beth fababy âđťđź
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beth fababy âđťđź

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So my writerâs block is still a thing, but Iâve been trying to pluck away at a paragraph or two here and there when inspiration strikes. I didnât get anything finished for faberry week, but have a fababy teaser that may or may not get finished someday. ~~~
Itâs quiet, which isnât all together unusual on a Friday afternoon. In fact, it used to be a near regular occurrence in the days before Calliope had been born, when Rachel would rush off to the theater and Quinn would be left alone to write or bake or shop for a few hours without interruption. Life after their daughter has been wonderfully less quiet, but even now, with Callie spending part of the day in her pre-K classes, the quiet hours are few and far between, especially now that Rachel is on an extended sabbatical from her previously insane schedule. Â
Itâs a good thing.Â
Itâs a wonderful thing.Â
Itâs a thing that Quinn has been wanting for years. Sheâs ridiculously proud of her wife and every amazing thing that sheâs accomplishedâthings sheâd vowed to achieve practically from the moment sheâd been out of diapers and had made happen through sheer talent and force of willâbut Quinn had failed to fully grasp the bitter reality of sharing Rachel with the inhumanely long and irregular hours of a show business life. Oh, sheâd been stupidly confident about her preparedness when theyâd gotten married, of course, but adding a child to the mix had made everything so much harder than sheâd anticipated. She will never outright admit that Rachel had been right about that part of becoming moms, so she grins and bears it with stubborn resolve because she wouldnât dare change a single thing about their family.
Even now.
Especially now.Â
Theyâre alone in their bedroom, the early afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, warming their skin. Oliver is curled up on the floor, exactly centered in a bright patch of sunlight as he naps with his nose tucked into his paw. Callie is currently blocks away in her classroom at the Brownstone School, no doubt concentrating on whatever educational craft Miss Polly has sprung on them today, safe under watchful eyes until the time comes for her mothers to pick her up. Their friends are at work or maybe at home, lost in their own lives and families until the next time they talk. And Rachel is here with her, lying on their bed in the stillness of this moment, just the two of them.
No.Â
Not just the two of them.Â
Quinnâs lips curve against a cotton covered breast, gaze drawn to her palm where it rests low over Rachelâs belly beneath her wifeâs trembling fingers, warm touch united on the strip of bare skin between her bunched up shirt and unbuttoned jeans. Rachelâs other hand is tangled into Quinnâs hair, where itâs been for ten minutes now, ever since theyâd come home to their quiet apartment and wordlessly headed straight to their bedroom to fall into this position across their bed.Â
Itâs been about a month nowâtwenty-two days (but whoâs counting?)âsince Quinn had sworn to Rachel, right in this very bed, that it was happening this time. Sheâd had a good feeling. (Sheâd had one the first time too, but maybe it had only been relief that theyâd gotten through the even more unpleasant cocktail of fertility drugs than what theyâd suffered through with Calliope. Maybe it had only been her own naivety after two easy pregnancies, thinking that nothing could ever go wrong.) But this time around, theyâd both approached it with more caution.Â
After ten days, thereâd been a positive test with good hCG levels, but theyâd had that the first time too, so they hadnât celebrated. Well, they hadnât celebrated much; every hope and joy expressed was still tempered with caution.Â
At thirteen days, the results had only gotten better, and better again at sixteenâitâs the only thing Quinn had wanted for her birthday this yearâbut they still hadnât celebrated; hadnât let themselves fully settle into thinking it would happen for certain this time, even with Rachel suffering through the persistent nausea of morning sickness that doesnât always confine itself to the mornings but still seems so much milder than what Quinn had experienced twice. Neither one of them can quite decide if thatâs a worry or a relief.Â
Even now, less than an hour removed from their six week checkup and the ultrasound that had proven to them that, yes, there is one (and only one, to Rachelâs immense relief) healthy, viable embryo with a perfect, beautiful heartbeat growing safely inside of Rachel, they both understand that nothing is guaranteed. They've learned that the hard way and send up daily prayers in two religions that theyâll never have to experience the lesson in that particular way ever again.
Butâ
Thereâs a perfect, beautiful, wonderful, amazing, miraculous little life inside of her wife whose heart is beating so steadily and, sweet Jesus, Quinn is so fucking happy right now. She wants this so much; is so excited for it.
Sheâs been a mother for more than half her life now, but only a mom for five short years, and sheâs good at it. Beth and Calliope are the best things sheâs ever done. Sheâs proud of her life, of her books and her friendships and her marriage, but her daughters are her greatest accomplishments. She loves being a mom, and now she has the chance to do it all again with the little person growing under her palm. Thereâs a little piece of her inside of Rachel, and holy cow, is it weird to think about. Sheâs used to doing this the other way around, and sheâs not really sure what sheâs supposed to do when it isnât happening inside of her.Â
All of her protective instincts are already fired up to dangerous levels, and sheâs afraid sheâs going to end up hovering as much as Rachel did. She already wants to keep her off her feet and in this bed for the next eight months. Itâs awful and wonderful and Rachel is never going to let her hear the end of her I-told-you-sos. Sheâll listen to them on repeat as long as Rachel stays relaxed and safe and pregnant while she says them. Â
Pregnant.Â
Quinnâs smile grows. This is further than theyâd gotten the last time, and her good feeling is rearing up with a vengeance. She canât wait to see the proof of their second child really begin to show in her wifeâs body. Already, Rachelâs breasts are more sensitive, and Quinn swears theyâre even a little bigger than they were just last week. (Sheâs intimately acquainted with them after all these years so she would know.)Â But thereâs only the tiniest, firm curve to her belly, hardly noticeable at all, and Quinn canât wait to see and feel their baby moving under her skinâwhere her own fingers are splayed wide, seeking the extra connection.Â
When Rachelâs fingers slot in between hers, Quinn lifts her gaze to meet glistening brown eyes. âWeâre having a baby,â she breathes out reverently, her smile irrepressible.
Rachelâs lips quiver into an answering smile. âYeah, we are.â Thereâs a breathless tremor in her voice, but Quinn can hear the wonder in it too. Everyday, Rachel grows a little more confident that itâs really going to happen this time, and Quinn lets her hope run free.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
[BABY UPDATE]
Your OB appointment will include a complete medical history and a thorough physical, including a pelvic exam, breast exam, urine test, pap smear and blood work. This is to check your overall health and identify any factors that put you at risk for pregnancy.Â
You are 12 weeks and 5 days pregnant. (Fetal age: 10 weeks and 5 days)Â
the baby's name is louise fabray-berry, i'm still thinking about the name of the other babies probably something broadway.
this drawing was already finished a long time ago, i actually just had to paint it XD anyway.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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faberry memes ft brittana with faberry's daughter
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faberry and a little fababy, her name is louise.