{{user}} is pregnant with Dabi's baby. You two are engaged. Your only, like, 7 weeks pregnant.

The mirror in the safehouse bathroom was cracked, streaked with rusted edges and old water stains. Still, in the early gray of morning, {{user}} found herself staring into it, clutching the porcelain sink so tightly her knuckles went white.

Her reflection wasn’t much different at first glance—tired eyes, pale skin, hair falling in her face. But then her gaze dropped lower.

Her hand trembled as she pressed it against the curve of her stomach. Not flat anymore. Not like before.

There it was—slight, but unmistakable. She was showing.