Can someone learn how to speed up time?

The sooner I can give birth the better. These hormones are killing me.

Just letting everyone know I’m okay.

elipuckerman:

That’s what I said I’m doing. I miss you too, Becs.

You doing okay out there?

Just letting everyone know I’m okay.

elipuckerman:

I’ll be home soon.

Just….come home soon. I miss you, you adorable jerk.

Never. Leaving. My room. Again.

Hormones suck.

OOC-

Anyone actually around?

Come To My Window || Becca & Charlie

fullmooncharlie:

Charlie shrugged at Becca’s reaction, responding lightly, “I will. You’ll need more things to go on the walls than just one painting anyways.” She could see the wheels turning in Becca’s head, a million stressful thoughts running through the girl’s mind as she spoke of old book story characters instead of whatever was on her mind. She knew that Becca was frustrated, had to have been feeling at least slightly overwhelmed, and it saddened her that there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing Becca would let her do anyways. If it were up to her, she would come over every day and work on a nursery. She would paint the walls in great sweeping murals, hand make curtains in light, soft fabrics that let in just enough sunlight, bring over books and toys to fill the space with. She just wanted to see Becca smile again at her future. She hadn’t seen the girl smile in so long.

“It’s good that they’re excited. They’ll make wonderful grandparents.” She smiled softly at the thought of Hiram and Leroy each running around with a little girl or boy, Becca watching on proudly but also worriedly as was her nature. She couldn’t help thinking of herself in that picture as well, rubbing a hand comfortingly down Becca’s back to calm her overactive imagination that was surely thinking of all the ways her children could get hurt. Shaking her head lightly to remove the image, she said lightly, “Maybe they’ll want to raise your baby or babies Jewish. I just keep imagining tiny yarmulkes.”

Becca turned her head and furrowed her eyebrows at Charlie like she just said the most ridiculous thing in the world and it felt like she did. “Of course they’re going to want the babies to be raised Jewish. And they will be. Or it will be. Whatever. I’m Jewish. My fathers are Jewish. Why wouldn’t I raise my offspring Jewish?” It was a reason she was pretty sure her fathers wouldn’t much mind Puck being Rachel’s mate. He was Jewish, after all. Which meant that they could pretty much already call whatever child they might have their Jewish grandbaby. Not that they had anything against people who weren’t Jewish. They were just proud of their religion, of their heritage and she knew they would be happy that at least one of their children was guaranteed to have a Jewish spouse. Then again, they seemed to be pretty sure Becca would never had a spouse. She couldn’t blame them for that. She didn’t exactly date.

Once the painting was tucked into the closet with the stuff Finn bought her Becca closed the door and started to run her fingers through her wet hair again. What the fuck was she supposed to say to her? It wasn’t like things were better with them. Not even close. As nice as it was for her to paint that picture for the baby or babies it didn’t mean that everything was alright with the two of them. She didn’t know if it ever would be. She was still so annoyed and just wasn’t sure she could trust her yet. Maybe she’d never trust her again. Maybe Becca and Charlie would never be Becca and Charlie again. And that probably should have bothered her more than it did. But for some reason she wasn’t all that bothered by them not going back to what they were. But that didn’t mean she was comfortable enough to turn her head and look at her for too long. Instead she just moved over to her dresser to get her brush so she could brush her hair. “I think they’d have a heart attack if I didn’t raise any kid I had Jewish.”

Text to Becca