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carlsdarling · 1 year ago

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We need a 3 of no mercy please I beg of you

No Mercy Part III

Many requests for this 😊 The love-hate-story between Carl and Negan's daughter continues... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, angst, abortion theme, unprotected sex

You had been back in the sanctuary for a few weeks now. After your period failed to start and the nausea continued, you panicked and took a count. Your periods had never been regular, but now you came to the conclusion that you hadn't bled in at least eight or nine weeks. The last time you had bled was before you had slept with Carl for the first time, that time behind the horse stables. Anyone who wasn't completely naive could have figured it out sooner: You were pregnant. You sat in your room and sobbed desperately. Under no circumstances must your father find out about it.

No, you could not have this baby. There was not even a doctor in the sanctuary since your father had burned the last one alive. In your distress, you sought out Amber, who - at least that was your assumption - knew about such things. "Amber, I'm pregnant," you said straightforwardly.

She looked at you with widened eyes. "It's not really true, is it? You're kidding."

"No, it's true." You burst into tears.

Amber quickly locked the door to her room. "Okay, and who's it from?"

"It's Carl's. Carl Grimes," you confessed, embarrassed.

"What!" exclaimed Amber in horror. "Oh my god, Y/N. Negan is going to flay you and Carl alive."

"He mustn't know, Amber, I can't have this baby!" Full of panic, you clutched her thin wrist. "What can I do?"

"How do you feel about Carl?" inquired Amber sympathetically. "Was it just a one-night stand, or...?"

It took you a long time to answer. "No, it was... more. I hated him like hell in the beginning," you said pensively. "We still had sex on and off, and it was great. But then... Carl is... he's so special. I think maybe I've grown to like him. A little bit, at least." Sheepishly, you played with the bed covers. "But it's not mutual, unfortunately," you then added sadly.

"Too bad," was all Amber said, "Carl's got guts, and he's handsome, too. It was very brave of him to break into the Sanctuary back then. He'll make a good leader someday." You had never thought of it that way - to you, Carl's action had just been stupid and careless. Now you realized that Amber was right and how courageous Carl was; even all the other times he had rebelled against Negan, even though Negan was much older and stronger than Carl was. He had never let your father intimidate him. Not even when Negan wanted Rick to cut off his arm. "Didn't you use any protection?"

"Well, sometimes not," you evaded, hiding from her that Carl's breeding kink had been part of your mutual attraction. You yourself had loved the feeling of him lavishly spilling his seed into you, and now you were receiving the reward. Somehow you had assumed that nothing would happen. Which had been stupid, of course.

„How long is it since your last period?“

"More than two months," you mumbled.

Amber took a deep breath. "That's too late for the morning-after pill. Way too late."

Frantically, you considered, "What other options are there?"

"Without a doctor? Hardly any, unless you want to die trying to get an abortion," Amber clarified to you relentlessly.

You cried again. "But there must be something! Herbs, something! Wait." An idea had occurred to you. You walked over to Amber's closet and pulled out a wire coathanger. "I saw this in a movie once. You have to help me."

"No, Y/N. Oh no. Forget it," Amber fought back. "You're going to bleed to death, and it's my fault."

"Like you just said, Amber. My father is going to kill me. Please," you pleaded.

She relented against her knowledge. "All right, same time tomorrow, here. Katya will be back soon. And I can't promise you it'll work, and it'll be painful as fuck." You nodded in embarrassment and fear. The danger of dying during an amateurishly performed abortion was real.

***

You went back to your room and wept. You didn't want to abort Carl's baby, that was the truth. You constantly saw Carl's cute face in front of you, heard his mocking remarks, felt his hot breath on your skin. You were dreaming of him. You were longing for him. You might as well admit it to yourself: You loved Carl Grimes, and you missed him sorely. And now you were carrying his child, and that couldn't be. You'd probably never see each other again, and either way Carl wouldn't want a baby with you, let alone a relationship.

But everything turned out differently than planned. When you went to dress yourself the next morning, your father burst into your room without knocking as you stood there in your underwear. Horrified, you stared at him, unable to cover yourself. Negan's gaze immediately captured your swollen breasts and ever so slightly bulging belly. His eyebrows rose, then he averted his eyes in bewilderment. "Come to my office immediately when you are dressed," he ordered expressionlessly.

You were standing in front of him with a palpitating heart. "Whose is it?" he demanded to know harshly. "It can only have happened in Alexandria, you are already starting to show, and you were vomiting on the ride over here." Angrily, he marched back and forth.

"It... it's from Carl," you said in a low voice.

Your father eyed you, stunned. "Please what?" he then shouted. "You were spreading your legs for the future serial killer? Unbelievable," he laughed bitterly.

"No, it wasn't like that, it..."

"What do you mean? Did he rape you?" he asked lurkingly.

"No!" you said firmly. If Negan believed that, he wouldn't rest until he had killed Carl. "No. It was... consensual." Your face reddened.

„Fuck it“, Negan ruffled his hair, perplexed. "Get your bag and come along," he then ordered, grabbing your arm and dragging you outside. There he gestured for you to get in the car.

"But what..." you started.

"We're driving to Alexandria," Negan announced grimly. "Let's see what fucking Carl Grimes has to say about this. And Rick, under whose roof you've been living." The ride passed in silence, except that once again you felt nauseous. You were tense and anxious, unable to gauge what your father was up to and how things would proceed. Finally, the Alexandria gate appeared in front of you; the guards immediately got into position when they recognized Negan. He got out and raised his hands in the air. "I want to talk to Rick," he demanded. "You see, I'm not armed." It wasn't long before Rosita and Daryl escorted you both to Rick's house. You hadn't seen Carl in so long, your heart pounded excitedly and somehow you felt an anxious anticipation mixed with fear.

Rick gazed open-mouthed at you and asked you into the kitchen in a reserved manner. "I thought we had everything settled for now," he said icily to Negan. "So why are you stalking us again?"

"Well, it's not my fault," Negan replied aggressively. At that moment, Carl entered the kitchen, closely followed by Enid. They held hands, and you quickly looked down at the floor. You never thought it would hurt so much, although you should have expected him to find another girl. He probably loved Enid - he had never loved you. Carl looked from one to the other in surprise.

"I don't understand," Rick said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, it's about Y/N and Carl," Negan replied with a cutting tone. "I assumed Y/N was safe under your roof! You personally guaranteed her safety!“

Rick began to look more and more confused. To him, you seemed to be in good health; a little pale, perhaps. "Enid, go home. Carl, you stay here," he then ordered in a bossy voice. Enid kissed Carl goodbye and disappeared with her head down. "Now speak up," he then turned to Negan. "Will you stop talking in riddles?" You and Carl exchanged a cautious, uncertain look.

"These two here got it going!" accused Negan at him. "Carl fucked my daughter. In your house, Rick! Don't tell me you didn't notice!"

Rick was scratching his head, perplexed and surprised. "I actually didn't, you'll have to take my word for that, Negan," he then muttered. "I just noticed that they liked each other - even if they denied it. But what the hell, they're teenagers, it's only normal for them to engage in sexual experiences, you can't help it, and..."

"Y/N is pregnant!" yelled Negan. "Your scumbag of a son made her a baby!"

Now Rick was left speechless, and Carl looked completely shocked, while you started crying miserably. No one wanted this baby but you, and everyone saw you and the pregnancy as a problem, an inconvenience. Rick grabbed Carl's wrist. "Carl! Is this true?" he asked sharply.

Carl widened his eye, overwhelmed. "I, uhm, well... it's true, we had sex." His cheeks were bright red with bashfulness.

"And did you use protection, yes or no?" barked Rick angrily, while Negan watched the whole thing with his eyebrows furrowed.

Meanwhile, Michonne entered the kitchen. "What's going on?" she wanted to know in wonder. "What's he doing here?" Accusingly, she pointed at Negan.

Rick paid no attention to her, he focused on Carl. "Yes or no, Carl?" he insisted.

"No," the latter admitted sheepishly, looking down at his shoes.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rick groaned, letting go of Carl and sinking into a chair, cradling his face in his hands. "Carl and Y/N slept with each other without using protection, and now Y/N is pregnant," he informed Michonne. "Carl, are you fucking nuts?" he then hissed in anger. "We did give you the talk on time, didn't we?"

"Now don't all pick on Carl," you timidly spoke up. "It's just as much my fault."

"Yes, indeed, it is!" your father snapped at you. "Are you too dumb to know about condoms?"

"I didn't think you'd be so irresponsible and stupid," Rick stated, shaking his head, looking at you and Carl in disbelief.

"Stop arguing now," Michonne intervened. "That's pointless. What's more important is how to proceed. How far along are you, Y/N?"

"I don't know," you said shyly. "Maybe by the tenth week?"

"We could ask Denise if abortion is still an option," Rick reasoned.

"And take the risk that Y/N won't survive it? Your Denise is not a surgeon," Negan objected. Carl remained silent.

"Y/N, what do you want? And Carl, what do you say?" Michonne looked from one to the other. "You both made this baby, after all."

"I... would it be possible for me to talk to Y/N alone?" asked Carl hesitantly. Your hands grew sweaty with stress.

Rick and Negan looked at each other. "Alright," Negan then conceded suspiciously. "But only where I can keep an eye on you guys."

The two of you went outside and stopped in front of each other not far from the kitchen window. "Ummm... so you're pregnant," Carl noted uneasily, nibbling his fingernails. So now was the time he would tell you that he felt nothing for you - nothing positive, anyway - that his heart belonged to Enid and he wanted nothing to do with the baby.

You tried not to cry as you said, "Yes. And before you start doubting it, yes, it's yours, Carl!" you added, hurt. "I have not been with anybody else but you."

He looked at you in amazement. "I know," he said, touching your cheek lightly. "I... I thought about you a lot when you were gone," he then explained, suddenly looking deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I know you don't feel the same way, but I missed you," he said softly.

"And... and Enid?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

Carl sighed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said unhappily. "Enid's awesome, but... I simply can't forget you."

"Carl, I like you," you blurted out, starting to sob after all. "I like you a lot, in fact."

He smiled delightedly. Carefully, he took your hands. "Could you imagine being with me? That we'd have the baby together?" You nodded tearfully. "Then come on, we'll tell them."

"You guys want to do what?" exclaimed Rick.

"We want to be together," Carl confirmed. "In fact, we like each other. I'm going to break up with Enid, and I'm going to take care of my kid."

Michonne, Rick and Negan looked at each other, wordless and baffled. Negan was the first to regain his composure. "All right, you're both coming with me to the Sanctuary then," he decided.

"That's out of the question," Rick immediately objected.

"We don't even have a doctor," you said reproachfully to your father. "And I want to stay here with Carl." Negan shook his head stubbornly. "We're not coming with you," you said petulantly.

"Y/N needs medical attention," Michonne pointed out.

Negan pondered. "All right," he finally relented. "Actually, I don't want the future serial killer in Sanctuary either," he growled with a sideways glance at Carl, who was nervously fiddling with his flannel shirt. "He's just stirring everyone up. But for now, just until Y/N gives birth. Then we'll see." Carl and you fell into each other's arms relieved.

Later in Carl's room, you finally gave in to your desire for each other and embraced. Carl stared raptly at the tiny bulge of your belly. "It's hard to believe you're really pregnant by me," he said astounded, touching your belly.

"Did you fuck Enid?" you wanted to know. The thought of it hurted you.

"Let's not talk about Enid," Carl dodged the question and kissed you again. "I'll talk to her first thing tomorrow. I hope she understands."

And I hope it doesn't turn out that Enid is also expecting now, you thought darkly.

"Carl, if... if we have sex now like we always do, it could harm the baby," you remarked fearfully.

He gave you a naughty grin. "Also, even though we're both into hard sex, we can do it gently for a while," he suggested. You kissed and moved to the bed, where you slowly undressed and caressed each other. Carl looked at you lovingly. "I've missed you so much," he whispered, as he lay carefully on top of you.

You couldn't wait to feel him inside you. "I missed you too," you said, spreading your legs for him. „I want you so badly, Carl.“

"Yeah, I can tell," Carl teased you, "You're soaking my entire bed right now." He propped himself up on his elbows and tenderly penetrated you, looking deep into your eyes while slowly pounding in you.

You arched your back in delight as he eagerly thrusted into you. "Oh, Carl," you breathed into his ear. "It's so good." Carl looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, all slick with your moisture and his precum. It was an incredibly arousing sight. He unfolded your labia with his index finger and changed his position slightly, so that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, driving you completely insane. "Carl," you whimpered, kissing his neck and ear. "Faster, please," you gasped, and Carl increased his pace until he was ramming his cock into you fiercely and you cried out as you cum and reared up under him, wrapping your legs around him.

Carl gave you two more orgasms so that you were just a quivering, begging mess, then he moaned loudly. "I'm cumming," he sighed, and his cum filled you warmly, there was so much that it immediately leaked out of you again, staining the already wet and sticky sheets.

You lay together relaxing and stroking each other. Carl's heart was beating a fast rhythm, and you remembered the day when you feared he was dead. "I was really afraid then that you were dead or turned," you said softly. "I couldn't have stand it."

"And I thought you really hated me and didn't reciprocrate my feelings," he admitted. "Yet I was already in love with you. I couldn't admit it, though." He smiled wryly.

"Carl?" you asked after a while, as you lay snuggled together, enjoying your intimacy and being so close to each other.

"Huh?" he replied sleepily.

"May I see your eye?"

He sat up, suddenly appearing to be tense. "Um... why?" he hesitated.

"Well, now that we live together and everything... you don't have to hide it from me anymore," you said softly. „It's certainly not good for the scar if you keep it bandaged at night, just because you're shy in front of me.“

With shaky fingers, Carl fiddled with the bandage, then dropped his hands again. "Y/N? Please, don't say anything spiteful about it," he pleaded. "Whether you really mean it or not, I don't care. Just don't do it." You had never before seen Carl so vulnerable. "I know it looks gross."

You hugged him tightly; you wanted him to feel safe with you. "Carl, it doesn't matter. I don't care what it looks like. It’s ok." He precariously took off the bandage without glancing at you. Well, it wasn't the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, but it was part of him, and you didn't mind. You would soon get used to the sight, and then it would just be normal. Not beautiful, not hideous, just normal.

"It... it looks nasty, doesn't it?" he asked anxiously.

"It does look bad ass," you said honestly. "But seriously, I don't give a fuck, and I don't think it's ugly. I love you, Carl.“ You pressed your smooth cheek against his right, maimed one.

He hugged you back with relief. "I love you too, Y/N." His lips touched yours.

___

Taglist:

@genshinsbiggestsimp

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes imagines

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cultivating-wildflowers · 10 months ago

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hi there !! i was over here because you had reblogged a really pretty photograph a while ago and i wanted to see what other lovely posts you might've found in the corners of tumblr.

i looked at your account and noticed, oh, pro-life! i was a bit wary at first because many people i've seen as pro-life are misogynistic sexist idiots who say it's a woman's fault if she's raped, even if the 'woman' in question is a fourteen year old girl. i hope you forgive my initial scepticism.

however, i read your post on the pro-life argument with the way you see it (it may have been a reblog of someone else? i can't quite remember) and i have some questions. i myself am pro-abortion, but with certain restrictions (mainly the current law in many places of you can't abort the child a month before birth because it's a human, and that aborting a child for its disabilities isn't ethical in the slightest).

what about when a twelve year old child is raped? is she meant to carry the strain of a child, scorn from parents, lack of support, blame, maybe have permanent harm or disabilities from childbirth? i have an old friend who got her menstrual cycle at eight years old. if she were raped, would she need to carry the child? in my worldview, no. a child gets raped and then the next day the "morning after" pill is administered so an elementary schooler (or middle, or even high schooler) does not have to suffer.

another question: sometimes, conception happens hours or even days after the actual ejaculation. would a "morning after" pill be outlawed? because there's no way to be sure if conception has actually happened, and if it hasn't, then taking a pill or some other action to prevent conception from happening in the first place isn't "bad".

and what about women whose children died in the womb? would anti-abortion laws still apply, would she charged with murder?

what about women who due to an illness or some other reason cannot have a child because they will die in the process, killing them and the child? would the pro-life worldview condemn both lives, or would they allow this person to take a pill and cut off the few cells that could not in any world be called a human?

if some vile person killed a woman who had conceived two days prior, would they be charged with double murder for that which is not yet a blastocyst (the zygote phase is four to five days after conception).

so sorry for putting this big chunk of text in your askbox, and feel free to ignore it, but you're one of the first genuinely nice people i've seen that is pro life who isn't trying to justify arguments with religion (because separation of church and state means no religion as sole justification for law, which is what many people i've seen try to do)

thank you!!

Hello! Thank you so much for your detailed questions! I'm happy to answer as best I can. I had thought this might take a while to answer, because I had to find a few resources I knew I had linked somewhere that helped me as I was sorting through the logistics of my own convictions surrounding being pro-life. Turns out this was how I'd spend my evening, lol.

I still have gaps and I'm always happy for civil discussion. (As you know, a lot of my thoughts are under my pro-life tag. Apologies in advance that several of my links just shoot back to posts I've reblogged, but they're more comprehensive than a single webpage. I can also direct you to a couple of tumblr folks I follow who have even more resources and cover different facets of the issue than I usually reblog or that I'm still investigating.)

As you might have guessed, this got long, so I'm tucking it under a read-more. But before I do, here is my most important resource: What actually happens during an abortion. I rarely say anything is so important that everyone needs to see it. This is one of those times.

i was over here because you had reblogged a really pretty photograph a while ago and i wanted to see what other lovely posts you might've found in the corners of tumblr.

The funny thing is that used to be 90% of my blog until like two years ago, and now here we are 😅 (I lost a lot of followers when I started actually using this like a blog. I also found a lot of great friends.)

Yeah, can't say I'd care to associate with those people, either, and I'd love to challenge them on their own convictions (only, 1. I'm not really one for heated debates and 2. I'm pretty sure I, a single 20-something woman, would be immediately ignored, so why waste my time).

While I was born and raised in a pro-life family, being pro-life as an adult is a conviction I claim and have searched out for myself. I know, and science affirms, that life begins at conception. (Yes, all of those frozen embryos stored at ivf clinics are unique and full human beings. I'll be so honest with you and say even I have to grapple with that and no, I haven't begun to grasp the implications.) Every single human being is deserving of dignity, from womb to tomb. It is never permissible to murder a human being for being inconvenient. (Canadian and British government healthcare systems, I'm looking at you. Also, Iceland, I see your claim that you've eradicated Down syndrome and I know you're a bunch of lying cowards.) It is never permissible to murder someone because they have the potential to be inconvenient. I could be hit by a car tomorrow and end up with brain damage. I could lose my job and plunge into horrible poverty. I could meet some random guy and end up in an abusive relationship. If it's not ok to kill me because of less-than-ideal circumstances, it is not ok to kill a child because they might be born disabled, or into a poor family, or into an abusive situation. We need to fix their circumstances, not kill them.

(Before I get much further, this post is a collection of a lot of my favorite resources on the impact abortion has on women. More facts and figures here. Unfortunately I cannot find the link to the study, but I have seen it cited often on here that a large majority of women who considered abortion but did not go through with it, within five years, are glad they didn't get an abortion. I believe the number is between 90 and 95% but again, can't find the link.)

For the last eight years, I've worked at an organization that provides care for individuals with disabilities, many of whom have the sort of disabilities that would make doctors suggest abortion. Not one of those human beings would be better off dead. The world is richer for them being in it, and I'm happy to know them. They deserve support and dignity, not death.

There is no magical point at which a preborn baby becomes human or becomes a person. They are human from the moment of conception. I have a friend who was born nearly two months prematurely; did she have to wait a month post-birth to be considered human?

There are also no non-person humans. Personhood is not merit-based. Again, if I end up with brain damage and have to rely on other people for the rest of my life, do I cease to be a person?

It is a fact that abortion protects abusers. It is a fact that rapists and sex traffickers force women to have abortions to keep them in those horrible situations. Abortion is anti-woman, because it helps horrible men dodge all responsibility, and it prevents society at large from having to address the actual causes that often drive women to abortion.

Rape accounts for about 1% of all abortions. I'm not saying that makes it ok and I'm not trying to dismiss it, I'm just observing that it's nearly always treated as the main driver behind abortion when it is not. What it is is one of the most horrific things that can ever happen to a person, and the offender needs to be dealt with, with extreme prejudice. Killing a child helps no one. The mother deserves protection, she deserves support, and she deserves medical care. I don't know all the ins and outs of how best to handle this situation, but I believe the best case scenario is eventually a c-section. (A book I really appreciated that covered a situation like this is I Am the Exception by Anna Richey [video linked]). There are countless testimonies of women who were in this situation who chose to save their children and they are glad they did. They know the answer was not to kill children. There are countless testimonies of people who were conceived in rape who are glad their mothers chose to give them a chance at life. They know their lives have value and are worth living. Mother and child are both victims who deserve justice, not trauma heaped upon trauma.

(There's a whole discussion to be had here around child marriage and sexual abuse but unfortunately I don't have the material to even touch it. I can say making pedophilia a protected "identity" is so far off the mark that the radar can't even pick it up.)

(I will briefly sidebar to wave at the legislation being put into place to teach human development in schools via the Baby Olivia...project? [I forget what the whole initiative is called which is horrible because I've seen it around a lot lately.] I think that's actually pretty awesome. Kid-me would have been fascinated [and a bit grossed out because yeah, I was an awkward kid].)

I have to disagree there. It's still bad. Especially because, in the overwhelming majority of cases, we're talking about sex between two consenting adults who are looking to disrupt a natural process and divorce it from all natural responsibility for the sake of convenience. If you don't want to get pregnant, don't have sex. If you don't want to have a kid with that person, don't have sex with them. Simple as. Biological children are not a human right, and neither is sex.

(If you poke around at enough of my blog you'll notice I'm straight-up against birth control. For one thing, it is extremely harmful to women; for another, it is a band-aid that has completely stalled the improvement of women's healthcare; for another, it is seriously damaging the average Western woman's understanding of her own body and biology; and there's the whole disrupting-a-natural-process bit. But I digress.)

and what about women whose children died in the womb? would anti-abortion laws still apply, would she charged with murder?

Reading any of the laws in question shows that ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages aren't at all included in those laws. Those are not abortion because the pregnancy is nonviable and it has become a medical situation. Abortion wouldn't even help those situations; if anything, it would only make everything worse, and risk the life of the mother. Abortion is not medical care. Ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages have to be treated medically. All of the cases I've seen where "a woman was charged with murder for miscarriage" end up being something else like "woman miscarried and tried flushing her baby down the toilet" (yeah that was an actual thing in the last month and she was charged with improper treatment of human remains which... = human dignity.)

Abortion is not healthcare. If a woman is already at risk of complications, abortion will only make those complications worse. They will not help her. There is not a single situation where pregnancy is so dangerous that the only answer is abortion.

Those "few cells" are human. I'm also a clump of cells; I'm human. If I'm drowning (unlikely because I avoid swimming because I suck at it), is it ok for the lifeguard to hold my head underwater instead of making me calm down so they can tow me to shore?

Any reasonable human being who recognizes that the woman in question is carrying another human being, her child, would recognize that what they both need is medical care. The mother can be monitored, her condition treated as best as possible, and there's always the option to deliver early. Modern medicine allows us to support babies who are almost as early as 20 weeks premature! The answer is to take care of these people, not kill one because the other is in danger.

And in case anyone is wondering, this goes for babies who are "incompatible with life". 1. Doctors make mistakes and it's proven they often make mistakes where fetal development is concerned. (My sister got the scare of her life when a stupid tech told her that her third baby had "spots on her brain". I told my coworker, who said the same thing happened to her 15 years ago and one doctor bandied about the word "abortion" in front of her. Friends, the baby's brain was still developing. My sister's child is fine, and stupidly adorable to boot. Please.) 2. Even if that baby is "incompatible with life", the answer is not to kill them more quickly (and far, far, far more painfully). The answer is to treat them as best as medically possible, support their parents, and afford them the dignity deserving to every human being. Palliative care is a thing. For heaven's sake, let's use it more.

(My mother used to be a volunteer photographer for an organization where she went to hospitals and took pictures of babies who either had just passed or who didn't have long to live, to give their parents something to remember their children by. I also have so so many relatives and friends who have suffered miscarriages and stillbirths. I don't know that grief firsthand, but I know what it looks like, and I know that parents and siblings need support, not murder.)

(We also really need to stop treating all pregnancies like medical situations or a disease. They aren't. Pregnancy is natural. It is only when there are complications that it becomes a medical issue. I love modern medicine by and large. I love that it can help improve our lives. But sometimes doctors need to butt out and let women do what they were built to do.)

I don't know all of the legalities of double homicides in the case of pregnancy. I'm fairly certain that if it is known that the woman is pregnant, regardless of whether or not that motivated the murder, then the charge is double homicide. I would assume if the pregnancy was unknown, it doesn't apply? (I watch too many murder mystery and police procedural shows to have any faith in how these things are determined.) Morally, two people have been killed regardless, but I have no idea on the legalities.

Also, note that zygote and blastocyst are stages of human development, same as embryo, fetus, newborn, infant, toddler, adolescent, and adult.

i'm very sorry if these questions seem accusatory or rude-- i'm genuinely trying to understand the other side, because i don't feel like i can actually justify abortion if i don't know how the "other" side would approach ethical questions. i put "other" in quotation marks because while we have two very much opposing sets of ideas on how abortion should be approached, above all we care for the welfare of people and want the best for everyone. so sorry for putting this big chunk of text in your askbox, and feel free to ignore it, but you're one of the first genuinely nice people i've seen that is pro life who isn't trying to justify arguments with religion (because separation of church and state means no religion as sole justification for law, which is what many people i've seen try to do)

I don't think any of this comes off as rude or argumentative in any way! You laid out every point very clearly and it's nice to be able to discuss it as clearly as I am able (which, admittedly, is sometimes as clear as milk) instead of feeling like I have to defend myself (usually in that case I just give up and delete the ask). Again, I'm happy to look into any of this further and to provide better resources if there's something lacking in any of my points. I'm by no means perfect, and my arguments, while driven by a deep-felt and sincere conviction, are not as thorough as perhaps they should be. That's on me to work on, but I'm happy to do my best in the meantime.

Part of my convictions are grounded in my belief in God, but as you are aware, they can't be my whole foundation, and if the person on the other side of the conversation doesn't share that belief, we need another point of common ground for our discussion. (Secular Prolife is an excellent resource if you want more in-depth, non-religious discussions of this topic. I know there are others, but I don't have the list in front of me.)

And it is important to explore all sides of the issue! It's kind of hard to argue coherently otherwise. I see this discussion all the time from people "on the other side" or on the fence, both people I know and total strangers. I'm familiar with a lot of their arguments, both the ones they consider good-faith and the ones that are obviously driven by vitriol. Listening to them only helps bring clarity to my own knowledge and convictions.

I know so many people who are "for abortion with exceptions" are sincerely motivated by concern for other people. The onus is on them to figure out why, for them, that means killing some people for the sake of others. It's not enough to say "Well, I've never been in that situation, so I don't have room to speak". Abortion is a human right's issue. We all have a place at the discussion. Because at the end of the day, it comes down to one thing:

Abortion is the intentional killing of a child, a human being. It doesn't matter the reason behind that killing, whether it's a question of health, social circumstance, situation in life, or fear. It is murder.

And it is never ok.

For further reading (the majority of these are actual links, not links to tumblr posts):

This post and the notes are my-go to for the breakdown of the key abortion arguments.

Choice42

Carrying To Term

New Wave Feminists

The Human Defense Initiative

Birthright International

Abortion73

Rehumanize International

And again, if you are looking for more nice and rational people who are willing to discuss things like adults, I can give you a list!

#woof #that took....so much longer than I meant it to #.... guys it's 10:00 #HOW IS IT PAST 10:00???#I was supposed to do my laundry and set up my sewing pattern and read a book and eat dinner and and and #ah well #that's my brain y'all #@ anon: thank you AGAIN for being so cool!#it was nice to get to break it all down point by point and I hope I helped at least a little #I nearly killed my computer making it open a bunch of bookmarks all at once (it's a baby; there were never more than two dozen at at time)#again: I am always open to anons on this topic provided they're polite and seem to actually want to discuss this #cheers!#pro-life #discourse tag #asks #mine

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

Text

Collect Every Dream

In one moment, one micro-expression she wishes she hadn’t caught, everything felt like it was torn from under her.

Emily is pregnant, but her and Aaron's joy is short lived.

-x-

Hi friends!

This one is something I've been thinking about on and off for a little while. It's not what I planned to write when I opened google docs today but here we are.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Ectopic pregnancy, pregnancy loss, abortion

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Something is wrong.”

Aaron turns to look at his wife, the small distance between the two chairs they were sitting in too big for his liking. He wishes he could wrap his arm around her, pull her into his embrace and ease her fears, but he knows he can’t. That she wouldn’t want him to.

Not until they knew what was going on.

“Em, you don’t know that,” he says softly, trying his best to calm her nerves, to soothe the fear he felt simmering deep in his belly.

She turns to look at him sharply, her gaze unrelenting as she twists her wedding rings around her finger. A habit that had mercifully replaced picking at her cutilcles otherwise he knew he’d be catching her hand in his just to stop her from tearing her skin open.

“Aaron,” she says, her voice tight, controlled in a way it usually only was around her mother, “You saw the look on the ultrasound technician's face. If everything is fine you aren’t asked to stay behind after an ultrasound.”

She was just shy of seven weeks pregnant. They’d only known for a week, the joy she’d felt when the test came back positive was indescribable, two bright lines meaning the same thing as they had all those years ago in a public bathroom in Rome but something entirely different at the same time. She wasn’t 15 anymore and terrified. She was married to the love of her life and the pregnancy was something she wanted, something she’d tried for. Hope and love permeating everything in their home ever since she’d thrown away her birth control pills with little fanfare one more, their agreement that it was finally time echoing around her.

The scan was early, something her doctor had been keen on doing because of Emily’s age and her medical history. The stress her body had been through because of her injuries one of the things they had to consider throughout.

She had been excited, pushing away the nerves she’d felt all morning, as she laid down, Aaron’s hand in hers, as the ultrasound technician did the scan.

In one moment, one micro-expression she wishes she hadn’t caught, everything felt like it was torn from under her. It makes her hate her job, hate what she had always prided herself on because it took her happiness from her. Stole it away when she could have had it for a few more precious seconds.

The door opens and the doctor walks in, a tight smile on her face as she sits behind her desk.

“I’m sorry for keeping you here, but I needed to review my team's findings. I won’t keep you hanging, I’m sure you’re worried.” The doctor sighs, sympathy washing over her face confirming Emily’s concerns that something was wrong. She reaches out for Aaron’s hand and holds it tightly, grateful for the way he holds it back just as tightly, her hand sandwiched between both of his, the way he loved her the anchor she needed. “Have you ever heard of ectopic pregnancy?”

Emily heaves in a breath and it catches in her chest, tight and heavy as she fails to exhale properly. She nods in response to her doctor's question, unable to say anything, and Aaron’s grip on her hands gets impossibly tighter. She places her other hand on her stomach, any joy she’d felt in doing the exact same thing just a few minutes ago fading away, slipping through her fingers like sand.

“We’re lucky that you had an early scan and that we caught it now,” the doctor says, her voice soft and caring, yet every word feels like a lance to Emily’s abdomen, sharp and hot in a way she’s sure she’ll never recover from, more painful than the stake Ian had driven through her had ever been, “It means we’ve caught this before you got any further along and risked permanent damage.”

She doesn’t hear much else after that. The doctor’s soft apologies, her answers to Aaron’s questions no more than white nose. Instructions she’d heard once before, half a lifetime ago, as she’s presented with a box of pills washing over her. Waves of grief and sorrow getting bigger with every second that passed, her hand in Aaron’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

___

She’s given the option, and she decides to take the medication at home instead of at the doctor's office. The thought of taking it somewhere clinical instead of the comfort of her house awakened part of a memory she thought she’d long since buried. Something she desperately didn’t want to associate with this.

She’d taken the pills as soon as they got home, sitting on the couch she’d thought they’d tell Jack he’d be a big brother on. They’d been home for a couple of hours and she asked Aaron for a little bit of space, desperately needing to get her head around how things had changed so quickly, how she’d gone from excited to devastated so quickly. She knew he hadn’t wanted to leave her side but he did as she asked, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he walked to the home office they shared.

She knows he won’t have done the paperwork he’d muttered he had to do, that he would call work to let them know they were sick, a white lie she knows she’s going to have to remember next time she sees their friends. He would have called Jessica too, his voice strained as he asked her to take Jack for the night, well aware that neither of them had it in them to put on a brave face today.

She sighs as she tries to get comfortable on the couch, her heating pad against her stomach ever since the mild cramping had started. She knew it would get worse, that the pain would increase over the next day or so, and she didn’t feel the slightest bit ready for it. She wipes tears from her cheeks, a constant stream of them pushing past her lashline in a way she can’t fight. Something that had started in the car on the way home, the journey silent as Aaron kept his hand on her thigh, his support always there to hold her together.

She sits in silence in the living room, unable to bear the thought of turning on the television even though Aaron had purposely left the remote within her reach. She doesn’t want to associate this, to be pulled right back under by this feeling every time she watched a certain show or commercial. Unwilling to let herself drown in grief whenever she heard the jingle for the local secondhand car salesman.

She doesn’t know how much time passes as she sits there, staring straight ahead, her gaze looking through their wedding photo hung on the wall. Eventually, she hears his familiar footsteps in the hallway, loud and echoing in the otherwise quiet house.

“I called work and let them know neither of us will be in for the rest of the week. I said we have the flu,” he says softly, drawing her attention to him standing in front of her from where she’d been staring at the wall, “Depending on what the doctor says on Friday we’ll make the call then on what we do next week.”

She frowns, tilting her head at him curiously, her eyebrows furrowed together, “Friday?”

He puts his hands in his pockets, burying them in there to stop himself from reaching out for her, unsure what she wants from him, never wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Your follow-up appointment. You’ll have another scan to see…” he clears his throat so he doesn’t repeat the doctor's words, endlessly grateful that his wife didn’t seem to have taken the clinical nature of how everything was described onboard, “If the medication has worked.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding before she looks down at her lap, “Yeah,” she offers him a shaky smile, “Thank you for paying attention I…I don’t really remember anything she said.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, “Anything. You know that,” he steps towards her, his eyes lingering on how she’s clutching her heating pad usually reserved for her period to her abdomen, “Do you need any painkillers?”

“Not yet,” she replies, shaking her head, “Maybe later.”

The silence they fall back into is loud, all consuming in a way it rarely was in their house. A place full of love and laughter that they’d been looking forward to adding to, a dream that had been taken from them before they’d even really been able to get started.

“Do you need anything?”

She looks up at him, his own grief clear but shoved beneath the surface, masked with his love for her, and she reaches out a hand for him, “Come sit with me for a little bit?”

She doesn’t need to ask him twice, and he’s on the couch within seconds, his arms wrapped around her as he pulls her into his embrace. Somehow fierce yet delicate at the same time, the love they felt for each other turned into one physical action.

She rests her head against his shoulder, trying to draw in comfort from him and provide comfort at the same time. Everything they’d lost hanging in the air around them. She swallows thickly, hoping in vain that it will dislodge the grief that was stuck in her throat, cloying and viscous in a way she can’t shift. Her lungs burn with it. Her chest so full of everything she can’t say, things she wouldn’t be able to find the words for if she tried, that it feels like she can’t breathe, every breath painful. She wipes at her cheeks furiously and futilely, the tears immediately replaced.

“I keep thinking…” she starts, drifting off as she presses the heating pad a little firmer into her belly, the pain familiar in a way that made her ache.

“You keep thinking what, sweetheart?” he asks, his hand still tight around hers, his thumb running back and forth over the back of her hand, desperately trying to comfort her in any way he can. He watches how she hesitates, her chin trembling as she tries to hold back her emotions. Agony in the form of tears constantly slipping down her cheeks, burning tracks into her skin he thinks might be permanent, a type of sorrow that had breached her ironclad defences. “You can tell me anything,” he says, kissing her temple, repeating the action when she leans into it, “You know that.”

She nods and removes her hand from the heating pad to wipe tears away again, forcing herself to feel the sticky trail of them against her skin, the taste of the salt on her lips from the ones that make their way all the down her face, because it was easier than feeling everything else.

“I keep thinking that maybe I’m being punished,” she says, her voice shaking in a way he’d never heard before. He pulls her a little closer, waiting her out, forcing himself not to interrupt, not to tell her there was nothing she was being punished for, because he knows she needs to get this out. To say it so it was no longer festering inside of her, “If maybe God, or the universe, or whatever is telling me I’m not meant to be a mother.”

He sighs, “Em-”

“I’ve been pregnant twice in my life, Aaron,” she says, looking up at him, an edge of desperation in her eyes that breaks his heart, “Last time I was so young and fucking terrified and I made the choice that was right for me, but this time…I really wanted it. I really wanted this and I let myself start to picture it all. A little girl who looks like me but was reserved like you, or a boy who looked like you but was uncontrollable like me, ” she shakes her head and closes her eyes, “Maybe it’s my fault.”

He places his hand on the back of her head and pulls her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair, his short nails scratching against her scalp, “You don’t really believe that, Em,” he says softly, no judgement in his voice as he soothes her, “You know you don’t.”

She chokes on a sob, her forehead against his shoulder, “I know,” she says, pulling back to look at him, leaning into the palm he presses against her cheek, the warmth of his skin overriding everything else, “I know I don’t,” she laughs bitterly, a humourless sound that bursts out of her, short and sharp as it makes her ribs ache, “But Catholic guilt is a hell of a thing,” she smiles shakily, “Even when it’s been decades since you went to church.”

He keeps his hold on her, his fingers still in her hair, soothing her in the way she always did for him and Jack when they needed it, “If I could change this for you…if I could fix it…”

They both know he doesn’t have to say it, that he would do anything for her if he could, and she nods against him. She pulls back to look at him her lips pressed into a firm line as her dark, shining, eyes stare into his.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she says, her lower lip trembling, “I’m so sorry.”

He rests his forehead against hers, closing his eyes to force the tears back, to keep himself together until she doesn’t need him to do the same for her.

“I’ll say this as often as you need to hear it, Em, but you have nothing to apologise for,” he says, shifting to kiss her cheek and then her forehead, “Not one thing, okay?”

She nods, wishing she could believe him, that everything in her wasn’t screaming that this was somehow her fault. That she was being punished, or that this had happened because of what happened with Ian, a twisted sense of irony that he’d taken this from her after she’d taken his son from him. She knows it’s not true, that this was bad luck more than anything, but it felt easier to consider all the ways she could have prevented this, to think of how she could control it, rather than accept this was random. That there was nothing she could have done.

That this could happen again. The mere thought of it enough to make her choke on a sob, the sound escaping her like a hiccup.

She knew she wanted to have a baby with him. When she had recovered from this, physically and as much as she could emotionally, she knew she’d want to try again. Forever aware that they had time constraints, that the clock was ticking somewhat on them adding to their family. Another thing she wishes she could change, the thoughts she sometimes had about how she wants to go back in time and get with him sooner haunting her during the day instead of how they usually did at night. A phantom that chased her around the house when she couldn’t sleep, always one step behind her as she thought of the life they were building for them and Jack.

They sit on the couch, hours passing them by as they curl together, switching between silence and quiet conversation as needed. Eventually, he makes her eat something. She isn’t hungry at all, the thought of food making her stomach roll, but she eats it for him. Knowing he needed this, that looking after her was something he could control.

They go to bed early, both of them emotionally worn out from the day. She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes are swollen red from crying and her skin is paler than usual, making her look every bit as awful as she feels. She blows out a steady breath and her eyes flick over the cabinet beneath the sink, and she freezes as her gaze lingers on a particular drawer. She hesitates before she opens it and her breath catches in her breath as she immediately sees what she knew she’d find.

A positive pregnancy test, two pink lines staring back at her. A piece of plastic she’d kept in a rare and uncharacteristic show of sentimentalism, unable to throw it away when she found out she was pregnant. She picks it up, ignoring how her hand shakes, and she turns towards the trash can, holding it over it prepared to drop it in, to dispose of something she now felt stupid for keeping in the first place.

She can’t drop it, can’t let go of the one piece of evidence she had that this pregnancy had even happened. Something so small and simple that had made her happy, even if it was just a little while. She shakes her head at herself as she grips it a little tighter and turns back to the cabinet, placing it exactly where she’d picked it up from. She stares at it for a moment longer before she closes the drawer and turns to leave the bathroom.

Aaron is already in bed, the covers pulled back as he waits for her. She crawls into bed next to him, her back against his chest as he pulls the covers over them before he holds her close, his arm tight around her as he kisses the top of her head.

“If you need anything in the night please wake me up,” he says quietly, “You know I’d rather help.”

She squeezes his hand, linking their fingers together and bringing them up to her lips. She kisses his knuckles, her lips catching on the cool metal of his wedding ring, “I know,” she says, kissing his knuckles again, “I love you.”

He kisses her temple, desperately trying to press everything he feels about her into her skin, the words never enough.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

She slowly falls asleep, lulled into it by his embrace and his love as well as the painkillers he’d talked her into taking before they went to bed. She knows it will take a while to feel okay again, that she’ll always be haunted by the what-ifs and what could have beens, her child’s face never quite in focus, something she couldn’t imagine no matter how much she wanted to. She also knows that she’ll be okay, that she has Aaron and Jack and other people who love her.

She’d be okay, even if she wasn’t right now.

-x-

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josephquinnswhore · 2 years ago

Text

Girl Dad

Pairing: Ex Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: Joel makes a series of mistakes that cause you to leave the QZ with Tommy, finding a community to settle down with. Joel reunites with you to find he had daughters he never knew about.

Word Count: 2.8k

Content Warning: pregnancy, failed abortion, birth, failed abortion, death of a twin, typical tlou violence.

18 years, you and Joel had been together, never married but you both decided early on; it was something that could wait until you were ready, you were convinced you really would last forever, regardless of marriage. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where things went wrong, when Sarah died Joel didn’t shut you out, he leaned into you more, depended on you as if you were his lifeline. You felt the loss as hard as Joel did, you officially adopted Sarah the day she died, your heart felt so bitter to this day at the way she was taken from you, it would be your first loss as a mother, the first daughter you would lose. The loss had you both closer than you ever had been, a trio travelling across the country accompanied by Tommy, the three of you stuck together like superglue.

At the time, finding the Boston QZ felt like a blessing, paradise within the giant walls and safety of order and authority. It felt like things were almost normal, everyone worked and earned credits, currency used like money to buy everything you needed to survive.

The closest instance you could pinpoint the beginning of Joel’s hostility was when you had worked 10 hours a day, teaching children basic education, because was still important, even at the end of the world. A sickness had been bothering you for days-okay, a week, you’d experienced nausea and stomach cramps, with no blood to indicate it was your period behind the symptoms. You used 4 credits on an out of date pregnancy strip that showed a positive result. Turns out even out of date pregnancy strips can detect pregnancy, you were hesitant to tell Joel, he was a fantastic dad to Sarah, but he wasn’t the same, he was a broken man and you didn’t know how he would react to you having a baby.

You decided impulsively to drop the bomb over dinner, a half warm-can of pasta, interrupting Joel in the process, “got some extra credits today for those pills-” “I’m pregnant.” Your brain was running a million miles a minute, eyes scanning Joels face for a reaction when he started to frown. oh no. The lines in his forehead deepening, probably causing more stress lines. “I’ll see if I can find some pills that will get rid of it next time me and Tess go out, it’ll be fine we just need to get rid of it. Darlin’?” Joels eyes are watching you as he leans forward in his seat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, “Joel maybe we don’t need to get rid of the baby.” Joel scoffs and stands up, the chair squealing as it scoots across the floor, “this is no world for any goddamn baby to be raised in y/n. Don’t be stupid.” You bit your lip as you stood, stepping toward Joel your hands in defense, “this could be a good thing Joel, we could even name her Sar-” Joel snaps at you loudly, “don’t finish that sentence, you’re really pushing it.” His body stiffened at the thought of you naming that clump of cells after his deceased real daughter.

“We’re not doing this, you’re getting rid of it and that final.” Joel tells you sternly, leaving the apartment, slamming the door on the way out. You slump back into the uncomfortable embrace of the steel chair, accepting that Joel wouldn’t accept this baby as his own, it was a hard thought to swallow. You lean forward to rest your head on the dining table, eyes fluttering as you fall asleep in a position that your back would complain about in the morning.

A clink noise woke you up in front of you, the sunshine filtering through the square window by the bed, you had slept through the night on the damn dining room table, your back aching and cracking as you sat up made you groan, eyes met with Joel, who had placed a half a glass of water in front of you and two small pills rolled onto the large side as he threw them in front of you, standing over you as you take them into your hands and rub your eyes. Your eyes can’t meet Joels as he watches you, you drink the water in the glass, relieving some dryness in your throat as you swallowed the pills. You slam the cup on the table standing to turn away from Joel, his hand grabbed your wrist, “open your mouth.” You turn to him with a frown, “are you fucking serious right now Joel?” He didn’t answer just starred at you blankly, you open your mouth and lift your tongue, “Happy asshole?” You spat and walked into the bathroom where you turned on the cold water and held your arms around yourself protectively, “sorry baby i’m so sorry. Mama wanted you so badly.” Joel stood on the other side of the door, forehead pressed against the chipping paint, his heart filled with regret, he just couldn’t do it again, he couldn’t lose Sarah all over again.

Months went by and Joel had never been so distant with you, you had taken a few weeks of grieving to yourself, then slowly started to come back to Joel, the hugs, kisses, but no sex. His rejection weighing deep on your heart and the insecurity eating you alive, he thought you were disgusting, why else wouldn’t he have sex with you? For weeks the question ate you alive.

The question was answered a few nights later when Joel stumbled in, drunk at 3:30am, you kept your eyes closed as he fell onto the bed next to you, the smell of Lavender and whisky was a scent you would never forget, you started to put the pieces together.

The extra smuggle runs with Tess. Coming home late. Not being intimate with you. Joel wanting you to abort your baby, all because of Tess. Your heart broke, you sobbed silently next to Joel as you mourned 18 years of your love, the loss of your daughter, the man you were meant to spent forever with. You started to emotionally detach yourself, Joel didn’t notice how you pulled away, never noticed how you wouldn’t touch him, would scoot further away when he lie down in the bed, would skip meals with him.

Joel only noticed something was wrong with you when it was too late, weeks too late. Tommy was going on a run far North; he was determined to find humanity outside of the worsening violence that happened daily in the Boston QZ, he always spoke and hoped of a nicer place, somewhere more communal. You begged Tommy to tag along, you would make yourself useful, you wouldn’t be a liability; “please.” You beg Tommy, he sighs deeply, “what about Joel?” You shake your head, “he’s with Tess now.” All Tommy hears is a mumble from you, “oh sweetheart.” He pulled you in for a hug and checked your bag for supplies, making sure you have a suffienct amount of equiptment.

“Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Joels booming voice watched you, stopping right in front of Tommy. “She wants to come Joel, that’s her choice.” Joel grabs your wrist, and you shake him off, “isn’t Tess expecting you?” Joels face drops and his eyes soften, “darlin’ no, no. Come inside we can talk about this, okay?” You shake your head, “sorry Joel, it was over the day you made me swallow those pills.” Tommy looks between the two of you, confused. “I regret it, everyday.” You offer him a small smile, not wanting your goodbye to be hostile, “me too Joel. Goodbye.” You leave Joel standing there, heartbroken and truly alone for the first time since Sarah had been born. The ache in his heart begged for you to mend it, for him to chase after you and beg, grovel if he needed to, but his legs were frozen in place and all he could do was watch you leave.

“Mama, my arm.” You’re met with your daughter sobbing, tears stained her red chubby cheeks as saliva slobbered down her lips as she wailed, pointing to her arm. “Oh Elliarna, let mama kiss it better baby.” You soothed as you cuddled her, the small scrape was red and barely peeled back a layer of skin. “Which bandaid do you want baby, Princess or Horses?” The tears stop momentarily, “hmmm, horsies please mama, can we ride the horsies and go and see sissy Sar?” Tears gathered in your lashline as you applied the bandaid carefully, “sure baby, go and ask Tommy to help get your boots on.” Her footsteps thundered down the hall to meet Tommy, the sore on her arm completely forgotten about.

She came back speed walking down the hall to you where you wait by the front door, pulling one of Tommy’s warmer jackets over your shoulders, covering the vunerable exposed bump of your pregnant stomach. “Tommy told me stop running in the house mama, so I did.” You smile at Tommy walking towards you, his shy smile making him look so handsome, “good listening Elliarna, let’s go and feed the horses.” She skipped ahead of you out the front door in joy, Tommy holding your hand in his, “she’s going to be a great sister.” You smile at Tommy in agreement, a protective hand over your bump, “I have no doubts Tommy, you’re going to be a great dad, you have been a great dad.” Redness spreads from Tommys cheeks to his ears, you had been together for three years, shortly before you gave birth you found yourselves romantically involved. Tommy was there when you found this community in Wyoming, when you had pregnancy complications and went into pre-mature labour at 36 weeks because you were having twins, Elliarna survived, the smaller baby didn’t. You never thought you would lose two daughters in a lifetime. You had suffered enough. Tommy shared the same anxiety as you carried his own child, 8 months into your pregnancy you were as far along as you were when you gave birth three years ago. Praying to whoever was listening this baby was born alive, healthy.

“Hey, it’ll be okay sweetheart.” Tommys fingers squeezed your own and offered a sweet smile. You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss lovingly, finding the same appraise in your eyes. “Mama, Tommy look, there is new people on the horsies.”

You look up, a familiar face looking back at you and Tommy, a young girl clinging to him on the back of the horse they shared. Your mind had to be playing tricks on you, a delusion. Joel fucking Miller was jumping off the horse, you pickup Elliarna and rush to your house, tears gathering in your eyes, “what’s wrong mama are you hurt?” You sniffle and nod your head, “yeah baby mama’s hurt.” She rubs your pregnant stomach which makes you weep more, “is the baby ok?” You place your hand over her small one, “the baby is okay Elli.” Your daughter frowns, “then what’s wrong mama.” She reaches up to wipe your tears away and you chuckle, “let’s go outside and see sissy? Mama can explain it better okay?”

She smiles at you and pulls on your hand leading you outside, “okay mama.”

“Tommy.” Joel yells rushing to his younger brother, “Joel.” Tommy breathes, embracing each other, seeing each other for the first time in 3 years. “Was that..?” Tommy nods, “yeah, we made it here together.” Joel looks to Tommy, “and the kid?” Tommy huffs, a cloud exiting his lips, “your daughter, Joel.” Joel frowns and shakes his head, “no, that not possible, she took the-” Tommy placed his hand on Joels shoulder, “they didn’t work.” Joel’s breath stutters, choking back a sob, falling into Tommys arms. “There’s something you should see before you meet her, follow me.” Joel follows Tommy towards the house you retreated to, walking to the back of the house to a small garden shed, your body crouched down with you-his daughter. In front of you was a small wooden cross painted white, with black letters Melody Sarah Miller, small pink flowers painted around the name with a date. 07/15/2020.

You put the small butterfly antique back with the other decorations that the town had donated for your daughter. You wipe your tears as you turn around with your daughter, Joel standing beside Tommy you immediately start shaking your head no, “sweetheart he deserves to know.” Your teary eyes met Tommy’s and your hand instinctively cradled your pump to protect it. Joel watches the interaction between the two of you, sweet, affirmative, loving, you’re pregnant. Joel’s heart sinks, regretting every choice he made to push you into his brother’s arms.

You turn to Joel with sad eyes, he feels his demeanor crumbling at the sight of you, teary eyed and vunerable, your daughter shying away from him. “The pills didn’t terminate the pregnancy, I was pregnant with twins, I had alot of complications and went into early labour, Elliarna was the larger twin so she survived, Melody didn’t, I had to bury our daughter Joel and you weren’t here.” Your eyes began weeping as your body shook as you sobbed, reliving the feeling of despair, hopelessness and loss as you look at him. “I’m so sor-” You shake your head, “don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare Joel.” Joel’s body slumps in defeat, you were right, he doesn’t get to cop out and apologise now once all the hardship had been done, alone. He didn’t feel the grief, the void and emptiness losing this baby condemned you with. “You’re right.” Joels admission confuses you, him owning his actions calmed you a fraction, enough for you to take a breath. “Come here Elliarna sweetie, meet your daddy, remember how mama and Tommy told stories of your daddy Joel?” Elliarna steps out front behind you and in front of Joel. Joel’s eyes water, she looked exactly like him, her deep brown eyes mirrored his, her dark brown hair was sat in messy waves, the curve in her nose was a definite trait she inherited from him, the freckles on her cheeks softened the chubby-ness of her face. “Hi daddy.” Joel drops to his knees and holds his daughter, the weight of not missing 3 years of his daughter life weighing heavily on him, “hi baby girl.” Joel sniffles into his daughter shoulder, finding solace in the way she looks so familiar to Sarah. He pulls back and studies her face, afraid she will disappear from his arms.

“She looks like her.” Joel whimpers, looking up at you, the statement overwhelming you and your lip wobbled. “Yeah, she does.” Elliarna insepcts Joel’s face and giggles, scratching his patchy salt and pepper beard, “you must be old daddy, you are all grey.” Joel chuckles and his chest feels a load of weight lifted off him, “yeah baby, i am getting old, aren’t I?” Elliarna giggles, “how old?” You scold her gently, “that rude Elliarna.” Joel dismisses it, “I’m 56, and you, you’re 3, right?” Joel looks to you for conformation, standing up his knees crack as he lifts up his daughter in his arms, “yeah, she’s 3.” Joel looks between you and Tommy, not displaying any affection in front of him, “and you two are? You’re..” Joel trails off noticing your pregnant belly. “Uh, yeah. We’re 8 months along now.” Tommy replies, testing the water. Joel nods, accepting the fact that you looked happier with Tommy than you ever did with him. “Now,” you start, looking at Joel, “who’s the girl”? Joel walks with his daughter in his arms, you and Tommy following beside him hand in hand, back towards the young girl that was left behind with the horses, standing awkwardly.

You rush to her and pull her into a bone crushing hug, your swollen bump pressing into her, she hugged you back, welcoming the affection. “Ellie, meet my daughter, Elliarna.” Ellie laughed, “no way, that’s so frigging cool,” she turns towards your daughter, “we have the same name! sort of.” Your daughter giggles at Ellie and you smile between the bond that Joel and Ellie have. “Didn’t know you were such a pimp Joel.” You all laughed; she was going to fit in well with you. “This is y/n, the woman that gave me this beautiful girl, and my brother, Tommy.” Ellie looked between the three of you and you laughed. “Welcome to the family Ellie.” Tommy gives you a sweet smile, “let’s go and have dinner, we can talk more over a hot meal and a warm house to sit in.” Everyone agrees, “thank you for givin’ me a chance, I know I ain’t deserve it.” Joel thanks you sincerely and you smile, “you’re a dad of four Joel, it’s who you were meant to be, who am I to keep you from that?”

Tommy kisses you sweetly, admiring your strength and kindness, the love of his life, no one in the world would ever compare to you, silently thanking his older brother for his mistakes. Your family was almost complete, waiting on the arrival of your baby, with two watching over you.

#joel miller #joelmiller #joelmillerfic #tommymiller #tommymillertlou #tlou #pedropascal #dadpedro #joelmillerxreader #tommymillerxreader #dadtommymiller #elliewilliams

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tessarionbestgirl · 6 months ago

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Moon tea is both like a morning after pill and an abortion pill.

To use it as a morning after pill, it has to be taken immediately. No longer than a week.

Hoster Tully forced Lysa to drink moon tea when he found out she was pregnant with Little Finger’s baby. Her abortion was very painful and traumatic for her.

Alicent was also in intense pain, so I think she was using it to force a miscarriage aka her medieval abortion. Criston has been gone for 2 weeks, Alicent is way past that window of time from their last sexual encounter to be using it like the morning after pill. Weeks have gone by since Viserys died and 2 weeks since Criston left and if they started having sex within days of Visery’s death, that is enough time to know you’re pregnant and begin experiencing symptoms. Alicent is a also 4 time mother, this would’ve been the 5th pregnancy.

I couldn’t tell when I got pregnant. My daughter is a birth control baby. I had a history of irregular periods and life long stomach issues. So I only thought to test when I was closer to 8 weeks but I’d been sick, exhausted and dying for weeks. I even had an appointment with my doctor scheduled for the day after I took the test and figured out myself why I felt like shit. Now with my second, I knew right away having it experienced it just one time before.

That's an interesting story, you right, Alicent is a experience mother and she would see the signs of pregnancy faster, I didn't consider that. But this a valid argument. So the short time doesn't unvalidated the possibility she took that as a form to cause miscarriage.

Whatever, I see miscarriage before caused by similar herbs, Alicent wouldn't be able to walk around the castle looking for books and get drunk if was actually abortion, as you said Lysa abortion was traumatic experience some people even speculate that her mad behavior was caused by moon tea. So if was actually abortion Alicent would have got a way more intense response for her body that we just saw. And the fact moon tea magical properties always bring a price for those that drank it. Magic in asoiaf universe always come with a price.

Although, I think both sides have valid point about it, I myself, I am conflicted on which theory to support, in part I always come back to being being a after pill, I also think makes to much sense being a abortion situation. I believe I will have to wait to see what this plot will lead to her character to have a concrete standard on this. Alicent over all arc, after all, is about a character that slowly looses her integrity and sanity while she slowly stripping her self of all her beliefs, integrity and decency for a war she will eventually loose everything she most loved.

Aborting a child for a religious woman like her at this point on the narrative, I can't say if is to early and ooc or it is on brand for her. Because while I can see though her eyes this being justified in the sense if we start from the idea that for her this is a life, but she has killed before after Larys for the sake of her family, so this isn't new. But she doing herself is a different story. This should at least bring a heavy emotional impact on her.

But this season have been weirdly when comes to those women experience trauma. Grief have been downplayed a lot. And from the characters the only one that showed slightly stronger impact, was Aegon.

If isn't abortion, if this is a contraceptive method for her could be also implied that this is something she takes in an habitual way, what could lead to questions regarding when she started that and why she started that, Is this all a form of prevention or did she end up being careless and causing her to actually become pregnant ( Daeron being a bastard) and now she is learned for her mistake?

I need see how this all will come together by ep7 and 8 because according with some rumors those are very important for Alicent and a lot will come together for her.

#house of the dragon #team green #alicent hightower #hotd #ser criston cole #hotd critical #Anon ask #hotd analysis #theorizing #A+C=D

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i-am-a-stupid-robot · 1 year ago

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From Let Them Live this morning:

Kiara is currently 10 weeks pregnant and has aspirations to further her education in the medical field.* She has experienced the pain of miscarriages before and had been told that it was likely she would not get pregnant again. When she did become pregnant, she and her husband had not been trying to have a baby. It not only came as a shock, but it terrified Kiara.

Her husband’s reaction was complete indifference. They got married at a young age, and he became verbally and physically abusive. One of her miscarriages was a direct result of his abuse. At the time that they discovered she was pregnant again, they had been trying to resolve their issues, but his abuse continued to the point where she fled from him and filed for divorce.

Despite having left her husband, Kiara still has many problems. Though she has a college degree, she does not live close to places where she could get a job in her field. Her medical bills have gradually increased, and the money she earns is not enough to keep up with payments. To make things more complicated, she does not have a car, which would greatly improve her chance of finding work and getting back on her feet. Though her parents are religious, they told her that they do not support her raising a baby without a husband.

These concerns and overall lack of emotional support have left Kiara feeling alone and afraid. The fear became so great that she decided to obtain abortion pills. Though she still has the pills on hand, the time to take the pills lapsed and she decided to schedule a surgical abortion instead. Fortunately, Kiara found Let Them Live on social media and chose to reach out. She was soon speaking about her situation with our counselors.

Kiara is a sweet and determined young woman who has endured many hardships. Before this pregnancy, she did not support abortion and could never have imagined having an abortion herself. Like many women in her situation, the lack of support from friends, family, or her husband has left Kiara without hope. She wants to keep the baby, but does not see any way out of her circumstances.

Together, we can be the way out for Kiara and her precious baby. If we meet her needs and let her know how loved they both are, we can give Kiara the strength and the confidence to choose life.

Here are the expenses that our crisis pregnancy counselors identified so that Kiara can confidently carry her baby to term.

Groceries

Transportation

Pregnancy and job / financial counseling

Other Related Expenses

Note: These expenses may be adjusted in the future based on additional expenses incurred during and after her pregnancy. With your help, we can save Kiara and her 10-week baby from abortion! Donors will receive updates on Kiara and her baby throughout and after her pregnancy.

$3,390 of $27,500 goal raised so far.

Donate

#let them live #pro life #signal boost #prayer requests

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persephone-the-witch · 7 months ago

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My story:

I'm 40 years old. I was told a decade ago that I wasn't able to have kids. I have Endometriosis, and it's around my cervix. My ex-husband and I tired and tired for a baby, even had IVF. Nothing worked. We ended up getting a divorce because of the after effects and the stress.

I had come to terms that I'd never be a mom, and I was finally content and happy with my life. Going back to college, have a great job. Being a great aunt to my sisters kids. I was happy with my life and where it was going.

I had missed a period, no big deal. I have endometriosis and getting closer to menopause. I thought it was one of those. I was hoping I was finally in menopause. Endometriosis sucks!!! But I thought it was odd, even with those things I should have started my period. I know my body so well, I decided to take a test just to make sure. I've never gotten a positive pregnancy test for a many years as I had tired. It was mainly a ruling out things so I could make a plan for menopause, finally. I didn't think much about it when I was peeing on that stick waiting for it to tell me it's negative. So I didn't think much about it. When I looked at the test it said it was positive!!! I stood in the bathroom for I don't know how long, just in complete and utter shock. This shouldn't be happening. This isn't supposed to happen. I was told I'd never get pregnant. So many thoughts started spinning around in my head. What do I do?! What's happening right now? I couldn't make sense of anything at the time. Everything was coming at me so fast. I think at the time I instantly went numb. Trying to think about what to do, if this was really real.

Called my boyfriend and told him it was positive, he was silent for awhile, just like I was. This was unexpected for him too. Had we known it was a possibility we would have used protection. It wasn't supposed to be a possibility at all. So what happened?

We went and took a test at a clinic after I had taken another test to be sure. Sure enough both mine and the doctors test were all positive. So what do we do next? So swimming thoughts and choices needed to be made. I already knew my choice. I made that choice years ago. It's not like it couldn't have happened when I wanted a baby so badly it hurt.

So, now what? Where do I go? What do I do? Roe vs Wade has been overturned. It's now illegal to get an abortion, I could go to prison. So many thoughts in my head. Knowing we couldn't tell anyone what we were doing. That in of itself is terrifying and trying to keep this life changing decision a secret.

Couldn't drive to a clinic, they were all far away. Looked up the information and cost for medical abortions. I could buy them and have them shipped to me. And that what we did. We waited for the pills to come and made a plan for when they did. I was gonna spend that weekend together. We made his place comfortable and calming. The night I took the first pill, we had a nice dinner and watched a movie. And just spent time together. Just a super chill night together. Knowing what was to come.

We went to bed, snuggled up together. Letting the pill do it's job. Considering everything it was a peaceful sleep. That morning I had went to the bathroom and noticed blood. Ok, so the process has started. It wasn't time yet to take the other pills. So while we were still in the calm before the storm we just enjoyed our time together. Getting everything prepared for our journey.

I was extremely nervous, not knowing what to expect. I had read different options on the pain level. How was I going to feel after this was over. If our relationship could survive this. How was he doing in all this. Being my rock has its own consequences and trauma. Just add it to my list of traumas.

Pain meds, heading pad at the ready. It was time to take the other meds. After I had taken the last of the meds, it wasn't even two hours later, the fight of my bodies life had started. Terrified, angry, sad about the state of the country and women's health-care. That we have to be forced back into the shadows. No woman should ever have to go through that. Alone and sad.

This was my decision, doesn't stop the pain though. The hurt, the sadness, the anger and rage I felt about this situation.

The cramps came, the contractions. That was painful, the tears and anger that poured out of me was unreal. It was like I was having an outer body experience. I was there but wasn't. I distanced myself from it. I would deal with the feelings and things after. Right then I was just trying to survive. I was in so much pain it was hard to move, to walk, do much of anything. Ended up having to almost be carried to the bathroom and back. It was that bad. Moaning in pain on the couch, breathing to help try and control the situation since I had none at the time.

It took until about that evening when the pain was at its highest that I felt our baby leave my body. I knew in that moment that I was no longer pregnant. Relief spread through me at that moment. Sadness wasn't far behind. Second guessing what we did is normal. Doesn't help at the time.

Letting my body do what it needed to do and just be with that knowing you're ok and you did the right thing. Just trying to survive the weekend without completely losing it was a feat in itself.

Weeks after, up to my first period was bleeding, cramps and clots. I'm on my second period and I'm still waiting for my body to do back to normal. The hormones were insane. The hormones finally went away and got a negative pregnancy test at least. I hadn't realized that it felt like I couldn't breathe for months. That weight I was holding finally dropped. I could think and see clearly again. Coming out of the shadows and into my truth,learning and healing are my next adventures.

Almost 10 weeks post abortion. It's time to start healing. ❤️

#abortion #pro choice #women's rights #mental health #healing #healing journey

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ao3feed-gravescest · 8 months ago

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In The Dark

https://ift.tt/LQlHM1d by phfatbeatrice “‘Daddy’s little girl’. That’s what he said to me every morning after, when we sat at the kitchen table for breakfast.” Ashley shuffled as she pressed her back against the footboard of the bed and wrapped her arms around her legs. “When? How did I not know? What did he do? I want to know everything.” Andrew’s words were laced with emotion as he stood up from the chair, needing to do something besides sit still in that moment. After he started pacing, he paused for a second to turn and look at her. “Was it like us?” “It was on Tuesdays and Fridays mostly.” Ashley shrugged a little, watching Andrew as he started pacing. When asked if it was ‘like them’, she could only assume that Andrew meant to ask if it was consensual. “No.” -- This is a direct continuation of "Your Love Made Me Crazy", the first story in this series. Words: 8359, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of The Moral Graveyard of the Graves Siblings Fandoms: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley (Visual Novel) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/M Characters: Andrew Graves, Ashley Graves, Andrew Graves' and Ashley Graves' Father, Andrew Graves' and Ashley Graves' Mother, Julia (The Coffin of Andy and Leyley) Relationships: Andrew Graves/Ashley Graves Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Canon-Typical Violence, Sibling Incest, Incest, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Past Sexual Assault of a Minor, Emetophobia, there's an excessive amount of throwing up in this fic i'm sorry, Alcohol, Eating Disorders, mentions of eating disorders, no beta we die like nina, Talk of Abortions, Plan B, Morning After Pill, andrew and julia had no chill and forgot condoms too often, and ashley is beyond upset about that, the non-con is not between ashley and andrew

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #gravescest #gravecest #coffincest

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skykittywhatchamahcallit · 2 years ago

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Actually I’ve decided I do want to talk about it- I think it’s important information.

TW for some medical stuff and abortion and vomiting mentions.

last year, after the overturn of roe v wade, I got pregnant and needed an abortion. I had to drive to California to get one. Let’s talk about it.

Before I knew/found out:

I had spend the month smoking and drinking and doing drugs(I am not a saint), I had sex once(unprotected), and was on antibiotics(they didn’t pregnancy test me). I was feeling ill, my period is a little erratic, and I was one week late. I decided to take a test to relieve myself of stress. Whoopsie.

We bought 6 pregnancy tests. I took them all. All of them were positives. I started disassociating at this point out of fear.

Found out

I told my mom. I recruited my boyfriend and best friend for help(me and my boyfriend also talked about this as a very real possibility previously- communication is very important)

Set a planned parenthood appointment out of state, paid in full at the appointment.

At the appointment- I was nervous. They were playing the worst music I’ve ever heard in a doctors office over the radio(headphones next time.) I was emotionally fragile, they were playing songs like “apologize” by onerepublic. I got a pregnancy test, a transvaginal ultrasound, and then everything was explained to me by a pharmacist. The doctor and the pharmacist both told me after the first pill- there was no going back. I was stared at as I took the pill. I got ibuprofen, anti nausea meds, and the 4 pills I was suppose to take the following morning. I went home- I was fine but tired. Until the next morning.

I felt ill, tried eating, and waited for the dreaded time to take the medication. I threw up before I took the anti nausea meds. I had to take them twice. I took ibuprofen, I put the 4 abortion pills in my cheeks and waited, nauseously, for them to melt before I could swallow them.

30 minutes after taking the pills- I started feeling even more sick. My abdomen was starting to cramp in waves. Slowly ramping up, I vomited about 6 times over the course of the next 2 or 3 hours. The pain was unimaginable- it came in waves. Heat packs were the only thing that helped me combat the pain. Imagine the drops and rises you feel in a rollercoaster- that’s how startling and terrifying the pain was. You’ll also feel like you need to poop during this.(I think it’s sort of like a mix of cramps and labor pain?)

After about 4 hours, the pain started to subside, I’d cried my eyes out and thrown up more than I’d thrown up in the past 3 years in only 2 hours. I fell asleep after the pain calmed down enough for me to not lie in bed writhing and crying. I was woken up to eat food and drink water and take more painkillers and ibuprofen. The next 3 days that’s all I really did. Eat, sleep, drink water, relax. I never got the same cramps- but my abdomen ached the entire time with shorter, less extreme cramps. After 3 days I started taking longer breaks between painkillers and lowering the dose. After 6 days I finally started to feel more normal- but I was still bleeding.

I bled for about 2 weeks. I felt more normal after a week. My body’s cycle caught up after about 2 months, and then my emotions caught up after about 6 months. It did change the way I thought about kids and pregnancy- but I have a feeling it has to do with hormones.

Your first best form of contraceptive is not getting pregnant- and your second is an abortion. If you need to get one, if you want to get one, do it. Ask for better painkillers- have heat packs ready, have a friend/lover/family member willing to sit there while you go through the most difficult part and to help take care of you. You’ll be alright.

My inbox is open to questions, and I am more then happy to help you with anything you need to know.

#abortion #abortion care #abortion story #women’s care #women’s rights #pro choice

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amymmill · 1 year ago

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UK ABORTION RIGHTS

Right, so now imagine, you’re 2 weeks late on your period, looking for your birth control, trying to check if you took that hormone monster of a pill and then it hits you… it’s still secured in the packet. Logic takes over and you find yourself at the closest pharmacy paying 25 quid for the morning after pill, paired with a free trial of disgust and judgement from the middle-aged pharmacist. To your shock you’re greeted with a positive pregnancy test a couple days later. Unfortunately for a lot of women in the UK this is their reality. Now some of you may say, “well just remember to take your birth control”, but on top of how busy normal life is for a woman, you would be surprised at how easy it is to forget to take that tiny little thing. Funnily enough women in England, Scotland and Wales, wishing to have an abortion, have to ask for permission, from 2 doctors to end their pregnancy. Imagine that, in the 21st Century, having to prove to strangers that you know what is best for your own body. Doesn’t sound very uplifting to me. As a woman you have to provide proof that your pregnancy involves a bigger risk to your physical or mental health for you to be eligible for an abortion (up to 24 weeks). Conditions in Northern Ireland are even more restrictive, where abortions are only legal up to 10 weeks. And unlike in England, Scotland and Wales the severity of the risks have to be extreme for the long-term physical or mental health of the woman. There are no exceptions for rape, incest or fatal foetal abnormalities, and illegal abortions carry a maximum sentence of life in prison. So, if these doctors don’t agree that the pregnancy is a danger to your body or mind, you inevitably have to keep the foetus, giving you no legal right to terminate it. Leaving you to be forced through major physical, hormonal and pain staking changes to your body. Now for some women this could be enough to cause an emotional detachment towards their baby, which may lead to neglect or resentment. In the long run this puts the child at emotional or even physical risk, which isn’t what anyone in his or her right mind wants. So perhaps we need to reconsider the parties involved when it comes to a woman making life changing decisions with her body.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Department of Health and Social Care, Updated 10/03/2022, Home use of both pills for early medical abortion up to 10 weeks gestation

https://www.gov.uk/government/consultations/home-use-of-both-pills-for-early-medical-abortion/home-use-of-both-pills-for-early-medical-abortion-up-to-10-weeks-gestation Link accessed 27/11/2023

Humanist UK ,19/07/2022, Abortion deleted from UK Government-organised international human rights statement

https://humanists.uk/2022/07/19/abortion-deleted-from-uk-government-organised-international-human-rights-statement/#:~:text=Humanists%20UK%20Chief%20Executive%20Andrew%20Copson%20said%3A&text='The%20removal%20of%20support%20for,weapon%20rather%20than%20a%20shield. Link accessed 27/11/2023

Reproductive Choices, Abortion and your rights

https://www.msichoices.org.uk/abortion/considering-an-abortion/abortion-and-your-rights/ Link accessed 27/11/2023

Why women need better modern abortion law and better services, Abortion Rights

https://abortionrights.org.uk/abortion-law/ Link accessed 27/11/2023

OVERALL TAKE ON PROJECT

Personally i think working as a group leant itself really well to this project and topic of the manifesto. It was interesting to see the different cultural perspectives on the matter and how passionate each person was. Being able to form agreements and debates within the group also helped us to develop a well rounded piece of writing. I loved how there were personal experiences added and which helped other people to connect with the issue.

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badiiidea · 1 year ago

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Why was it so simple for them to fall into this easy sort of feeling? Or for her to fall into it? Because really, it seemed like no time had passed at all. Maybe she was romanticizing things (not really her style), maybe she was trying to make herself feel better about all of this. "Uh..." She'd forgotten all about what Esme had told her, what she had in turn told him, and if it weren't so serious she would have laughed hard. Instead, it was a stale, half chuckle. "I guess maybe?"

Walking was good, better than sitting across from him in a tight space, trying to work up her nerve. Penelope had known that she needed to do this in person. It couldn't just be a casual text message, or god forbid, a phone call? So getting out into the fresh air, her fingers toying with the lid of her cup, she took a few beats, ignoring the urge to just blab. Believe it or not, she still didn't have a plan as far as telling him went. All she really knew was that she was scared. One night was supposed to be one night was supposed to be them having a fun little secret. And now there was going to be no hiding it. And there was a big chance she'd be a single mother. Not to mention the shame. The shame of a broken engagement, the shame from her family, the unrelenting ruin toward her reputation.

She wouldn't be able to live this down.

Maybe anyone else would have just quietly made an appointment at a clinic. Her feelings were complicated about that, though. People were free to do what they wanted, but the thought of going through that made her stomach hurt, the thought of that loss made her impossibly sad. She had the resources, she had the means to make this work. And she was prepared to tell Quincy that. But even though she'd decided that she wouldn't go through that, she certainly would have made this trip first no matter what. He had a right to know. Even if he had no interest in being involved, he deserved the knowledge, he deserved the chance to opt in or out as he saw fit.

Who cared that the thought of him rejecting her, rejecting their unborn child, made her want to crumble? Definitely, absolutely not her. She was her. She could handle anything. She could handle this.

"So um." Killing it, rushing into it, there wasn't space for pleasantries. She couldn't pretend things were normal. Couldn't ask him about the minutiae of daily life when there was something life changing happening between them. "I mean... Sorry. I'm just... I wanted to talk to you. And it didn't feel right texting you or calling you or facetiming or whatever. I thought face to face would be best."

She let a beat or two pass, breathing in deeply before telling him, "I uh... I fucked up okay? I know I said I would go get the morning after pill and I... I was rushing to get out the next morning and I forgot. So this is on me. I own that. But um... Yeah. I'm expecting. I guess really we are. But yeah." She'd never been so nervous, so verbally diarrheal in her lift. Normally composed, calm, collected, here she was tripping over her own tongue. "And I already went to the doctor, and it's a sure thing. And I just... I'm not interested in an abortion. If you... I know this is like the last thing you want right?" Not a real question. "So don't worry about it. But we're adults. You deserved to at least know, you know?"

It’d be a lie to say he hadn’t thought of her since that night. It’s memory both blurry and vivid all at once. He’d never been to a sangeet, but he’d googled it and several other traditions the moment Masud invited him to the wedding. He knew to expect extravagance and the kind of energy around people that would give him fucking cold sweats any other day. But it was Masud. And yeah, he was going to stand out but never once had he ever felt…less than with him. They had a fucking great time. Always. This time wouldn’t be different, so rolling into the sangeet, he knew he was in for a wild night. Expect the unexpected and all that. But in no universe did he see her coming. It was a moment that was likely never meant to be. An anomaly. Genuinely. But he’d tuck it away, the soft scents of lavender, flashes of hot pink and that little half laugh, half sigh, a polaroid catching one of the rare moments life felt worth living. One he’d never fucking forget.

It faded, though. Wore. He went to work. Painted. Wandered. Each day a step in getting back to life as he knew it. But it didn’t irritate him, didn’t try and hold onto it. No point. He enjoyed it then and maybe every now and then when he was alone, sprawled in his sheets, he brought it out but that’s it. It was what it was.

He hadn’t bothered to save her number. But deleting it? Couldn’t do that either. So it sat, one month. Two months. Ten simple digits.

When they popped up on his screen months later, it took minute to register. The only clue being the message before, a middle finger emoji, and the date. When it did– no, should’ve been the obvious answer. Granted he could wrap it up as something prettier. He was swamped with work or he caught some stupid bug and was feeling too shitty. Little lies to preserve the polaroid. Wasn’t like it’d be a big deal to her. Likely baseless invite so if Micah spilled she was in town, it wouldn’t seem like she was avoiding him. It took him time to respond. Several ways of phrasing the same general idea before deleting and trying again. He just– he couldn’t hit that stupid little arrow until finally, after about a day and a half, he hit send. His message simple. “Sure. Lmk when,”

Stupid. He knew it. And he hesitated, looking up at the coffee shop sign, before he went in. This place wasn’t his favorite. They brewed their tea too long and god– it always tasted like fucking potpourri. And the coffee? Absolute trash, but this place offered more than any of the alternatives. Distance. “Hey,” his stomach twisting as he laid eyes on her, his senses flooding with memories and that pesky feeling of wanting, almost needing, to be closer. Which was granted, their hug quick, but still long enough to smell the lavender. He might’ve noticed the way she spoke, laced with that bit of uncertainty or just awkwardness. But he was trying to ignore the bit of warmth she’d left him with and just– get through this. They fucked. And yeah, maybe it was the best sex of his life, but it didn’t have to be this weird.

“It’s nice out. Let’s walk,” Quincy ordered, Lemongrass and Ginger tea, and finally allowed himself a longer look at her as he leaned against the pick up counter. “So, you just passing through or–?” Or wasn’t a thing. They were in the middle of bum fuck no where. That was the only scenario. Still, he smirked a little, “Let me guess. Part of Esme’s adventure?”

#penelope;quincy002

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gokartkid · 2 years ago

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maxiel 10

10. things you said that made me feel like shit

“Max I just-“ Daniel presses his fingers into the tender parts of his temples. He can feel a migraine building, the sharp point of it digging into the back of his head, “-can we not? Right now? I don’t have time for it.”

When he squints his eyes open he can just see the blurry outline of him, wide planes of his face made ugly by the sharp crease at his brow, two spots of flushed red high on his cheeks, his mouth twisted downwards.

“Oh, you don’t have time for it, of course, you do not have the time to talk to me.”

He’s angry.

A blind person could tell you he was angry, a blind deaf person. The worst part of it was that it was fair.

Max wasn’t even spitting-hysterical-shouting furious, it was a quiet build up over too many weeks of ‘later babe’ and ‘can’t we do this some other time.’ His hands were balled into fists at his sides, fingers white and red where they were pressing into the meat of his palm.

Daniel wanted to reach out and take them, spread out his fingers and press his thumbs into the half-moon crescents laid into skin. He wanted to walk away. He wanted to- god he wanted a panadol.

“No, we can just-” he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. He thinks that the wrong thing has already been said. “-we can, after. I promise.”

He wonders if it’s a bad thing to say that you promise something, and have it feel like throwing down a gauntlet, medieval knight style. He has an armour of silver and iron weighing him down. He wants Max to kiss a handkerchief and wrap it as a favour around his wrist.

Daniel knows that the migraine is getting bad, when he’s borderline hallucinating about being a fucking knight.

“You promise.”

Max has crossed his arms, soft t-shirt bunching at the armpits. It’s the one he sleeps in, worn in and on the verge of being full of holes. Daniel remembers running his fingers over the polyester this morning, Max’s face pressed into the pillow snoring under his breath, his soft body laid out between their sheets.

“I promise. I’ll take a walk, and then we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Max nods jerkily, an up-down motion with his head that looks like it hurts him to do. He’s tense, the long smooth line from his neck down to his shoulder solid and set.

“I don’t-“ his sentence is aborted. Daniel watches his Adam’s apple bob, the strange tendons of his neck. “-I don’t want to be, I don’t like this. Being mad.”

It’s like for a second his face crumples but he won’t let it, carved from marble, almost human.

Daniel feels like- he feels like a piece of gum squashed into the sidewalk, like an actual piece of shit. Bird shit.

“Maxy,” it comes out helplessly, he doesn’t know how else it could be. He doesn’t reach out, shoves his hands into his pockets. Max doesn’t like it when he touches him when he’s like this, when he’s trying to make a point and Daniel distracts him. “I don’t like it either.”

“Okay,” his mouth is a flat line, tense in the corners. Daniel can’t stop looking at the red lines of his eyes, pupils blue and pale. “Go on your walk. Don’t forget your umbrella.”

“Alright. Okay.”

It's like, dramatic irony, the drizzling when he laps around the block. The sky is a washed out grey, like it just needs to dribble about this bit of rain, needs to block the sun just enough for it to be gloomy. The smell of it soaks through the air. He can feel his jeans getting damp and stiff, steps around the puddles so they don't get all on his vans.

The taste of the migraine pill is bitter under his tongue, dissolving slowly into his bloodstream. He takes a sip from his water bottle once it's gone, washes down the flavour until his mouth is just cold and clear.

The thing about a walk, is even if you don't think you'll think, you do. There's nothing else to do once you've gotten in the rhythm of one step in front of the other, only so many times you can comment on the weather or state of the sky.

His shoes squeak going up the stairs to their apartment, echoing off the walls. He thinks that wet rubber might be in his top 5 worst noises.

Max stands up as soon as he opens the door to their place. His face is pale and drawn. He's bigger than Daniel is, but in moments like this it's hard to remember, when he seems like a kicked puppy.

"I missed you." Daniel offers. It's stupid. He's barely been gone for half an hour. He's gotten more used to saying stupid things in a relationship, the good and bad ways to not have a filter. That sometimes, the stupid things are showing that he cares.

"I missed you, as well." Max comes forward stiltedly before he tucks himself solidly against Daniel, a line of warmth when Daniel realises that he's cold.

He turns his head sideways, presses it into the side of Max's head, just against his ear in the facsimile of a kiss. He strokes his hand up and down the soft polyester t-shirt. He waits.

#ty!!#max/daniel #mv33 #dr3 #my fic #f1 rpf

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Hi hello I keep thinking about somnophilia with Zemo mix in some breeding kink and hnnng

mannn I wanna make this as dark as possible so we're gonna get wild with this one... warnings for noncon (somnophilia, duh), drugging, breeding kink, brief reference to abortion, implied kidnapping/forced marriage and zemo being The Worst

You really should've known better than to accept a drink that Baron Helmut Zemo offered you.

But, in your defense, it seemed like a peace offering at the time, and you were trying to be a good teammate to Sam and Bucky by tolerating this guy even though he gave you the creeps.

"Cherry blossom tea?" he proposed as he extended a mug to you, the dark pink liquid inside steaming and warming your face.

"Thank you," you nodded, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed over his when you took the drink from his hands.

The drug wasn't fast-acting, because that wasn't what it was meant for. It was meant to keep you sedated through almost any stimulation, but to pass through your system undetected; to you, it would seem like a normal night of sleep.

In fact, it almost looked like normal sleep when Zemo snuck into your room that night, making him almost worry that it hadn't taken effect. Except, of course, that he trusted the chemistry and he suspected that he couldn't have even opened your bedroom door without waking you if you were unaffected. He just worried simply because the stakes were so high if he got caught.

A small part of him almost wanted to get caught, though, even if he knew Sam or James wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they found him using you in this way. Honestly, even if you were alert and consenting they would probably still kill him for it. But it might be fun to watch them realise what he had done to you.

And you... if you knew the ways he was going to defile you, you would be horrified. And as gratifying as that could be to some, the truth was that the Baron would rather see you submit than struggle. He longed to see your smile, to feel your touch and return it in a way that was wanted. But, knowing that was impossible, he had to resort to other means.

Further, he had purpose for you far beyond gratification. See, after careful consideration, Helmut had realized that you would be the perfect candidate to carry a new heir. And even in a world where he could seduce you, he certainly couldn't get you to be bred willingly. No, his best bet was to impregnate you now, secretly, and do his best to make sure that by the time you found out, you were too attached to terminate. Or, perhaps, too imprisoned to be able to do anything but become his new and unwilling-but-convincable Baroness.

Of course, if he wanted to be especially inconspicuous, he could artificially inseminate you. But the natural way was going to be a lot more fun.

He slipped into bed with you, absorbed the warmth of you as he held your pliant body in his arms. You were distinctly and firmly unconscious, your breathing steady and your heartbeat strong if slow. He surprised himself with the way he was drawn to your sleeping form, to the neutral expression on your face. He was so used to seeing you scowl or glare at him, it was nice to see you like this.

"Draga," he mumbled to you as he pulled you closer, rolling you onto your back and finding a place between your legs. You only slept in a sports bra and underwear, a sight that had him hard in an instant even before he began to carefully undress you.

With your body fully exposed to him, he found you already a bit wet and wondered if you'd had a filthy dream earlier in the night... or if you'd been having naughty thoughts during the day. Honestly, with the way you acted so shy and anxious around him, he sort of suspected your disdain for him was not based only in fear but in an arousal that you hated. But he couldn't blame you... you were attracted to power. You knew he had that, and you couldn't forget it.

He slowly rubbed your clit with his thumb, watching you sleep soundly beneath him, feeling your cunt get warmer and wetter by the second. Two fingers into your channel made him force his eyes shut with a sigh to try to compose himself.

"You're tight, darling," he hissed into the silent air of the night. "Fuck, I hope I'll fit. If I hurt you too much you'll wake up sore tomorrow, and we can't have you fighting out about little baby Zemo until you're too far along for the pill, yes?"

Obviously, he didn't need to talk at all during this... but it sort of came naturally. It was nice to speak to you uninterrupted, for once.

"I'm going to get you ready for me, I'll be delicate with you, draga," he promised in a groan, twisting his fingers within you. "Believe it or not, I really have no desire to hurt you."

Your body shifted slightly and his heart raced for a second at the idea that you might be waking up. But instead you stayed asleep, though your mouth fell slack into a little sigh.

"Oh, can you feel it? Even in your sleep?" he wondered aloud with a smirk. "You like how my fingers feel inside you..."

He curled them again and another sleepy moan left you.

"I need to fuck you. I need to hear you moan for my cock," he grunted as he bent down and positioned himself at your entrance. Just pressing against you was nearly overwhelming, you were so warm he could hardly stand it. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been inside a woman... it would've been his wife, all those years ago, and the memory was so distant that it felt like trying to remember a dream.

But you were here, you were alive, you were real. And as he pushed his hips forward, he couldn't help but moan because you felt like heaven.

"Fuck," he hissed, looking down and seeing your eyes almost flutter, hearing you whimper slightly. "It won't be long, draga, I need to finish inside you. But I wish it could last forever..."

Considering the way your body responded to him so eagerly, considering how many years he had been alone and celibate even to the most innocent of touches, considering how quickly he had become enamored with you despite your clear hatred for him, it was a wonder he lasted as long as he did, but it was definitely not anywhere near forever. He held you close and kissed you everywhere he could reach, burying his face in the crook of your neck and breathing the warm, sweet scent of you until he was pumping every drop as deep into you as he could go. Once he was sure you were full to the brim, he still stayed within you for quite some time... after all, he had nowhere else he needed to be, and nowhere he wanted to be more than holding you.

When he pulled out, finally, after what must have been hours, he dressed you again and tried to erase what evidence he could of his presence.

Of course, his come leaking out of you was a pretty strong piece of evidence, but he had a plan for that.

"You had a dream," he whispered to you, indulging himself in softly kissing your ear, "about the Baron. Maybe you want to pretend that you don't know why, but you do. The dream left you so wet and desperate that you made this precious little mess in your panties, that's all, nothing else."

...hey, I never said it was a good plan, but it was still the only one he had.

He left your room as quietly as he entered it, making a quick stop by the kitchen to thoroughly wash the mug you had used for your tea, lest you suspect something and take the time to test it somehow.

But the way your eyes dodged him the next morning, the way you were suddenly all out of snide remarks and sickened glares, made it clear that you really had dreamed of him. Maybe you dreamed of him even before he entered your room, but he would never know that for sure.

What he did know for sure was that even if the chances were somewhat slim that you were carrying his heir, he was going to take you for himself the absolute second that he had the chance, and make absolutely sure that you were. You were going to make a lovely wife, once you realised he was never going to let you go.

#dark!baron zemo x reader #dark!helmut zemo x reader #dark!baron zemo smut #saturday night sleepover

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