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thefallofruins · 3 months

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First time dad! Sukuna

“This is…mine?”

He looks down at the little wrapped bundle in his arms, a look of confusion etched onto his face. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at the little thing, who looks back at him with equal interest.

Except her eyes are filled with innocence. And they share a resemblance with his. Such a beautiful contrast, you think.

“She is.” You chuckle softly, correcting him, still incredibly tired from the pains of birthing his child. But the sight of the father holding his daughter for this first time was so amusing that you couldn’t help it. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

Sukuna doesn’t respond immediately, still fixated on the small…tiny little thing he’s holding. He’s so uncharacteristically gentle with it…like one mistake and she’ll shatter. He raises a finger to her plump cheek, caressing her soft skin.

“Like you,” he finally responds, as the little girl’s tiny fingers immediately latch onto his, wrapping around them. A soft smile forms on his face as he looks at her, then at you. The wonderful woman who graced his cursed existence with such blessings.

He wants to say something, but a strange…slimy feeling of wetness on his finger prevents him from doing so. He looks at the little one in his arms, slurping on his fingers.

“Oh, so you’re a brat too?” He pulls his finger away, and hell breaks loose. He is even more confused now.

“She’s hungry, Kuna,” you pout, extending your arms from the bed, “Bring her here.”

He shuffles closer to you, his hand working surprisingly gently as he hands the little girl to you, and she immediately latches onto your breast as you loosen the robe to feed her.

“Has my appetite.” He grumbles, causing you to chuckle again. He stays for a while, internally swearing at the sight of you and your little girl— that if anything ever even tries to touch either of you, he will rip the world to shreds, and god knows what ends he’ll get to to keep you safe.

“Brat,” He mumbles, one of his hands resting on your head, making you look up to him as he ruffles your hair slightly. “Thank you.”

#dad! sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #Sukuna fluff #ruins posts #tw pregnancy #tw breastfeeding #tw childbirth

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astaray · 1 month

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contents. satoru gojo and the birth of your child, the future to be exact.

other. mentions of childbirth/pregrancy. mentions of being a mother. gojo being a lovestruck idiot (as he should be!)

Satoru Gojo could feel the sweat dripping down his temples.

He was nervous.

Very nervous actually.

His long fingers flexed with anxiety, his messy white hair sticking up like a cactus, his vivid blue eyes dull, devoid of any emotion.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Today was the day.

Where you would give birth to the newest gojo of the family.

Give birth to his child.

'Should i have brought something?!'

'like.... should i got chocolates? no.. i already got chocolates..'

Another awkward few minutes passed, with doctors rushing in and out of the room, and occasional yells of 'push! push!' ringing out, before an abrupt silence pierced through the air. Dead, cold silence haunted the halls.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"Sir?"

Leaping up and almost taking the chair with him, he turned to the doctor, anxiety flitting across his vivid eyes, fear piercing his barriers and hitting through his heart.

"Can i go in?!"

"Yes you can but before th-"

After the one word left the doctor's mouth, he pushed him aside and ran to the operation room, muttering hurried apologies to the people he shoved out of his way.

" 'Toru...."

Falling to his knees, right beside your bed, he completely disregarded the chair, instead, he held onto your arm, eyes locked on the baby you had in your arms.

Their baby they held in your arms.

"C-Can i hold...."

You chuckled and beckoned Gojo to come down to your level, snorting as he awkwardly fumbled with the now-wailing baby.

"Your eyes. They have your eyes."

You smile, watching as your partner, your lover stiffly rocked the child, awe filling his eyes as their cries faded, now turning into a big yawn.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest held the future in his arms.

#three cheers for my first drabble!#huzzah!#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #cw childbirth #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x oc #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n

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one-time-i-dreamt · 4 months

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I had a daughter and I raised her until she was 6 and then I woke up.

It was so realistic too. I’m a trans man and I even experienced childbirth, that shit fucking hurt like cramps but on steroids and crack.

Her name was Judith, her favourite colour was purple and she loved dinosaurs and I miss her so much and she doesn’t even exist.

There was absolutely no need for it to be so realistic and detailed I’m devastated. 😭

#dream #daughter #family #trans #childbirth #pregnancy #birth #dinosaur #realistic dream

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pamgkrthwrites · 8 months

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Just imagining about how Bakugou loves seeing his pretty little pregnant wife fuss about him. He loves when you come to visit him in the office, he loves it when you bring him some your food and drink for him to have for lunch, he loves seeing you waddle over to him.

He loves it even more when you bring your first child with him. He loves seeing your two’s 2 year old daughter with your hair texture but his hair colour and his eye shape but your eye colour just look up at him. He feels as if he is falling in love all over again.

And if he sees anyone - and I mean anyone - even look at you funny, he will find a way to get rid of them.

Don’t even get me started on how he reacts hearing your in labour. He’s doing paper work, hears the phone ring and just picks up. “What?” Then he hears your whimpering crying cause your water broke and your in pain and your due date isn’t for another 3 weeks.

He rushes out of his office and everyone just moves out of his way. He is a panting mess when he finally gets to you in the hospital, holding your hand tightly as you give birth to your baby boy.

Let’s just say he is not happy his boy came early. It almost felt as if because your body kept your daughter two two weeks longer, your body decided to even the scales and make you give birth to your son early.

Bakugou’s blood pressure is so high all because this baby came early.

His son proves to be a trouble maker, having his hair texture but your hair colour and having Bakugou’s eyes. This little shit learnt how to walk early and his word was fuck.

Turns out his little angel of a daughter was trying to him to say shit.

He is utterly outraged.

But not surpised.

He does have to comfort you from though, considering your a crying mess that your baby didn’t say mama first.

Honestly though he can’t wait to put a third one in ya. He misses seeing you waddle.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #Bakugou x reader #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Bakugo x reader #Bakugo Katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugo x reader #reader is female #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth

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cuties-in-codices · 4 months

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nero giving birth to a toad

illustration from a copy of the "weltchronik" ("chronicle of the world") by rudolf von ems, bavaria, c. 1400-1410

source: Getty Museum Collection, Ms. 33 (88.MP.70), fol. 226r

#15th century #rudolf von ems #weltchronik #frogs #toads #nero #childbirth #medieval art

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natjennie · 2 months

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okay, bear with me this requires a lot of context. imagine that you wake up on a space ship with an alien species capable of telepathic communication with you. they are also capable of instilling you with the knowledge that everything they say is completely true, there is not a hint of uncertainty in your mind. they have weapons capable of obliterating earth pointed at the planet, and are forcing you to do one of two things in order to not fire. within the fiction of the scenario you are not being given the choice, but you the real you is picking which one of these things you'd rather have happen.

you must eat an 8 ounce serving of human baby meat, by default prepared like a steak (different preparations can be requested). you do not have to keep the meat down once you're done, but you have to get all of it in your body at one point. they do not provide any information about where the baby came from or how it died. if you complete this, they will deposit you back on earth and you will be free from legal repercussions of cannibalism, and it is generally agreed that you are also free from moral blame as it was against your will.

you will be surgically impregnated with a human embryo and must carry it to term and give birth. the embryo does not contain your dna, but otherwise you don't know anything about its origins. the aliens have advanced medical technology that gives you sufficient anatomy to carry and birth the baby, and keeps you healthy throughout, with no risk of long term complications or death. you have the choice to keep or give away the baby once you have given birth, and will be deposited back on earth.

if you refuse to comply in either situation, they destroy the earth and you are forced to live the rest of your life aboard the space ship as a prisoner, until you die of natural causes.

so,

#tw: child death #tw: childbirth #childbirth #child death #tw: cannibalism #cannibalism #tw: pregnancy #pregnancy #aliens #how else do i need to tag this #let me know #i only realized right as i finished typing that this could be triggering im sorry #please tell me if i need to tag anything else

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joelsgreys · 4 months

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softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born.

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate.

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #tw premature birth

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corvidfeathers · 10 months

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people in westeros are always like. your fortifications and ramparts are no match for human rights violations gerald and his dirty boys. and every time it is true

#I am watching house of the dragon but this applies to asoiaf as well #rest assured if a grimy and suspicious man is entrusted with a task absolutely nothing will get in his way #biggest cause of character death is childbirth and bargain bin assassins #hotd #asoiaf

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whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx · 3 months

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Of all the theories as to how Carmilla and her daughters found eachother in Hell (adoption, reuniting after they died, one or all three being Hellborn, ect;), I think my personal favorite is the one where Carmilla was either pregnant when she died or later gave birth to a child she miscarried when she was alive.

But whether or not that’s true, one of my favorite crack theories/headcanons about Carmilla being pregnant in Hell is how absolutely weird the other Overlords would be about it- because let’s be real, they would absolutely be weird about it. Maybe supportive and weird, but weird.

Zestial, nervously following Carmilla around: My darling. My own heart. I beg of thou, please, for just a moment.

Carmilla, still stubbornly walking around in her ridiculously sharp shoes: I’M FINE.

Zestial, who’s been trying to get her to sit down or at least change her shoes for over an hour: 0,_0

Rosie, crouched at her side with a glass of something red and questionable: I’m telling you, honey, just try this. It’ll cure that morning sickness in a jiffy.

Carmilla, curled up on her bathroom floor: …it disturbs me that I’m nauseous enough to actually be considering this.

Zestial comes to her rescue and shoos Rosie out to go make her some (GINGER) tea before Carmilla can do something she’ll regret.

Alastor, gazing suspiciously: Why on earth is your abdomen moving like that? Is something trying to break out?

Carmilla, too exhausted to deal with this: That movement is my baby kicking, Alastor.

Alastor: Pardon? You mean to tell me that one can see that on the outside? Eugh.

Carmilla, glaring at him: You are so lucky you’re not worth getting up for.

- Rosie insists on throwing her a baby shower. Vox and Alastor get kicked out for fighting and are forced to put together the IKEA furniture for the nursery as punishment.

- I seriously doubt this lot can build and work an ultrasound machine, so something like this is likely.

Carmilla, slowly coming to after giving birth: Mmmh…?

Rosie, happily bouncing one baby in her arms: Oh good, she’s up! Congratulations, sweetie. You have two beautiful daughters 🥰

Carmilla: ….

Zestial, who’s gently cradling the other: Carmilla…? Is something the matter?

Carmilla: …there’s really two of them. I thought I was hallucinating.

BONUS:

Fun fact- some scientists say cats have sensitive enough hearing that they can hear babies’ heartbeats within their mother’s bodies.

Husk, staring at Carmilla:

Carmilla, who’s still processing that she’s pregnant and hasn’t begun telling anyone else: …is something wrong?

Husk, ears bristling slightly: h o w m a n y h e a r t s d o y o u h a v e ?

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road-kill-eater · 3 days

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#blood #childbirth

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jellinuy · 8 days

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౨ৎ incl. husband! higuruma + lots of fluff!!

he thinks for a second that he may be dreaming.

it’s possible. he could still be at work, hunched over asleep at his desk, the ache in his back and his neck keeping him on the border betweeen actual rest and a quick but uncomfortable nap. but he pinches himself and warrants a faint sting, so he’s definitely awake.

now confirmed that this is real, nerves set in quick, spreading like wildfire throughout his body and rendering him near-immobile and — for the first time since he can remember — scared. he's genuinely scared. hiromi approaches his wife’s hospital bed like he's a bull and you’re made of porcelain, completely disregarding his mussed tie and the gentle beading of sweat on his forehead.

he looks down at you with the most loving eyes, stubborn traces of fear and uncertainty lingering in them, swirled into his dark pupils like creamer in black coffee. he’s so in love, but so afraid.

against his wife’s chest is their crying daughter. his baby girl.

“look who it is!” you mutter happily, tired lines seeping into the smile hiromi so adores as you swirl the small tufts of hair on top of your baby’s head between gentle fingers. “look, d/n, it’s daddy.” you gesture him closer to the bed, a faint giggle on your lips. “she’s not gonna bite you.”

“are you sure i can hold her?” he doesn't know what to do with something so tiny. something so loud. he rushed here with the sole intention of seeing his wife. he watched you give birth, and he told himself he was ready, but now that it’s happened, he’s terrified. when you nod with that familiar warmth in your face, he leans down to kiss your forehead, then your cheek. then he worries, “what if i drop her on accident?”

you smile at his unease, trying to hand him the baby. “just make sure her head is supported; you won’t drop her.”

after a second, he reaches his arms out for the newborn, and the minute they make contact, he swears all the stress leaves his body. he feels connected to her forever from this point on, an invisible tether rooted deep in their hearts and wrapping around one another. he holds the tiny head of his daughter in his palm — “she’s so small,” you hear him mumble and watch his eyebrows elevate when he discovers that her entire head fits in his hand — and cradles the rest of her in the crook of his elbow, tucking his other arm under her for good measure. you smile despite the fatigue, your heart melting into goo at the sight of your little family, complete. there’s a sticky sweetness about it, a content air to watching them: like nurturing a flower garden and watching it bloom.

“heyyy… hey, d/n,” he mumbles, trying to rock the fussing baby in his arms, the sound of her crying and the sight of her scrunched-up face already breaking his heart. “it’s daddy.” god, did that taste so sweet on his tongue. “daddy’s here… shh. don’t cry, princess, ‘m here.”

higuruma’s pulse thrums in his ears, watching the baby’s gum-mouthed cries turn to whimpers, then soft little coos as big black eyes meet the matching set of his own, and immediately he makes it his duty to thumb her tears away.

he loves her.

“hi, my baby,” your husband whispers, nuzzling into her soft, supple cheeks with his large nose to kiss her, his heart swelling so big he was afraid it would pop out of him when her hands patted at his face, exploring the soft skin of his jaw and the apples of his own cheeks while her legs kicked (giving him a slight heart attack, thinking she’d wriggle out of his arms and onto the floor somehow) curiously. you notice (and smile) when his eyes so obviously gloss over with tears at the surrealism of the moment — that this was his daughter. this was the living, breathing, essence of him and his wife’s love.

the spring in which he’d married you was the same spring that he began to see the little things for what they were. higuruma had always had a sort of fast pace about him.

but now he hopes time will slow down, stretch like the thick pour of molasses. he wants to milk this life for all it's worth.

#hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #꒰🪼꒱ jelly writes.#u guys think hiromi would be squeamish watching childbirth…#idk i feel like he’d get a little lightheaded lmao #divider by pommecita #GIRLDAD HIGURUMA SAVE MEEEE #omg real writing for once!!#you would think i got baby fever writing this but i hate kids actually

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reasonsforhope · 7 months

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"Glamour UK launched its digital June Pride cover this week featuring a pregnant transgender man.

The cover features transgender activist and author Logan Brown standing topless with a suit painted over his chest and his pregnant belly on full display.

“I am a transgender pregnant man and I do exist, so no matter what anybody says, I literally am living proof,” Brown told the magazine.

Glamour UK, an online women’s magazine published by Condé Nast, launched its Pride cover issue on Thursday, coinciding with the start of LGBTQ Pride month. The magazine has previously showcased prominent figures in the LGBTQ community, such as Grammy-award winning artist Kim Petras and "Queer Eye" cast member Antoni Porowski.

This year’s issue “celebrates the allyship between women (cisgender or not) and transgender people through our shared experiences — in particular pregnancy, healthcare and childbirth,” the magazine explained.

The cover interview, which was conducted two weeks before Brown, 27, gave birth to his daughter, Nova, recounts the cover star’s experience with an unexpected pregnancy and navigating the medical system as a trans man...

Despite the backlash, the cover star expressed his desire to educate those who may hold misconceptions about transgender individuals.

Brown shared with Glamour that he is working on a children’s book and an autobiography that highlights his pregnancy, and hopes it will serve as a resource for other transgender people.

He added that he would also like the book to reach people who aren’t transgender but “are curious and want to know about the situation,” referring to trans pregnancy."

-via ABC News, June 2, 2023

Especially heartening to see this coming out of the UK, given the dramatic rise in transphobia and TERFism there the past few years.

Right now, it can be a really stressful and heartbreaking time to be trans. Widespread change takes time that it often feels like we don't have. But we're here, and we will always be here, and despite what it may feel like, we have made unbelievable amounts of progress in the last 20 years alone.

I promise you this: the transphobes are going to lose.

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