Today I'm thinking about Yuu Bachira again.....Thinking about helping her set up her first art exhibit. I'm thinking about beating up her ex husband for her and the way her eyes are probably a nice yellow just like Meguru. I'm thinking about cheering for him with her while watching Blue Lock TV.....you want to be Meguru Bachiras S/O or friend, I want to be his step-parent. We aren't the same.
your "going to a city where nobody knows me while wearing a big fake pregnant belly, too big to be mistaken as a man's beer belly" idea is on my mind again.
imagine happily riding and waddling around the city all day, fake tits bouncing on top of your huge belly, enjoying all the city has to offer. at least what you can waddle far enough to see, as heavy as you are, enjoying being so unmistakably pregnant. then, as youre on the train to your home (on a seat a stranger offered you, since youre obviously less able to stand considering how far along you appear to be) you could swear you feel a fluttering inside your stomach. but that's impossible, right? and your trousers feel tight around your hips, but maybe they just shrank in the wash and you accidentally ate for four at lunch. your chest feels heavier than usual, but maybe you're just tired.
you finally make it home, heavy and exhausted, but are enjoying yourself too much to want to take off your fake belly. just peel off your trousers and order takeawat, waddling to the door and feeling so /huge/ as you struggle to bring the plate inside. stuff yourself on it to a tv show you watch on your phone, maybe take a picture of your huge, baby-daddy body under your shirt. end up falling asleep like that, pinned down.
wake up slowly in the morning to a hard kick from inside your belly, and an unmistakable wetness on your chest. another kick and your hand moves to soothe your belly. but...your eyes blink open to unmistakable distortions on the surface of your bump, even through the fabric of your shirt. fuck, are you- you're actually pregnant! must be months along, almost full term! you slooooowly mamage to force yourself into a sitting position, pulling your shirt off to see your enormous, distended belly, belly button long since popped, tits huge and milky atop it, and if you twist your neck you can see your enormous hips on either side.
all you can really do now is enjoy yourself and wait, to see whether your water breaks in a month or two - or whether you have a full nine months to get through like this, only getting bigger...
😳😳😳😳
the only thing id have to add is. you're right that in this scenario there'd be no way to know if i was gonna keep growing... but thered also be no way to know whether i was ever gonna give birth at all...
on my way to work, sitting on a tram, already made plans to talk with my boss in office,,, and I'm just realising I might be a bit too sick for it to be appropriate to spread my germs in the office
Not to get on my ATJ Mistress Soap Box but it’s so disappointing that he’s not some fantastic artsy director’s muse. He always does wonderfully in period pieces and I’d love to see him in more.
Maybe the cost of my freedom from assignments until March is the fact I can't choose between doing a portrait of Papa Primo or Eddie Munson. Maybe the cost of getting my work submitted on time is that I am now indecisive with a fried brain. The fact I can't do polls on here is actually a travesty bc then I'd get everyone to choose for me 😭 perhaps I should make a friend decide for me and let the consequences be on my shoulders