomtraveller @heretherebedork @quodekash @silvercrystal1

#answered #tagged #it was fun doing this! #anntalks #well back to studies i go #Spotify