The slightest of smiles crossed Jim's face. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." he said before returning to his phone call. "So if you have what you say you have," he said back to the person on the cell phone as he proceeded to calmly walk out of the room. "I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes..." And with a snap of his fingers, the snipers disappeared and it was all over.
Niso nodded as he held the baby up and was grabbing one of the towels he'd brought from the bathroom, cleaning it off. "It's out Francis, it's out." He said, looking up at the younger male. "Is that...is that all of them?" Niso asked meekly, swallowing a lump in his throat. He doubted Francis was up for another birth. He laid the baby once it was cleaned and wrapped up with it's siblings, looking over the little babies before he turned his attention back on Francis again. "Oh, thank goodness." Francis hung his head and grunted tiredly. His fingers trailed over his newly deflated stomach and pressed just above his pubic bone, feeling for any hardness. "I-I think so." When Francis found none he shook his head. A soft sigh escaped his mouth as he crawled over to Niso and laid his head in his lap, hands reaching out to clutch at the older male's shirt. After a few seconds, the young man broke down, sobbing quietly. He was utterly exhausted, his body physically spent of energy.
Francis bit his lips, shaking his head. "..No," he answered truthfully. His whole entire backside ached and he was also having difficulty regaining breath, his swollen womb was placing too much pressure on his diaphragm. Groaning, Francis rubbed one hand over his stomach and held the other to the middle of his back where the pain was strongest. Whining and groaning, he rested his chin against Niso's shoulder. "I think..I wanna get out..c-change positions.."Niso nodded and looked down at him, wrapping his arms around him to help him up. "Alright, back to the bed?" He asked softly, helping to lift Francis up out of the tub. He could tell from the swell of Francis' stomach that the younger male wasn't done, and he cringed at the thought that Francis might not have the motivation to keep pushing. Francis pressed his lips together. "Y-Yeah. But hurry, I can feel it moving down.." He let Niso help him to his feet, swaying a little as he spread his legs and shuffled towards the bedroom, his waddle especially pronounced now. A new bolt of pain laced through him each time his hips were jostled. They were barely to the bed when another contraction tore down his lower back and abdomen, forcing a surprised cry from his lips. His legs trembled and he practically fell into Niso's arms.
That was really good. Felt really bad for Merlin when he felt he had to flee. I knew Arthur would never really try and hurt him, but his behavior when he took Merlin back to Camelot was really scary. Loved the birthing scene, with Arthur finally realizing what Merlin was afraid of and Merlin being too delirious to comprehend what Arthur was saying. Really glad they worked things out and got their happy ending with their cute baby.
Merlin doubted it. He gazed down at his son in fascination. It occurred to him to be thankful he hadn’t grown actual breasts while he was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how much his masculinity could endure, carrying a child was bad enough but breasts would have probably tipped him over the edge. He had lost all of his chest hair but that seemed a small price to pay.
Jack swung down hard with the axe splitting the piece of wood almost perfectly in two. He liked chopping wood, it helped him forget. Forget things like dropping out of his residency to help care for his elderly parents way up in the mountains. At least up here there was not a hospital or even a clinic around for miles to remind him of his abandon career of becoming a doctor. Now that his parents finally past on Jack was left with a stalled life and a mountain home that was not selling. As he placed another log on the chopping block he saw a snow flake fall on his hand, great he thought another storm! There goes my chances of getting into town today.
The sunlight shone into a deep green bedroom, from the floor to the bedspread and the walls around them.  Amidst them rose a high hill, shifting around slightly. But the sheets slid down, revealing the hill to be a very pregnant womb, stretched to the limits by four babies, healthy and ready to be born any day now according to the last appointment. In fact, the doctor was impressed Clare had been able to carry them so long, considering she was at the equivalent of a little over 9 months for quadruplets and she was warned to take it easy, and not do anything especially strenuous, which she reluctantly agreed to, usually a very active person. But this morning, she was filled with more energy than usual, hefting herself out of bed with a grunt and waddling as quickly as she could to pee, the babies pressing hard on her bladder as expected, taking up so much space in her as they did. Afterwards, she checked the clock, seeing that she still had a few hours before dinner and decide
I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking. 
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