#i'm ??? she got over her fear??? my child lol

[maikeymonroe]

Maika Monroe uploaded to their story!

[earthchica]

sweetest things | 2

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: take a chance with Terry and see how things go.

warning: explicit smut (18+), fluff, unprotected sex, slight daddy kink, foreplay, oral (f & m), light choking, light spanking, dirty talking, friends to lovers, pet names { baby, baby girl, angel & more }

note: Sweet and nasty, Terry is everything lol. here's part two! please enjoy!

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It's been at least a week, and you've been avoiding Terry since his confession and the kiss you two shared.

Oh, the kiss.

That's all you could think about: the way he held you close, how soft and sweet his lips were, and how his tongue danced along with yours.

You've never felt this way about anyone else in your life; you thought you did with your late fiancé, but this was different.

Terry was everything you hoped to find again, and honestly, you wanted him to be more than your friend, but you were afraid.

Meanwhile, Terry wasn't upset that you left; he was more concerned, he didn't know what went wrong.

He tried talking to you, but clearly, you needed time to think, so he didn't push.

"However, the more he gave you space, the more he missed having you around.

You felt terrible leaving him hanging like that, but your fears were clouding your judgment.

You had gotten used to being alone, but now that you had found someone like Terry.

You knew you were missing the one thing you had been yearning for: and that's love.

"Why are you over here, huh?" your mom asked, and you straightened up and gazed at her.

"What, you don't like my company anymore?" You inquired, settling onto the couch beside her.

"You know I didn't say that, girl. I'm just saying I don't want you to end up like me...alone" She says sofly.

"You're not alone, Mama. You got me." You softly uttered those words, gently taking hold of her hand, causing a warm smile to bloom on her face.

"I know, sugar, but I don't want you to miss out on love like I did after your father died. I want you to move forward in life and take a chance with that sweet man, Terry, you always talk about," she said, placing her hand under your chin barely.

"I'm just scared, Mama," You said, looking down with an emotional expression.

"I understand, sugar, but it's okay to take a chance and see how things go. Don't you think Scott would've wanted you to move on and be happy?"

You paused, letting her words sink in. It was a moment of decision and she was right.

The burden of loneliness and the remorse of moving on had exhausted you, and you were done with it.

Scott would not want this pain and sadness for you; he would have wanted you to experience love and happiness again.

You looked warmly at your mother, knowing she was always right and gave the best advice.

"You're right, mama," You said lightly.

Your mom affectionately says, "I know I am. Now, go get your man, child."

You couldn't help but giggle, leaning in to gently kiss your mom's cheek before you grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

You pulled up in front of Terry's house, feeling excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, you approach the door, and with a thumping heart, you knock.

The door swings open, and you immediately meet his eyes as his voice softly utters your name.

"Hey, Terry, uh, can we talk?" you asked with a hopeful smile. He nodded and moved out of the way to let you in.

You both walked into the living room and sat on the couch silently until Terry broke the silence.

"Shit...I'll get it if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to tell you how you-" He began rambling, and you tried to get a word in.

"Terry...Terry...Terry" You repeatedly said his name to get his attention, but he kept rambling on.

"Terry...I love you," you blurted out, catching him off guard. He glanced over at you with a genuine surprise on his face.

"What did you say?" He asked with a frown, trying to make sure he heard you correctly.

You moved closer to him on the couch, taking hold of his hand into yours.

"I love you, Terry, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you right then and there last week. I was scared and a little overwhelmed with feelings, but I realized I had nothing to fear." You said, getting a little teary while holding his hand.

"You've shown me who you are, Terry; you're everything I've ever longed for. I thought I could never love again after Scott, but you've proved me wrong. I love being around you and how you make me feel. I want to have another chance at love again, and I want that to be with you." You finished with a kiss on his hand.

Terry smiled, feeling bliss burst through his body after hearing your beautiful confession.

"Damn, baby girl, I'm so fucking happy to hear that. I-I love you," He said, which made you giggle and lean in, crashing your lips against his.

Terry wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

You moaned as he started kissing your neck, and you began lifting his shirt, feeling his abs.

He pulled back before things could escalate further, resting his forehead against yours.

"There's no rush into this; we can take it slow, baby," He whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Do you want me, Terry?" You asked, gently rubbing your forehead against his, feeling his breath on your cheek.

"Fuck...I do. I want you, and I want to show you how you make me feel! I just want to make sure you're ready," He says sincerely, his tone of voice turning you on.

"I am...I want you, Terry. I want you so badly; please show me, and don't hold back!" you purred into his ear.

He kissed you, lifted you from the couch, and carried you to his bedroom.

Terry positioned you on the edge of the bed, tenderly kissing you once more.

You brought him down to the bed with you, swiftly taking his shirt off as his hands reached to start unzipping your dress.

He pulls your dress over your head and starts kissing your neck and grasping your plump breasts in his hands.

You moaned at his touch, holding his arm as he unhooked your peach-colored bra before moving down to your matching panties.

"Mmm, baby, you're already wet for me? You've been waiting for this to happen, huh?" Terry's voice rumbled with a deep, lustful tone, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Does this feel good, baby?" Terry asked, started circling motion through your panties with his fingers, making you moan with pleasure.

"Yes...Terry," you whispered his name softly. He hovered and began leaving kisses down your stomach to your inner thigh.

He was teasing you, and you didn't like that at all. You needed him; you wanted him.

"Terry, please," You begged desperately.

"Please, what, baby girl? You use your words. Tell me what you want?" He said it so dominantly, which you loved in a man in the bedroom.

You sit up slightly, letting out a whimper while looking into his eyes that were filled with lust and love.

"I need you, Daddy. I need to feel your mouth; I need your everything," You begged, eyes wide and filled with an irresistible lust and love.

"That's it, baby, that's what I want to hear," He said in a hushed tone, ripping your panties, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Terry chuckles, removing the rest of your panties before spreading your legs a little wider for him to plunge his tongue between my wet folds.

A moan escaped your lips as your head fell back to the bed, hands finding Terry's head.

The grip of his strong hands on your thighs as he devours your pussy has your head spinning.

His lips capture your clit, and suck it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

"Ahhh....yes, Terry...yes!" you moaned, gripping his arm, your fingers digging into his flesh as steading yourself on the bed.

Terry muffled in your pussy, sending wild rumble through your body; he slid in one finger, then two, crooking them to massage your sweet spot.

"Fuck..you taste so good, baby girl. And doing so well for me," He said, gazing up at you from your pussy, overflowing with praise.

His eyes shimmered with pride and love, and you returned the same look, eagerly wanting, needing more from him.

"Keep fucking lookin at me like that, beautiful girl. and you'll get what you want," He says in his deep voice.

You kept your eyes on him as his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard to make you squirt.

Terry was truly fingering and eating' this kitty kat as if it was the last official meal of his life.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my god, I can't...I can't...I can't take it anymore." You moaned and struggled to break free, but his grip kept you in place.

You feel him pull his fingers out and focus all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

"Shhh... you got this, baby. You've been doing so good for Daddy!" Terry says, going back in.

You cried in pleasure, feeling your body tense; you knew you were close to the edge.

You grasped the crisp sheets of the bed as you felt the rush of exhilaration coursing through your body.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I'm gonna fucking cum" You cried, exploding on his lips with a gust sound.

"Mmm, that's it, baby, you taste so sweet," Terry said with a smirk while your juices were all over his face.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down from your high. Terry wiped his mouth before slowly moving up to hover over you.

Terry began planting soft, lingering kisses up your body until he finally reached your lips, almost stealing your breath away.

You smirked into the kisses at him and flipped him on his back down to the bed.

You unbelt his jeans and, taking them down with his underwear, gasped at the sight of his thickness.

"You're so big...and juicy, Daddy," You said softly, started stroking him a little bit before taking his throbbing dick deep in your throat.

"Fuck!" Terry grunts, holding your hair back with both hands. You start bobbing up and down his shaft heavily, your hand stroking him.

"So fucking good, baby, Taking me in so well, fucking gobble on that dick," He says, gently placing his hand on the back of your head, cradling it with care.

You loved how dirty he was talking to you. It was turning you on more—a sweet, caring man who knew how to talk dirty. *love it*

Terry sits up on an elbow to start fucking your face, making an even pace to thrust into your mouth.

You moaned, enjoying every minute of it simply because his dick tasted so heavenly in your mouth.

You popped him out of the mouth with a gasp of saliva before biting your lip to stroke him between your plump breasts.

"How does this feel Daddy?" you asked, sensing he was about to bust with the expression on his face.

"Fuck, baby. So good, so fuck....I'm about to" He stopped mid-sentence, feeling his cum shoot out of the tip of the dick.

Went all over his stomach, your breasts...a little bit of your face. You smiled happily, cleaning it up with your tongue.

You lay next to him, kissing his neck while observing him slowly calming down from his high.

Terry looks over at you with a grin before he reaches your lips; he gently moves on top, igniting a fiery and passionate kiss that leaves your heart racing.

His dick rubs against your wet folds, not daring to enter but just rubbing and teasing.

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time.

He then wraps your legs around his waist, burying his face into your neck before starts thrusting slowly while kissing your neck.

You placed your hands on his back as he went faster than before.

"Yes...Yes...just like that. It feels so good, Terry," You whispered in his ear.

He moves away a little bit to grip your waist as your hands move to grip his strong, toned arms.

Both of you stared at each other while moaning and groaning at the great pleasure you two were receiving from one another.

You were loving the way every inch of his dick was pounding inside your soaked, wet pussy.

You began rubbing your clit to feel yourself rising again. "Oh, Terry, it feels so good. Don't stop, don't stop."

"I won't ever stop, baby...fuck...that pussy clenching that dick," Terry groaned, pushing you to lay sideways.

He grips your ass cheek, pounding into you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Your breasts bounced with every rhythm of thrust he gave you. He wrapped his hand around your neck while putting a finger in your mouth.

Your body again began to shake as you felt your second orgasm begin to build and rise quickly.

You both kissed entirely in sync, feeling your walls tightening around him, and the next thing you knew.

Both of you came together.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Terry repeatedly cursed, slipping out, resting his dick against your ass cheek while stroking the cum out of the tip.

You and Terry gradually eased back from the intense rush before tenderly assisting each other in tidying up.

His chest rose and fell gently beneath your head as his left arm lazily draped over your waist.

"That was amazing!" you said while gazing at Terry, who responded with a tired, soft smile.

"For sure, baby girl," he whispers with a chuckle, tenderly pressing his lips against your forehead.

After that evening, your routine with Terry remained the same, except you two were now a couple.

And after dating for months and establishing boundaries, everything was going amazingly good.

Eventually, Terry met your mom, and she adored him; they got along so well.

Months passed by swiftly in years, and you both faced ups and downs, but you overcame them, and your relationship strengthened.

Your love has deepened, and you find yourselves falling more deeply in love with him each day.

You remembered the day your mother advised you to take a chance with Terry, and you were so glad you did.

"What's going on, that pretty little head of yours?" Terry inquired, gently drawing you away from your thoughts.

You both just left a charming seaside restaurant after celebrating your third anniversary.

The sound of waves crashing in the distance filled the air, drawing you two for a nice walk on the beach.

"I'm just thinking," You said with a soft chuckle, wrapping your arm tightly around his, holding on closely.

"About?" he asked with a playful grin, gently nudged your arm, eliciting a joyous giggle from you.

"How amazingly you and I worked out. How lucky I am that I got to meet and fall in love with you," you said, stopping you two on the beach.

Terry looks at you with such love and warmth before kissing your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He pulled away, cupping your face with his hand before speaking so sweetly and softly.

"You know, baby girl, I feel the same. I always wondered how lucky I am to meet and fall deeply in love with such an angel. You know you always ensured I felt your unconditional love and sense of security. You embraced every part of me, the good and bad, and never judged me. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, baby," he says, getting down on one knee.

You gasped in disbelief at the scene before you. The love of your life was asking you to marry him.

You had a hunch this moment would arrive, yet you were a little overwhelmed by it.

"Baby, I wanna get married, I wanna have a family, and I wanna see our kids grow up while we grow old together." He shared with a tearful chuckle, and you laughed alongside him.

In a trembling, anxious voice, Terry asked, "So..will you marry me?"

Overwhelmed with emotion.

You replied, "Terry, yes! I love you so much. Yes, I will marry you."

"Really?" he asked happily, and you nodded excitedly; he stood up and gently placed the ring on your finger.

"I love you so much, baby, "Terry said, lifting and spinning you around in pure joy.

You found immense happiness and overcame guilt by following your heart all those years ago.

However, this was only the start of your happier ever after with Terry.

[lady06reaper]

Viking x Sweetheart reader. Who on the outside is a big sweetheart who wouldn't hurt a fly. Said Viking got her from a village.

Only when alone with her husband does she cuss like a sailor and scream when she wants to. Just a overall temper (Viking finds it hot tho-)

She also acts like this around her kids (if she has any) and her kids are absolutely flabbergasted to see how their mom acts outside of home. Often getting secretly slapped upside the head when they say something smart only to realize no one saw it.

- Marshmellow (bit of a crackfic lol)

ya know, this the OPPOSITE of me, I'll cuss anytime, it's only when I'm alone I'm a total "sweetheart"

NSFW lines are slashed, the rest is SFW besides the cussing

HOW THE RAGNARSONS REACT TO YOU HAVING THE MOUTH OF A SAILOR

Bjorn wouldn't know it was coming, you were the sweet and doting wife, helping neighbors and playing with the local children

Your were a delicate flower in his eyes, but he knew you could hold your own when need be

Until you came home and slammed your dagger into the table where he was eating

"That mother fucking no tits asshole of a cunt! Who the hell does she think she is?! Talking about my damn husband in that fucking manner!"

his hand stopped mid path to his opened mouth, his eyebrows rose away from his widened eyes

did he hear that correctly? or was the mead taking effect already?

he stayed like that for a few moments until you snapped at him to say something

"Your mouth, where'd you learn to talk like that?"

little to Bjorns knowledge, you had always had that vocabulary, it just only came out when you were pissed

not to mention you prefer to keep the innocent facade up in public, but that doesn't you can't flip the switch if you get pushed more than what you did that day

More occurrences like this happened, though he was prepared to just let you go and cool off

that doesn't mean he didn't help you let out your frustrations with sex either

Now he knew that this delicate flower of his was poisonous

Ubbe had a feeling that that mouth of yours was dirty, he just never witnessed it

unless you were going down on him

the feeling stayed dormant for the longest time, until he came home to the long house turned upside down

furniture was strewn across from its original places, some were broken too

You were sitting on the throne throwing daggers at a table you had propped up on its side, cussing every time the enlarged knives left your hands

"That *thud* little dicked *thud* no balls *thud* bastard child *thud* of a fucking merchant! *thud*"

he now knew his feeling was right, as they normally were

he was grateful you ran out of daggers when he reached you, or otherwise he feared one would end up in him

he didn't need no explanation, he knew that the merchant you were lewdly referring to must've tried something on you to woo you away from him, it wasn't the first time, but you were so sweet in public that you didn't want to ruin your public look by cussing the man out in public

no words were spoken as he picked you up bridal style and carried you over to the bathtub where you and Ubbe would share a relaxing soak

Ivar knew from the start that you had a mouth, there was no way you were as innocent as you portrayed

there was always two sides to sword, he just hasn't seen your sharper, more deadlier side

until he about took your blade to his throat when he approached you in the woods while you were hacking a tree with your sword

"What's the matter my dove?" Ivar cocked his head to the side.

"That god damn fish fucking tree humping shit eating whore of woman your brother keeps closely by his side! Bitch tried to say my form was wrong during training!"

and there was your sharper edge

Ivar never understood why you kept this side hidden, especially from him

he figured it was a threat to everyone to have your meaner side out in public, and keep your softer side for him only

but Ivar wasn't you, you preferred to keep this side a secret incase you truly needed it

he thought it was hot watching those profanities drip from your mouth

like his cum did last night when you two were fucking

but, I also know that if he encouraged the sailor talk he would also receive it too, which would most likely turn into a battle of who can come up with the worst names

he liked the fiery side of you and wished you would show it more often

the villagers did not as they heard every cuss word that came out of your mouth, including the whore

[m0nsterqzzz]

Happy Wife Happy Life

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

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Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is. 

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you. 

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole. 

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?” 

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food. 

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features. 

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material. 

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing  you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

 -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear. 

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered. 

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

[meanbossart]

what i wanna know is where does the protectiveness of du drow stem from? like, is it just his personality, or was it something triggered within him to protect those around him that he deems in need of protection, whether growing up or in the temple?

did he think orin needed protection? anyone else from the temple?

in my own playthrough with my durge, he felt protective over children or child-like adults (like that one adult who he taught the ways of cannibalism) because he himself never got to have a childhood. so im just wondering if there was a reason for du drow to protect those he thought needed protection.

I'm not sure I would call it "over-protectiveness"! If that's ever the term I used, I hope I properly contextualized it. DU drow doesn't bend over backwards over every nick or scratch on his friend's and partner, nor does he think them incapable in battle... But he has a need to constantly prove that he is - well - needed. He wants to show off how capable and reliable he is so he isn't so easily disposable. DU drow's value lies in his habilities - if he can't provide in resources or physical prowess, he is useless, as he doesn't consider his personality to be a factor in what makes him likeable. This is not a "woe is me" thing for him - it's an extremely pragmatic belief he genuinely holds and accepts, even if it's harmful on the long-run.

Theoretically, if he were to go lone-wolf this would cease to be a problem since he wouldn't have anyone to prove himself to - but I also think that would eventually drive him into a profound depression. Despite all appearances, DU drow is a weird breed of extrovert who needs people he cares about and devotes himself to, otherwise there is absolutely nothing to keep him waking up in the morning. He does not do well entirely by himself at all; that's a situation he was in (more or less, save for Sceleritas' occasional visit) when he was younger, and even if only subconsciously, it may be something he fears ever experiencing again.

So - when he finds people that bring him a little joy, comfort, and peace as Shadowheart and Astarion do, he clamps down on them like a vice; and as he's always been taught, the best way to keep people from leaving is to make sure they need you. This also means he's horrified (hell, in utter denial of the possibility of-) of their deaths and will do whatever he must to keep it from happening unnaturally. I guess he would call that being protective, but it's kind of an excuse.

Pre-tadpole, he did not believe Orin needed protection - he believed she needed him, because he needed her. And I guess that perfectly summarizes how his head works and I didn't have to ramble for that long, LOL.

In regards to the soft-spot he has for mothers and children, that is nowhere near as intense, he's just softer and more understanding of them, and would probably be up to going a little bit out of his way to save a child's life, or provide them with some comfort. This is less of a notable feature and more an example of normality in his otherwise pretty antagonistic behavior, LOL.

Thank you for the question! this was an interesting one to try and parse.

[selineram3421]

*has a little idea* I've gotta listen to brain commands.

First Day

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ implied murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of heart attack, shake of head=no, fake crying lol, italic red=Alastor's thoughts ⚠

Alastor didn't understand why some demons worried over the little children that ran amuck in Hell.

That is until he adopted one himself.

Small, wide eyed, and frail looking. Of course he'd worry after a glance. But after seeing the pile of dead bodies beneath their feet, it seemed like there wasn't too much to worry about.

So all he had to do was teach them how to make others fear them. Especially after the whole kidnapping fiasco with Valentino.

And what better timing than their first day of school.

.

You were playing around in the hotel.

Most of it was following Husk around and scaring the other hotel guests. But then Charlie told Alastor the number of complaints from guests about you and your pranks.

"They are absolutely harmless! What's a little scare going to do?", the deer demon said.

"Someone had a heart attack.", Vaggie piped in.

"Nuh-uh!", you popped up out of nowhere, making the two females jump in surprise. "That frog demon croaked! He's just mad that I made him make a funny sound."

The blonde sighs before holding out a flyer to the red dressed demon.

"Look, I know you're just having fun but not all demons think its funny.", she tells you before looking at Alastor. "There's a school for demon children not too far from the hotel, maybe they can meet demons their age and make friends?"

After dinner you and Alastor sat down on the couch in the hotel room and read through the flyer.

"I don't want to go.", you pouted.

"Don't worry my little terror, we'll think of something.", he booped your nose. "Perhaps we can use this as training!"

"Training?", you repeated.

"Yes! We'll use this as an opportunity!", Alastor said as he stood from the couch, turning to hold out a hand for you to take. "Come little one, there's much I have to teach you."

.

"Remember what I taught you little one!", Alastor says, fixing their coat. "Anything can be a weapon..."

"With enough force and creativity!", they said confidently.

"Correct!", his smile brightened. "Now, let's go show the ladies that you are a proper demon with manners so they feel bad for sending you out. Remember to look sad."

"Hmhmm!", the nod again before taking a deep breath, putting on their sad face and looking down at the floor.

"Perfect.", he approved before leading them by the hand down to the lobby.

Both of the girls were waiting by the entrance doors to say their goodbyes to the little demon.

"We are ready!", Alastor announces.

"Hey! We got them a-", Charlie starts before noticing the little demon's sad face. "..lunch box."

Vaggie squints at them but doesn't say anything.

Though the Radio Demon can see that his little one's sad face is affecting her as well, the moth demon clenching her fists.

"Now, what do we say mon petit?", the deer demon pats their back.

"I'm..", they say but don't look up yet. "I'm sorry for being bad and I'll go to school so..", finally they look up at the girls with little tears starting to well up. "Please don't be mad anymore."

Charlie is obviously affected the most and looks over at her partner, receiving a shake of the head from the white haired demon in response.

The princess takes a breath before handing over the lunch box to the little demon. "Its only for a little bit, alright?"

"Ok..", they say, still keeping up with the act before turning to face him. "Bye Alastor."

"It won't be for long, don't worry.", he 'reassures' them. "I'll pick you up when school is out."

They nod before hugging his side.

He pats them on the head before waving them goodbye as they walk out of the hotel and to the school bus.

Bidding the ladies adieu, Alastor lets his smile widen after turning away from the two, wondering how his little demon will cause chaos.

I can't wait to hear all about it~

*wipes away tears after typing out the fake crying* I was that child huh.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[impactrueno]

Hi! I really love your comics, and art in general! Your Hey Arnold and Simpsons stuff was fire, and I've been loving your Beetlejuice comics (Lydia and Juice's falling out got me tearing up lmao) As far as your Beetleverse comics go - idk if this is something you've mentioned somewhere - I know they're probably meant to be, like, separate canons and stuff, but if they were to take place in the same kinda "timeline", what would the order of events be?

Does CartoonLydia meeting older MovieLydia - a Lydia who's had some really negative experiences with MovieBJ and preaches that ToonLydia SHOULD NOT trust ToonBJ - have any impact on her getting fed up with her BJ and breaking it off with him?

Again, thank you for making these comics - they're dope as hell, and I'm excited for what comes next!

thank you so much!

the beetleverse comics are just a "what if" where we pull each duo out of their respective canons (unceremoniously) and force them to be in their little white void enclosure that i made for them lol

so the events in the story i'm currently doing haven't been influenced by any of that. but if they were to take place in the same timeline, it'd happen some time before the end of the show (maybe even before season 4,) and i think movie lyds telling her to be wary of toon bj would make her doubt herself and her beej for a moment, but then would be proven wrong or realize that movie lydia was wrong about him. and this would not make sense in a real life situation (in fact, it would be concerning) but here's the thing:

something i've found interesting to think about with the beetleverse comics is that each duo operates on different logic. movie lydia is closer to real life logic aka "why the hell are you letting this child hang around so closely with this weird old man" but cartoon bj and lyds work under saturday morning cartoon logic, meaning none of the things movie lydia is fearing would ever happen, because it's a show for kids. so in their little universe, cartoon lydia is perfectly safe with her beej, who as we all know would sooner die all over again than to cause her any harm, so she has nothing to fear. they'll just be best friends forever (with a few bumps along the road of course) and that's it. movie lydia can't even wrap her head around that.

now going back to the current story of them 30 years later; i'm still writing them under cartoon logic for the most part, but with a bit more realistic flavor. so their relationship is still too weird to happen in real life, only now we're seeing the consequences of the friction between them that was already there in the cartoon, and he can't joke his way out of this one or have silly incidental music and sound effects to lessen the blow. movie lydia's warnings wouldn't have had much of an effect on them because this was something that was going to happen either way, and cartoon lydia's problem with bj was never "you're a creepy old man why are you obsessed with me" (real life logic) and more so "you're supposed to be my best friend in the whole world but all i do is babysit you and solve your problems for you while you try to scam some sucker out of their money and i've had it" (cartoon logic)

i hope all that makes sense lol

[ddollfface]

Can I please request a Yandere Hanayama Kaoru head canon?

𝐀 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝙆𝙖𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙢𝙖 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣

Warnings; reader is afab/described a girl, yandere behaviors, stalking, I talk a lot, lots of ramblings, probably doesn't make any sense, bad writing, more stalking, Tumblr is trying to silence me, ngl Hanayama is growing on me... If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Bro, I'm so sorry that this is super rushed, seeing as I hit the word limit??? I'm super confused because I barely wrote anything, but whatever. A lot of my headcanons are based around @yandere-writer-momo. Also, sorry for being offline for so long lol, kinda forgot I had Tumblr ngl :/

Okay, to start this off, I think that realistically, it'd be very, very, very hard to get Hanayama's attention. He's shown to be stoic and stone-faced, only showing respect and warmth toward specific people (Baki and Shiba included). And I think it's important to mention that the people he does respect is due to their fighting spirit and/or strength, that or they were there during his childhood (like Kizaki and his mama).

And that's just for him to show basic affection toward them, not even accounting for being loving. For you to catch his attention, I think that you'd have to be either a really strong fighter (meaning having impressive skills of some sort) or have a strong will, either one will work. (Though, a lot of the time, both go hand-in-hand).

When I say a strong will, I don't mean you get up after being punched over and over, instead, it can just be standing up for others. Similar to Katsumi, I can see Hanayama being attracted to a person who's selfless, in the sense that they're brave. Someone who's willing to push through their fear and do it, whatever it is. Now, that catches his attention.

There's a never-ending list of cowards who'll run with their tails between their legs at the sight of discomfort, willing to abandon everything just for their own gain, and Hanayama encounters these men all the time. Let's just say that it gets boring, annoying even. So when you see someone who's spitfire, ready to jump into danger for themselves or others. Now, that's impressive.

Whether or not they can actually carry through doesn't matter too much, it's the fact that they got back up, not letting their dignity lay to rest. Personally, I find that Hanayama would be far more interested in someone who's genuinely acting selfless in this way, acting from the heart.

Going more into his childhood, I think this type is rooted in Hanayma's relationship with his mother. Though I haven't read the manga, from the wiki, I've gained that he was close to his mother, loving her very much. We don't know much about her. Hell, we don't even know her name, but we do know that she was kind.

That's the only information we're given, but even from that, I can make an analysis. From this, I know that Hanayama was likely a Mama's boy, though still being trained to be a Yakuta. I don't mean Mama's boy in the traditional sense, I mean it in the way that she was his peace, his way out of the Yukuta world, his destiny. Being raised in a gangster lifestyle isn't easy, nor is it soft, so just imagine the damage that type of environment can put on a child's brain?

Horrible, huh? So I like to think that Hanayama's mama, before she passed, was far softer to him, giving him some sense of security. this is possibly why he felt such sorrow after she passed, discarding the natural pain we feel when our mama dies (seeing as there's a primal connection we have with our mama, but that doesn't matter too much at the moment).

Hanayama is a very monotone kind of guy, who, I imagine, doesn't like people with some type of alternate motive. Like, y'know how politicians or businessmen talk? Like they're hiding something from you? Yeah, Hanayama loathes those kinds of people, especially if they're trying to pursue him. I belive that he wants someone who'll keep his life steady; be his calm, if you will.

He wants someone who will be upfront, express themselves clearly, and won't keep what they're thinking from you. To him, this is a breath of fresh air. Hanayama is constantly surrounded by lackeys trying to kiss up to him, speaking with a hidden motive (which isn't really hidden in retrospect). If they're not trying to appease them, then they're quacking in their boots, ready to piss themselves.

But you're not like that, no, not at all. You're different. Hanayama can tell, you aren't some coward, instead, you're someone to respect. He can imagine you sitting next to him, all pretty as a Yakuza's wife. Yeah, he likes the sound of that. Well, the only problem is that you don't know who he is, not yet at least.

I imagine that you wouldn't know who Hanayama is, at first, seeing as he never spoke to you. He likely witnessed you acting selfless in some type of way, expressing your kindness by helping a grandma get across the street, something like that.

You didn't notice him, but he sure noticed you. At first, it wasn't anything too special. Hanayama just found you interesting, wanting to see what you'd do next, so he had one or two of his men keep a tab on you--nothing serious. It continues like that for quite a while, and Hanayama learns more and more about you. He knows that you like to sing when you cook, tapping your feet to the beat, and swaying side-to-side. It's cute, he thinks. And Hanayama feels closer to you, as if you know each other, like you're friends.

But then one of his men reports that you're not at home, not following your usual schedule. Instead, you were at some dingy cafe, drinking crappy coffee with another man, some slumbag who looked like he hadn't showered in a hot second. For some reason, which Hanayama doesn't know, he gets ticked off.

Someone as sweet, kind, and damn pretty as you shouldn't associate with someone like him, someone so gross.

He doesn't do anything, no, no yet. It'd be too brash, and too stupid. And Hanayama isn't stupid. No, Hanayama can keep himself composed, now knowing that he needs to get your attention. Afterall, he can't have you running around with other men, not when he's right here! Well... you don't know that, yet.

Few weeks pass, and you've completely forgotten the trashy date you had gone on, but Hanayama hasn't. You begin to notice new outfits appearing in your closet, clothing you certainly didn't have previously. They're far too expensive, too revealing for you to own.

You'll be confused, especially when these dresses, heels, and coats are no longer just appearing, but instead, being presented. Now, instead of being hung up or nicely folded in your closet, they're being laid out on your bed, accompanied by a pretty, black leather box with silk insides. A little note is stuck on top of the shimmering dress, causing you to gulp, looking around as a shiver racks through your body.

Who the hell is buying you a dress? (though, it looks far more like lingerie, seeing as you'd never be able to wear it out in public). You don't know, but you can't help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you lift the velvet cloth, feeling the lace slip through your fingers. Once you tried it on, listen, you couldn't help but feel curious, you gawked at how it fit you like a glove, hugging your curves, and accentuating your hips and bust.

It's fucking creepy, that's all you can think, but it gets worse, way worse. Throughout the weeks, you notice more and more gifts show up at your doorstep. The dresses get severely revealing, much to your discomfort. So do the notes. They get too detailed and too accurate to your day-to-day. By now, it's clear that you have a stalker, a rich one at that.

I'd have to say that this is the worst part of being with Hanayama: the courting. It's hella weird! You'll never feel alone, always having someone watching you, mostly Hanayama. He doesn't have his lackeys watching you anymore, seeing as he's far too jealous for that. He doesn't want someone as low at them to see you in such an innocent, vulnerable state. No, that's only for him to see.

Don't be surprised when he shows up at your door, your last hookup's head in hand and a bundle of roses in the other. After all, it's time for you to come home, no?

[heavenlymorals]

Do you have any tips for how to write Arthur Morgan’s personality in general? I’m trying to write a fic but I feel like no matter what I do it somehow just makes him feel out of character haha. It’s probably since I’m writing one with a reader/oc character x Arthur. Like I don’t want to remove Mary from the story because she shaped so much of his character’s pain (since in my opinion I assume that Arthur probably got Eliza with child from a one night stand trying to bounce back after Mary had told him that she was engaged to some other man). But I also don’t know how to really write Arthur as he’s completely over Mary and how he is instead with someone he considers the love of his life, cheesy I know but I had too haha. I’m also trying to somewhat do a slow burn and trying to instead have Arthur seemingly brood over his love for the reader rather than how he did with Mary in the game.

I don’t know if this makes sense and feel free to ignore it LOL

Ahah here goes nothing- my consensus on a general understanding of Arthur Morgan-

I think the biggest thing that people should focus on when writing Arthur is his personality differences between men and women. There is a pretty clear divide between how behaves with men compared to how he behaves with women. It can change slightly between how close he is with the people, but it's pretty much the same.

With women, Arthur is very respectful and chivalrous. He even gets mad at other men if they don't behave accordingly. He is more interested in them as well in the sense that he'll listen to their dreams and hobbies and either add to the conversation or encourage them in some way that seems more meaningful, even if it can be at times superficial, just a way to be polite. However, he is no push over. You know that meme that's like "Me and my girl don't argue, she tells me to shut the fuck up and I do"? Yeah, that is NOT Arthur. He can raise his voice, call them out, etc etc. when he feels disrespected in some way or if the person is doing something stupid. We see this with Mary, Sadie, and Abigail. He is also more likely to talk about his emotions with women, but not really BE emotional. Idk if that makes sense, but I don't know how else to say it.

However, Arthur is more inclined to be disrespectful to women who don't fit into his view of life and the status quo of the time (ie. Prostitutes, masculine women, etc.)

Honestly, just think of that when writing him with your oc (I'm going to assume they're a woman 😭). Is Mary a big part of Arthur's character? Yes and no. He can obviously make time for her, but she isn't controlling his every action and thought process. His main focus is the collective of the gang and once the gang is safe, that's when he'll actively start looking for love because that's when he'll have the time and energy for it.

Now with men, Arthur is much more rough. He is very much a suck it up kinda guy with other dudes. There is clearly a hierarchy in the game and he enforces it, especially with the men underneath him. He forces them to work, doesn't take their excuses really, will call them out, will be mean, and will even make threats (ie. Sean). He likes men who are hard workers and are always on the go (Lenny) and is more likely to be jovial, open, and willing to talk. He also will take NO shit from other men and that will either leave the other man read to filth or a black eye. Arthur also does not disclose feelings of fear or inadequacy to other men, but he will show more active emotions like joy or anger.

Honestly, whenever I feel like writing Arthur, I just think of the average older American outdoorsman and it helps me out pretty well. Chivalrous and respectful with expectations and a no bullshit attitude.

Hope this helps and happy writing 🫶🏼

[appleblueberry-pie]

How would Yan Miggy feel when his S/O has successfully escaped from him and is moved to another country, she also has a child who is five years old and looks like a carbon copy of him.

So one day the kid decided to write Miguel a letter with their address on it and in the letter the kid talks about how reader never mentions him or talks about him, and also wondering if he's the Child's real father. And so the kid invites him to his/her’s birthday. (plus also having an attached photo of the house that they are living in, in the letter).

Reader is now shocked and immediately pulling her child away from him, and angrily asks Miguel how he got their address.

I love your work💕

THANK YOU <3 also i like this ask lol

Miguel sat in his car, anxiety and happiness causing his stomach to tie in knots. The picture applied to the handwritten note and the house he parked in front of were identical. He saw a children's park and a school on the way here, not too far away. It's also the city you've always wanted to move to to raise a family. This has to be the place.

Dear Daddy,

I miss you alot. Mommy tells me that you were mean to her alot so she left to be happy. I am glad she is happy but i miss being with you. My birthday is on xxxxxxxx and i would be very very happy if you came to selebrate with us!! This is what my house looks like. And i can tell you where we live. PLease coem. i miss you.

Every time Miguel read over the note, the more he felt connected to his little girl, and it pained him it had to come to this. So, he'll make sure that his return in her life is more of a meaningful one. Not one full of lies, excuses and useless arguments that led to nothing but more problems. A year is a long time and Miguel is a changed man. He can make this right.

When he shows up at your door, he takes note of all of the beautiful and small garden growing in the front yard, wondering if the two of you worked on that together.

Your car looks pretty nice as well. Did you buy that on your own? Or did someone else help you? It's pretty difficult to find a house, let alone afford living, in a place as nice as this. Maybe that's why you took money out of his account so often. If you wanted to move, you should've just told him so. Well, it's too late for that now.

As soon as he knocks on the door, it flies open, and there's his little girl he hasn't seen in forever. She gives him that big smile he's always loved and remembered, screaming his name. "Daddy!!" He picks her up and holds her close in his arms.

"Oh! My little ball of sunshine! My favorite girl, it's been too long since I've last seen you, how have you been? How's my birthday girl??"

She laughs when he tickles her lightly and puts her on the ground. "I'm really good now that you're here! Wait, let me tell Mommy-"

She takes his hand to bring him inside, but you appeared out of nowhere, breaking the hand-holding and roughly shoving him by the chest out of the front door entrance. You hold your little girl behind you, your face almost unrecognizable from a mix of fear and anger on display.

"What the hell are you doing here?? How did you find us?" Miguel's face drops at your tone and holds out his arms in the most non-threatening way possible. Yet, his voice showed his true colors. So nervous and....almost scared.

"Hi, Y/n," A crooked smile shows on his face, "Mi amor, it's very nice to see you-"

"I'm gonna call the cops if you don't leave." You scramble to try and pick up your daughter, who fights against it. You aren't in the mind to understand that as you continue to try and back away from who once was your captor.

"No, wait, it's not like that. It's D/n birthday today and......I just wanted to come see my baby." He takes a step inside your abode. Slowly, as if trying to not make things worse. "Please."

You thought you did everything right. You didn't leave any traces. You gained his trust in leaving you to the house all for yourself, which took years and years to do. And when things finally clear and you finally found a normal life to live again, he comes to your doorstep. Was he stalking you this entire time?? Why was he being so nice? So open? You definitely couldn't trust whatever he had up his sleeve, and your daughter....

"I told him where we live!!" She tugged on your arm as hard as she could to get your attention. Your head snaps down to her direction. When she saw your face, she hesitated for a moment but kept talking. "I just wanted to see daddy again.......I-....all of my friends at school have their dads, and i really missed mine. If i wasn't ever gonna see him again, then i just wanted to see him one last time."

[I can't color code anymore😭]

You were in disbelief. As mad as you wanted to be at your daughter for doing something so life changing and unbelievable, you couldn't for the life of you put any of those feelings onto her. She deserved the world. And in all honesty, you took most of it from her. Miguel was a great father despite his many flaws, and all you wanted for her was to experience that perfect family.

And you couldn't give it to her. The rest of the puzzle she needed was right here. You didn't know if you were ready to give Miguel a chance again. But did you really have a choice?

Miguel frowned and dropped his hands.

You promise yourself to deal with it for now. The quicker he celebrates, the faster you find a way to get him out again. You bend down to whisper to your daughter. "Go tell daddy where your bedroom is so I can finish with the decorations, okay?"

Her face begins to beam and, without a second thought, nods her head and rushes off to keep Miguel busy. Miguel doesn't have a chance to see your face, as you already got back into the kitchen to deal with the food, and he lets his lips turn upwards at the corner.

[sebscore]

Hello I hope you are well. Can you write reader who has night terrors with Charles Leclerc? Thank you very much

KICK UP A STORM | CHARLES L.

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader 

warnings: thunderstorm. crying. 

author's note: sooo, i just realised it said 'reader’ and not 'sister!reader' lol so i hope you still like it and you're not mad that I made a little leclerc fic. I also totally misunderstood the night terrors and you probs meant nightmares, but oh well 😚

masterlist 

• • • • • • •

''Y/N?'' 

The sudden appearance of Charles made her flinch, almost dropping her glass of water in the process. ''What the fuck.'' She tried not to yell, it was late at night and she didn't want to wake up her family. 

''What are you doing? It's like-'' he glanced at the time of his phone, ''super late.'' Finding his sister on the couch at 4AM was not a sight he was expecting. 

She shrugged her shoulders, placing her glass back on the coffee table in front of her. ''I just can't sleep.'' Y/N answered him, staring at her bare feet. 

''Why?'' 

The young girl shrugged her shoulders, too embarrassed to explain her reason for being awake at this hour. ''Don't know,'' she whispered, ''I'm sorry if I woke you up.'' Y/N apologised, her wavering voice a little louder now. 

''Non, non,'' Charles brushed her apology off, ''my throat is dry, I just wanted some water.'' He grew concerned at her answer. The driver couldn't take a good look at her face due to the darkness of the living room, but he had a small suspicion she had been crying. ''You okay?'' 

''Yes, I'm fine-'' 

Right as she was about to lie and assure her brother she was alright, a flash of lighting lit up the large room. The crashing thunder boomed through the city of Monte-Carlo, and by default through the Leclerc household. 

''Hey- it's okay!'' Charles didn't hesitate and ran to his sister's side, sitting next to her and pulling her closer to him. The tears in her eyes glistened with each struck of lightning that was produced. Y/N hid her head in his neck, staining his shirt with her wet cheeks. 

''You're okay, I'm here. I got you, ch��rie.'' The man kept a strong hold on her, using his body as a form of shield. ''You're fine! We're inside, nothing can happen.'' He tried comforting her with his words, her obvious distress breaking his heart. 

Her fear of lightning and thunderstorms had been a primary one ever since she was a young child. She and her family had never been able to pinpoint the exact moment her phobia started or what situation had been the catalyst, but it was there and it hadn't gone away with the years that had passed. 

It had begun with rain tapping on her window, which quickly turned into the sky rudely interrupting her sleep and scaring her with a large strike of thunder. As the storm went on, her room felt like it was becoming smaller and smaller by the minute. Y/N moved to the larger living room on shaky limbs and tried to be as quiet as possible so she wouldn't wake anyone up. 

Charles felt like an idiot as he continued comforting his baby sister, guilt filling his mind over not realising sooner why she couldn't sleep. ''Don't worry, it's okay now.'' He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. ''You know you can always wake me up, right?'' 

The young girl moved her head from his neck and rested it on her older brother's shoulder. ''I know, but you've been working so much. I just wanted to let you sleep.'' She sniffled, explaining herself. 

''Oh, bébé~'' He cooed, touched by her consideration of his sleep schedule. 

''If this happens again, just wake me up. I don't want you to be scared on your own like this. If it's you, I don't mind.'' Charles clarified, wanting her to know she could pull him from his sleep in situations like this. 

Y/N nodded, a tired smile on her face. ''Okay, Cha.'' She promised him, her fingers fiddling with his hand. 

An unexpected chuckle from her has Charles turning his head towards her. ''What?'' 

The youngest Leclerc shakes her head. ''No, it's just… you said you won't mind if I wake you up from your sleep.''

''Yeah?'' 

''So who would you mind waking you up?'' 

Her question has him laughing now as well, glad her cheeky personality had gotten back to the surface. ''Well, I think we both know the answer.'' 

''Yeah,'' she mumbled, ''I know.'' 

''Arthur.'' 

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[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair 9/?

Yes, it's true. You aren't dreaming. I am finally updating this long-neglected fic! Not only that, but I will be finishing it. As a matter of fact, you will have an update every day this week. If anyone still cares, that is, lol. I know the fandom isn't what it once was. However, I suddenly got inspired again to finish this. So whether or not anyone reads it, it's getting the resolution it deserves. Why did I neglect it for so long? Writer's block. I just haven't written hardly a thing in at least a year, probably longer. So when I laid awake, unable to sleep because I was finishing this fic in my head, I was ecstatic. That's why I'm finishing it whether anyone reads it or not. Of course, if you are still reading it, may I politely suggest commenting? It definitely feeds the muse!

Rest assured, there will be an update tomorrow. I don't have much going on tomorrow, and I actually planned more in this chapter originally. So be looking out for that!

Much thanks to the two biggest fans of this fic, Krystal @kmomof4 and Marta @snowbellewells - re-reading your reblogs of this fic helped kick me back into high gear!

And as an extra treat, here is a picture of Emma's wedding dress in this chapter:

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 1k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressay

Liam and Ingrid, unsurprisingly, had concerns when they came home to Emma and Killian announcing their engagement. Anna, unsurprisingly, was bouncing up and down with joy. 

“Are you sure you’re proposing for the right reasons?” Was their main question for Killian.

“Well, the main reason is I love her,” he told them with conviction, “but it’s also the timing. She needs me. I know deep in my bones I was always meant to be her husband, so if she needs me now, why wait?”

“Are you sure you aren’t just accepting out of fear? Because it’s safe?” Was their main question for Emma.

Emma’s answer was delivered with just as much conviction. “It isn’t just that I feel safe with Killian; I love him. Shouldn’t love feel safe, anyway? And I feel the same way he does. If we waited five more years, or ten, or twenty, nothing would change. We’re meant to be together.”

Liam and Ingrid couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Both of them had noticed a soulmate type of connection between Emma and Killian for a long time. They also couldn’t deny the logic of the decision when it came to Emma’s security and the baby’s. There was only one other concern.

“What about school?”

“I can finish high school married just as well as I can single,” Emma told them with a shrug, and Killian vowed he wouldn’t get in the way of her education. 

“But Boston College, Killian?”

He squared his shoulders and looked his brother dead in the eyes. “I won’t be returning. I’ve already told my boss he can count on me full time with the construction company. He’s promoting me to a foreman position, so I can easily support Emma. When the baby’s a little older, I can enroll at Red Oak and get my degree there.” 

Liam wanted to argue, but there really wasn’t anything wrong with Killian’s plan. Lots of people worked a year or two, or longer, before getting a degree. He wanted to say that Boston College was a lot more prestigious than Red Oak, but he knew full well it was a pretty weak argument. Killian would save a lot of money by transferring to Red Oak, not to mention gaining job experience. He let out a long breath and shared a meaningful look with his wife. 

“Well okay, then,” she said, her signature grin filling her face, “let’s plan a wedding!”

*******************************************************

A date was set for mid-August, giving Emma two weeks between the wedding and the first day of her senior year. Unfortunately, Elsa wouldn’t be back from her study abroad program in time for the ceremony. It also gave them only three weeks to throw a wedding together. Thankfully, neither Emma nor Killian were big on grand ceremonies. 

The first item on Ingrid’s checklist was the venue. The bride and groom solved that easily: their own living room. Anna and Ingrid - and Elsa via Zoom - tried to protest that it was too small, but Emma just shrugged them off. 

“We can just pull out all the furniture and line up folding chairs. It’s not like we’re inviting that many people.”

Ingrid was concerned that the second item, the dress, would be impossible. Fate, however, seemed to be in their favor. Emma found a vintage dress that suited her personality perfectly at a thrift store downtown. She hadn’t even been dress shopping that day. Ingrid had taken her for ice cream after one of her prenatal appointments, and they had decided to stroll around the square with their ice cream cones. They were simply walking along the sidewalk, licking scoops of chocolate ice cream, and suddenly, there it was, displayed in a window. 

Emma wasn’t even sure it was meant to be a wedding dress, but it didn’t really matter. It was a cream colored, empire-wasted, sleeveless dress with one tier on the bottom of the long skirt. The fabric had a delicate floral pattern in light gold that shimmered when Emma moved. The top was a halter, which flattered Emma’s fuller bust due to her pregnancy. The empire waist also masked her growing baby bump and provided plenty of room in case she gained more in the next few weeks. When she tried it on, Ingrid started to cry. 

An employee stopped to admire Emma. ��We just got that in yesterday,” she told her. “A woman told us it was her mother’s prom dress in 1976.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as she locked eyes with Ingrid. Her foster mother pressed her hands to her mouth and let out a happy squeak. 

“It’s fate, Emma,” she told her, and the two embraced. 

They left the store with the dress lovingly wrapped in its original box, having paid a whopping thirty-five dollars and seventy-five cents. 

 Every single item on Ingrid’s list was checked off with simple solutions by the bride and groom:

Killian’s tux? Well, if Emma was wearing a 70s prom dress from a thrift shop, Killian would find a thrift store suit, too.

The food? A potluck lunch would do just fine. 

The cake? The ones at the grocery store would do. As George Banks said in Father of the Bride, a cake is just flour, eggs, and sugar, right? Or something. 

The only thing Killian was concerned about was a place to live. Sure, he knew his brother and Ingrid would never kick them out, and there was at least a modicum of privacy in his attic suite. Still, it would be a little awkward, for one. More than that, however, was Killian’s pride. If he was really providing for Emma and the baby, he should be able to put a roof over their heads. 

His pride wouldn’t even allow him to go to his own brother with his concerns. Yet, Liam somehow knew anyway. Which was why he greeted Killian at the door one evening, a week and a half before the wedding, with a huge grin on his face and a slip of paper in his hand with an address on it. 

After hearing what Liam had to say, Killian raced eagerly up the stairs to Emma’s room with the good news. He came to a sudden stop in Emma’s open doorway, the smile falling from his face. She was sitting atop her bed, hugging a pillow, hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. Her mother’s journal rested atop the quilt beside her. 

“Hey,” Killian said softly as he entered the room, “what’s wrong?”

Emma slid over to make space for him on the bed, still trying to wipe the traces of tears from her cheeks. Killian picked up her mother’s journal as he made himself comfortable against the throw pillows along the headboard. Emma lifted his arm, put it around her shoulders, and tucked herself against him. 

“Is it the curse?”

She shook her head. “It’s my mom,” she told him softly.

He waited, rubbing her arm gently, and pressing his lips to the top of her head. Emma let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

“I wish I knew where she was. I’m getting married, and she doesn’t even know.”

Killian nodded but said nothing. Emma lifted her head just enough to look up at him. 

“Is it crazy that I wish she could be there?”

“Of course not. She’s your mother.”

“My insane, homeless, unpredictable mother who threw glass bottles at my head.”

Killian chuckled lightly. “True,” he tapped the green, cloth-covered notebook resting on the bedspread, “but I think reading her journal has given you a glimpse of the woman she was before. I think it’s made you realize, maybe for the first time, what you’ve lost.”

“That makes sense. I think I’m also worried that we haven’t heard from her in so long.”

Killian didn’t know what to say to ease her worries, so he cupped her face in his hand, tipped her chin up, and covered her lips with his. The kiss started gentle, intended simply to comfort, but then she responded so fervently and eagerly, that he lost himself. He shifted so she was beneath him, which caused a mewling sound to pass her lips that drove him wild. Emma slid her hand beneath his t-shirt, sending shivers up his spine as her fingers caressed his lower back. His hand grasped her waist, and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. At the simple contact, Emma arched into him, and he began to trail kisses along her jawline. With one hand still on his back, her other hand threaded through his hair. She gasped when his lips trailed to the sensitive skin behind her ear, and something about the sound snapped him out of his haze of desire.

Killian pulled away abruptly and sat up, putting some distance between them. Emma still lay there on the bed, her face flushed, her hair splayed out on the pillows beneath her, a look of confusion marring her brow. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said thickly, fixing his own mussed hair with shaking hands. 

“What for?” Emma asked indignantly, sitting up beside him. “We’re engaged.”

He turned to her and took her face gently in both hands. “I know. I love you, Emma, and I plan to cherish you. You deserve that. After everything you’ve been through, I’m not going to take you like this, hurried and frantic, thinking in the back of our minds that someone could interrupt us at any moment.”

Emma glanced sheepishly at the still open door and giggled. “Then close the door next time.”

He laughed with her and pulled her to him, holding her gently. He ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. 

“I want to make love to you. Slowly. Thoroughly.”

Emma shivered in his arms. “Are you trying to torture me on purpose?”

He laughed again. “I feel a bit tortured, myself, truth be told. But we only have a week and a half. Then we’ll have the time and the privacy we deserve.”

“Time maybe. But privacy?”

Killian pulled the forgotten slip of paper from his pocket. “Yes, privacy.”

Emma snatched it from his hand, looking at it curiously as she settled in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. “An address?”

“Our address,” he told her, grinning broadly.

“For real?” Emma’s eyes widened.

“For real.”

Emma squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed as she peppered kisses all over his face. 

“How?” she finally asked. 

“There’s a professor of archaeology taking a sabbatical to do a dig in Greece. He told Liam he was looking for someone to take care of his house while he’s gone. So it’s ours. For free.”

“For free?”

Killian shrugged. “Well, there are also some maintenance things on the house I’m agreeing to do for him free of charge, but basically.”

Emma gazed in shock and happiness at the paper in her hands. “It’s too good to be true.”

“It’s fate.”

Emma’s eyes shone with happy tears as she looked back up at him. “It really is.”

Killian was ready to throw caution to the wind and press Emma back down into the pillows when Ingrid appeared in the doorway. He was worried what she would say, seeing him on Emma’s bed, but Ingrid seemed too ecstatic to notice. 

“We’ve found her!” she told them. 

“Who?” Emma asked. 

“Your mom!”

[forever-rogue]

My partner often joke about how we wouldn’t want each other to find anyone else if one of us were to die, so I’ve been thinking…. Joel x fem!reader where reader had lost her long term partner months before meeting Joel. She develops feelings for him but can’t bring herself to move on. “He would want you to move on.” “No, he wouldn’t.” I’ll leave it up to you if they do end up together or not cuz I just can’t decide lol

AN | Please, this is so soft and everything 🥺 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; mention of death (cancer) and grief

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Just before he could kiss you, you pulled away. You pulled away so fast, you almost tripped over your own feet and stumbled backwards.

"What's-"

"Don't," you held up your hand, shaking your head, "please."

"Baby," the way he whispered was so tender that it almost made you cry. He took a hesitant step closer, "what's wrong?"

"I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This," you repeated, pointing between your bodies as his entire face fell, "us. I can't do this, Joel. I can't be with you."

"I thought…" he exhaled heavily, hands on his hips as he tried to gather his thoughts. This was not what he had expected, "I thought we both wanted this. I thought-"

"You were wrong," oh. That hurt to say. The look on his face made you want to take it all back. You could see the tears listening in his eyes, "and so was I. I-I'm sorry."

"Can we just talk about it?"

"I've gotta go," before he could do or say anything else, you almost ran away from him, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. This was the worst.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"What's wrong with you?" Ellie could tell something was wrong even before Joel got the chance to sigh as he walked into the house. She set her book down and looked at him with a concerned expression, "what happened?"

"I don't even know," he sat down next to the young girl with a huff as she raised an eyebrow. He said your name softly and she leaned in closer, "she just left. Said she couldn't do this. Whatever this is."

"What did you do?" She asked, trying to keep herself from sounding too judgmental either way.

"All I did was try to kiss her," there's a sheepish blush that creeps into his neck and cheeks, "I didn't think it was out of place. It seemed…"

"Yeah," she scooted closer to him and gently patted his arm, "I think she's just scared."

"I haven't done-"

"Not of you," she quickly shut down that path of worry and fear, shaking her head fervently, "its just…has she told you about her partner? From a long time ago."

"No," Joel's face marred with worry. You'd only vaguely mentioned a partner in the past as he'd been getting to know you, but now he was curious and worried, "she hasn't really talked about that much."

"They were together for a while," Ellie explained, "a lot of years…she said…I think this needs to come from her but she said at one point they had a child. She only mentioned it once-"

"Fuck."

"Fuck," she agreed, "her partner died a few months before she moved here."

"Oh," he ran a hand over his tired face and sighed heavily. He'd had no clue - he still felt like a jerk. He wished he hadn't tried to kiss…not because he didn't want to, he really did, but he hated the idea that he hurt you even more. Even if it was accidental, "oh."

"I thought she told you," Ellie hated seeing him upset and knowing that you were upset, "but I'm sure she will…maybe she just needs a little bit of space."

"Yeah," he agreed with a grimace. He wanted to go over to yours now and work it all out. But he also didn't want to chase you away. You were worth, worth waiting for, "I'll give her time."

"It'll be okay," Joel wished he had as much confidence as Ellie did. He desperately hoped she was right, "I promise."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You felt so stupid for how you just ran away from Joel. The sensible thing would have been to talk to him and explain everything that was going through your mind. But when he leaned in to kiss you, every coherent thought had gone out the window. 

And the thing was that you really liked him. You found yourself falling for him harder and faster than you'd ever dreamed of or imagined. And it was scary. You hadn't felt that way about anyone in a long time…since him. 

It still hurt to think about; it still felt just as fresh and deep as the day it happened. And now you felt like you were betraying him by falling for someone else.

It was odd to even think about. You didn't even have to think about it at all, it happened so organically and everything with him felt so natural. 

Joel was unlike anyone you'd ever met before, in the best of ways. He was kind, caring, smart, funny, and a multitude of other things that became evident after you'd gotten to know him. 

And you knew, deep down, that you owed him an explanation. Even if it hurt and was hard to do, you had to tell him. He deserved it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed since the incident had occurred. It took an entire three days to work up the courage to seek out Joel and talk to him. When you found him working in the small shop you approached quietly, trying not to startle him. He must have felt your presence because he turned around and looked at you with a surprised expression on his face.

"Hey there," you whispered softly, holding up your hand in a meek little wave.

"Hey," the expression on his face was nothing short of relief. His shoulders relaxed and he instantly looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders.

"Listen, I–...can we talk?" He nodded and he motioned for you to follow him to the back where there was more privacy. It was a chilly winter afternoon, and snow had started falling softly. You held out your hand and caught a few flakes in your palm, watching them dissolve quickly.

"Listen, I want to a-"

"Don't," you touched his arm and shook your head, stopping him before he could fully believe that he was at fault for anything, "don't apologize, Joel. You don't owe me an apology - I owe you an apology."

"You don't have to…" he insisted sincerely, putting a finger under your chin and turning your face up to his, "you don't have to do anything. I just want to know that you're okay."

"I am…I think," you found it hard to look into his soft gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat, "there's something I have to tell you. I think it might help explain what happened. But maybe you already know - I have no clue what people spread around."

"Ellie," he answered as you relaxed. You adored the young girl and if anything, you were glad he heard it from her, "told me the shorthand version of what happened. But if you're ready, I'd rather hear it from you."

"Thank you," you blinked back the tears that were already welling up. He wasn't just judging, he just wanted to listen. To support you, "its kind of funny in a way. In a weird, sad kind of way but Ellie…she's almost the same age as my son would have been."

"Oh," he almost choked on the singular word. He knew that story all too well, "sweetheart…"

"My son, he…his name was Benjamin but we called him Benny. I had him when I was really young," you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. The cold air felt like it was burning your lungs, "he was born into this cruel world that took him from me way too soon. He was just a kid…he was my baby, you know? He was seven. Seven. How is that even fair?"

Joel tried to keep his composure as he wiped away your tears. He'd told you about Sarah; you listened and held him then. Loved him so much it made your heart ache. He'd had no clue that you'd gone through the same thing.

"My baby," you sniffled softly, leaning into his touch, "but at least then I had my boyfriend - my son's father. We'd been together for a long time already, since we were just kids really. I loved him so much. More than anything in this world besides our son. Everything fell apart but we always had each other. We promised each other that we'd always be there for one another."

"Can I…can I hug you?” he wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and make it all go away, and make everything better. You looked at him with big, wide doe eyes and nodded, melting into his touch, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you whispered as you buried your face into his chest. You never felt safer than when you were with him, “thank you. Joel, I…”

So many words were swirling around in your head and you wanted to get them all out. You had to.

“You don’t have to say anything more,” he kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly, “only what you want to.”

“I want to tell you everything,” you whispered, “Joel, I thought I’d be with him forever. I thought we’d grow old together and experience the rest of your lives together. But then he…he got sick, really sick. They couldn’t…do anything for him. They said it was cancer and that it was too far gone to do anything that could be helpful. They didn’t have everything they needed either. It was a fast onset, but I really wonder how long he’d felt like something was off but didn’t do anything. How long was he suffering without telling me? He was gone so quickly; it felt like I didn’t even get a chance to process everything and then he was just gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he felt his own heart break for you. He hated that you ever had to go through a single bad thing, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I lost my son and my life partner,” you pulled back and wiped at your eyes, “the two people I thought I’d have forever. And it still hurts so much.”

“All that grief,” he whispered, “is just all of that love you have inside of you. It’ll never go away, but it will get better. I still think about Sarah everyday too…and Tess. I miss them both more than anything, but I’ll always have them in my heart. Nothing will ever change.”

“You understand more than anyone,” you inhaled shakily, “you know how hard it is.”

“I do,” he agreed softly, “but it’s okay to move forward - we can’t live in the past forever. It took me a damn long time to realize that too, but it’s true.”

“I want to,” you looked at him nervously, “but I don’t know if I can. The hardest part of all is that…I can’t help falling in love with you. But I can’t be with you.”

And there it was, out in the open. All those things that he had been feeling had just been validated; he just knew that the other shoe was going to drop. He tried to control his expression as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying. 

“I can’t….I can’t do that to him,” your hands balled into fists at your side as you tore your gaze away, “I can’t just…be with someone else. It’s not fair - it’s not…fair.”

“Sweetheart,” the pet name crashed over you and that only made you cry harder. Joel Miller was such a good man that it made your heart yearn and ache for him, “it’s okay to be with someone else. And I’m not just saying that about me - for anyone you could ever be interested in. You’re not moving on, you’re not forgetting him but you’re moving forward with life. That’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“It is,” he insisted gently, “you’ll never forget him or your son or love them any less. But it’s okay to be happy and to love others. If it was the other way around, would you want him to be able to be happy and move forward?”

“Yes, of course,” you insisted with a fervent nod, “I’d always want him to be happy, even if that was with someone else in his life.”

“Don’t you think he’d want the same for you?” he asked, causing your mouth to open and close in surprise, “wouldn’t he want you to be loved, to love, and be happy?”

“It’s different-”

“It’s not,” but his response was not unkind. It was patient and loving, “you deserve all the love and happiness that you wish for others to have. I know it might be hard to accept that, fuck, it was for me too. But I…I allowed myself to fall in love with you too, and to love Ellie as if she was my own. That never once changed anything I felt for Tess or Sarah. I love them as much as ever. But I…I love you too.”

“Joel,” you were silently pleading with him, wishing you just had all the answers then and there. But it wasn’t that simple. Things almost never were, “I…can’t. I’m sorry, I just…not right now.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he touched your cheek, brushing his knuckles gently over your soft skin, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here, if and when you ever need me.”

All you could do was nod before turning on your heel and scampering away once again. This time you were left with so many more questions than answers. You had a lot to think about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late when the knocking came at his door. Joel grumbled as he got up from the couch where he’d inadvertently fallen asleep to answer the door. Since it was so late, he figured it might have been something important. 

Much to his surprise, when he opened the door, there you were. You looked up at him with nervous eyes and a sweet little smile.

“Hey,” he relaxed as he leaned against the door. It had been over a week since he’d last seen you. And honestly? He’d felt like he was dying on the inside, “what’s going on, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been thinking,” you confessed as though it was some sort of secret, “a lot. About a lot of different things. But also everything that you said. And I realized…”

He remained silent as he gave you an opportunity to compose your thoughts. He was busy trying not to scare you away again.

“I realized that you were right,” it was so quiet that Joel wasn’t sure he’d actually heard you, “you were right. I can’t go through the rest of my life being sad and stuck in the past. I have to move on, but I never have to forget.”

“Yeah?” he tried not to get too ahead of himself. For the most part, he was happy that you felt that way; he wanted you to be happy, truly happy, even if that wasn’t necessarily with him, “I’m glad you were able to work it out. You deserve it - happiness and love, all of it.”

“I know that now,” you shuffled your feet nervously, taking a moment to muster up your courage, “and I want to…Joel. I want to…I’m in love with you.”

Butterflies exploded in his stomach as his breath caught in his throat. You were serious - only this time you weren’t running away. Instead you were looking at him with determined eyes and a nervous smile. 

“Funny,” he tried to ease his and your nerves, “I’m in love with you too.”

“May I…will you…?” you couldn’t even get the words out, way too anxious and nervous to finish your sentence. But Joel, lovely and wonderful Joel, knew exactly what you were asking. He nodded tenderly, taking your face in his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

You stiffened for a moment before leaning into his and kissing him back. It felt so different than what you were used to, but also so right and lovely and amazing. When he pulled back, the two of you were grinning at each other shyly, so many unspoken things flowing between you. 

“Everything in time,” he promised gently as you leaned in kissed him again, “I’ve got you, okay? Always, I mean it.”

“I’ve got you too, Joel,” and he knew you did. He knew you were speaking from the heart, “always.”

[cultivating-wildflowers]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i'm very sorry if these questions seem accusatory or rude-- i'm genuinely trying to understand the other side, because i don't feel like i can actually justify abortion if i don't know how the "other" side would approach ethical questions. i put "other" in quotation marks because while we have two very much opposing sets of ideas on how abortion should be approached, above all we care for the welfare of people and want the best for everyone.

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

thank you!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it is never ok.

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

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

Choice42

Carrying To Term

New Wave Feminists

The Human Defense Initiative

Birthright International

Abortion73

Rehumanize International

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

[impactedfates]

JDBJDBDKN i’m new and in the nicest way possible, your fix’s are so TASTY I WANT TO EAT THEM SO BAD.

Not the same anon who requested the Jing Yuan’s child fics but I really loved them sm, could I get a continuation of that AU on more of reader’s divination abilities and antics and come with it? 💕💕

A/N: YOU'RE TOO KIND STOP INFOAF, I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY FICS :D MORE DIVINER READER COMING RIGHT UP >:)

Genre/Trope: Platonic + Mainly just more HCs on reader and their antics in the divination commission with Fu Xuan (Auntie Fu Xuan anyone?)

Format: Head Cannons + Mini Scenarios

Warnings: None

Extra: More Fu Xuan in this then Jing Yuan as we're talking about readers job lol // Not fully proofread, just rambles of this AU // Reader is a teen in this // Original Jing Yuans child fic here

I feel like how you wanting to be a diviner was when Fu Xuan had to babysit you once when Jing Yuan was busy. During this time she decided to take you to work and show you the magic future things. This sparked you, you came home and told Jing Yuan you wanted to be like Auntie Fu Xuan. He was happy you took an interest but uh *ahem* (Fu Xuan won that day)

On the rare days you do decide to be nice and not trick whoever your doing a divination for, I feel if you don't laugh or do a dramatic wince and you're serious about it. They STILL think you're pretending, thinking something really bad is going to happen.

To be honest, no matter what you do they'll think you're pretending until you're older I feel. If you wince genuinely or not they'll think you're joking as well.

[Name]: Bro your house is gonna get robbed… Random: Yeah right, what's actually going to happen? [Name]: I'M SERIOUS, YOU'RE GONNA BE HOMELESS :fearful: Random: So I'm tripping on a pebble tomorrow?

You usually have lunch with Fu Xuan, she'll probably take you somewhere peaceful where she'll eat lunch by your side...however, if word got to her that you messed with people again during the job? Expect a big lecture during your lunch break.

Qingque loves you, like. She loves your antics so much. She loves hearing them and if she manages to convince you to slack off with her, better pray Fu Xuan doesn't catch the both of you.

As much as Fu Xuan does lecture you, she cares a l o t for you. If anyone tells her you're in trouble with enemies, best believe the person who's the cause of it will be seeing a VERY angry Fu Xuan.

The two of you gossip ONLY if the both of you agree whoever youse just did a divination for was an ass. And Fu Xuan can be s a s s y.

When you were younger you tried to make some food with the things you found in your kitchen and gave it to both Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan for their lunch at work. Sadly...as a child you weren't exactly a world class chef...but they both still ate it to keep you happy.

Fu Xuan most definitely favours you over the other diviners she works with. It's so clear to the others with how she lectures others more harsher then she does you. Also your punishment for misbehaviour or slacking is always so little. But can they blame her? You're her nibling! (GN! term of nephew/niece I think)

You horribly drew her once as a gift when you were like 6 and it's been on her fridge ever since.

I did add a Jing Yuan header first, but after writing this I realised this is more of a reader and Fu Xuan centered thing so changed it lol. Fu Xuan needs more content I feel, she's so interesting!! My next requests are all fics/mini scenarios so I'll get on those as soon as I can >:D

Also! Recently made an art blog for my ocs and other things, feel free to give it a follow if you want :>>

Art Blog: @argentimybeloved

[centuryberry]

Hey, Berry.

I realized I forgot to ask you in my last question, regarding the idea of Yue being left on FFM as a newborn, how does Macaque react upon seeing her? While he ends up taking her in, was he hesitant at first? Does his initial feelings change once he gets to know her better? I can easily imagine him slowly but steadily growing to love her as he watches over her, especially if she clings to him while she sleeps. Or when she's old enough to stay awake and alert, she enjoys staring up him, touching his face and ears and he lets her, maybe start a tickle fight/kiss bath to get her to laugh.

Also, just for laughs and giggles, given how dramatic he is over Yue, how incapacitated would Wukong be if baby Yue has a cute, big ol' baby sneeze? Or when Yue is old enough to start talking, what would his reaction be if she says 'Baba'? Or would she call Macaque that first?

I had this funny thought that when she was old enough to say a variety of easy words, Yue's favorite word to repeat was 'stop' no matter what's going on, which tickles Red Son to no end.

Macaque's first emotion when seeing her was a mix of disbelief and wonder. There's also an instant feeling of kinship since they shared the same six-eared trait. While he definitely has some reservations and fears about being a single father (and there's no hesitation about that part - he's this baby's guardian and parent now), Macaque knows that he has a strong support system within FFM and countless monkey mothers to guide him.

He feels responsibility towards baby Yue at first. As someone who grew up with six ears, Macaque felt like he owed it to this child and his younger self to protect and prepare her for the world. The softer feelings came in after he got the hang of childrearing. Yue's complete and utter trust in him humbles him and her curious exploration of his face and ears once she opens her eyes has him completely enthralled.

As for Wukong, he's internally exploding from all the cuteness that baby Yue displays by simply breathing. If she sneezes, he's deceased. Yue would say "Ma" as her first word, but once she calls Wukong "Ba" for the first time? He's over the moon. He's overjoyed. There's a party thrown just for that. He immediately tries to get her to say it again.

(Lol, Yue's favorite word being "stop" in your headcanon. It's a funny thought considering the connotations. Personally, I think her favorite word would be "why?" She's a curious little tot, so I'm sure she's bound to babble out a constant stream of questions once she can string together full sentences.)