#FETAL Solutions

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

How Can Sonio.ai Transform the Healthcare Industry?

I present my independent review of an AI-based healthcare solution, which is making a global impact and bringing us a step closer to Medicine 3.0 by documenting the transcript of an interactive podcast. Dear Subscribers, For those who haven’t met me yet, coming from a science and technology background for over four decades, I am dedicated to keeping technologists, health scientists, and…

[luvjunie]

heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment

— 2:00 AM

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3

Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.

He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.

He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.

It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.

He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.

He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.

He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.

He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.

“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.

You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.

”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.

“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.

You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.

“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.

”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.

“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.

“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.

You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.

“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.

“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.

“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.

“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”

He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”

His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.

“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.

Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.

“Miles?” you questioned gently.

Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.

[froggiewrites]

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!

This is going to kill you.

You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.

Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.

Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.

You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.

“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.

“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”

“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”

“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”

“Not enough.”

“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”

“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.

“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”

He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.

“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.

“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to be sure.”

“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.

“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”

His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.

He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.

“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”

He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”

“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.

You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started  just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.

“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.

“I’m great.”

“No cramps?”

You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.

“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”

“For now?”

“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.

“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.

For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”

“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.

“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.

“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.

“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.

“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.

You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[hctsummernights]

faith in love ༺☆༻

summary: in which alt!reader support matt through thick and thin and life with celiac disease (part of the kissing in cars universe!) warnings: autoimmune disease

You frowned as you rubbed Matt’s back, hating how small he looked, despite the fact that your bed was a twin XL. “Can I get you anything?” You asked gently. 

Matt shook his head, clutching the heating pad that you’d loaned him closer to his stomach. “No. ‘M okay.”

You curled up behind your boyfriend, allowing him to be the little spoon as you always did. This was the fourth time this week that this had happened, and it was only Wednesday. Matt would go about his day, only to end up curled in fetal position in either your or his bed less than an hour later. He had tried what felt like everything; smaller snacks instead of large meals, no greasy food, no dairy, and nothing seemed to help the awful stomach pains that would render him debilitated. 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, baby.” You mumbled, tucking a curl behind Matt’s ear. 

“‘S not your fault,” he groaned. “Fuck this shit. Can you hand me my phone?”

You nodded, sitting up and plucking Matt’s phone from the bed caddy that hung on your lofted bed. Matt whined at the pain in his abdomen as sat up, pressing the phone to his ear. You were curious for a moment until you heard the soft “hi mama” fall from his lips. Matt had always been a mama’s boy, so it didn’t surprise you that he was calling MaryLou while he wasn’t feeling well.

You continued to lay next to your boyfriend throughout the conversation, rubbing his knee softly. Finally, Matt hung up and tossed his phone towards the end of the bed, curling back into your side. He whimpered for a moment, clutching his stomach before he looked up at you with teary eyes. 

“Mom thinks I have celiac,” he mumbled. “So I have to get tested for it.”

Now that you thought about it, that would make sense. Matt’s stomach problems seemed to arise after a wheat-heavy meal; like today, when he had downed a plate of pasta for lunch. You hated the fact that he was dealing with all of this while, especially when the two of you had just moved away to college a few weeks ago. 

“That could explain it, sweetheart,” You hummed softly, carding your fingers through his hair. “Besides, getting tested might help you figure out how you can help yourself feel better.”

Matt groaned but nodded, shoving his face into the soft fabric of your System of a Down hoodie. The boy whimpered as his stomach let out a long, low grumble. “I hate this.”

You kissed his forehead, your hand snaking under the soft knit of his green sweater to rub his warm, bloated belly. “We’re gonna find a solution, babe. It’s not gonna be like this forever.” You promised. 

-

That’s how you found yourself standing over the stove four years later, stirring a pot of gluten free pasta. Matt had ended up being diagnosed with celiac disease over Christmas break of your freshman year of college. It was rough at first, having to find swaps for all of his favorite foods, but when you had made the pact to go gluten free with him, things had become a little easier. Obviously, he still had to worry about the risk of cross contamination and accidentally getting “glutened”, but the brunette’s quality of life had drastically improved since then. 

You both had graduated college with honors, Matt receiving a degree in social work and you in music education. There had been rough patches of course, including a break up for a few months somewhere in there, but things had worked out for the better. The love you and Matt shared for each other was stronger than anything else.

As your Spotify flipped from the previous song to “Kissing in Cars” by Pierce the Veil, you couldn’t help but to smile. That had been your and Matt’s song for years. Despite being quite literally polar opposites, you both loved the lyrics. As if on perfect cue, you heard your fiancé’s keys jingling in the lock of your front door. A few moments later, Matt appeared in the kitchen, shedding his flannel and tossing it over a chair.

“You’re still playing this song, huh?” he murmured, coming around the island and wrapping you in a hug from behind. 

“Don’t even play with me,” You joked, kissing his cheek. “You know you love it too.” You said, smiling as you noticed the vampire-red lipstick stain you’d left on his soft skin. 

“Gluten free?” Matt asked, peering into the pot of pasta. 

“No.” You said deadpan. 

“Oh,” Matt feigned sadness. “I guess you want me to die then, huh?”

“Not until we’re married.” You giggled. 

Matt smiled, taking in your beauty as drained the pot and plated the food. People were shocked about you two as a couple, but to Matt, you were the most perfect person in the world. You had been there for him through thick and thin, supporting him through his journey with an autoimmune disease, and even going as far as to still be kind to him when his mental health had gotten so bad he had broken up with you for a few months. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the song playing from your phone ended. Rather than sitting down for dinner, he hit the rewind button and grabbed the plates from your hands, setting them on the counter. 

“May I have this dance?” he joked, smile lopsided. 

“You may.” You smiled. 

Matt pressed his forehead to your own, swaying softly. “I love you.” he hummed. 

And he meant it. He would mean it every day until he died, and then every day after that. You had saved him in so many ways and continued to do so. No matter how different the two of you were, he was sure that you were his soulmate. He'd find you in every lifetime if he had to.

“…Cause there's faith in love”

a/n: me when i google "how to make fictional people real" so kissing in cars matt can be my bf

[thrashkink-coven]

The one major thing I’ve taken away from my couple days of arguing with Christians about abortion in the Bible is that they always must insist that I am saying these things because I want the Bible to agree with my views. I know this is only because they use the bible as justification for their views… but guys….

Babes,… I’m a fucking Luciferian. Come on. Why would I care about whether or not the Bible agrees with abortion? I’m obviously not following the Bible anyways. If i wanted a reason to justify my beliefs…I wouldn’t be using the Bible… because the Bible clearly does not follow my morality anyways.

I am a supreme lover or theology, history, and culture. I am far more interested in the followers of Christ than Christ himself. And likewise, I find the creation of the Bible fascinating. I think the evolution of Judaism to Christianity is one of the most interesting things in the world. I love humanity, far more than I care about its God. I want to know what values, characteristics, doctrine, they considered to be divine and projected onto their God. I only study the word of God so I can understand the human hands that wrote it.

When I say “the Bible never condemns abortion, here are some contextual pieces of history and scripture that clearly explore God’s perspective on fetal life” I’m not saying “look guys! The Bible is pro abortion and that means we all should be too!!! This totally proves me right about everything!!!”

because it simply doesn’t.

I woke up one morning with a curiosity: “How did people in antiquity regard abortion?” and the clear solution to that curiosity was to read the manual they created for their people. Turns out the manual isn’t all that conclusive, and would actually point towards a complex answer. Does that mean their views were correct, moral, or justified? I honestly don’t care! My opinions on their beliefs don’t matter! The only thing that matters was the intention of the people and the effect these intentions had on the people.

Whether or not the big G-D is truly against abortion could not be known to me, a mere pagan heathen. But what I will continue to say, because I know it to be true now that I’ve spent this much time researching it:

Abortion and/or intentional miscarriage is never at any point stated to be a sin in the Bible or any Biblical text. Never is abortion condemned in the Bible, never is any woman said to be sinning or going to hell for having an abortion or intentional miscarriage. Never at any point, ever, does God say abortion is a crime, and never at any point is it implied that abortion is murder. On the contrary, it is established that it is not.

There are pieces of scripture that clearly establish that the mother is of greater significance than the fetus, and people in antiquity did not consider an infant to be a full person until at its first breath at least, and usually only after a few months of life because of the fact that around 50% of newborns would die anyways. To terminate a thing that might not even live anyways was regarded far differently than killing a fully established person. Due to the increased risk of death during childbirth and the slim chance of newborn survival, it was very normal and common for women to induce intentional miscarriages to save their life. The only instance in which infanticide may have been considered the same as murder was only in the case of late term “abortions” where the fetus had a full form, and looked like a baby (which, we still do not do to this day. It’s illegal to have an abortion in the 9th month).

and to be extremely clear: Premature babies did not survive in antiquity. A premature birth was a still birth or miscarriage. When Exodus 21 says: “If people are fighting and hit a pregnant woman and she gives birth prematurely[a] but there is no serious injury, the offender must be fined whatever the woman’s husband demands and the court allows. 23 But if there is serious injury, you are to take life for life, 24 eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, 25 burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise.

they are referring to a miscarriage. That’s why on every single version of this verse you can find online and in most english translations there is always a footnote on the word “prematurely” that says “or miscarriage”

This isn’t some secret pro-choice agenda. This was the intended meaning of the text. Translators are not trying to support abortion, they are trying to support the intended truth.

Because the fetus was the property of the husband, the loss of the fetus would result in a fine paid to the husband. Further harm caused to the living mother was paid via execution if she died, or a hand for a hand, foot for foot etc. This is the most agreed upon interpretation that makes the most sense in accordance to the customs of the Jewish people and other laws of nearby nations in which Hebrews inhabited.

So, to conclude this shit show,

I don’t give a shit a fuck or a damn what YHWH thinks of abortion. I find the opinions and beliefs of his people to be far more interesting and historically significant. Based on their literature, we can get a pretty comprehensive view on their ideals when it came to this topic. Their ideals have absolutely nothing to do with mine nor do they add legitimacy to mine.

I just like theology guys lmfao

and you bet your ass that I’m going to take the time to do my research if there’s a chance that I accidentally shared misinformation (which I did! Numbers 5 are not instructions on how to do an abortion! That’s not the correct verse to use for this argument. That was totally my mistake.) In that research I only learned more about the ancient word that supports my original thesis.

and so, my original claim still remains true. The Bible does not condemn abortion. No biblical text ever condemns abortion, and God did not call it a sin.

💋

[fearfulfertility]

PATERNITY COMPOUND FINANCIAL SAVINGS

DRC, Facility Operations Command, Compound Oversight Unit

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: Paternity Compound 124 Creative Cost-Saving Efforts

Executive Summary

Paternity Compound 124 in [REDACTED], Idaho, has demonstrated exceptional productivity and cost efficiency this quarter, primarily due to implementing creative new budget policies to optimize management. The data indicates significant savings and output increases, positioning Compound 124 as a model for future compounds.

Total revenue saved this quarter: $[REDACTED]

I. Implemented Cost-Saving Measures

Clothing Elimination Initiative

After an exhaustive review of material costs, the decision was made to eliminate medical gowns and paternity clothing for surrogates. This measure, dubbed the "Bare Necessity Protocol," is based on the premise that clothing offers no functional benefit to surrogates who are perpetually growing or confined to medical beds due to mobility issues.

Rationale: Eliminates clothing costs entirely and simplifies laundry operations.

Savings: Reduced laundry, textile, and replacement costs by 98%.

Revenue Saved: $[REDACTED]

"Honestly, it’s just practical. They’re swelling up fast, and we’d need new gowns every other day. It simplifies things for us." - Staff Feedback

“They’ve taken everything—my freedom, my body, my dignity—and now they’ve taken my fucking underwear too. It's embarrassing! Thank god this belly is a furnace!” - Surrogate Feedback

"One Size Fits All" Feeding Solution

The compound replaced most surrogate food options with a cost-efficient pudding substitute nicknamed "Big Berry Bliss." Each serving contains a carefully calibrated mix of high-calorie nutrients, tranquilizers, appetite stimulants, and growth hormones to promote fetal growth and docility.

Rationale: Simplifies meal prep, reduces dishwashing needs, and ensures surrogates receive consistent nutrition. Eliminate the need for personalized meals or cafeteria staff while ensuring continuous weight gain and docility. Minimize pharmacy visits by delivering hormonal therapy directly in the food.

Results: Food service costs were reduced by 82%, pharmacy staffing by 65%, and food waste by 20%. Staff food options will be maintained. With revenue saved, high-quality options can now be considered.

Revenue Saved: $[REDACTED]

"Big Berry Bliss is so easy—just scoop, serve, and go. Hell, we just hand them a tub of the stuff, and they choke it down, then ask for more." - Staff Feedback

“This stuff tastes like sugar mixed with cream. A few of us complained, but they told us we didn't have to eat it. But we need so many calories for these pregnancies... most of us lasted until dinner.” - Surrogate Feedback

Wheel-In Baby Showers

To reduce the need for consoling services and bolster surrogate morale with cost-effective activities, staff introduced a celebratory “babies shower” where surrogates are wheeled out of the paternity ward before being removed for childbirth. Activities include:

Rationale: Boosts surrogate morale and reduces the need for psychological services. Staff wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers (repeat usage). Playing uplifting music like "Push It" by Salt-N-Pepa and "Baby Got Back."

Revenue Saved: $[REDACTED]

"The baby showers are kind of fun. A little music, some confetti, and you’re done. Their pregnancy brain is so bad they are more confused and distracted than anything, which makes rolling them out all the easier." - Staff Feedback

“They roll me out in front of everyone, playing stupid songs and yelling, ‘Congratulations!’ like I’ve won some prize. All I feel is pain and exhaustion. It’s not a celebration—it’s a mockery.” - Surrogate Feedback

Open-Air Hygiene Zones

Replace bathrooms with “communal hygiene areas,” which repurpose the fire suppression systems to allow for high-capacity showering. Now, entire paternity wards of surrogates can be cleaned en-mass, reducing the need for staff to move surrogates for cleaning and reducing personal toiletries requirements.

Rationale: Centralized hygiene reduces staff requirements and water waste.

Revenue Saved: $[REDACTED]

"The open-air hygiene zones are genius. Just hose everyone down at once, and you’re done. It saves so much time, and I don't spend entire days scrubbing them down. And honestly, it’s kind of fun to watch. Like a pregnant car wash." - Staff Feedback

“They never warn us when they're going to shower us! One minute, you're watching TV... the next, they blast us with water like we’re livestock. No privacy, no warmth, nothing!.” - Surrogate Feedback

II. Efficiency Metrics

Cost Per Surrogate: $[REDACTED] (down 23%).

Medical: $[REDACTED] (down 19%)

Nutrition Services: $[REDACTED] (down 30%)

Housing: $[REDACTED]

Security: $[REDACTED]

Psychological Support: $[REDACTED] (up 18%)

Maintenance & Facility Upkeep: $[REDACTED] (down 16%)

Logistics: $[REDACTED]

Entertainment: $[REDACTED]

Administrative: $[REDACTED] (down 14%)

Conclusion

Paternity Compound 124 has demonstrated exceptional efficiency in meeting and lowering costs. While surrogate morale remains an area for improvement, the cost savings and output gains achieved through innovative strategies set a benchmark for other compounds.

"Efficiency is the cornerstone of progress. At Compound 124, we’ve shown that we can achieve extraordinary results with a little creativity and focus. While some may view these changes as unconventional, the numbers speak for themselves—every dollar saved is another step toward securing our future."

Report Submitted By: [REDACTED], Administrator, Paternity Compound 124

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Sending...

Sending...

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----------------

To: Chief Operating Officer, Internal Affairs

From: Director [REDACTED]

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: Investigation into Administrator [REDACTED] and Misappropriation of Funds at Paternity Compound 124

Chief [REDACTED],

It has come to my attention that while Administrator [REDACTED] has implemented a series of operational changes at Paternity Compound 124 that have resulted in documented cost savings of $[REDACTED], evidence has surfaced indicating the potential misappropriation or embezzlement of these funds.

Emerging discrepancies in financial records suggest that a significant portion of the funds saved through these initiatives has not been reinvested into compound operations or returned to the DRC’s central budget.

Effective immediately, Administrator [REDACTED] is to be placed on administrative leave pending a full investigation.

Internal Affairs will oversee a comprehensive audit of his financial transactions, operational decisions, and any personal accounts associated with him.

Administrator [REDACTED]’s measures to reduce operational costs have yielded undeniable financial benefits, and these measures should not be dismissed out of hand. I am directing that the relevant improvements he initiated be thoroughly assessed and, if appropriate, rolled out on a trial basis at other compounds.

Internal Affairs will take care of this quickly and without bias. If Administrator [REDACTED] is found to have misappropriated DRC funds for personal gain, I expect full disciplinary action.

Regards,

Director [REDACTED]

----------------

Click Here to return to DRC Report Archives

[anyasathenaeum]

Reader Goes Feral When Trigun Boys Get Hurt - Anya's 100 Follower Event

Pairings: Vash x reader, Wolfwood x reader (separately)

A/N: Thank you to all the lovely individuals who requested this prompt for my 100 follower event! I'm inspired enough to write a joint post with blurbs for this, so enjoy! Also, there are still slots open, so feel free to request something, friends!

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, reader being badass

Vash the Stampede

"(Y/N)! Run, now! Get somewhere safe!"

Vash's words echoed in your head, but all you could do was stare down at the blood staining your clothing. Vash's blood. You'd felt your heart drop to the ground as you watched bullets tear through Vash, who had done nothing but try to calm the ire of the townsfolk chasing after him.

Your skin burned where Vash's blood stained it, and all you could hear was the thrumming of your blood in your ears as a fire began to spread through your veins. You couldn't hear anything, and suddenly, the fact that bullets were whizzing by didn't phase you. All you could think about was making the people who had shot Vash pay.

They were going to pay for shooting Vash if it was the last thing you ever did.

The world moved around you as if in slow-motion. You felt yourself moving faster than your brain could comprehend, pulling out your pistol and firing off shots to disarm the townsfolk before they could so much as wound you. You watched as the townsfolk realized what kind of rage was coursing through you, you watched as the fear began to register on their faces, but not fast enough to escape the all-consuming fire of your rage.

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

The voice that bellowed those words was not one you ever would've recognized as your own, but you couldn't care less. It was filled with anger and hatred and malice, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself shooting to hurt, if not to kill altogether.

You found yourself watching as blood bloomed on people's clothes as your bullets found their marks, muted cries of pain and fear ringing out as the wounded slowly fell to the ground and as their fellow townsfolk began to flee, sprinting and stumbling away as best they could. You watched as some trembled in fear, begging and praying for you to spare them, while others dove for cover.

'Why should I spare them?!' Hissed a primal, vicious voice from deep within you, 'I should show them the same mercy they showed Vash!'

But, as your gaze fell onto the crumpled form of the blonde-haired man, curled up in the fetal position around the bullet wounds in his stomach, you suddenly felt a pang of horror and realization go through you.

This isn't what Vash would want.

Shaking and panting from your rage and exertion, you lowered your gun, looking around at the horrified townsfolk as they struggled to get away from you or patch their own wounds. Wounds you had inflicted.

Before the weight of what you had done could really sink in, you quickly turned and, using the extra adrenaline in your system, you gathered Vash as best as you could, supporting him and trying to be careful as you minded his wounds, lifting him enough to get him at least off the ground.

As you lifted him, Vash groaned, his eyes fluttering open weakly and looking around. Once his gaze settled on you, his eyes widened and a look of worry and fear crossed his face.

"(Y/N)? Why are you crying? Are you okay?"

You didn't even realize you had begun to cry, nor did you have energy to answer him, trying hard to block out the cries of the wounded townsfolk. As Vash began to take in the scene and connect the pieces, all you could do was readjust your hold on him and sniffle out before beginning to walk.

"Come on. I gotta get you somewhere safe."

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

This wasn't at all what you had expected to happen.

You knew that whatever solution Wolfwood had been drinking from those glass vials of him had to have some kind of consequence, but for Wolfwood's body to fail him in healing in the middle of a fight? It wasn't how you expected it to happen at all.

"Damn!"

You heard Wolfwood exclaim as he leaned back against a wall, ducking from the bullets being shot at you and him by the police, slumping down to the ground. He was panting heavily and you could see the dark blood seeping through the bullet wounds to his torso. He had already chugged a vial, but nothing had happened. Your eyes widened in fear.

"Wolfwood-"

"Yeah, I know, sweetheart!" He cut you off almost immediately, his tone sharp, "I don't need you to say anything!"

You flinched slightly, feeling the fear building up in you as you watched the blood patches growing bigger and bigger, and watching the light in Wolfwood's eyes get dimmer and dimmer. Then-

"(Y/N)!"

Wolfwood never used your real name unless it was a serious situation or a warning. This cry of your name was filled with panic.

"Hands above your head, or we'll shoot you both!"

You felt a gun barrel press up against the back of your head, and you slowly put your hands up as the officer had demanded. You watched as another three or four officers with weapons ran up, one of them snickering at Wolfwood's state.

"Not so brave now, are you?" The officer laughed, before proceeding to pistol-whip Wolfwood across the face.

All you heard was the impact of the pistol against Wolfwood's cheekbone before your vision went red.

"Nicholas!"

Before you could register your emotions, the officer holding the gun to your head was screaming in pain as you got his arm locked in your grasp and quickly jerked it in a way that the gun dropped from his grip and he clutched his arm in agony.

The officers around glanced over at you only in time for you to strike them hard enough to break noses and jaws, to give black eyes and drop them to the ground before they had time to comprehend the threat you posed to them. Within a few moments, the guards were unconscious or groaning on the ground, their guns out of reach and no longer a risk to you or to Nicholas.

When you came back to your senses, you were panting frantically and your arms were aching from the level of force you used. You glanced down at your hands and faintly registered that your knuckles were bruised and bleeding, some gashes now on your hands from dealing blows. Shakily, you looked back up at Nicholas, who was just looking at you with wide eyes.

"W-What?" You asked, your voice trembling as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Nothing," Nicholas replied, a small grin appearing on his lips as he tried to stand, "You're just scary when you're ragin', doll. Didn't know you could do that. Thanks for defending me."

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 10 (MBJx Black OC)

A/N: sooooo this is just nonstop angst. Hence the gif selection and I am sorry lol we get into some tough shit. So warnings include: severe depression and negative self talk, harassment, etc. But as always enjoy! And remember… I’m a HEA girlie through and through ☺️

Hell on Earth was the only appropriate descriptor for the last 24 hours of Raven’s life. Trapped in her apartment due to the spectacle of paparazzi camped outside her building, her only activity was laying in bed unmoving hour after hour in the fetal position. She was grateful to Melody for taking her shift, she did not know if she would have been able to find the strength to get up to go anyway.

Raven tried her best to avoid social media but laying in her bed staring at the ceiling did not provide much distraction from the agony that coursed through her. This hurt eclipsed any pain from a physical wound that she had ever felt. It was paralyzing. And scrolling, even if she had to wade through stories and commentary on her own life as if she were a fictional character from the world’s latest Netflix obsession, offered some reprieve from thinking about him.

He consumed her every thought despite wanting nothing more than to rid her brain of him. But his claws were in too deep and even blocking his number had not offered relief when the only thing she wanted was to seek comfort from him. Her heart ached for him as if it would never be right again without his presence, his touch. But her brain would not allow her to call him or even unblock him. He was the curse, the disease… she certainly would find no cure in him.

The negative orator in her head called him a liar, reminded her that she did not deserve him and he knew it, which was why this all happened in the first place. So she stayed in her small ball in the corner of her bed fighting the urge to call him or break down into sobs again.

Her roommate checked on her every couple of hours and that was the sum of her human interaction since she left Michael’s house. She did not want to see or talk to anyone. So she didn’t. Her phone remained on DND, every call and text going unanswered. She knew she only had a few more days of this. The library had taken her off the schedule for a week, citing a need to figure out how to deal with the safety concerns this situation brought. But Raven knew the truth, the only available solution would be to let her go. Another job down the drain because of her terrible choices, because the only setting she seemed to know was self destruction.

That was all she knew how to do it… ruin her own life and the lives of everyone around her. She did not even speak to her family anymore and still knew, from her sister’s nonstop texts and calls that she didn’t respond to or answer, that even they were feeling the burn of her choices. Of course, Kiara was not wasting the opportunity to snag herself another 15 minutes of fame but she did not say anything worse than what Raven had already seen from strangers or did not already believe about herself.

Tears sprang to her eyes as thought about her own role in every bad turn and mistake her life had taken that led to this moment. She could blame Michael and her family but perhaps it was finally time to own that they were all right: it was her. She was the problem.

She chose to sell her body, even when she was in college as a dancer, to make a quick buck. She chose to do the same as an adult, she chose to enter into Michael’s ring of lies and she let him play as the fool. She could hate him but that meant she would also have to hate herself.

And acknowledging her hate for him was far less excruciating than examining how she brought this collapsing building right down on herself.

***

“What happened?”

“Damn, nigga. Can I get through the front door first or get a hello?”

Michael let out an impatient sigh and shifted out of the way so Alex could walk into his foyer. He had been a nervous wreck since she called an hour prior asking if she could swing by the house to talk. He had deleted social media from his phone so he did not have to see the vitriol being hurled at Raven. He did not care what people said about him but Alex literally had to stand over his shoulder and watch him delete every app to stop him from responding to every disgusting comment he read about her.

While his plan may have worked in popular media outlets and with sensible people online, he severely underestimated the contingent of very loud incels and pick-mes who would blame Raven regardless of how the story was presented to them.

“My bad. Hey. What happened?” he asked again, his tone signaling that he was not in the mood for Alex’s signature attitude. He needed answers and he needed them now. He would have time for pleasantries again and everything else when Raven forgave him. Or even just answered his phone calls and texts.

Michael gestured for Alex to follow him to the kitchen where he had been helping his mom and dad cook dinner. Or rather helping in between wearing a hole in his floor due to his incessant pacing and complaining about when Alex would arrive.

“I”m not gonna show you unless you calm the fuck down.” One side glance from his mother had Alex cringing at herself. “Sorry, Ms. Donna.”

The older woman merely nodded as she returned to her task of chopping vegetables.

“Well, I’ll start with the good news. I checked in on all your endorsements and deals and they said as long as this situation doesn’t evolve any further, they have no interest in dropping you. People still love you for some reason. And it’s been a week, so if old… partners were going to come out, they would’ve. All our Creed 3 press is still set but I had to do some rearranging now that the Oscars are set for the second weekend in March. So you’re going to Mexico City this weekend to get a head start. And we still have your interview slate for the Oscars set. You’re in for a busy six weeks… I know what’s going on with Raven is a lot but I need your head in the game, Mike. Seriously.”

“Alex! I don’t give a fuck about an interview schedule. What did you hear about Raven?”

“You know it’s literally my job to manage your career, not your continuously screwed up love life, right? Sometimes I worry you have it confused. But yes, I do have news on Raven too. Which is mostly… well all bad news. Most of the conversation has moved on. People are still attacking her on social but that’s not all that surprising. Vultures are still circling her apartment, not as many but a couple every day. Today was the first day she left the house in a week to go back to work. But… she got fired.”

Michael paused his pacing in shock. He knew how much that job, however she came to need it, meant to Raven. It had been a refuge during one of the most painful times in her life and his actions had stolen that from her.

“WHAT?”

Alex scoffed. “I told you our plan wouldn’t be without consequences, Mike. It just had the least amount of them. You can’t be surprised. She worked at a public library with kids and the entire world found out she was a prostitute. She was probably an at-will employee so they don’t even need a reason to fire her. But paparazzi surrounding her job every day and idiots calling to campaign to get her fired is more than enough for most places. But that’s not… that’s not the worst part.” Alex’s stiletto tipped nails tapped against her screen a few times before she tossed it down on the kitchen island. “A contact at TMZ sent me a video a couple hours ago. They aren’t gonna post it,” she assured him. “But there were plenty of cameras so someone else might. Just forwarded it to you.”

Michael moved quickly to open his email, his body equally wrestling between wanting to see whatever this was and being afraid to. But he knew he did not have a choice. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he pressed play on the video. The TMZ reporter had their camera trained on Raven as she tried to fight her way out of the back exit to her car in the parking lot. It was from earlier today, Michael realizing that she must have gone into her shift only to be let go. However, she was not simply fighting through a sea of flashing lights and insensitive questions. There was also a small group of men hurling insults at her as she fought through the crowd.

“I guess niggas really don’t be having jobs cause who has the time to post outside of someone else’s job to harass them?” Alex muttered to no one in particular as Michael’s attention and focus remained trained on the video.

The words of everyone else in the video were just static to him because his eyes and attention were squarely set on Raven. His soul felt as if it was splintering into millions of pieces as he watched her. Despite the meticulous makeup painted and her stoic poker face, Michael could still see the sorrow and exhaustion in her eyes. He had seen such a look in her eyes before and it hurt then, but now it was somehow worse. A fatal wound because this time, it was his fault. He would not need a video for that look to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He continued watching despite wanting nothing more than to get in his car and race to her apartment. The video was chaotic as the cameraman tried to keep up with the mob of cameras and people and keep the focus on the woman at the center of the storm. Michael did not understand what happened when Raven suddenly stopped moving, her poker face gone as one of pure terror took over.

Michael’s eyes frantically searched the frame of the video for what changed, even pausing it for a moment, until he noticed a hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm. He watched as she frantically pulled against the force of the person but their grip was too tight. And he could hear the whimper of pain in her words as she begged him to let her go.

The altercation did not last long when one of the cameramen was able to break the man’s grip on her and Raven scurried off to her car, her eyes brimming with tears.

Michael forced his phone to go to sleep as he squeezed it in his fist. Michael usually existed at an emotional equilibrium but his rage felt all consuming. Is this what seeing red felt like? When your anger was so blinding, you could not see or think of anything that did not fuel that fire? The entire internet had become Inspector gadget to find Raven’s job and address to harass her but would they do the same for that guy? Someone who tried to do her harm? Michael merely wanted five minutes alone with him to exercise all that rage at someone who deserved it.

He did not say a word as he marched past Alex and out of his kitchen to the foyer where he kept his car keys and wallet. He grabbed both and angrily stomped out to the garage, his thoughts set on nothing other than seeing Raven. Even if he was only able to lay his eyes on her for a moment, he needed to see her. In the flesh.

“Michael! Mike! Stop! Stop!!” Alex raced after him, quickly catching up with him despite her high heels. Her hand grabbed the door of his car before he could fully climb in. “Where are you going?”

“To Raven’s.”

Alex’s arm jerked the car door away from him as he tried to pull it closed. “You need to give her time. You’re probably not the nigga she wants to see at her door right now. And… there are still cameras around her house. You don’t need -”

“You think I give a fuck about someone seein’ me go there?? Get outta my fuckin’ way, Alex. Now.” His voice lost its usual kind tone as he glared at her, his barely contained rage seeping out into the garage around them like thick smoke.

Alex’s grip loosened but she did not acquiesce fully. “At least let me come with you.”

Their standoff continued for mere seconds before he caved and gave her a few moments to get into the passenger’s seat. If allowing her to go with him was the only way to see his girl then he would let her ride along. But she would not be able to stop him from doing a damn thing, he knew that much.

They did not speak as he raced through LA to get to Raven’s apartment. He did not wait for Alex to get out or say anything as he walked into her building and made a beeline for the elevator. Before he knew it, he was banging on her door like the police had shown up.

“Ok calm down, we don’t need the whole damn floor filming this for that damn clock app,” Alex grumbled, Michael essentially ignoring her as he continued banging until the door flung open.

Her roommate stood there, a confused look on her face for a moment, before she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Raven’s closed door.

“I need to see her.”

“I don’t think she’s up for visitors,” the young woman responded, her tone leaving little room for arguments. She tried to close the door but Michael stuck his foot in the doorway and stopped her.

“She doesn’t have to talk to me but I need to see her. Let me in.” Michael knew he had no right to demand entry into someone else’s home but he was at a loss, his hands were tied.

“What he means to say,” Alex stepped forward, pulling Michael back slightly, “is that he just wants to see she is ok after today with his own eyes. And then we’ll leave, I promise. Two minutes, that’s all we want. Please?”

“I’m not gonna force her to see you. You can wait here while I ask.”

She left them at the doorway to show themselves inside as she went to knock on Raven’s door.

“Raven? Can you come out here?”

He heard shuffling from behind her closed door before it cracked open. He could not see her but he could hear her voice, small and broken. A sound he never wanted to hear again. He was supposed to be the solution to her pain, not the cause of it.

“I d-don’t want to see him.”

“I just need a minute, Rae!” Michael did not wait for the invitation as he walked up to her door and gestured for her roommate to move out of his way. “Just let me see you… please.”

Raven leaned her head against the door frame as she debated whether to comply. Something in her demanded that she slam the door in his face. But her first on her doorknob merely shook as if she could not force herself to do it, her limbs refusing to obey her brain’s orders. She did not want to see him.

Whatever bandage she was using to stop the bleeding of this wound was immediately ripped off and her hurt flowed once again like blood at his mere presence. She could not even look at him, or rather was afraid to. Afraid that if she looked into those eyes, she would believe whatever sad tale of love and care he brought to spin for her this time. She could not fall for that again. With him or anyone else. And yet, her body still wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, bury her nose into the nape of his neck and breathe in him. His signature cologne, his natural musk that had grown to represent a sanctuary for her.

She forced herself behind the ice walls she had spent a week building. She was too weak to survive without them. Those barriers and their harshness were the only thing that had dragged her out of bed to go to her shift, which lasted a total of an hour before she was fired. She was not surprised but preparation had not made it an easier experience. She had been proud of herself for holding it together, walking out with her head held high. That is, until the utter debacle outside the library.

Michael had always been the one who the barriers came down for. But now, his presence made them grow higher and higher as if to protect David from Goliath.

She stepped back and opened the door just enough for her face to be seen. She did not look at him though, keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind him.

“What? The paparazzi videos aren’t enough? Need to see your destruction in person? There, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Her voice was cold, colder than he ever knew her to be toward anyone much less him. It was being stabbed in the chest and having the knife twisted for effect. Made all the worse by the fact that she could not even look him in the eye.

“Rae… baby girl, please. I just want to make sure you are alright after today… between the library and that guy. Just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

A mere week ago, Raven would have melted like a childish lovesick school girl at “baby girl,” at his care and devotion to her. But today, her heart had to remain cold for her own preservation, safely tucked behind the ice walls she erected.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that. And it’s not the first job I’ve lost, I’ll survive. Whether or not I’m hurt or employed shouldn’t matter to you. You made it clear you don’t care.”

“It does matter to me. You matter to me. Did he hurt you?”

“Bruises heal… This one will too. It’s the other wounds I’m not sure about,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “You want me to read you some of my DMs? Compared to what they all say they want to do to me, I got off easy with a bruise. So now you know. I don’t want to repeat myself again. Get. Out.”

“I’ll do anything, Rae. Just talk to me, hear me out. I didn’t mean for this o-or any of this to happen like this. Let me fix this. Or at least let me protect you.”

She shook her head, refusing to listen to a word he had to say. In one ear and out the other. It was all lies. “No. You can’t fix this. I don’t want your words, your lies, your apologies, or your protection. I don’t want anything from you ever again. You wanted me out of your life just like everyone else I know so you got your wish. Come back here again and I’ll call the police.”

And with that, she slammed her door in his face, leaving him standing awkwardly in the living room with Alex and her roommate. He simply stood there like a statue, mouth agape with his apologies on the tip of his tongue, staring at her closed door for a few moments.

“You heard her. You should go.”

With her roommate’s echo, Michael forced his legs to move. However, before he could get far, he stopped and grabbed a spare piece of paper and pen that was left discarded on their counter. He jotted down his number and pushed it into her hand.

“Tiffany, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I’ll give her space cause that’s what she wants. But anythin’ happens like today again, call me. Please.”

The young woman eyed him intently and stowed the paper away in her pocket before Michael walked out of the door with Alex in tow. As they stepped into the elevator of her building, Michael unleashed his pent-up frustration by punching a hole into the side of the elevator, an action that only caused a rippling pain to shoot up from his knuckles.

“Well that was decidedly stupid. You’re gonna have to get that looked at.” Alex shook her head. “She’s not ready yet, Mike. And for once, you’re not in control of how this goes. She needs time. Give it to her. But she’s ok today, that’s all that matters.”

Michael’s unbruised hand massaged his knuckles as they walked to his car. He sat in his seat silently for a few moments.

“You think she’s still in danger?”

“I think people on the internet often forget the people they’re attacking are real people. Most of this will stay online and be fine but we can’t predict the people who’ll do what that guy did today and take it to the real world. There’s just… no way of knowing.”

Michael sighed and nodded. “Get me a list of bodyguards. Vetted. She doesn’t want to see me, fine. But she’s gonna get protection whether she likes it or not.”

“You can’t force her to have a bodyguard.”

“You got me in Mexico City, Paris, London, New York, and Miami for the next month. You think I’m steppin’ on a damn plane with niggas tryin’ to attack her? Get me the fuckin’ list.”

“I know shit is fucked right now, Michael, but you can’t stop working just because your girlfriend is mad at you.”

“I don’t care about work right now, Alex!”

“Maybe you should! Maybe I shouldn’t be the only one holding your fucking career and reputation together while you spend all your energy making bad decision after fucking bad decision.”

Michael’s entire body whipped around to face the passenger seat, the anger he had pushed down beneath the surface already bubbling to the top. He was a powder keg and unfortunately, Alex was the spark.

“Oh so all of this is my fault?? Tasha fuckin-”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Stop blaming Tasha! She’s trash, she fuckin’ sucks and backed you into a corner but it’s not all on her, Mike! I’m not one of these fuckin’ yes men whose gonna shield you from accountability just to pad your fuckin’ giant actor ego. You fucked up, Michael. You. You could’ve ended it with Tasha as soon as you realized you were in love with Raven, but you didn’t. You strung her along because it was easier than admitting your feelings. You could’ve taken any of the millions of opportunities to admit what was going on to Raven like I told you and you didn’t. You wanted to play big man and stick it to Tasha instead of focusing on the person that actually mattered. And you didn’t want to admit that you were still talking to her. You didn’t leak this out of some purely noble intentions. This didn’t just happen to you. You caused this because as good of a guy as you are, you always do what is easiest for you instead of what is hard. So you and Tasha made this fucked up bed together. Own that shit and stop wallowing in it like a fucking bitch baby.”

His grip on the steering wheel was nearly painful as her harsh words sank in. And as difficult as they were to hear, as much as they clashed against the narrative he was clinging to, he knew they were not untrue. While it was far easier to lay the whole debacle at Tasha’s feet, he knew he was not blameless in what happened. But he had underestimated how torturous it would be to see the consequences of his own actions, how it would gnaw at him day in and day out. And the only way he was even surviving day to day was wrapping his brain tightly in the narrative that he did what was best. Without that protective blanket, he did not know if he could survive seeing the destruction he caused.

“Damn tell me how you really feel.” He banged his fist on the steering wheel a few times. “I just… I feel like I can’t do shit else till I fix this. Till she forgives me.”

Alex took a long deep breath before reaching over and squeezing his hand. “I know… but her forgiving you and you fixing the damage this all caused may not be the same thing. You don’t get to control when she forgives you and your life can’t stop until she does. If she does. Fix what you can, keep showing up where you can, and the rest is on her.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then she doesn’t. And that has to be ok too.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I’ll have the list of bodyguards for you by noon tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll get on that plane on Friday? And that your head will be focused on your career, not her. Give me six weeks Mike. Press tour, world premiere, Oscars and then you can chase after her like a lost puppy all you want.”

“Yea I promise. I know how hard you’ve worked for all this… ain’t gonna let you down, Alex.”

“I get paid either way. You earned this. Care more about not letting yourself down.”

And with that, Michael peeled off the curb of Raven’s apartment building and started their trek back to his home. The entire ride Alex’s words tumbled in his brain. He had been so focused on convincing Raven to forgive him when he did need to give her space, as excruciating as that was for him. But space did not mean he could not work to fix the very tangible things his decisions had ruined for her.

“Did you ever get that list of Black agents and publishers that rep fantasy novels?” he asked randomly as they pulled back into his spot in the garage.

“Yea, pulled it a while ago.”

Michael walked Alex to her car, which sat out in front of his house.

“Good. Any on the list you particularly like?”

“One of them’s a friend and if I’m being honest… She is the list.”

“Aight. Let’s game plan that on the plane ride after our interview prep”

Alex leaned against the hood of her car, smiling at him. She patted him on the arm and gave him a smile. “There’s the Michael B Jordan I attached my career to. Welcome back.”

He merely rolled his eyes and smiled. He was a man of action. He would wait a hundred years if that was how much time and space Raven needed. But her not wanting to see him did not mean he could not continue to be what he had always been for her: the first person who took care of her.

***

A knock at Raven’s door forced her out of bed. She had not made much effort to leave the comfort of her own bed since losing her job. She had been able to save up enough from her dates with Michael to save a decent safety net. She would have a couple months before she needed to think seriously about what was next and how to pay rent. She savored the cushion. Her thoughts were an utter mess so she certainly was not mentally strong enough to plan.

As she walked to her front door, her phone started vibrating.

Kiara

She had been avoiding her calls like she was the bubonic plague. She knew why she was calling. To gloat and rub salt in Raven’s wounds. She could almost hear the vitriol Kiara would throw at her without even answering the phone. So she didn’t. She did not care to. She decided to just wait her out, if she ignored her calls enough, she would eventually give up… right? After all, it had almost been two weeks.

Raven had not heard from her dad at all, which she did not know whether to be thankful for or add that to the list of wounds that would not close. Some small part of her would have hoped that, despite them not speaking since the holidays, that he would check in on her after all of this. But she had done all of them a favor when she cut them off. They wanted her out of their lives and she wanted them out of hers. She knew she should no longer care what either of them thought of her.

She sent her call straight to voicemail as she opened her door to find an extremely tall, brooding bald man with shades standing outside her door. He kind of reminded her of what a secret service agent in movies looked like.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Raven Turner?”

“Why do you want to know?” She kept the door knob in her hand in case she needed to push it closed. She thankfully had not had any crazies approaching her at home, small comfort. But perhaps, that was about to end.

“My name is David Brooks. I’ve been hired to be your bodyguard. May I come in?” Raven’s eyes grew wide as he tried to make a step over the threshold to her apartment. She immediately stepped into his path, using her body and the door as shields.

“You think I’m just gonna let you in cause you say you’re a bodyguard?? I didn’t hire a bodyguard. And I don’t need one. So you could be a serial killer with an elaborate ruse for all I know. Leave.”

“You should know that no serial killer would choose a ruse so specific. And apartments are a foolish place to murder someone, too many eye witnesses. And if I was here to harm you, I’d already be inside. Your door certainly would not stop me.”

“You know you are not really inspiring trust, right?”

“Apologies. It is just frustrating how obsessed the average American woman is about being murdered by a serial killer when statistically, it will never happen. But I digress. Just because you do not believe you do not need a bodyguard, does not mean you don’t.” He reached under his arm and handed her a neat folder of papers. “Resume, background check… much of which is redacted. Security reasons. And he said you would be a reluctant principal so I included the latest research and data on how cyber attacks and stalking can turn violent. Now have I inspired trust?”

Raven took the folder out of his hand and flipped through it quickly, her small stature still blocking his entrance to her home. Her eyes skimmed each page, which included everything about this man except his damn social security number. He seemed legit and even the parts that were not redacted in black highlighter seemed terrifying. But she did not budge from her protective stance in front of her home. She still did not understand.

“Who even hired you??” There was no one in her life that cared enough or could afford to hire her a bodyguard. Well no one except…

Fuck.

“Michael B. Jordan. Any other questions or may I come in so we can discuss your security? Do you do this often? Talk to people in your doorway? Because that will need to end immediately.” His eyes glanced up and down the hallway of her apartment.

Raven let out a deep exhale of frustration and stepped aside, allowing him in. Mainly because she did not want their standoff to continue in her hallway for one of her nosy neighbors to see.

“Don’t get comfortable… you won’t be staying.”

How dare he? She thought to herself. Why can’t he just leave me the fuck alone!

She angrily grabbed her phone off of the kitchen island where she had discarded it. She was too pissed off to feel many other emotions about hearing his voice as she unblocked Michael’s number and hit the call button. She had not spoken to him since he showed up at her apartment days prior.

Ice walls, ice walls, she told herself as she prepared to hear his voice. She forced herself not to read into the fact that it only rang once before his voice started to fill her ear.

“Rae! Lis-”

“Fire him,” she demanded, cutting him off. She had no desire to hear anything he had to say to her.

There was a still beat of silence before Michael’s voice filled her ears again, steaming with the dominance she once craved and yearned for.

“No.”

“I’m not kidding, Michael.”

“I ain’t laughing, Raven. You aren’t ready to talk to me, you aren’t ready to see me, fine. But I’m not gon’ let you fend off paparazzi and randoms alone. And I can’t be there. So he stays.”

Anger coiled in her belly causing her to immediately raise her voice. Every fiber in her being hated him.

“So he can report my every move back to you?? Fuck no. And fuck you. The only reason I would need protection is because of what you did. I’ll never be ready to talk to you and I want nothing from you.”

She could tell this was a losing battle but she fought regardless. She could not handle this shadow following her every second, a visual reminder of him and the fact that he cared about her. But everything in her told her that he didn’t care about her. His actions had made that abundantly clear. This was nothing more than a complex manipulation… like everything else he had done to her since the night they met.

“He’s not obligated to report anythin’ back to me, I promise. I’ve dealt with the paparazzi and crazy fans longer than you. It actually can be dangerous. And I’m traveling and doing all this press so it’s not gonna die off until I’m out of the spotlight in a few weeks. So until then, he stays.”

Raven forgot that Michael was officially on his giant world press tour for Creed 3. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, hear how it was going and how he felt. But she could not allow that either. She did not care about his career. She did not care about him anymore.

“I don’t need anymore help and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t want it from you.”

He let out a sigh that sounded almost… sad? Raven shook her head. She was not going to give in, waver, or break. He was one of the best actors of her generation and that was all this was: an act.

“I deserve that shit. I know it. But I’m not gonna apologize for carin’ about you even if you hate me.”

The back of her eyes stung at his words. She despised it, she did not want to feel this for him. He had destroyed her and she vowed never to let him close enough to do it again. Or anyone for that matter. But perhaps her resolve was not as steadfast as she desperately wanted to believe it was. Her heart may have been willing to hear him out again, but her stubborn brain refused to allow her to give in.

“I do… hate you,” she whispered, hating how clear her emotions were in her tone. Hearing his voice cracked something open inside her and all those walls were starting to crash around her.

“I know… but I’ll never stop, Rae. Never stop lovin’ you and carin’ about what happens to you. Hate me all you want but that’s it.”

She shook her head, even though she knew he could not see it.

Lies. It’s all lies. He doesn’t care. No one does. So stop kidding yourself.

The back of her hand quickly wiped away the few falling tears before she sniffled slightly and cleared her throat. She refused to give in. He did not love her, he did not care about her. That’s the only thing she knew was real. The rest was lies.

“You don’t care what happens to me,” she responded definatively. “No one does,” she repeated the menacing voice in her head that forced her insecurities and hard truths to the surface of her brain. “Hell… I don’t anymore.” Her voice trailed off slightly.

“Rae…” Whatever rebuttal he had started to form in his brain at her first statement faded away like a sandcastle swept in a tidal wave at her words. Did she really think that? Believe that no one in the world cared about her? Did she really no longer care about herself? Those words struck fear in his soul.

“Tell me how I can fix it, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do for you to forgive me.”

Her entire body sagged against the weight of her kitchen counter. She let the phone fall from her ear as a sob bubbled to the surface. She forgot about the GI Joe soldier who was standing in her living room awkwardly pretending as if he could not hear them.

“I-I don’t know if y-you can fix this, Michael. N-Not what you did b-but this exhaustion. I’m just… tired,” she wiped her eyes. “I’m tired o-of reaching out and getting swatted away… I’m tired of being disappointed b-by people. I’m t-tired of forgiving a-and piecing myself back together just to be pushed down and b-broken again. I-I h-have to f-find the fucking energy to pick up the p-pieces of my l-life y-yet again because I d-don’t… have any choice. B-But I d-don’t have enough… to do that a-and figure this out right now. I c-can’t think about forgiving you until I stop feeling…. this … exhausted.” Her words were barely audible as her emotions made her throat too tight to speak.

Another sob broke its way through before she forced her to clear her throat before she stood up straight. She could not do this, could not talk to him and let the door even crack. The wound still hurt too much.

“Goodbye, Michael.”

Raven hung up and blocked his contact once again. She glanced at her new shadow, who now turned his attention back to her.

“I can’t do this right now. I’m not leaving the house today so come back tomorrow and we can talk.” She did not wait for him to agree. “Get out.”

He seemed wholly unperturbed by her rudeness, she was clearly not his first “reluctant principal.” He merely nodded and walked to her front door, leaving the folder and his card with his cell phone number with her.

Raven marched into her bedroom and slammed her door shut, the chorus of sobs she was holding in finally breaking from the surface. Two weeks, only two weeks had passed and she just did not want to feel this anymore. This destruction. The wreckage of her life simply felt too great to rebuild. And there did not seem to be any light at the end of this particular tunnel.

***

The days marched by at a slow pace as Raven tried to do what she told Michael: pick up the pieces to her life. Her day to day now included her own personal GI Joe who followed her everywhere she went. And drove her everywhere she went. Which, admittedly, was not that many places. She did not have a job and she had few friends in LA so she spent most of her time in her apartment, occasionally venturing out for necessities. She imagined she was the easiest and most boring person David had ever protected.

Though they had gotten off to a rocky start, Raven had to admit that she felt safer when she did leave her home with him by her side. And he was not overbearing or bothersome. He had a few rules, which were easy enough for her to follow. And he promised that he would not report her every move back to Michael. She was not sure if she believed him fully but he seemed sincere enough.

She still thought about him, a ghost haunting her every passing thought. Thoughts that were only amplified as pictures and clips from his press tour went viral all over social media. She had tried her hardest to avoid them but sometimes she found her eyes lingering on a reel or tik tok featuring him. She never quite listened to what he was actually saying, she merely just studied him. The way he laughed with his entire body, the spark in his eyes as he talked about his craft and his passion.

He seemed happy… without her, a realization that always made her close whatever video it was and want to curl back up in her bed.

She did not want to miss him, she did not want to still be in love with him. But she still felt everything, all of that love and every ounce of the hurt.

An unknown number covered Michael’s face in the video she was silently watching. Unknown numbers were a mixed bag these days but something in her told her to answer it. It was an LA number, if that made her feel any better about it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak with Raven Turner?”

“This is she.”

“Hi Ms. Turner. My name is Angelina Smith, I’m the founder of The Spark Agency. We rep Black authors across fiction from contemporary to fantasy and sci/fi. I’ve been looking for new talent and a friend of mine passed along your name to me. You have a few minutes to chat?”

Raven’s eyes grew wide. She did not need to race to google to know who Angelina Smith and the Spark Agency were. They were the first, and one of the only, major Black-owned literary agencies and one of the only that almost exclusively repped Black and Brown authors. She had queried damn near every agent there when she first finished her manuscript but none of it worked out.

“Wait… you’re THE Angelina Smith?? If this is an elaborate prank…” Raven muttered, her brain already forcing her to temper her hopes and dreams. It would not surprise her if this was some insane tik tok prank or ruse to humiliate her. A month ago, she would have never considered that but now? She did not put much past people anymore.

She laughed. “No, I promise this is not a prank. I read your book… you’re incredibly talented. I work closely with Del Rey, Penguin House’s fantasy imprint, and I think your book and series would be perfect for them.”

“Seriously??”

“Yes. Could you come down to my office one day this week? Maybe tomorrow? You’re based here in LA too, right? We can also do something virtual if you’re not in town though. I would love to just chat about your vision for the series and see if we could be a good fit? And if it is, start to discuss all the business stuff. My least favorite part, to be honest,” she chuckled. “Can you give me your email?”

Raven rattled off her email quickly, still shocked and confused as to what was even happening right now.

“Ok great, my assistant will send you a calendar invitation and information. I have to jump but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Talk tomorrow.”

And with that, the call ended, leaving Raven with extreme whiplash as she tried to process what even just happened. She let out a breathy chuckle as she wondered if her life was about to turn around for the better. She did wonder how she even found her book, published under a pseudonym so it would not have been that easy to find. And she had basically been told her career in publishing was dead without hope of resuscitation so why would one of the most successful Black agents in publishing even want to waste their time on her?

A war raged as she tried to decide if this was really real. But a ding of her email let her know that it was legit. She studied every aspect of the email from email addresses to signatures, using LinkedIn and other investigative searches to verify her assistant’s existence as a person and everything checked out. If this was a ruse, it was the most elaborate one she had ever seen. It seemed… legit?

The smallest sprout of hope bloomed in her belly at the thought. Perhaps her life was not completely and totally destroyed. Well it was, but for the first time in a month, she did not see only despair ahead. She saw a path to build something new out of it.

***

“Raven! Angelina,” the tall, lean, and insanely gorgeous woman glided to her office door to greet Raven like she was floating on the air instead of walking in her incredibly high Louboutins. She held out her hand, Raven shaking it enthusiastically. “It is so great to meet you.”

“It is great to meet you too. And sorry,” she wiped her sweaty palm against her dress. “Kinda nervous.”

Angelica waved her hand dismissively. “No need to be nervous. I’ll be honest, I truly rarely say this but I’m already sold on you… just gotta sell you on me,” she winked.

“You’re the first agent to show interest in my work in years… and not to sound like a complete fan, you’re every author’s dream. Hardly need to sell me on you or your agency.”

“I know a diamond when I see one,” she shrugged. “Please sit,” she gestured toward the comfy white couch in her corner office, each woman sitting on each side.

“Not sure about a diamond,” Raven muttered. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she chewed on her lip. This was her dream but all night she had grappled with one thing, one thing that would kill their working relationship before it even began. Her reputation.

“I am so appreciative of this… And honestly, just knowing that someone of your caliber sees the value of my work would be enough. I mean you are amazing a-and your agency has repped some of my favorite authors. And this is such an honor.”

“How do I already sense a but coming?”

Raven smiled sadly. “But I don’t want you to waste your time. I doubt any publisher’s gonna want my name attached to them.”

Angelina stood up and walked over to a small table, pouring two glasses of brown liquor from a decanter she had sitting there. She returned to her perch on the couch, handing Raven one of the glasses.

“Do you think I would personally reach out to you without asking around about you? Without doing a google search? You don’t get to be me without doing your due diligence and I do mine. I know everything ‘your name’ comes with and I still called you. I won’t presume to know everything but I heard enough to know that what your last publisher did to you was not on you or right. Publishers can preach about caring about marginalized voices all they want but it’s still hard to be a woman, a black woman, in our industry. So when a phenomenal black writer gets labeled difficult? I… know what that means. And as for your situation now… well, I like an author with an interesting story,” she shrugged, though interesting was not the word Raven would have used to describe her own story. “But since you think I need convincing about you, let me ask you this… why did you want to be a writer? And why fantasy?”

Raven’s hands anxiously twisted in her lap as she thought about it. “A lot of reasons but mainly… all books are windows… a peek behind the curtain into another life, another time, another reality. But for me, fantasy books were always more? They were doors, a real escape into another world where life was limitless and the powerless underdog could be more. That you could fall but there’s always a reason to pick yourself back up and try again until you don’t fall anymore. And when I wrote my first short story, I realized they were also mirrors, a chance to examine yourself and your own life…” Raven’s hand picked up the hardback copy of her book that sat between the two women. “And heal wounds. Or at least start the process. And when I was old enough, I just realized I didn’t want to just be escaping into someone else’s world. I wanted to escape into one of my own creation too.”

Angelina smiled and nodded. “And that’s what all the due diligence in the world can’t tell me but the only thing I really need to know. I don’t care about anything other than whether this is your passion. And whether you are good at it. Check those boxes and I can work magic with anything, trust me. And as for your concern about publishers, I will admit that I may have been a bit overzealous but I already put feelers out and have three publishers, including Del Rey, who want to meet with you. Your old publishing house even reached out but I didn’t respond. My first response was to tell them to fuck off but wanted to check with you first.”

“Fuck off is pretty polite for what I want to say to them,” Raven muttered under her breath.

“Then fuck off it is.” The two women shared a knowing smile before Angelina continued.

The rest of the meeting was a dream, Raven forgot how amazing this all felt. Even the mundane legal stuff sparked an excitement she had not felt in such a long time. And now she had three meetings on the books to shop her book and an agent again, a book she thought she was not going to be able to do anything with ever again.

“Ok, I think that’s all I need for today. One thing, they’re gonna want book 2 fairly quickly. Any deal we get will include a reprint of this one but they’re all gonna want a first draft as soon as you can get one. Maybe let’s check in again on your progress on March 15? Gives you about a month.”

Raven grimaced on the inside. She had half of her second book done years ago and the doc sat unfinished and untouched ever since she lost her deal. Even with this surge of hope and new energy, she did not know if her creative juices were even still there. However, she did not voice any of those concerns to Angelina. How could she tell this badass woman that she was putting her name on the line for her and Raven did not even know if she could write anymore?

“Sounds good. I can do that,” she lied.

Or at least, we can try… and pray.

“Ok great. Jason will be bombarding your email over the next week with invites and such but I think we’re in good shape. We’ll send over my contract. If you have a lawyer, have them look it over. It’s standard in my opinion but I encourage all my authors to read it with a fine tooth comb and send back notes. It was great meeting you, Raven. I look forward to working with you.”

They shook hands once more before Raven stood to walk out of her office. However, at her door, Raven paused and turned around.

“I’m sorry… Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“How did you… find my book? I wasn’t querying or anything. It’s not even sold in stores anymore.”

“Oh, a good friend of mine passed a copy along. Said you had gotten the rights back recently and thought I might be interested. One thing I’ve learned is to never doubt Alexandra Williams. She knows how to spot rare talent and she was right, per usual. It’s infuriating really,” the woman laughed.

Raven used her hand on the doorknob to steady herself as her words hit her. She supposed she should not have been shocked but she was. A million questions ran through her brain. Why had he done that? What did he hope to get out of it? Was this another manipulation or a sign that he truly loved and cared about her? That he really wanted to fix all of this?

“Sorry… I may have wrongly assumed she or Michael told you I was gonna reach out.”

Raven realized that her internal monologue was clearly showing across her face. She quickly shook her head and replaced her perplexed look with a fake smile. “No, no. Don’t apologize. They probably wanted it to be a surprise. Thank you… again.”

“Thank me when we get you a deal,” she winked at her before giving her a wave.

Raven nodded and saw herself out, realizing that now… she actually had to do something. No more wallowing in bed and watching sad movies. Her life was back in motion and if she did not pick up her feet to keep up, she would ruin this second chance too.

She shot David a quick text asking him to pull around to pick her up. She had a book to write.

***

Michael was pitfully scrolling through his camera roll as Tessa came up behind him and slid into the open seat next to Alex on their jet. Tessa had been a bright spot on this press tour, keeping him engaged and laughing as much as she could. He was grateful. However, when he was alone or in spaces like this with no cameras, the melancholy always settled back in and he found himself seeking out Raven. Now that was simply a text that went unanswered, a wall of blue messages on his end. However, they did go through… which was an improvement.

Since he could not see her, he resorted to scrolling back through his phone and studying every photo or video they took together. His favorites were their trip to Paris. He looked at those pictures and videos more and longer than he should have, made all the more painful by the fact that he was on his way there before heading to London. He had hoped she would be beside him on this particular stop of his press tour, and had hoped she would get to experience Paris again with him.

But this time, the most romantic city in the world would merely feel like a cruel joke. When he examined her in those photos, each one resurfacing memories that he clung to like a buoy in the open ocean, they only made him fall deeper in love with her. It was as if he could see their love story play out in front of his eyes. And he always went back to Paris because it was such a clear turning point for them, the moment everything changed and they started to fall. The descent had been beautiful and he had savored every moment of it. He could see the love she held for him etched in her eyes, the longing that he had doubted was real back then. But now, it was all he could see… all he could focus on.

“Stare at your phone any harder and it might burst into flames,” Tessa joked as she sat down across from him.

Michael chuckled and tossed his phone down in the empty seat next to him, slumping back pitifully.

“My bad. Just…”

“Miss her?”

“Yea. Doubt she misses me though.” He mused, thinking back to their last two conversations, neither of which went well.

When he had made his choice, there had not been a world where he thought he would not be able to mend whatever it damaged between them. Conceited and cocky? He could own that now but his ego often was outsized. But now, he questioned whether there was a path forward for them at all? If he had done too much damage? Every night when he laid down for a precious few hours of sleep, her words tumbled and tossed in his brain matter. He had never heard her sound so… depleted as she was during their last phone call. He was trying, as much as he could from afar, but he did not know if it would ever be enough.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that. I only met her once but that woman is just as in love with you as you are with her. Those feelings just don’t disappear because she’s upset. Give her -”

“Time. I know,” he muttered angrily. “Just don’t know if there’s enough time to fix how I fucked this up, Tess. She said she’s too tired to forgive me. And the crazy thing is, I can’t even be mad at that. If I had her life, I would be fuckin’ tired too. I just wish she would let me talk to her, you know? Explain or something.”

Tessa reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know but you’re doing what you can. Show her that you care about her and maybe that’ll soften her up enough for a conversation later.”

“And,” Alex interjected. “If it at all gets you out of this relentlessly annoying funk, Angelina texted and said she and Raven had a great meeting yesterday. So one thing’s working out.”

“See?” Tessa, forever an optimist, smiled widely. “Progress. Keep showing up for her.” Tessa leaned back and studied him for a moment, her eyes filled with introspection that made Michael sit up a bit straighter.

“What’s that look for?”

“No, just… I’ve known you for a decade and I just have never seen you like this before.”

“What? Acting like a bitch?” he grumbled, tossing Alex a side eye that she only rolled her own eyes yet.

“No. This serious… this mature… vulnerable. It’s a new side of you that I’ve never seen and the whole world sees it too. It’s really nice and refreshing.”

“Yea, well it’s all her.”

“Does she know that?”

But before he could ask her what she meant, Tessa’s agent called her over to discuss something, leaving Michael alone to ponder his own thoughts.

***

Almost two weeks went by and the document on Raven’s computer remained unchanged. She stared at the screen for hours a day, willing the prose of her novel to leap out of her brain and onto the page but nothing. She reread the words she wrote years ago and none of it even sounded good to her anymore but she did not know how to fix it. Her backspace button saw more love than any other key on her keyboard. Hour after hour marched on and she had nothing to give. Her characters did not even seem to live in her head anymore. When she tried to tap into their thoughts, their lives, and intentions… all she heard was silence from them and the loud roaring of her own problems. They were still there but it was as if they were miles and miles away with too many barriers for her to access them. And if she could not access them, she could not write an authentic story that a publisher would ever want or readers deserved.

Had she gotten a second chance only to realize there was no point? How could she turn a draft around in a quickly dwindling time frame when she had not written a single thing?

And she could not even blame her writer’s block on anyone. It was all her, her brain and insecurities reeking havoc on her ability to do something that had once been as second nature as breathing. And all her thoughts, of course, just charted a path back to him. Always.

She knew Michael arranging that meeting had been an olive branch, his attempt at fixing things between them. And while part of her was grateful, another part was frustrated that the only reason she was getting her shot back at being an author was because of his connections. Hell, she would still be trapped with her own publisher if it was not for him. Did she want her future success and career to be built on his support? Something about it felt… wrong. Like accepting it was forgiveness she was not ready to offer him yet.

She slammed her computer shut in frustration, an unanswered email from Angelina getting an update on her draft. It would just have to stay on read, Raven decided as she sulked in bed. This was her least favorite part of the day… when she gave up trying to force words to appear on the page and curled back into her spot in bed. That’s when all the negative thoughts caught up with her the most and she had no distractions to help her, tormenting and taunting her with how much she did not deserve him. Or anything good in her life.

Even with this new book deal, she was bound to ruin it at some point right? That was all she knew how to do. The sun was starting to set, dimming the light in her room. Sitting there, without her job, students or Michael to distract her, made it that much harder the fact that all roads led back to one central problem: her. And that was not something Michael could fix. Hell, she did not even know how to fix that. Was she even fixable? Or would she just continue to destroy everything in her life forever?

She was about to get up and force herself to watch tv as a distraction when her phone rang.

Kiara

Raven perhaps foolishly thought her sister would simply give up. She could not even count how many times she sent her calls to voicemail but that did not deter her. Kiara demanded that she be given her moment to revel and gloat. Despite wanting nothing to do with or hear a thing from Kiara, Raven knew she was merely kicking an inevitable can down the road. She was a dog with a bone and she would never stop until Raven gave her the attention she demanded.

Perhaps Raven really was a masochist because despite how low she was already feeling, she decided today was the day to stop punting her sister and just get the beating over with.

“Oh so you finally decide to answer my fucking calls? Weeks later?”

“We made it pretty clear where we stood at Thanksgiving. I just knew you wouldn’t stop calling so… say what you wanna say so we can all move on?” Raven could not keep the exasperation out of her voice. She did not need a big speech or lead up. Let’s just get right to the point.

“Not talking all that big shit now, huh? You know… I always knew you weren’t shit but prostitution? Findin’ new ways to embarrass dad and I every day, huh?”

“Yep, so what do you want me to say, Kiara?”

“Just wondering if you’re finally ready to admit what I’ve always known?”

Raven’s eyes clenched shut. “And what’s that?”

“That you were the biggest mistake mama ever made. All you’ve ever done is ruin my life from the minute you were born. Daddy is fuckin’ disgusted with you. You thought you could snag a big nigga like Michael but he just realized what I already knew. You don’t deserve shit, let alone him. Who knows, maybe I’ll give him a call. He’s havin’ his big movie premiere tonight, finally dumped his dead weight. Maybe we can see how he does with a real woman, not a fuckin’ slut.”

Raven’s head thudded against her headboard lightly as a few stray tears fell. She wiped them away and cleared her throat, forcing the words out of her throat. She was broken but she refused to break down in front of Kiara of all people.

“Fine. You’re right,” her voice filled with such sorrow and resignation that Raven almost did not recognize herself. “Satisfied?”

There was a pause as if Kiara was surprised at her response. But that’s what she had wanted, right? To hear Raven humble herself, admit that she was every horrible thing Kiara, her dad, and now the whole world thought she was.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” she repeated out loud. “That you’re right and I’m the villain and all your hate and vitriol toward me for my entire life is justified? Well, you’re right. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself and I deserve all of it. You are right. So congrats. You won. Oh and if you want Michael, you can have him. I’ll send you his number.” Raven did not even bother waiting for Kiara to speak before she hung up and threw her phone down.

Her head fell into her knees as sobs raked through her body, she did not even know her body could produce anymore tears. How had she not dried herself out? That last statement was an utter and complete falsehood. She did not want Michael anymore, or rather, she simply convinced herself she should not want him anymore. Her body still yearned for him like an addict searching for their next fix. But it would be a cold day in hell before she served him on a gilded platter to her sister of all people. And even though she hated him more than anyone in this world, she knew that was not his way.

But everything else? She meant every word. She hated herself and her life. And it was overwhelmingly excruciating to feel 30 years of hatred flood her brain all at once.

“Fuck! Enough of this,” she muttered. She could not sit there, lay around ruminating in her pain and suffering all night. Especially not when Kiara had just reminded her that Michael was having one of the biggest night’s of his career, a night she had once been so excited to experience by his side.

She needed to forget. Forget him, forget her pain… forget all of it.

She went into her closet and pulled out a bodysuit and jeans. She threw on makeup as quickly as she could, freshened up her hair and texted David that she wanted to go out. He was still sitting in his car outside watching her building, as he would until she went to sleep. But tonight, she did not plan on going to sleep anytime soon, she needed release.

And release is exactly what she would find as she made David drive around until she spotted a hole-in-the-wall bar downtown. It was old and grimy and the perfect escape. There were no lying millionaires to be found in a place like this, just regular men who would think nothing of fucking Raven in the bathroom or the back of their car or wherever her drunk mind encouraged them to go.

“Hey, welcome to the Griffin,” the bartender offered as Raven sat down at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Hey… ummm can I just have tequila with pineapple juice? Double. And just keep ‘em coming.” She handed him her credit card to start what she knew would be a regrettably large tab in the morning. But she could not have hoped to care.

He merely nodded in agreement before quickly mixing her simple but effective poison of choice. She damn near drank it like a shot, throwing it back before signaling him to make her another. And with every disgusting bottom shelf sip of tequila she took, she felt it. Release.

***

“Congrats, baby. The movie was amazing,” Michael’s mother kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, ma.”

There was a certain sorrow in his voice that he found hard to hide now that he had returned home from his Creed 3 World Premiere. Two weeks of traveling non-stop and he was finally home. Only home simply reminded him of one person now. Raven. It was the biggest night of his career and he spent the entire night wishing she was by his side, musing on what she would think of specific scenes or the movie overall. Her opinion was the only one he found himself even caring about. The insane pace of his press tour had taken his mind off Raven to a degree. But being back in LA for a few weeks head of the world premiere and the Oscars pushed all those thoughts front and center again.

And it was clear to every person around him, which is why his cast and team did not press him when he declined attending the after party he was hosting and paid for.

“I know it’s hard without her, baby. But celebrate the moment, your moment. If she’s meant to be yours, she’ll come back around.”

His mother squeezed his hand before following his father up the stairs to their bedroom. Michael sighed and nodded. That’s what he kept telling himself this entire time but it was not working anymore. He just wanted to hear her voice, even if all she wanted to do was yell at him. He could take it, handle it. It was the silence that was harrowing, that felt too heart-wrenching to contend with.

This press tour had proven one thing to him - Raven had unlocked a side of him that he had never had before. This was his most open and genuine, most real moments he had offered the public. And people noticed, noticed that he was different, more serious, vulnerable, and open about himself, his work, and his craft. Raven had brought all that out in him. And he wanted her by his side to revel in it with him. He wanted people to know that it was her who caused that, who split him open and made him stop hiding.

His phone rang, Michael’s heart nearly stopping as David’s name slid across his screen. The man had never actively reached out to Michael since his first day guarding Raven. Though Michael paid for his services, he made it clear that he did not want reports unless they were threats to Raven’s safety, physical or otherwise. And so, he had taken David’s silence for what it was: a sign that Raven was safe. And that was all he could ask for. But the man reaching out to him foretold bad news, he knew that much.

“She alright??” Michael asked immediately, his feet already moving toward his keys to get in his car.

“Depends on your definition. We’re at a bar downtown and she’s… well, she’s been here for hours. It’s a dive bar so there aren’t many people here, no cameras. But she’s completely wasted. Like refusing to leave wasted. I told the bartender to cut her off after this drink bu-”

Michael loosened his bow tie and grabbed his keys. “Text me the address.”

“Already sent.”

Michael was not sure what to expect when he finally made it downtown and parked his car. He checked David’s text two or three times, shocked to believe a bar could exist in such a rundown building that did not look safe, much less occupying a functioning business. But David had sent the correct address, the faded, grungy and dilapidated sign of The Griffin hanging above the door.

Michael knew he looked out of place as he pushed his way inside, his body still donned in a perfectly tailored royal blue tuxedo. But thankfully, the bar was not crowded, just a few folks hanging around the bar and booths. But he only had eyes for one person like a moth to a flame, a young woman wildly dancing in the corner near the jukebox.

Despite the carefree smile on her face and swing in her hips, Michael could still see the dimmed spark in her eyes from across the dimly lit bar. He had not laid eyes on her in so long and just seeing her was like someone breathed new life into his body. The rough seas of his soul calmed, even just for a moment, before worry consumed him.

Was this normal for her since they broke up and stopped speaking? Getting completely drunk at dive bars? He could count on one had the number of times he had seen her tipsy, let alone drunk. But this was beyond anything he had ever witnessed with her but a scene he knew all too well with himself: someone trying to numb their pain with liquor and a good time. And it always worked, he knew, until the sun came up and the hangover set in and the pain rushed back tenfold. He chased that serene, weightless, painless feeling night after night for years. He had to learn the hard way that numbing the pain did not stop or heal it, it just made it hurt more later on when you finally confronted it. He refused to let someone as pure as Raven fall into the same trap he did.

He made his way across the bar, only stopping to speak to the bartender. “How many drinks she had?”

The bartender, a graying white man, glanced up from where he was wiping down the soiled bar. His eyes grew wide for a moment, clearly recognizing Michael, before he answered.

“Uhhh… I’m sure she lost track. The one in her hand is number 7. And her last. The guy with her told me to cut her off.”

Michael let out a low whistle and grimaced. There was not a world in which she didn’t feel that in the morning. He pulled out his credit card and slid it across the bar to the man. “Pay her tab with this for me, aight?”

“Yes sir. You’re my favorite villain in Marvel by the way…” he offered with an enthusiastic smile.

“‘Preciate you.” Michael walked over to where Raven was dancing and where David stood protectively by, the young woman still not even noticing him. More of the drink in her hand landed on the dirty floor of the bar than it did in her mouth when she tried to take another sip.

Michael rushed forward and skillfully slid it out of her grasp, Raven whipping around to find him behind her. Her smile immediately fell as she looked him up and down.

The drunk version of her wanted to be excited to see him but the sliver of her logical brain that remained reminded her that the only reason they were drinking was to forget him and the destruction he caused. How could she be so weak as to even care that he was there?

“W-what are you doing… here?” she slurred, her hand making a grab for her drink, which he held just out of her grasp.

“To take you home that’s what. You’ve had enough. Unless you wanna end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning?”

She merely shrugged as she continued to dance. “Can’t be any worse. I’m having… a good time. Unlike him,” She turned to David and smiled. “He’s sooooooooo uptight. You know… h-he doesn’t even smile. Like ever? And has a lot of thoughts… on serial killers, w-which is strange. Come on, David.” She called over to him from his stance in the corner, which gave him a full view of the bar. “Dance with me,” she tried to walk over to him in her high heels but stumbled, Michael quickly grabbing her around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Come on.”

“You… two are… no fun,” she moaned pitifully. However, she did not fight against Michael’s strong grasp as he led her out of the bar and to his ferrari.

It took him longer than it should have to just get her in the car. However, once she was settled, he went into the back and grabbed the spare gym bag he kept there and dumped all the clothes out before putting it in her lap like a makeshift bucket. Though he knew he could just take her to his condo, he wanted to care for her at his home, which was a longer drive. And as much as he adored her, getting the interior of his brand new and very expensive custom car cleaned when all that alcohol inevitably showed up in a different, less desirable form was not on his to-do list for tomorrow.

Raven’s wild and uninhibited drunk persona continued for most of the ride as she demanded he turn on some “tunes” for her to listen to, singing loudly and off-key to every song she pulled up on his Spotify. It would have been cute if the entire situation had not been so concerning.

By the time they reached his house 30 minutes later, the height of her drunkenness had worn off and her persona had settled into a decidedly somber one.

“You hold your liquor better than I thought you would,” Michael remarked as he helped her up the stairs to his master suite.

“Only… long enough not to throw up in your fancy car. Can’t m-make the same promise… for your carpet if you keep moving this slow.”

That did make Michael pick up his pace a bit, immediately taking Raven to his bathroom and gently sitting her down. He made quick work of taking off her shoes and pulling her hair back with the hair tie on her wrist just in time for her to bury her face in the toilet.

Michael rarely got sick from alcohol but he had never been more thankful for his high tolerance of liquor as he essentially watched her body perform an exorcism. He only left her once to get her water and make a cup of tea to settle her stomach but even in his giant house, he could hear the faint heaving as he made his way to the kitchen.

When he returned with her water and tea, Raven was sitting with her head propped up on his toilet seat, gingerly wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry…” she pushed out. “Having my ex have to take care of me is a… fucking new… low.”

Michael felt like she had sucker punched him with the word ex. He supposed that was what they were, no matter how much he did not want that to be true. But it did not hurt any less.

“Don’t apologize.” He wet a washcloth with warm water before wiping her face. “Better?”

“Yea… c-can’t imagine there’s anything left in my body,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before saying. “You shouldn’t’ve come. I told him not to tell you where I went.”

“Tonight was the first time he called me. I only just got back to LA this week for press and the premiere. He was just worried about you. Don’t think he expected me to actually show up.”

She eyed him up and down, for the first time realizing he was in a pristine deep royal blue tuxedo. She could not stop the passing thought on how good he looked.

“How was it?” At his confused expression, she amended. “The movie… how was it?”

He scoffed, even in this state, she cared about how his movie went. She always spoke about how she did not deserve him but from where he sat, it was the other way around.

“Don’t really care to talk about the movie right now, Rae. Want to talk about you.”

“Well I don’t wanna talk about me o-or think about me. Hence all the alcohol my body just ejected. So how was the movie?”

He slid down onto the floor next to her, setting the pajama set he had pulled out for her next to him.

“It was good. I’d already seen it but seein’ it on a big screen, watchin’ my family see it. It was surreal.”

“A-and the press tour?”

“Good. Busy. Not done either. Alex secured an interview with Oprah, which is hella dope… bout the movie and Oscars. So it’s been good. Hard without the one person I needed though.”

She scoffed, finally feeling strong enough to stop using his toilet as a literal crutch. She forced herself to scoot away, now leaning her back into his standing tub across from him.

“Didn’t need me. No one does,” she muttered, taking a sip of the tea he sat out for her.

Ginger tea, perfectly made just as she liked it. God, why was he like this?? So perfect and attentive even when she wanted to hate him?

“That’s not true. Tell me what’s goin’ on, Rae? I… I’ve never seen you like this. Never seen you drink this much or talk like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well…” she muttered as she played with the material of his rug beneath her.

“I think I know you pretty well and this ain’t you.”

“I… finally talked to my sister today. A-and she just voiced what I already knew but had never said out loud. All I do is ruin things… people. Hell, I’m about to ruin this book deal you got it… I can’t even write anymore. Destruction follows me like a damn fire everywhere I go, burning everything I touch. I just… didn’t want to be me for a while? Didn’t want to be weighed down by that.”

“You didn’t ruin me.”

“If you had never met me, your face wouldn’t have been plastered across TMZ for carrying an unconscious woman out of a hotel…. If you’d never met me, you’d be blissfully enjoying your moment right now instead of taking care of a pathetic girl you dumped.” She paused, her fingers twirling around the fraying threads of the hole in her distressed jeans. “If I hadn’t been born, my family would be whole a-and happy. If I had just said yes to that asshole, I’d still have my career and I wouldn’t have resorted to prostitution. I-If I hadn’t decided to make a quick buck, I wouldn’t have disappointed my students a-and everyone I know. A-and it was easy to blame you when e-everything happened,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face, as the drunk facade gave way to the brokenness and pain she tried to numb. “It was easy to act as if this w-was all your fault. But it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Rae…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t pretend it’s not true… this is all my fault.” He watched as she held the soft cotton in her hands, her fingers rolling over it. A tear fell from her eyes, splashing onto the heather gray material. She lifted her eyes, her first time looking him in his eyes. “W-was any of it real? W-what we had?”

“All of it was real. Every bit of it. I love you with everything in me, Rae. I hate that you don’t believe that, that I made you doubt it. But it’s true. You can’t ruin me when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“A-and Tasha? D-do you love her?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Fuck no. I swear. I… messed up. Completely fucked up. I… thought I was helping you by dealing with it on my own and I let my anger at Tasha and fear of hurting you push me to do just that. I hurt you. And I’ll do anything to mend what I broke.Because you’re my world, Raven. You have to believe that. What can I do to make you believe that?”

Michael watched as her shoulders shrugged forward, collapsing under the weight of the day and everything. She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her head on her knees. “I d-don’t know if I can believe anything anymore.

“Then I’ll spend the rest of your life and mine helping you believe it. Whatever it takes.”

Raven stood up, ignoring the dizziness the sudden movement caused as she made a beeline for his bedroom door. She thought she could do this but she couldn’t. She couldn’t be here with him, listening to his promises. Not when the voices in her head loudly clashed against his words like metal against metal. Most of her brain that still loved him with everything in her screamed at her for pulling him away from one of the biggest nights of his career, chastising her for ruining yet another thing for him. And the louder part that demanded she despise him yelled that all of his promises were a lie, nothing he said was real. They weren’t real.

She did not deserve him and he was just propping her back up so he could knock her down again, he would never keep those lofty promises. That’s what everyone in her life did and she was too bruised to be anyone’s punching bag anymore. He was just a fantasy she tried to will to life but was never real.

She grabbed her clutch and phone that Michael had discarded on her bed. She did not care how her body swayed slightly and was still off kilter. She could stay awake long enough to call an uber and get herself home.

“What are you doing??”

“Going home. I c-can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You s-should be out celebrating your big night, not here taking care of me.”

“The fuck? Raven, put the phone down. I ain’t lettin’ you Uber home like this.”

“You don’t care!”

“Stop sayin’ that shit!” he rushed forward and ripped her phone out of her hands, closing the Uber app. He knew it was wrong but he also knew her movements and reactions were too slow for her to stop him.

She tried to snag it from him, the actor easily holding it above their heads and utterly out of her reach.

“Stop wasting your time on me, Michael,” she hurled at him, her eyes clenching shut in her exasperation. “G-Go be with Tasha o-or some model or some woman actually worth your time. A woman you actually want. We both know that’s not me. So let me go, please. T-this… the promises, t-the disappointment, it hurts too much.”

“Be mad at me. Push me away all you want. Fine, I deserve it. But do it because I fucked up. Because I lied and kept the truth from you and tried to protect you and disappointed you just like everyone else. I can learn to live with that one day. But I can’t and won’t live with you doing it because you still believe you don’t deserve me! Because that’s not true.”

“Why w-would I believe you deserve me??! What future could we… ever have together when the world knows you a-and however many men they believe paid me for sex?? What kinda future is that for us?? People a-are calling you the greatest actor of a fuckin’ generation. You’re about to interview with fuckin’ Oprah literally this week! And what am I? A prostitute with no family and 3 failed careers under her belt?? A failed author who can’t even write a sentence now, much less another book. What kinda future would we have when you didn’t even think I w-was strong enough to tell me your secrets, your problems?? This whole situation, YOUR actions, proves that WE WEREN’T REAL!” she exploded, her drunkenness fueling the first time she voiced her true feelings out loud to anyone. “None of it was real. And the moment it got real, the moment shit got hard, you didn’t confide in me, you didn’t trust me, you threw me to the wolves because you knew what the rest of the world knows… I don’t deserve to be here i-in this part of your life! Th-This house… y-your family… your real life?? I don’t fit here anymore, Michael! I n-never did.” She took a deep shuddering breath before continuing.

“So I’m asking you… begging you to just… let me go. L-Let me go back to my…” she chuckled. “Insignificant life as Pluto o-or the side character. Please. B-Because I can pick myself b-back up a-and force myself to keep moving, force myself to keep going a-and b-be alone for the rest of my life a-and live in the shadows. But I can’t do that with fake promises, promises of m-more when it isn’t real… because w-words a-and promises a-aren’t real a-and they aren’t enough a-anymore. I can’t k-keep putting my faith in fantasies only for reality to knock me down again. Because I d-don’t think I can get back up again. I-I’m tired, Michael. This is it, this is all I have left. So please… just let me go.”

Michael slightly stumbled back in shock, the raw hurt in her voice almost too agonizing to feel. His arm came down but his grip on her phone was almost crushing. Though he wanted to respect her wishes, he also knew… there was not a world in which he could let her go truly. He loved her too much. His world rose and set with her. He used his knuckles to wipe his own tears away.

“Raven… please. J-just give me a chance to show you that I’m real, that what I feel for you is real. Because I would give up all this shit, every last bit of it for you. I’m at the height of my career and all I can think about is you. All that matters is you.”

She shook her head and held out her hand for her phone. “I wish… I wish I c-could believe you. But I don’t know if I can.”

With that, Michael’s grip loosened just enough for Raven to grab her phone and purse and start to walk out the door. However, as she pulled open the door, Michael’s hand grabbed the frame to stop her.

“I can keep working to fix what I did. I can show you that you’re my world, that you’re my Sun and that my world revolves around the very look on your face. I will happily show up at your doorstep everyday with actions and proof of how much I love you… how much I fucking breath for you. And I will. But I can’t make you believe it. I can’t make you believe you deserve it. That’s the one thing I can’t do here. I-I’ll never let you go, Rae. My heart will always be yours.” He bowed his head, every word felt like a sharp knife leaving his throat, agony to force out. But he knew it had to be said. “But I c-can’t force you to believe that you own my heart and deserve it or that you’re worth everything to me. I can do everything in my power to show you I’m worth one more fall but you have to jump. So if and when you believe what I know is true about you and us, I’m ready to jump again.”

And with that, he let her go, allowing her to open the door fully and leave. Every step she took further away from him caused the sorrow he felt to grow to unspeakable heights. At one time, he thought this pain could not have gotten worse. But this was far worse.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N:

I promise yall… it’s gonna get better LOL This is really the worst it gets! Our girl is just feeling the weight of it all and is sad but she is a survivor 💪🏾

Y’all were hard on my girl last chapter - how are we feeling?? Still mad at her? Still mad at Michael? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! *disappears* lol also it was really hard to post this from my phone 😭 won’t do that again hahaha



[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hey! Can u write a whump fic where a winged hero gets their wing ripped out and the villain come to save them?

“Oh god.” That was all the villain could whisper. They had hoped, prayed, that they would make it in time but it was evidently too late.

The hero’s back was covered in dark and thick blood, dropping down onto the ground in two rivers.

At first, the villain had thought them to be dead. They were laying in a fetal position, hiding their head and shallow breathing. The sheer amount of blood loss suggested death or at least the process of dying but the villain also knew that their nemesis wasn’t human.

Where their wings used to be were two open and deep wounds, deep enough, the villain feared, to show bone. They needed a second to remind themselves to act.

“You’re with me, okay?” the villain asked but their voice broke and their hope did too. When they kneeled beside the hero and picked them up, they took their enemy’s face into their hands. Tears ran down their beautiful face and all the villain could think of was a fallen angel.

“Hey, you’re okay.” The hero’s eyes found theirs and they shook their head weakly. As if to answer, the villain smeared the tears across the hero’s cheeks with their thumbs, trying desperately to get rid of them. “Yes. You are okay, this is fine.”

They were fully aware that pain was a different feeling for the hero. It was more intense, more vile and shattering than for other people. Whenever it got this bad, the hero would just suffer in silence, crying without making a sound. However, the villain couldn’t even begin to comprehend what this meant to their enemy.

They knew the hero and they knew their wings were everything to them. Sometimes they would say they would be nothing without them and the villain had always hated that they based their self-worth on this.

“Let’s turn you around, okay?” The hero shook their head and the villain couldn’t help but interpret their protest as a form of giving up. Giving up and waiting to die, that’s what was happening to them.

Without heeding their reaction, the villain turned them around, so that their naked upper body was laying across their lap. They knew how painful their next words would be.

“I have to stitch this.” The hero buried their face in the villain’s thigh and once again, they shook their head. “These cuts are deep and even though your body heals faster, it doesn’t mean that there won’t be any complications. You will most certainly die if it stays like this.”

Stitching this meant a permanent solution, a permanent scar that would make it impossible to reattach their wings. The villain doubted that those wings were intact anyway.

“No,” the hero whispered. “Please.”

“It’s okay, you will live,” the villain tried to explain. They put their flat hand onto the hero’s exposed shoulder, caressing gently. “You’re more than this, I promise. You can outlive this. You can find a happy life.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. Please, fight this. Don’t give them what they want,” the villain begged. God, they hadn’t begged in ages. “You’re so much more than what they see. You’re not a prize, you’re not an exotic animal. You don’t deserve to be hunted and you can’t make them think they won. They will pay for this.”

The hero searched for the villain’s hand and once they found it, they squeezed it.

“Do what you have to do.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

I remember the feeling of hands inside me. Pulling, tugging, moving things aside. My emergency c-section wasn’t painful, but that feeling of being invaded was somehow worse than physical hurt. For years, the thought of the surgery would send me into a PTSD panic, my knees literally buckling and vomit coming up the back of my throat. In my memory, my arms are tied down while I’m being cut—but I know that’s not true. It’s just my brain’s way of making the powerlessness of the moment seem tangible. 

Because I was so early in my pregnancy, just 28 weeks along, doctors had to cut me both horizontally and vertically, making it life-threatening for me to have a vaginal birth in the future and increasing my risk for uterine rupture. I didn’t know it then, but I would never have another child.  So when I see anti-abortion groups blithely suggesting that women with life-threatening pregnancies should be forced into c-sections rather than easier, safer, and less traumatic abortions—it feels personal. Because I chose my medical nightmare; it was necessary to save both my life and my daughter’s. I can’t imagine the horror of going through such a thing unnecessarily, or at 16 weeks pregnant instead of 28. What if my tied-down arms weren’t a post-traumatic illusion, but a legal reality?

For nearly a year, I’ve been tracking this growing strategy: Some of the most powerful anti-abortion organizations in the country are using carefully-worded legislation and seemingly-credible clinical recommendations to codify medical atrocities—pushing doctors to force pregnant women into unnecessary labor and c-sections, even before fetal viability and sometimes even when a fetus has died. Why would anyone do such a thing? The answer is as simple as it is awful: Anti-abortion groups and lawmakers want to prove that abortion is never necessary to save a person’s life. The problem is that they know pregnancy can be deadly, especially in the United States. Rather than admit abortion can be life-saving, their solution is to force doctors to end deadly pregnancies in any other way—even if it means torturing women in the process. 

Anti-abortion lawmakers and activists are so desperate to divorce abortion from health care, they’d prefer to see us dead than allow critically ill women to get care they disagree with.  I mean that literally. This is how they kill us. With the sly shifting of medical standards and surreptitiously-placed legislative language. Because while these people are cruel, they’re certainly not stupid. Anti-abortion extremists know the only way to normalize medical torture is to move quietly and slowly.  After all, dystopias aren’t created in a day. They’re built, law by law and talking point by talking point, through medical regulations, bureaucracy, and fear. From a Supreme Court ruling in Idaho to timid guidance from hospital administrators in Louisiana—anti-abortion groups don’t need to own up to their grim vision when they have others embedding the nightmare bit by bit. 

That’s not to say they haven’t been busy themselves. Using extremist groups with credible-sounding names—like American Association of Pro-Life OBGYNs or the Charlotte Lozier Institute—the anti-abortion movement has carefully disguised radical calls to hurt women as simple scientific recommendations. They’ve inserted the nonsense term ‘maternal fetal separation’ into legislation, court cases and conservative talking points, removing ‘abortion’ in an attempt to further the lie that the procedure is never necessary. They've published papers and trotted out ‘experts’ who claim it’s “medically standard” to force women into c-sections or vaginal labor when their lives are at risk. Again, even when it’s too early for a fetus to survive.

Anti-abortion legislators have done their job too, passing laws that allow their state to define what conditions are life-threatening during pregnancy and the best course of action for doctors. They’ve written mandates that emergency terminations be performed in a way that “provides the best opportunity for the unborn child to survive.” If states must be forced to save women’s lives, it appears, they’ll make sure we suffer greatly for the trouble.  It’s not a coincidence that reports coming out of anti-abortion states show a sharp rise in c-sections. With their license and freedom on the line, doctors and hospitals are falling in line. One Texas OBGYN who was directed to give a septic patient a hysterotomy told researchers, “The morbidity is going to be insane.”

To people who value fetuses above women, that’s a price they’re willing to pay. Indeed, all of this cruelty starts to make morbid sense when you understand that the broader anti-abortion goal goes beyond forced c-sections or redefining medical standards. They are trying to make Americans numb to women suffering and dying during pregnancy. They’re treating it as unpreventable—natural, even—so that voters don’t bat an eye when the maternal mortality numbers skyrocket. 

Jessica Valenti reports on the rise of c-sections post-Roe and dishonest efforts to divorce abortion from healthcare by anti-abortion zealots in her Abortion, Every Day blog.

[didoldacc]

penchant ● choi beomgyu

nsfw content, minors please do not interact!

warnings: manipulative themes and mental health problems, heavy emphasis on beomgyu's beauty, religious references(only used to describe beomgyu's beauty, reader doesn't have an established religion so don't worry), hurt/comfort, reader is also an idol, misogynistic themes, no one in the story is "good" but the villain is reader's group member, toxic relationships, mentions of su1c1d3 cheating, first lovers to exes to lovers, hurt comfort, breaking in, topic of drug addiction, possesive yandereish!beomgyu, soft and hard dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, marking, pet names, oral (both receiving), fingering, praise kink, dacryphilia, size kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation, dumbification, drowning kink, manhandling, multiple rounds, overstimulation, body worship(not just body worship tbh, reader worships beomgyu basically), choking, hair pulling, objectification, beomgyu takes advantage of reader's low point but great aftercare(finally a good thing), a really dumb solution for the conflict this is my very first full-length fic so i don't know how will this go, let me know if there is anything else i should add to warnings that i have missed. also don't forget to read the disclaimers at the end of the story.

qurbone ta hazole ta: "give up(my life for)/sacrifice(myself to) you, to beautiful you."

"they say when god created joseph, he wasted more than half of all humanity's beauty on him. yet here you are. even all of it wouldn't create another you."

an intense pain you feel on your chest. it really sucks that you have no one you trust to talk about what you are going through. but even if you did, you are not sure if you have the courage to tell the truth. so you just find a corner where you can silently cry. a place that no one knows except for him. you don't let yourself cry out even though it is exactly what you need so you just sit there in fetal position and put your head on your knees while tears just keeps shedding.

suddenly you hear footsteps coming towards the room you are in. you just wish it wasn't him. you don't want to face anyone, especially him. you don't have the courage to face him. you did nothing wrong to him yet he is the only person that you don't want them to find out. you feel guilty all over again and even though your mind wants to stop your tears shed even more and your sobs become audible.

and your fear comes true. you hear beomgyu's voice. you cannot comprehend what he is saying but it is not hard to assume why he is here. obviously he had to make a phone call. you try to wipe down your tears before he walks into room and check yourself if you look like you have been crying. and unfortunately for you definitely do. as soon as your hand goes to your purse to find something to clean your ruined make up, you hear the door opening.

he sees you and paniced expression covers his face. your ruined eye make up, your sclera turned red, your puffed face, your messy hair. it is impossible for anyone to not pity you in your state so it is not hard to imagine how pitiful you ex would be in this position.

he immediately hangs up his phone. from what you were able to heard, you assumed that the person on the phone with him was his new girlfriend. your lips move slightly upwards to the idea of him hanging up on his girlfriend for you yet you know better than thinking it meant something, of course he was going to hang up when he saw someone crying.

you pull yourself back when he starts to walk towards you. you don't know what to say or how to act. it is all awkward. one does not show their crying face to their ex boyfriends. you feel your heart racing, you can even hear it. and you find your back hitting the wall when he stops walking towards you.

surprisingly he doesn't say anything. he just comes closer and hugs you. his hands reach your hair and starts slowly patting your hair. while his grip on you thightens. you hear him humming a lullaby he knows you love to your ears. tears fall again from your eyes and sobs follow leaving your mouth. even his smell makes you feel safe. at home. you stay like that for almost an hour when he finally speaks. "so are you going to tell me what has been bothering you or you just want to stay like this?" you want to say yes but you decline his offer. you kept hearing his notification sound the whole time he was trying to calm you down. you know you should create new boundaries with him and also you don't want his act of the countenance ruin his new relationship. you just thank him and leave thinking he would let go.

the minute you leave the room, your phone's notification sound keeps ringing. messages you see yet don't open keep covering the upper side of your screen. you know it's from a certain member of your group. she spams your ktalk to say the same thing over and over again. at first you felt guilty and offered to help her deal with her problems. problems that you technically created. thoughts racing your mind. should you tell someone? your manager? your leader? the ceo? beomgyu?

yet you decide not to even though you know if they hear the story they would side with you or once you show them everything she texted.

you find yourself in front of your parents' house. you didn't even realize you were heading there when you wandered around. guess your consciousness chose here since seeing her would not be a great choice for you right now. luckily your parents were away for the next couple of days. you are not sure if them seeing you like this was a good idea.

you start a warm bath for yourself. maybe this could calm you down. dealing with her has become your full time job. heck even full time jobs had breaks, you didn't have that beautiful privilege.

as soon as your body connects with the bathtub, you hear someone opening the door. a fear -that soon fades when you see beomgyu- covers your whole body.

"beomgyu what are you doing here? how did you get in?" he doesn't bother to answer to your question. just stands there and stares at you. you were able to remain nonchalant yet you felt the urge to ask "why don't you just let go? we have broken up long time ago, i don't wanna be burden to you with my problems. it is not comfortable anymore." he just smirks and walks toward you before answering.

"you naive little thing, you never stoped being mine. and i don't like seeing what's mine get hurt by someone else." you feel a knot on your throat. the urge to cry is undeniable. what does he mean? still his? it's true that you are still single after your breakup with him even years later but at the end of the day you weren't his either.

"don't play dumb with me, princess. i know how obsessed you are with me, never really moving on... don't worry i find it cute." you know he is right. ever since the very first time your eyes had been blessed by his beauty, you only wanted to be his. for a while you were his and getting to know the real him didn't help your case of obsession with him. you started to love him more with everything you had learned, craving for even more. even him dumping you never changing anything.

when he sees your face expression turning calmer, he finally decides to answer the question you have asked when he first walked in. "i still remember the password to doorlock, that's how i got in. i am sorry for following you but i couldn't let my baby go like this." you give him a smile full of pain. "i really want to tell you everything. and i will. just let me get my head cleared first. maybe if you let me finish my bath, i will be on my right mind so i can tell the story without victimizing myself."

a sinister expression covers beomgyu's face, leaving you confused with the sudden change of atmosphere. "without me?" he simply says. he stares at your pupil growing bigger like a cat almost covering all of your iris that expresses your shock. "what about your girlfriend?" you manage to ask. "who cares? she knows she is a nobody i just choose to get my dick wet. i will just have to deal with dumping her but that can wait." you know that beomgyu is not particularly fan of the idea of one true love but you also know that he is not just a player. yet you choose to ignore the words coming out of his mouth confusing you more and accept his request. it is wrong but there is no moral compass for beomgyu's asks.

you miss his beautiful face, his beautiful body, his beautiful everything. so the voice in your head that keeps telling you that this is wrong stands no chance. god must have put all his energy while creating him. because there is no other logical explanation of why he is this beautiful. you watch him get naked. he takes his time, almost like he is teasing you. your eyes filled with admiration, you feel sick to your stomach. how can you even look at him after what you have done. sure, there is no way that he was harmed beacuse of the stupid desicions you made with your certain member yet you felt guilty.

as if he was reading your mind he starts talking again. "you were going to clear your mind, remember?" you nod while his now naked body positions himself right behind you. he made you lean your back on his chest while he starts to play with your hair. "so missed this, can't believe i was the one breaking up with you. but you'll forgive me, right? that's what my girl does." you only hum in agreement. though he doesn't need answers, he always gets what he wants when it comes to you.

his hands slowly start to play with you. light sensual touches againgst your soft skin. his hands move from your arms to your boobs giving them a gentle squeeze. the stimulation you feel on your nipples making you lean towards him even more. your new position allows him to give kisses on your forehead. "gyu~" you shamelessly start to moan his name with the really little play. he smiles and orders you to turn around. when you do he brings you to his lap before starting his abuse on your lips.

what starts as a gentle kiss filled with love turns into his way of devouring you. "gosh, you look so cute. i've missed this. i missed you." your face lights up with his words. you waste no time repeating his words of longing. his lips lifts up when he places his hand to your cheek. "you are so pretty. so pretty for me. only for me." you agree "only for you, beomie."

"want to make me happy?" he asks while grabbing your face. "anything, my god. anything for you." he can't help but get excited with the thing you called him. a god. that's what he is to you, right? his hands moving to your neck, his grip thightens around your neck then he sinks your body to water. "hold your breath as long as you can, baby. i wanna see you struggle. don't worry i will be careful that you don't get harmed. and if it's going to be too much just say no, i will understand. " yet you say nothing and with that he forces yor head under the water. the oxygen losing contact with your lungs. you body activates it's panic mode. you try to get out but his grip keeping you suffocated under the water, only thing you can do is just struggle just like he asked. he slowly stops and helps you to come back to surface. "did i hurt you?" you shake your head assuring him that everything is okay. "you did so good for me like a slut perfectly molded for me." you could feel his aroused state.

"maybe i should reward my precious doll. hmm, right?" you get excited with the news. after making sure you both are clean, he lifts you up and carries you bridal style. when he brings you to your room, you both can't help but feel nostalgic. vividly remembering every single time you both sneaked out during trainee days to have some fun here. exploring each other's bodies and your sexualities. beomgyu takes a pride for being the only one that did these things to you. and he is the only one who can. he made sure of it with planting ideas of everyone else being disgusting but him, only he can love you, everyone else is always after their own best interests, they do not care about you, he also scared away whoever men trying to get close to you and most important thing of them all he made himself your god. he was aware of his beauty and he made sure that it is the only thing in your mind, thinking about it nonstop. why did he break up with you in the first place? who knows but believe it he would lose it if someone else touches his property.

after gently placing to your bed, a trail of kisses on your body, especially focusing on the places he can leave marks to claim you once again and show the world you are taken. he goes back and forth between soft sensual kisses and anilmalistic lickerish kisses. once he is satisfied with all of his bite mars around your nect to thighs, he gives your lips a final kiss.

"will you be a dear and spread those legs for me?" you happily obey without any second thinking, leaving beomgyu pleased. his hands immediately travels to your aching core. "hmm, so wet~ ah this boosts my ego, seeing my angel turning into a slut for me. " he comments before thrusting his middle finger into you. "shit, even more thight than i remember. i bet-" he says while his thum starts to massage your clit. "i bet you can't even take my second finger. i don't think you will be able to take my cock, princess. how are you supposed to? look at you so small compared to me~" he says with a scoff. without a warning he adds his second finger and starts to do scizoring motions to get you ready for his size. but with a sudden change of heart, you feel his fingers leaving your hole and he gets up and sits between your legs. "how about my baby gets an orgasm she clearly missed while not being with me, hm?" before you say anything you feel his lips on your clit and his fingers rejoin the party in your cunny. while his fingers thrusting you with a fast and brutual pace, his mouth is way more gentler with your button. your poor finger playing with your clit wasn't enough to make you cum. you don't know why you never tried anything other than that but he is making it up to you with more experienced skills after your break up.

"beomgyu! a-ah too good, too good! ple- please don't stop." you keep repeating like it'sn invocation. feeling overwhelmingly good, it doesn't take too long for you to get close. "cum for me, hun" his voice vibrates on your core and with that your high reaches to you like waves. only being able to pant, you just lay there. beomgyu smiles and gives you compliments. telling you how good you did for him.

before you can regather your consciousness, he makes you sit on the corner of your bed and sits next to you. hands playing with your thighs. he leans towards your ear. "first return the favor and we are talking, okay? and after that i wanna have more fun with you, missed you so much." he whispers. you nod and get on your knees between his legs.

you start with kissing the tip. gosh it has been so long, what if you scupper it up? your hands hugging his member. you slowly start to push your head towards the length. when it reaches to back of your throat, you try your best not to gag. one hand goes to the places that you can't reach to stimulate there too while with your other hand, you play with his balls. trying so hard to be your best. not stoping your tounge swiling and your efforts to suck the soul out of him. apparently what you do is working cuz he turns into a whimpering mess. "that's it baby, just like that like a whore but only for me."

this only encourages you to go deeper making his body to fall back down. "can't believe you haven't done this in more than two years. you are s- so good~" you feel over the clouds with the compliments.

his breath gets heavier when he gets close. manages to say "shallow every- everything that i give you unless you want- ughmp a punishment." right before he relaeses his liquid for you.

laying right beside him, you give him a moment to rest while you try to think of what you are going to say. when he turns his head towars you, he expects you to speak but now you think maybe your problem wasn't that big. when you keep staying silent, he snaps. looking at you with an angry expression he just says "get out with it."

"should i just tell them all at once or-" he interrupts "doesn't matter as long as you get it out off your chest." you keep only looking at him for a little while before you say "it is dumb and i really don't wanna bother-" he interrupts again. "me? you really think it's gonna bother me? you know maybe the only one thing about is your stupid overthinking. i want you to tell. and i don't care if you are comfortable or not. i deserve to know. and if it was that stupid why were you crying like a toddler, hm?" he kisses your cheeks and hugs you. panting your back while giving your face sweet kisses.

"i started it, i thought i was the bad guy. but now i realize that even though i am not innocent, i am the victim, the one who got abused and manipulated." he breaks the connection to see your face. "can you elaborate, darling? who did what to you?" you blink your eyes when you feel them getting dry. beomgyu slightly chuckles to your silliness for forgetting to close your eyes for so long. "go on, i am listening. gosh my silly girl. even missed this."

"i- i don't know why i was doing that, now i find it extremely cringe but i had this similar thing to drug problem." a shocked expression covers his face with the unexpected news. "you did what?" you cringed at yourself even more. "i know it is so dumb but i needed something to cope, you know after we broke up." he smiles "i understand, i wasn't making fun of it or judging. i was just surprised. it is just so unexpected from you. you are scared of authority and public opinion first of all and this thing also hurts people around you and that's where you draw the line. it all is okay though. this doesn't make you a bad person." say says reassuring you.

"yes but i might kinda have shown that little habbit to one of my members and they might have also started it because of me. but i swear i warned her and told her to stop constantly. and i didn't even show or suggest her that. she just saw me doing it one day and she also started to have an addiction it consumed her as a whole. she stopped doing anything productive and always talked about it even when she was not gambling. and i felt guilty." he looks at you with a warm expression this time. "i am starting to see why this is stressing you out that much. and you are talking about 'nincompoop' i am assuming. she was always problematic and a stupid loser. why can't she decide for herself in her age? i don't see the problem here, you are not responsible for an adult who is capable of making her own desicions. "

"i still haven't told you everything..." you stop "okay baby, i was just trying to be responsive. go on, tell me everything, i am listening." you continue "well, later i realized my guilt was unnecessary. i am not victimizing myself, don't get me wrong but she pushed me more into that rabbit hole. you know i am kind of naive-" he interrupts again "not kind of, you are." you speak up. "GYU!" he giggles "i am not calling you dumb, though i can easily get you there with my touch~ you are just too trusting and do not question people around you that much." this time you say nothing, enjoying his teasing but you decide to continue yet again. "since i am KIND OF naive, i started to become the one who is influenced badly rather than being the bad influence. i was rather a casual than an addict. but she was definitely. she then got caught by our manneger. he let it go and told he is not going to tell the ceo. she felt afraid. she was so scared. i felt guilty and promised i will help. she had nothing to be afraid of but you know scared people, they lose it. i suggested her getting help and told her i also will get it even though i have stopped doing it more than a yeand and a half. she stopped cuz she was scared but refused to get help or to do anything to get better."

his hands holding yours, he decide to tease you yet again. "i am guessing the real story starts after this." he feels kinda shocked when you nod. "you know she can easily tell the public, i was the bad influence. and i can't even deny it when she does. she is not stable. i am not making her mental health problems the villain but she never has the good intentions, only wants attention of others even if it's negative. she can easily ruin me, my career. not just me but also the other members. even one can argue that i deserved it and had it coming, you can't tell the same thing about the other girls. they did nothing wrong."

"she was scared that police will find her and she will be put in jail. i told her it has been months. they don't have an evidence even, they can't but instead of listening to me, she found other people's stories online that was not even similar to hers. i kept telling her stop looking at those news or fake stories, she only hurts herself. then i decided to pay an actor for a small role. she was my friend and she accepted it. so i told nincompoop that i had a friend that went through the same thing and her stiation was in a small city, a white lie in my opinion. my friend did everything i asked her to. i know this is way fucked up but i really had the best interest of her. i mean maybe not cause i was getting tired of her clinging on me and constant whining. i wanted to help, really, but she was just... i know she has problems. i am an awful person for instead of understanding her problems, i hate her for them. it is just too much sometimes." you are surprised that he just listened without interrupting even once. you two stay slient for a few minutes before he gathers his thoughts and speaks. "you are not awful. from what i see you tried to help but she started to see you as her therapist. am i right?" you nod then shake your head. honestly you aren't sure what happened between you two. it all feels like a fewer dream.

"i mean maybe you are right or maybe i am not as understanding as i thought i was." he clears his throat. "i think you do way above bare minimum. i really don't trust this girl. wasn't she lying about her mom abusing her, just because her disabled sister got attention while she did not?" you try to defend her. "all people seek attention, gyu. yes her lying was not good but no one got hurt, right? we all are desperate for attention because we all are social creatures so why is she the bad guy?" beomgyu sighs in disbelief. "why are you defending her? no one getting hurt and attention seeking being in human nature doesn't make what she did less wrong but also didn't she hurt you? is that also in human nature?" you get upset with the way he raised his voice at you. seeing your reaction, beomgyu spoke. "i am sorry for raising my voice. it is just you are so naive and i don't like seeing getting hurt, okay? now continue please."

"before i continue, i really need to ask you something. am i a real life bojack horseman for hiring an actor-friend to get what i want." he bursts into laughs when he hears your question. but when he realizes that you aren't joking, he simply says. "no. no, you are not." you giggle and then put your head on his chest.

"gyu, maybe my brain plays games with me but after that she got even worse as if she knew what was i up to. she kept sending me messages of how she was so afraid that police will arrest her and the stories from the internet she read became the only thing she talked about. i said something. it was not a big deal or maybe it was but i said that her trusting her paranoia and the random people on the internet more than me made me hurt and i got offended. i said that just trust me and my friend that went through the same thing. i called some lawyer friends and they said she was totally safe. i wasn't making anything up. i even called a police relative and asked if she is safe and he said yes as long as there is no evidence. and since there is no evidence she was safe. but instead of listening to reason she said and i quote 'i am saying that i am going to k1ll myself and you are making this about you. you are so selfish.' that was never my intention nor the thing i said. but her saying that made me feel selfish. i really don't have any moral compass but if i had one being selfish would be the equivalent of being bad so i felt awful, like i am the worst person ever. i was the one who abused my prescriptions pills which caused her to become a drug addict. i blamed myself but then she confessed that she even took part in drug dealing. i cannot be responsible for that, right? because i never did anything like that even the thing i did i warned her again and again and again. i kept offering professional help even before and after her getting caught. i did my best but she made me feel bad about myself and kept saying 'don't leave me. if you leave, i will end it.' she wanted my constant attention and i am just too tired, gyu." you speak this time without letting him respond until you finished.

he pushes your head up so that he can look into your eyes. "let's just softly ghost her or make her stop talking to you herself. she can't tell anyone you misusing your pills without revealing her substance abuse." you give him a confused look. "how am i supposed to ghost her or never talk to her. we live together, we are in the same band. how will it even work?" beomgyu doesn't respond but instead makes you sit while he keeps his back placed on your bed. though you don't quite get the reasoning behind this, you still want him to play with you as he promised.

he looks ethereal, you think to yourself. how can someone be this beautiful? that moment pushes you to show beomgyu how you worship him. you start with giving him the most passionate kiss he ever had. yor lips longing for his lips for years couldn't care less whose these lips supposed to kiss. you pity the girl yet you do not leave his lips even for a second like a hungry animal.

your kiss trails his whole body. giving every single corner attention they need and complimenting them throughout the way. your soft hands holding his as if they are afraid of losing it again. you don't care about beomgyu's stupid words about people outgrowing each other thing when he dumped you. you two are meant to be yet this thought originally belonged to beomgyu. in his own way, he did this to protect you but clearly he was wrong. what a mess you became after him. it is impossible to not pity you. he doesn't pity you though, he just wants to end your pain while as a giveaway he also gets what he wants.

you proudly look the evidence of kisses you gave filled with desire and little hickeys you covered his stomach with. you trace his bottom half when he stops you. with an easy move he flips you over pressing your body to mattress. his hands holding your arms around your head as if you would escape him if he leaves them. "small little thing~ look how you basically dissappear under me, so cute but it makes me wanna ruin you more, baby. will you let me?" beomgyu's words practically having an incantation effect, you scream your affirmation to him.

his lips immediately attacking yours for a fight for dominance which he obviously is going to win. the taste of his cum being felt by him when you invite his tongue to your mouth. giving him sounds of pleasure and him dueting you sounds, you both feel like you are in heaven.

"such a pretty doll for me to devour~ i bet you would make a great free use fucktoy or a pretty obedient housewife. gosh maybe i should make you one of those." beomgyu says while his right hand trailing down towards your aching pussy. he positions his right hand still taking control over yours.

his two digits playing with your hole with 'come here' and scizoring motions to get you ready, he adds the third one to the party causing a gasp from you. once he feels like you are ready enough to take him, he immediately thrusts into you. he doesn't wait for you to adjust his size. it of course causes some pain following your tears to fall. him only getting more aroused with your tears, his thrusting fastens and gets harder which you don't complain. too lost in the pleasure even with the pain.

it doesn't take you to cum around his dick since beomgyu still remembers your sweet spots to push his member towards to yet it doesn't stop his abuse. his hands moving towards your neck. he gives to much pressure causing you to fight for your breath. "i am not finished, better take it." he says while your body getting close to second orgasm. "cum for me again with me! show me how much you've missed me!" he orders just before you two cum together. his hands leaving your neck to your waist. with an easy move beomgyu manhandles you again on your all fours.

his cock never stopping being hard, he continues his abuse on your poor cunt. overstimulating it making you cockdrunk. beomgyu pulls your hair causing you to moan even louder. he places his other hand on your ass to have a better grip on himself. at this point the only thing you can say is his name while he fucks his cum back into you. enjoying how dumb you got around him, his thrusts fastens. "such a dumb slut. all mine. all mine. all mine. all mine. mine to touch. mine to breed. ugh you can't even respond. you love my cock that much? you can't think of anything but me~" you only being able to understand a little fraction of what he said, you feel the familiar pain building up on your stomach again when he says he is close. you cum around his cock for the third time just before he fills you up again.

he throws himself to your side and brings your back to his chest, spooning you. playing with your hair and giving you compliments not only about the sex you guys had but also your beauty and how angelic you are. he brings you water and makes sure you use the bathroom. he washes your body again. he orders you food you both like. he opens your comfort movie when food arrives. enjoying both the meal and the movie. you two take a nap and when you wake up, seeing him right beside you makes you feel like you are in heaven.

"we should finish our talk." he says leaving you confused. not waiting for a response from you, he says "would you give up everything for me? be my housewife. don't worry i will take care of you and our children." you only get more confused with his words but you nod. what did these have to do with the stiation? he continued. "you will not take the next day pills and you will have my baby. i will marry you. we could be a family and you get your happy ending away from her. since we can't expose her, we can get you away from her." you respond with a "that's dumb but it could also ruin your career. i don't want that. you deserve all the good things, gyu." but he is determined to get what he wants. "then when you get pregnant, we can marry in secret and the company will retire you due to a 'health related complication' i know these all sound dumb but i want you to be mine and mine only. give up everything, run away from your problems even if that's dumb, be with me, start a family with me." you know it all lacks logic but you agree. at the end of the day what would make you two happy is the logical desicion, right?

he smiles when he gets what he wants. he should have found a way to make it sooner but an opportunity came when his lovesick mind was about to go crazy. was he wrong when taking it? beomgyu is never wrong when it comes to you. ready to accept every part of beomgyu.

disclaimer: this work is of course not written with the intention to show real beomgyu, it is just fanfiction. english is not my first language although i can say i am pretty advanced this work contains ambiguity and incomprehensibility. addition to that some tense clashes. also i know drug is big taboo in korea and also i am not trying to make addicts look bad. if it looked like this, i can edit the story to make it less problematic. i hope you guys don't find it dumb. i originally planned the same conflict with shoplifting or gambling but they sounded cringe...

please do not copy or repost or translate my work. i will put this warning just in case. it is stealing in literal meaning. so please just don't.

i hope you guys enjoyed it~

it is my first full-length fanfic so writing might not be that good so i am apologizing for that. also changed the more darker tone this fic originally had cuz it was all edge no point. but i would really like feedbacks. and i appreciate every single reblog. have a good day! love you all!

taglist: @bomudreamgrl

special thanks to: @/kaespas (cuz if not for her i would have delete most of this fic)

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story pt. 3

Warnings: not BETA'D we die like men.

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 2.1k

“Oh, so soon?” he leaned in, obviously interested in my request, “And what might your boon be?”

“As you can probably guess, I need a job. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the role of your PA. If that doesn’t pan out -because of anyone's request outside of your own- I still want a good-paying job with decent benefits. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll cut it short, you’re hired.”

“Please, I don’t need your pity.”

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't hire you out of pity. It's because of what you did just now. I gave you barely any details, and you came up with a sub-par solution." Satisfied with his answer, he reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee. 

"Sub-par says I go out, find your bodyguard, and drag him back here." He visibly aspirates, coughing into a napkin for a minute or so. I got up, got a straw, and returned. By the time I sat down, he had regained most of his composure.

"You had a good plan that led to a good solution," gesturing to himself, "I'm a rich asshole. Are we happy?” A slight rasp remained in his voice.

“Sufficiently. I accept the role of your PA, Mr. Stark. When should I start?"

"After your interview with Ms. Potts. You did say that if anyone aside from me was against you as my PA, you'd be fine with it."

I leaned back, covering my eyes with my hand, ”Yeah, I did."

"Don't try denying it. JARVIS has been recording- I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I fully acknowledge and stand by my previous statement. And, did you just admit to illegally recording our conversation?” My other hand raised pointing at him, “If so, that would be quite unfortunate for you and Stark Industries.” I separated my fingers to see his shocked yet slightly confused expression.

"Well, shit.”

I lowered my hand to the arm of the chair, tilting my head slightly, “Did you think I wouldn’t own up to my word? Please, Tony -can I call you Tony? I’m going to call you Tony- I do have morals, they’re a bitch, but they’re there. When I make promises, I follow through with them.” I look down at my lap, my hands wrapped around my stomach, “I hate people who break their promises. They are the worst kind of people. All that does is hurt those around them, but they’re too self-centered to realize that until it’s too late- sometimes even then it doesn’t click.” I glance up, he’s leaning closer to me, a worried look plastered across his face.

I straighten, collect my things, and move to get up, “I suppose I’ll see you at my interview tomorrow, Mr. Stark.” I walk away and out of the café, hearing the bell ring as I walk out.

I fell face down into my bed, arms spread out. “I just met THE Anthony Edward Stark and acted like it was no big deal. What is wrong with me?” I grabbed a pillow, held it to my chest, curled up into the fetal position, and screamed. “How could I have acted like it was nothing? He’s an A-list celebrity and I just brushed it off!” I prop up onto my elbows, my hands extending forward.

I spent the afternoon and evening just watching TV and reading. While I didn’t typically read graphic books, Hemingway and Remarque’s book had been sitting in my collection untouched for far too long, and it wasn’t necessarily a horrible way to finish the day. About halfway through “All Quiet On The Western Front” I realized just how depressing this book was and how glad I hadn't gone over it with my high school classes. The case remained much the same for “A Farewell to Arms”.

My phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to start getting ready for bed. I got up to grab it, shutting off the tone. I stood up, went to the bathroom, completed my nightly routine, and set out my clothes for my interview, although it seemed I had been hired in all but formalities.

I woke up the next day with a slight ache in my bones but, nothing like the previous day. I got ready and headed out to the Stark Industries headquarters. When I arrived I wasn’t necessarily shocked. The lobby was sleek and modern, bustling with the morning rush. I walked up to the receptionist, an older woman, and told her that I was there for the interview for the role of Mr. Stark’s assistant. I confirmed she looked me up and down before saying my name aloud. She handed me a card, stating it was a single use and would be deactivated once I left the building before pointing me to the elevator, guarded by the head of security, Mr. Stark’s bodyguard, Happy Hogan.

I walked over he looked at me slightly puzzled as I walked up to the elevator, sliding the activated card. It took a moment or two before the door opened and I could not be happier. I walked in and the doors shut. 

“Crap, I didn’t get the floor.” I placed my face in my hand, aggravated at my forgetfulness.

An electronic voice rang out, “I believe I can be of some assistance, Mx.”.

I screamed, “What the fuck?” I backed into a corner, grabbing the rails.

“Apologies, I seem to have startled you. I’m JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“O-okay? Can you send me up to Mrs. Potts’ floor?”

“Of course.”

The elevator ride passes quickly thanks to Stark’s AI. As the doors open JARVIS informs me that the door on the right leads to Ms. Potts’ office. I walk up to the door and knock, ”Come in!” A voice calls out. I open the door and introduce myself.

Ms. Potts was a taller woman with blonde hair. She ran around frantically, “I’m so sorry, an urgent business meeting just came up. Would it be okay to reschedule your interview?”

“Yes, yes, of course. These things happen, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?” I move close to her desk.

The look on her face shows she didn't expect my reaction. "Um, yes. In one of the piles over there. There should be twelve documents with the keywords Stark v. Hammer." She points over the corner where there are three medium-sized piles of papers

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. My assistant has been on sick leave for two weeks and my office has become an absolute mess." I hear the clink of metal on the ground. She squats down, looking for whatever it was that had fallen.

"Really, it's no problem. I've worked in worse offices, this is nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The lawyer I worked for in college. He was a mess. He wouldn't let anyone move his things, so it just stayed that way until he needed a specific paper or file, and then he would send me looking. Apparently, he did that to all of his assistants after one of them, about five years before me, lost one of the major papers in a big case for the firm. He fired her immediately." I rifled through the paperwork, quickly finding a handful of the documents.

"That sounds horrible, although, from a business person's perspective I can somewhat understand." 

"Yeah, it was crazy. I worked for him for four years and almost feel bad for leaving. He finally adjusted and was comfortable with me going through the records." I had found all but one of the papers at this point and had looked through all three piles with no luck.

"Ms. Potts?"

She stands up, bumping her head on the edge of her desk, "Yes?"

"Sorry, um, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She grasps the back of her head, wincing. She's clearly not.

"Are you sure? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes, really. What were you asking about?"

"Okay, are you sure all of the papers are over here? There's one missing. I've gone over the stacks at least three times." 

"Yes, of course. They're all there, I could've sworn." She walks over, or at least attempts to as about halfway she grasps her head, a small groan accompanying the action. I run over, offering my arm. She takes my arm, and I lower her to the ground, a quiet 'thank you' thrown in the midst.

There was a small cut on the back of her head, a small amount of blood flowing out. I place my fingers on the cut, using my powers to heal it. A sharp pain found its way to the back of my head for a moment before it fades.

"Thank you. I think I just needed to sit down for a moment. But, yes, all of the papers should be over here. It's odd that there's one missing."

"Could it be in a different stack?"

"It shouldn't be, then again, I haven't exactly been keeping this place clean enough to say. Crap! The meeting's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"How far into the meeting do you need the papers, and how long do you expect this meeting will be?"

"Maybe two-thirds of the way through and half an hour at the shortest. Why?"

"I'm gonna buy you some time, obviously. I'll look through the rest of the papers to find the missing page. Once I find it I'll head over to your meeting room and deliver the papers as if you'd asked for them just before the meeting began. How does that sound?"

She walks up to me and hugs me. As she pulls away she says, "You are a lifesaver! Thank you." She grabs her papers and walks out of her office, presumably to the meeting room as I stand there stunned, unmoving as a stone.

When her trance breaks, I start moving around the room, quickly checking each pile for the missing paper. I tried to stay in the general area she originally pointed me to with no luck. I slowly moved towards the desk, it was the only place I hadn't checked yet.

I went through the different stacks before finding the paper in the third, guess it really was the charm. I collected all of the papers in a manilla folder, finishing it off with a paperclip -just as a precaution. As I went to grab the door handle JARVIS told me which meeting room they were on.

I walked out to the small foyer between the two offices and entered the elevator. JARVIS took me to the correct floor.

I walked up to the door of the meeting room Ms. Potts was in and knocked on the door before entering. I looked inside to see a variety of old, white businessmen and Ms. Potts in front of a projector explaining something I wasn't about to pretend I understood. She looked relieved. 

I walked in just enough to where I could close the door, "Apologies, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time? I have the paperwork you requested."

"Oh no, not at all." She walked over to me, taking the folder from my hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It was no problem at all, Ma'am. Would you like me to continue working in your office, or go home for the day?"

"Please, wait in my office." She tipped her head slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I excused myself and headed back to Ms. Potts office. I waited for her in one of the armchairs at her desk. I checked my phone and realized I hadn't read the e-mail from Scott yet. I opened his message, the contents shocking me.

'Hi, I know it's been a while since we've talked, I mean really talked. I'm sorry, I chose a girl who saw me as the second choice over the person who's been my best friend practically since we met. I'm leaving the mansion too. Things have been crazy here. The professor is making Jean and Logan sub for all the classes you used to teach, and he'll be doing so for every teacher who leaves because of what happened. I'm planning on moving back to Anchorage. My parents left the house to Alex, but he gave everything to me in his will, making it mine. That house has to be 80 or so years old now, it's going to need a lot of repairs. I'll send you the address once it's all fixed up, maybe have some tea and catch up. 

See you someday,

Scott.'

[ladylooch]

Best Thing I’ll Ever Do - Lio x Savannah (Part 2)

A/N: Since you all asked soooo nicely! Here is the next part of Lio and Sav. I hope you all are having wonderful Sundays. I love you... remember that when you read this next part.... 💀

Word Count: 4k

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

January

Since that day in Southern California a year ago, a lot has happened for Savannah and Lio.

First and most exciting, a large 5 carat diamond weighs her left hand down. She still feels like she needs to pinch herself to make sure it isn’t a dream. Savannah Miller is going to marry Lio Meier next Summer. 

Second, she is no longer with the Devils. After the previous season ended, she evaluated her goals and felt like she wanted to do something different than what she had been doing. She wanted to be her own boss and see where her content career could take her rather than being constrained by a team and a league that wanted things done a certain way.

Third, and probably most important of all, she’s been to more doctors visits in the last year than she can count on any of her appendages.

Lio kept his vow to her to utilize the Devils resources to locate an endometriosis specialist who would give Savannah answers and a better direction for her wellbeing.

Dr. Barnes was the first one they met with and Savannah instantly knew things were going to be different this time around. Dr. Barnes had a kind, empathetic, and solutions driven focus that made Savannah feel at ease immediately. She listened to Savannah’s entire story, took down diligent notes, asked follow up questions.  Within the same appointment, Dr. Barnes created a multilayered, holistic care plan, taking into consideration that Savannah did not want to go right to surgery.

The first thing they decided on was to take out Savannah’s IUD and switch her to birth control pills. There was concern the IUD was rubbing against portions of endometriosis which was exacerbating her symptoms. Savannah did feel better for a few months, but by month three, she was back to clutching her abdomen in the fetal position for days. They pivoted the treatment plan to a different kind of pill that other patients had success with, but when Savannah ended up in the ER again early in the summer, throwing up and passing out from the pain, it became clear that surgery was going to be the only option Savannah had for long-term relief. 

The day of her surgery, Lio kissed her in reassurance, then waved goodbye to her as she was wheeled out of pre-op and down the hall.

“I’ll be right here with you when you’re done, baby.” He had called to her before the doors separated them. Savannah nodded, trying to be brave for herself and Lio. Last time, she had to do this virtually alone. Her boyfriend at the time had shown up after she went in for surgery and then dropped her off at home before heading out with his friends for another round of golf. Her recovery was completely isolating except for a neighbor who checked in on Savannah once a day at Savannah’s request.

Lio Meier would never. 

Instead, he had a recovery suite set up in their bedroom for her. A quiet oasis where Savannah could relax and heal in her time. He has been there every step of the way, even at the moments when Savannah has pushed him away. She may be used to dealing with this alone, but Lio won’t let her go through this that way anymore.

Two weeks after her surgery, her and Lio went back to Dr. Barnes to get the findings of the surgery and tissue analysis. The news were mixed results. The good news was the spots they removed were consistent with Savannah’s previous surgery, meaning there was no new or extended growth in her endometriosis. The bad news was this confirmed that surgery is only successful for a limited amount of time, meaning Savannah will likely need several more surgeries down the line if this path continues for her. Dr. Barnes has encouraged Savannah to sit with this news and consider further permanent solutions such as a hysterectomy.

“What are my other options? I’m not ready for that.” She had asked with Lio’s hand tucked tightly against hers. His thumb stroked over the tendons on the top of her hand with assurance. He was here; they would get through this together.

The other recommendation was to go back to birth control, but a Progesterone only option. Dr. Barnes was shocked when Savannah said this was never given to her, even as a first line of treatment. It’s been four months now and Savannah has been feeling better than she could have imagined with her endometriosis. However, a severe drawback is that her pain has moved from her uterus and formulated in her head as three day long migraines when she is at the end of her cycle.

Everything costs something. That’s been the biggest lesson Savannah has learned through this journey.

But this weekend, none of that matters. Because Lio has a whole trip planned to celebrate his beautiful, strong fiancé, finally having answers and support that she deserved all along. He has been wanting to do this for months, but Savannah didn’t want to leave home until she had a clear understanding of how managed her endo was after surgery. The last thing she wanted was him to put together a perfect trip that ended with her in the ER from debilitating pain again.

Savannah is confident that won’t be happening this trip. She grins, feeling grateful for the peace of mind she has going into this fun weekend.

Lio’s Porsche points towards the southern tip of New Jersey. They are 2 hours into their 2.5 hour trip down to Cape May. The vastness of the ocean hints to their left off the Garden State Parkway the closer they get to town. Lio drives, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the pop song coming through Savannah’s Spotify. His other hand is on her thigh where she traces his fingers and the veins of his forearm.

“I wonder how busy it will be.”

“Probably not bad. School is back in session after winter break.” Lio reminds her.

“I’ve never been here in the winter months.”

“My mom took us down here a few times. It was mostly before the twins though.”

“How do you even remember that?” Savannah asks, looking over at him. He shrugs.

“I remember a lot of what we did with my mom. She was great at making it feel like we could still have fun even with how often my dad was gone.” Lio starts to chuckle. “Also I definitely pushed Livy in the ocean and got yelled at by my dad on FaceTime, so it was memorable.”

“Lee!” She chuckles. “You were terrible to her.”

“I know.” Lio cringes. “I’m trying to make up for it, okay?” He says as he takes the exit to head more east into town. 

They pull up to their airbnb, which is modern, but still a cozy cottage right on the ocean. They unpack their things, then walk into town to grab lunch at an all day breakfast diner. Lio needs a heavy, protein packed lunch with how hard he has been grinding this season.

“Did you come here as a kid too?” Savannah asks Lio as he looks over the menu in the blue booth.

“Yeah, but usually when we were with the Hischier’s. Mama and auntie had a hard time getting us all to behave when we were together, so we didn’t go to many upscale places.” 

“So basically you and Lucie would act out.” Savannah fills in the gap.

“Mack would too. She was wild as a kid. It wasn’t just us.”

“But mostly.” Savannah gives him a look like ‘don’t even pretend’. 

“Yeah, it was mostly us.” Lio laughs, then thanks the waitress for both of their coffees.

Lio nudges the bowl of cold cream packets towards Savannah. He likes this shitty, slightly burnt diner coffee black. A smirk stays on his lips as he reminisces on his childhood. He knows he is lucky to have grown up the way he did with such a strong family influence surrounding him. He opens his fingers up towards Savannah, taking her left hand in his. He strokes along her massive engagement ring, satisfied with where their life is going. 

“I’m really happy, babe.” He murmurs to her, then drags his gaze up her body to her stunning blue eyes that still make his heart skip a beat when they’re looking at him. 

“Me too.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.” He smirks.

“Make an honest woman out of me?”

“I think by marrying you, I’m doing the opposite.”

“You’ve cleaned yourself up quite nice, Mr. Meier. I’m proud to be your wife.”

“Only cause I had a good girl on my side.” He strokes his fingers up her forearm, watching the goosebumps that form along her skin at his gentle touch.

“Maybe I’ll be your good girl tonight too.”

“Better be. Didn’t bring you all the way down here to not get lucky.” 

“You’ll be very lucky by the end of this weekend.” She assures him. She grabs his fingers, bringing his wrist up to her mouth. She kisses his pulse, then moves to the side so she can suck some of the meat on his arm into her mouth. 

“You don’t need to eat, right?” He asks her, eyes smoldering across the table like he wants to toss her over his shoulder and walk back. She chuckles.

“I assure you I am hungry.” Lio groans, but so does his stomach, reminding him of the fuel he needs to take care of her the way he wants.

With that in mind, they both order. Savannah gets a classic breakfast- eggs, bacon and a pancake- while Lio gets steak and eggs with a side of hash browns. As she eats her first few bites, Savannah’s mind wanders back to Lio as a child, running through this restaurant with his siblings and cousins, probably driving their mamas crazy. Savannah thinks about how wiggly and impatient Stella Wood has been since she met her. She laughs outwardly.

“What?” Lio asks around a bite.

“Just thinking about how crazy it would be if Stella and our kid was tearing up this place like y’all used to.” Lio pauses mid-chew, looking over his fiancé to check in on how he should react. “I’m okay that we aren’t going to have that.” She says to him truthfully. “I like quiet breakfast with you- here or in bed. And getting to take naps in the afternoons whenever we want to and changing plans last minute to fly somewhere for a two day getaway.” She takes another bite, then continues after she swallows. “This journey has been so hard, Lio. Really hard and a lot of it really is stemming from how bad the physical pain has been. It’s made the emotional pain that much worse.” He nods in understanding.

“It’s exhausting to be in that much pain, babe. Especially with how little the world understands about how debilitating internal conditions can be.” Lio certainly understands that after his past concussion issues.

“Yeah. I feel so at peace right now. I want to live in the joyful moments that we are having without the anger and frustration of the things we are never going to have. Living there means I won’t ever live comfortably in the present. I don’t want to miss a moment of our life because of things I can’t change.” Lio drops his fork, grabbing her hand again and giving it a squeeze.

“I love you, babe. I’m so inspired by you. The way you have been handling all this is admirable. I wanna be as resilient and reflective and accepting as you.” Lio murmurs, then kisses her hand. 

“I was none of these things before you.” Savannah tells him honestly. “You’ve changed me too, Lee.” He smiles, a slight tilt up to the right corner of his mouth. “I believed I was broken and weak. Through the last year, you’ve shown me how strong and whole I am by loving me in every moment, even when I didn’t want to love me. You didn’t advocate to those specialists because you wanted to fix me. All you wanted was to give me back the life Endo had been taking from me.” 

“You’re perfect, baby.” He reminds her as he always does. “All I care about is going through life with you by my side. Everything else is just noise.” 

Savannah grins, then releases his hand so they can both go back to eating.

“Good. Now hurry up and eat. I wanna be your dessert.” 

- - -

March 

“Brrr!” Savannah exclaims as her and Lio shimmy into the lobby of Lucie and Connor’s high-rise condo building in Greenwich Village. “It’s supposed to be spring.” She grumbles as Lio leads them to the bank of elevators. 

“Yeah, what the hell is that?” He mumbles, a shiver rolling his shoulders up tight towards his ears for a moment.

“We should go back to Florida. Sweating my ass off at Disney was better than this.” She mentions, referring to their Allstar vacation from last month with the Woods.

“Your hair was so cute down there. You should do it curly like that more.” He chuckles, throwing an arm around her waist to pull her in for a smooch. “Smelled like coconut every day too. Reminds me of the Bahamas.” Savannah moans in appreciation as Lio sucks a slice of her neck into his mouth.

“Now that was a good trip.”

“Kid free too.” He chuckles against her wet skin.

They love their niece, but having their vacation determined by her schedule is not Lio’s favorite way to unwind in the middle of the season. Savannah and Lio already decided they were going to do their own thing for next Allstar break, granted that Lio isn’t actually at the Allstar game next year. This year the festivities were in Florida, which allowed them for a few extra days in Orlando with the Wood’s. Next year is in Seattle. Not quite the same experience.

“The way Stella kept getting you to do the tea cups with her though. That was so cute, babe.”

“I still feel like I’m spinning from that. I don’t know how she was so normal about it.”

“Stella is always twirling around in her own little world. Of course she was fine!” 

The elevator opens on the floor of the Wood’s condo, so Lio and Savannah step out.

“Are Mack and David coming today?”

“No.”

“They hate us?”

“I don’t know. They’ve been shut-ins since Mack returned from Turcs.” Lio gives Savannah a look. 

“I want their life.”

“No you don’t.” Lio laughs. “They’re crazy.” 

They get to the familiar steel door. Lio knocks briefly before grabbing the handle, opening it and walking into the apartment.

“Uncle Lee Lee!” Stella screams as she launches herself head first into his legs. Lio braces himself, putting a hand where it is needed most to avoid the direct head butt to his jewels. 

“Stelly!” He shouts back, swooping her up once it is safe to do so. “How is my favorite Wood?”

“Annnnnnd no steak for Uncle Lee.” Connor jokingly notes at the door where he is wearing his heavy duty, canvas cooking apron. He adjusts the leather neck strap as the couple walks in.

“Steak, eh?”

“Big ol’ Porterhouses for us.” 

“Nice.” Lio grins, bumping knucks with him as he walks into the apartment with Stella. Savannah has already floated in, bringing the two bottles of wine in for her and Lucie to get started on. 

“Good! I brought red wine!” Savannah announces. 

“Can I have some?” Stella asks, never wanting to be excluded ever, even from adult things. Stella and Lio come to rest next to Savannah with Lio leaning a hip into the counter beside her.

“No, silly.” Savannah chuckles, swiping her index finger down the little girl’s nose. “But I did bring you a special drink too.” Savannah pulls out the pink lemonade from Trader Joe’s that Stella loves along with a glittery pink tumbler she had to grab for her from Target’s $5 section.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Can I have some right now?! Mommy please!” Lucie looks over her shoulder from where she is putting together the salad. 

“Sure, baby.” She agrees. 

“Luc, you are working so hard. You absolutely need wine right now.” Savannah exclaims.

“I’m sticking with water tonight.” Lucie chuckles. “But feel free to have a little extra in commiseration with all this hard work I’m doing over here.”

“Yeah, working real hard over here now.” Connor teases as he struts into the kitchen. He pats Lucie’s butt, then kisses her cheek until she turns to kiss his lips. They linger there together, smiling into their kiss like they’re the only ones here. “She forgot to mention the nap she was taking before you two said you were on your way.”

“I am doing important work, Cap.” Lucie swats at his hip as he walks away.

“Yeah, you were the one keeping Stella in line earlier, with drool dripping off your face.”

“Look, she mostly takes after you, so you should have to deal with her.” Lucie grabs the bowl, walking it over to the table. 

“Yeah, sure that rebel phase you had doesn’t show up in our daughter at all. Speaking of taking after me, we better get you into something more comfortable to eat. Otherwise we’re gonna spill all over this pretty dress, huh?” Connor says to Stella, picking her up. 

“No, I’ll be good!”

“You know the rules, baby.” Connor nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, making Stella squeal at the facial hair tickling her soft skin. They disappear down the hall, Stella’s giggles following the entire way.

“So how are you guys?” Lucie asks as she washes her hands in the island sink. 

“Good! We’ve been busy.”

“I know! I can’t believe we haven’t seen you since Florida.”

“It has been crazy. I have had so many brand meetings and content to film. Plus, Lio was on the road for almost two weeks.”

“Do you miss it?” Lucie asks, walking to where the wine glasses rest in the bar by the dining room table. She comes back with a glass for Savannah

“No way. I like sleeping in my own bed way too much.” Savannah says after pouring herself a bit of wine. “Do you want some?” She asks her husband already knowing his answer.

“No.”

“Lee, do you even drink anymore?” Lucie asks genuinely.

“Not really.” Lio shrugs.

“He will have whiskey when we are out to a fancy dinner, but otherwise, no. I don’t even see you drink beer with your dad anymore.” Savannah says, rubbing at Lio’s back as she talks. He puts a hand on the back of her chair, enclosing her into his body, right where he likes her.

Out of her room, Stella comes running down the hallway to the three adults. Her dad trails behind casually with his hands in his pockets. 

“Look at me! Look at me! I have something to tell you!” Stella yells at her aunt and uncle. 

“Oh, well okay then.” Savannah laughs, turning her legs towards Lio to see her. Lio turns towards the little girl too, taking in her new outfit. She has on jeans, bright purple socks and a pink t-shirt with glittery, bold letters that spell out her new title: Big Sister.

Savannah freezes. Lio fingers drift from the back of the chair to squeeze her left shoulder, even as he grins down at their niece. A silent announcement that he is here for her in this moment.

“What does your shirt say!?” He exclaims. Stella screeches excitedly, then bounces up and down.

“BIG!!!!! SISTER!!!!!!” 

“And that’s you!?” He pokes her belly, making her collapse forward, hands on her belly button as she laughs so hard she can barely breathe.

“YEAH! Mommy is having a baby!”

Unexpected buzzing rings through Savannah’s ears as she attempts to stay grounded in the moment. Her hand falls from around Lio’s waist as he swoops Stella up onto his hip again, giving her a big hug. Savannah’s eyes trail away from Stella to Connor who is sharing an adoring look with his wife. Savannah turns to look at Lucie, the mom to be again, who is holding out an ultrasound picture to place in Lio’s extended hand.

And it hits Savannah all over again, as overwhelming as the first time she felt this.

Her and Lio will never get to have this moment in the other direction.

They will never get to hold up an ultrasound picture with their baby growing in Savannah’s body. 

They will never get to cheer and hug and cry excitedly with them about their baby. It will always be someone else’s. 

Never. Hers. 

A tidal wave of grief Savannah hasn’t experienced in a long time rushes at her. A sob gets caught in her throat. Stella looks over Lio’s shoulder at her, confused.

“Auntie! Did you see!?” Instinctually, Savannah nods, licking her lips. Her eyes drift to Lio and there it is: the pity. And the worry. And the ‘are you okay?’ In his eyes that makes her want to throw up. She looks away quickly. 

“I’m…” Lucie starts then fades off, looking at Lio with concern. “I’m sorry, I know this is probably hard to hear for you. We wanted to tell you privately in consideration…”

“No! What? No, absolutely not! Please don’t apologize. I am so happy for you! We are so happy for you! That’s all I feel right now. So happy.” She finishes with a whisper, rounding the counter to give Lucie a hug. The two women collapse together. Lucie hugs Savannah hard, making it increasingly difficult for Savannah to keep all of her feelings locked away in her chest.

“You’re okay?” Lucie asks quieter, just between the two of them.

“Stop worrying about me. Congratulations! When are you due?” 

“September 3rd.”

“Long, hot summer mama.” Savannah smiles like she can relate somehow. But she can’t and won’t.

“Yeah. I didn’t learn from last time.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“I was so sick until about a week ago. Still tired though. And then as you saw, I have the best support system in my husband, so loving and wonderful, as he makes fun of me for it!” Connor laughs.

“You know I’m teasing you, baby.” 

“I grow his child; he gives me crap for sleeping…” Lucie smirks, watching as Connor narrows his eyes at her.

“You know I take care of you.” He says, pressing his palms flat on the stone of their kitchen island. He sets his gaze on her, challenging his wife to say otherwise in front of company. 

“Yes, you do. Couldn’t do this without you.” She murmurs truthfully. 

“I should have brought champagne.” Savannah says, then looks down at her glass of red wine to continue collecting herself. 

“How about when she is born you bring me some in the hospital? Sneak it in for me.” Lucie smiles assuringly at her. 

“Another girl?” Lio gapes at Connor. “You are so fuc- well you know what.” Lio corrects himself to avoid having to pay up to Stella’s Swear Jar. Connor widens his eyes and nods. He holds up two fingers then circles towards Lucie. Yeah two Lucie’s will be an exciting life for the Wood’s.

The group moves forward, discussing the various topics that come up when you find out a new baby is joining the pack. Other family members don’t know yet, so Lio and Savannah agree to keep it quiet until told otherwise. Savannah tries to participate in the daydreaming about what is to come for their little family, but her heart isn’t in it.

It’s on the floor, shattered like glass, ready for another round of glue and duct tape whenever she can gather the courage to put herself back together again.

[astroels]

Ellie with a s/o on their period who just really wants some comfort from their favorite girl and is also super emotional (I’m a crybaby)😭

I’d kill to have comfort from Ellie cause these cramps are killing me😫

──── ·  · · ✦ -𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝- ✦ ·  ·  · ────

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/n: this is mostly self indulgent on how I experience my period (I'm also a crybaby)

Apocalyptic!au

When you would mention to Ellie that you got your period, she knew what things she'd have to do. For one, your cramps were excruciating. Any movement made it feel like your stomach was stabbing itself. The only sense of relief you felt was warmth or laying down when it got that bad. Ellie would definitely snake her arms around you in bed when she could to place her hand on your lower belly to try and give you relief.

"Els, it hurts so bad, have we used up our pain relievers for the month?" You'd be laying on your side, in a somewhat fetal position, trying to soothe the ache.

"We have." Ellie would scooch closer, you could feel her warmth radiating off her chest. "but it'll be okay, sweet girl." Ellie snaked her hand under your shirt and place it on your lower abdomen. The warmth from her hands seemed to unravel the nerves that had tensed.

You both slept in that position of Ellie holding your belly and adjusting her position to whenever you adjusted yours for your better comfort.

You never had to worry about your period products being out of stock in the farmhouse. About every three weeks, Ellie made it her personal mission to stock up, knowing that your flow fluctuated from heavy to light whenever it felt like it.

"Ellieee," You'd yell from the restroom, streching out the 'e'.

She'd simply reply with a yelled "Yes?" from where she was

"Do y'know where the pads areee?" was your loud response. Ellie, not wanting to yell, would just come up to the restroom. She'd give a quick knock and come in. "Left 'em in the cabinet," She'd get them for you, seeing you weren't in the position to get up from the toilet.

"Here y'go," You'd give her a cheeky smile. "What would I do without you?" It was a rhetorical question, but you knew how much your words made Ellie feel appreciated.

Sometimes, your period made you too sensitive to everything around you. It could be from the way your shirt felt on you, to the way the object touching your back when you sat down felt. The slightest irritation brought tears to your eyes, you couldn't do anything to help it.

You sat on the couch, teary eyed, as you had tried to clean beforehand, but managed to step on a pin and knock down a glass of water in the process. Almost everything was going wrong, but Ellie was outside, and you didn't want to bother her. Your solution was to cry it out on the couch, waiting for the irritation to leave.

Ellie walked in within a minute, "the sheep were chatty today," she said casually. Once Ellie walked out of the kitchen, looking at you on the couch, hold yourself, she quickly made her way to you. "Hey, what's wrong babe," her voice softening as she sat down and soothed your back.

Your voice came out hoarse, "I d'know Ellie, almost everything." You turned your body to face her, laying your head on the crook of her shoulder, still crying.

Ellie switched her arms around to be cradling you, adjusting to your new position. She played with your hair, made patterns on your skin with her fingers, anything to soothe you. You just held onto her, going comfort in the moment.

"It's okay, baby, it'll be alright." Ellie softly spoke. You loved the gentle way she was with you during times like this

Even if there were many daily events that you and Ellie participated in the farm, she would do the majority of them on your heavy days. She'd let you sleep in, with breakfast in bed. You'd complain just a little, not wanting to be useless. She'd offer you just patch up some clothes in bed, or do some light cleaning, but with breaks she'd encourage.

While Ellie quickly went to fetch the laundry from the clothesline, you decided you wanted to move the coffee table just a little to align better with the fireplace. You started with moving the single armchair to get it out of the way, but Ellie came whilst moving it and rushed towards you.

"Babe." She looked you in the eye to express her exaggeration. "You know you're gonna feel the ache tomorrow even worse, right?" You loudly sighed. "No, I won't, Ellie. I'm a capable woman."

"You are, but I can already hear your complains of your feet and back hurting." She mimicked you isn't a joking tone, you just laughed and playfully hit her. You knew she'd still practically be at your beck and call. "C'mon, we can do it together."

Ellie was gentle with you, and even when it did get rough, she always gave you sweet words of encouragement. Her touch melted into every crack you created within yourself. As playful and rough she could be, you softened her like playdough in your hands.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

👀👀👀💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻👀👀👀

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞(i'm so excited for this i can hardly stand it😩)

Also yay new cranberry fic🤗

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

Thanks so much cal!💋

Yay thank you!!!!!!!!!!

30 for 💪🏻:

---

And before Eddie can sneak away and come up with literally any other plan, Buck sees him. 

Buck catches Eddie standing outside the gym area, having stopped dead in his tracks on his way to the locker room, practically staring holes into Buck’s biceps. Which are currently engaged in rather distracting curls. When he notices Eddie, Buck grins. He sets the weight down, straightens back up, and turns towards Eddie. 

Sweat is making his shirt stick to his chest a little more than it normally would. Which is already a lot. The outline of his chest is very… Well, it’s outlined. 

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck grins. “You’re here early.”

Shit. Fuck. Eddie feels like he’s been caught looking at a dirty magazine or something. Because the thing is, Eddie has only ever come early to do this one before and Buck knows why. Buck has to know that he’s feeling… Sexually complicated. 

“Uh… Yeah. Thought I’d get a workout in before shift,” Eddie says. Technically the truth. “Guess I wasn’t the only one with the idea.”

“Guess not,” Buck agrees. There’s a wolfish sort of look in his smile. Like he’s sizing Eddie up.

Eddie swallows. 

“I can go,” he offers. 

“Why would you do that?” Buck asks.

Fuck. Fuck.

“If you wanted to be alone,” Eddie explains.

---

36 for 🔼:

---

Buck sits and shivers and waits and hopes that they aren’t too late.

At least they got to Shannon and Chris first. That’s the main thing. He hopes they’re both okay. That they didn’t get injured in his absence. And what about the baby? Surely a tsunami has got to have consequences on fetal development. What if there’s something wrong with her? Buck couldn’t live with that. 

He’s getting sleepy, kept awake mostly by the anxiety and the cold gnawing at him, when Bobby finally calls out to him. 

“Okay, Buck,” he says, voice fuzzy and farther away than he really is. “We have a solution.” 

“A solution?” Buck asks. 

“Yeah,” Bobby confirms. “We’ve got a way to keep the Jeep elevated using the boat and some chains. But it’s only going to last a few seconds.” 

Oh. Buck has to move fast. He’s feeling kind of slow, though. 

“What do I do?” Buck asks. 

“Just get as close to the opening as possible, and when we move the dumpster, I’m going to grab you, and we’re going to move quick, okay?” 

“Okay,” Buck says. “I can do that.”

“Alright,” Bobby says. “That’s good. Count of five, okay?” 

“Okay.”

Buck shuffles right to the crack of light, leaning into it as much as possible. 

“Five, four…” 

Buck takes a deep breath. 

“Three, two…”

He braces himself. 

“One.”

---

75 for 🪞:

---

Buck’s pretty sure he was explicitly told not to let Chris win every game they ever played together. What will that teach him? Had been the logic. Buck sees how it is. Not so easy when it’s not your kid.

“I’m really good, Eddie says,” Dove announces proudly. 

“I bet you are,” Buck smiles at her. “Hey, maybe you can kick my butt at Go Fish later, but right now, I need to talk to Eddie for a second. Is that okay?”

Dove nods. “Okay. Can I watch TV?’

“Yep, go for it,” Buck replies. 

She heads to the living room and Buck asks Eddie to step out onto the porch with him for a second. He doesn’t want Dove to overhear them.

“Thank you for watching her, Eddie,” Buck starts. “I really appreciate it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “God, Buck. Of course. I don’t just owe you one - I owe you potentially a hundred.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Buck replies. “I was panicking. Watching Chris was never transactional.”

“I know,” Eddie says. “Seriously, I know.”

Buck takes a deep breath. He still feels like his heart is racing. He doesn’t know why. 

“She’s a great kid,” Eddie says. 

Buck relaxes a bit. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Totally meant to be yours,” Eddie says.

Buck’s cheeks heat. “Uh, you think?”

“Weird about animals, competitive, and sweet? Yeah. Your kid.”

Buck could cry. 

“I really miss you,” he says.

Eddie looks at his feet. “I miss you, too. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. “I didn’t even think… I know it’s got to be really hard to be around other kids right now. I… If I pressured you, or-”

“That’s not it,” Eddie interjects.

“It’s not?” Buck asks. 

“I mean, kind of,” Eddie concedes. “But it’s not the only reason.”

“Okay,” Buck mumbles. “Uh, did something happen?”

Eddie shakes his head. His eyes look a little misty.

“I just don’t want this to get fucked up for you.”

Buck blinks. “Wait. What?” 

“Buck… My kid left me. Still hardly talks to me. Christopher… It’s my fault he’s gone. Maybe… I mean, maybe it’s better if-”

“No,” Buck nearly snaps. 

Eddie closes his mouth.

“Eddie, no. Are you insane? You’ve known her for an afternoon and she’s already more comfortable with you than most adults she’s met. You’re amazing and… And, no offense? You can’t fuck this up for me, Eddie. Only I can do that.”

---

21 for 🦮:

---

There’s a long pause after that, where no one seems to know what to say. Albert, bless him, jumps in. 

“What’s it like driving that far in an RV?” He asks. “That sounds exciting!”

“Statistically speaking, it seemed the safest way to travel right now,” Phillip says. Which really doesn’t answer Albert’s question at all. But that would involve accessing human emotions.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to take any chances, given Maddie’s condition,” Margaret adds. “And it being a high-risk pregnancy.”

Eddie shifts a little uncomfortably. From what Buck gathers, he has some experience with judgmental parents criticizing a pregnant woman. 

Maddie frowns. 

“Well, no,” Chimney says. “It’s not really high-risk-”

“Oh, she’s over thirty-five,” Margaret doubles down. “That puts her at a higher risk. So we all need to be extra careful.”

“The baby’s fine, Mom,” Maddie says. 

“But you don’t want to take any chances,” their mother continues. “Not when you’ve waited this long.”

[gatheringbones]

[“The fact remains that the most effective long-term solutions to protecting and empowering victims of abuse are policy changes that would grant victims reliable access to health care, housing, livable income, paid sick leave, child care, and safety from criminalization. Yet bureaucratic impediments on the federal level, lack of leadership from Democrats as a serious “opposition party” against Republicans, and general inaction have stalled meaningful, nationwide, progressive economic legislation for decades. As a result, too many victims are forced to stay in dangerous, traumatizing relationships solely for economic reasons, in a country where poverty can be a death sentence, and those who experience poverty are disproportionately policed for “survival crimes”—what we call being punished by the state for its own failure to invest in community resources, and its reliance on commodifying and profiting off incarcerating the most vulnerable.

Despite how frequently cases of rape and domestic abuse are invoked to justify policing and prisons, women who are victims of abuse face more severe punishment for “enabling” child abuse, pregnancy loss, or even surviving abuse, broadly, than their abusers do. The many documented cases of this include Marshae Jones, a Black woman in Alabama who was jailed for fetal homicide in 2019 after miscarrying from being shot in the stomach. Sex workers who report being victimized are disbelieved and often criminalized by police officers themselves (a 2007 study found 44 percent of police officers said they were unlikely to believe a report of rape from a sex worker), while the rapes and sexual violence cases of Black and Indigenous women and girls are chronically ignored by police departments and media.

Victims of abuse with the least resources and social capital are more likely to face punishment than anything else when they seek help from authorities, rendering it more likely they would seek criminalized means to protect or provide for themselves. In too many documented cases that disproportionately implicate people of color, pregnant people are criminally charged for ostensibly endangering fetuses—for example, due to substance use struggles—and even prior to the overturning of Roe, for self-managed abortions. Many pregnant people have faced charges or incarceration for miscarriage or stillbirth, and even for harms inflicted on them while they were pregnant, like Marshae Jones.

This is in part because about forty states have feticide laws that were written with the intention of protecting pregnant people from domestic violence. It’s an important crisis to address, given how high homicide rates targeting pregnant people are. Yet all too often, feticide laws are co-opted and misused by anti-abortion activists and prosecutors to criminally charge pregnant people who lose their pregnancies. Misuse of fetal homicide laws has contributed to the nearly 1,300 criminal charges for pregnancy loss doled out between 2006 and 2020 alone—a number that’s tripled from 1973 to 2005, according to research from Pregnancy Justice. Let’s not forget that it’s police officers who are the primary enforcers of abortion bans, a role they’ve enthusiastically stepped into: In February 2022 the city of Louisville paid a police officer $75,000 in settlement fees almost a year after the officer was suspended for protesting outside a local abortion clinic while armed and in uniform. After being suspended with pay for almost half a year in 2021, the officer sued the city for supposedly violating his constitutional rights while off-duty and discriminating against him for his “pro-life” views. The incident is part of a long history of police officers either ignoring or enabling violent anti-abortion protesters at clinics, and apparently even joining protesters themselves.

Fetal homicide laws are just one example of legislation that accords unborn fetuses with legal personhood rights, resulting in extensive legal risks for pregnant people, and particularly those who experience abuse. Dana Sussman, deputy executive director of Pregnancy Justice, told me in 2022 that there’s “simply no way to grant fetuses ‘personhood rights’ without subjugating the rights of pregnant people by creating a false tension between the rights of the fetus and the rights of a pregnant person.” When a pregnant person’s “rights are secondary to the fetus, or at odds with the fetus, that lends to an environment in which violence—whether it’s state violence like imprisonment, or interpersonal violence—can be committed against pregnant people with far less accountability.”]

kylie cheung, from survivor injustice: state-sanctioned abuse, domestic violence, and the fight for bodily autonomy, 2023