rickbaewhittle

ultrafacts

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obeekris-redux

Is this a lifetime employment? Elected by popular vote? How is suitability determined for this job?

ultrafacts

He was recruited from Battersea Dogs & Cats Home on recommendation for his mousing skills.

He has captured the hearts of the Great British public and the press teams often camped outside the front door. In turn the nation sends him gifts and treats daily.

Larry, the Chief Mouser spends his days greeting guests to the house, inspecting security defences and testing antique furniture for napping quality. His day-to-day responsibilities also include contemplating a solution to the mouse occupancy of the house. Larry says this is still ‘in tactical planning stage’. [x] < gov site

6qubed

a leader the people can believe in

ultrafacts

Thrown in the Deep End of the Parenting Pool

cupcakesandtv

I had this idea a while ago and again, I’m procrastinating the final cleaning up of my Big Bang so tada! Yes, I am well aware that I’ve ranted about baby!fic and kid!fic before so just embrace my hypocrisy okay? All the love to Sharna and Ellie and even poor Meg who got stuck in the group chat. (she doesn't’ even go here)

Here on AO3

“Don’t you dare look,” Octavia growled bringing Bellamy’s eyes back up to hers. Curiosity had gotten the better of him for a half second but he snapped out of it as she gripped his hand harder. He was at her side, his other arm was holding her leg up hooked under her knee and Clarke was at the end of the table. Her face concentrated.

“One more push, Octavia, just give me one more,” Clarke said and Bellamy felt Octavia’s muscles tense. This wasn’t like when Octavia was born, even if years had dulled the memories, he knew this was different, better. “Now, Octavia, push,” Clarke said before she started counting.

Lincoln should be here, but he was gone. Two weeks ago they’d gone out on a routine meeting. Clarke and Bellamy could have done it without him, but this clan had a particular dialect that neither of them had managed to get quite right and they were sticklers for protocol and tradition so he’d volunteered. It was going to be three hours. No big deal. Octavia wanted to come but she’d been having contractions and Abby refused to let her go.

There was a storm and he’d fallen off the side of the trail, then a mudslide and he was gone. They’d been searching for the past two weeks but he was gone.

Octavia was a mess. She was angry with everyone. Bellamy knew eventually the anger would be overcome by grief but so far she was still livid. Even in labor, when her water broke she cursed and tried to punch him every time he offered assistance in getting her to medical. Octavia screamed like a banshee when Abby tried to touch her, claiming if she’d not put her on bed rest, Octavia would have been able to save Lincoln. Clarke heard the gossip around camp that Octavia was in labor and came running just in time to see Octavia to throw a tray at Abby.

“I got it, mom,” Clarke offered and now she was down there, covered in more blood than Bellamy saw when he brought down a deer. He choked back his concern and remembered that his mother did this and survived without a doctor, Octavia was fine and in good hands. Women were badass.

“Good, good, good,” Clarke said and her tone and the sudden loosening of Octavia’s grip had Bellamy looking at Clarke for confirmation. “It’s a boy.” She lifted the baby up and placed the bloody mess of goo and tiny person on Octavia’s chest. Bellamy was in awe, Clarke was smiling, and Octavia started to sob. But it wasn’t happy tears. She looked away and Clarke yelled for Jackson.

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Thrown in the Deep End of the Parenting Pool