#disneysqueen

Sonya hadn't meant to pull away from Alexei. She'd barely moved, but being as close as they currently were, even the smallest of moments didn't go unnoticed. Alexei hadn't even done anything wrong; he was actually making all the right moves, but his hand had moved somewhere unexpected, and Sonya's body simply reacted. 

Even though she was literally pregnant, and Alexei had seen her completely naked when they made their baby, Sonya was still nervous. They'd been pretty drunk on her birthday, and her inhibitions had shown themselves out the door. When she thought back on that night, Sonya didn't think about how nervous she'd been or how self-conscious she felt about her body. She didn't think about those things because she hadn't felt them at the time, but now they were sober and married, and her nerves were rearing their ugly heads. 

"It's okay," Sonya murmured, biting down the inside of her body lip anxiously. "I'm just... no one has ever..." She trailed off and shook her head. "I don't have very much to offer as far as... assets go." She'd overheard too many jocks talking about being an ass guy or a boob guy. Did those boys honestly not know that they were giving teenage girls a complex? Sonya was and always would be, in the words of teenage boys, flat as a board. 

Sonya knew it was silly. She and Alexei were married, for god's sake. But they'd only really started acting like a married couple recently, and this was the first time they'd ever casually made out on the couch. She wasn't sure if it was the laid-back setting or the fact that they were fully clothed, but as soon as Alexei's hand went under her shirt and to her chest, Sonya tensed. 

"I'm just a little self-conscious," Sonya admitted, trying to smile even though she was embarrassed. She didn't know what type of girl Alexei liked as far as physical appearance went. She didn't think she was hard to look at or anything, but since they'd been drunk the first time they hooked up, well, drunk people tended to forget whatever standards they may have. So, maybe, Sonya wasn't necessarily Alexei's type. Maybe he was just stuck with her. 

"I do," Ada replied immediately without a second of hesitation. The pause that followed should have come before she blurted this out, but she couldn't take it back now. Afton looked at her as if he was trying to figure out if a rushed response meant she really did trust him or if she was simply telling him what he wanted to hear. In this case, it was the former.

Ada's trust in Afton came from a few things. First and foremost, he was her husband, and they'd made vows to one another. Their wedding ceremony might not have been the most joyous occasion, but that didn't mean Ada hadn't meant the words she'd said. She'd sworn on the King, the Prophets, and all things sacred that she would put her trust in her husband.

That wasn't the only reason, though. Ada trusted Afton because he hadn't given her a reason not to. Yes, their first few months together hadn't been on the best of terms, but he'd never done anything to upset her or put her in harm's way. Afton had continuously upheld his vows to shelter and aid her and make her health a priority. Their home was often quiet, but not in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"I do," Ada repeated, more sincerity in her words this time. She approached Afton and put her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat against her palm. "I do trust you, Afton. I am sorry if I haven't conveyed that trust in a way that you can see, but please, husband, believe that it is there." Afton put his hand over hers and bowed his head slightly.

Foster had never been a violent man. He was far too intelligent to stoop as low as throwing fists. There was always another way to take someone down without breaking a sweat; you just had to be patient enough to find it. And where he wasn't violent, he was patient. Foster understood that in many cases, good things came to those who waited. He'd figured out a long time ago that the key was to work smarter, not harder. The problem he was facing now, however, wasn't as easily worked through as mathematical physics. 

He'd never much cared for a personal life. Foster didn't see the point in having deep relationships when he knew the other person wouldn't be on his level. He didn't even mean the same intelligence level; he knew there weren't many people out there who could measure up to him in that field. The level Foster meant was one of emotional intelligence and the way they viewed the world. He couldn't be with a woman who only saw rainbows and sunshine. He didn't want to be with a soft woman who had a backbone made of jelly. Foster would chew a woman like that up and spit her out. 

Mary Jane Vanderbilt was not that type of woman. She was a forest fire, leaving devastation in her wake everywhere she went. Eighteen years old and on a level that most women wouldn't ever reach. Foster had known she was different from the moment he laid eyes on her. The fact that they'd gotten married after only a month proved to him they were supposed to be together. A man like him didn't make hasty decisions like that. 

Unfortunately, neither of them was the type of person who easily adapted to another person, even when that other person was their spouse. Decisions had been made, agreements reached, and now they were spending time apart to save their marriage. So, why did Foster feel so terrible all the god damned time? 

He had many negative qualities about him, he knew that, but Foster didn't go back on a deal or promise that he made. So, he wasn't going to give up on the vows he'd made to MJ or the promise he'd made to live apart while they worked through their issues. Even if it fucking hurt. Instead, Foster had decided to turn into a violent man. 

"I can't," Foster told his wife through gritted teeth. The only way he could keep from screaming was by locking his jaw. And when he couldn't scream, he broke things. Foster picked up another glass he kept on the bar at his office and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, and the shards joined the others on the floor. "Believe me, I know that's not what you want to hear." 

Foster wished that he could just say fuck it and go home to his wife. But he knew that neither of them would like the man he became if he started going back on the things he said he'd do. It was ingrained deep within his DNA to follow through on what he started. He couldn't change that about himself. Hell, Foster didn't want to change that about himself. Even for the woman he loved. 

"I hope not," Jonah teased lightly, trying to keep Henley from getting too upset. He knew that wasn't really possible given their circumstances, but since he wasn't there to comfort her physically, he had to do what he could halfway across the world. "If the kid knows whats good for him, he'll definitely take after you." Their boy didn't know it yet, but his mother was the most beautiful woman who had ever been born. Nicky would be doing himself a favor by favoring her.

The fact that Jonah was in California while his newborn son was in London was gutwrenching. The pain that Jonah felt every second of every day was indescribable. He didn't know that pain like this could even be felt without killing someone, but here he was, suffering through it. Every fiber of his being was urging him to just get on a fucking plane and deal with the consequences later, but he couldn't do that. With his luck, Jonah would get caught by customs and detained in the airport. Then he'd really never get to Nicky and Henley.

They had a plan. If Jonah's visa didn't come in by the time Nicky was four months old, Henley would bring him to California. Their doctors had told them they didn't think it would be safe or smart for Nicky to be on a transatlantic flight until then. As much as it hurt, they understood, and neither of them wanted to put Nicky in harm's way. But the idea of not being able to meet his son until then was driving Jonah crazy. The thought of not being able to hold Henley made him even crazier. He hurt all the time, and he was so alone, and it felt like there was no end in sight.

"I'm gonna send another blanket tomorrow," Jonah mused. Nothing he could say would make Henley feel better, but he had to keep trying. He showed her the blanket he was referring to. It was a really terrible shade of green, but the only one the store had at the time. He'd been sleeping with it for over a month now so that it would smell like him. Jonah didn't know if infants could recognize people by their smells, but if so, he wanted Nicky to know his.

"Oh, shoot, baby I forgot," Jonah hopped up from his bed and hurried over to the pile of stuff he was sending Henley's way. "Check it out... These will definitely make him look like me..." He showed her the tiniest pair of Vans that had probably ever been made. Jonah smiled at the thought of Nicky wearing them; these kinds of images kept him going.

"Please don't cry, Hen," Jonah murmured. He moved back to his bed so that they could lay down together. It was the middle of the afternoon for him, but getting close to bedtime for Henley. Considering she was the only one there to get up with Nicky, she needed all the sleep she could get. But Jonah had vowed to wake up with her every time; all she had to do was call him. "It's gonna be over before we know it."

Abigail wasn't that surprised that Charlie had never thought about having children before. She didn't think it was something that many guys thought about unless they were in a serious relationship. They'd discussed past partners, and she thought that some of Charlie's past relationships could've been ones that were serious enough for future children conversations, but maybe not. Abigail kind of liked that, though. She was glad that there were no girls out there who had once had imaginary babies with her boyfriend.

"That's okay," Abigail assured him, reaching across their table to put her hand on his cheek. She didn't want Charlie to feel bad about not knowing anything about babies; he was young, there was no reason that he should know anything! Abigail only knew as much as she did because it was what she went to school for. "I'll make sure you know everything you need to before the baby is here." She searched Charlie's face for a moment before she smiled slightly and looked back down at her lunch.

They'd talked everything through, and Abigail believed Charlie when he said that he was ready to do this for her. She was still nervous, though. Sure, she could tell Charlie everything he needed to know to care for their baby, but she couldn't make him excited. Abigail couldn't make him genuinely thrilled to see her figure change or interested to know what her body was doing to keep their baby safe. She knew that Charlie would pretend to be interested when she gave him updates of what was happening on a given week, but would she be able to tell he didn't really care?

Abigail was scared she would be able to tell if he didn't care. If she could tell, she knew she'd eventually stop telling him, and she didn't know if Charlie would ask. She wanted to believe in him; she honestly did, but this was new, and they didn't know everything about each other. Abigail loved him, and she loved that she was pregnant with Charlie's baby, but would he grow to resent her? Especially if something happened between them.

Charlie's hand cupped her chin, and Abigail looked up at him again, offering him a smile. She could tell by how he looked at her that he knew she had something on her mind. It was times like this and looks like those that reminded her that they could read each other. Which meant, if she could tell if Charlie was faking his excitement, Charlie would be able to tell that she could.

"We've got plenty of time," Abigail said, turning her face slightly so she could kiss his palm. Maybe it was too early in the pregnancy to start asking him questions about what he thought or wanted. She didn't want to bombard Charlie with too much information. For his sake, she needed to take her excitement down a notch so she wouldn't freak him out. But she did need him to promise her something, to ease her mind at least a little.

"She loves you, D..." Misha chuckled softly and shook her head. Dean's tone hadn't sounded defensive exactly, but he had seemed unsure if this was a situation all parties would be comfortable with. He and Natalie had been alone together, of course, but never for long periods, and never this close to Nat's bedtime. Natalie was used to being held close as she fell asleep, though, and she didn't care who was doing the holding.

Misha moved towards the couch and stood behind where Dean sat. Natalie had her head tucked into the crook of his neck and her thumb in her mouth. Her eyes weren't completely closed yet, but she was close to sleep. Dean didn't look uncomfortable in the slightest. He'd even moved positions to accommodate the toddler in Misha's absence.

"You make her feel safe," Misha murmured. She ran her fingers through Dean's hair for a moment before leaning down to kiss his cheek. She put her arms around him and Natalie and leaned her head on his shoulder. Misha gazed at her baby for a moment, running her fingers soothingly through Nat's brown waves. "You make both of us feel safe..."

Without disturbing Natalie, Dean reached around for Misha. In his current position, he could only get a good grip on her robe and used that to tug her around the side of the couch. Misha laughed softly at both the gesture and the silly grin on Dean's face. Moving like an expert who had done this a million times, Dean shifted enough so that she could lay down next to him without falling off the couch. Natalie whined softly, and they both went still, but she simply scrunched up more into Dean's neck and kept on sleeping.

"I love you so much," Misha mumbled. Her eyes were on Natalie as she said this, so Dean stayed silent. Misha's weren't meant for one over the other, though, so Misha turned her head to look up at him. "I love you," She said again. "So so much..." She stretched up so that she could kiss him, and she kept kissing him as he murmured his love against her lips.

"I'm not gonna leave," Misha promised, raising her hand to give Dean the scout's honor. She offered a smile to back up her promise, and after looking at her for a few long moments, Dean smiled back and went on his way. She kept her eyes on the door for a while after he left, maybe trying to will him to come back through the door and say he was ditching work for the day. Misha missed him already, and he hadn't even been gone five minutes. 

Misha couldn't stay here the entire day without leaving, and Dean knew that. She needed to pick up Natalie and get some work done. There was also her long to-do list that included items Dean had asked her to pick up for him. So, she couldn't stay inside all day. But Misha knew that wasn't what Dean meant when he asked her not to leave. He simply wanted her to be there when he got home from work. 

Up until this point, Misha didn't come over until Dean told her she could or asked if she would. It wasn't that she didn't think she was welcomed here because Misha knew she was; she just didn't feel like this was her place to move about freely. She felt most comfortable when Dean was in the apartment with her. When he was home, it was easier for her to go through cabinets or drawers. But with him gone, she felt like she was snooping. 

Misha had expressed her concerns to Dean the night before. She didn't want to go into this new relationship not being open with each other. Misha had a lot of baggage, and it still weighed her down from time to time. And as hard as it may sometimes be, Dean needed to be okay with it for their relationship to work. So, Misha was being as open as possible about what she was feeling, even if the situation seemed small. 

Dean's response hadn't come as much as a surprise, honestly. Misha knew what kind of guy he was. He'd listened to her and answered the questions she had even if she hadn't asked them outright. It came as a great relief for Misha to know that her vulnerability would be met with honesty. This was the type of relationship she wanted and needed for herself and Natalie. It's what they both deserved after so much pain. 

"I always want you here," Dean had told her, his hands cupping her face so that he could look into her eyes. The sincerity in his tone brought tears to her eyes (that and the pregnancy hormones). Before they went to sleep, Misha had made the same promise she made this morning; she wasn't going to leave. By the morning, she was considering Dean's apartment home. 

After a few more minutes of being lost in her thoughts, Misha stood up and padded across the kitchen. A small smile formed on her lips as she thought about washing their bowl in their kitchen sink. And how she'd go into their bathroom to get ready for her day. And when Dean got home from work this evening, Misha and their daughter would be waiting for him. 

"No, I'm not," Claire argued, halfheartedly shoving Adrien away. She hated being called adorable or cute; she thought it made her sound like a child. But she supposed she did look pretty adorable in the photo he'd taken of her earlier in the day. Plus, she knew that Adrien wasn't calling her that to try and belittle her in some way. He probably really meant what he said. 

The thing that made the picture so cute was that Claire looked genuinely happy in it. And thinking back on the day she'd spent with Adrien, she realized that he'd probably captured her at the happiest she'd ever been. The fact that she'd been looking right at him, and reacting to something he'd said, didn't escape her. Neither was the fact that he had everything to do with why she was so happy. 

Adrien had shown up on Thursday evening, telling her to pack a bag because they were going away for the weekend. Claire had told him on Wednesday that she needed a break and that she wanted to spend some time with him at some point that weekend. Claire hadn't expected Adrien to finish up all the work he had and make weekend-long plans for the two of them. Not only had he planned a weekend away, but he'd taken her to the place she'd always wanted to go. 

Claire's favorite song was Vienna by Billy Joel, and she'd always loved the idea of Vienna being there waiting for her once she'd finished all the things she needed to do in life. Claire had been idolizing Vienna and Austria as a whole for years but never thought she'd actually get there. She didn't even remember telling Adrien how much she wanted to visit Austria, but somehow he knew. Somehow he'd noticed and remembered something about her that she didn't even realize she'd shared. 

"You're my favorite person I've ever met," Claire murmured, her eyes still on the photo. She turned her head up after a moment to look at him and offered a small smile. "There's not much competition, but still..." She shrugged slightly, knowing she'd probably made the moment weird, but she didn't care. Claire wanted him to know how much this meant to her.