You couldn’t be quite certain of how long you remained sitting in that room, too frightened to move.
It was very possibly that you had only been alone for a few minutes; but perhaps it had actually been closer to a couple of hours.
At this point, it was really anyone’s guess.
You were confused, upset, and cold, the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins, causing your front teeth to bang together with an audible clack. The runny liquid coating your inner thighs, calves, and ankles made your maternity jeans feel stiff to the touch, more than likely chafing your soft skin.
“F…Fu…Fuck,” you chattered, clawing your fingernails into the wooden armrest of your chair until they began to bleed.
As you were more concerned with the idea that you might be giving birth to your son, completely alone, on a questionably clean floor, you couldn’t tell whether your contractions had begun; though, you would bet dollars to doughnuts that they had.
In other words, you needed to move,
Pinching your shoulder blades together, and pushing upward with your arms, you balanced yourself on the balls of your feet, before waddling out of the room, a small trail of pinkish colored liquid following in your wake. Doing everything in your power to keep from stumbling, you pressed your hand against the wall, and made sure to move your feet deliberately.
Approaching the light at the end of the long hallway, you shoved through the heavy door, thankful to find the father of your child, Dean Winchester, hanging a long gun on the wall of your shared bedroom, his back turned towards you.
“Are you ready to talk this out, [Y/N], or would you prefer to throw a few extra punches?” he questioned, not needing to turn around in order to see who stood behind him. “…’cause if it’s the latter, would ya’ try to aim above the belt this time?”
“D…D…Dean,” you rasped, hardly able to force the words past clattering teeth as another tremor raced down the length of your spine. “De…D…Dean.”
Hunching his shoulders protectively, Dean turned, his green eyes holding the faintest amount of suspicion. Although the room was too dim for him to see the watermark staining the crotch of your bluejeans, the Winchester scrunched his face, every instinct telling him that something was amiss.
“What?” he asked, cocking his head to the right, and dropping his shoulders, his knuckles brushing against his pockets. Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed, he scanned the length of your body, his gaze slowing when he came to your rounded belly. “What is it?”
“M…My wa…water b…br…broke,” you stated in explanation, watching as Dean’s expression shifted from confusion, to realization, to worry. “I…I’m in l…labor.”
“You’re in labor?” he inquired, the pitch of his voice increasing as panic began to set in. “I mean, couldn’t the baby, you know, be lying on your bladder, or something?”
“I…I th…think I kn…know the dif…d…difference, De…Dean,” you shared, keeping your tone as gentle as possible. wanting to avoid picking another fight in the midst of the chaos.
“So? You’re in labor?” he asked again, closing the gap to place his steadying hands on your upper arms. Green eyes locating the trail of fluid dripping off of your pants, down onto the floor, and leading into the hallway. “Like, you’re about ready to pop our kid out?”
“Y…Yes,” you confirmed, allowing Dean’s somewhat childish description of the birthing process to slide. “…An…And I’d p…prefer that it d…doesn’t h…happen on the fl…f…floor of our b…bed…bedroom.”
“Right,” he said, giving you a reassuring smile. Cheekily, Dean raised his eyebrows before leaping forward, wrapping his arm around your waist, and scooping you into the air. Kissing your jaw, and leaning his forehead against your temple, he whispered into your ear. “Let’s go have us a baby.”
HEY GUYS so this is what I spent my afternoon doing… doing a full makeup and wig test for Ayr and then taking selfies because why the hell not.
Mostly wanted to focus on something and doing makeup always seems to make me feel better so… idk.
Also wanted to see how the ears and everything looked with the short wig, since it’s the one I’ll likely be wearing for my full armor cosplay of Ayr in May! I LOVE how the wig hides where the ears attach to my own, makes them look more realistic ♥
HOPEFULLY I’ll manage some sort of writing this week guys I’m sorry, but no promises! Weddings the next two weekends blaaaah… @_@ ♥ Take care! ♥
Sunday’s female celebrity of the day is Kirsten Dunst. It’s been a week since the Emmys and, having had a week to think about it, I’ve come to the conclusion that I really loved Kirsten Dunst in this dress at the Emmys! This is the twelfth time she’s been FCOTD.