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pathologicalreid · 9 months ago

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extraordinary measures | s.r.

in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.

The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.

The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”

Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”

The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.

“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.

Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.

He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.

The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.

You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.

He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.

With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”

Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.

“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”

With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”

“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.

Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”

With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.

He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”

“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.

Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”

Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“

“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.

She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”

Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”

Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.

“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.

Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”

Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”

There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”

“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.

Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.

Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”

He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.

“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.

“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”

A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.

Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.

Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.

Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.

Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.

There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.

It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.

Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.

Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.

Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.

He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.

The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.

Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.

Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.

Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.

He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.

Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.

“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.

He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.

You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.

The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.

“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”

Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”

You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”

He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”

Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.

Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”

You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.

Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.

Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.

Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”

He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.

Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.

Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.

Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”

Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”

Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”

Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”

Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.

You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.

“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“

“Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.

His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”

You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.

“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.

Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.

Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.

The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”

“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.

It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.

He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.

“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”

Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”

You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.

He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.

“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.

Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.

He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”

With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.

You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.

“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.

Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”

Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”

“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.

Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.

He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.

Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.

She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head. “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid dilf agenda #written by margot

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howtoimpersonateanadult · 5 months ago

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The hygiene hypothesis is the idea that kids need to be exposed to germs in order to develop healthy immune systems. We know that many common viruses did not circulate as widely during the pandemic, thanks to social distancing, masking, and other COVID mitigation measures. Are there downsides to those missed infections?

In this Q&A, Caitlin Rivers speaks with Marsha Wills-Karp, PhD, MHS, professor and chair of Environmental Health and Engineering, about the role of household microbiomes, birth, and vaccines in the development of kids’ immune systems—and whether early exposure really is the best medicine.

...

I think there’s some concern among parents who have heard about the hygiene hypothesis that there is a downside to all those stuffy noses that didn’t happen [during the COVID-19 pandemic]. Are there any upsides to viral infections? Do they help the immune system in some meaningful way?

I don’t think so.

You mentioned the hygiene hypothesis, which was postulated back in the ‘80s. German scientists noticed that families with fewer children tended to have more allergic disease. This was interpreted [to mean] that allergic disease was linked to experiencing fewer infections. I have explored this idea in my research for a couple of decades now.

This phenomenon has helped us to understand the immune system, but our interpretation of it has grown and expanded—particularly with respect to viruses.

Almost no virus is protective against allergic disease or other immune diseases. In fact, infections with viruses mostly either contribute to the development of those diseases or worsen them.

The opposite is true of bacteria. There are good bacteria and there are bad bacteria. The good bacteria we call commensals. Our bodies actually have more bacterial cells than human cells. What we’ve learned over the years is that the association with family life and the environment probably has more to do with the microbiome. ...

What does contribute to the development of the immune system, if not exposure to viruses?

There are a number of factors that we’ve associated with the hygiene hypothesis over the last 20 years, and these exposures start very early in life.

Cesarean sections, which do not allow the baby to travel through the birth canal and get exposed to the mother’s really healthy bacterial content, is a risk factor for many different immune diseases.

Getting that early seeding with good bacteria is critical for setting up the child going forward. Breastfeeding also contributes to the development of a healthy immune system.

There are other factors. Our diets have changed dramatically over the years. We eat a lot of processed food that doesn’t have the normal components of a healthy microbiome, like fiber.

These healthy bacteria in our gut need that fiber to maintain themselves. They not only are important for our immune system but they’re absolutely critical to us deriving calories and nutrients from our food. All these things contribute to a healthy child.

We’ve also noticed that people who live on farms have fewer of these diseases because they’re exposed to—for lack of a better term—the fecal material of animals. And what we have found is that it’s due to these commensal bacteria. That is one of the components that help us keep a healthy immune system. Most of us will probably not adopt farm life. But we can have a pet, we can have a dog.

I think all the pet lovers out there will be pleased to hear that.

There’s a lot of evidence that owning a pet in early childhood is very protective.

What about the idea that you need to be exposed to viruses in early life because if you get them as an adult, you’ll get more severely ill? We know that’s true for chickenpox, for example. Do you have any concerns about that?

We should rely on vaccines for those exposures because we can never predict who is going to be susceptible to severe illness, even in early childhood. If we look back before vaccines, children under 4 often succumbed to infections. I don’t think we want to return to that time in history.

Let me just give you one example. There’s a virus called RSV, it’s a respiratory virus. Almost all infants are positive for it by the age of 2. But those who get severe disease are more likely to develop allergic disease and other problems. So this idea that we must become infected with a pathogenic virus to be healthy is not a good one.

Even rhinovirus, which is the common cold, most people recover fine. But there’s a lot of evidence that for somebody who is allergic, rhinovirus exposures make them much worse. In fact, most allergic or asthmatic kids suffer through the winter months when these viruses are more common.

And that’s particularly salient because there is a lot of rhinovirus and enterovirus circulating right now.

From my point of view, right now, avoiding flu and COVID-19 is a priority.

Those are not going to help you develop a healthy immune response, and in fact, they can do a lot of damage to the lungs during that critical developmental time.

Data [show] that children that have more infections in the first 6 months to a year of life go on to have more problems.

It’s always surprising to me when I look at the data of the fraction of time that young children spend with these common colds—and this is pre-pandemic—it’s not uncommon for kids to be sick 50% of the time. That feels right as a parent, but it’s startling.

The other thing people don’t know is that the GI tract is where you get tolerized to all of your foods, allergens and things. Without those healthy bacteria in your gut, you can’t tolerate common allergens.

How does that relate to the guidance that’s changed over the years—that you should withhold peanuts in early life and now you’re supposed to offer them in early life?

The guidance to delay exposure to peanuts didn’t consider the fact that oral exposure to peanuts was not the only exposure kids were getting. There were peanut oils in all kinds of skin creams and other things.

So kids got exposed through their skin, but they had no gut protection—and the GI tract is important for a tolerant system. If you have a healthy immune response, you get tolerized in early life.

This concept is a little bit different for those families who may already have a predisposition to allergies. But for the general public, exposure is key to protecting them in early life.

I think some parents look at the guidance that you should now offer peanuts in early life and say, “Are we not doing that with rhinovirus by masking kids or improving ventilation?”

How should people think about the development of the immune system for food allergies compared to infections?

The thing about rhinoviruses is that after recovering, you’re not protected from the next infection. There is no real immune protection there. Most of us suffer from colds throughout our whole life.

Like I said, bacterial exposure is what’s key to priming the immune response.

Also, we forget that a lot of kids die from the flu... RSV, too, can be quite severe in young children and older adults.

#emphasis mine #also ty to @covid-safer-hotties for posting a link to this article which is how I found it! just wanted it by itself as well #childcare #parenting #body care

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astromancy-divinare · 9 months ago

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Every relationship & marriage you'll ever have is predestined in your natal chart. Don't believe me?

Here are the 7 Upapada Lagnas that accurately describe each of Elizabeth Taylor's 7 marriages from her sidereal natal chart.

Elizabeth Taylor was technically married 8 times but she had 7 husbands. She married actor Richard Burton twice.

The Upapada Lagna is a Vedic astrology technique that reveals details about your future marriage. Your Upapada Lagna can tell you how you'll meet your spouse, what the quality of the marriage will be, whether or not you'll have children together and the longevity of the marriage. This technique is best used in the sidereal natal chart, also known as the D1 natal chart. You must use Whole Sign house system.

To find the first Upapada Lagna in Elizabeth Taylor's D1 natal chart, we locate how many houses away the 12th house lord is from the 12th house. Her 12th house is in Libra. Venus is in the 5th house, so the 12th house lord is 6 houses away. We then count 6 houses from the 12th house lord in the 5th house and end up in Leo in the 10th house.

In Vedic astrology lagna is another word for ascendant, therefore the Upapada Lagna is considered to be the "1st house" of the marriage. We can move the house the Upapada Lagna is in to the 1st house position by selecting it in the 1st House From option above the chart on Astro-Seek.com. The natal chart will then be turned and we'll be able to read this "new chart" to get information regarding her first marriage.

TW: Mention of DV and miscarriage.

1st Upapada Lagna: Leo 10H

First husband: Conrad "Nicky" Hilton Jr. Wedding: May 6, 1950

Neptune is in the Upapada Lagna in Leo: Nicky was a violent alcoholic, which Elizabeth didn't discover until shortly after they got married. The way he portrayed himself beforehand was an illusion. Neptune = addiction & illusion.

Neptune is opposing Sun in the 7th house: The marriage was a disappointment that left Elizabeth feeling disillusioned.

Neptune is opposing Mars in the 7th house: Nicky was very insecure, which made him act aggressively to make up for it.

Malefic planets Sun and Mars are in the 7th house: Divorce indicator.

7th house lord is in the 6th house: Divorce indicator.

5th house lord is in the 12th house: Elizabeth suffered a miscarriage after Nicky kicked her in the stomach. 5th house = children. 12th house = loss.

The house next to the Upapada Lagna shows the longevity of the marriage.

Ketu is in the next house in Virgo: This is a divorce indicator. Ketu is considered to be a malefic planet because it represents detachment.

2nd Upapada Lagna: Pisces 5H

Second husband: Michael Wilding Wedding: February 21, 1952

To find the next Upapada Lagna we count 8 houses away from the first Upapada Lagna and end up in Pisces in the 5th house.

Rahu is in the Upapada Lagna in Pisces: Rahu can represent a spouse from a foreign country. Michael was from England. Having Rahu in the Upapada Lagna is also an indicator of divorce.

Uranus is conjunct Venus in the Upapada Lagna in Pisces: This conjunction can indicate that there was something unusual about the marriage. Michael was 20 years older than her. She was 20 when they got married.

Ketu is in the 7th house: Divorce indicator.

4th house lord is in the 12th house: Divorce indicator.

Cancer is in the 5th house with Jupiter: Elizabeth gave birth to two sons. 5th house = children, Jupiter = male offspring.

5th house lord is in the 8th house: Elizabeth had a cesarean section for both of her pregnancies. 8th house = surgery.

1st house lord is in the 5th house: This marriage was destined to produce children.

The house next to the Upapada Lagna shows the longevity of the marriage.

2nd house lord is in the 12th house: Divorce indicator.

3rd Upapada Lagna: Libra 12H

Third husband: Mike Todd Wedding: February 2, 1957

Moon is in the Upapada Lagna in Libra: This was a happy, loving marriage. Moon is the lord of the 10th house, which means they were both very loyal and dedicated to each other.

8th house lord, Venus, is in the 6th house conjunct Uranus: The 6th house is associated with the loss of marriage because it's 12 houses away from the 7th house. The 8th house is associated with sudden events and death. The 8th house lord is conjunct Uranus in the 6th house, which indicates that the marriage ended suddenly and unexpectedly. The marriage ended when Mike was killed in a plane crash.

Sun, Mars and Mercury are in the 5th house in Aquarius: Elizabeth gave birth to a daughter in this marriage. The 5th house lord is in Capricorn, which indicates that the child born from this marriage would be a girl. Sun and Mars in the 5th house represent Elizabeth's two sons from her previous marriage. The 9th house represents the third child and its lord Mercury is also in the 5th house, representing her daughter from this marriage.

The house next to the Upapada Lagna shows the longevity of the marriage.

2nd house lord is in the 5th house: Mars is the lord of the 2nd house and it's in the 5th house conjunct Mercury. Mars is the significator for accidents and Mercury is the significator for air travel = The marriage ended when Mike was killed in a plane crash.

4th Upapada Lagna: Taurus 7H

Fourth husband: Eddie Fisher Wedding: May 12, 1959

Upapada Lagna lord, Venus, is in the 11th house conjunct Uranus: The 11th house is considered to be the 5th house from the 7th house and therefore can represent affairs. This marriage began as an affair after Elizabeth's third husband died. She and her third husband Mike Todd were friends with Eddie Fisher and his wife Debbie Reynolds (Carrie Fisher's parents, AKA Princess Leia). After Mike died, Eddie comforted Elizabeth and it resulted in them having an affair. Eddie quickly divorced Debbie and married Elizabeth.

Upapada Lagna lord, Venus, is in the 11th house squaring the 7th house co-lord Pluto in the 2nd house: Pluto represents sex, secrets, death and transformation. And the house next to the Upapada Lagna shows the longevity of the marriage, so to have Pluto in that house shows that this marriage began as an affair due to the death of Elizabeth's previous husband, but it also shows that this marriage ended because of an affair Elizabeth had later on with her next husband Richard Burton.

7th house co-lord Ketu is in the 5th house and its dispositor Mercury is in the 10th house: Elizabeth's affair with Eddie Fisher and later her affair with Richard Burton were both VERY public and much talked about.

Ketu is in Virgo in the 5th house: Ketu in the 5th house can indicate adoption and having Mercury or Saturn as the 5th house lord can also indicate adoption. Elizabeth began the process to adopt an orphaned girl from Germany while she was still married to Eddie. She completed the adoption process with her next husband Richard Burton.

5th Upapada Lagna: Sagittarius 2H

Fifth husband: Richard Burton Wedding: March 15, 1964

Upapada Lagna is in Sagittarius: This can indicate a spouse from a foreign country. Richard was from Wales.

Saturn is in Capricorn in the house next to the Upapada Lagna: Saturn can make the couple stay together for a long time when it's in the house next to the Upapada Lagna, especially when it's in the sign it rules. This was Elizabeth's longest marriage. They were married for 10 years and then divorced in 1974 but remarried in 1975 and divorced for the final time in 1976. This Upapada Lagna represents both marriages because Elizabeth wasn't with anyone else in between.

This Upapada Lagna is in Elizabeth's natal 2nd house: This shows that her affair with Richard Burton was the cause for her last marriage with Eddie Fisher ending.

Pluto is in the 7th house in Gemini: This can indicate a powerful and intoxicating romance that is also prone to major transformative highs and lows. Elizabeth had a tumultuous yet passionate relationship with Richard. They had irresistible chemistry with each other. Richard was the second love of her life after Mike Todd who died in a plane crash.

4th house lord is in the 8th house: Divorce indicator.

6th house lord is in the 4th house: Divorce indicator.

6th Upapada Lagna: Cancer 9H

Sixth husband: John Warner Wedding: December 4, 1976

Upapada Lagna lord is in the 4th house: This placement indicates there being a necessity to keep the identity and personality of the marriage and/or spouses private. John Warner was a senator for Virginia at the time and Elizabeth was told to "tone down" her personality and the way she presented herself for the sake of his political career. She was told to get rid of her yacht and Rolls-Royce and to change the way she dressed. She was specifically told to never wear her favorite color purple because it represented royalty and she wasn't supposed to outshine John.

Neptune is in the house next to the Upapada Lagna: Having to fill the role of a senator's supportive wife and hob-knob in Washington D.C. made her incredibly depressed and disillusioned. Elizabeth later said that being a senator's wife turned her into a "drunk and a junkie." Neptune = alcohol/drugs/addiction.

Saturn is in the 7th house in Capricorn: Elizabeth wanted someone to help her get over Richard Burton and she thought she wanted the "normal" life of a farmer's wife (John had a farm) but she soon realized that lifestyle was incredibly restrictive. The marriage felt very Saturnian.

6th house lord is in the Upapada Lagna: This marriage was mostly for the benefit of John's career because Elizabeth brought him a lot more attention and star power. He needed her help in his 1978 bid for Virginia's U.S. Senate seat. Voters clamored to meet her at political rallies.

8th house lord is in the 7th house: Divorce indicator.

2nd house lord is conjunct a malefic planet: Divorce indicator.

7th Upapada Lagna: Aquarius 4H

Seventh husband: Larry Fortensky Wedding: October 6, 1991

Upapada Lagna is in natal 4th house: This was Elizabeth's last marriage, so it's fitting that the Upapada Lagna is in her natal 4th house because the 4th house represents "the end."

Neptune is in the 7th house: Larry was a construction worker that Elizabeth met in rehab. Neptune = addiction.

Malefic planets Sun and Mars are in the Upapada Lagna and are opposing Neptune in the 7th house: Having malefic planets in the Upapada Lagna can create obstacles in the marriage that lead to divorce. Sun and Mars are opposing Neptune in the 7th house = Elizabeth got a divorce because Larry started drinking again and her friends were unimpressed by him.

Saturn is in the 12th house: Elizabeth and Larry met at rehab. The theme of their marriage was trying to stay sober. Saturn = restriction, 12th house = addiction.

Rahu is in the house next to the Upapada Lagna: Divorce indicator.

Uranus conjunct Venus is in the house next to the Upapada Lagna: The differences between Elizabeth and Larry in age, career and life experiences were too vast and too many, which also led them to divorce.

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madamechrissy · 10 months ago

Text

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- medical procedures mentioned (nothing too graphic) slight scare about reader's health, emotional, married sex, breeding kink, cunnilingus, blow job, overstim, explicit sex

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Finished fic

Epilogue II - Masterlist - Playlist

Final Epilogue

“So… it’s been fourteen hours and no dilation. And the baby's heart rate is really high, so is yours, mom.” Comes the doctor’s voice, a sweet woman you’d had all of your pregnancy. Your heart drops at that. “We need to do a Cesarean.”

“Caesar who!?” Comes Gojo’s voice, panicking as he sits next to you, holding your hand with a death grip.

“Satoru… God. It’s a C-section.” Shoko's voice came in, as she, Suguru and Masako all sat there in the chairs across the room, as Gojo’s blue eyes went wide.

“Like… cut her open!?” He glares at the doctor, and you touch his face gently, smiling up at him.

“Satoru, the baby is most important. Gotta get her out safely.” You murmur to him, he blinks at that, looking into your eyes, and you see his jaw clench, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

“They’re safe, Satoru, I had one with you.” Masako comes up then, brushing Satoru’s silky white hair back, which was messy from the hours he’d been by your side, all night, all day.

“I don’t want her to… what if…” He stands then, pacing, and Suguru comes up to him, patting his shoulder.

“Hey, she needs you there with her. It’ll be fine, you got this.” Satoru buries his face in his hand, and Shoko comes up to him then too.

“They’re very common, don’t worry. Great doctors here. She’ll be fine.” Masako caresses your cheek as they talk to Satoru, and you feel your tummy clench tight then, crying silently.

“Are you okay, darling?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“Pain… bad.” Is all you manage, you’d been in some pain but since the epidural you had been decent, but now?

Satoru runs to you then, and you see tears glistening on his pale cheeks, as he puts a hand on your swollen tummy. “Baby girl, you okay?”

“Hurts…” Is all you manage, and then the Doctor comes back in.

“Your contractions are going crazy, and the heart rates. We are all prepped to take you back.” She comes and holds your hand, smiling reassuringly. “We’ll make sure you get your baby girl soon.”

“It’s because you’re too big and tall. Dick.” You whisper out, crying in pain, and he laughs, emotionally, kissing your forehead.

“You’re too tiny, can’t even pop a kid out.” You glare, then you both snort in laughter, until the pain and pressure is too much, and you hiss.

“Only one person can come back, are you going with her, Dad?” The doctor asks Satoru, and he nods eagerly.

“Of course I am.”

“Don’t faint, Satoru.” Shoko shouts, he sticks his tongue out, and they begin to suit him up in sterile gear.

Suguru comes up and brushes your sweaty hair back, holding your hand tightly as Gojo gets ready. “You’ll do fine, love. Promise.”

“Thank you so much for being here, Suguru.”

“Of course, that’s my godchild there.” He carefully touches your tummy, his dark eyes growing dreamy then.

“Thinking about having one of your own?” You tease quietly, and watch his cheeks turn pink a bit.

“Yeah, maybe I am.”

“You two would be great parents, promise. I better be the godmother, though.” He smirks, leaning down and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“ Of course you will be. We’re talking about it for now. But… I’m pretty active in making it happen.”

You giggle, then gasp in pain, and Satoru is back with you two. Suguru puts an arm around Satoru then. “You got this, both of you.”

Shoko and Masako come and kiss you too. “I’m having a smoke, I’ll be back to see this baby!”

“I’m going out too. I need to update my girl.” Suguru says, and you nod. Masako just smiles.

“I’m grabbing coffee. See you two soon.” She hugs Satoru tightly, and then you all are getting carted into the bright operating room.

“It’s freezing…” You whisper, as they pump you more, and then your entire lower body is numb, a white curtain placed up. You start to panic somewhat, your chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Baby girl, I’m right here. Look at me.” You stare up at Satoru, covered in a blue smock and latex gloves, he holds your hand tightly, a hand that’s going numb. “It’s all going to be okay, promise.”

“I’m scared, Satoru.” You whisper, tears falling, he kisses you sweetly, as several doctors and nurses surround you, metal clanking, instruments being used. You’re panicking but he’s cupping your face.

“I am too.” He admits, tears making those beautiful eyes you love glisten. “We’ll be scared together?”

You nod, choking on a sob then. “Do you want to take a look, Mr. Gojo?”

Gojo panics. “Oh no… what if I pass out!? And miss the baby!”

You giggle at that, and he glares. “Don’t wanna see my insides?” You whisper, he rolls his eyes.

“Already fucked em up-”

“Ahem. Mr. Gojo?” He winces, looking back at your face.

“Okay but if I pass out, adrenaline me or something.” You giggle again, as he still holds your hand as he stands, peaking over the curtain. “Oh shit!”

“Oh god… what!?” You tense, and he peeks back at you, grinning with his shimmery white teeth.

“I’m seeing all of you. Like all your insides!”

“Toru…”

“Oooh, that’s what part doc?”

“Intestines here. This is her liver.”

“All the way up there!?”

“Babies push organs up. And here… is the uterus.”

“Holy fuck, the baby is in there!”

You lay behind the curtain, blinking up and feeling odd hints of things, but you’re mostly numb, then…

“Gonna feel some pressure hunnie.” The nurse says next to you, and you nod, as Gojo peeks back at you.

“Baby this is really cool.” You snort, shaking your head at him.

“Thought you were scared?”

“Nah… oh my god!” You hear a little whine then, and your eyes fill with hot sticky tears, your heart fluttering with excitement, with love.

“Want to cut the cord, Mr. Gojo?” You wish you could see something, you see Gojo’s spiky white hair for a moment as he bends over.

“Like… right here?”

“Right there. Perfect.” You hear a clip of scissors, and then, a cry, a beautiful little cry.

“Oh my god, she’s so perfect.” You hear Gojo whisper, and then he laughs, looking down at the baby.

“Let me see, let me see!” You whine out, and then Satoru finally brings her around the curtain, your little girl.

“Oh my god…” You can’t sit, you just lay there, as he sits next to you, all wrapped up in a little white thin blanket. She has a beautiful, perfect little face, a head full of dark hair, more like yours, and then she opens her eyes, and… “She has your eyes, Toru, oh look!”

He leans over and looks then, as your baby squints against the bright lights, and her eyes are glittering blue, as brilliant as Satoru’s, if not just a little darker blue. Her perfect cupid's bow of a mouth is opening and closing, and you gently caress her chubby little cheeks.

“Hey, baby girl, you’re here. Welcome to the world.” Gojo murmurs next to you, and your heart is so full you think it will burst, looking at the two loves of your life right in front of you.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much already.” You whisper, and your eyes lock with Satoru’s.

“She has your hair, and your nose.” He whispers, tapping her little nose, then yours, kissing you then, tasting your salty tears.

“Your eyes, and your lips.” You whisper back, and your little baby whines a bit, then yawns, closing her eyes again. “I love her so much. So much, it hurts. Ugh, just look at her! It’s our baby , Toru!”

He grins, but his face is streaked with tears, as he holds her back against his chest, carefully caressing her tiny cheek. The sight of Satoru holding your tiny baby in his big arms shatters you further. God you’ve never been so happy, so thrilled… and honestly, as exhausted as you were, you’re full of happiness.

“You’re so tiny and cute, like a little dumpling!” Gojo says, and the nurses coo and giggle too now, along with you. “I’ll call ya dumpling, yes I will.”

“Toru, you’re so cute.” You gently brush a weak hand down his arm. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed with excitement, his face not stopping that grin.

“Gonna spoil the fuck out of you, dumpling. So pretty like your mama, aren’t you sweet girl?”

The nurse chuckles then, looking at the three of you. “She’s definitely got mom’s hair and dad’s eyes, doesn’t she? All right, let’s get her cleaned up and checked out, and we’ll bring her to you soon, okay?”

They take her away, which makes you panic, but then Gojo sits down by you, his eyes still wide. “You did so good, baby girl. Look how beautiful you are, even now.” He brushes your hair back on your damp forehead, pecking your lips. “Saw all your insides now too.”

You laugh, then wince, feeling the doctor tugging and stitching now, you start to feel a little woozy. “Don’t worry, you’re almost done, hunnie. Doing great.”

“Thanks, Doc.” You whisper, and Gojo squeezes your hand tightly, watching you with some concern now.

“Baby, you okay? You’re so pale.”

“I’m… just tired, babe.” Satoru frowns at that.

“She’s losing a little too much blood.” You hear, and your ears are ringing, as Gojo tenses against you.

The room is cold, the lights are so bright, and you’re tired, so tired suddenly. “Mr. Gojo, can you sign for her to have a blood transfusion?”

“What’s wrong!?” He’s panicking, and you’re fading, then he calms himself, nodding, and signs everything quickly, big hand on your forehead, the other holding one of your limp hands, kissing it. “Baby, stay with me, focus. Please.”

You struggle to hold your eyes open. “She may faint, but she’s fine, promise, it’s just taken a lot out of her.” The nurse comes to pat Gojo’s shoulder, and you hear him frantically saying your name, but it’s just an echo almost.

“Transfusion ready. She’ll be fine soon, Mr. Gojo.” You think you hear that, but your head is pulsing, and it takes everything to keep your lidded eyes on your husband’s perfect face, not wanting to scare him.

“Toru…” You whisper, and he’s right on you, foreheads touching, hands cupping your face.

“Beautiful, I love you so much. So much. Please be okay. Please… baby girl, can’t live without you.” His tears fall down your face, dripping hot against your chilled skin, you struggle to speak.

“I’ll be fine, babe… promise. Just… sleepy.” He’s sniffling, face all red, and you want to touch his face, but your arms just fall when you try. “Can I go to sleep for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, of course you can.”

“Don’t leave me, Satoru… please stay.” You’re mumbling now.

“I won’t baby girl. Right by your side.” He kisses you deeply, and you feel warm then, with his love, against the chill of the room, of your body, then the bright lights dim and you feel exhaustion and weakness drag you off.

***

The next thing you know, you’re waking up in a new room, a softer light than the operating room, it’s quiet and dimly lit, warmer. Gojo’s right there as you blink him into focus, in a chair bent awkwardly holding your hand, his head on your bed, sleeping with his mouth open.

You smile, gently brushing his soft white hair back, and see your baby is in a bassinet next to you, wrapped up tight, and she’s snuffling, a bit fussy. You feel a lot better now, a lot warmer, but you look down at yourself, a bunch of tubes and wires attached, making you wince a bit, especially when you start feeling a gnawing pain in your tummy.

You try to sit up, but it’s hard, so you gently shake Gojo awake. “Satoru?” You whisper, and he jolts up, looking down at you, blue eyes wide.

“Baby girl, you’re okay! Thank god!” He leans over and kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, every inch of your face. You eagerly kiss him back, wrapping your arms weakly around his neck “You scared me so much, fuck…”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, Toru.” You whisper, smiling up at him, seeing a little drool out of his mouth, and bags under his eyes. You wipe him a bit. “How long was I out for? You look exhausted.”

“Six hours.” You blink at that. “Yeah, Shoko, mom and Sugu will be back in the morning, they saw her though! I got pictures.”

You feel emotional then. “I wish I could have…”

“Baby, your body needed rest. It’s fine. Look.” He whips his smart phone out, showing you Shoko holding her, then Sugu, then Masako. All of them looked so happy it made fresh tears fall. “They didn’t wanna leave but, visiting hours and all that, only I could stay.”

“I missed it all.” He sighs, tilting your chin up. “I haven’t even gotten to hold her yet really, I failed at the whole baby having-”

“Shut it, brat. Now.” You sniffle, and he puts his hand gently on your tummy. “You almost died having her, and she is perfect . Perfectly healthy. I almost lost you .”

“Satoru… it wasn’t so serious was it?”

He looks at you, and you see it all over his face. “Your vitals dropped when you fainted, it was… I mean they told me it would be fine, but it was terrifying. Once they got you another transfusion you got stable, and they brought you here, but…”

“I’m so sorry you had to see all that!”

“Sorry? You did everything to have this baby. I’m proud of you.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “I am proud of you. Fucking badass.”

He pecks kisses on your sticky cheeks. “Badass, huh, I fainted!”

“You’re tough, trust me, I saw them… yeah that shit was crazy. Everything was everywhere. How do you feel by the way?”

“Awful. Like someone stabbed me.” He leans over and presses the button attached to you, then you moan, as everything relaxes. “Whass that… Toru?”

“Morphine drip. Press it when it hurts.” He smirks at you then. “Oh fuck, they should hook me up!”

“Hush...” You giggle, then you hear it, the faint little cry, and then look at your baby. “Can I hold her, Toru?”

He nods eagerly, standing up and carefully picking her up, placing her in your arms, which isn’t easy with all the wires, but Satoru is delicate in how he moves them. She’s so light, so tiny, and her eyes open and look at you, those brilliant blue eyes, searching. You stroke her cheek, and she calms immediately.

“I’m so happy you’re in my arms, sweet baby. I love you, I love you so much.” You’re stroking her head, and Satoru watches you with a smile.

“Can I take a pic for everyone? They were really upset when they didn’t see you earlier. Also your brothers have been freaking out.” You nod then, swiping your eyes, and Satoru takes a picture of you and your little baby. “Beautiful girls of mine.”

“Oh I don’t wanna know what I look like.”

“You look beautiful, my sweet girls.” He kisses her, then you gently. “I’m sending these to them, they will be so happy you’re up.”

You nod. “Little Rai, I love you so much.” You whisper to her again, then feel emotional saying the name, gulping.

“Your mom would love her, yeah?” Satoru says softly, and you nod, feeling that ache in your chest. “And your dad.”

“They would, thank you for letting me name her after my mom, Toru.” He shakes his head at that.

“Of course, baby girl. I love it. It’s special.” He kisses you as Rai begins nuzzling into your chest, and you realize she’s looking for something.

“Hungry, little one?” You whisper, and she starts rooting, opening that perfect mouth and you can feel your breasts fill with milk. “Think she’ll latch? I am sure she had bottles.” Satoru leans forward, untying your hospital gown then, and revealing your too full breasts.

“Doc said to try, and if not, you can pump or we can just do the formula.” His eyes go wide as he looks at your breasts. “They’re so huge, holy-”

“Satoru!” He grins, then shakes his head, and you giggle, as you gently cradle Rai in your arms, and she starts rooting until she hits your nipple.

“Look, you’re a natural, baby girl.” Gojo whispers, his eyes on yours, so full of love and amazement then.

You start to laugh, but it turns into a wince as that pain twinges. “It hurts, oh fuck… it hurts.”

“Doc said it’ll hurt to cough, sneeze, laugh all that. Gotta put a pillow… here.” He takes a pillow and presses it on your tummy. “Hold it there and it’ll help when you need it, until you heal some.”

“Satoru… I fucking love you.” You whisper, and he smirks.

“Of course you do.” You giggle and he presses the pillow. “Is it a little better like that?” You nod. “Good. Look at her, she’s going for it!”

You smile, wincing as she grabs your breast with her little nails, and then bites down with her gums. “Oof! She’s vicious!”

“Like her dad huh.” He sits there with his chin on his hands, and you snort, rolling your eyes, and you look down at her, stroking her downy hair, watching her tiny mouth suckle, and she’s so beautiful.

“Beautiful like her dad.”

“Like her mom.”

You both smile, and he holds her head gently with one big hand, the other brushing your hair back gently. You lean back against the pillows, feeling your strength come back to you with every beat of your heart, with every breath you take for your baby. You look down at her, a perfect little doll, so fragile, so new to the world.

“Thank you, for taking care of her. For staying by my side. I’m so sorry it scared you so much.” He shakes his head, coming to sit next to you on the bed, holding you both close, as he kisses your temple.

“No need to thank me, baby girl, this is my life right here. You and my little dumpling are my everything.”

“Oh, Toru…” Eventually Rai is fast asleep, milk drunk, and you look up at Satoru then. “Can I please… wash up?”

He laughs at that. “Let me call the nurse.”

They let Satoru help you shower, and then when you see yourself…

“I feel like a cow, ugh.”

“You’ll slim down quickly, running around my office yelling at me before the blink of an eye! Back in one of your preppy little business outfits.”

“You’re so positive . Ugh. I love that…” He laughs, washing you gently, as he bends down between your legs, holding your thighs.

“You just almost died having our baby, don’t need you worrying about your appearance right now. You’re always the most beautiful brat to me.” The hot water sprays as he kisses you gently.

“Love you, Toru.”

“Love you, whiny baby.”

You sigh, shaking your head, then let him continue to take care of you. You finally get to put on clothes, and he helps you, pushing your morphine button up as the nurse checks you out, pressing on your tummy and taking your blood pressure. Satoru is by your side, and then when it’s time to rest, he decides to climb in the hospital bed right with you.

“Sleep, baby girl. I’m right here.”

“Thank you, Toru… love you.”

“Love you, little brat. Sweet dreams.”

You fall blissfully asleep in Satoru’s arms, as your baby is in her little bassinet, exhaustion taking over you.

***

Three weeks Later

“Hey, don’t be trying to work damn brat! Not yet.” You turn, baby strapped to your chest as you’re trying to help Satoru fix the crappy presentation he’s attempted, and his desk is such a mess, you gotta clean it.

“Let me help, please, I am more than capable of working again you know.” He glares at you then, coming behind you and pressing on your tummy, now almost flat again, but still a little sore. You wince.

“Shouldn’t be working for two more weeks at earliest. Doctor said so. You hurt, don’t you?” He demands, and you huff.

“No, fine really. At least let me come for like an hour or two a day! You’re so far behind…”

“And it can fucking stay behind. I’m having Kiyotaka take you home, stubborn brat.” You scowl back at him, and then Rai starts whining, and you sigh, brushing her hair back gently.

“Let me help a bit, then I’ll leave for the day, promise.” He scoffs, shaking his head, and for a moment you’re enamored by how good he looks in that suit. Fuck… how long had it been?

“Hey, can I hold the baby? Give you a break?” Shoko knocks on the open door of Gojo’s office, and you nod, smiling gratefully.

“Don’t encourage her, less than a month? She needs to be home.”

“She’s not running on a treadmill, Gojo. Just some office stuff. Maybe she misses her husband?” You blink at that, because fuck that’s true. Gojo had been doing insane overtime to cover for you both, Miwa helped as much as she could but you were the main one that ran his businesses.

“Thank you, Shoko. Here is her bottle and paci. If she goes to the bathroom just bring her to me!”

“Nonsense, gimme that diaper bag. I need a break anyway.” You kiss her cheek, sighing and smiling gratefully. “Let’s show you off, Rai!”

She shuts the door behind herself, leaving you with a fuming Satoru Gojo. “You’re pale, you shouldn’t be straining yourself.”

“I have to get up and do things, it’s how I’ll heal. It’s almost a month now. Two more weeks I’m cleared for… all kinds of things.” You look heatedly up to his blue eyes then, and he pauses, as you step close to him, yanking his blue tie so that he leaned down over you.

“It’s killing me.” He whispers then, hands gripping your ass, lifting you up high, you cry out at it. “I hate not being able to fuck that perfect pussy.”

“I can now, I swear I feel good.” Your hand runs down his crisp business shirt, and you watch his eyes get blown out from desire.

“No, ya can’t yet. I can eat you out though.” You tense at that, rushing wetness between your thighs, throat going dry. “Flip my blinds.”

You tentatively go to push the button, turning back, and he’s there, picking you up in his strong arms, kissing you deeply, and you match it, stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. You all have had no time, even when he’s home, you’re up half the night with the baby, and most day’s you’re both so tired you just pass out.

Plus, you’re not supposed to fuck yet but…

“I need you, Toru.” You whisper, and he groans, picking you up and laying you on his little couch on the other wall, unbuttoning your blouse and moaning as he opens it, seeing your lush breasts.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” He kisses down one, until he gets to your peak, sucking it and making you cry out, shoving your hand on your mouth, you’re so sensitive. He laps you up, squeezing the other, and it’s squirting milk now. You squeal, mortified.

“Oh shit, sorry…” He grins, licking it up, and moaning.

“It’s so sweet though, lemme clean it up.” He squeezes them again, squishing in his big hands, and laps your nipples up. You cry out, gripping his hair tightly, hips arching up, grinding against his hard thigh in his slacks.

“Fuck… feels s’good, mmh!” You get slick between your thighs, and he groans as he feels your heat, slamming his mouth down on yours.

“So hot for me, aren’t you baby?” You nod, eagerly, and he grips your hips tightly, ones you think are too wide now.

“These hips , fuck you’re sexy.” You melt, as he rids you of any insecurity you could ever have, and then he’s unzipping your skirt, you tremble when he gets you down to your panties, as he kisses down your tummy.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.” You whisper, so he pauses, looking up and scowling at you.

“You’re beautiful, fucking brat. Got it? Every inch. Here.” He kisses your belly button, which just wasn’t shaped the same, then kisses you where you have little white stretchies on your skin from Rai. “Here. Here. All perfect.”

“You’re perfect. You.”

“And you’re perfect. These are from having my baby. And you look crazy good for just having one, by the way.” He slides off your panties then, your scar already has faded, but you have some skin and… “God you’re so fucking sexy.”

You whimper, and he spreads your thighs, kissing the inner parts, tickling you as his soft white hair falls over his face. You brush it back, gasping. “Mmm, thank you Toru…”

“Don’t thank me till I get this pretty pussy off.” You cover your moan with your hand when he tastes you, for the first time in almost two months, and you’re so sensitive your hips buck up, and you’re soaked already. “So wet for me, you’re still my little slut, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck .” He slides his tongue up your slit, and you’re shaking as it hits you, waves of pleasure and desire for your husband, your Satoru. “Yes, I still am. A slut just for you. ”

He groans at that, vibrating against your puffy clit, then he’s devouring you, tongue flicking quick and then slow, fingers pulling your lips apart to lave you up deeper, and you’re so close it’s insane. You start gripping his hair, pulling it, making him moan again, as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth, soft wet tongue flicking it over and over, you start falling apart.

“Cumming… cumming!” You whisper out, and he grabs the fat of your ass, dragging you even closer, lapping up the crazy wetness, sounds in his little office so lewd.

“Cum all over my face, pretty little brat. Now.” He orders, eyes peeking up, though you can barely see him with your breasts these days, but you manage to, and his gorgeous blue eyes as his tongue slides up you?

Fuck.

You fall apart, gushing all over his perfect, pretty face, pain twinging in your tummy just a bit from the pressure, but it’s so good you can’t take it. You’re holding onto his shoulders, gripping tight as he drinks you in, licking you through your orgasm until you’re dangerously close to another. You feel yourself tensing, that pressure coming back again.

“Ngh, t’much… Toruu !” You’re whining, nonsensically, and you see him rubbing his cock over his slacks, making you even more turned on, you bite your lip, and see stars as he gets you to cum on him again, crying out.

“So fucking wet, yummy little cunt.” He laps you up, smacking kisses on your clit, on your lips, you struggle to gain composure, whining and dragging him up, kissing him and tasting your essence on his full lips.

“Fuck me, Toru, please .” You beg, and he groans, shaking his head, making you pout. “Please, just go gentle. I know you want to.”

“No, brat. Too much too soon. I’ll eat you out more-”

“Want you in me .” He sighs, shaking his head again as you kiss, as you reach down over his pants and rub his hard length.

“GIve it a little longer, like a few days even. I’m worried about hurting you.”

“Let me suck you off.” He blinks at that, cheeks flushed.

“I’ll be fine, just let me take care of you for once. You do enough for us okay?” He kisses your hand then. “Like when’s the last time you did your nails? Or did anything for just yourself?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Exactly. You go out with one of the girls and do your nails tomorrow. And if you do, and you relax, then I’ll fuck you this weekend.”

“You’re pushing self care on me?” He grins, nodding, and you feel emotion prick your eyes. “Fine, that sounds nice… but on one condition. Let’s go on a date this weekend?”

“A date?” You nod. “Okay but who’s watching Rai?”

“Hmm…” There is a knock on the door, and Satoru helps you get dressed quickly, lapping your nipples one more time with a grin before buttoning you up.

“Come on in.” Nanami walks in, holding Rai in his arms, and you melt at the sight, he’s so huge and so gentle. Rai is giggling and reaching for his face. You and Satoru grin at each other then.

“I was gonna ask you guys, need a sitter?” You jump up, running to Nanami and hugging him and Rai. He awkwardly pats your back.

“You are a lifesaver, Nanami Kento. I was just saying we really need a night alone!”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all. But I asked because my wife really has been wanting to babysit her. She saw a pic of me and Rai just now and lost it.” You grin at that, Nanami’s wife was newly pregnant now.

“Of course, good practice too.” Satoru comes and puts his big hand on your back, burning your skin. “You all can come stay at our place for the night? Friday if that works?”

“Absolutely. She’s going crazy over this baby you know. She’s only a couple months along but she’s lapping up anything baby related.” You laugh at that, caressing Rai’s head.

“You’re good with her too. You all will be great.”

“Will your girl do her nails with this brat tomorrow too?” Gojo asks, ruffling your hair and making you glare. Nanami smiles down at you.

“She was just saying she needs to. Of course. She misses you.” You sigh, you had been hopelessly stuck in the house with the baby.

“First time she’s put the baby down I feel like. She gives me no attention.” Gojo pouts, and you and Nanami roll your eyes.

“You’ll be fine, Gojo.” Nanami winks at you, letting you know he understands. “You all will babysit for us too I’m sure.”

“Of course we would!”

“I’d totally make your baby eat candy.”

“Gojo!” You both hiss at him, and Gojo just grins.

***

That Friday

“Here are her bottles, her paci, here’s her favorite blanket! Oh, and here is her favorite stuffie. And she loves to watch this and this! I read this to her… and here are her diapers, wipes, powder, cream-”

“Babe, relax, they’ll figure it all out.” Satoru comes out then, dressed in a dark blue dress shirt and slacks, looking gorgeous with his hair slicked up all spiky, a smirk on those sexy lips as he looks up and down your body. “Oh fuck you look way too hot in that dress.”

“I… thank you but my hips…” You blush and he glares at you, then looks at Nanami and his wife.

“Girl, you look gorgeous . I hope to look this good.” Nanami’s wife comes up to you, tiny delicate hands on your hips now. “They’re hot!”

“See, they’re hot.” You’re flushing, and Nanami comes up and gently puts a hand on your back too.

“You look beautiful, and I promise, we like hips, okay?” His wife grins, pinching you just a little bit then.

“I’ll even give you a lap dance again to prove I like em!” You giggle then, and Gojo whistles as he walks around you all.

“I’d love to see that .” Nanami smirks too, hazel eyes glinting.

“I don’t know if I can handle another. We almost died.” You and her look at them then, both laughing softly as you both turn pink.

“Thank you all, I guess I’m getting used to some changes in my body?”

“I’m sure I will too. You’re still tiny though. Like you couldn’t even have her normal because you’re already petite.” She backs away then, tapping your nose.

“And this ass…” Gojo pinches it and you jump a bit. “I think it got so much nicer honestly.”

“I love you guys, ugh.”

“You’ll be hyping me up next, I bet!”

“I sure the hell will!” You hug her again, then Nanami pulls you against his side, hugging you both and sighing.

“Women are so complicated. You all look gorgeous and complain.”

“They’re bratty, that’s all.” Satoru pulls you away and twirls you, and you’re wearing a gorgeous sequined black gown that hugs every curve you have, even the new ones that you think you could learn to love. “Fucking hot as fuck .”

“Thank you, Toru. You all make me feel so good.” You smile at the two of them, who are in each other’s arms, Nanami’s hand on her still flat tummy, they smile over at you as Toru yanks you in for a kiss.

“You look more beautiful than that first night even. Wore something just like this, didn’t you?” Gojo’s murmured words eat you up, you can barely hold it together as he stares down at you.

“The night you bribed me on my birthday for a work thing?” He just grins, and Nanami laughs.

“You were such a dick, Gojo.”

“Yeah, yeah… still a dick honestly.” You shake your head.

“No, you’re really the sweetest. I’m glad I went that night… so glad.” He pulls you close, cupping your face.

“Ready for this date?”

“Let me kiss Rai!” You run up to where she’s fast asleep in a little pink bouncy chair, kissing her little forehead and tucking her in with her fancy soft blanket.

“Go on you two, we got it.” Nanami says, and he and his wife shoo you outside, as Kiyotaka is waiting next to the car. He smiles at you.

“Hey Kiyotaka!” You kiss his cheek.

“Hello, My Lady. Mr. Gojo.” You all slide in the back, and before you know it, you’re on Satoru’s lap, and he’s gripping your ass tight, grinding you on him.

“You look so sexy, fuck.” His glossy lips are parted as he’s under you in the dark car, streetlights reflecting everywhere.

“I want you in me.” You whine, and he groans, slipping a hand down between your thighs, already slick, shoving two fingers up into your aching hole, you gasp at that, and he pulls one out, groaning.

“You’re stupid tight.” He crooks that one finger, so thick, and as it hits your spot your head lolls to the side. “Hear how wet you are, baby.”

You can hear it, that squelching sound when he pushes past your little gummy entrance, finding that spot, and you can barely see, vision going dark. “Mnh, yes, please, fuckk…”

“Pretty little slut.” You practically purr at his dirty words, fuck he almost never says that anymore. His pupils dilate and his lips part as he watches you, exhaling and using his free hand to grip your hip.

“Toru… need you…” He moans, kissing you deeply, arching that finger up and repeatedly pressing that spot.

“Oh, so desperate for daddy’s cock, huh brat?” You just moan, nodding, not even bothering to try to play shy or anything. “Soaking my fucking hand.”

“Please, please.” He laughs softly, thumb hitting your clit now, and you’re grinding shamelessly against his big hand, his long fingers.

“Can’t wait for the date? That needy ?” You huff, and he yanks you against him, easing his finger out and pressing you on his hard bulge.

“Lemme suck you then.” He exhales, and you get on your knees in the big back seat, looking up at him as he brushes your hair back.

“Fuck I’m lucky. Beautiful thing, so thirsty for it too.” You grind against his leg as you pull his cock out, slapping against his dress shirt, one you lift so you can look at his chiseled torso. His cock is already leaking precum out of the pink tip, and you lick it up, making him his. “F-fuckk, baby…”

“Yummy.” You whisper, sucking him then, as he cries out, nearly whimpering when you roll your tongue on the ridge of him, before shoving him down your throat, choking on him.

“Baby… fuck! Mmm…” He can’t stop his moans, as he’s gently wrapping your hair into a fist. “That throat, so tight… taking me so well.”

You eat up his praise, sucking him more then, and you feel him thickening, before he yanks you off, looking down on you with drunk eyes. “Cum in my throat, please Toru… wanna taste it.”

“Why are you so fucking hot!?” You just giggle, but he sighs then, brushing a thumb down your lip. “I wanna fuck you so bad… I miss this pussy.”

“Fuck my throat-”

“We’re here Mr. Gojo, Mrs. Gojo.” You flush, and he chuckles, adjusting himself and then pulling you up gently, fixing your skirt and your hair.

“This is… fun. So fun.” You say, eyes lit up, and he smiles down at you, caressing your face, his snowy white lashes low on his seductive eyes.

“It is fun. We needed this. Now, more fun.” You giggle, and follow him out of the car then, gasping when you see where you all were.

“Oh my god! Your boat!” He’s grinning wide, and you jump up and down, kissing him and pulling him to you.

“I thought what’s more perfect, than the place I fell in love with you.” You’re emotional as you pull him down for a kiss, and then you eagerly follow him up onto the planks of his boat, his big hand gripping yours.

“I feel like we haven’t been on here in forever.” You lean against the railing, the wind blowing your hair gently in the night. Satoru comes behind you, his hard cock on the small of your back, arms wrapping around your waist.

“You remember falling off?” You giggle.

“Of course I do! Oh god… you rescued me.” He laughs, leaning more, hands on the railing on top of yours.

“You need to learn to swim, brat.”

“I know, I know! Ugh. Maybe this summer?”

“I’ll teach you.” He kisses down your cheek, and you sigh, desire thrumming through your skin everywhere he touches. “We gotta teach Rai early too.”

“I know! That’s why I want to learn. Ugh, should we check on her?”

“Nah, Nanami and Foxy got it.” You giggle as he uses the stripper name Nanami’s wife used to use.

“We’re so blessed, we have so many amazing friends.”

“I’m blessed, have a beautiful baby, and beautiful wife. With such nice titties too.” He grabs them then, squeezing them in his hands.

“Hey, Toru…”

“Yes baby?”

“With C sections, you can only do it three times. Like max. So I can probably only have one or two more kids. Does that upset you?”

“Fuck no. You could have no more and I’d understand. That was a really rough experience.” You tremble, looking up at him, as the boat starts to sail in the night, as the moon and stars are rising, illuminating his face.

“They say scheduled are way easier. So I definitely want at least one or two more… but I know-”

“That I want a baseball team?” You nod, and he sighs. “Two or three kids is plenty, even this one is perfect. Whatever happens, I couldn’t be happier that we have her. You’re not any less because you gotta get cut open. Fuck, more badass.”

“Toru…” You turn then, leaning against the rail and looking up at him, as the wind blows that soft white hair, as his bright blue eyes glitter in the moonlight. Your hands cup his face, thumbs on his perfect high cheekbones. “I do want another baby. Having Rai has made me so happy. Maybe not for a little but… I do.”

“Good, because I wanna breed that perfect pussy.” His tone changes, from sweet to a damn growl, and it hits your pussy hard. “Got you wet, so fuckin easy.”

“Such a dick.” He moans as you all kiss, as he grips your ass, yanking it onto his thigh again.

“Want a drink and some dinner, brat? Or only this cock?”

“Honestly, the dick… but we can eat. And drink.” You both laugh, as he leads you to the little dining area, the one with just one table for you two.

One of the two men in tuxedos comes and sets down plates, yummy salmon, veggies and rice, along with a fancy bottle of wine in a chiller. The boat rocks gently as he pulls your seat out for you. You smile up at him.

“Thank you, Sir.” He winks, and then you sit down, the candles on the table flickering as the light from the moon kisses everything with silver. Satoru pours you a glass of white wine, which you sip then, feeling the warmth spread through your throat as he takes a seat across from you.

He's still dressed in that sexy, smug damn look, and you can feel his eyes roving over every inch of your body, making you blush. “Fuck you’re so yummy.”

“You make me feel that way.” He moans, hand sliding up your thigh, where it’s bare at the slit of your dress.

“Just wanna eat you.” You giggle, and then go to cut up your meat, but he pauses you, doing it for you. "Let me feed you," he whispers, and you feel your tummy clench, as he puts the piece on his fork.

He pops it in your mouth and you chew, tasting the yummy lemon and butter fish. “It’s so good! Ugh, thank you.”

“Of course.” He kisses your hand then, peeking at your nails. “You got baby blue just for me?”

“Of course.” You repeat. He kisses your knuckles, then you grab his fork, cutting him a piece. “Your turn.”

“Yes mommy.” You snort, rolling your eyes, as he takes the bite off your fork, as seductively as any human being could. You feel that desire from earlier pooling now, and sip your wine greedily, hoping it can satiate you for just a moment. “I’ve wanted you so bad…”

“Yeah?” He nods. “Me too… it’s been torture huh?”

“Fucking torture. Could have fucked you like day five.”

“Day five!”

“Yeah, you bent over all sexy with your tits out, I had to go jerk off in the shower after.”

“Oh gosh! Well I’ve had to masturbate in the shower too.”

“You brat! How dare you!”

“What?”

“I’d have gotten you off!”

“You seemed so exhausted after work-” you say, but he is glaring at you now. “What?”

“I would have been eating you out this whole time. I thought you were too nervous or sore…”

“No, I’m good actually. Like… a lot better. Fuck all I can think about is how hot you look in your suits.” You run a hand down his chest then, and he exhales, sliding his hand up your dress then, finding your soaked little pussy with ease, making you pant and whine.

“Let me make it up to you.” He bends down, in the middle of the boat, right out in the open night, kissing up your thighs hungrily. You cry out, leaning back in the little wooden chair, eagerly putting your leg on his shoulder as he demands.

“Fuck… yes, please.” You just whimper those words, and he grins up at you, as you brush his hair back.

“As the lady commands.” He dives down then, greedily sucking up the wetness that’s already seeping out of your tight entrance. “Best dessert ever.”

You giggle, but it’s cut off as he slides his tongue inside you then, and your walls clench down around the talented muscle, you arch your hips up for more, as his kisses grow hungry against your cunt now. He’s slipping his tongue up, drinking every bit of you that gushes, and you feel so dizzy, your vision blurring as he gets you close so damn fast.

“Mnh… s’good, f-fuckk Toru…” You are mumbling, and he’s groaning, flicking faster as his hands grip your thighs.

“Let me drink this all up baby. I’ll clean it s’good.” He’s mumbling, looking up at you with pussy drunk eyes, lidded and sexy as he swipes that tongue up your slit.

You scream then, bucking up, uncaring of the two random workers. They’d heard you all before anyway. Gojo pays them enough. “Cumming! Mnh!”

“Good girl.” At that you start pulsing, cum pouring down your lips and all over Gojo’s face, his lips, his chin, and you hear him slurping it all up, as your legs are trembling around his face.

“Oh my god…” You can barely think or speak, gasping for breath, then he stands, stooping over and bending down.

“Hang on to me, brat.” You do as he says, eagerly, and he’s carrying you down into the cabin, kissing you deeply, over and over. You eagerly lap your desire off his face, trembling when he strips your dress off, leaving you naked. “Oh… fuck… you’re so beautiful.”

You feel tears fall, and he tilts your chin up. “Thank you…”

“I’m just telling the truth. Should be thanking you, fuck… I remember seeing you naked here the first time. I couldn’t get it out of my head, your perfect little body.” You’re whining out, undressing him with shaky hands.

“I remember waking up next to you, looking at you sleeping. You were so pretty, so peaceful. So perfect.”

“You kissed me like a perv.”

“Shut it! Ah!” He’s got you on the bed then, hard and hot on your soft inner thigh, and you raise your hips up, arching your head back.

“That was our first night together.” He whispers, bringing back those memories from just last year.

“It was, you cuddled me for the first time ever. Best cuddler too.” He smirks, preening under your praise, sliding hands down to cup your lush breasts.

“Of course I am. Best at everything. Fucking too.”

“Yeah you are… but I need a reminder.” You stick your tongue through your teeth, and he raises a perfect brow.

“You challenging me brat?” You nod, and then gasp, as with a growl, he sinks into you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

“Fuck! Toru!” You cry out then, your eyes rolling back in your head as he starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm in your soppy little cunt.

“This what you wanted, baby?” You nod, eagerly.

“Yes, yes.” You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he fucks into you with his huge cock, his strokes growing deeper, harder, reaching up to grab your hands, entwining his as he studies you.

“Fuck you’re pretty.” He slams his lips down, as the weight of him presses on you, his tip hitting your cervix then as he goes balls deep, and you both moan. “Can you take me fucking you good, baby? I can’t hold back.”

“I can do it. Promise.”

He caresses your face for a moment. “If anything hurts… just let me know, okay? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.”

“Promise, promise. Please.” He moans then, and grabs your hips, slamming you hard on his length, all the way. You scream at it, as you’re pulsing around him, so close from just that.

His teeth are clenched, his cheeks all pink and flushed, brows drawn together. “Fuck you feel so good wrapped on my cock. I missed this.”

“I miss you. S’much ngh!” He’s slamming steady against your cervix now, hand sliding up your chest, squeezing a breast and pinching it, hips snapping as he fucks you harder.

“Can we get these legs up baby?”

“Kinda?” He laughs, breathy, then presses them up some, spreading them wide and then starting to rail your pussy, and you can just hear you sucking him in. He leans back and watches.

“Look at her taking me so good, making my cock dissapear.” His words edge you on, and soon you’re slippery, clutching the sheets of the bed desperately, leaning your ass up for even more. “Oh… fuck….”

“Fuck!” You both moan out at the same time, as his tip is kissing that cervix, so sensitive you’re cumming then, all over his cock, squeezing him so tight.

“Oh my god.” He’s whining again, and the sound is so hot, his pretty face so flushed, eyes so drunk, you yank him down on you, taking his hand and putting it on your throat.

“Please, Toru, choke me. Like your little slut.”

“I’ve died and gone to heaven!?” You both laugh, breathy, but he leans down, pressing his weight on the backs of your thighs, then he’s choking you, squeezing your throat on each side, pressure perfect. “You like it baby don’t you? Me squeezing this pretty neck?”

You nod into his grip, which tightens, then you’re cumming again, orgasm washing over you as he pounds your cunt, and she takes it so good, your mind gets fuzzy as he squeezes tighter. “Mnh!”

“Like she’s made for my cock.” He whispers, and your eyes roll back in your head involuntarily, drool pooling out the side of your mouth as your tongue just hangs out, pathetic. “Cum on this cock again, lemme feel her.”

You do as he commands, because how couldn’t you? Screaming out, but it’s just a whisper, until your vision blackens, and he lets you go, letting you greedily suck in air, leaning forward and laying on top of you. He kisses your lips, tongue sliding in, and it’s messy, just like your cunt dripping down his cock, down the bed. Teeth and tongues and lips.

“Imma put another baby in you, little brat. Fuckin want it?” He purrs those damn words, shoving in hard, your legs over his elbows now. You nod, eagerly, and he licks his lips then, groaning and looking at you.

“Please, put one in me. Cum in me, please.” He huffs a breath then, rythym jerky, reaching down between your bodies and rubbing your little clit then. You scream out at the stimulation, shivering under him, pressure in your tummy building.

“Cum with me, pretty. Milk this cock with that perfect pussy.” You fall with him, cunt pulsing around his cock, as it twitches, and then fills you, as Satoru holds your face tightly, slamming his lips and drinking your cries, as you drink his moans.

“Mnh, s’much! Ah… s’much yes…” You whisper between kisses, as he pumps so much hot load into you, it’s ridiculous.

“Fill that tummy full of me. Take it all, brat.” You just cling to him, as he fucks into you, pumping all that cum more, though your pussy is pushing so much of it out around him, mixed with your wetness.

You’re shaking, struggling for breath, tears hitting your eyes as he keeps pushing, overstimulating you both. “Fuck… never go this long again!”

He laughs, brushing your hair back with one hand as you cling to his bare shoulders, the other hand leaving your clit to grip your waist. “Okay, so next time we’ll only wait two weeks?”

“Yeah at best. And fuck me the whole pregnancy.”

“You’re the one that whined!”

“Well, shit. Yeah.” You both laugh, and soon he’s hard again, still in you, and you blink rapidly. “Again?”

“Oh absolutely again.” He pulls out though, flipping you up on your knees, arching your ass back. “God, your hips and waist like this? Fucking killing me.” His teeth nip your ass cheek, and you shiver, still dripping his cum and yours on the bed, then he’s shoved his cock in you.

“Ah! So big…” You whine out, as he hits deeper like this. He smacks your ass gently, making you wetter, and he fucks in and out with ease, hitting your abused cervix as his balls smack your clit.

“Gonna fill you s’much tonight, brat. Can you take all this cum?” You nod, looking back, and then he yanks your hair, slamming into you over and over, arching your back so you’re up higher, stretched beyond your means.

“All of it. I’ll take all of it, please. Fill me.” He groans loud then, hands gripping your hips hard, and he fucks you into another orgasm, then another…

Then another.

You lose count, as he falls on your back, as his weight is on your back, as he’s drenched in sweat, and so are you. You’re sore, achy, and so is he, as he came again already, and now he’s hard again . Your cunt is wrecked, so full of his cum you can’t take it, but god you want it, you want all of it.

“Another round in you, brat?” He whispers, and you laugh, then gasp when he toys your puffy clit, which twitches under his two fingers, and you’re dripping his cum and yours all over his hand. “Messy little brat, aren’t you? Suck these.”

His fingers are in your mouth, and you’re moaning all over them, drooling, as he slowly and leisurely fucks into you. He’s got you by your throat again, kissing you, and you both cry out into each others mouths, looking at each other with fucked out eyes, and you both moan when he hits that spot that makes you tighten.

“Love you Toru… love you s’much. Mmnh. Love your cock. Love your mouth. Love you.”

“Love you, little brat. So much. Love your pussy, love that throat. Love you. Beautiful.” You cry as he slides in, so sore, but god you want it.

You’ll always want it.

“Forever, Satoru.” He looks at you with those blown out pupils, his blue eyes glittering in the dark.

“You are my forever.”

You cum again, and it doesn’t end there, you all devour each other, hungry, thirsty, needy. Whining, moaning, crying. You push each other’s limits, and can never get enough. You will never get enough.

He’s yours forever.

And you’re his.

The End

A/N- This was my first Gojo fic and first JJK fic, I think I've improved a lot since this but I also will always love it.

Other Gojo fics of mine on Tumblr if you like this one :3 :

Take me Home Tonight- Law school AU- Smut/Fluff, Professor and lawyer Gojo

Fractured Desires - angsty Sato/Reader fic with some Sugu/reader as well- heavy smut/explicit

Healing Hearts - Doctor Gojo and intern student, smut and humor, medical

Silent Serenades- Duke Gojo AU, an arranged marriage, angsty asf, slow burn

Kofi link if you wanna support 💗

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #ceo satoru gojo #gojo x you

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transmutationisms · 1 year ago

Note

what's your opinion on medications that require pregnancy testing? like accutane, I think they end your prescription if you get a positive pregnancy test, due to birth defects. i personally refused accutane for several reasons but the mandatory pregnancy testing was a big one

wow i literally just mentioned this to someone the other night lol. yeah it's pretty paternalistic. obviously fetal health complications should be taken seriously but it's very noticeable to me that the medical presumption here is that the automatic course of correct action is to prevent people access to their prescriptions, rather than, yknow, discussing options like abortion.

i know dorothy roberts ('killing the black body') and i think also jacqueline wolf ('cesarean section') have discussed the development of the concept of a 'maternal-fetal conflict'—ie, the notion that there's a conflict between the interests of a fetus and those of the actual pregnant person—and argued that american medicine's current tendency to prioritise the fetus has its roots in plantation medicine. the idea was that enslaved women were negligent, at best, or even outright infanticidal (as in, because they were trying to spare their children from being enslaved) and therefore white doctors and enslavers needed to treat the fetus as the patient, presuming its interests were of more economic relevance and overrode the actual human person. and this framing has been echoed since abolition, such as during the so-called 'crack epidemic' w/ state and medical discourses about black women specifically being unfit mothers who therefore needed to be legally regulated, separated from their children, &c. anyway i would guess that there are probably some echoes of this history in the decision to so tightly regulate pregnancy testing wrt accutane as well, plus ofc the legacy of the thalidomide scandal.

also, like, although risks obviously vary with different meds, it's not like isotretinoin is the only drug that can harm a fetus; many benzos and antibiotics do as well, for instance, and probably lots of other things that people are not routinely required to be pregnancy-tested for. so that also does make me wonder if part of what's going on is that accutane/isotretinoin is considered to be a 'cosmetic' (read: frivolous) intervention and therefore medical authorities have been more comfortable deciding to just yank people off it in case of pregnancy rather than, yknow, providing full information and advocating for patients to have full reproductive choice and such. this is rly just speculation though lol.

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slaymitchabernathy · 24 days ago

Text

Baby Steps

| tw: mentions of miscarriages |

"Oh, aren't you so handsome? Yes, you are! So, so handsome, my darling boy."

Even from his study, Coriolanus can hear his wife cooing in their son's ear. Some men might get annoyed at the constant chatter, the constant narration of every single thing the eleven-month-old does, but not him.

They deserve to drink up every moment with their son.

Corioalnus thinks that maybe he'd be a little more stern with Soarynn if their son, Caspian, wasn't their firstborn, the heir to the Snow fortune. But Caspian is nothing short of a miracle.

They have gone through two gigantic losses to get to this point.

Their first baby, a girl, went so quietly one night while they were both sleeping. Coriolanus woke up to Soarynn lying in a puddle of her own blood. Neither of them knew what to do, what it meant. Soarynn was hysterical, screaming that something was wrong with the baby. He rushed her to the hospital, but by then, it was too late.

Their baby girl was no longer with them.

Sorynn had an emergency cesarean section to remove the dead fetus; five months of growing their child in her stomach meant nothing. She had been devastated, unable to move due to the stitches and her grief. There were days when he didn't think she'd ever recover.

The second miscarriage was more painful if that was even possible. Coriolanus had been at work when he got a panicked call from his wife, crying that she was losing the baby. Another little girl, almost six months along.

He rushed to meet Soarynn at the hospital, where she was observed for several days until the doctor announced that if she were to give both to their baby in three months, it would be a stillbirth.

Oh, she cried. Coriolanus remembers how badly she cried, how inconsolable Soarynn was when they had to make the decision to have another emergency cesarean section, for the safety of her own life as well as the child's.

By this point, he was done. He was done seeing his wife, his darling girl, go through so much pain. He was done buying small caskets and getting the condolences from all their closest friends.

He was done.

The Snows returned to their penthouse with no baby bump, no baby, and no hope for the near future. It took almost a year for Soarynn to get color back in her skin, light in her dazzling eyes. She fell into a deep depression, so deep that he was terrified of leaving her at home by herself.

To help her feel better, Coriolanus bought her a fluffy white kitten. Petunia was an instant hit, something for Soarynn to nurture. In a way, it pained him to see how natural her maternal instincts were towards the cat. Soarynn would make a wonderful mother.

Eventually, things returned to normal. Both of them went to see a therapist. Coriolanus was gutted as well by the miscarriages, but he went about his grief differently, burying himself in his work.

Anything to distract himself.

They moved on, slowly but surely. They started going on little dates again, Soarynn allowed him to touch her, to give her pleasure after withholding from it for so long. Many nights were spent passionately in the bedroom where he'd whisper about how strong she was, how beautiful, and how kind. How he'd give her the world if she asked.

The nursery remained untouched. Soarynn never mentioned repurposing the room that sat unused for three years, and he didn't mention it either. Every once in a while, he'd find her sitting in the rocking chair she bought for nursing. Her eyes would be closed, and her hands would be resting on her stomach.

Coriolanus never said anything. He knew she was still grieving in her own silent way, for what is grief if not love preserving? He let her do what she felt was right. What she felt was appropriate and needed.

Needless to say, they were both surprised when Soarynn missed her period one month. He thought maybe it was stress, maybe she wasn't eating enough, or maybe it was the lingering sadness. They had sex a few times a week, that was nothing new, but Coriolanus had just assumed that she'd never get pregnant again.

He thought her body couldn't handle another pregnancy.

Soarynn must've thought the same thing, too, because when she decided to take a pregnancy test, he heard a gasp come from their bathroom.

It was a miracle. A miracle that was both a blessing and a curse.

Coriolanus was terrified to put things plainly. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't risk Soarynn's life for the slim possibility of a child. He already lost his own mother to childbirth, and Soarynn's mother passed away giving birth to her.

Childbirth was the killer in both their bloodlines, and if anything, Soarynn had gotten lucky the last two times.

He tried to talk Soarynn out of it. Tried to tell her that it could possibly end the same way the last two did, and that he refused to put her through that again. She might never come back to him if it happened again.

Soarynn becoming a shell of herself was a big and selfish fear of his.

But Soarynn was insistent, determined to see this through.

"It's a sign," she had told him, holding his face in her small hands. "Third time's the charm, right?"

He was not so easily convinced, but for the sake of her happiness, he went along with it. Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't take precautions, because he did.

Weekly visits to the doctor's office. Coriolanus wanted an ultrasound every single time. Blood was constantly being drawn despite Soarynn's hatred of needles. Coriolanus had Soarynn on a rigorous diet to ensure that she and the baby were getting all the nutrients they needed. He also made sure that she was getting plenty of exercise as well as plenty of rest.

One day, during their afternoon walk in the park, he had stopped her from bending down to feed the ducks swimming in the lake.

"You don't want to hurt the baby," he had warned.

Soarynn, halfway through the pregnancy and her patience had given him a look. "You know, pregnancy is supposed to be enjoyable," she had snapped. After that, he was a little more relaxed.

Just a little.

When it came time to find out the gender, Coriolanus was fully expecting it to be a girl. Soarynn was too, so they were very surprised to find out that they were having a boy.

A boy. A little boy.

There had been a small part of him that hoped for a girl, solely because he felt they were owed at least that after what they'd been put through. But perhaps a boy was a break in their bad luck.

Soarynn flew into action to prepare the nursery, trading out light pinks for baby blues. It made them both sad to see so many little things be sent away, little ribbons and dresses. But with goodbyes came hellos. Soarynn started buying little sweaters and suits, shiny little shoes, and stuffed bears for their future son.

When the time came to give birth, Coriolanus was a wreck. He was thrilled that they made it this far, but birth was quite the vast finish line to cross to get to the other side.

The other side being parenthood.

But Caspian Snow was born at nine o'clock at night after seven hours of labor. He weighed six pounds and had blonde hair and bright blue eyes, just like his father.

Soarynn cried tears of joy to have her son in her arms. Coriolanus might have shed a tear as well. They were thrilled to announce his birth, and Soarynn toted him around everywhere she went once it was safe to bring him to public places.

Coriolanus never realized how many people loved babies until he had one of his own. Everywhere they went, people gravitated towards them, and Soarynn was more than proud to show off her beaming baby boy.

Caspian had her wrapped around his little finger.

The past few months have been nothing short of blissful, exactly what they deserve after what they've gone through.

"Come on, darling, try again," Soarynn encourages from his nursery down the hall. Coriolanus doesn't need to see them to know what's going on. Caspian is beginning to talk and walk. He does more talking than walking right now, well, he babbles.

He knows very few words, his first being 'Momma,' which was no surprise to Coriolanus. Soarynn spends every waking moment with Caspian, whereas Coriolanus sees him after work.

But she's been quite determined to get Caspian to take his first steps. He hears more noncoherent babbling come from Caspian, probably tired of trying to walk.

Coriolanus focuses back on his work, the only reason he chose to work from home today was because he had to get his yearly physical done. He came home after the appointment, figuring he could get in a few extra minutes with his family.

He scans the papers in front of him, but his focus doesn't last long.

"CORYO!"

He's on his feet in seconds, imagining the worst. Caspian keeled over, frothing at the mouth, seizing. Unsavable. He runs down the hallway into the nursery, prepared to see the gruesome sight of his dead son, but instead, sees Caspian standing on his own two feet.

Soarynn sits on her knees a few feet away from him, smiling so big with her arms open. "Come on, darling, come to Momma! Oh, Coryo, you just missed it! Caspian took his first steps!"

Caspian holds out his hands for balance, trying to use his chubby little legs for support. Caspian whimpers, looking at both his parents for help. "You can do it, Caspian," Coriolanus encourages, nodding at the small child. Soarynn nods in agreement, holding her hands out even further.

"Come to Momma."

Caspian takes five wobbly steps towards her, almost losing his footing at one point if it weren't for the rug underneath him. But he makes it, grabbing onto Soarynn's hand the moment she's in reach. Soarynn laughs, another delighted smile on her face as she beams up at Coriolanus.

"Did you see that!? He's walking!"

Coriolanus smiles, he's not nearly as sentimental as Soarynn is, but even he can admit what a big milestone this is for Caspian. "He'll be running before you know it." Soarynn laughs, pressing a kiss to Caspian's face. "Well done, my darling, well done." Caspian basks in her attention, placing his small hand on her cheek, "Momma."

Soarynn nods, her smile still lingers as it so often does when she's with him. "That's right, darling, I'm your Momma. Now, why don't you walk over to your Father?" She points at Coriolanus, causing Caspian to follow her finger. Caspian smiles at Coriolanus, newfound confidence within his small body.

Soarynn holds onto his waist until he feels brave enough to step towards Coriolanus. He takes another step, then another step. Coriolanus is crouching down without even realizing it, holding his hands out for his son. Caspian leaves the safety of the carpet, now on the hardwood floors, but he handles it like a professional. He only stumbles once, mostly due to his socks on the slippery floor, but he recovers nicely.

"There you go," Coriolanus praises, taking Caspian's small outstretched hand. Soarynn claps while Coriolanus scoops him up, bouncing him up and down. "Already walking on the hardwood floors. He's a Snow if I've ever seen one."

Caspian babbles some more, grabbing at the buttons on his father's shirt. Soarynn rises from the floor, joining her two men at the doors to the nursery. "You're growing up so fast, darling. You'll be climbing into our bed before we know it."

Coriolanus shudders at the thought of being woken up at all hours of the night by a stir crazy Caspian. It's bad enough that Petunia sleeps with them. He didn't have it in his heart to keep her and Soarynn separated when they first got her. Soarynn was so fragile, and she needed a friend, a constant source of companionship.

"Let's hope that he enjoys sleeping in his own bed," Coriolanus says, resting one hand on her waist. He didn't know what to expect once Caspian was born. Would Soarynn stop caring about her appearance? Would she grow distant from her husband? Would she lose a part of herself?

None of these things happened, thankfully. That pregnancy glow never seemed to leave her, and Soarynn became even more doting towards Coriolanus than before, if that was even possible. As for appearances, well, she made lots of them and kept her own appearance in perfect shape. She still gets her hair trimmed every six weeks, her nails done every three, and gets full body waxes like clockwork.

Thanks to the diet he had her on, Soarynn bounced back rather quickly after giving birth. This was her first natural birth, so there was no need to worry about stitches tearing. Coriolanus still had her rest for most of the day, bringing her fruits, tea, and books. Whatever she needed, she got.

"Momma!"

Soarynn is delighted all over again, pressing kisses all over Caspian's face. "Isn't he just so clever? Just like his Father." Coriolanus puffs up at that compliment. Caspian will most likely grow to be as tall and handsome as he is, carrying on the Snow legacy.

Sometimes, after Soarynn has fallen asleep, he wonders if Caspian will manage to find a woman as fitting as Soarynn. Every boy subconsciously wants to date a girl somewhat like their mother, but Coriolanus feels that it's quite impossible to find someone else like Soarynn.

"Well," he says, "I can't argue with that."

Caspian wiggles to get out of his hold, so Coriolanus gently sets him back down on the floor. Caspian toddles right over to Petuinia, who until now, was oblivious to what just took place. She'll often join Soarynn in the nursery, lying by the crib, occasionally sparing Caspian a glance.

Their son loves Petunia, but Petunia simply tolerates him.

When they first introduced the two of them, Petunia had tried to swat at the newborn. Soarynn had gasped, clutching Caspian closer to her while Coriolanus picked up a yowling Petunia and escorted her out into the hall.

"She thinks we're replacing her," Soarynn had realized.

"Give her some time, darling, she'll warm up to him," Coriolanus promised.

One should never bet on a cat, though.

Caspian walks over to Petunia, slowly but surely, as Petunia realizes what's happened, how this new development will now permanently affect her. Her eyes widen, and she jumps up, quickly running around him and into the hallway. Caspian pouts, turning around to follow her, but Petunia is long gone.

"She doesn't want to play, sweet boy," Soarynn explains, picking him up. Caspian pouts, he always wants to play with Petunia. "We should put him in a playgroup," Coriolanus suggests, "let him play with other humans."

Soarynn nods, Caspian is big enough to start interacting with other children his age, and all their friends have started families as well. "I suppose you're right," she sighs, "and it'll be good to tire him out in the afternoons." To prove her point, Caspian kicks his feet, trying to escape her hold. "We don't kick, Caspian," Coriolanus sternly corrects him.

The change in tone does not bode well with Caspian, whose lip trembles before burying his face in Soarynn's neck. "Oh, it's alright, darling. Your Father didn't mean to upset you." Soarynn gives Coriolanus a nasty look when Caspian begins to cry, but he doesn't feel remotely guilty.

Soarynn would never reprimand their son if she had her way. And Coriolanus can't afford to have a badly behaved child who acts out in public and in private. No, it's best to nip this in the bud right now.

"Perhaps he needs a nap after all this excitement," he throws out, placing his hand on the back of Caspian's head. Little curls are already sprouting out, causing Coriolanus to wonder if Caspian will show any resemblance to Soarynn at all.

"That's not a bad idea," she mumbles, swaying side to side. Coriolanus kisses her temple, a way of saying his goodbyes before returning to his study. He can't afford to get caught up in all the excitement.

꧁ ꧂

Three days later, all of the Snows are attending a party thrown by the Heavensbees to welcome their third child, Plutarch. This is their third boy, and from what Hilarius has said, their last one as well.

Coriolanus stands with his friends, whom he's known since childhood, drinking and laughing while they recall the week they've all had.

"Well, Caspian is walking now," he says, earning a few pats on the back. "I take it Soarynn was over the moon," Festus Creed muses. Festus was the one who helped Coriolanus in his times of grief, talking it through over a drink. He'll never forget that.

"Of course she was. She screamed so loud that I thought there was a spider." They all laugh and begin discussing when their own children began walking and talking, while Coriolanus looks back over at Soarynn. She's sitting with the other wives, Caspian in her lap, while she talks to Persephone Creed, her very good friend.

"...enroll them in school early." He catches the tail end of the conversation but is already intrigued. Caspain will undoubtedly go to the Academy, the most prestigious private school one can send their child to in the Capitol. It's a steep price to pay for the best education and guaranteed connections among other rich peers.

"Persephone already wants to get Cecil's name on the waiting list," Festus says with a sigh, "apparently, it's very competitive to get a first-year student into the school." Coriolanus had no idea it was this difficult. He obviously doesn't remember the steps his own parents took to enroll him, but surely it couldn't have been this hard.

"Unless you give a generous donation," Coriolanus says, which earns him a few chuckles. Money can buy happiness, and it certainly can buy a spot in the Academy. He knows that for certain.

His money has bought him the best clothes, the best food, the best staff, and the best lifestyle. It bought him the best doctors who were able to keep his son and wife safe during their pregnancy. Anyone who says any different is lying to themselves, simple as that.

Coriolanus feels his gaze involuntarily wandering back over to Soarynn, who still, after all these years of being together, is the most constant thought on his mind. He worries for her day and night.

Some might call him overprotective, but Coriolanus simply wants to ensure that his darling wife has everything she could possibly need. If she doesn’t like the food, he’ll take her to a different restaurant. If she needs new shoes, he’ll buy her ten pairs.

He really doesn’t think of himself as going above and beyond either. This should be the standard when it comes to taking care of a woman. Soarynn is the most beautiful woman in Panem and should be treated as such.

When he sees his friends and their wives, he can’t help but compare them to him and Soarynn’s relationship. He and Soarynn rarely argue or disagree on anything. They have sex at least three times a week, and once a week, he takes her out to a nice dinner.

It’s the little things that ensure a perfect marriage.

And Soarynn is a true testimony to how well he treats her. She’s absolutely glowing right now as she holds Caspian in her lap, beaming down at their son. Caspian lets out a delighted squeal when she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Coriolanus used to see Caspian’s infatuation with Soarynn as ridiculous until he realized that Caspian inherited this slight obsession from him.

Like father like son.

“What’ll you be doing for his birthday?”

That’s a question Coriolanus has been hearing more and more as Caspian’s first birthday has begun to approach. Their friends know about the struggles they went through to start a family, and Caspian’s birth was widely celebrated by the Capitol elite.

“Soarynn has a whole thing planned,” he answers, sipping his champagne. “I’m sure it’ll cost me a small fortune, but she deserves to be excited about this.”

Coriolanus had stupidly suggested a small celebration at home, which was immediately shot down by Soarynn, who was already looking at banquet halls to rent out.

He’s wisely stayed out of her way, simply footing the bill instead.

“The invitations themselves are getting out of hand,” Festus grunts, “and who even looks at the invitations that closely?”

Soarynn does, Coriolanus thinks to himself. She’ll come to his study to show him what they got in the mail, analyzing what card stock was chosen for the invite.

He doesn’t really pay attention to those things, like the font size, the color, the theme. He has Soarynn for that.

“It’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it,” he decides, looking back over at Soarynn. “If you’ll excuse me, I ought to go check on my wife and son.”

Coriolanus snags a fresh glass of champagne from an Avox waiter and crosses the large room towards the woman who owns his heart and soul. Caspian has been moved to the carpeted floor where he’s attempting to take small steps under the gaze of every woman at the party.

“Isn’t he just so clever?” Soarynn gushes, holding out her hands. She looks exquisite today. Wearing a beautiful baby blue dress that shows off her collar bones, slender shoulders, and glowing skin. Soarynn had her hair fashioned in a stylish updo with a few face-framing pieces.

Coriolanus rests a hand on her shoulder, always needing some physical contact between them. Soarynn looks up at him with adoring eyes. “Look how good he’s doing, Coryo.”

He watches his son toddle around, doing his best to dodge the other children who are beginning to walk as well. “He’s doing remarkably well,” Coriolanus agrees. Caspian has been taking more and more steps since his first ones.

Baby steps, but still steps.

He knows that once he starts, he won’t stop, and then they’ll be in for it.

“Do you two have any plans for your anniversary?” Persephone asks the couple, her green eyes sparkling while her son tugs on her dress for attention.

Soarynn sighs, tired from days of planning and spending his money. “I honestly haven’t even thought about our anniversary,” she admits, taking the glass he offers her.

“It’s still a while away,” Coriolanus assures her. He could always plan it, but Soarynn prefers to have complete control over their itinerary.

“Momma!”

Caspian stumbles towards Soarynn, who reaches out to scoop him up, gasping excitedly. “Look at you! Walking like a big boy!”

Caspian is dressed exceptionally sharp for an eleven-month-old. Soarynn dressed him in a tiny suit and slicked back his baby curls. He’s even wearing little leather shoes like Coriolanus does.

“He looks just like his Father,” Persephone says. “In a good way, I hope,” Coriolanus banters, rubbing his hand up and down Soarynn’s arm.

Both women chuckle and share knowing looks. Soarynn and Persephone have been friends since they were five years old. They’re thick as thieves, and Coriolanus often wonders if it’s a coincidence that they happened to marry best friends as well.

“In a good way, darling,” Soarynn answers, smiling at him, “you are terribly attractive, you know.”

Now he’s blushing.

Soarynn is often praised for her beauty, but Coriolanus isn’t doing too shabby either when it comes to looks.

He’s tall, strong, always smells good, and has bright blue eyes that Soarynn has trouble looking away from. It must help that Caspian has his eyes.

“Just making sure,” he grunts. Caspian wiggles to be put back down, but doesn’t kick, which pleases Coriolanus. Some of these other children clearly haven’t been corrected the way they should be.

Soarynn might protest his parenting methods from time to time, but he’ll be damned if he has a son running around like a little hellion.

Coriolanus lets her take on the brunt of parenting, only stepping in when he deems necessary. All little boys need a mother’s love, but also a father’s firm hand. That’s how he was raised, and that’s how his son will be raised as well. None of this new generation parenting ever seems to end well.

“Go on, darling,” Soarynn encourages, setting Caspian back down. He toddles over to a little girl who Coriolanus believes is the Canville’s daughter. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like when Caspian starts taking an interest in girls.

“Perhaps we should go on a trip,” he suggests, and Soarynn’s eyes widen in dismay. “But we’d have to leave Caspian,” are the first words tumbling out of her mouth.

Coriolanus chuckles, Soarynn can’t stand to be apart from their son now that he’s here. “Yes, that's the idea, darling. He’ll be perfectly fine for a week.”

“A week?!”

He winces at her shrill tone. “Five days,” he recovers, “we could go to the beach. Like we did for our honeymoon.”

They both have very fond memories of their honeymoon. A blush crawls across Soarynn’s cheeks as she remembers nights and mornings spent tangled beneath the sheets in her husband's embrace.

“I’d have to arrange for a nanny,” she mumbles, now giving the idea some thought. “Caspian would need full-time care. He’s still so small. What if he got sick?”

Oh, the joys of parenthood. Coriolanus often has to remind himself of what they went through to get here, to have a son.

“They have phones,” he reminds Soarynn, “and you need some time to yourself, darling. You could read by the pool or get a massage. Just imagine dinner on the terrace every night.”

He can imagine it clear as day. If only Soarynn were as easy to convince.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

There’s no use in arguing with his wife, he never wins. He presses a kiss to the top of her head to assure her that all will be well, no matter what they decide to celebrate their anniversary.

“We’ll have to take some baby steps of our own, I see.”

Soarynn hums, watching their son gain confidence in himself and his little feet.

“Yes,” she agrees, “baby steps are a good idea.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames @wakdjenwowj |

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dimmadomeglobal · 2 months ago

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Lmao I finished the drawing.

Anyways, I've decided to change the lore of this post, the one about Dale in labor. I did some research about childbirth and figured having Dale just push through and give birth on his office chair was unrealistic. It was an office chair by the way, I forgot to mention. I also realized that it's much too similar to dvd-wren's canon (the anon from this post, their au is great btw so check it out if you wanna) and I only realized this after posting. So I'll be changing it.

Onto the lore!

Initially, Dale had wanted to get a cesarean section. He just wanted to get it over with quickly and with little effort on his end. He also didn't want anyone looking between his legs for dysphoria reasons. However, upon being informed that he would need a much longer recovery time and more care, which means more time out of work, he decided against it.

Dale went into labor exactly on his due date. He didn't have to wait around. However, he didn't know he was in labor for several hours, not only because he barely feels his bodily sensations, but also because of his terrible back pain. He had back pain before getting pregnant and it got much worse when he did. When he started to experience contractions, he thought it was his back acting up.

After a few hours of the supposed back pain coming and going and getting worse, he figured something was off. It was also pretty obvious to Lent that Dale was in labor, considering he was shifting in his seat, wincing and groaning. Lent suggested they go to the hospital, but Dale insisted on staying, saying he’s in a DimmaZoom meeting with potential investors, the baby can wait. Unfortunately for him, Lent wasn't willing to wait and said, “Dale, you sound like a dying animal. We're going to the hospital.” And then he shut down his computer and dragged him to the hospital.

At the hospital, Dale was given an epidural (thing to stop pain during labor) and Dev was born shortly after. It was a very quick and boring affair with no complications, which is just how Dale wanted it to be.

Expanding on Dev's birth, his full name is Development Dimmadome. Devin is his nickname. Instead of being normal about his pregnancy, Dale treated it as another one of his projects, named Project Development. Dale liked the name enough and thus, named him Development. Lent wanted to name him Dimmadelphia to show the public how much he loves his city in hopes of upping his approval rating, and if not, then Dale jr. But Dale had the final say.

When Dev was given to Dale to hold, he recoiled. Instead of seeing his newborn son, all he saw was a slimy and screaming animal. He quickly passed Dev to Lent and didn't hold him again.

Lent had the opposite reaction. When Dev calmed down, opened his eyes, and looked at him for the first time, Lent ugly cried. He loved him immediately.

#jsut to be sure... I don't think it's a sign of bad parentness on Dale's part for not being able to love his son immediately.#What I think is bad is his choice not to love Dev later on. He chose not to give as much of a shit as he should. He chose to neglect him.#unnamed au #mpreg #dalepreg #i forgot to say: thanks anon for the last ask!#please... j love getting asks people giving me asks is like giving me enrichment #less tags because this post is just a correction of a different post.

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years ago

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How the Boys Act With Their Brand New Babies

Captain John Price, John “Soap” McTavish, König, Simon “Ghost” Riley

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Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Pregnancy, descriptions of birth (natural and cesarean), breastfeeding, established relationships/marriages, mentions of drugs (during C-Section), godparents, and I think that’s it!

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A/N: The baby fever is so real you guys. Also, the only one out of this group that screams “boy dad” is Price and no one can change my mind.

Thank you so so much to @thesleepingmusicneek for helping me with beta-reading and general plot additions with this piece and so many others I've posted recently 🥰🥰🥰

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Masterlists - Price | Soap | König | Ghost |

Join My Taglist!

◆

Captain John Price (~1k words)

Benjamin Price

John’s base instinct is “protector and provider” and Lord does that skyrocket with your son.

“No.”

“John.”

“I said no, not happening.” Turning, he held your son out of your mother’s reach. “She hasn’t washed her hands.”

Chuckling, you crossed your arms. “Baby, I think it’ll be o -”

Reaching over to grab a bottle of hand sanitizer, he held it out to your mother. “At least sanitize.”

There was something ridiculously funny about John, your hardened soldier, holding onto this pudgy, little baby. And what made it even funnier, was that Benji had a straight face nearly the entire time; staring over at his grandmother as if to say, do what my daddy says. John and his son were two peas in a damn pod.

Watching others hold his baby wasn’t an easy task. Regardless of whether or not they were family, it made his palms sweat, made his breaths shallow and fingers fidgety. What if they dropped him? Pinched him too hard? Bounced him too fast? Made him frown or cry? And by the time his thoughts started spiraling, he’d just get up and snatch him right back.

While John was more than proud to show off your little family, he might as well have “look, don’t touch” painted across his forehead. Even his own parents didn’t have access to Benji unless they followed his standards. And family friends? Strangers at the park? Yeah, they can forget even saying hi to him.

“He is a cutie, isn’t he?” John beamed, nodding along to one of your friend’s comments. “Hey,” He then said, holding out a hand. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, I was just going to hold his little hand!”

“I don’t think so, Deb.”

“John, she’s only being nice.” Chastising him lightly, you tilted your head with sympathy.

“Nice or not, she’s not touching my son.”

John acted as if everyone was out to snatch up his son and take off running. And he didn’t care if he hurt anyone’s feelings in the process of protecting him.

“Love, you’ve got to be nicer.”

“Why?”

“Because these are our friends, our family!”

“Just keeping him safe,” He then turned to the chubby bundle in his arms. “That’s all.”

As per usual, Benji had that straight look on his face, expression matching that of his father. And Christ, do they look alike. He’s practically a carbon copy of John.

Shaking your head, you chuckle. “You and your mini me.”

And John’s face lifts with the brightest grin, cheeks cherry red with happiness. “Handsome chap.” He says, bouncing Benji on his lap.

Try as you might, there’s no changing John’s mind. In order to keep your baby boy happy and healthy, everyone and everything had to be clean. John ran a tight ship, something you’ve gotten used to in your marriage. And, you figure, in the end it’s only helping Benji.

When it came to the birth of your son, John made sure to have a plan. You and your doctors discussed a scheduled C-Section beforehand, and the two of you adapted well to this. They informed you of every detail, and after that, you discussed things on your own end. Back at home, John helped you devise a game plan, a list of things that you’d need and the exact steps to take when the day came. And when the moment finally arrived, everything went surprisingly smooth.

While it was difficult for John to see you under the influence of so many narcotics, that was the least of his worries. During your procedure, he focused on yours and the baby’s health. And even though you weren’t entirely conscious, he made sure to stay by your side. While you bore the weight of the most intense struggles, your husband intended to take on the burdens of every other task that he possibly could. That meant aiding in your recovery, and your son’s growth.

Once home, John was your round-the-clock nurse. On a timed schedule, he’d clean your incision and make sure it was healing well. He kept your nightstand fully stocked with water and pain medicine, as well as your comfiest heating pad. The ensuite had all the postpartum pads you could need, and he never left you alone in the shower. When it came to Benji, John did all of the nighttime feedings, and all of the nappie changings. He didn’t want you lifting a single finger, not while you were resting.

In the evening, John often cuddled in bed with you, bringing Benjamin along to nestle between your bodies. You both admired him, pet him softly and kissed his little hands and big, round belly. It was mesmerizing to you, the fact that you created this perfect, little soul. And while you focused your affections on your newborn son, you and John made sure to save some of it for each other, too.

“Beautiful.”

“I know,” Cooing quietly, you smiled down at him.

“No,” Shaking his head, John drew your attention back to him. “You, lovie.”

“I’ve been in bed for three days, this isn’t beautiful.” While you laugh, John tuts sadly.

“Don’t know how you could be so blind.”

But what you certainly aren’t blind to, is John’s unconditional love. And that is more healing to you than any medication on the market.

Though, that doesn’t stop the rest of the boys from trying. In their thoughtfulness, Johnny and Kyle have brought you gift baskets full of after-pregnancy goodies. Snacks and sweet drinks, fuzzy socks and cute onesies for little Benji. They were even kind enough to include postpartum pads.

“You guys are too much.” In the midst of it all, tears roll down your cheeks.

Shrugging, Kyle just grins. “Least I can do for my godson.”

Out of the entire group, John was the first to have a baby. And he wasted no time in making Kyle Benjamin’s godfather. And the boys understood; John and Kyle had a bond that exceeded brotherhood.

Of course, Simon tagged along. But he wasn’t exactly familiar with babies. Soap encouraged him to bring a gift, but all he could come up with was an Amazon gift card.

“I um, well… here. For his… things.” Ghost handed you the card awkwardly, but you smiled brightly regardless.

“Thank you, Simon.” Bringing him into a firm hug, he released a soft grunt, eventually patting your back.

“Alright, alright.” Johnny announces, “I think it’s time, Cap. Where’s that baby?”

Christ sake, John internally groans. “Have you sanitized?”

◆

John “Soap” McTavish (~1.2k words)

Elsie McTavish

Is so excited about the baby that he sometimes forgets himself.

“I know, I know.” He’d respond, only half annoyed.

“Just, p-please,” Reaching out with shaky hands, you watched as Johnny swung your newborn infant around in his arms. “Watch her head!”

“Aye,” Johnny sighs, rolling those beautiful blue eyes.

Pulling her to his chest, he lets her head rest on one of those broad shoulders, bouncing a bit as he pats her on the back.

“How’mie supposed to have fun with my daughter if ye won’t stop nit-pickin’?”

“Baby, I’m just, I want her to be -”

“Safe, I know, bonnie. She is safe with me.” He then grins, turning to your daughter as he holds her up in front of him. “Aren’t ye, wee lassie?

And you suppose he’s right. Being a helicopter parent isn’t fun for anybody. Besides, Johnny loves your daughter enough to keep her safe and you should trust him with her.

“Ohh,” Johnny starts, and you think, here we go again. “Elsie and her daddy, say he’s a good ‘ole laddie. He’ll keep you safe and happy. We’ll play all day and sing away, yes Elsie and her daddy.”

Your husband’s makeshift songs never ceased to put a smile on your face. Johnny was always a fun and carefree man, but with your daughter? He was the goofiest dad.

Whenever you needed rest, he’d jump right to his feet, swooping in to take her to wherever she needed to be. The changing table for a new nappie, the kitchen for a bottle, or simply to the couch to give you some much-needed alone time. There was never a complaint, never a sigh or roll of his eyes. Oftentimes, you’d stumble into a room to find Johnny enjoying himself even more than Elsie. He became so animated when reading books to her, acting out scenes and making the noises of each animal. And it made her giggle wildly. He’d fidget with the toys on her playmat while she laid with him, roll the rattles around and build with the rings and blocks. But most of all, he’d interact with her. Regardless of her being barely two months old, Johnny had full-on conversations with your daughter.

“And then what happened?” He’d ask, sounding completely interested. And she’d babble back to him, as if she was truly joining in.

Nodding, he raised his brows. “That’s wild, lass. Shouldn't have to put up with that.”

Another babble, a little giggle.

“Aye, nothing wrong with that.”

Sometimes, she’d slam her little hand, and Johnny would raise his own in defense. “Oi, no need to get political about it.”

Johnny’s newest baby obsession is doing her hair. She was born with so much of it that he decided one day, he ought to do something about it. And so, he bought a pack of colorful bows, using them to make a little mohawk in her hair. You happened to walk in on him in the middle of it one day, your daughter sitting on his lap and cooing innocently while he made her look like a rockstar.

When he looked up to find you in the doorway, he grinned. “Like it?”

And you’d be daft to say it wasn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Your husband truly embraced the excitement and general fun of fatherhood. He figured enough seriousness surrounded her birth, why not make the rest of her life as joyful as can be?

It was an emergency C-Section, something neither of you were prepared for. There was no question of whether or not he’d be in the room with you, he simply put on the plastic hospital gown and cap and followed you in. His hand didn’t leave yours, not even for a second. Even though you were given medicine to dull the pain and any real feeling, he wanted you to know he was there.

When your daughter was successfully taken from your womb, things finally started calming down. After that, your health went back to normal. You didn’t lose too much blood, your stitches went in properly, and you were wheeled back to your room to start your recovery. Johnny was thanking the Lord that the two of you made it out okay, that both of his girls were safe. And while he waited for you to wake up, he sat in the room with your newborn baby, laying her over his chest while she slept.

“Little bonnie,” He whispered, kissing her head. “My Elsie girl.”

It was at that moment that she became his new best friend, his partner in crime, his perfect angel. He saw it as a privilege, really, taking care of you in your recovery while also caring for Elsie. Not everyone has this, he often thought to himself. My wonderful family.

And he couldn’t wait to show off his little clan.

As soon as she was ready for visitors, he invited everyone he possibly could. Friends, family, an entire get together just for her. And she was definitely her father’s daughter, blue eyes bright with excitement as each and every person greeted her with delight. Ever the extrovert herself, she giggled for hours, bouncing on people’s laps as they each took turns entertaining her.

“Oh, oh! And watch this!” Johnny says, setting down his glass and leaning toward his little girl. “Elsie, look at daddy!” And that’s just what she does, watching as Soap widens his eyes with his brows raised high. Perfectly, she mimics him.

“The smartest little thing!” Her nanny cheered, clapping with pride.

“Ah ken, ma!” Johnny responds to his mum, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. “She’s just a wee little thing, already clever as wits.”

And your side of the family couldn’t possibly be more proud. They’d been waiting for ages to have a grandbaby, and knew if they waited for the right time, you and Johnny would give them just that.

“Oh, what’s this about?” You chime in, frowning when Elsie suddenly begins to cry.

“She’s hungry, eh?” Your husband chuckles, reaching out to stroke her mini hand. “Go on then, go to mummy.”

The two of you were lucky enough to have a respectful family, entirely understanding of whenever you needed to take her away for a feeding. And oftentimes, Johnny would come with you. He saw it as a bonding moment, for all three of you. When he first asked, he seemed incredibly timid about it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you thought it sweet; him holding you, while you held your baby, lulling her to sleep with your warm milk.

“She’s dozing.” Johnny whispers into your ear, head dipping to kiss your shoulder.

Together, you’d gone up to your marital bedroom, sitting up on your bed. Johnny’s back rested against the headboard, while your own rested against his firm chest. He’d butterfly his legs out, welcoming you between them and holding you close with every limb. And sitting like this, is when Elsie was the coziest.

“You’re amazin’, bonnie.” Keeping his voice hush, Johnny rests his chin on your shoulder, admiring your baby from above. “Thank you, so much.”

“What for, baby?”

“For givin’ me her, our sweet Elsie. And just… bein’ with me. You’re everything to me.”

◆

König (~1.2k words)

Gisela and Avelina

He had been enamored since the moment the test showed positive.

The word paternal is the perfect description for him. Even before having a baby in his arms, König embraced fatherhood wholeheartedly. He read all the baby books, took you to all your classes and participated equally in them. Every night, he’d sit by your tummy and read, talk to the baby and sing German lullabies. He thought he had everything figured out, thought he was prepared in every way.

That is, until he learned that there were two of them.

“I… I can’t believe it.”

“Oh my gosh…”

Your collective shock made the doctor giggle, continuing to inform you that not only were they identical, they were girls.

“Daughters,” König then said, eyes widening. “Two daughters…”

Worry began to swirl inside your belly from his words, his hesitancy. Glancing up at him from your lying position, you asked quietly, “Are you not… you’re not happy?”

“My love,” Releasing a quick breath, he knelt by your side, immediately taking your hand. “I couldn’t be happier.” And he was beaming. “Daughters, Schatz. We’re going to have two little girls.” (Sweetheart)

And to prepare for their arrival, he bought nearly everything in sight.

“Schatz, look! Look at what I bought for them.” (Sweetheart)

Lumbering in with three shopping bags, he sat you down in the living room to show you everything he got to welcome your baby girls into the family. One by one, he pulled each item out, displaying multiple onesies, mini dresses, bows for their hair, new blankets and swaddles, the list goes on.

“So cute,” He muttered to himself, holding up a purple dress. And just hearing this mountain of a man use the word cute made you smile from ear to ear.

“Gisela will wear pink,” Your husband decides, “And Avelina, she will dress in purple. Matching, but different, ja?”

When König found out he was having two babies, he knew he’d have no problem giving them both an equal amount of love. He never once worried about having to devote time to each of them, make them each feel cared for and adored. In his mind, it wasn’t even a question. He knew he had more than enough affection to give to each of his girls.

He’d even gone out of his way to stock up on the essentials - diapers, creams, wipes and bottles. And although the twins won’t be able to use them for a few months, he also took it upon himself to buy some toys - mostly soft blocks, rattles, play mats, and stuffies.

“They’re going to be spoiled.” You grinned, not the least bit annoyed by your husband’s overzealous preparation. How could anyone be annoyed by that?

And now that they’re here, König finally has the opportunity to truly shower them with all his love. Every nighttime feeding was, in his words, their best time to bond. When the world is quiet, and you are finally resting, it’s just him and his daughters. And with his imaginative and resourceful talents, König figured out a way to tie their bottles to their little rockers, pushing the chairs back and forth as they ate. He never wanted to feed them one at a time, he thought it cruel to have one watch their sibling eat while they themselves were hungry.

Whenever the girls were done eating, he’d hold them, lay them both over his broad, bare chest, allowing them to feel his warm skin. It comforted the girls, cuddling with their father. You thought maybe one of them might favor you, but that hope quickly dwindled. They are definitely daddy’s girls. But it was hard to be jealous when every one of this trio’s interactions were breathtakingly sweet. Their bond was something that genuinely brought a tear to your eye, in both sentimental and humorous ways.

“GG!” He calls to her, holding up his phone. This nickname for your gorgeous daughter came quickly, along with Gisela-Bella, Ella, and your personal favorite… “Meine Schnuckel!”

“What does that even mean?” Chuckling to yourself, you watch as Gisela’s father attempts to take a picture of her.

“My cutie!” He answers cheerfully, your daughter looking right at him as soon as he says it.

“Yes! Perfect, my beauties.” And then he’s leaning over to show you. “Look, look at them. The cutest things. I’m so happy Ava was already looking.”

Avenlina’s nicknames consisted of Ava, Lina-Ballerina, and… “My little Spatzi.”

As if responding to her German name, Avelina babbles back to her father, just like she always does. Between the two of them, she was certainly the talker, always chirping away, König’s little sparrow.

The photo he shows you prompts a small laugh from your end, a wide smile growing across your lips. He’d dressed them up in the most adorables outfit you’d ever seen, strawberry and blueberry dresses. GG wore the pink one, of course, with Ava in blue. Each outfit had a berry hat and matching shoes, too.

Genuinely, he could never get enough of them. Whether it was spoiling the girls with presents or giving them every bit of his time, your husband did everything he could to be the best father. But there were times he’d have no choice but to hand them over to you, their daytime feedings being one of those scenarios. Although, it’s not like he didn’t join you.

Laying beside you in bed, he shifts onto his side, watching with love in his eyes. You’ve gotten used to feeding them both, being blessed with the ability to produce enough milk to sustain them. And while sitting back against the headboard, you do just that, rocking the girls gently as they drink.

“She has my eyes, don’t you think?” Reaching over, König taps little Gisela’s chin.

And he’s right; her piercing blue gaze is just like his. “Absolutely.”

“Sie sind so schön.” Whispering, he stares up at his daughters with sincere wonder in his eyes. “You made them.” (They are so beautiful)

“I know.” Giggling, you nod in response. “Do you think Ava has my nose?” You wonder aloud, watching as their eyelids begin to droop.

“Of course, that perfect little button.” He adds, gently booping his younger daughter’s nose. Though, only younger by two minutes.

Unable to help himself, König then leans in, placing a gentle kiss to Avelina’s head, being that she’s closest to him. And then one of those large hands is lifting, petting gently at his eldest’s thin, blonde hair.

“Let me put them to bed, Schatz.” (Sweetheart)

“No,” Whining quietly, you puff out your lower lip. “I wanna.”

It was something the two of you often ‘fought’ about; neither of you could get enough of your precious daughters. Even while giving birth, he practically tried to catch them with his bare hands. He was the first to hold them, each of them, even before they were placed on your chest. It made for quite the special moment, though. It was him who laid them onto you, one at a time, your little family coming together as you finally held your daughters, your sweet babies.

To König, there was nothing more inspiring than seeing you give birth to his daughters. You were fierce, powerful, and he was there to support you every step of the way. Hell, he was practically your birthing coach. He cheered you, doted on you until you’d insisted you were okay. In his mind, no one could care for you or your daughters better than him. And that caring instinct only continues to grow as your family does.

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley (~1.3k words)

Charlotte Riley

Isn’t quite sure what to do, and always looks to you for guidance.

It’s not that Simon doesn’t love his daughter, or isn’t interested in her, he’s just afraid. Afraid he’ll hurt her, make her cry or just do something wrong. He’s so big and she’s just so… little. She’s the most precious, fragile thing he’s ever seen and honestly, he’s wondering how he was even capable of making her.

“Do you want to hold her, Si?” Your voice is gentle, looking up at him with encouragement in your eyes. “She wants you.”

“I don’t know, love.”

The huge, menacing man you grew to love was quickly dwindled down to a nervous wreck when it came to your newborn daughter. He’d wring his hands, rub the back of his neck and constantly shift his stance. When Charlotte was with you, he was calm. But in literally every other scenario, he felt like he was about to lose his head.

During the birthing process, Simon was sweating bullets. You were in an ungodly amount of pain and he had no idea what to do, there wasn’t anything he could do. But after a moment, his instincts kicked in. Thanks to his background and general personality, his body often chooses to take action in these fight or flight instances. And he figured the best thing he could do was to just be there for you. He leaned down, wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kept his head right beside your own, holding your hand with his free one and letting you squeeze and claw him as hard as you needed to. You called out for him, crying miserably through the pain. It tore his insides to shreds, it was heart-wrenching.

“I’m here, I promise I’m here. And you’re so strong, sweetheart. You can do this, you can.”

And now, it’s your turn to reassure him.

“I promise it’ll be okay.” Pushing your folded arms out toward your husband, you bring her just a bit closer to him. “You don’t want to hold your baby?”

“I, I feel like…”

“Don’t be nervous, Si. She loves you, she trusts you. You can do this.”

He gulped then, eyes floating down to the small bundle in your hands. Only, it’s not just a small pile of blankets. It’s his daughter, his Lottie girl. And so, with a sigh, he nods, straightening his stance.

I can do this.

With a smile on your face, you watch as he gently, slowly, takes her from your arms.

“How, how do I -”

“Support her head.” Answering softly, you show him just how to do it, gently maneuvering his strong arms and large hands. “There you go, just like that.”

At first, you were annoyed with him. Did he not pay attention in your parenting classes? Did he not actually read the books you gave him? But an honest conversation quickly put those worries to rest. Simon did pay attention, he did read those books, he had all the knowledge he needed to succeed at this. But he just didn’t trust himself with it, with her. None of those classes prepared for him an actual baby. He thought he’d surely and properly fuck this up if given the chance, but right now, he’s proving himself wrong.

“Look at you, Si.” The reassurance in your tone makes his heart beat with happiness and pride. All he wants to do is please you, both of you.

Glancing down at his daughter, Simon nods, uttering a quiet yet confident, “Yeah…”

But a breath of air is quickly sucked in when he sees her squirm, his body stiffening immediately. You hold out your hands and pause, urging him to just wait. And within seconds, she’s calming down again, tiny body snuggling into his chest.

“She, um…”

“She loves you, baby.” Stepping closer, you slide a finger over her little hand, cooing, “You love your daddy, Lottie?”

“Stop it.” He orders playfully, eyes unwavering from Charlotte’s sweet face. And when you quirk a brow at him, he continues grumpily, “Making me all emotional.”

But what you said was true, he can do this. He wants to do this.

And he does.

It takes less than a week for Simon to get used to this, becoming so comfortable with your daughter that he openly scoops her up from your arms whenever he pleases. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of how to feed or burp her yet, but he has been helping you with diaper changes. He’ll watch you perform the task or explain a piece of it, and then he’ll do it, testing the waters a bit. It’s slow, but it’s progress.

What helps with this is his best mate, having a baby of his own to demonstrate.

“Hold the bottle like this.” Johnny instructs, showing Ghost how he holds his own daughter. “Yeah!”

“Alright,” Ghost nods, voice quiet and a bit shaky.

Charlotte’s head rests on the bulk of Simon’s bicep, the rest of her body cradled on his lap. And with the bottle perfectly angled, she drinks easily and happily. Elsie does the same, but that’s nothing new.

“Have you read to her?”

“Read to her? But… she doesn’t understand it, Johnny.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Soap shrugs, grabbing his baby’s backpack to pull out some of her favorite stories. Well, Johnny’s favorite stories. “Elsie loves it! Surely my little godlassie will, too.”

How that came about, nobody really knows. It sort of just… happened, the two of them being their daughter’s godfathers. Nobody fit the role better than them, it was just common knowledge.

Opening an interactive tale about animals in the jungle, Johnny reads to the girls, their eyes watching him intently. Now that they’re done eating, they focus on Johnny and the way he’s speaking, his facial expressions and movements.

“The monkey says… ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” Reaching forward, he quickly tickles their tummies, watching as they erupt into laughter. “Here Si, you give it a go.”

Shoving the book into his hands, he watches his friend gulp. It’s as if an entire crowd is in front of him, and not his best friend and two baby girls.

“The, um… the lion says… roar.”

The girls do nothing, and Johnny rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, put your heart into it! The lion says roar!”

Clearing his throat, Ghost nods, staring at the simple picture book. “The lion says… ROAR!”

But instead of giggling, the girls start crying, and Simon is tossing the book down in an instant. Scooping his daughter up into his arms again, he mutters a grumpy Christ while patting her back and bouncing her lightly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy’s sorry.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but Johnny can still hear him. And he smiles.

“Don’t worry about it.” Keeping his chuckles to himself, Johnny then says, “Lottie’s got a great dad. I can tell.”

“How in the bloody hell is this so hard?” His voice is still low, keeping his cheek beside her own in an attempt to comfort her.

“You’ll get the hang of it.” Soap is resting easy, having calmed his daughter down in less than a minute. “What d’ya say we have a day together? Just us four?”

“And do… what?” Simon hasn’t yet mastered the art of interacting with his tiny baby. He doesn’t know what she’s receptive to. But how will he ever know if he never tries?

“We can go to the zoo! Practice those lion roars.” Johnny jokes with a grin, watching his best mate roll his eyes. “Really though, it’ll be good for the girls.” And you, but he doesn’t say that part out loud.

“That… actually sounds nice.” The hammering heartbeat in his chest has slowed now that his daughter has grown silent, only small coos slipping from her lips.

Honestly, Simon doesn’t know what he’d do without you and Johnny. He’d be completely lost, and in more ways than one. But with your collective encouragement, he finds himself growing into his fatherly role more and more every day.

◆

Bonus - Uncle!Price (~500 words)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) Underage drinking, mentions of drug usage, partying.

“You’re shitting me.” He says into the phone, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t mean to, Pricey. Promise!”

Charlotte’s tone on the other end of the phone only makes the situation worse; she’s very clearly inebriated. The background noise doesn’t help the conversation, either, nothing but boisterous teenagers shouting and singing.

“What pub are you at?”

“Not at one,” Hiccuping, she then swallows. “At a… party.”

“Christ, Lottie.” But he’s already walking out to his car and starting the engine. “Text me the address, lovie.”

“You won’t tell dad?” She whispers on the other end, as if Simon could somehow hear her.

“No, hun. But you’ve got to be better about this.”

It wasn’t the first time John had picked his niece up from a situation like this. Out of the group’s kids, she was definitely the partier. As soon as she hit her teenage years, she ran Simon up a goddamn wall. But she honestly didn’t mean to, she wasn’t a bad kid. She just sometimes got herself into bad situations. There had even been times at her friends' houses where she was uncomfortable and nervous, times when they’d bring hard drugs she wasn’t expecting or willing to experiment with. These situations made her far too nervous to contact her dad, fearing he’d just be angry with her. That’s where Uncle Price came in.

Of course, if she was ever hurt or in serious danger, he’d tell her parents straight away. But in these types of situations, he figures he’s helping her dodge a bullet. He knows how harsh Simon can be, and after all, she’s just a teen. At the end of the day, she’s safe, and that’s what matters.

“Thank you for calling me. Last thing we need is you driving like this, or driving with someone else like this.”

“Yeah…” Trailing off, she sighs. And in this small lull, John hears a familiar voice.

“Who -” He pauses, did he really just hear who he thought he heard?! “Who was that?!”

“Um… who?”

“You know who!”

“Is he coming?” The voice then says, and Charlotte is quick to hush him.

“Benjamin!” John shouts, eyes wide as he continues to drive. “You’re there too?!”

Handing the phone to her cousin, Benji gives the excuse of, “Had to look after her, da.”

“Yeah, right job you did there.” His father returns, nodding. “Anyone else I should know about?”

“Well… maybe.”

“Elsie! C’mon! Uncle John is almost here!”

Christ sake.

Groaning, John rubs the bridge of his nose. “You lot are out to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of fun!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling his eyes, he peers out the window while at a stop light.

Internally though, John is grinning. This entire situation is reminding him of his own memories, recalling the crazier nights of his youth. What an absolute shitshow, that was. And on top of that, he didn’t have the type of parents that could get him out of tough cracks, they just didn’t understand. He had to rely on himself. And now, he’s glad these kids can rely on him, too.

#cod fanfiction #Call of Duty fanficiton #Simon Riley #Simon “Ghost” Riley #John McTavish #John “Soap” McTavish #John Price #Captain John Price #Konig

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 1 year ago

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hi! could you possibly share the intercept new report about gay men and their misogyny? i know this isn't really about br politics, and im not even sure if it is in English, but i think it is really important to be shared

I hope it's not too late 😅

Gay men and misogyny: no more ignoring this problem

'Don't talk about vaginas around me': for a long time, we ignored the disqualifications of women and the feminine made by gay men. No more.

"If I liked women, I would have become a gynecologist."

"The law of gravity is a crime against women."

“Funny” gay guys, usually white and showing a certain hatred towards females, are a very common social type in contemporary pop culture. The character Felix “Bicha Má” ["Evil Fag"], played by Mateus Solano, from the Brazilian soap opera “Amor à Vida” [Love For Life], is an easy example in Brazilian lands – the sentences that open this text are his. But this sharp-tongued young man who directs much of his bitterness towards women, including friends and relatives, has never only lived on screens: he is a common presence in our daily lives.

"Oh, don't mention a vagina around me, I get all messed up."

"My goodness, this singer was beautiful, but she got old and ugly."

"Get out of here, I don't even like cracks."

I can't say how many times I've heard phrases like that from fellow gay men. For a long time, these ways of disqualifying women – despite the certain discomfort felt by every person who is repeatedly the target of prejudice – were endorsed and reflected by women ourselves. Offenses dressed as “I was just joking” have largely naturalized these forms of disqualification, but the good news is that, in an environment in which feminism has gained ground, what seemed to be just a joke is now named by the right word: misogyny.

This is a delicate subject, since we are talking about people – mostly cisgender gay men – who have been and still are victims of a series of violence, whether at home, at work, on the streets. Perhaps it was precisely this that made us, cisgender or transgender women, leave the discomfort of being made fun of in the background. After all, confronting homophobia in a sexist country like Brazil is no simple task. But if this machismo affects homosexual men, what can we say about its presence in women's daily lives? And what can we also say about the homophobia directed at cis/trans homosexual and bisexual women, especially invisible and also targets of “jokes” by gay men?

“I had a very close gay friend, like a brother. We went out to parties together and often slept in the same bed, at my house or his. Several times, as if he were joking, he said that he was terrified of vaginas, that he was born through a cesarean section so he wouldn't have to go through one. He'd gesture the sign of the Cross and said ‘God forbid’, smiling,” says Adriana Conceição, 47 years old, a telemarketing operator from Recife who, like several other women, took a while to classify the guy's actions with the right word.

Game developer Renata Gomes, also 47 years old, found herself at the center of a virtual outrage after questioning a post by a gay Brazilian film critic living in the United States. In the post, he talked about missing Brazil, since people worked a lot more in the USA. Faced with the possibility of his speech being reductive and stereotypical, he began to treat Renata as “ugly”, “militant”, “frustrated”. Furthermore, several of the critic's friends entered the comments to reiterate the delegitimization of Renata's speech.

Younger people also identify the problem: aware of the issue, Curitiba university student Nicoly Grevetti, aged 24, listened to several people who circulate in LGBTQIA+ spaces about the subject and wrote a text about it. In it, she also identifies how pop and queer cultures, supposedly safer and “modern”, also present misogynistic elements.

One example is the use of the term “fishy”, constantly evoked to define drag queens who closely resemble cisgender women (that is, who have a high degree of “passability”). The expression refers to the smell that these women's vaginas supposedly have. “[Cisgender] women grow up believing that their private parts are disgusting and spend their entire lives using products to reduce their natural odors, which can lead to various diseases. Having female genitalia as something disgusting is so common for this group, that you can find countless reports of women talking about it on the internet,” she wrote. The topic was the subject of discussion in the famous series RuPaul’s Drag Race, generating academic works like this one. Cisgender drag queen Victoria Scone, a former participant in the show, also spoke on the topic.

A few months ago, I experienced a significant episode of this machismo and misogyny that had been attenuated for a long time in relation to gay men. I was in a doctor's office very close to a shopping center in the south of Recife. After the end of the consultation, the dermatologist – homosexual, white, in his late thirties, and anti-Bolsonaro in the last elections – lightly tapped my hand and said: “Okay, now you can go for a walk in the mall.”

Especially on that day, I was rushing to finish presenting a lecture that I would give the following day, online, at the University of Coimbra. Obviously, if I wanted to window shop or spend the afternoon reading celebrity magazines, it wouldn't be a problem (in fact, I love it). The point here was the doctor's obvious intention to fit me into the cliché of the futile and consumerist woman, a sexist and anachronistic way of disqualifying the female gender. Icing on the cake: while I was leaving, the gay boy warned me not to forget to take “the boss” to my next appointment. He was referring to my romantic partner.

If it's feminine, it's smaller

The misogyny present in the practices of part of this population is so evident that it goes beyond the boundaries of gender and occurs between equals: it is common to see it operating even among gay men themselves. Research I carried out in partnership with Professor Ricardo Sabóia, from the Federal University of Pernambuco, analyzed the relationship between body and celebrity on the Grindr app. I was astonished by both the hatred towards what is socially seen as feminine and the extremely high level of normativity, standardization, and even elitism. “'I'm not into effeminate guys” is a constant, as is “I'm not into fat guys”.

In this environment of extremely high value for toned biceps and abs, being masculine – and looking very masculine – is the strongest currency. Thus, men seen as “little women” are disqualified. This is what researcher Carlos Alberto de Carvalho calls “misogynistic heteronormativity”, in which the masculine and masculinities are placed as positive – on the other hand, femininities and the feminine are valued negatively. It is, therefore, an environment of hegemonic masculinity and subaltern masculinities.

The global soap opera “Terra e Paixão” [Land & Passion] currently features an illustration that refers to this scenario, with the character Kelvin (actor Diego Martins), an “effeminate” gay man in love with Ramiro (Amaury Lorenzo), the masculine man, self-declared heterosexual, who desires the other person, but still doesn't know how to deal with the situation. What diminishes the power of the first is precisely its proximity to what is considered “womanly”. But, looking at Grindr, even the desirable “brucutu” [Brazilian slang for a brute and rude man] has his limits: issues such as level of education have weight in the app used mostly by gay and bisexual men, where it is common to read “no illiterates”.

The LGBTQIA+ culture, in which rich and middle-class white homosexual men repeatedly appear to discriminate against other peers from the same community, is a central sociological issue for discussing social inequalities not only in Brazil, but throughout the world. “Queer cultural production has helped to reproduce class distinctions based on the hegemony of representations of middle-class gays”, writes Lisa Henderson in the article “I’m not/I'm not into: circulating meanings in the presentation speeches of the Grindr app”, by Rafael Grohmann. In the same text, Juan Marsiaj summarizes: “Such a strategy can lead to the acceptance of a type of gay (white, middle class), seen as a model of citizen-consumer, and a greater marginalization of all other 'debauches' who do not fit this way. In more Brazilian terms: there is a risk of accepting rich gays and further marginalizing poor queers.”

Discrimination on the part of this part of the queer community was evidenced in a historic episode in the 1970s, in super liberal New York. In June 1973, the Christopher Street Liberation Day Rally took place in the city, a demonstration held in favor of the rights of the queer population – which, at that time, as we will see, in fact was basically limited to white, middle-class gay women and men.

But, among the public, was the activist Sylvia Rivera, a transvestite who in 1971 had created the Revolutionary Action of Street Transvestites, STAR. Rivera had been trying to get on stage for some time, but Jean O’Leary, a lesbian white radical feminist, acted to prevent her from participating. A sample of how, many times, cisgender homosexual/bisexual women also enact the same discrimination as homosexual/bisexual men.

When he finally managed to grab the microphone, Rivera took aim at the hundreds of mostly white gay men and women present. Her speech is a synthesis of the violence experienced by queers who are too effeminate, too poor, too black, or too latine.

“I've tried to speak out here all day for your gay brothers and sisters in jail. They write to me every damn week asking for help – and you don't do a damn thing for them. I lost my job and my apartment for gay liberation… and you guys treat me this way?” she screamed.

The anger had yet another weight and meaning: alongside another important name, the transvestite Marsha P. Johnson, Rivera went down in history as one of the first to face police repression at the New York bar Stonewall Inn, on June 28, 1969. The conflict was the trigger for a fundamental civil movement for human rights – so much so that the date ended up becoming what was then called International LGBT+ Pride Day.

The question remained: how could that engaged audience repudiate the person who, at just 18 years old, spoke out against violence that was not directed just at her? How could they recriminate someone who pulled the trigger that would benefit precisely that white homosexual population?

Rivera and Johnson, who lived in a shelter, were profoundly different from the majority of the public who would return to their comfortable homes after the demonstration. Unlike Rivera, the daughter of a Venezuelan mother and a Puerto Rican father, most had not spent nights in jail or suffered police rape. The activist died homeless, alone, without the care she should have received. Marsha P. Johnson, the decorated, made-up, smiling, super queer transvestite, was murdered and her body thrown into a river.

Thinking historically and humanly about both is a central issue in the debate on hatred of “feminine” and other diverse discriminations present among the LGBTQIA+ population. The right-wing has long opened a war against women, and the rise of red pill assholes is just one of the phenomena of this reality. It still includes names like former federal deputy Daniel Silveira, who broke the plaque with Marielle's name alongside Rodrigo Amorim. [Note from the translator: Marielle Franco was a black bisexual favela-born leftist councilwoman who was assassinated by militias.]

But, as it turns out, misogyny is not exclusive to right-wing radicals and conservatives. And if Sylvia and Marsha were on the front line to guarantee the rights of millions of people, without distinction of creeds, race, genders, and degrees of “femininity”, it is worth asking: when will cisgender gay men, mostly white and middle class, join, with emphasis and strength, debates such as the right to abortion, employment, and wages, issues of life and death for the majority of black Brazilian women? When will the majority of this same group take a stand on the thousands of rapes that mainly victimize girls and teenagers? What collectivities, after all, are we talking about? As Jorge Ben would say in the song Zumbi: I want to see. We're here.

Source, translated by the blogger.

#LGBT #feminism #asks #anonymous #translations and summaries #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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