#easy after pill or abortion

[artcallednaturalviews]

Tha Bum Would Say Rdr2 as best Skyrim gave more In the cave a soundtrack In the woods in the dark In the light sky Or enemies harboring around All different changes within the game Thee above has three songs Argue on for thee others GTA hasn’t captured Still within a company falling along Rock Stars are great But to up end, that’s spinster opinionated They want sinister in public atmospheres Those evils can’t fantasize Nor in science Not a where were wear of the whole planet One must Doctor like a doctor Doom The bum would say doctoring never in a video game But Resident Evil was horror and entertaining Leaders attack, see to Ukraine See to Gaza And Afrika Doctors nurses soldiers all spent Stop this game madness It creeps upon the children For post Or tragic Express Even in the lower layers laters on A bum stated Way longer than necessary Way longer then Necessarily speaking upon The greatest of our time now That billion dollar sign, plant there I write smaller for the bigger picture My mind breathing in plastic Please aren’t we cousins All mixed up upon our land The squandered me into Lives of the soared & soured I used to be Vegetation for the human See to coral reefs, They don’t help me, see look closer now wolf, declined wilds

On Earth for you an me

It T U M B L R

Get back yourselves the home left without

Here on Earth

You can you do control more

[echobx]

the one with the abortion - JJ Maybank × ex!fem!reader

summary: JJ is taking care of his ex!girlfriend because she's having an abortion

warnings: hurt/comfort, no happy ending

word count: 1.9k

author's note: inspired by that one episode in Heartbreak High season 2. I know it's a heavy topic, that's why I'm advising you to maybe not read it if you have a trigger or just don't feel comfortable with this kind of thing.

You knock at the door of the Château and a moment later John B is standing before you, leaning in the door with an unpleasant look on his face. 

“What do you want?” he snarls. 

“Is JJ there? I need to talk to him,” you press out the words. Your heart lies heavy in your chest, throat dry and eyes close to tears. 

“He doesn't want to see you,” John B replies, and you nod, knowingly. Of course, he didn't, you had broken up with him, had broken his heart and refused contact for a whole month. 

“I know,” you bite your tongue and clear your throat. “It's important. Can you tell him I came by?” 

“Sure. Whatever,” John B shrugs, and you leave, wrapping your arms around your middle to not start crying instantly. 

You walk home, it's not like you could call anyone to pick you up, either. But you have made your choice, and no matter what he'd say, it won't change it. So you go to your doctor, she prescribes you the pill and an hour later you sit at home, a hundred bucks lighter and with an even heavier weight on your shoulders. 

The instructions are clear, take the pill, wait for the hours to pass and take the second one. And if your calculations are correct, you're gonna be able to survive school the next day before anything even starts to happen. It's easy. 

The next morning you wake up to light cramps, nothing that you hadn't expected, nothing you couldn't deal with. You get ready and make your way to school, ignoring the pain and instead focusing on the horrible day that lay before you. 

You are standing at your locker when he walks closer. You don't have to see him walk over to know it. JJ has the type of presence to him that just keeps pulling you in no matter how hard you try to stay away, and how much you wish right now that you had stayed away from the very start. 

“Hey,” he greets you rather flat. 

“Hi,” you give him a small smile, but he doesn’t reciprocate it. 

“John B said you wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yeah, but… it's, uh…, it's not really important anymore,” you murmur, looking into your locker instead of his striking blue eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. 

“All right.” He rolls his eyes and is about to turn away when a rather nasty cramp hits you like a wall of bricks, and you cry out in pain, clawing at your abdomen. 

“Y/n! Are you okay?” he lunges forward to hold onto you, no longer cold and distant, but the same way he always had for the months that you had been together. 

“No,” the tears are starting to slowly trickle down your cheeks as you look up at him. “Can you take me home?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he nods and holds you up the whole way home. It's not a far walk, but with every step you feel like your insides are being ripped to shreds. 

“Don't go,” you beg as he turns to the door after having laid you down in your bed. “Please don't leave me.”

“I don't think it's a good idea,” JJ runs his hand through his hair. You know how weird it must be for him, after all the only reason you had broken up with him, was because you were scared that he could cheat on you. Simply because you didn't put much worth to yourself. 

“I have no one else, please. Just today,” you cry, and he caves. Putting his backpack down and taking his boots off before climbing into bed to hold you as you tried to fight the pain. 

“What's happening?” JJ asks with a whisper, and you pull your face from his chest and peak up at him. 

“Don't be mad at me,” you whisper. 

“I don't think I can be mad at you for being in pain,” he smiles softly, flattening the hair on your head. 

“I'm having an abortion,” you whisper, and he furrows his brows. 

“What?” 

“Right now.” 

“How? What? Y/n/n what do you mean?” You can see his mind racing, trying to connect the dots and keep up with what you had just told him. 

“You're pregnant?” he asks slowly, and you nod.

“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but- John B didn't let me see you,” you whisper before groaning with how hard the last cramp had hit you. 

“I mean- But- Whose is it?” JJ asks, and you feel like laughing about how ridiculous it all sounds. 

“Yours. There wasn't anyone else, and timewise- I didn't plan on having an abortion, but you- and then I was alone, and I'm always alone, and we're too young anyway. I wouldn't be able to provide for it,” you ramble. 

“Maybe we should call your doctor,” JJ says and reaches for your phone, the pin code still unchanged, to his surprise. 

You watch him carefully, helping him answer the questions and holding onto him for your dear life. 

“All right, thank you,” he hangs up the phone and sighs. 

“What now?” you ask, and he rolls to the side to get out of bed. 

“She said you should take the second pill and keep yourself warm, so I'm letting in a bath,” JJ explains softly before leaving for the bathroom. 

You reach over to your nightstand and take the second pill before getting up and dragging yourself to the bathroom. 

“I would've come to get you, you shouldn't be walking,” JJ sounded concerned and pulled you into his arms. 

He helps you take off your clothes and sits down next to the tub as soon as you are in. 

“I'm sorry you have to go through this,” he whispers, holding onto your hand. 

“Life is funny like that. I always thought we'd do this the right way,” you sigh and let your head fall back to lean on the edge of the tub. 

“The right way?” JJ asks quietly.

“Finish school, get married, have a bunch of kids, grow resentful towards each other, divorce as soon as the kids are out of the house. The way everyone does it these days,” you explain through gritted teeth, the hot water is easing the pain, but it's still not gone completely. 

“That doesn't sound happy to me.” 

“It's not, but the start was. We'll hold onto that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and picturing one of the good days; a picnic at the beach that ended with the both of you drenched to the bones running back towards the Château.

“We can try again,” he whispers, and you lift your head to look at him. 

“I'm literally killing your child right now,” you say and he shrugs. 

“Just cells, nothing we haven't done in a messier way before.” 

“Don't make me laugh,” you close your eyes and force the chuckle away. “It hurts to laugh.” 

“Sorry, princess. I don't know what else to talk about,” he leans his chin on the edge of the tub. 

“Anything,” you beg quietly. 

“We never- you know… I mean, how did it even happen?” JJ looks at you and you shake your head. 

“Condom probably broke or something. I don't know. Doesn't matter.” 

“You have a specific one in mind that we could've told the little blob about if it didn't get murdered?” JJ grinned and exhaled a long breath to not laugh. 

“I don't know, was probably a boring one. Or just nothing anyone ever wants to know about,” you give him a lopsided grin. 

“I like to think it was the supply closet, gives it some type of mystery.” 

“Mystery?” 

“Yeah. You know what's funny, I can't even remember how we got into that situation, but I'd do it again,” he smiles and brushes a strand of hair from your face. “I'd do it all again, no matter the pain.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, but he shakes his head. 

“Pope said it's not either of our fault, he said you were being a better person than most for leaving early instead of growing resentful towards me over your own dumb insecurities. He didn't call them dumb though, that's all me.” 

“I can't help it,” you admit and he nods. 

“I know, and I can't convince you. I would've given you the world if you'd let me. Just you, me and the blob, perfect little family.” He smiles, and you feel your heart sink even further. 

“I do love you,” you hush, and he blinks two times before looking away. 

“I don't think that's a good idea.” 

You sit in silence, he's still holding onto your hand and the water has gone more cold. It's not like you had wanted to, but your hormones were all over the place so it didn't surprise you when you started crying. 

“Hey, y/n/n, what's up? Should I call the doctor? Pain meds? What can I do?” JJ asks, frantically searching for a solution to the problem. 

“I don't wanna die, JJ. I'm scared. I'm so scared,” you cry, and he leans closer, holding your face in his hands and leaning his forehead against yours. 

“You're not going to die. I won't let that happen,” he whispers, and you nod with him. 

“I should've told you before. I'm sorry,” you weep, and he wipes your tears away. 

“It's your choice, baby, I'm gonna be here either way, you know that,” he whispers, and your heart warms at his words. At the pet name he had always kept reserved just for you. 

“It hurts,” you cry, and you don't know if it's because he still loves you or because he's scared, but the small kiss he presses to your lips relieves you of so much pain that you can only sigh into it. 

“I didn't mean to-” you stop him with another kiss, quick and just as relieving as the first. 

“Y/n/n, I love you, but we can't do this. We need time, just like you said and…, I don't know if that's enough,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I know, but I want to forget the pain,” you admit and with a soft nod he allows you to kiss him again. It's gentle and not like you had usually done it, it felt like a last time, like a happy end. A tragic but beautiful happy end. 

You bite down on his bottom lip when a particularly nasty cramp hits you and JJ pulls away, looking at you with concern before you see his eyes go wide. 

“I think you should get out of the water,” he mutters, and you look down at the fine trail of blood that was starting to mix with the water. 

He leaves you alone in the bathroom, standing behind the door and constantly asking if you are okay, until you wrap yourself in a bathrobe and come out of the tiled room. 

“I think it's gone,” you whisper and he nods. 

“Do you want me to leave now?” 

You shake your head, although you know it's a bad idea. “We can go back to not talking tomorrow, if that's okay.” 

“All right,” he smiles, but his eyes are filled with pain, and you hate yourself even more than you had before. “Should we watch a movie?” 

That's how you spend the last few hours of your day, curled up in your bed, watching a romcom on your laptop until you fall asleep. And when you wake up the next morning, he is gone as if nothing had ever happened. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart @princessmaybank

[drdemonprince]

People treat American politics like sports -- and it serves very much the same function as sports. It is a source of constant new content that can be easily analyzed, repackaged, and commented upon by the media class for a profit, distracting the public and manipulating their emotions, often by amplifying fleeting, moment-by-moment shifts that won't actually be consequential.

It also defines the boundaries of American life -- what American culture supposedly is, and what it means to belong to it or to participate meaningfully in it. If you pay too much attention to it, you get to believing that all that matters is who is holding the ball, and you stop forgetting that it's all a game, and that we could all collectively change the rules at any time we wanted.

It's endlessly frustrating to me to see even the people who realize that it's theater get swept up in its ongoing mini-dramas, and take part in endlessly churning content out about it themselves. If you already recognize that the leadership of both parties represent the interests of the ruling class equally, and equally represent police militarization, the national surveillance apparatus, corporate interests, global exploitation, colonialism, and genocide worldwide (and are the source of your own economic and legal oppression, if you're a person living in the country) why would you find a debate between candidates fascinating? Why would you be rooting for one representative of the ruling class to score a dunk on the other on a stage?

I can't think of a worse use of one's time. If you know who your enemies really are, you don't start rooting for one of them simply because you like their plotline better. And if you actually recognize a solidarity between yourself and the people who are constantly having resources extracted from their lands by American companies and who are being killed in Gaza by American-made bombs, then you wouldn't be hoping for the continued existence and prosperity of an America that occasionally does one or two nice things for you to keep you quiet.

If you think that it's the American government that "gives" you the right to get an abortion or to be gay or transgender, then you're always going to be easy to manipulate into compliance. In reality, it is the state that has the power to take your freedom AWAY -- and it does so constantly, with its police-patrolled protest zones, restrictions on healthcare access, prisons, and taxes for bombs.

But if you recognize that no state should have the ability to define how you get to live and who you get to be in the first place, then you'll forever be suspicious of all the little pacifying treats and fleeting distractions that it offers you. You won't feel relieved that at least the person extracting money from your wallet to build Reaper Drones is a woman, this time. And you won't thank her for giving you the abortion pills that are prepared and distributed by workers who live all around you, and who will continue to know how to do that vital work long after the empire is gone.

[nervousd]

Side story— Unexpected

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS- an unexpected outcome happens

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, implications of babytrapping, talks of abortion, implications of noncon/dubcon, unwanted pregnancy, talks of miscarriage, implications of physical abuse, talks of death(?), older man/younger woman, obsession, possessive, yandere, implications of platonic yandere

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch

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❝ Fuck— Fuck! ❞ countless items were scattered across the floor, you threw everything that was near— a vase with nice decorated flowers gifted by the man that had brought you down to situation. Clothes that were gifted by him— accessories that he gifted you. Your voice grew louder, pulse racing and breath labored— your muscles were tensed as you could feel your blood boiling. With nothing else near your reach you were left restlessly

Your fingers fidgeted, restless to distract your attention somewhere else. The taunting thin blue lines however seemed to be mocking you. Numerous pregnancy test were scattered across the floor, they weren’t easy to get either— your fingers crept up towards your hair pulling at the rots. You aren’t ready to be a mother— to have a child. Tears welled up in frustration— this wasn’t possible. You were careful— you were sure of it. Had taken the morning after pill religiously— even if you were reassured that a condom would be used. An ugly expression crept up your face, your fingers balled into a fist and slammed them down on the cement.

A profanity of curses escaped past your lips, ❝ That damn dog— That Bastard! ❞ it was no secret who the father of your unborn child is— or rather clump of cells. There was still time— to get rid of it. As cruel as it sounds it was reasonable wasn’t it? How can you bring a child into such a cruel world? This was no life and neither was earth. How can you even be pregnant? As much as you wanted to delude yourself into thinking all the pregnancy test were false there was no denying the truth. The morning sickness and lack of period was enough confirmation for you.

But even then— none of this made sense. You couldn’t be pregnant, you were careful— too careful. Hell maybe you could even call yourself paranoid. The Colonel— no Miles had done something. He had begun to act oddly one day. You knew him well— too well. He was up to something— at one point you had devised a plan to find out. Much to your horror— Miles had began dreaming of building a family with you. He whispered his desires and dreams when he thought you were asleep, hand caressing your stomach. You laid wide awake that night, unable to sleep. And now here you are pregnant— what a fuckin coincidence isn’t it? He did something— he is the reason why you were pregnant.

You held no feelings for this man— couldn’t even bear to think of having a child with him. You despised him— but there was a perk to this unique relationship with him. You would use his affections not only for you benefit but for the avatar program as well. If all you had to do was batt your eyelashes at him or whispering sweet nothings into his ear, you can get him to consent to a small favor for you— of course they were never small. There were even talks of regaining peace with the na’vi when the destruction and attacks were cut down by the RDA. So what if you were using him? In the end you were that one that was fulfilling his never ending lust.

You had relatively managed to clam yourself down, the pregnancy test weren’t false nor were they wrong. You were pregnant— that is a fact. Not once had you missed taking the pill— so how could this happen? Unless the pills were fake. You scrambled towards your room, searching aimlessly for the bottle of pills. Popping the cap bottle, the pills scattered across the floor. You analyzed each of the pills, nothing seemed wrong with them. Until the sweet sugary smell met your nose— they were placebos. They didn’t crumble with the slightest touch of pressure unless there was force applied. Sugar pills— they were sugar pills. You’ve been eating sugar pills for months.

Anger bubbled within your chest, how have you not noticed you’ve been eating sugar pills for months? You were an idiot— a fool— You had asked Miles for the pills seeing as you had no other way to get them. But for how long have you been a fool in his eyes? You trusted him— you never thought he would do something as vile as this. Either way, what’s done is done. There is no way to get out of this situation. It would be impossible to terminate this pregnancy— sure there were doctors stationed here in Pandora but they weren’t the type of doctor you needed. God knows they don’t have the necessary equipment either. Abortion isn’t possible— a miscarriage is possible but even than such a feat would be dangerous.

Tears blurred your vision, there was no way out of this scenario. You were stuck— and you refused to even entertain the thought of going to Miles. If anything he would be ecstatic of the news. It’s what he wanted— and he got it. He wanted a family and it’s now possible— he wants to be father. He is going to be father. But you can rob him of that experience— you can rob him of being present. And with that in mind you had decided there and than you would leave.

It wasn’t going to be easy— not with soldiers stationed at every corner of the building, being kept under his watchful eye was difficult to get out of. But that wouldn’t stop you from packing your bags. With your mind made up you had decided to flee— Grace was going to meet you at Site 26. But to get there you would need a chopper. Thankfully— Trudy had taken pity on your situation. She was someone you often confided in and was quick to realize the true colors of your relationship with the Colonel. Often— she would help in hiding you; away from his leering gaze. You were grateful for her help— knowing once the colonel caught wind of what you had done— and what she had done a punishment would be laid out for her ‘ insubordination ‘

Grace had welcomed you with open arms, ushering you inside as she rambled about her latest data collection. The place was in shambles to say the least— papers scattered across the floor and counters— it was Grace’s way of coping through her grief. Her wound was still fresh— unable to accepted what happened— the school was attacked by the RDA— ultimately resulting in the death of na’vi children. It was a difficult time for Grace— while you held no bonds with the na’vi you were still sympathetic towards them. But alas earth was dying and in need of resources fast— it was crue but it was to be done.

You settled down rather quickly, enjoying the beautiful scenery and the comforting presence Grace offered. You told her of your troubles; finding it difficult to keep it a secret. She was furious to say the least— insulted him with every curse she knew. A part of you was was overjoyed to see you weren’t alone in this situation; you had someone by your side — a part of you resented her for it after all none of this would of happened if it wasn’t for her

And she knew that— why else would she be so kind? The days had gone by quick— they were peaceful on your part. Morning sickness was a pain to get through— it left you exhausted and unable to cope with any other type of food that had a strong odor.

—

But the peace wouldn’t last for long— a chopper had landed near the site, a group of soldiers came rushing in with none other than Colonel Miles Quaritch leading his group of men. He had a mean look on his face, he stormed in; slamming doors against the walls. Grace was quick to stand up to your defense, a bubble of anger churning in her stomach. She despised him— oh how she hated him. She didn’t hold back on her curses, calling him every single profanity she could. She did anything to distract him from you— it’s the least she could

She was detained by his group of men, yelling her to calm down as she struggled against their cuffs. They dragged her off towards the chopper claiming Parker wanted to have a word with her due to her ‘ negligence’ You were alone now— with no one to protect you from the terrifying beast. A brief silence washed over, he kissed his teeth in annoyance ❝Found you— had me runnin’ around the base lookin for you ❞ his voice drawled out ❝— so, you what? Decided to run? Didn’t exactly think this through did you, Princess? ❞ his steps were menacing as he loomed over you. He cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone— an act of affection you were familiarized with. He gently coaxed your eyes to look up and meet his own— he looked relieved.

His other palm slid up your waist tugging you towards him. He tucked you underneath his chin, pressing against you— as if he was trying to mold your body to his. He relaxes for a brief moment of time, only able to calm himself feeling your warmth pressed up against his chest. His muscles loosen, eyes hazing; he wonders how things came to be like this— how he became like this. If you weren’t so supple and sweet— if you didn’t fit perfectly against him and make the prettiest of sounds for him— it wouldn’t of come to this. For a long time, there was a silence between you two. Then, he smiled, pearly white teeth shown, ❝ You know, for a while I thought it wasn’t gonna take, seeing as how many times my seed never took— but imagine my surprise when I find out you’re expecting— expecting my kid. My son— you didn’t exactly make it hard to find out ❞

His fingers pressed against your skin— bruising, almost, ❝you’re being an irresponsible mother to our son ❞ he hissed through his clenched teeth. ❝ Taken my son away from me— from his father ❞ You’re body trembled beneath his brushing holding, Miles notices it immediately; eyes softening in response. He releases a sigh; wary and tired— exhausted. A remorseful look crossed his face— but only a second; back to a stern cold look. He directly looks toward your protruding belly, his hand caresses your small bump— you have the urge to slap his hand away; to scream and yell. Do anything in your power to cause him harm, ❝ Things are going to change— starting with your attitude ❞

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━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"You spend half your life with dilated pupils I don't think you're nice And you treat me kinda cruel All your moves is crazy You compromise my safety All your friends are shady They tried to warn me vaguely You patronize me daily You never call me baby Or treat me like a lady And mainly quite frankly

You get on my damn nerves…"

Chlothegod – "UGOMDN"

A.N.: Content Warning. Discussions of abortion, blood & violence.

An abortion was impossible for Celeste to get under Louisiana State law.

Once Roe v Wade was abolished, the law in her state was activated to ban all abortions, regardless of whether a woman had been raped or was a victim of incest. Despite her fear, Celeste had to see a doctor after her third positive pregnancy test and increasing fatigue. She lived with horrendous morning sickness and suffered in silence. At a clinic, a sweet-faced young doctor told her she was about nine weeks along. The fetus was the size of a strawberry. Refusing to look at the ultrasound, she didn't want to acknowledge the being inside her as a baby. Especially when she wanted to get rid of it.

Under normal circumstances, the logical answer was to remove the fetus from her body by crossing state lines. But jumping up to take a trip to California suddenly wouldn't be easy. Celeste would have to find a discreet way to get away from L.A. relatives when she'd never been there before, find a clinic, have the abortion, and then lie around in bed for a day or two until she was okay. She wished she had female cousins her age to talk to, but the only other women relatives nearby were twice her age, jaded aunties who would curse her out for being so stupid about getting pregnant…by a vampire. She refused to share the news with her girlfriends, embarrassed that she let a dude knock her up on the first fuck. The one female cousin she had in L.A. that was only a couple of years older than her couldn't be trusted to keep her mouth shut if Celeste confided in her for a ride to a Planned Parenthood trip. It had to be a covert operation.

"Arrghhhh!"

Celeste screamed inside her car on the drive to the chicken processing plant. For the next twelve hours, she would sort chicken parts and blast-freeze them. The work was routine and boring, but paid well and she liked the co-workers who packaged the chicken on the graveyard shift with her. Anticipating relief from the city's heat, she couldn't wait. Freezing chicken in a controlled, cool environment saved her from thinking too much about her problems.

Sort. Push trays. Freeze. Toss frozen chicken parts into boxes. Rinse and repeat.

The hours ticked by and she settled into her work groove. The face mask covering her nose and mouth helped keep the stench of raw chicken from upsetting her stomach. She became so sensitive to odors lately that she didn't know how she could hide a pregnancy from her family. The hormonal changes fucked her up. She'd cry at the drop of a hat and get irritated so fast around people. Even at the chicken plant, she acted short with co-workers. Fatigue set in after six hours. Her snippiness was called out by the floor supervisor, and she took a break in the restroom to get her shit together. She sat on a toilet and cried, angry that she put herself in the position she was in. Plan B failed her. Her choice to let the man nut in her was ridiculous. She regretted not staying consistent on birth control pills after being with Freddie.

Covering her face with her hands, she berated herself for getting pregnant a second time in her life. The first time had been before she entered university. She'd been terrified then and confided in her cousin Micah, who stood by her in secret. He drove her to a clinic over in Slidell and let her stay with him and his family for a sleepover movie party to hide the fact that she needed a quiet place to recuperate. Micah was her favorite cousin, and she knew that he'd be the first to help her if she called, but she didn't want him to judge her for not heeding his warning about Terry. This time, she was on her own, and it killed her soul to know she was going back on her word to God about doing anything like that again. She swore as a frightened seventeen-year-old that she'd never have an abortion again if God could forgive her for terminating that one mistake.

The man who impregnated her as a teenager had been older, in his mid-twenties, and ended up getting killed by gun violence over in Shreveport when Celeste turned eighteen. She would've been an unwed teen mother with a dead baby daddy. Going back on her word brought her personal shame. As an adult woman, she should've done better. Being hot in the panties at seventeen didn't compare to being a grown ass fucking up.

Getting back on her grind, Celeste finished her shift and left the building quickly. She sat in her Charger and watched three male co-workers who car-pooled together in an old Honda leave before her from the parking lot. At three in the morning, the sky stayed dark enough to let the stars shine like little crystal buttons.

Her cell chirped.

Micah.

"Bitch, what's going on?" Micah said.

"Getting off work."

"I'm not askin' 'bout your job, cousin. What's going on with you?"

The noise of Bourbon Street droned on in the background of Micah's call. His club job didn't shut down until four in the morning.

"Nothin'. Just work…like I said."

"That redbone ever come back?"

"Terry ain't no redbone—"

"Whatever…you still fuckin' wit 'em?"

"No."

"Joyce called me and said you ran outta the Quarter like you seen the devil or something and she ain't hung witchoo since. Y'all been tight since gradeschool. Ain't like you to be anti-social, Duchess."

"Work has been kicking my ass…I just need time by myself."

"Quit one of them jobs, then."

"I need money to pay my rent and save up for my dream house."

"Nobody told you to go live in overpriced artsy-fartsy Marigny. Them old slave homes cost millions. Bitch, we from the Truh-May. You think two jobs and sewin' gonna pay for that in your lifetime? Unless these white folks give up some reparations, you stuck outchea grindin' for pennies on the dolla like the rest of us. Move in with me and you could save some real money."

"And watch you argue with your boyfriend and girlfriend all the time? I got enough drama without your chaotic poly life."

"Point is, cranky bitch, I've got plenty of room for you and a support system if you need it."

"Thank ya, cousin. I appreciate it. I'll file that away for emergencies."

"You need me to roll through and cook you breakfast when I'm done here?"

"No. I'm going to get in my bed and sleep until I gotta come back here tonight."

"You see a doctor about that anemia?"

"Yes. I'm not anemic. Just overworked."

Celeste let the lie sit. Micah didn't pester her further, and they ended their call promising to see each other at their grandparent's house for a Sunday dinner. She resolved to tell Micah the truth…about her pregnancy…and the vampires.

She started the engine of her car, and the Charger roared to life. Waving at incoming workers starting the next shift, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the long stretch of quiet state highway. A marine layer covered the road with an advection fog, reducing her visibility. She slowed down, played some music, and smoked. A violent coughing fit hit, and her stomach heaved. She threw the cigarette out of the window. The taste of nicotine on her tongue hit different. Like rotten meat.

While singing along to the radio, she noticed blinking hazard lights on the side of the road up ahead. An old Honda pulled to the side looked familiar. Her co-workers.

They milled about, looking forlorn.

She pulled up next to them and rolled down her passenger window halfway.

"What happened?" she asked.

Hector, a Honduran with a ready smile, leaned against her car. The other Black men with him watched the road for any oncoming cars in the fog.

"Blown tire."

"You have a spare?"

"Yeah, but no jack or lug wrench. None of us got Triple-A."

"I have a kit in the back. Hold on."

Celeste backed up behind them and hopped out of her car. The foggy air cooled her skin, and she hoped the temperature stayed that way all the way home. She popped her trunk and took out some small orange traffic cones with reflectors and spread them around her car and Hector's. One of the Black men, Shorty, who was over six feet tall, took out the equipment she had and started working on the tire. He did it all wrong, not even knowing how to use the foot jack she had.

"Stand back," she said, taking over tire duty.

The other guys thanked her and listened to music playing from their car. They lifted the blown tire from the wheelbase for her and Hector placed the spare on.

"Here, I can finish it up," Hector said.

He didn't know what he was doing, either.

"I got it, man. Don't get your ego hurt because a woman is doing this," she said.

She tightened each lug nut and patted the tire when she was done.

"Good to go," she said.

Hector pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his wallet.

"This is all the cash I have. Thanks for stopping and saving us from waiting around."

"Nah, Hector…keep that. Buy your kids some candy," she insisted.

"Y'all see that?" Shorty said.

Celeste and Hector peered over the roof of the Honda and looked to where the others had their attention. Massive oak trees with their sloping branches curved toward the ground like giant skeletal fingers, the fog whispering around them with an unnatural light that shouldn't have been possible without the moon. Four ominous figures moved toward them.

"Are those people hanging over there?" Quentin, a chubby co-worker asked.

Celeste quickly collected her tools and threw them in her trunk.

"We gotta leave!" she shouted.

Hector and the other men looked at her with confusion, but didn't move right away.

"The fuck—"

Shorty didn't finish his sentence before a mangy-looking white woman in a tattered trench coat jumped on his chest and ripped out his throat with feral teeth. The man's blood sprayed all over Celeste and she sprinted for her car, jumping in and cranking the engine. Fast-moving figures attacked and ravaged the other men. Celeste backed up and Quentin banged on her door with one hand, his other clutching the side of his neck that spurted blood like a geyser. She unlocked the passenger side, and he flung open the door to jump in.

It was too late.

A ferocious-looking white man with long, clawed fingers dragged Quentin out of her car. Celeste screamed and shifted gears, but someone punched in the tempered-glass on her side and dragged her through the window, slamming her onto the ground.

"No! No! No!" she screamed, her eyes unable to focus on how fast their attackers moved.

She immediately curled into the fetal position, closing her eyes and instinctively guarding her stomach in a protective hold, waiting for a death blow to rip her throat out.

What sounded like screams from hell reverberated all around her, and amidst the human cries for help and imploring moans to God from her co-workers, other blood-curdling shrieks rang out.

Someone lifted her by her locs and shoved her away from the Charger. She landed on her back with a hard thump to her head. Staring at the sky, she didn't move a muscle, the pain in her back and head disorienting her. Losing focus, she twisted her head to the side and watched Hector claw at the ground as his lifeblood drained onto the highway. Their eyes connected and Celeste could only observe in silence as life drained from his once shiny brown pupils. His blood pooled out toward her like a horrific black river.

A large pair of black leather lace-up boots stomped down in Hector's blood and walked through it like it was a useless puddle of liquid. She looked up, and The Deacon grinned at her with those sinister fanged grills.

"Well, well, well, Duchess…here we meet again with no barrier between us," he said.

Three of his female minions strode over next to him, their faces smeared with blood and gore. Only The Deacon's face looked clean from a feeding frenzy. The Goth, whose voice sounded a lot like the Dominique who claimed to have a package at Celeste's house, leaned in toward The Deacon.

"We finished killing that wild pack of feeders. They made a mess of the bodies… left blood everywhere. They didn't even have the intelligence to carry these blood bags into the trees," Dominique said.

Celeste tried to back away on her elbows with gravel digging into her sore skin. The Deacon reached down and grabbed her throat, stopping her pitiful escape.

"Let me kill her for you," the dark brown beauty said, crouching low. She swiped a clawed hand across Celeste's cheek, drawing blood.

Celeste hissed and whimpered at the pain. She squirmed under his grip and tried pulling her knees into her chest. The Deacon studied her carefully.

"She's defensive, but not for herself," The Deacon said.

The sound of a large vehicle pulled up. Celeste heard a sliding door and guessed that it was a van.

The Deacon kept a hand on her throat and used a claw-like nail from his other hand to slit her palm. He licked the blood that flowed out. His silvery-gray eyes stared at her with a look of shock.

"She's pregnant. It's a girl," he said.

His astonished voice made every vampire hover over Celeste, staring at her like she was a freak of nature and not them.

"Impossible!" the dark brown beauty yelled, sounding hurt.

The Deacon stared at the beauty and flicked his hand dismissively.

"Go make sure the ghouls handle the bodies and debris, Mia," The Deacon said.

His malevolent eyes softened, looking down at Celeste.

"We won't hurt you, Celeste. In fact, we will be your most ardent protectors because you carry something phenomenally priceless in your womb. I have lived several lifetimes and have yet to lay eyes on what you are about to bring into the world…a dhampir."

He stared deep into her eyes, probing them, and shook his head, gently helping her sit up.

"No…you will not abort this child. I know we may seem like horrid monsters to you because of the way we have to survive. But we are not different from you."

"You are bloodsuckers, you kill people…that's evil," Celeste said.

"You stupid humans don't kill people? Or slaughter other living creatures to feed yourselves?" Dominique barked.

"Dominique, chill," The Deacon said.

"They always think they're better. I'll be glad when our Morningstar wipes them from the earth."

"And what will we live on?" The Deacon said, annoyed.

Dominique rolled her eyes. Celeste noticed that none of the other vampires had silver eyes like The Deacon.

"Come now, get up young mother," he said.

He lifted her with a brawny arm and placed her back on her feet.

"You feel well enough to drive home?" he asked.

The sincerity of his tone threw her off. This was not the same angry and vicious vampire who beat at the door of her house, aiming to trick her for an invitation. She glanced past him and the other vampires. Two slinky individuals in dark clothes stacked Shorty and Quentin into a white van.

"Oh, God," Celeste said, turning her head away.

A third vampire minion stripped the last of Hector's clothes from his blood-soaked body and began eating him, starting at his feet. The loud crunch of bones breaking and human flesh being slurped down the worker's throat sickened her. She turned her head and lurched forward. A spray of vomit flew out of her mouth.

The Deacon chuckled and kicked dirt over it.

"Now you see what our clean-up crew does once we're done eating. They dispose of the bodies for us, leaving behind no trace like a crime scene unit. We're very efficient and prudent," he said.

The Deacon guided Celeste back to her car. Her mind couldn't fathom what was happening.

"They have children, families who will miss them…" she said.

The Deacon ignored her words.

The pale-skinned vampire pack that attacked her co-workers were left on the side of the highway and ignored. A ghoul who looked like a forgettable-looking citizen with a trim beard hopped into Hector's car and drove away. The van pulled off behind it.

"You aren't taking those dead vampires, too?" Celeste asked.

She wiped her mouth and gagged at the feel of vomit still left at the back of her throat. Coughing, then spitting, she did all she could to keep from throwing up again.

"The sun will destroy evidence of them. Our concern is that they don't properly hide their refuse."

"Refuse?"

Celeste's voice rose to an angry pitch.

"They're fucking people…humans with loved ones who are going to wonder what happened to them," Celeste screamed.

"You say that as if that's our fault," Dominique said, leaning against Celeste's car. "We didn't kill them."

The Deacon turned Celeste's face to look at him directly.

"We don't do that to people often. Our kind prefer to eat and release. We resort to killing only in self-defense or special circumstances."

"Your kind?"

"We are the top of our species' food chain. Those creatures are bottom feeders, the reason the Old Ones hunt us. They blame us for those inbred gutter dwellers. If we acted like them, do you know how many humans would disappear daily?"

"How come Terry can walk in the sun if he's one of you?"

"He's a Daywalker. The true apex predator. More powerful than us because he can kill the Old Ones during times we cannot. That's why we need him. He's our champion. If we're lucky enough, the baby in your womb will be like him. She would protect us, too."

"I'm not keeping it."

"Yes, you are. You call her Strawberry in your mind, because of her size. I could taste how attached she is to you, how much she loves you—"

"Stop fucking manipulating me. It's just a fetus with developing cells…a blob, and I'm going to stop another one of you from coming into this world. I'll find an Old One and tell them about you! I know what they are…gargoyles! Terry's great-granddaughter Miss Irma told me about them."

"Then you will doom yourself and that baby," Dominique said.

"It's not a baby! You're tricking me, trying to guilt me into keeping it."

"Rationalize your conflicted feelings how you want, Duchess. But your first instinct was to protect her. Ball yourself up. Even when I came to help you, you reacted by covering your stomach," The Deacon said.

Celeste's eyes watered.

"I can't have this baby…I can't have a monster."

"Does Terry look like a monster to you?" Mia asked.

Mia's eyes welled up. Tears fell down her face. The Deacon wiped them away.

"Mia…don't cry. She's only scared," he said.

"I'm scared for us, too," Mia said.

What the hell was happening?

Vampires afraid and crying?

The Deacon opened Celeste's driver side door. The ghouls had taken away her broken window. He traced a finger across her face and showed her the blood and bits of skin that stuck to her cheek and hair.

"You need a bath and some rest. We can't stop you in the daytime, so if you run off to…terminate…that's your choice. You don't know how profound this is for us and the hidden world. I beg you to reconsider. We'll fight anything that tries to harm you or the child."

"She doesn't want it. Let her end it," Mia screamed.

Mia's fangs were stained with blood from feeding on Celeste's co-workers, too.

"Time to go, Deacon. The sun will be up in two hours," Dominique said.

"Go home…sleep, Duchess," The Deacon said.

Celeste climbed into her car and drove off in a daze. Why didn't they kidnap her and force her to have it? They had the means and minions to do that.

From her rearview, she watched the vampires walk into the diminishing wisps of fog and vanish among the trees.

Chapter 12 HERE.

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Attached to You

Modern!AU

Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: I'm not a doctor nor am I medically trained, so, there are things here which are incorrect. Please ignore them and try to enjoy the piece as it is. Thank you.

Summary: After a one-night stand, you find out you are pregnant, thanks to your doctor's bad advice, it turned out that your pills weren't effective. Leaving you with a baby, you have lots of decisions to make.

"I only told you because you deserve to know. I don't want anything from you. I will deal with this myself." 

Your words rang in his head over and over again.

It had been almost two weeks since he last saw you and now, he wasn't sure what he was doing.

Billy couldn't stop thinking about you. How you smiled at him even when he could see you were close to a breakdown.

It was all meant to be one night. Something he had done many many times before.

When he saw you sitting alone at the bar, he was quick to make his move. Flirting with you was easy as you blushed at every word he said. He soon learned about an ex of yours, the guy, as you explained, was rather obsessive about you and didn't want to let go of you, which is why you were hiding in a bar.

And so, Billy took this as a sign and brought you home.

It wasn't meant to end like this. He always made sure to have a condom with him. All the time. Of course, the one time when he doesn't, he gets someone pregnant...

But even so, you didn't look mad, you didn't demand money or anything from him. You just smiled and moved on.

He didn't even know your name. All he had is a phone number.

"You can delete my number as well. I won't look for you. All I wanted is for you to know since you are the father."

Father.

A word that scared him.

A word which meant nothing to him as he too, never had a father.

The realization hit him like a cold shower, he didn't have a father, so he knows just how hard it is to grow up without one, and here he was, the exact same as his.

He will have a child, who won't know their father. Who will go through the same pain as he did. Who will see their mother slowly crumble under all the pressure.

He is no better than his own asshole father.

This was unfair. 

He could run. Men could run from the responsibility since they weren't attached to the baby, but women couldn't.

---

Billy felt like a piece of shit. 

It had been almost two months since he last saw you.

And he couldn't help but wonder what 'dealing with it' meant for you. Did it mean you got an abortion? Or did you keep the child?

This was eating him alive.

He needed to find you and have another conversation with you. But you didn't pick up the phone nor did you reply to any text he sent.

He set out to the club he originally met you.

"Why the fuck did I think a pregnant woman would be in a club?!"

IF you were still pregnant.

The next couple days were awful for him.

Trying to find you, he went to the café you invited him to, no sign, he went to a hospital and asked if they knew about you. But of course, they couldn't give out any information.

You were all he could think about. 

You and the baby he might have already lost.

Billy didn't feel like himself. 

And then, one day, he spotted you. As he was walking down the street when he noticed you on the other side. 

He followed you like a creep.

Dodging people, running. He followed you. Tried to call out but since he didn't know your name, it was difficult.

You went into a pharmacy and he stopped by the front door. His heart was beating fast, not only from running.

"Hi. I have some pills prescribed for me." he could hear you say. The pharmacist took a look and turned to you. 

"Can I ask for your full name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"You have... pregnancy vitamins prescribed by Dr Drew."

"Correct." you smiled. Oh God, that smile taunted him.

"Alright, let me get that for you."

He felt himself calm a little. Pregnancy vitamins. Why did they have to prescribe those for you anyway? But this meant you still had the baby.

"So, since this kind is... stronger, we recommend you take only one daily. If you skip a day do not take two the next day. Technically these are not vitamins, they are just called that. Is your pregnancy i-"

"The doctor said these are the best for my condition. So I need to take them."

"These are for you not the baby." she was rather rude as you tried to ignore her.

"I know."

"Alright, anything else I can give you?"

"Do you have any of those shooting creams? For when the skin stretches?"

"For the stretch marks? We have one, which is cold and another which is warm. One helps shoot the skin the other helps the marks to be less visible."

"I would like the one that shoots the skin, please. That would be all."

Billy watched as you paid for everything before he quickly exited so you wouldn't notice him.

Pregnancy vitamins... for you not for the baby. And you had a condition?

He watched as you walked away, but as you did a man ran into you. The man continued on while you nearly fell over.

"Watch where you are going, Asshole!" Billy pushed the man as he passed him, before he helped you. "Are you okay?"

He only realized that he was now holding your arm as you looked up at him. When did he get this close to you?

"O-Oh, yes. I'm fine thanks." he saw it in your eyes, you realized who he was soon after as you took a step back. "Thank you." you adjusted your bag before starting to walk and he knew he couldn't let you leave.

"Can we-Can we talk, Y/N?" he suddenly spoke up and you turned to him.

"If you want to." he nodded and you guided him to a nearby park and sat down on a bench.

An awkward silence filled the air. 

He knew he needed to talk. 

He took a deep breath.

"I was scared when you said you would deal with it, that you meant... abortion."

"I'm not going to lie, I thought about every option. It was one of them but... I decided against it."

"I-I heard you at the pharmacy..."

"Oh, you were there?" you looked up at him, genuinely surprised. 

"You got some meds..." he nodded as he pointed at your bag. 

"I-The doctor said it is okay to take pregnancy vitamins. But it turned out that I was the one needing them, not the baby. The doctor said my body puts the baby as a priority and takes away nutrition from me. We found out during my eight weeks when I asked the doctor if it was normal that I feel very dizzy. He did some checks and yeah. But... why are you asking me this?"

"Because for the last weeks, I couldn't stop thinking about you and the baby."

"You don't have to. You are not guilty or anything."

"I grew up without a father. I saw my mother going through so much shit. I don't want you to go through all that. I want to be a father to my child. Someone I never had."

You took a moment to fully digest what he just said. He waited anxiously for an answer. 

"Look, I will have a baby soon, a baby who can become attached. If they become attached to you and then you later decide that you don't want to do this... I believe that is worse. So, while I do appreciate your concerns, I was nothing more to you than a quick fuck. It is... unfortunate, that I got pregnant, but as I said it is something I am dealing with. So, please, if you don't mean it, don't get involved. You might think now that you want to be a part of this because you pity me or whatever, but if you change your mind..."

"I don't want to change my mind. Yes, it was meant to be a one-night stand but I can't ignore a child. My child. I'm not a coward. I want to be a part of the life of this little one." 

You looked into his eyes, trying to figure him out. He looked serious. Maybe he really had a change of heart during the last couple months. You pulled out your wallet and a picture from it. You handed it to him.

He looked at the ultrasound.

"I'm currently 11 weeks along. The baby is 41mm long. The doctor said it's the size of a fig. We don't know the gender just yet, but they are healthy."

"Healthy. Good." he wanted to hand back the photo but you didn't take it.

"I have more at home, you can have that. I have a check-up next week, you could come if you have time."

"I'll be there."

You stood up and were about to walk away when you turned to look at him.

"If you don't come next week. I mean without a good reason, I don't want you to come after. I am already very attached to this little fig, and I don't want them hurt."

"I'll be there, text me the time and place."

You nodded before saying goodbye and walking away.

He stayed, looking at the picture.

"My little fig." he smiled before he too, headed home.

---

Honestly, you were shocked to see him at the doctor's the next week. 

Every time he showed up.

He started to take you out to eat afterwards and started to ask more and more questions.

Billy asked you to move into his place which you didn't want but you did go over to his place many times.

You spent most of your weekends there. And lately, you even spent your nights there. In a separate room, but you did stay.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhhh! I heard babies can hear voices, I'm talking to them so they would recognize me when they are born." you shook your head as you continued to look at stuff on your phone. Subconsciously, one of your hands found his hair. You started to run your fingers through his locks as he continued to softly speak to the baby.

"We should get married." you nearly threw your phone at the TV.

"What?" you sat up so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. He moved with you as he sat in front of you. The expression on his face was as serious as ever.

"You heard me. Marry me?"

"Why would I... What? No. Just because of the baby? That is-"

"Logical. We get married, you take my last name and the baby does too. It is logical."

"Did you hit your head or something?"

"What? Why?"

"You? Marriage?"

"Yes."

"Like in the old days? You get the woman pregnant and so you have to marry her?"

"I was thinking more about the baby and you. In case something happens to me, you two would be good on money."

"I don't want your money."

"I know you don't, I am giving it to you and the baby. We don't have to, but you can think about it."

"I honestly don't know."

"I know you probably wanted to marry out of love, fuck I never wanted to get married but here I am. With a baby on the way and with you. You are such an amazing girl, Y/N. I'm happy that you are the mother of my baby."

'"I'm very glad to hear that Billy, however, marriage is a big thing. Now don't get me wrong I have heard about people getting married for less and I'm not the biggest in the love department either. I truly believe you should marry someone you can see yourself for the rest of your life with and not be crazy in love with them but..."

"You told me this before. You said 'but you still believe that there should be love for marriage and not like love between friends.' And then you started crying because you couldn't explain yourself fully and I had to get you ice cream."

"Exactly."

"What would make you want to marry me?"

You placed your hand on his cheek.

"You might think now that its a good idea. You might think now that you would want me by your side forever, but I know Billy that one day, you would look at me and be disappointed that you married me because of our baby. One day you will be in a club, surrounded by girls and drinks and you won't think of me or our child, I want a loyal husband, and I wouldn't want you to throw the accusation at me, saying that you only married me for the baby and you would end up hating me."

"You believe that would happen? That I would regret it all and I would... what? Blame you for it?"

"Yes."

"You think that lowly of me?"

"No, I think that lowly of myself." you let out a sigh. "Look Billy, tell me that we are not here just because of the baby. You wouldn't be here if I wasn't pregnant. You would be out there as you were before. You don't want me, you want the baby. And that is completely fine. And it is all I can ask for. For you to love the kid. That's it."

"But I do love you. You are the mother of my child. How can I not?"

"Billy, please. You only care for me because of the baby. And I know that and it's okay."

Billy wanted to tell you that it wasn't true. That he truly cared for you. More than you could imagine.

He wanted to lift all of your insecurities and show you just how amazing you were.

But he did. Because he was afraid. 

Not of losing his old life, but of losing you. 

If you didn't believe him like this, he will prove his love in other ways.

---

You smiled as you saw the roses on the table. They looked amazing. 

Beautiful white roses with a little note.

You debated picking it up and reading it until you saw your name on the paper.

'To my beautiful wife' it read on the inside and it made you scoff.

Since when did he become such a romantic?

You let out a long sigh. 

Billy was trying way too hard. You were afraid one day he will realize this is not what he wants and just pack up and leave.

You were terrified that he will make you get used to his closeness and then pull away, leaving you to fall alone.

You really tried to keep your distance, to not fall in love or to not harbour feelings that would hurt you.

You really tried but it was very difficult because each time you saw his eyes sparkle as he looked at you, each time at the doctor's when he asked something about you or the baby, it made you feel so safe and happy.

When he asked you to marry him, you were ready to say yes. It was your first thought when he asked the question but then you realized your situation.

He doesn't love you to get married. He wants the baby around and that's fine.

You felt like you were lulling yourself into false realities and you couldn't let that happen.

Not with you becoming a mother.

Not with you knowing about his past. It felt like wherever you went you could see girls staring at you, eyeing you up and down. The dark thought of who he had slept with was always in the back of your head.

You knew you should let it go.

But it is easier said than done. 

You were making lunch when Billy arrived home.

"Here you are. I actually wanted to go out for food, but I guess its too late now."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers." you gave him a small smile.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, they are beautiful."

"And the card?" 

"Card?"

"Yes, wrote it myself actually. Did you like it?"

You turned back to the oven and got the pan out. Billy only shook his head as he smirked before he left to take a quick shower.

Soon, he joined you at the table.

Eating the chicken you made.

"I have an appointment tomorrow."

"I know. It's baby gender time." he smiled.

"Yeah. What would you prefer? A boy or a girl?"

"Either is fine really. What about you?"

"I thought I wanted a son, but lately I have been imagining a little girl and I realized I would be fine with any really."

"Should we have one of those crazy gender reveal parties?"

"Oh gosh, no! You know I hate to be the centre of attention. I'm fine if the doctor tells us."

"Just an idea. Then I can at least finish their room."

"Oh, I did order more things. I wanted to wait for you with the furniture though. Since you want to paint the room."

"We will know the gender tomorrow, so I can paint this weekend, then we can look at furniture and finish it up in a couple weeks." he nodded. "We are a good team, Y/N."

"Yeah, we are." you agreed as you finished your chicken and went to wash your plates.

Soon, you felt his arms move around you as you put the dishes to dry.

The way he held you, you let yourself imagine what if he loved you. What if the baby wasn't an accident? What if he wanted to be here for you?

"Y/N, marry me."

"Billy," you groaned as you turned in his arms, seeing the serious expression on his face you fell silent.

"I am serious. I love you both so much, please, marry me." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, it was a jewellery box so it had to be a ring. And as he opened it, sure enough, it was. A rather expensive looking one at that. "I want to give you and our child the world. I want us to be a real family. Would you marry me?" You needed a moment to think.

"Yes. I will marry you." he smiled as he placed the ring on your finger, pulling you in for a breath-taking kiss.

"I love you so much." he said as his lips moved to your neck. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to the bedroom.

"I love you too," you whispered to him as he began to remove your clothes, kissing your baby bump.

His eyes were filled with love, you couldn't look away.

---

The next day, you lay on the examination table with butterflies in your stomach.

You will finally know if you are having a girl or a boy.

Billy stood beside you, holding your hand as he smiled.

"As you can see, the head, two little hands and legs." the doctor said pointing everything out on the screen. "Are we ready to know the gender?"

"Yes." you said as Billy squeezed your hand.

"Let's see... Looks to be a little girl." she said as you looked at Billy whose eyes were glued to the monitor, smiling softly to himself.

"Then we can get the pink shoes you have been eyeing." you said as he finally looked at you.

During a recent trip to the mall, you found him in the kid's section when you were looking for some clothes. You found him standing there with a pink princess shoe in his hand as he smiled at the pink glittery object.

"Looks like we can." he said before he moved to place a kiss on your forehead.

You were really glad you judged him wrong.

You were glad he turned out to be a loving person and he grew into his potential. You knew he will be an amazing father and husband. 

Judging by the small smile on his face, it said it all.

The little girl had him wrapped around her tiny little fingers and she wasn't even born yet.

When the doctor left to print out the photos for you, he turned to you, kissing your lips.

"I love you so much." he said before moving back to look at the screen. In the end, it was Billy who became attached to you and your daughter. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you as all of your insecurities and worries left your body.

All that was left was happiness. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[certifiedsexed]

Hi, hope you're doing well 👋

I'm in my mid 20s, AFAB and have PCOS. I recently had penetrative sex for the first time. It was unprotected but I don't think he ejaculated inside (he said he didn't and I didn't feel like he did, but I wouldn't really know how that feels either).

I took a morning-after pill the next day (less than 12 hours after having intercourse), it contained ulipristal acetate.

Ever since then I've been really paranoid that I'm gonna get pregnant, I've been to my gynecologist since then and she said I should just wait for my next period and try to relax because the stress might delay my period even more (I'm not regular because of my PCOS, the most regular my periods are is usually like 40~ days apart but sometimes I skip a whole month entirely)

I'm not currently taking any medication for my PCOS (just folic acid), my gynecologist said after my next period ends she's gonna start me on birth control since I plan on becoming more sexually active and it will also help manage some of my PCOS symptoms.

I'm so scared of getting pregnant I've been having nightmares about it, pregnancy is one of my biggest fears (also I live in a place where abortion isn't legalized). I don't want to know the exact statistics because unless it's a flat 0% I don't think it would reassure me at all.

So I guess I just wanted to get some reassurance, someone to tell me it's very unlikely that I will get pregnant from this experience (there's no one in my real life I can go to for this). One of my worries is that since I have PCOS it somehow made the morning-after pill not work or something like that, I don't know, is that possible?

Sorry for the lengthy ask, thanks in advance for answering and have a nice day ❤️

Hi! Thank you, you too! 💕

Just so that you're aware, someone does not have to ejaculate inside you to cause pregnancy! Pre-ejaculate can also contain sperm, which is what can get you pregnant. It's rarer but can still happen.

You also don't necessarily have to feel it to tell if someone ejaculated inside of you. An easy way to tell is feeling inside of you with a finger and checking if there's cum, though if it was just pre-ejaculate or even just a very small amount of ejaculate, its much harder to tell.

I understand being scared of getting pregnant. It's unfortunately a common worry, especially in places without [free/stable] abortion access. Getting on birth control for that and your PCOS sounds like a good idea, I'm glad your doctor is being helpful!

Your PCOS isn't going to negate the morning-after-pill. Unless someone wants to jump on here to correct me, I've never read anything about PCOS messing with that. Actually, PCOS often makes it harder for people to get pregnant, Anon!

No apologies needed, thank you for trusting me to answer! I hope this helps a little, let me know if you have any other questions! <3

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

AEW/ NJPW Wrestlers Pregnancy Headcannons

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Main Masterlist

Wrestlers Mentioned: El Phantasmo, Drilla Moloney, Clark Connors, PAC, Jon Moxley

(Mentions of abortion)

El Phantasmo

It was no secret Riley had been going through a touch time. He was depressed, he felt alone. All his friends had moved on from New Japan yet he coudn't get himself to leave the place he called home for so many years. When you found out you were pregnant you were shocked. You didn't think it would happen so soon. Sure you and Riley talked about wanting to start a family but now that you were pregnant you started to have second thoughts. When you told Riley you were pregnant he was over the moon. It was like he was relieved. His mood was instanly changed. He was instantly out of his depressive state. RIley was so exited to be a dad, he was contanly buying things for the new baby and woudn't leave your side. He was so supportive and encouraging during your whole pregnancy. There was nothing he woudn't do. The two of you ended up having a son and he and Riley instantly became best friends. It was almost like your son saved Riley.

Drilla Moloney

You were terrified when you found out you were pregnant. You and Dan where nothing more than friends that sometimes slept together. You didn't want to tell him about the pregnancy, in fact you didn't even want to keep the baby. Your friends convinced you to at least tell Dan about the baby before making any decisions. When you told him about the baby he was mortified. He was in no state to have a child. Dan was supportive during the process, he went with you all your appotiments and was understanding when you told him you didn't want to go through with the pregnancy. At the end of the day your relationship grew closer due to all of it.

Clark Connors

When you found out you were pregnant you knew it was more than likley you would have to do it on your own. Clark was terrfied when he found out he was going to be a father. All he did was party and do drugs, simular to what you did. He saw how easy it was for you to get your act together and get clean after finding out you were pregnant but knew he wouldn't be able to follow suit. For the majority of your pregnancy you were alone. It was hard, it was depressing. You didn't know how you would be able to raise a daughter on your own, especially in this economy. You called Clark dozens of times but it was no worth it. Two weeks before you have birth to your daughter Madaline, Clark showed up at your front door in tears. His hands were filled with gifts as he begged for foegiveness. He explained how he checked himself into a rehab and got sober. He admited to being a jerk and was genuinely sorry. He wanted to be apart of you and your daughters life. Clark would end up being a great dad. He spoiled your daughter and would play dress up with her. In fact he was such a good Dad you would end up having 3 more kids together.

PAC

Pac and his son were best friends. It was like you cloned your husband. Your son Wyatt was a absolute menance, he was a little bastard like his father. I just know Pac and his son would get up into trouble. The two of them were in a constant prank war to see who could scare you the most. He would teach Wyatt how to hunt, fish, fight and more than likley some illegal things aswell. When you told Pac you were first pregant the look on his face told you he was planning on knocking you up. You wondered if he replaced your birth control for sugar pills. I feel like Pac would be obsessed with your pregnant body, he loved the way your skin glowed and body changed. He wanted to keep you pregnant all the time.

Jon Moxley

Mox is such a girl Dad (I mean look at him and Nora). He would spoil your daughter to death. From a far he looked scary. He was always that sketchy looking guy at the park that often scared the other parents. But up close he loved your daughter. He would spend hours playing with her. She would play dress up with him, do this makeup and play with dolls together. Mox's soft spot was his daughter. Even though he did lots of "girlie' things with your daughter he made sure to teach her every sport. He would teach her Death Jitsu and how to fend for herself in the scary world. When you told him you were pregnant he was so happy. He coudn't wait to be a dad. He truly is the best father.

[jaydenix]

20 years on, Sokka is still one of the best male role models in all of media

We need more young men written like him

What's there not to love about Sokka? As ATLA's resident comic relief guy, crazy shit that happens to him is always a good laugh. He's full of himself and overconfident which combined with a stellar voice acting performance by Jack DeSena makes for a very fun character. But one of the most intriguing things about him is his relationship with manhood.

Sokka begins the show very close-minded on the subject of gender, he believes he's just innately better than woman (especially Katara) because he is a man. At this point he thinks he's on top of the world and he knows everything. After all, he has been put in a great position of power in protecting his tribe after the men left to fight. For what his world currently is his quite on top of things, but his world is about to expand 100 times over.

Once Aang arrives he's tasked with coming along with him and and his sister to head to the North Pole, but early on they arrive on Kyoshi Island and meet the Kyoshi Warriors, this is what begins to break down his superiority complex where he challenges his later girlfriend Suki to a fight and she fucks up his shit. This causes him to unravel what he believes about gender, that he is better than women because he is a man. But his adventure with becoming a man has only just begun.

Throughout the rest of the show, we uncover more about Sokka having to be left behind by his father, he was just barely not old enough to go away to fight and that hurt him real bad, he feels his ability to fight made him a man, but this robbed right out from under him due to his age. Though having spent 2 years stuck without seeing his father and having spent several months out flying around on a bison taking on the Fire Nation, of course he becomes way stronger and way smarter perhaps not dissimilar to how he would've done if he was able to go off and fight 2 years prior. Eitherway, when he finally sees his father and the men of the Southern Water Tribe again at the end of book 2, he's understandably incredibly nervous because he's unsure of how they'll respond. He's left wondering whether they will see him as a man? And of course, they all do, they shake his hand and one of them is comparing heights as he's gotten a lot bigger, he's now an equal to them. They left him a boy, but they reunited with a man. And the classic moment where Hakoda says to him "aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle" like FUCK yeah man Hakoda doesn't even give a second thought here to his son's manhood he just knows his boy is all grown up I love him.

Now, you all know this, so why am I talking about it? Well, Sokka is such an incredibly positive representation of masculinity: his journey to manhood doesn't involve being better or putting down women or anyone for that matter. It even challenges him on this when he thinks thats what it involves. Being a man to him is knowing where you're needed the most, and he fulfils that by trying to bring about peace in the world and helping his friends and others. This is what masculinity should be.

It seems right now a lot of young men are being radicalised into far-right red-pill ideologies which promote masculinity as mistreatment of others. How on earth do we solve this issue to prevent men diving head first into the brazen misogyny of people like Andrew Tate? I don't know, but a lot of people are increasingly frustrated with hardships in this modern world and look for some kind of scapegoat. Now, don't get me wrong, it's really easy to not be a flaming misogynist, and the grievances that the MRA/manosphere lobby enjoy highlighting like idk men being more lonely supposedly? Or not being able to find "ideal" partners because of the woke anti-men feminism mob or whatever? Whereas feminists point to you know things like rape? And abortion restriction? And domestic violence? Real actual issues that affect millions of women all over the world every single day? Undoubtedly I think a lot of men need to do a bit more critical thinking. But perhaps a small part of solving this problem might just be more shows and movies and media portraying young men like Sokka who learn to embrace a non-toxic and healthy form of masculinity. Maybe this will help even just a few young boys not be pulled into these dangerous ideas as they have their own independent idea of how to be a man that was guided through well written and interesting characters. Though of course there's a lot more to it as well, this is just one thing I've thought of.

"One is not born, but becomes a woman" is a common quote thrown around in feminism, and to me Sokka is the perfect example of someone who wasn't born, but became a man through his own good actions.

👏 More 👏 Young 👏 Men 👏 Like 👏 Sokka 👏 Please 👏

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 13

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: Shane's role in the group comes into question, Carl is up and healing, and everyone seems to be pissed off at something. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; carl learns how to whittle, writer mentions whittling ducks (inescapable halsin reference), carl steals a gun, a few group members learn to shoot, maggie gets pissed after a close call, mentions of pregnancy, (suggestions of) infidelity and abortion (copious amounts of morning after) pills, death threats

Chapter 13 - Gunslinging

Carl was up and walking the next morning, taking it easy and helping Lori feed the chickens with Patricia. He seemed to be doing okay, but Iris noted a few cynical comments from him that raised some eyebrows. 

Glenn was hiding something, and it almost amused Iris more to follow him and watch him try to keep it to himself than to get him to come clean. He brought some fruit over to Dale and T-Dog while they were setting up the RV’s awning and had practically told them there was something dreadfully wrong.

Daryl was back in his tent, relaxing, though slightly annoyed he wasn’t out and about with the others. He knew better than to strain himself further. He’d forgiven Andrea already for trying to protect the group, but Iris was still annoyed that Shane gave her a gun in the first place.

Rick and Shane entertained Jimmy around their search map, Shane looking for spots for them to start training the others with guns. Even Patricia and Beth seemed interested in learning how to protect themselves.

Iris watched the interaction from the RV stairs, Carl standing beside her as she taught him how to whittle. He was mostly skilled in sharp, pointy sticks so far, but learning how to work the knife was the first step. He wore Rick’s hat around now that Rick’d ditched the uniform, and it suited him, despite being a little big.

“How’s it coming?” She asked, pulling her own knife away from the slowly-forming duck shape in her hand. Carl showed her the stick and she nodded. “See if you can make rings around the wood, try to make ‘em even.” He accepted the challenge, holding the knife carefully as Shane meandered over from Rick and their map.

“Nice lid, man.” He commented on the hat. “What’s going on?”

“We’re whittling.” Carl said with a grin. Shane nodded, observing the stick. He took a seat nearby, stretching out his legs. Carl put the knife into his pocket, turning to Shane. “I want to learn to shoot, too. Can you teach me?”

“Well, man, that’s up to your parents.” Shane replied with a chuckle.

“He asked me, too.” Iris stated, giving Carl a pointed look. 

“Can you talk to them? They’ll listen to you.” Shane laughed.

“We’ll see, okay?” He answered. Carl nodded dejectedly, turning away

“Hey. What you got there?” Iris asked as he turned, a flash of black peeking out from under his shirt. Carl lifted the shirt, displaying the small revolver he’d found somewhere tucked into his pants. Iris and Shane looked to one another, the former holding out his hand expectedly. 

They told Carl to go sit down at the camp and wait while Shane and Iris brought the gun to Rick and Lori. 

“How the hell did this happen?” Lori asked, checking the ammo before tucking the gun into the waistband of her own jeans. Dale had his hands shoved in his pockets, glancing over at the young boy.

“It’s my fault, I let him into the RV. He said he wanted a walkie, that you sent him for one.” Dale explained. Rick sighed.

“So on top of everything else, he lied?” Lori asked, looking to her husband expectantly. “What’s he thinking?”

“He wants to learn how to shoot.” Shane stated. “He asked me and Iris both to teach him, separate times. Now it’s none of my business, but I’m happy to do it. It’s your call.”

“I’m not comfortable with it.” Lori replied with a humourless laugh. Rick didn’t say anything, looking up at Shane. “Oh, don’t make me the unreasonable one, here, Rick.”

“I know. I have my concerns too, but—“

“There’s no but. He was just shot.” Lori interrupted sternly. “He’s just back on his feet and he wants a gun?”

“Better than him being afraid of ‘em.” Rick countered.

“Maybe you could tide him over with a little gun safety.” Iris suggested. “As a start. Once he shows he’s responsible enough, he knows the rules, you can decide if he should learn more.”

“There are guns in this camp for a reason, he should learn to handle them safely.” Rick agreed. Lori scoffed and shook her head.

“I don’t want my kid walking around with a gun.” She stated plainly.

“But how can you defend that?” Rick asked. “You can’t let him go around without protection.”

“He’s as safe as he’ll ever be, right here.” Lori snapped. Rick sighed and she put up a hand. “Look, everything you’re saying makes perfect sense. It just feels wrong. I mean, I didn’t feel good about him following you out into the woods and I wish I’d said something. I should have gone with my gut.”

“He’s growing up— thank God. We’ve got to start treating him more like an adult.” Rick protested.

“Then he needs to act like one.” Lori said loudly, turning to her son. “He’s not mature enough to handle a gun.”

“I’m not gonna play with it, mom.” Carl said, standing and walking over. “It’s not a toy. I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I want to look for Sophia and I want to defend our camp. I can’t do that without a gun.”

“Shane’s the best instructor I know.” Rick said quietly, turning back to Lori. Iris smiled down at Carl, giving him a wink. She was proud of him for saying that. “I’ve seen him teach kids younger than Carl.” Lori blinked at her husband, staring for a moment before clamping her jaw shut and walking over to Carl. She gripped his face in one hand lightly, turning him up to face her.

“You will take this seriously.” She said firmly. “And you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anyone in this camp that you’re not living up to our expectations—“

“He wont let you down.” Rick said, looking to his son pointedly. Carl nodded, looking up at his mom.

“Yeah.” He agreed. She squeezed his face before walking away.

“Now if you’re gonna do this, you listen to Shane.” Rick said.

“Okay, Dad.”

“Alright? You be careful.” He sent him off toward the cars as Shane and a few others started loading up the SUV and station wagon. Guns, ammo, things they could use for practice.

“You coming?” He asked Iris as she followed Carl.

“Yeah, I can be on walker duty.” She replied and he nodded.

“Glenn?”

“Nah, I told Dale I’d help him… clean the spark plugs on the RV.” Glenn replied, clearing his throat to hide the nervous tremor. Iris snorted loudly. “He’s gonna teach me mechanics. I should probably go look for him.”

“You found me.” Dale said, leaning against the small bench swing near the RV, raising an eyebrow. “He’s a good learner.” Iris and Shane exchanged a smirk as they got into the car, Shane starting up the engine.

They drove quickly to the spot Shane had scouted with the others following, and Shane quickly set up a line of old wine bottles, some filled with a bit of water, along the fence. Each one of them had a gun, holding them forward and shooting to the best of their ability. Shane walked along behind them like a sergeant, correcting form and straightening posture. Rick came out to watch for a while, mildly impressed by a few of them.

“Jimmy. You’re not a gangster from New Jersey. Hold the gun straight.” Iris called, noting the fact that the boy on the end was holding the gun with one hand, and sideways. He glanced back at her, putting both hands on the gun and holding it up and down before firing. The bullet shattered the glass of the bottle and she nodded. 

Andrea was particularly enjoying the shooting lessons, with good enough aim. She mostly liked showing off in front of Shane, it seemed.

“I’d say she’s got the hang of it.” Shane stated.

“I’d say she’s ready for the advanced class.” Rick joked. “Might be worth your while after the rest of us head back to camp.”

“Sure, why not?” Andrea agreed, though Iris could see how giddy she was. 

“Better watch your back, Shane. She might shoot you.” Iris taunted. Andrea turned around.

“You got a problem?” She asked, annoyed.

“Yeah, a little bit. I got a problem with the fact that everyone apparently forgot that you shot one of us yesterday. You need glasses or something?” Iris spat.

“Oh yeah? Since when are you one of us?” Andrea retorted. “Daryl forgave me, okay? I said I was sorry, and I am.” Iris scoffed, shaking her head.

“Whoa, whoa, ladies, c’mon now.” Shane interrupted, coming to stand between them. Andrea backed off a little, but in all honesty she was somewhat frightened by the fire in Iris’ eyes. 

“I’m heading back.” Iris mumbled. “Gonna walk.”

Iris needed to cool off, that was for sure. She was irritated. To be fair to Andrea, Daryl did forgive her. But Iris had a hard time with it. She was frustrated that they weren’t making progress, toward finding Sophia, toward Fort Benning, any of it. She’d heard Hershel and Rick arguing, she knew that Hershel wanted them all to leave. That they weren’t welcome. Except Rick kept that to himself, and Iris was growing impatient. 

There were things all of them needed to learn. Things Iris had to do the hard way. She lost everyone, and they didn’t know what that felt like. Maybe Andrea did, but she still had her group. And she almost threw them away like they were nothing, giving up, opting out. Iris had had plenty of opportunity to kill herself. But she wouldn’t. She felt an obligation to the world, to these people, now.

Maybe this was all just pent up emotion coming out. It probably was. But when Iris returned alone to the farm, she stuck to herself. She spent a few hours throwing her knives into a target she carved into a tree. Dale and Glenn asked if she was alright a while ago, and took her silence as an answer.

After a while, she started to sweat in the hot Georgia sun, and reached for her bandana to tie her hair back. She realized then that it was gone. She’d used it to prevent Daryl from bleeding to death in the woods. Iris would never said she regretted it, and she didn’t, but she did miss the bandana. It was Felix’s. 

-

Iris looked up from helping Lori fold laundry as Glenn and Maggie stormed through the camp. Well, Maggie did the storming and Glenn followed her sheepishly. Everyone else had dispersed across the farm, and apparently Shane and Andrea were out looking for Sophia.

“Hey! We got your stuff.” Maggie snapped, slamming the gate behind her, right into Glenn. Lori looked up, somewhat alarmed.

“Maggie, hang on, please.” Glenn pleaded. Lori looked around frantically for other people, glancing nervously down at Iris, who was very confused.

“Come on in here.” Lori called, gesturing for Maggie to follow her into her tent, but Maggie was not having it.

“Why? Nothing to hide, we got your special delivery right here.” She yelled, shoving her arm into the paper bag. “We got your lotion, got your conditioner, your soap opera digest—“

“Maggie—“ Lori breathed.

“Next time you want something, get it your damn self. We’re not your errand boys.” She hissed.

“Honey, I—“

“And here’s your abortion pills.” Maggie snapped, throwing them into the dirt before shoving Glenn away, storming off. Iris’ mouth fell open, and she stayed silent as Lori scrambled to pick the pills up off of the ground. Glenn shot Lori an apologetic look before running after Maggie. Lori had tears in her eyes as she crouched, a hand to her mouth. She turned to Iris with a pleading look.

“I won’t say a word.” Iris whispered, shaking her head. Lori’s tears slipped down her face. “No judgement whether you take them or not. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” Lori murmured. She practically collapsed into Iris’ arms, breathing deeply. Iris rubbed her back comfortingly, staring after Glenn and Maggie. Something must have happened. Maggie had blood on her shirt, but they both seemed fine. Hopefully Glenn could make her feel better.

Glenn came back a little while later, Lori and Iris sitting at the table inside her large tent. 

“The blood on Maggie’s shirt?” Iris asked.

“She was attacked.” He confirmed.

“Are you guys alright? How bad was it?” Lori asked.

“It was pretty close.” He replied, stepping inside and taking a seat next to Iris, running his hands through his hair. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” Lori said, shaking her head. “I should never have asked you to go.”

“I offered.” Glenn replied, shaking his head.

“I thought the town was safe, but if you hadn’t come back—“

“But we did. I always do.” He assured. He had another bag in his hands and he messed with it as he looked down. “The morning-after pills— will they even work?”

“I don’t know.” Lori replied. “And I don’t know if I want them to.”

“Then, I got these too, just in case.” Glenn said, putting the paper bag on the table in front of her. She unwrapped the bag, pulling out two bottles of prenatal vitamins. Iris couldn’t hold back her small smile, and neither could Lori.

“That’s a hell of a choice.” Lori murmured.

“I’m glad it’s not mine.” Glenn stated honestly. “Lori… we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“With everything we’ve been through— yeah.” Lori replied quickly. He shook his head.

“I can’t tell you what to do— I could never tell you something like that. But your choice… maybe you shouldn’t make it alone.” He said nothing more before standing, putting his hand on Iris’ shoulder before ducking out of the tent.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit. I’ll be nearby if you need me.” Iris said softly. Lori nodded, putting her head in her hands as Iris left her to think.

Shane and Andrea returned a little while later, with no sign of Sophia. They looked a little tired and had some walker blood on them, but no worse for wear. Yet, Iris could have sworn she saw a hickey. Dale seemed as equally suspicious of them. Iris nodded to Shane as he walked past, but Dale followed after him.

“Shane, I was thinking, you’ve got that nice new ride of yours, plenty of fuel, more than enough for you to get far from here.” Dale said sharply. Iris’ eyebrows shot up. Shane was… problematic, sometimes, but no one yet had outright asked him to leave. 

“What, you telling me to leave?” Shane asked, glancing at Iris before looking back to Dale. It appeared that Iris would witness many a-private argument today.

“I know you’ve been planning to.” Dale said simply. “Maybe now’s a good time.” Shane looked to Iris, who stayed frozen, before huffing a laugh.

“Is this about Andrea?” He asked, narrowing his gaze.

“I’m looking out for the group.” Dale answered.

“You think the group would be better off without me, Dale? Why don’t you tell that to Rick or Lori? Their boy would be dead if I hadn’t put my ass on the line.”

“They’d be pretty disappointed if they knew you were using that as an excuse to save your own ass.” Iris said lowly. She wouldn’t let Carl become a bargaining chip for this bullshit.

“You risked yours, and Otis’s.” Dale pointed out. Shane said nothing, shaking his head and turning away. “Yeah, you’ve been vague about that night, about what happened.”

“Otis died a hero.” Shane said simply, turning back around.

“So you’ve said.” Dale replied accusingly. 

“A little boy lived because of what went down that night.” Shane glowered. “I think you oughta show some gratitude.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“No, man, you weren’t.”

“But I was the time that you raised your gun on Rick.” Dale continued.

“What?” Iris asked, standing up.

“Come on. Jesus.”

“You had him in your sights and you held him there.” Dale continued. “I know what kind of man you are.” Shane stared down at the ground for a moment before looking up through his eyebrows. Iris had no love for the look in his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“You think I’d shoot Rick?” He breathed. “That’s my best friend. That’s the man that I love. I love him like he’s my brother. You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“That’s right.” Dale replied confidently.

“Well, maybe we ought to just think that through.” Shane replied lowly. Iris stepped toward them slowly, her hand moving to rest on the handle of her knife. That sounded an awful lot like a threat. “Say that I’m the kind of man who’d gun down his own best friend. What do you think I’d do to some guy that I don’t even like when he starts throwing accusations my way? What do you think?”

Dale’s eyes were wide as Shane got close, looking down at him dangerously. Iris stepped forward, behind Dale, so she could remind him there were witnesses. And honestly, she would be much harder to kill. Shane stood there for a few seconds, hopefully contemplating what he just said, before turning away. Dale shuddered as he turned meeting Iris’ gaze.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” She muttered. He nodded, refusing to turn his back on Shane’s retreating silhouette.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

comment or send me a message to be on the taglist! <3

[my-name-is-heartache]

The pill - pt.1

Riddick x reader

@riddickkkk

Based after pitch black Warnings: mentions of rape,abortion, established relationship, argument

"what are these?" You could tell by the look on his face that he already knew.

"read the label and maybe you'll find out," you replied.

"ok," he nodded before dramatically holding up the small box of pills, "anti-preg, life made easy."

You took a deep breath waiting for him to yell or break something.

"which would mean your pregnant only...." here it comes you thought. "Only we haven't fucked yet!"

Looking up at him the expected anger on his face was no where to be found, only hurt and confusion.

"Rid let me explain," you tried to speak but he interrupted you.

"you fucking cheated on me?" His voice wavered slightly and your heart shattered. You couldn't see his eyes but you were sure if you could you would wish you couldn't.

"please just let me-"

"who?"

"what?" You frowned.

"who is he? The father of your fucking child?"

"please, Riddick I would never ch-"

"Who The Fuck Is He!" He hit his fist against the wall of the ship.

A tear slid down your cheek and you knew as soon as the name left your mouth that he would never forgive you.

"Johns" it was so quiet you were surprised he heard.

"ha haha ha HaHa HA HA!" He laughed but there was no joy in his grin. "Now that is fucked up."

He turned away walking down the open ramp and out of sight.

"Riddick" You called after him but you were not graced with a reply.

Of course you never cheated on him. He was your oxygen. Infact he was more than that.

"RIDDICK!" you screamed after him your knees wobbling as tears stung your eyes.

it was hard to tell which hurt more the bruises John's had left on you when you'd been pressed forcefully into the wall or the thought that riddick truly thought you would do that to him.

You didn't run after him, you knew in his blind broken rage he would not listen, might never listen, and what if he still blamed you afterwards.

Tears soaking your face you picked yourself up and brought down a carrier bag from one of the compartments, shakily you started collecting your few items of clothes and the little other things you possessed and placed them in the bag.

You had just zipped the bag up when you heard a noise from outside. A sort of snuffling sound like that if a large dog. The planet you and riddick had landed on was one void of life forms so the sound puzzles you. As it got louder and closer you took out your gun and edged towards the open ship door.

"hello?" You whispered almost afraid of an answer. The sound stopped, the cool night breeze was all you could hear as it dried the wetness still apparent on your cheeks.

you opened your mouth to speak again but fear caught your vocal chords in a submissive hold. All you could manage was a weak rasp as a low growling started up from beneath the ramp you were standing on.

[soupedepates]

Louis belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author

Louis gave me the contact information of a midwife. He said she's nice. That even if she isn't supposed to work today she can see me, I just have to say I come on his behalf.

Zuza Majak. She had a thick Slavic accent on the phone. The Polish diaspora is so tight-knit here oh my god.

Well, my whole family is made of immigrants, and boy did we migrate. When my mother was expecting me, they travelled half the world. It's easier to flee a war when your folks are loaded. Were loaded. And I cut all ties. My parents tried to make us assimilate in Denmark with good Nordic names, just for us to end up in France. Got so white-washed in appearance people have never guessed what my ethnicity is. You only know when I've brought you at least once at my family's place, or if you're part of the gang...

Damn, am I really thinking 'bout that stuff while going to the Polish midwife? For fuck's sake Dom, you're turning into your granny.

I knock at the door. I hear someone's steps. Then the door opens on a skinny yet square-shouldered woman, with stern glasses and grey eyes.

"Domhildr Lulea?"

"The one and only", I smile.

"Come on in."

She lets me in her office. Neat place. Everything is classified. Some posters about prevention, pregnancy, contraception... Welp, classic midwives' stuff.

"I was told by the Planned Parenthood you already got the information appointment with their doctor and Louis sent you to me because we are going to run out of time and they're overwhelmed these days, correct?"

"...Yes? Wait, are you just writing up a prescription and lemme on my way? That easy?"

"You already got the first appointment, miss. There is no counter-indication for drug-induced abortion in your medical file", she assures. "Yet... I am reading that you have had previous abortions. And you're quite young too."

I am ready to hit that bitch if she starts to slutshame me. I swear to the big G.

"I see you are already on the pill, do you suffer from chronic migraine or difficult transit?"

"I... yeah. Due to stress. I take over-the-counter stuff."

She smiles faintly.

"And I suspect you don't take it perfectly. The pill, I mean."

I am fucking mesmerized. I got berated so many times by medical pros about my "irresponsibility". A obgyn called me stupid. Twice. Yet this woman sounds so... gentle?

"It lowers the efficiency of the pill", she explains. "Which is, surprisingly, something a lot of youngsters - and older people - aren't taught. Would you like an IUD? It is not perfect and I'd like you to be screened for a lot of stuff AND get an echography to make sure you don't have any uterine difformity beforehand, but it is safer pregnancy wise."

"I have to answer now or I can think 'bout it?"

"You have all the time in the world. This is just a suggestion. Do you want to see me again in about two-three weeks or do you prefer I redirect you to the Planned Parenthood's doctor?"

"...For what?"

She looks puzzled.

"Well, you know the drill... To check if your pregnancy is very much terminated."

"I never went to those appointments." More like I felt so humiliated I just wanted never to see their faces again.

"Oh." She has, like, a disbelieving laugh. "It is preferable you come, but it's a free country."

"I'd rather have a woman to do that. And I kinda like that office", I admit. I kinda like the fact she does be nice. No. She isn't nice. She is gentle. And non judgemental.

I like that in someone.

"So, in two weeks, on Thursday, is it good for you?"

"Perfect."

"Here's your prescription", she says while handing me the paper. "Those painkillers are really strong, so you won't be in too much pain. You take this medication first. Then, the next day, you take this one. Don't hesitate to take the painkillers. They are lifesavers. And..."

She hands me another sheet.

"You address this to social security, okay? I am prescribing you three days of sick leave. You'll need them."

She lets me speak for a while after that. She doesn't insist for a rape kit after I've stated specifically I REALLY don't want to do it. Which is. Appreciated. Spot on, Mrs Majak. I like that in a woman.

"...How much do I owe you? I'm not sure social security gonna cover this as Louis told me you're not supposed to work today."

"It's fine. I'm not charging you an extra fee. You can find what you owe me on the prescription. Just fill in the paycheck and scan your social security card, okay?"

"...And what about the prescription?"

"Everything is 100% covered by universal health care", she smiles. "An abortion is difficult enough to live to add money-related worries to your burden."

She stands up, signalling the end of the consultation, and walks me to the door of her office.

"See you in two weeks", she says. "You've got this."

I wave her goodbye. And I leave to the pharmacy, with a lighter heart and some hopes for the future.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Noah Berlatsky at Public Notice:

Just three days after President Joe Biden dropped out of the presidential race and endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris, Harris has already secured enough delegates to be the presumptive Democratic nominee. The speed with which the party came together around her is inspiring. Harris has been endorsed by almost everyone who matters in Democratic politics — senators, governors, key organizations, unions. She’s also raised some $100 million and counting from more than 880,000 small donors, more than 60 percent of whom hadn’t contributed before this cycle. If anyone was on the fence about whether Biden stepping aside was the right move, they probably aren’t now.

The past three days have been a remarkable display of Democratic consensus and unity after a bitter intra-party argument over whether Biden should be the nominee. The rush to support Harris also indicates that the party believes she can beat the Republican candidate — giant orange fascist blight Donald Trump. New Harris-Trump polling started trickling out yesterday, and it contained good news for Democrats. A Reuters/Ipsos poll taken entirely after Biden announced his decision to step aside showed Harris up two points nationally (and up four points when RFK Jr. is included). Another poll showed Harris and Trump tied. Given that Harris just had her first rally as the presumptive candidate yesterday, we’ll need more time to figure out exactly how the race has changed. But there are already a number of reasons to be hopeful about her prospects of winning this November.

Unifying looked easy. It’s not.

The first indication of Harris’s strength is … well, pretty much everything that’s happened since Sunday. Harris has been pilloried over the last four years as a middling politician, largely on the grounds that she suspended her 2020 presidential campaign before Iowa. The reliably confused Pamela Paul at the New York Times, for example, argued this week that “Harris is a fundamentally weak candidate” who “fizzled out” in the presidential race. As political scientist Jonathan Bernstein points out, though, Harris’s candidacy didn’t fizzle out. She had solid endorsements and decent polling — but she figured out that Biden was too far ahead to beat in a very crowded field and dropped out early. That allowed her to stay on good terms with party actors and put her in a position to get the vice presidency. That’s not losing. It’s winning.

[...]

Harris and abortion rights

Harris is also well positioned to run on some of the central issues of the election. In particular, she’s a good voice for the party on abortion, which has been an especially energizing issue since the Supreme Court gutted abortion rights in its Dobbs decision in 2022. The Dobbs decision was hugely unpopular and remains so, even in Republican strongholds — anti-abortion measures in deep red states like Ohio and Kentucky have gone down to defeat. Democratic strength in the 2022 and 2023 off-year elections have been attributed by most analysts to the electorate’s support for abortion rights. Democrats are fighting to get abortion referendums on the ballot in November in states like including Arizona, Nebraska, and Florida. Despite Democratic successes under his watch, Biden has always been an imperfect messenger on abortion rights. A devout Catholic, he started his career by arguing that the Roe decision protecting abortion rights “went too far.”

Biden is now solidly pro-choice, and his administration has of course defended abortion rights, most recently winning a Supreme Court case defending abortion pills. But his ambivalence lingers. Even in 2023, after Dobbs, Biden was careful to note his own personal discomfort with abortion procedures, stating in one speech, “I happen to be a practicing Catholic. I’m not big on abortion.” Immediately following the Dobbs ruling, Biden’s administration struggled to come up with a strong rhetorical or policy response. He’s also been weirdly reluctant to even say the word “abortion” in speeches. Harris has no such reticence. She visited a Planned Parenthood clinic in March; she’s believed to be the first president or vice president to ever visit a clinic providing abortion services.

[...]

Harris the prosecutor

On Monday, in her first big speech after Biden’s endorsement, Harris emphasized her experience as a prosecutor and said it put her in a strong position to make the case against Trump. “I was a courtroom prosecutor,” she said. “In those roles I took on perpetrators of all kinds. Predators who abused women. Fraudsters who ripped off consumers. Cheaters who broke the rules for their own gain. So hear me when I say I know Donald Trump's type.” She hit the same theme yesterday during her first campaign rally as the presumptive Democratic nominee. It was so well received by her audience in suburban Milwaukee that the crowd broke out in “KA-MA-LA! KA-MA-LA!” chants.

The contrast here is glaring. A jury found Trump liable for sexually assaulting writer and journalist E. Jean Carroll; he’s been accused of sexual assault and harassment by numerous other women. He was convicted of fraud for misvaluing assets in New York. A jury convicted him of falsifying business records to cover up hush money payments before the 2016 election. He also faces charges involving mishandling of classified documents and illegally attempting to overturn the 2020 election.

Harris got her start in politics, as she says, as a prosecutor. As San Francisco’s DA and California’s AG, she went after fraudsters engaged in Trump-like scams. She obtained a $1.1 billion judgment against for-profit Corinthian College for fraud (Trump, for his part, agreed to a $25 million settlement after his so-called Trump University was sued for deceptive practices). She also won an $18 billion settlement against large banks for foreclosure misconduct. (Trump is promising massive deregulation of Wall Street.) Parts of Harris’s record in California are controversial with progressives. She threatened to prosecute parents of chronically absent children. No one was actually sent to jail, but as a policy, using prisons to threaten struggling parents is not a great precedent. Her record has also been criticized by sex workers and by drug law reformers (she prosecuted 1,900 people for marijuana violations). But Harris’s background as a prosecutor isn’t as much of a problem for her today as it was when she was running for president in 2019 — before covid, the George Floyd murder, and the ensuing spike in crime across the country. She’s also no longer running against Democrats — she’s running against Trump, whose criminal justice policies are nightmarish.

Project 2025, the Heritage Project blueprint for a Trump second term, is rabidly anti-sex worker; it proposes criminalizing porn as a step towards criminalizing trans and LGBT people (whose very existence the right considers pornographic). And Trump wants to deport millions of undocumented immigrants, a massive undertaking that evokes histories of police states and concentration camps.

Noah Berlatsky wrote in Public Notice about how Kamala Harris has united Democrats in her short time as the presumptive nominee.

Harris’s robust defense of abortion rights and her prosecutor record are her biggest assets this election.

[topguncortez]

TW: abortion

I had an abortion when I was in high school. I was young, and dumb, and using drugs. I knew that I could not be a parent, and so I decided to have an abortion. My father was very supportive and drove me to the appointment and took me home after.

I was not given a chance to take the pill and do it at home, but I so wish I would've been able to.

Abortions are not easy, nor will they ever be easy. I was eighteen, in a cold room, lower half exposed, while a doctor who barely said a word to me did this procedure, and walked out like he had better things to do with his day. I also had a nurse, who could've cared less about what I was going through, hardly tell me how to take care of myself afterword, what to look for in case something went wrong, what to do for the pain. The procedure itself was traumatic, and the care I received from my doctors and nurses didn't help.

When I was 21, I had a non-viable pregnancy, and was given a prescription for mifepristone. I was able to go home, be with my partner, and take the pill to end the pregnancy. It was hard, and we cried a lot. We had been trying to get pregnant for about a year. It was just as hard, if not harder than my first abortion, but I was able to be in the comfort of my own home. I felt cared for, I felt safe, I felt comfortable.

The reason I share this is because lawmakers are trying to ban the use of mifepristone, and other pills like it. This only further strips us of our right to chose what we do with our own bodies. Roe v Wade hasn't even been overturned a whole year, and TWENTY FOUR states have some sort of abortion ban.

We are gearing up for another election year, which means WE MUST do something NOW. We can no longer be compliant. We can no longer stand by and let strangers control our bodies.

for those who need resources on where abortion is legal:

abortion laws state by state

planned parenthood

[sixhours]

Chapter 10 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You don’t see or hear from Joel for three days, but the distance proves to be a good thing. You need the space to think and compartmentalization has always served you well.

It helps that your work at the clinic takes up all of those three days. The morning after your date, you get a call on the walkie telling you one of your patients is in labor. It’s a hard birth; a 19-year-old mother with a tiny frame and a larger-than-average baby, and you don’t have a drop of anesthesia to offer, nothing stronger than homemade whiskey and pain pills that barely dull the contractions. The labor drags out over the next two days in a chorus of blood and screams that ring in your ears for hours.

The baby finally makes her entrance, nine-plus pounds and healthy, save for the forceps bruises on her swollen cheeks. Her mother, on the other hand, has a broken tailbone, a mess of stitches, and needs a blood transfusion. You want to give her a stern lecture on the importance of birth control, but what birth control? You can only tell her bluntly that if this happens again, she might not survive.

Just when you think you’ll be able to catch your breath, you get another call. Another labor, this one six weeks premature. The delivery is easy, but the baby is tiny and his chances are grim. The best you can do is put him in a warmer and have the nursing staff watch him around the clock.

Through it all, you’re reminded of how fucking fragile all of it is, how few tools you have at your disposal, how you’re walking a knife’s edge every time someone shows up at the clinic with anything more serious than a paper cut.

It’s infuriating, and you struggle to keep your distance, reminding yourself that Jackson doesn’t need your heartache; it needs medicine that you don't fucking have.

You drag your ass back to your house and peel off your bloodied scrubs as soon as you step inside, leaving them in a pile by the door. You plod upstairs and fill the tub as hot as you can stand it and then some. The water comes up to your chin, and you feel the stress of the last few days begin to seep from your muscles, tendrils unwinding from around your ribs, your shoulders.

You’re dozing in the fast-cooling water when you hear the knock.

You drag yourself out of the tub with a groan, wrapping yourself in a robe and tying up your hair, then padding down the stairs in bare feet to answer the door. Joel stands on the other side, looking as tired as you feel. He raises an eyebrow at your robe.

“Uh, this a bad time?”

“No,” you say. “Come in.”

His eyes fall on the bloody scrubs piled next to the door. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Oh…right. Everyone’s fine. Well, no, everyone’s not fine, but…everyone’s alive. So far,” you mutter. “Want a drink? I need a drink.”

“I don’t–”

“Drink…right,” you sigh. “I swiped some beer from the dance last fall. Help yourself if you change your mind.”

“Bad day?” he follows you, leaning in the doorway and watching as you open the fridge and grab one of the amber glass bottles.

“Days, plural,” you say, wiggling the bottle in his direction. “Are you sure?”

He frowns, then sticks out his hand. “Fine.”

“I am not above peer pressure,” you smile, grabbing a second bottle and pulling the cork before handing it to him. You clink the necks and take the first sip, sour bubbles coating your tongue.

You perch on a chair, crossing your legs and pulling your robe around you, and he takes a seat across the table, looking around uncomfortably.

“Kitchen looks good,” he says after a beat, nodding to the open ceiling, the new floor joist sticking out like a sore thumb, pink insulation peeking from around the studs.

“Thanks, I was going for that ‘construction chic’ look.”

He snorts, takes a drink.

“What are you doing here, Miller?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again, clears his throat, takes another drink, setting the bottle on the table. Normally you’d enjoy watching him squirm, but you’re too tired to wait for his slow Texas drawl.

“Look, if this is about the other night, we don’t have to–”

“I had a good time,” he says flatly.

You blink. “Oh…me, too.”

“I just needed to say, I can’t…uh…I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m…ugh,” he groans, rubbing his face with his hands. You push his beer closer to him on the table. 

“Drink.”

You hold up your beer to demonstrate, then tip it back and take three long swigs. It’s homebrew, stronger than the old-world stuff. You put the bottle down with a barely concealed burp.

“Your turn,” you say.

He gives you a look, but then does the same, picking up the bottle and bringing it to his lips. You watch his Adam's apple bob at his throat as he swallows.

“Now what?” he says, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We wait for the alcohol to kick in,” you say, putting an elbow on the table and leaning into your hand. “And you talk. Or I pass out…whichever comes first.”

He nods, then after a thought, takes another long drink.

Good boy. That’ll help things along.

“I told you I haven’t, uh, done this in a while.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing at his eyes.

“I recall.”

“I had a…partner…Tess. Back in Boston. She didn’t make it out, but we, uh…didn’t have what you’d call a relationship. She…got what she needed from me, and I got what I needed from her. And most of the time…that was enough.”

You lean back, studying him as he talks, watching his fingers slide absently up and down the amber glass.

“And now…I have Ellie,” he says, growing more serious. “She’s my first priority. End of story. I can’t…have anything get in the way of that.”

“I get it.”

“I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” he says, staring at you with those dark brown eyes. “We can’t…I can’t be…with you…like that.”

You plop your chin in your hand, considering this, feeling a wash of relief move through you. Or maybe that’s the beer.

“Look, Miller, I’m not what you’d call girlfriend material. But…I’m down for a good time. Whether that’s looking at meteors or…doing other things.”

He licks his lips, nodding slowly.

“Whatever…this…is,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “It doesn’t need to be serious. You’re not going to hurt my feelings by giving it to me straight. We’re adults, right? So let’s act like it.”

He swallows hard. “Alright then. Not serious.”

“Not serious,” you smile, then down the rest of your beer, watching him do the same. You pick up the empty bottles to bring them to the sink. “Do me a favor and grab us a couple more. One’s not gonna cut it tonight.”

“Sure.”

He goes to the fridge while you rinse the bottles at the sink and leave them upturned to dry. You’ll give them back to the brewer to be reused.

“What’s this?”

You turn around. He’s holding the orange, looking at you with one raised eyebrow, and you have to turn back to the sink so he doesn’t see the heat in your cheeks.

“Oh, that. Don’t let it go to your head, Miller. I just like how it smells.”

You hear him take an experimental sniff and have to bite your lip to contain a grin. You hear the clink of the glass bottles and the fridge door close.

“Where’d you find an orange in this place, anyway?”

“Did some work in the greenhouse a while back. Guy named Miles…guess he used to be a botanist or somethin’, figured out how to grow ‘em. It’s no mango smoothie, but I figured…”

He shrugs, opening one of the bottles and handing it to you. Clink , sip, wait.

The silence draws in on itself, circling you, and you let it. You consider him, feeling a certain lonely hunger curling inside you, the alcohol making your brain feel pleasantly detached and loose. You catch yourself admiring his profile, the slope of his nose, the slight dimple in his cheek, the patch in his scruff where his beard doesn't grow.

He’s watching you, too. When your eyes lock for one second too long, you turn back to the sink with a sigh, pretending to busy yourself with the nonexistent dishes.

There’s movement at your back, the sound of footfall behind you, the clink of the glass bottle as it’s placed on the counter to your left, a sudden warmth at your lower back. You feel his breath on your exposed neck. When his lips brush the skin at your nape, you barely hold back a shudder.

“This okay?”

You laugh a little as if he hadn’t had you up against the wall in this very same kitchen months ago. There had been no asking permission then. “Mmmhmm.”

His hand slides lower, lower still, then cups your ass, warm hand gripping and kneading in a way that sends desire straight to your sex. His hips push against yours, leaning you into the counter, cornering you like he’s worried you might run if given the chance.

“Shit,” he whispers, rough palm connecting with bare skin underneath your robe.

You suck in a hard breath and it’s like you have to remember how. Air in, lungs expand, air out, lungs contract , but all you can feel is one hand gripping your hip, running around to your belly, sliding under your robe and up. God, his hands are so big, so warm . He cradles your ribcage in his palms like a newborn, running them up your sternum, teasing at the base of your throat with rough fingers, loosening the sash at your waist.

He turns you around, leans forward again, pinning your hips and back to the countertop behind you. He’s watching you, reading your face as his hands skim your breasts. Your nipples are already tight, but his rough palm is cupping, rolling, kneading.

“Not serious,” he says slowly.

“Uh uh.”

You find yourself holding back, trying not to make a sound, not to give him the satisfaction. But his eyes narrow, his hips sway deeper into yours, and his thumb makes direct contact with one erect nipple. You moan, and you can feel him twitch between your legs, his mouth dropping open, forehead coming to rest against yours.

His nose brushes yours, his breath at your lips, but both of you seem determined to let the other one make the first move. It’s tantalizing, infinitely frustrating, almost cruel.

“You sure?” he murmurs, and you swallow his exhale in answer. The kiss is soft at first, tender, gentle. Testing.

He leans in, tongue swiping teasingly over your bottom lip, asking permission. You oblige, tasting him, kiss deepening until you’re both panting, his hand pressed into the back of your neck like a tattoo. His tongue slides against yours in a honey-slick caress. 

He lifts you, turning you both until you’re sitting on the kitchen island. You have a momentary flash of his shoulder in a brace and consider reminding him to take it easy, old man , but then he’s kissing you, mouth trailing a hot tongue down the cradle of your throat, your collarbone, and the words are lost to the ether. Your robe has fallen open, exposing you, and he slips his hands inside, pushing it the rest of the way down your shoulders.

You realize he’s never seen you like this and the attention is almost uncomfortable. You can’t hide, you can’t run, you can’t turn around and press your face to the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re pretty.”

You arch into his mouth as his tongue circles one nipple, pulling it between his teeth, grazing the tender flesh before soothing it, over and over. He repeats this process on the other breast until you’re whimpering, caught in a haze of pleasure. Your hands reach for him, sliding under his shirt, pulling at his jeans, but he catches you by the wrist and gives you a gentle shake of his head.

Not yet.

He lays you back, one wide palm stroking the length of your torso, the robe thick and warm between your overheated skin and the cool marble of the countertop. He eyes you hungrily, spread out before him like a fucking buffet. Your throat tightens as his mouth descends upon yours again, suckling at your neck, your chest, your stomach.

“Oh, thank god, Miller,” you breathe, desperately clinging to your last shred of self-control.

“Mmm,” he grunts between open-mouthed kisses, intent on his path. His tongue circles your navel, dipping inside. “What?”

“Was beginning to think you didn’t know what foreplay was.”

He shoots you a dark look over the swell of your breasts, lapping at the sensitive flesh under your belly button, leaving a wet, hungry trail down, down, down.

Challenge accepted.

His tongue dips between your labia and you arch involuntarily, sliding back on the counter. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them apart while pulling you closer, anchoring your center to his mouth. Your fingers thread through his brown salt-and-pepper curls as he circles the pearl of your clit, pressing into it, laving it, circling again and again until you’re trembling, almost begging.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he growls, dipping lower, lapping at you, eating you out like you’re his last meal. Fingers replace his tongue and curl inside you as he returns to your clit, suckling in earnest. One hand leaves his hair to grip the edge of the counter as his fingers thrust deeper, harder, faster.

“Mm-gonna–”

“That’s right, you’re gonna come for me,” he pants. “Come for me.”

You do, clenching hard around him, arching into him, throbbing wantonly against his mouth.

“Good girl,” he purrs, kissing your trembling inner thighs, licking and sucking his way back up your flushed, overstimulated body. You kiss him, taste yourself on him and moan into his mouth, feeling his hardness, still clothed, pressing into your hot center. “So fuckin’ good.”

When you reach for his jeans this time, he doesn't push you away. You sit up, and he waits as you undress him, unusually patient, hands stroking your bare shoulders, your back.

He’s wearing the same shirt as when he thought he was having a heart attack, you realize, the one you had to deface to get to his chest. The buttons have been sewn back on with thread that doesn’t match, and for some reason the thought of him sitting on his couch with a needle in his lips makes your pussy clench.

His torso is puckered with small scars, the one on his abdomen freshest and most pronounced. He takes a sharp breath when you run your fingers over it. You can see the outline of the messy stitches that once held him together. He’s watching your face, cautious, as if he expects you to stop, to come to your senses.

Instead, you run your hands up his chest, down the thick muscle under his biceps, the soft fur of his forearms. You arch up to kiss his throat, feeling the rumble of his sigh under your lips. You taste his skin, salty and smoky and deeply masculine.

When you pull down his jeans, he presses himself into your hand involuntarily, closing his eyes and tipping his head back when you grip him, tracing the outline of his cock through his briefs. You push them down and stroke him, letting your thumb slide over the wetness at the tip, around, back down, watching the effect on his face, the slack of his jaw, the quickening of his breath.

He pushes you back, dragging you to him, positioning himself at your entrance. You groan at the contact as he drags his cock up the seam of your cunt, circling your clit, back down, up and down, until you’re writhing underneath him.

Where before he thrust into you without warning, now he’s painfully slow, teasing you to the edge of sanity. His head pushes inside and you can feel every fucking twitch of his cock at your entrance. You reach for his ass to pull him deeper but he’s using one powerful hand on your chest to hold you back.

“Gotta go slow,” he whispers, voice thick with arousal.

He rocks his hips forward and back, waiting for you to adjust, even though you’re so fucking wet for him it’s hardly an issue. Where was this Joel, you want to ask him, the one who’ll eat you for dinner and fuck you for dessert, but then you can’t because he’s pushing deeper, deeper, deeper, filling you up until the only thing you can focus on is the thick, heavy heat of him inside you.

It’s luscious, your hips rolling, snapping up to meet his until his hands clamp down on them to control your pace.

“Not gonna…last…if you keep doin’ that,” he growls. He pulls you up until you’re flush with his chest, changing the angle, cupping your ass and thrusting more shallowly, breathing hard as his teeth graze your neck. 

Your fingers slide between your joined hips, seeking out that one spot. “Want…” you pant, unable to form the words as your pleasure spills from your body in needy moans and whimpers. “More…”

His fingers follow yours until you’re both cupping your pussy, then gently pushes you out of the way and presses a thick finger to your swollen core, circling your clit with increasing pressure. You clench around him, so thick, so tight, feet pressed to the backs of his thighs to pull him as deep as you can.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groans, but his words are staggered, catching in his throat. “God you’re…so…tight. Need you to…come…for me.”

He kisses you hard, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other working delicious circles around your swollen bud. You moan into his mouth as he leans you back until he’s filling you again, your hips arching off the counter to meet his, and the extra pressure on your clit sends you flying.

“Ah fuck,” he gasps as your walls clamp around him, milking him, and with one more solid thrust, he’s buried to the hilt and pulsing hot and sticky inside you.

“Not…serious,” he pants, nuzzling at your throat, teasing your lips with his.

“Not serious,” you repeat, but the words have lost all meaning in your sex-addled brain, and then he’s sliding you off the counter without letting his mouth leave your skin, and he practically carries you upstairs to bed.

~*~

And this is how it starts, the beginning of your unraveling at the hands of one Joel Miller, the town’s resident asshole and, to your amazement, a really fucking good lay.

He makes up some excuse to be at your place whenever your schedules align, which isn’t often…but you make the most of the time. You’ve learned a new thing about Joel–when he sets his mind to something, he doesn’t fuck around.

Or maybe it’s more accurate to say he does.

He’s almost ruthless in bed, controlling in a way you’ve never experienced in a partner…maybe because no one until this point has been up for the challenge of trying to control you. He edges you to the point of pain, teasing you, playing with your clit and your breasts and sucking on your neck until you’re trembling and begging for release–and when he finally gives it to you, you come hard. You always come hard.

You’re used to being the dominant one, but something about his hissing “good fuckin’ girl” in your ear, while he pulls your hair and takes you from behind, makes you melt, turns you into a whimpering raw nerve. He fucks you until it hurts to move, until you’re chafing and walking slowly from the constant friction between your legs. 

He fingers your asshole and calls you a filthy slut and then kisses you like he could drown in you. He marks you with bruises then soothes them with his tongue, whispering sweet words that fall like candy from his lips.

He pushes you to your knees and spills his seed on your chest, your face, your neck. You’re debased and degraded in a way you’ve never let yourself be before… but then he trails one finger from your temple to your jaw, and his black-brown eyes go slack with something more than lust until you have to look away.

You move through the winter days in a clouded haze of arousal and overstimulation, always too warm, distracted, and thinking about the next fix. You amass a collection of turtlenecks, grateful for the bitter winter wind.

Sometimes you hate the sheer madness of your desire, the gnawing sensation of want, of need . You don’t like the way you lose control when he’s inside you and cursing about how fuckin’ good you feel.

And yet, when he shows up at your door, you never turn him away.

[tomorrowusa]

Florida's radical Republican 6-week ban on abortion takes effect today. BUT it could be overturned if an amendment to the Florida constitution gets 60% of the vote in the November election.

In spring 2022, just months before the US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, Republicans in Florida passed a law banning abortion after 15 weeks of pregnancy, down from the previous legal threshold of 24 weeks. It took effect that summer, but advocates for reproductive rights challenged it in state court as unconstitutional. One year later, Republicans in Florida took even more aggressive action against reproductive freedom: Gov. Ron DeSantis signed a new bill to restrict abortion at six weeks of pregnancy. But the fate of that law rested on what the court would decide about the 15-week ban. If it decided that ban was legal, the six-week ban would be, too. In early April, nearly two years after challengers first filed their lawsuit, the Florida Supreme Court finally issued its ruling: The 15-week ban is constitutional under state law, and therefore the six-week ban would take effect 30 days later, on May 1. In practical terms, six weeks is a total ban. Many people do not even know they’re pregnant by then. Even if they are aware, Florida requires patients seeking abortions to complete two in-person doctor visits with a 24-hour waiting period in between, a challenging logistical burden to meet before 15 weeks and a nearly impossible one before six.

Ron DeSantis got the 6-week ban passed to try to impress the anti-abortion fundamentalist extremists ahead of his ill-fated run for the GOP presidential nomination.

The DeSantis ban goes even further than those in red states with similar bans.

Florida’s law not only bans abortion after six weeks but also bans abortion by telemedicine and requires any medication abortion to be dispensed in person, which effectively outlaws mail orders of the pills. (Researchers have affirmed there is no medical need for abortion pills to be administered in the physical presence of a health care provider.) At the time it was passed, no other statehad a six-week ban with a requirement for two in-person doctor visits and no option for telehealth. While the law includes exceptions for rape and incest, it requires anyone claiming those exceptions to provide a copy of a police report, medical record, or court order — even though victims often do not involve law enforcement. The executive director of the Florida Council Against Sexual Violence has called these exceptions “meaningless” and “harmful.”

While it won't be easy, the amendment overturning the DeSantis ban does have a fair chance.

One glimmer of hope for people in Florida and the entire South is a second ruling the Florida Supreme Court issued in early April: A ballot measure to protect abortion access in the state can move forward. The measure, which would require support from at least 60 percent of Florida voters to pass, would amend Florida’s constitution to protect abortion rights up to the point of fetal viability, or typically between 22 and 24 weeks of a pregnancy. Voters will have the opportunity to weigh in on this question in November. Past polling indicates extreme abortion restrictions are not supported by the Florida public. In one survey conducted by Florida Atlantic University, 67 percent of Floridians said abortion should be legal in all or most cases, while just 12 percent supported a total ban. Another survey from 2023, led by the Public Religion Research Institute, found 64 percent of Americans backed abortion in all or most cases.

If you're in Florida, NOW is the time to start working to pass Amendment 4.

Grassroots neighborhood political organizing fell out of fashion with the rise of social media and took another hit during the pandemic emergency. But you will have more political impact on somebody with an in person friendly conversation than giving somebody a like on Facebook.

Vote YES on Amendment 4 for abortion access in Florida! - Floridians Protecting Freedom

Use the internet to get information out but use yourself to get people to the polls.

Republicans worked 49 years to overturn Roe v. Wade. We can reverse them in a fraction of the time if we start immediately and are persistent.

Nationally, remember that only the Democratic Party is committed to reproductive freedom. As we've seen in Arizona, the GOP would like to turn the clock back to 1864.

Keep Trump and DeSantis out of your bedroom and doctor's office.