give birth to yourself

Transition feels like giving birth to yourself.

Transition feels like giving birth to yourself.

It’s painful. Sometimes it feels like it will never end. There’s occasionally blood, often screaming, often tears. But at the end, you take that first deep breath and feel yourself filling with life, electricity rippling through you.

Y'know…

I never hated her. I only hated how she felt. She was beautiful. I loved her enough to see that she couldn’t keep doing this. I loved her enough to recognize her suffering and release her. She created me; without her, I wouldn’t exist.

Not many people get to say they were awake and present at their own conception.

We’re lucky that way.

Friendly Reminder

Diana Farley is my new feminist icon. I can’t even list everything she does to earn my utmost admiration.

  • She’s plotting and planning throughout the whole book.
  • She wants to save Mare at the slightest possible chance.
  • She becomes friends with snarky and sometimes insufferable Cameron and isn’t insulted by her jibes.
  • She never leans back.
  • She seriously doesn’t take any patronizing shit.
  • “Diana, you can’t -?”

    “Because I’m pregnant? I assure you, I can handle two tasks at once. And it’s General now. Act accordingly.”

  • She finally becomes friends with Mare.
  • “I didn’t ask about your family. I asked about you. For once, I’m giving you permission to whine about yourself, Lightning Girl.”

  • She gives Mare birth control while actually giving birth.
  • She brings her newborn baby with her to war councils. Because why not, she can handle two tasks at once.
  • She goes back into battle just weeks after having a child.
  • she still misses her deceased lover and knows his kid can’t replace him

Becoming a mother doesn’t mean your dreams and ambitions are over.

Little Red Wagon

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,116

Warnings: ANGST OUT THE ASS, mentions of a child dying, mentions of wanting to die, lying, heartache….yeah….

Requested by @haniiix33: So..the reader once lost her little son because of some accident but she kept it as a secret bc she was scared that Dean wouldn’t love (or accept) her. Someday she gets confronted with the situation or something that reminds her of her son. She opens up to Dean and shows him the place where she buried her son…something like that?

A/N: So I literally cried my eyes out while writing this which is something that never happens to me….you guys have fun with this one….(unbeta’d any and all mistakes are my own)

Originally posted by findmeplease

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Imagine you work in a doll shop... (Part I)

Ever since you were young, you had always dreamed of having a large family- being constantly swollen and round with children, feeling them kick and tumble around inside you. There was only one problem: you were downright terrified of the pain that came with giving birth. Just the idea of feeling yourself be stretched so much was absolutely unbearable, to the point where you always made certain that your birth control prescription was met and your husband wore a condom every time the two of you had sex. However, as time went on, it was becoming gradually more apparent that your husband was getting frustrated with your unwillingness. He sat you down and had a long talk with you about epidurals and other painless birth options, but you wouldn’t hear any of it. There was always the off chance that it would hurt regardless, and that was something you just couldn’t risk. That same night, you both slept in different rooms. The next morning, while getting ready for work, you decided to check on your husband, who was still sound asleep on the couch. Even in his sleep, it was obvious that he was unhappy- his brow holding a slight furrow, his lips tightly pursed. At the sight, you felt a sudden pang of guilt. After all, it wasn’t his fault that you were so afraid of giving birth. And you knew how badly he wanted children. Later that morning, you quietly stepped into the shop, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you eased the door shut behind you. The sight you were met with was a comfortingly familiar one; dozens of painted faces perched above plastic bodies clothed in perfectly pleated, tightly laced dresses, bright, sparkling eyes framed by delicately curled hair in a variety of shades. There was no question that these were some of the most lifelike and realistic dolls made in the area, each roughly the same size as a toddler and weighing almost as much. You knew from firsthand experience just how heavy they were, given how many times you’d had to load them into boxes to be shipped, or had to stock the countless shelves with them. Moving past the dolls, you found your boss in the workroom, busy threading hair into the scalp of an unfinished doll. Mumbling a halfhearted greeting, you stepped past him to the sewing table, where you got to work hemming the dress that the semi-hairless doll was to wear. The longer you sewed, the more you let your mind wander, and the worse you felt about the fight you’d had with your significant other. The guilt must have eventually started to show on your face, as soon, your boss piped up, quietly mentioning that you had never been very good at hiding your feelings. With that, you broke down completely, clutching your face in your hands as you tearfully explained your predicament. More than anything, you wanted to get past your phobia of pregnancy, and give your husband the family that the two of you had wanted for so long. Your boss just sat there, listening, until finally, as you took a moment to blow your nose with a tissue, he spoke. “I would like to help you with that.” Those were words that simultaneously made you afraid and exhilarated. On one hand, you had no idea how he planned to help you. On the other, you were becoming so desperate that you were willing to try just about anything. Reluctantly, you nodded, relenting to his request. With a large, friendly smile, he stood, motioning for you to come over to the workbench he was using. Curiosity slowly began to seep into you as you yourself rose, joining him next to the table cluttered with tools. Quickly, your boss began clearing a large area of the wooden surface, leaving it all too available for whatever was going to happen next. “Sir? What’re you-” Before you could so much as finish your sentence, he shoved you down, trying to force you to lay flat on the workbench. Though he was an older man, you happened to be on the small side, meaning you no match for him. Still, you struggled and fought, trying to kick at him as he bound your wrists to the legs of the table, your arms tightly secured by two brightly colored strips of cloth. As you tried to tug your hands free, he took the opportunity to yank off the jeans you were wearing, quickly followed by your flimsy panties. As the cold air brushed against your nethers, it hit you: he was going to rape you. Tears filled your eyes for the second time that day as you stopped your struggling, going limp against the wood. Parting your lips, you let out a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t do this…” “I won’t harm you, dear. Though, I can’t promise that this isn’t going to hurt.” He almost sounded apologetic as he tied your ankles to the other two legs of the table, forcing your own legs to remain spread wide, bent upwards at the knees. What was he going to do to you? Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t catch his murmured words of reassurance as something soft began caressing your folds. With a shudder, you realized that he was teasing your sex with his fingers. A soft gasp managed to escape you as he slipped one finger inside you, followed by another, and then another. It was uncomfortable at first, but your body quickly adjusted, your opening growing wet to accommodate the intrusion. As he pressed into your clit with his thumb, you let out your first moan, your chest beginning to heave as your breaths turned shallow and strained. You almost wanted to whine as he pulled back, wiping off his fingers with a cloth. You tried to lift your head to see what he was doing, but you couldn’t see past the workbench as your boss hunched over, pulling something out from a box underneath. However, as he stood back up, you could feel the color drain from your cheeks, your hands curling into shaking fists. In his hands was another doll, this one without a painted face, hair, or clothes. Cradled gently in his arms, it almost looked like a newborn infant, the kind you so desperately craved. With a sudden rush you felt the guilt flood back into you, that all-too-familiar feeling that had eaten away at your marriage. Consumed with emotion, you barely noticed as your boss stepped back over, lowering the doll towards your open legs. Without warning, you felt a sudden pain blossom in your sex, a sharp pinching sensation that wrenched a shriek from you. Your head snapped back up, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the unwelcome feeling. The sight that met your eyes was something that you had definitely not expected to see. Pushed brutally hard against your vulva was the head of the unfinished doll, your boss’s hands trying to force it in deeper- force it into your body. Before you could stop yourself, a string of panicked words tumbled out of your mouth, gradually increasing in pitch until they bordered on nothing more than a shriek. “NO! DON’T! PLEASE, OH GOD, IT’S NOT GOING TO FIT!” You desperately yanked and pulled at the bindings on your wrists, praying that somehow you could get free and put an end to this madness. Still, he persisted, continuing to press on the doll, putting his entire weight behind the single continuous shove. The stinging pain twisted itself into a deep, unbearable ache as the doll reached your pelvis, the plastic meeting a hole that was far too small for it to pass through. You could feel the entire weight of the object, ridiculously heavy and bulky as it somehow managed to slide deeper and deeper, working its way into your canal against all odds. Despite your pleas, he still continued to put that intolerable pressure on your body, determined to slide the doll into you. You had been lying there for what must have been an hour before you finally felt the doll reach its last obstacle: your cervix. The ache that you thought couldn’t get any worse tripled as hard plastic met the unweilding muscle, stubbornly trying to force it open. Your only relief was the series of screams that tore out of your throat, one after another until you were too hoarse to continue. Fresh tears trickled down across your face as the doll suddenly thrust deeper inside of you, into what could only be your womb. As you looked down, you could see the bulge in your lower stomach, signifying that the head had entered the deepest part of you at last. “Hush, dear. It’s almost over. The head was the difficult part.” His words did little to soothe you, and you clenched your teeth, letting out a hissing, forced breath as the rest of the doll was pushed into your abused uterus. You watched with disbelief as your belly grew before your eyes, plumping out into a round, pregnant sphere that rested heavily on your tiny frame. Though there wasn’t nearly as much pain as there was during the insertion, you still felt sore, and you were so incredibly full that you were sure you were about to burst. The doll took up every last inch of space in your swollen womb, stuffing you so large that you looked to be pregnant with at least twins. You groaned in relief as you felt your boss cut through the ties on your wrists. Freed at last, your hands flew to your massive tummy, experimentally poking and prodding at it. The bulge was utterly rock-hard, no doubt due to the doll within. Wincing, you tenderly rubbed the taut flesh. There was no possible way that your situation could get any worse. That was when he spoke, his own fingertips lightly brushing the surface of your belly. “You did so well, dear. I’ll let you rest for a bit, and then we can continue.” ———————————————————————————————

Hey, guys! You can call me Absinthe. Long-time lurker of the blog, finally decided to actually post something myself. Hope you enjoyed, and there should be a part 2 coming soon!            

2

baby blues ~ Derek hale

Prompt ~ Derek hears a 3rd heartbeat works out reader is pregnant and goes missing for a while 

Pairing ~ Derek hale x reader 

Warnings ~ swearing


 
Story
Life wasn’t always easy, after your mother had died your father turned to alcohol to deal with the grief, quickly becoming an alcoholic, drunk and violent he blamed you for his wife’s death. You ran away aged 15 and had lived on the streets. So when the Hales offered you a home and the pack became a family you flew at the chance.
For 6 months things had been incredible you and Derek had secretly started dating until Peter and Lydia figured it out but the both agreed to keep your relationship a secret too.

You woke one morning to find Derek wasn’t in bed which was unusual, he wasn’t in he loft either puzzled thinking where he was, the door bell buzzed breaking you out of your own thoughts  as you stood up walking to open it you had a strange feeling something was wrong that you couldn’t shake.
Opening the door you saw Lydia smiling at me “shopping trip” she squealed you groan realising you had completely forgotten. After inviting her in getting washed and dressed as she shouted all the places she wanted us to go. Finally getting dressed your went to the living room, “you okay? You look a little pale” Lydia asked. You nod saying yes while writing a note for Derek telling him you had gone out for the day.

Lydia had dragged you into 4 different shops already and it was only just turning midday. Feeling tired and a little sick you both went for dinner, when your [y/f/m] arrived you felt so sick you can’t bring yourself to eat it. The smell from the food court was also making you nauseous, a bubbling in your stomach made you jump up and run to the toilet. Lydia followed with all the bags as you finished vomiting. “what’s wrong?” She asked looking a little worried with her phone in her hand texting. “don’t know something I eat maybe, I feel ill can we go home” you say wiping your face in the mirror.

You returned home with Lydia helping you in to find Peter hale sat on the couch. “you look like crap y/n” he said. “and it’s nice to see you to peter” you say with a hint of sarcasm. Peter laughed standing up to hug you “I’ve missed you little beta” peter said,
Peter was the reason you met Derek and found a home Peter had found you living on the street and bite you to save you dying of pneumonia. You became Peter’s beta looking up to him like a big brother.

“is Derek home” you asked with a weak smile. Peter shook his head no “I think he’s got something he needs to do he’ll be a day or two he told me when he called for me to come here”  he said strangely looking you up and down.
Confused to why Derek never told you he was going away for a few days, you went to ask Peter another question but as you opened your mouth you throw up all over the floor. Lydia left leaving you in the hands of Peter she was unsure if it was the right thing to do but she had no choice he was almost pushing her out the door.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you had became sick with no change you was still vomiting all the time and Derek was still gone making you feel worse sick with worry. Both you and Peter had been trying to reach Derek but his phone was off. Peter wanted to take you to Deaton worried about how sick and tired you always was, but being stubborn you refused saying you didn’t need a doctor or a vet for a virus, Peter gave in but told you to stay in bed until you was better.
The Pack was starting to worry about Derek, he wouldn’t answer his phone or any text messages. No one had seen or heard from him, Scott had called everyone Braeden, Chris argent, Isaac Lahey even Lydia called Aidan but with no luck.

Scott called a meeting at the McCall house after Peter had stopped the pack coming to the loft with you being sick. After Peter had gone out, you got dressed and went to Scott’s. Melissa opened the door  "their all in the kitchen" she said smiling. Walking in you could hear stiles and Scott talking “we could track his phone maybe get my dad or Parrish to help” stiles said. You chuckled he really was smarter then anybody gave him credit for.
“hi everyone” you started to say but stopped when you saw Peter stood in the corner. He looked mad, the look in his eyes told you what his words didn’t “I thought I told you to stay in”. Looking at everyone but Peter you sat down ignoring what he’d said. “how you feeling y/n?” Lydia asked you nodded “Im good I’ve been feeling better the last few days” you lied. You didn’t care that you was sick you wanted to help find Derek.

Peter scoffed and snorted, you looked at him with daggers “what Peter, something you want to say?” you snarled at him. “oh the is plenty I want to say” he started. Rolling your eyes (a habit you had picked up from Derek) “well you love to hear yourself talk, so speak!” you demand.
“well first how about you stop lying I heard you vomiting at 6am this morning, and ever morning for the last week, or how about when I tell you to see Deaton your stubborn ass refuses saying your so called virus will go on a few days. well a few days has been and your still sick and I bet you still won’t go” now very angry, Peter’s eyes glowed blue as he walked out the door.
You ran out after him “okay your right I’m still sick but I think I know why!” peter stopped and came close to you “it’s Derek I’ve been sick since the day he left. He’s my mate I think because where apart it’s making me ill. So I’m staying and helping you and the pack find him” you told Peter. He smiled knowing it was the first honest thing you had told him in days but couldn’t help but huff knowing you was wrong.

He was about to tell you what he knew what he’d heard the first day he came back, what he believed made Derek leave but saw Scott and the rest of the group in the doorway listening and watching you both. “ you want to help! You look like shit, stiles could blow on you and you’d hit the floor! You can’t help yourself find a glass of water never mind find Derek” he yelled storming out regretting what he’d said but hoped it would make you take a step back. Groaning you turned to face your friends suddenly feeling dizzy, little white dots appeared in your vision, closing your eyes you feel yourself and hit the ground.

Peter was at the car when he heard shouts coming from the McCall house. he watched as Scott ran out with y/n in his arms Melissa and stiles close behind all 3 getting into stiles jeep. He stood confused and worried he walked to the house without taking his eyes of the jeep as it’s engine hummed to life. Lydia ran out the door almost bumping into Peter “what’s happened to y/n” he asked the banshee with nothing but concern. “she collapsed I’ll explain let’s get to the hospital” she said hurrying Peter to his car the drove to the vets to pick up Deaton and then headed to beacon hills memorial.

At the hospital Melissa got a gurney and rushed you into a room one of her Co workers asking why she was in early “my sons friend collapsed” she said rushing past the nurses station. She had begun tests by the time Peter Lydia and Kira had arrived also placing y/n on a drip to give her fluids. Melissa walked in happy to see you now awake, looking at your results  "well I’ve finished you blood tests and I know why you fainted, your" Melissa started. Peter and the others was walking into the room as Melissa spoke “pregnant” both Melissa and Peter said together.

The whole room let out a simultaneous gasp, then a silence most thinking the same thing who is the father some turning to look at Peter.
Deaton and Melissa where both looking over your medical notes, “no! No! I’m not pregnant I’ve just sick I have a bug or something, I can’t be pregnant” you started to say. “may I?” Deaton asked with a gesture to examine you. Nodding you watched stiles gave Peter a devil stair. “your definitely pregnant about 4 weeks I’d say” the vet said feeling your stomach, as he pushed you felt something inside you hit (well kick) back against his hand. Everyone watched as doctor

Deaton carried on poking and pushing you, listening to you stomach. “looks like it’s a little wolf too but it doesn’t explain why your so sick” he said calmly looking at Peter. He was still looking you over shining lights in your eyes. You was trying to wrap your head around it “I’m giving birth to a werewolf in 8 months” you whispered to yourself but Deaton heard you “months no! Your a werewolf your baby is one too, your going to give birth in around 5-8 weeks” he smiled at you “what weeks” stiles asked “yes wolf pregnancy is only 9-12 weeks y/n is already 4 weeks so about 2 months left” the vet chucked.
Peter stood in the corner with a smirk “the is going to be a new wolf in the family” he giggled amused. “so you are sleeping with her?” stiles said, he looked like he was about to charge at Peter “what, no” peter looked at stiles like he’d said the most stupidest or disgusting thing ever. “It’s Derek’s isn’t? ” Scott asks looking directly at you. Still with your head in your hands you sigh nodding before looking at your friend “how did you know” your quietly say. “I heard you and Peter arguing in my hallway you said you think your sick because Derek was gone your his mate”. You roll your eyes knowing now you have to explain to the pack how you was Derek’s girlfriend not just Peter’s homeless beta like they all thought.

“what?” Deaton asked although he’d heard clearly what Scott had said. Before anyone could answer you started throwing up again. Melissa kicked everyone out of your room as she helped you.
After a few minutes Deaton also followed the group out. He looked puzzled walking over to peter “how long has she been like this?” he asked “about 2 or 3 weeks I think” peter answered Deaton hummed “and is she eating normally? How is she sleeping?” peter rolled his eyes with the vets questions “as far as I know and I’m not her keeper by the way no she’s not sleeping barely 3 hours a night, only sleeping when she’s too exhausted to stay awake. But yes she’s eating, okay she my be vomiting it back up a few hours later”
Deaton continued to asked questions about when you getting sick, what was you doing before you was sick until he had all the answers he needed. he asked Scott to go the vet clinic with him while “so what wrong with her?” Peter asked “I’m not sure I have 2 thoughts but I think getting Derek back can be good idea” leaving Peter annoyed and confused. He walked in to find y/n asleep Melissa looked at him whispering “I’ve given her something like doctor Deaton told me you can stay as long as you don’t wake her” peter nodded texting Derek after his phone rang out

Y/n is in hospital and really sick, she’s also pregnant, or did you already know is that why you ran off call me Derek when you get this I don’t like being kept in the dark - Peter

Peter put his phone on the bed watching his beta and only real friend, he never wanted or thought she’d be a friend when he first met her. She was only a pawn to him someone to do his bidding or a scapegoat if any of them got caught, but after a few short weeks the was something about her loyalty and personality, stubbornness and determination Peter liked and quickly y/n became family.
Lydia tapped on the door “do you want to go for a coffee” she asked him, Peter nodded getting up following the redhead. The pair chatted over coffee “Scott’s sent Malia, stiles and Liam to find Derek” she sweetly said Peter laughed “I don’t have much faith in that plan or combination” Lydia could clearly see the worry in his facial expressions and body language asks did he want to go back to y/n room.

You woke to find an empty room, feeling sick but not as bad as you had been feeling the past few weeks. You felt a buzz on the bottom of your bed seeing Peter’s phone you pick it up, the was a message from Scott saying he was on his way back. Peter walked in delight to see you now up but froze when he saw the look of thunder on your face. “y/n what’s wrong?” He asked in a very weary tone, you didn’t answer but stood up finding you shoes putting them on without a speaking a word before walking to the door. Peter was about to stop you holding out his arm opening his mouth to speak, “don’t you dare” you say pushing his phone hard into his chest, before walking out the door.
Lydia looked at Peter with the same confused expression he wore, looking at his phone screen Peter saw what you had, the text to Derek “shit” he roared running out after you.

Peter finally court up with you in the parking lot, “y/n please let me explain” peter walked slowly towards you Lydia not far behind him. “explain what Peter, how you knew Derek had ran off and you didn’t tell me, I thought I could trust you after the crap I got from the pack about how bad and evil you was, I truly believed you was honest with me” you started to sob wiping a stray tear from you face.
Peter really didn’t know what to say to you he rubbed the back if his neck looking down, with his lack of explanation you took a deep breath composing yourself again heading to the car “oh how did you know I was pregnant?” you asked Peter your voice was mean and cold, he looked up “same way I think Derek knows I heard it’s heart beating since the day I moved back, when you gave me a hug before you threw up all over my shoes.” he answered with a small hint of a smile.

Doing the math in your head it had almost been 3 weeks and he hadn’t told you more annoyed then before you got in the car, Lydia went to call after you but Peter stopped her “ let her go you don’t approach a pissed off pregnant wolf unless you have a death wish” he warned. Once in the car you angrily reversed very close to peter, “follow me and I will kill you” you threatened your alpha before speeding out of the car park.
Peter stood dumbfounded trying to think of a way to apologise or fix his mess and keep you from making yourself more ill. Scott and stiles pulled up minutes after y/n had left “where is she?” they asked, Lydia had filled them both in on everything they had missed. “What did Deaton say” Lydia asked “he’s not sure but the is a type of virus it’s thinks it could be but he also thinks it’s a parting thing like when wolf mates are apart they can cause a physical illness to occur and with y/n being pregnant her hormones are making it worse we need to find Derek and y/n” Scott told them “so you think y/n is at the loft” stiles asked Peter, “she’s got nowhere else to go” peter said sad. “well one of us needs to go and make sure she’s okay” Lydia said, peter and Scott both looked at stiles,
“what me why?” He asked nervous “me and Scott are werewolf and both alphas y/n we see us as a threat, Lydia you will over analyse things piss y/n off and get the brunt of her anger. Stiles your the best option we have” peter told them thinking he’d never say those words. Scott went to find Liam and the others to see if the is any sign Derek yet Lydia ran after him saying she’ll help. They all said there goodbyes heading off in different directions.

Peter knew you better than anyone else, he also knew if he had returned to the loft he probably wouldn’t leave alive, so he sent stiles to keep an eye on you. Stiles entered the loft to find you crying into Derek’s pillow. He hugged you trying to calm you down Deaton words fresh in his mind “stiles no matter what happens keep y/n calm so the baby doesn’t get stressed”. Stiles got you a drink and with a sad smile finally asked the one question he didn’t want to ask but had nothing else to say, “you okay” you glared at him “sorry stupid question” he said putting his head down. You felt bad he only wanted to know how you was, it was the Hales you were angry at not stiles you thought “I could be better but thanks for being here” you said back making him smile.
“you and sour wolf eh” he said pointing at your stomach. The thought made you feel sick again and start to cry “why would he do this run off leaving me alone with his baby”. Stiles held you close “maybe he doesn’t know and Peter got it wrong” he told you trying to make you feel better. But you knew Derek if he hadn’t left you then he would of called by now.

Peter not risking going back to the loft had nowhere to stay until he felt enough time had pasted for y/n to calm down. He decided to take a walk through the woods, something about the smell of the trees or the damp ground helped clear his mind. After walking for almost an hour it started to rain heavily, looking round to see where he was his old family home was closer then his car, sprinting off he was there in minutes. Opening the unlocked door he went to the burnt house, a noise from another room court his attention. In the living room a small fire was lit in the fireplace, the was creek from a floorboard but Peter didn’t look in its direction.
“we’ve been looking all over for you as far as calling London and Paris to see if anyone had heard from you, yet here you are hiding in the back garden” peter joked as Derek came into view. Derek’s face was hardened and frustrated, “what are you doing here Peter” was all Derek said frozen on the spot a few steps away. “Well I’m kind of hiding from your pissed off crazy girlfriend before she kills me over you” he joked again looking at his nephew who didn’t look amused.
After a couple of seconds of silence Derek sat down with his head in his hands, “do you know?” Derek said not looking up. Peter let out a loud chuckle then very sarcastically said “everyone knows after y/n was to busy worrying about what had happened to you, she collapsed and ended up in the hospital where Melissa told her and the pack she’s pregnant” peter added more of an angry sass to the word pregnant still annoyed his nephew didn’t tell him, “how is she now, did she take it okay?”

Derek finally looked up waiting for his answer, “ she’s okay-ish she’s at the loft,  stunned at first, then she saw the text I sent you and flipped, she hates me, you and most likely half of the town right now” peter told him. Derek groaned not knowing how or if he could fix all this. “so come on why did you run” peter asked this time normally and calm almost caring. “I didn’t run I just needed to think” Derek said defensively “you ran, if your scared its okay” peter said placing his hand on Derek’s shoulders rocking him a little.
Derek felt sick knowing he’d hurt y/n “Im not scared the was something I needed to do check out” Derek answered . “what ever you say nephew whatever you say! but you need to go see her though, the vet thinks it’s because you’ve left she’s so ill” peter said rolling his eyes at the idea looking at Derek thinking he didn’t look to healthy himself. “come on let’s get out of here and back home” he said practically pushing Derek out the burnt out hale house.

They got back to Peter’s apartment after Derek asked to go there instead of his loft, “so should I call y/n” peter said smirking waving his phone. Derek snatched it from him “no not yet”. Peter smirked “so you did run from y/n! why?” He asked laughing, Derek rolled his eyes without answering thinking about the night as Peter correctly said ran from he’s loft.

Derek watched the end of the movie y/n had fallen asleep half way through he picked her up, carrying her to bed. He laid next to her, as she snuggled into him. Derek woke up to get a drink downstairs he froze hearing y/n heartbeat his own and then a 3rd. He started looking round the loft quietly calling out for Peter in case he’d come back with saying. When Derek found nothing he went back to his room watching his girlfriend sleep, when heard the other heartbeat again, this time it was loader and coming from y/n. That’s when it hit Derek she was pregnant, he paced round in cycles thinking and worrying but the beating was making it hard to focus. Getting dressed Derek went for a run to clear his head and think. 


The ringing of Peter’s mobile broke Derek from his memory. He looked at the caller ID “stiles, why is stiles calling you?” he asked his uncle. Peter grabbed the phone back answering it without a word to Derek. Peter listened to stiles and his face dropped “what’s going on” Derek mouthed “okay we’ll be there in 5 minutes” peter said before ending the call. “vets now” was all he said grabbing Derek by his jacket pulling him out the door. They both drove in silence and worried.

At the vets stiles pasted up and down anxious, as he waited. Deaton had instructed stiles on how to sedate you after nervously succeeding he watched as you slept. Peter and Derek ran into the lobby of the vets almost knocking stiles over. Stiles was stunned to see Derek stood there he was about to ask where he’d been but stopped when he saw the look on the sourwolfs face. He looked broken as he watched the love of his life sleeping in the metal table. “What happened?” Peter asked, stiles looked at him now feeling more anxious “well we was chilling in the loft when she said she was going to be sick, only it wasn’t sick it was like blood” stiles said glancing over at Derek who was still looking though the small door window like he hadn’t heard a word wishing he’d never left for a run.
Peter coughed or him to continue “so after she stopped she said she had bed pains and was vomiting more blood I panicked and brought her here” Peter nodded grabbing the human boy lightly on the shoulder smiling. “you did good stiles thank you” Derek finally spoke. Peter nodded at the door for stiles to go “I’ll go out and call Scott back” he said leaving the two wolfs alone.
Peter stood next to him thinking of what to say. Inside the room you woke up but heard Peter, stiles and then Derek talk. Part of you wanted to jump up and scream at Derek for going, but something made you lay still. The pain in your body was bad scrunching your eyes and fists you tried to stay as still as you could. “I’m cursed” you heard Derek say, “what are you talking about” Peter answered. “you asked me why I ran” he said looking at his uncle. “Well your right I got scared, what happened was I heard the baby, I’m guessing like you did, when I went for a run I started thinking about family, everyone I’ve ever loved has died your in danger” “or is evil” Peter joked trying to lighten the mood.
Derek didn’t find the joke funny “I’m serious Peter your the only family I have left, and every time I think I’m happy something happens and disasters strikes” Derek was trying hard not to let the tears he had building up fall. “I’m better off staying far away. what if something happens to y/n or the baby I’d never forgive myself” his voice was trembling now. No matter how mad you had been, after hearing Derek almost crying worrying about the type of father he would be “really looks like staying away is helping” Peter joked. Hearing Derek makes you smile and remember the reasons why you fell in love with him. 


Nether peter or Derek herd you get off the table weakly you walked to the door “then you should stay and make nothing dose then happen to us” you smiled at him holding your stomach. Derek took one look at you, the tears rolled down his face as he hugged you tight. “ouch easy pregnant girl in pain here” you joked Peter smirking at you both before he went to see where stiles was.
When Derek let go, you smacked his arm as hard as you could “don’t you ever, ever leave me like that again, I don’t care of your having doubts you could have told me” you snap at him. Derek nodded with a sulking look “I’m sorry” he said low “you better be and you’ve still got some making up to do” you smile. He kissed you promising he will. Scott and the vet finally came back Peter moaning about how long they had been. When they walked in they looked at you “you look better” Scott said almost surprised. You stopped to think you had felt better “yeah the colour is really back in your cheeks now” stiles said.
Deaton walked to his table taking a plant out of his bag mixing it up with some other foul smelling liquid. “I know you look better but drink this just in case” he asked as he handed you a Becker with mixture he’d just made. It tasted worse then it smelt “what is that” Derek asked watching you drink in disgust. “it’s a an antibiotic mix safe for both mother and the baby but I really do believe the problem was you being missing” he said looking you over like he had in the hospital glancing up at Derek giving him a stern look. “well you don’t have to worry about that again I’m not going anywhere from now on” Derek said putting his hand on your stomach for the first time, finally feeling happy he was about to be a dad, “I’ll never leave my family again” you smiled at him kissing him.
Soon after Deaton was happy you was well enough to go he have you some vitamins tell you to call back if you felt ill again. With that you, Derek and Peter returned to the loft planing on what names you call your baby.

Pluto works very unconsciously, beneath the core of the Self. Pluto’s placement in the natal chart indicates where one must transform and purge, to live in the darkness for a bit before the light drapes in again. You must drown yourself in fear before you can reach the purity Pluto rewards you. When reaching up to your highest self, you have to experience the death of your own self (metaphorically speaking), and dissolve entirely under the force of the universe, for the Soul to be born.

Esoterically, Pluto rules Pisces. Esoteric astrology shows us the souls purpose and path in this lifetime. By placing Pisces under Pluto’s rule, it shows the only way to reach the true birth of the Soul is to purge the Self and personality. Pisces rules the collective unconscious, universal awakening and connection to God. The key to Neptune and Pisces is sacrifice. Giving and expecting nothing in return. Giving for the sake of giving. Loving for the sake of loving. Not to benefit the self. Neptune is the divine self and consciousness, exalted in cancer. In order to reach the highest self, you must sacrifice yourself and experience the death of yourself, to regenerate your being. To give birth to your own Soul in its purest form. It’s claimed that Pluto is exalted in Pisces exoterically for this reason. 

To reach the highest self, you must work through each of the [outer] planet’s lessons; becoming familiar with each of them, until you can grow strong enough on your own (saturn), to become an individual (uranus), with enough sense of self and better judgement to sacrifice yourself (neptune), in order to experience total self regeneration and purging (pluto). 

Imagine you’re a young lady in colonial America, the daughter of a simple baker. You are tasked to deliver baked goods made especially for the fellow tradesmen of your town that your father knows. With each deliver, you get fucked by an apprentice or possibly the tradesman yourself. Nine months later, you give birth to five sons and have to play a game of Daddy roulette with all the men you encountered in that afternoon of deliveries.

if you’re cis one simple but supremely important thing you can do as a trans ally is unlink birth name and real name in your head

a birth name is just that–a name given to you at birth. teach yourself that a birth name is not something anyone is required to give out. teach yourself that someone is not lying to you or hiding something from you by not giving you their birth name. 

teach yourself that if you somehow learn someone’s birth name and it’s not the name they’ve told you they go by, that is not their real name and you should not start using it instead.

a person’s real name is the name they give you. it may or may not be their legal name, but it is their name. a person has a right to be called what they desire. a name is important–teach yourself that a name and a birth name aren’t always the same thing, and that should always be respected.

(and this does mean applying it to all avenues of your life. no more hunting around for someone’s ‘real name’–be they real or fictional, trans or cis–when you find out they don’t go by their birth name. no more calling a person–real or fictional, trans or cis–their birth name instead of their preferred name because you think their birth name is somehow more real. treat preferred names as real names in every avenue of your life.)

edit bc i was asked: yeah this is totally okay to reblog by anyone!

babyblainers  asked:

Any words of wisdom for asexual scorpios? I feel like my sign truly represents me (everyone who knows astrology a bit guesses it right away) but it's awkward that it's also so heavily associated with sexuality. Do asexual scorpios make sense?

the reproductive zone that scorpio rules correlates with the sexual organs but translates to something much deeper, and that is the highest form of creativity, this is not just the creation of a child but on a higher level the creation of a new self, dying and being reborn, giving birth to yourself over and over, the orgasm of life is death 

If only you allowed yourself to pause for a moment, and attuned to the tender cries of the beloved within, to caress you feather softly in the places you so long to be touched.

If only you paused for a moment to feel the pulsating desire in your veins to be made love to by breath itself.

If only you paused for just a moment to notice the undying promise for a felt sense of ever greater levels of sacred beloved communion within each and every cell of your body.

Leaving you surrendered in awe to the holy worlds opening within you in the wake of legendary heart quakes, dissolving all residual fear.

If only you paused for a moment, beloved, to merely reflect upon the magnificence of your existence.

And how immaculate your luminous glory is when you listen to the sacred sound of your soul song, playing in harmony with all of creation.

If only you paused for a moment to notice how deeply and completely Love loves to love and adore you.

If only you paused for a moment to notice the felt sense of your organs humming in devotion to your highest destiny.

If only you paused for a moment to give birth to the thought that perhaps it’s not only safe to meet yourself inside the sanctuary of your own heart, but it’s what offers the sacred invitation for complete fulfillment to pulse ceremoniously through your blood.

Ever held in the embrace of pure innocence.

If only you paused for a moment to become aware of the suppressed passion for your innermost dreams and divinely joyful inspiration bubbling up, like fierce lava upon the shore of your heart’s divine lust for aliveness.

If only you paused for a moment to live in the primal volcanic force wanting to create earth shattering ripples to move you into this moments greatest alignment.

Entering the sacred grounds of your soul’s blooming in human form. If only you paused for a moment and listened, truly listened, to the poetry of your body’s natural rhythm and intuitive flow.

If only you paused long enough to feel this subtle, sublime force that dwells inside, move you to the beat of your own primordial drum. If only you paused for a moment beloved, to notice how the deserted somatic landscape of your beauty.

If only you paused for a moment beloved, to notice how the deserted somatic landscape of your body temple is nourished into a sensational flowering garden in the light of your wanted presence.

And oh, if only you paused for a moment, to feel that the divine perfection within you is making music with everything around you, forever confirming your invaluable part and place in the divine orchestra of this ever unfolding human existence.
—  Angelica Jill Grace
Lunchtime Drabble: Searching the Ship, Part 8

Lunchtime Drabble: Searching the Ship, Part 8
Word Count: 810
Warnings: Fluff mostly, I’m pretty much just having fun with this story now… Just go with me on this, it’ll be fun!  (Parenthesis are Jim’s thoughts.) [Brackets are Bones’ thoughts.]


Originally posted by commandtrek

2 months later….

Jim gave up forcing himself to walk and hit Enterprise’s corridors at a full run. Bones had comm’d him asking where Y/N and the baby were because they had missed a checkup, and of course, she turned her communicator off. After checking their quarters, he began to run to her favorite observation room.

(You would think that having an infant to carry around would have slowed her down, but I swear she’s faster than ever.)

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You’re The Boss

Request:  “Could you do an imagine where Simon finds his wife, the love of his life in the line up and she is now part of Rick’s group cause Simon left her for dead and now he regrets it and tries to get her back?” It got angsty real quick!

Warnings: Violence, blood, swearing, mentions of death

Tags: @simons-thirst-squad

“Alright, let’s get you all on your knees and we can get started.” Simon said as the group in front of him shook. The Saviors getting them on their knees. He smiled with his arms wide.

“Let’s meet the man!” He smiled and banged on the door to the RV. Negan came out, Lucille on his shoulder. Simon scanned the group. It was dark, hard to see their faces, he instructed some Saviors to light them up. They brought light onto the scared, crying faces. Simon looked across them a smile on his face as Negan gave his speech. But his smile fell when he saw a familiar face. A ghost. She couldn’t be there, it wasn’t possible. He stared at her, mouth hung open.

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Halo on Fire

Originally posted by castielismyfavouriteangel

MASTERLIST

Summary: The boys had kept you safe for long enough, but anything with an essence for the unusual eventually breaks loose, but this time the break is permanent. A blood spell gone awry awakens dormant powers, as you struggle to come to terms with the flood gates bursting you find yourself attached to a certain demon who oozes charisma and sass…

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Crowley. Castiel, Multi-Chapter fic

Pairing: Reader!Nephilim x Crowley

Warnings: Language

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2

Gif source:  Jorah

Imagine giving birth to Jorah’s child.

——— Request for anon ———

“You should calm yourself, my friend,” Tyrion sighs, taking another drink of his wine as he watches Jorah pace a hole into the stone floor. “After all, your lady has the Mother of Dragons by her side. I’m sure nothing can go wrong.”

Jorah glares at Tyrion for a moment, before Grey Worm nods gruffly, “Missandei, too.”

Tyrion nods in agreement, “Ah, yes, as well as what I am positive are the best midwives in all Meereen.”

Rubbing his temple, Jorah groans, “Will you please be quiet.”

So what do you do when you build yourself - only to realise you built yourself with the wrong things?

You rip it up and start again. That is the work of your teenage years - to build up and tear down and build up again, over and over, endlessly, like speeded-up film of cities during boom times, and wars. To be fearless, and endless, in you reinventions - to keep twisting on nineteen, going bust and dealing in again, and again. Invent, invent, invent.

They do not tell you this when you are fourteen, because the people who would tell you - your parents - are the very ones who built the thing you are so dissatisfied with. They made you how they want you. They made you how they need you. They built you with all they know, and love - and so they can’t see what you’re not: all the gaps you feel leave you vulnerable. All the new possibilities only imagined by your generation, and non-existent to theirs. They have done their best, with the technology they had to hand, at the time - but now it’s up to you, small, brave future, to do your best, with what you have. As Rabindranath Tagore advised parents, ‘Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.’

And so you go out into your world, and try and find the things that will be useful to you. Your weapons. Your tools. Your charms. You find a record, or a poem, or a picture of a girl that you pin to the wall, and go 'Her. I’ll try and be her. I’ll try and be her - but here.’ You observe the way others walk, and talk, and you steal little bits of them, you collage yourself out of whatever you can get your hands on. You are like the robot Johnny 5 in Short Circuit, crying, 'More input! More input for Johnny 5!’ as you rifle through books, and watch films, and sit in front of the television, trying to guess which of these things you are watching - Alexis Carrington Colby walking down a marble staircase; Anne of Green Gables holding her shoddy suitcase; Cathy wailing on the moors; Courtney Love wailing in her petticoat; Julie Burchill gunning people down; Grace Jones singing 'Slave To The Rhythm’ - that you will need, when you get out there. What will be useful? What will be, eventually, you?

And you will be quite on your own when you do this. There is no academy where you can learn to be yourself; there is no line manager, slowly urging you towards the correct answer. You are midwife to yourself, and will give birth to yourself, over and over, in dark rooms, alone.

And some versions of you will end in dismal failure - many prototypes won’t even get out of the front door, as you suddenly realise that, no, you can’t style-out an all-in-one gold bodysuit and a massive attitude-problem in Wolverhampton. Others will achieve temporary success - hitting new land-speed records, and amazing all around you, and then suddenly, unexpectedly exploding, like the Bluebird on Coniston Water.

But one day, you’ll find a version of you that will get you kissed, or befriended, or inspired, and you will make your notes accordingly; staying up all night to hone, and improvise upon a tiny snatch of melody that worked.

Until - slowly, slowly - you make a viable version of you, one you can hum, every day. You’ll find the tiny, right piece of grit you can pearl around, until nature kicks in, and your shell will just quietly fill with magic, even while you’re busy doing other things. What your nurture began, nature will take over, and start completing, until you stop having to think about who you’ll be entirely - as you’re too busy doing, now. And ten years will pass, without you even noticing.

And later, over a glass of wine - because you drink wine, now, because you are grown - you will marvel over what you did. Marvel that, at the time, you kept so many secrets. Tried to keep the secret of yourself. Tried to metamorphose in the dark. The loud, drunken, fucking, eyeliner-smeared, laughing, cutting, panicking, unbearably present secret of yourself. When really, you were about as secret as the moon. And as luminous, under all those clothes.

— 

This is the entire twenty-fourth chapter from Caitlin Moran’s ‘How to Build a Girl.’ Because the whole thing read like some sort of commencement speech I wish I had heard as a teenager, and I felt it needed to be shared.

Why, yes, it did take me a while to type out the whole thing.