you can call me Juno

“These don’t fit either,” Finn signed and handed the shop assistent the maternity pants he had just tried. “They feel too loose around my thighs, and too tight around my belly.” He absolutely hated this. Nothing fit and felt comfortable anymore. 

Finn had always been slender, sure, but not unusually so. But his belly had popped really fast, right at the ten weeks mark, and hadn’t stopped aggressively growing since, while the rest of him had stayed mostly the same. All the weight had gone straight to his middle, he looked like he could be seven months along, instead of his actual five. 

“You’re really showing, for someone only 22 weeks. Are you sure there’s only one baby?” The assistant asked, rather tactless, while she tried to find a pair of pants he hadn’t tried and dismissed yet.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s not twins! How rude.” Finn replied, hands resting protectively over his belly, which only made its big size even more noticeable. 

He had asked his doctor the same thing, but she had confirmed there was only one (pretty big, but healthy) baby inside of him, surrounded by plenty of fluid. Everyone just carried differently, she had assured him. 

Thanks, anon! I’ve picked one of your prompts for now:

Henry wrapped his arms around Finn’s shoulders as soon as he stumbled out of the exam room. He wasn’t sure he could stay upright for much longer, “Oh god, hurts so bad, please help,” he moaned.

“Jesus, Henry, how the hell did you make it through that like this?” Finn was shocked. He tried to rub Henry’s stomach, to take away some of the pressure, but it felt hard as a stone under his hand. 

“’s worse now, like this,” Henry explained, between labored breaths. “Standing. “The baby feels so low now.”

“Okay,” Finn tried not to panic. “Let’s get you to the hospital. My car is right outside. Come on.” He tried to lead Henry towards the door.

[There were a few prompts for #9, so I just picked the one that was sent first.]

At first he had thought they were just regular Braxton hicks, he was almost 40 weeks pregnant after all, and not used to sitting in the same position for long periods of time anymore. 

But the movie was great and Louis was used to feeling uncomfortable by now, so he just drank his soda as fast as he could, hoping the added hydration would make them stop, and tried to focus on what was happening on screen. 

They didn’t stop though. In fact the contractions only got worse and worse as time went on, but by then Louis was unable to leave. 

The problem was, that his seat was at the end of a row in the back, next to a wall, so for him to make it out, everyone in his row would have to get up and move to let him pass (he was way too big to squeeze past them at this point). He then would have to carefully waddle down the stairs on the side in the dark. And then cross the screen in the front, blocking everyone’s view, to get to the exit.

He couldn’t stand that much attention and embarrassment in his condition. Everyone would know. So he sat there, with clenched teeth, hands on his throbbing stomach, trying to not not make a sound, while the cramps washed over him. 

because I have the afternoon off:

Send me a character + a location + one of the sentences below as a prompt, and I’ll try to write a short paragraph. 

For example: Finn + on a train + 11  List of my OCs here, or try to sell me on someone new.

previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Will can’t believe this is happening, how can he have such bad luck? He would’ve just needed one more day. But he refuses to just give up, he can’t handle the scandal and public embarrassment. He can’t even think about what the headlines would say. 

No way, he thinks, I can still make it home. He only has like fifty minutes of waiting left, before his private plane takes off and it’s not even a two hours’ flight, more like one hour and forty minutes. So, all in all he only has to last a little more than two and a half hours and then he’ll be in the comfort of his own home, hopefully with his midwife and without a fucking scandal.

He can make it that long. Probably. Labor lasts for hours, right? But you’ve already been in pain for hours, a little voice in his head says. Even before you woke up, he checks his watch, it’s been at least sixteen hours.

It’s like his body feels his growing panic because the pain kicks up a notch, tight cramps washing all over his belly. “Ohhhhh, fuuuuuck,” he moans, trying desperately to keep quiet, and rubbing and pressing into the especially tender spots to at least take the edge off. “Please, stop. Ohhhhh! Please, please, please,” he begs. He tries to remove some of the tightness and tension by massaging the tight skin, starting at the bottom and working his way up, over the sides towards the top, but it only helps minimally. The steel band still feels tightly in place. He wishes he’d had more time with the midwife, he has no idea how to ease the pain. It finally grows weaker, and he tries to take a few deep breaths.

The pressure at the bottom is still there, steadily growing worse and worse with every contraction. It’s okay, he tells himself. This is horrible timing and more painful than expected but I can still do this. My water hasn’t even broken yet, sixteen hours isn’t that long for a first-time labor, right?

He’s not completely naive though, he knows getting on the next plane is a bit of a risk. He’ll have to at least check in with his midwife, get her opinion and maybe instructions to check his progress and some tips to deal with the pain, because he’s not sure how much longer he can keep himself together.

He needs some privacy, so grabs his bag and makes his way to the bathroom next to the bar. His walk has turned into a waddle, with the baby so low and pressing against his pelvis, but he tries to go as fast as he can, desperate to make it, before another contraction hits.

He locks the door after he makes it inside the spacious bathroom and drops the bag onto the bank that lines the wall across the sinks, next to the cubicle, before he goes to wash his face.

The water helps to calm his nerves a bit. He briefly wonders how it would feel to immerse himself completely, a bath or even a shower would probably do wonders to combat the pain, might even get some of his taunt muscles to relax, but he can’t.

He eventually sinks down next to his bag, relieved to be off his feet. At this point every little movement is exhausting, leaves him panting and sweating.

He pulls out his phone, and notices he has a bunch of missed texts and calls, most of them from Ana, but also a few from Nick. He checks Ana’s texts first:

> That’s a long time to be having false contractions. > Are you sure you’re not in labor? > How bad are the pains? And how regular? > Please answer me, Will! I’m actually worried now.  > Is someone with you? Are you timing the contractions? > Please tell me what’s going on, I want to help! > I’m gonna call Nick, if you don’t pick up your phone.

Shit, he really should’ve checked in sooner, hopefully her and Nick haven’t done anything stupid, like told someone what’s going on. He needs this to stay a secret. He quickly switches to Nick’s messages:

> Will, what’s going on? Are you okay? > Ana, just called me, told me she’s scared you’re in labor? > Answer your fucking phone!!!

Just as he’s done reading, his phone starts ringing. It’s Ana again. He takes a deep breath and answers, “Hello? Sorry, I’ve-”

“Will? Thank god, I’ve finally reached you! What’s going on? Are you still in pain?”

“I think I’m in labor,” he finally admits, burying his face in his hands. 

“Okay. Let’s stay calm, walk me through your symptoms.”

He tries to gather his thoughts. “Uhm, my belly feels a lot lower and there is a lot of pressure at the bottom, that doesn’t really go away. And these really intense cramps keep happening, feels like there is a steel band wrapped around my stomach. They’re definitely happening regularly and I think they’re getting stronger, so I need you to help me slow this down so I can get home, without anyone noticing… I’m not sure how much longer I can hide what’s going on.”

“That definitely sounds like labor,” Ana agrees. “I don’t think you should keep traveling. Might be time to find the nearest hospital, I’m sorry I’m not there, but they should be able to help you with the pain.”

“No, no, I can’t! Please, no one can know!” Will begs, nervously rubbing his belly. “It’s barely two hours, I can still make it home. Please, just tell me what to do!”

Ana sighs, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, someone at the hospital will leak it, and I really can’t handle that! I’m sure, I’m not that far gone yet…” At least he hopes, he has to convince her.

“Has your water broken yet?” Ana asks. “How far apart are the contractions?”

“No it hasn’t, and I don’t really know”, he admits. “Haven’t really been timing them.”

“Okay, then we’ll time the next two and go from there.” Ana suggests.

previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

They are almost in San Francisco and the plane flies low to the ground for several more minutes, as Will puffs through waves of pain rolling over his tummy and tries to ignore everything that’s going on around him: his phone beeping, his fellow travelers waking up and chatting.

The plane finally lands, and he unbuckles his seatbelt and throws on his jacket. He plans to say goodbye right away and exit the plane first, but just as he’s about to get up a contraction takes hold.

He sits on the edge of his seat in mass discomfort, unable to get up. He hums, bouncing his leg and running his fingers up and down the front of his belly as it heaves forward, throbbing and pulsing painfully. “Mhmm. Woooh.” He grunts, scrunching his face up tighter and rotating his hips, “Woooh. Ohhhhh. Mhmm.”

Almost everyone has gotten off already, and the bodyguard shoots him a questioning look. “You alright?”

Will doesn’t answer, pain in his belly far too intense, but he forces his face back to neutral and nods. His legs still shake slightly, and his tongue is bleeding from his teeth biting it so roughly through the pains rippling and tightening his tummy.

The pain slowly fades away and he stumbles to his feet. They make their way off the plane, down the steps and onto a bus that takes them to a waiting lounge. Will will stay there and wait for another plane, and the others will be on their way.

Walking is definitely not helping his pains though. His hips are killing him, and the horrible pressure is now constant, it takes everything in him to not just sink to the floor when the next pain gains traction, but he forces himself to grip the railing of the ramp leading up to the lounge and keep walking.

He tries to discreetly move his bag in front of his body because not being able to touch his stomach while it contracts is hell. It’s so unbelivable heavy and tight.

Thankfully, the people from management are already taking off when he finally makes it inside, waving to him as they go. The bodyguard lingers, clearly suspicious that something is going on. “You’ sure you’re okay?”

“’m fine,” Will says. Eager to get rid of the guy before the next pain starts. “Just not feeling my best, bit tired.”  

“Is there someone picking you up in L.A.?”

“Someone will be handing over my car at the airport, and it’s only a short drive. Don’t worry.” He’s actually not sure he should be behind a wheel in his condition, but he can’t think about that now. One problem at a time. 

The bodyguard still doesn’t look too convinced, but finally shakes his hand and heads towards the door.

Will drops his bag and lets out a breath of relieve at finally being rid of everyone. He can already feel another pain coming on. Thankfully the lounge is empty apart from one stewardess behind the bar who is stocking the shelves, so he doesn’t have to mask his facial expression once he has turned his back toward her.

He grits his teeth and presses one hand to the underside of his belly where the pressure is the worst while the other rubs circles into its side, pressing into the tight skin beneath his hoodie, trying to relive some of the tension.

previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

They are almost in San Francisco and the plane flies low to the ground for several more minutes, as Will puffs through waves of pain rolling over his tummy and tries to ignore everything that’s going on around him: his phone beeping, his fellow travelers waking up and chatting.

The plane finally lands, and he unbuckles his seatbelt and throws on his jacket. He plans to say goodbye right away and exit the plane first, but just as he’s about to get up a contraction takes hold.

He sits on the edge of his seat in mass discomfort, unable to get up. He hums, bouncing his leg and running his fingers up and down the front of his belly as it heaves forward, throbbing and pulsing painfully. “Mhmm. Woooh.” He grunts, scrunching his face up tighter and rotating his hips, “Woooh. Ohhhhh. Mhmm.”

Almost everyone has gotten off already, and the bodyguard shoots him a questioning look. “You alright?”

Will doesn’t answer, pain in his belly far too intense, but he forces his face back to neutral and nods. His legs still shake slightly, and his tongue is bleeding from his teeth biting it so roughly through the pains rippling and tightening his tummy.

The pain slowly fades away and he stumbles to his feet. They make their way off the plane, down the steps and onto a bus that takes them to a waiting lounge. Will will stay there and wait for another plane, and the others will be on their way.

Walking is definitely not helping his pains though. His hips are killing him, and the horrible pressure is now constant, it takes everything in him to not just sink to the floor when the next pain gains traction, but he forces himself to grip the railing of the ramp leading up to the lounge and keep walking.

He tries to discreetly move his bag in front of his body because not being able to touch his stomach while it contracts is hell. It’s so unbelivable heavy and tight.

Thankfully, the people from management are already taking off when he finally makes it inside, waving to him as they go. The bodyguard lingers, clearly suspicious that something is going on. “You’ sure you’re okay?”

“’m fine,” Will says. Eager to get rid of the guy before the next pain starts. “Just not feeling my best, bit tired.”  

“Is there someone picking you up in L.A.?”

“Someone will be handing over my car at the airport, and it’s only a short drive. Don’t worry.” He’s actually not sure he should be behind a wheel in his condition, but he can’t think about that now. One problem at a time. 

The bodyguard still doesn’t look too convinced, but finally shakes his hand and heads towards the door.

Will drops his bag and lets out a breath of relieve at finally being rid of everyone. He can already feel another pain coming on. Thankfully the lounge is empty apart from one stewardess behind the bar who is stocking the shelves, so he doesn’t have to mask his facial expression once he has turned his back toward her.

He grits his teeth and presses one hand to the underside of his belly where the pressure is the worst while the other rubs circles into its side, pressing into the tight skin beneath his hoodie, trying to relive some of the tension.