#space lover vasectomy

[batatapako]

You can smush your face into any character's boobs ONCE WHO?

THIS IS SUCH A HARD QUESTION YOU DONT UNDERSTAksk. ksk

[batataaurdoodh]

A,E,L,P Bunal <3

oh boy i get to yap to a void HEHEHE /j

A- Ships that you currently like a lot

ohhhughhhhh canon wise... atsutaku... bokutaku... rokayuzu.... eats....

OC, im always a sucker for polyoka <33

E- Have you added anything cracky / hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

These in the discord server

L- Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn't one of your faves

Shoutout to Musha. Thank you for carrying my dumbass all the way through the starting era of mine before you got replaced by my one and only. Ily.

P- Invent a Random AU

I literally just want an AU where the library is instead a shelter and the librarian has to take care of like 85 cats instead. It's silly maybe.

Does that even count.

[batatapako]

are we ab to kiss rn..... haha jk... unless....

[usagis-tsukinos]

Guys My Age - 1

Read, Comment, or Kudo on Ao3!

Chapter 2

Pairing: Lucifer x F!Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Warnings: None

Words: 1,130

Lucifer is a 45-year-old divorcee who moves next door to a woman 20 years his junior while trying to rebuild his life and keep his sanity.

“Lilith, I don’t care if you’re a little short on the alimony money.” Lucifer said, shutting the door as he held his phone trapped between his shoulder as he got out of his truck, parking it as Ramsey jumped to the window on the passenger’s side and looked around the new neighborhood. He placed her on speaker, setting the phone on the side of the bed of his truck as he began reaching for boxes. 

“I just need–”

“Don’t really care what you need, Lilith.” He spoke over her, beginning to move boxes to the porch of his house, the phone far away so he didn't hear her excuses. She’s the one who cheated, seeing as they were married for 15 years and he even got a vasectomy for her. Well, technically it was for the both of them. They didn’t want children only to find out after the fact that she was magically pregnant. For a while, he didn’t think anything of her working late or just needing some space, all couples went through it and he assumed, hoped, whatever you wanna call it that she’d come back around. They’d stopped having sex, which really cemented his suspcions when she was suddenly with child.

Lilith swore up and down that it was his, but the timeline didn’t match up and he’d been snipped long enough to know it wasn’t possible. Eventually, during the court proceedings, work camera footage caught her and her lover in the act, granting Lucifer his divorce and the alimony money that she’s to send him once a month. He wasn’t even forced to take a paternity test since he brought his medical records of the vasectomy as proof and when she was first expecting to show the child couldn’t possibly be his and the judge ruled in his favor.

He was also granted to keep his house, but he chose to sell it and move to Anytown, USA to start a new life with the only woman who cared about him during their marriage: Ramsey. Lilith didn’t even want Ramsey, but Lucifer did and so he was the only one who took care of her. Lilith tried to argue he beat the poor dog but again, no proof was ever established, just her being angry she’s not the victim. Lilith wanted a pet in terms of someone to boss around and have at her beck and call, but it was no use. They’d been together too long for Lucifer to fall for her games.

They’d met in college, Lilith having been then married to her high school sweetheart, some poor guy who didn’t know what hit him. She’d spent all his money but by the time he found out it was too late, Lilith telling Lucifer that he’d hit her constantly and bankrupt them. They were granted a divorce on grounds of irreconcilable differences and not long after, her and Lucifer were married. To say the marriage was at first a happy one would be a lie. He spoiled her constantly and did love her, but felt he had no say in the matter of, well… anything. The way they decorated the house, the cars they’d drive, even their own wedding was handpicked and he had no say despite wanting a voice of opinion in every one of these instances.

Eventually, as time went on, they became strangers in their own home, barely acknowledging the other person despite Lucifer’s efforts to wine and dine her, bringing the romance back. It didn’t work and it was clear she’d grown bored with him by the time he realized she was cheating on him. Lucifer packed up and moved out, leaving her to marry her affair and maybe finally be happy, but he doubted it. Lilith was still talking by the time he’d finished bringing everything in, ignoring her calls of his name as he moved all the boxes into his empty kitchen. Finally hanging up without a word, he shut his phone off and began to unpack.

When he started, it was around 10:30 A.M, not finishing most of it until about 9:30 P.M, sitting at his kitchen table as he looked over the slew of boxes that needed to go out that would just go in the morning before he started his new job. He opened a beer, looking around his empty new home and thinking about just how nice the silence is, no one to judge him for his taste, or yell at him for not getting to the dishes in time when they weren’t even his. Lucifer looked over to Ramsey, asleep on their couch before gently waking her so they could go upstairs and sleep in their new bed. 

When he awoke the next morning, he made a cup of coffee, let Ramsey out and went to sit on the porch. He didn’t need to be at work for about another two hours, watching as his neighbors started their days. Lucifer watched the house about three doors down, almost diagonal from his position in the cul-de-sac as a young woman made her way out to her car to grab something. He thought she was pretty from what he could see, unable to see her age as she turned around and saw him looking. Lucifer felt like a creep, suddenly embarrassed as her age became apparent but at least it confirmed she was an adult and he wasn’t staring at some teenager. 

He figured she was coming over to yell at him for staring at her but really, he wasn’t gawking. He was just curious as she walked over in her morning robe and PJs, looking him over. “Good morning.” She said, watching him as he tried not to squirm in his seat. 

“Morning.”

“Are you new?” She pointed to his truck.

“Moved in yesterday.” Lucifer took a sip of his coffee, any reason to break eye contact.

“Oh, that’s nice!” She immediately cheered up, standing straight from her almost looming position from his steps despite being below him. She gave him her name, “I just live a few down, but if you need anything just say so, okay?”

“I’ll make sure to stop by for a cup of sugar when I’m low.” Lucifer joked and he marvelled at her smile at his stupid dad joke as she laughed.

“I have to go to work, but have a good day!” With that she left, leaving him to sit on his porch alone before Ramsey decided to sit at his feet as though to protect him as she walked away. 

“Well,” he said, looking down at his best friend, “We’ve already met one neighbor so I guess we’re in good hands, girl.” He scratched behind her ear as she huffed softly.

[rosemakh]

The Bad Game

[Blurb: An innocent game of mini-golf takes a sinister turn when a family friend demands that Naomi make good on her bet. This deep betrayal leads to an impossible choice.]

[Author’s note: I wrote this in 2020. It’s loosely based on true events, as recounted by a friend of mine. This story is a tragic family drama. It deals with emotional abuse, manipulation, substance abuse, and other things that might trigger some readers (like most of my stories!)]

The driving lesson was over, so Naomi parked the old van and turned off the ignition.

"That was good, sweetie," Pastor Rob congratulated her from the passenger's seat, "You'll be able to get your license soon, for sure!"

Naomi shook her head and smiled sheepishly, "Maybe in a month."

They climbed out of the vehicle to stretch their legs and switch seats. Naomi hopped in and fastened her seat belt while Rob slid the driver's seat back. She giggled at some birds squabbling in the grass as he lowered his weighty girth into the van.

"How about some mini-golf?" He said, rather suddenly.

Naomi liked the game but she was tired. She'd been driving all morning and still had a pile of chores to do at home. She was also tired of being under the pastor's leering gaze. Spending the rest of the day with him -- followed by a Sunday of volunteering at his tiny church -- wasn't her idea of fun but he'd been kind enough to give her driving lessons when nobody else would. She was grateful to him, so she agreed to go.

On the way to the mini-golf park, Rob said, "How about a bet, this time?"

They'd played before but never with a wager. It seemed a little strange to Naomi, so she asked, "Like what?"

Rob kept his eyes on the road, "We'll play one round. If you win, I'll do any one thing you want and if I win, you'll do any one thing I want."

Coming from any other man, this kind of proposal would have alarmed her. But this man was like a grandfather to her. They'd known each other for years. He helped her family. He was goofy, humble, and generous. She trusted him.

She looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, okay! You'll probably just force me to go to lunch with you again or somethin', right?"

They both laughed.

They drove the rest of the way in silence with Elvis Presley crooning on the radio.

***

Naomi was usually pretty good at mini-golf but that day, she missed every shot. She almost felt as if an unseen force was affecting her game. Rob, on the other hand, was on a roll, banking his bright blue golf ball around plastic gnomes as if by magic and landing holes-in-one at both the lighthouse and crocodile lake. In dozens of games, she'd never seen him play so well and she'd never played so poorly.

As the game progressed, it became clear that she would lose the bet. A faint foreboding bloomed within her. She pushed it down and continued playing but by the end of the game, she'd lost by a huge margin. While they turned in their rented putters and balls, then made their way back to the van, Rob's face grew progressively pinched and dark.

Naomi sat in the front passenger's seat and fastened her seat belt. The edge seemed unusually sharp, digging into her neck as if trying to cut her. The earlier sense of foreboding bloomed again.

Rob yanked his door open, squeezed behind the wheel, mopped his sweaty forehead with one of his tree-trunk arms, and backed out of the parking space. A few feet ahead, a small gaggle of giggling women were crossing the lane. Rob, mouth gaping and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets, moved his head to openly gawk at them in their tiny shorts and tank tops. Naomi was used to him doing that but, for some reason, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the car door. She watched his lecherous behavior out of the corner of her eye. He didn't detach his eyes from the ladies' bodies until they'd all piled into their car.

***

Rob pulled out onto the highway and stopped at a red traffic light. He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead for a moment. A dangerous mood emanated from him.

Without looking at her, he grunted, "If I was the Mafia, you'd be in a lot of trouble right now."

Over the years, she'd seen him behave erratically. Sometimes his sermons would devolve into tales of bloody warfare, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. She knew the man had demons to fight but now it seemed he was about to use one on her. To prevent upsetting him, she didn't speak, but merely pressed herself hard against the door and looked away as the van accelerated.

He took a deep breath as if preparing to make an important announcement.

"Naomi," he said, "God showed me something last night. I was riding my bicycle like I do every night, and I looked up and saw you in the moon."

He sounded awestruck as if he'd witnessed a miracle.

"You were floating in the big full moon, wearing the most beautiful silver dress and slippers. Your hair was blowing all around you. You looked like an angel, just for me. I watched you and you smiled so sweetly, with so much love. And you reached your hands out to me and your dress blew and you were so beautiful. You stayed with me like that until I got back home."

Naomi couldn't think of anything to say. She continued looking out the window and prayed to God for safety.

When Rob parked in his driveway, Naomi had to will herself to move. She peeled herself from the door and opened it carefully. She wanted to run next door and call the police but slowly followed him into the big house, instead.

"Is your wife home?" She managed to ask as he swung the front door open.

"She's at Dorothy's piano recital at the college. They'll be gone for hours."

He led her through the cozy living room, past wholesome family pictures and walls filled with Christian crosses. Finely-crafted angel figurines looked on from shelves and tabletops as they passed. A desk in the corner housed a huge Bible, its pages edged with gold.

Rob positioned one dining chair so that it faced toward the backyard garden, then motioned for her to enter the tiny dining room and sit. She could see his wife's award-winning roses through the sliding glass door. Their yard was carpeted with soft, well-manicured grass. A set of cute lawn furniture sat on one side of the deck, overlooking a small swimming pool.

The dining chair didn't have arms, so Naomi awkwardly placed her hands in her lap. Rob suddenly stood in front of her, looming over her and blocking out the sun like a massive obelisk. To avoid his eyes, she stared at her hands.

His voice sounded above her, "I know you're a woman of God, so you'll honor your vow."

Barely a few inches in front of her, he knelt and pulled a ring box from his pants pocket. She stared at the box, praying it wasn't what she suspected. But it was. With bloated, hairy fingers, he flipped the top open to reveal a simple wedding ring. The gold-colored ring was etched with a diamond pattern to make it look like a normal ring but Naomi understood. Feeling as if she was in imminent danger, Naomi clenched her knees together tightly and thanked God she'd decided to wear jeans instead of a skirt.

He fixed his veiny bug eyes on her, "My sweetie, I've wanted to marry you since we first met when you were 14. These four years have been the happiest of my life. I know you feel the same way. God has shown me that you do."

Naomi tried rationalizing with him, "But you're already married. How will that work?"

He leaned toward her and his big belly pressed against her shins. He looked into her face like a lying boy that desperately wanted to be believed, "I've told you about that. It's basically an arranged marriage. I was 35 and our families put us together. We never loved each other."

"But it's a sin to violate your marriage vows. Besides, I don't feel that way about you, Pastor."

"But I know you do, sweetie," he nodded his head repeatedly, "God told me."

She shook her head furiously, "No!"

"It's okay, sweetie. Don't be afraid."

His fat belly pressed harder against her shins. The fleshy sensation made her feel sick, "You're old enough to be my father. Your daughter's older than me! It wouldn't work, I'm tellin' you!"

He continued, searching for ways to convince her, "And--and I know you don't want children so I got a vasectomy so you don't have to worry about that."

"Oh, God!" Naomi couldn't hold herself together anymore. Terrified, all she could do was tuck her head into her shoulder and sob.

"Sweetie--" He briefly touched her hand.

As if she'd been burned, Naomi drew her hands up to her chest.

He craned his blubbery neck to look into her face, "What's the matter, sweetie? Everything's okay. Haven't I proved that I care about you?"

He put one massive hand on her knee. Instinctively, she gasped and clenched her knees together tighter. She looked at the ceiling, gulping back sobs and biting her lip.

He placed the other hand on her lap, still holding the ring box, "Haven't I helped your family for the past four years. With your mom not working, what would you guys have done without me?"

She managed to choke out, "I appreciate everything you've done for us--" between sobs but couldn't continue.

"Oh, sweetie," His voice was tender as if speaking to a lover, "Don't cry. I know it's a big change," He waited a few moments for her to calm down but she was far too upset, "You're overwhelmed, my love. I'm sorry. I'll take you home now. Let's talk about this tomorrow after church."

Relieved to have a way out of the situation, she nodded shakily, "Tomorrow."

***

She'd managed to pull herself together and look somewhat normal by the time he pulled into her family's driveway. She scrambled out as soon as the van stopped.

Before she closed the door, he said, "I'll pick you up for church tomorrow, sweetie," and blew her a kiss.

She shut the door and willed her shaky legs to carry her up the cracked concrete walkway and into her family's shabby home.

She stepped into the living room in its usual state: Toys and dirty clothes littered the floor; Bowls of half-eaten cereal sat in small collections upon the tables; A sticky spill had congealed under the coffee table, next to the overturned cup that once held it.

She called to her young sisters, "Nancy, Nellie! Come clean up after yourselves, please!"

Nancy, 12, and Nellie, 5, stalked out of their room with mock annoyance. They glared at Naomi, stuck out their tongues, then collapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Cut it out, silly girls," Naomi said as she walked to the kitchen.

Their mother staggered out of the master bedroom and down the hall. She walked past Naomi without a word, opened the cabinet above the sink, and retrieved a large bottle of sleeping pills.

"Hi, Mom," Naomi said gently.

Her mother merely glanced at her, then opened the bottle. She moved almost robotically as if the effort of moving required all of her concentration and energy. She dropped three pills into her hand and swallowed them with a cold cup of coffee that was sitting on the counter.

"Are you okay, mom?" Naomi asked.

Naomi's mother turned to face her, "Never," and looked her up and down, "Look at you. You're so lucky. You don't have three mouths to feed."

Naomi stayed stone-faced and silent. Her mother said this often. The first time it happened, Naomi had made the mistake of talking back. She refused to make that mistake again.

With a surprising amount of force, her mother threw the open pill bottle against the sink's backsplash. Cloud-blue pills erupted from the bottle and fell haphazardly into the dirty dishes in the sink. A few landed in water and fizzed, creating bubbling islands of blue foam.

"I'm goin' to bed," her mother grunted.

Nellie, the youngest, peeked her head around the kitchen wall and held her toy bunny to her chin, "But Momma, you were in bed all day."

Their mother bent down and stroked Nellie's chubby face with a tenderness Naomi had not received from her in years, "Momma's tired, baby. Mommies get tired."

She stood up and snapped at Naomi, "Clean this place up!" then disappeared down the hall.

After their mother closed her door, Nancy strutted in and put a small pile of dirty cereal bowls on the kitchen table, "Where have you been all day, by the way? We've been stuck here with Mom and you've been out havin' fun!"

Naomi placed the bowls in the sink, "Believe me, nobody in this family is havin' fun."

Nancy took hold of her younger sister's hand, "Come on, Nellie, let's watch a movie while we wait for Naomi's crappy dinner."

"I like her crappy dinners," Nellie replied as they climbed onto the sofa.

"Oh, shut up, Nellie."

Overhearing the exchange from the kitchen, Naomi chuckled.

While preparing dinner, Naomi prayed for guidance. The thought of seeing Rob again made her feel sick, so she leaned over the sink for a few moments until the nausea subsided. Her mind raced with possibilities and none of them were good. If they stopped attending his church, she'd have to get a job. But she was just about to enter her last year of high school. If she quit school to work full-time, they'd probably never get out of poverty. On the other hand, if she stayed in high school and worked part-time, her sisters wouldn't have anyone to take care of them. Their mother was in no state to look after anybody and the girls were too young to take care of themselves all the time. She watched the pasta boiling on the stove. It roiled and raged like the thoughts in her head.

By the time dinner was ready, she had decided to turn him down and leave his church. She had no plan beyond that but she continued to pray and search for a solution.

***

Rob pulled into the driveway bright and early on Sunday morning. It was the sisters' responsibility to set up the church room in Rob's rundown beachside inn, so they had to get there before everyone else.

"Howdy-ho, kidderoos!" Rob greeted the girls as they headed towards the van.

Naomi checked to make sure the top button of her high-collar dress was done up and raised her hem slightly to keep it from dragging through the dew-covered grass. She picked up Nellie and strapped her into the front passenger's seat, then climbed into the farthest row of seats in the back.

Rob was watching in the rearview mirror, "You can sit up here with me, Naomi!"

"Nuh-uh! She said I can, Mr. Rob!" Nellie protested.

Beaming, Nancy spread her drawing books and art supplies across the middle row of seats and said proudly, "Oh, Yeah! So roomy! This must be what it's like not havin' any sisters! We should sit this way all the time."

"Well, that settles that," Naomi said as she pulled the van's sliding door shut.

He drove through the neighborhood slowly, glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds, "Are you sure you don't want to sit up front, Naomi? Sitting next to the driver is great driving practice."

Naomi didn't take her eyes off her book, "No thank you. I promised Nellie she could sit there."

"What if you drive, instead, and I sit next to you?"

Nancy piped up, "No way. I don't wanna die today!"

All four of them burst into laughter.

Rob dropped the subject but repeatedly flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror during the 30-minute trip. Eventually, Naomi placed her backpack in her lap in an attempt to hide her chest from his searing glances.

***

The ramshackle inn was a place of refuge where vagabonds and penny-pinching tourists could enjoy a room on the beach for next-to-nothing. Rob did all the repairs himself but, unlike Jesus, he wasn't much of a carpenter. The floors were lumpy, sagging, and did nothing to muffle the sounds of footsteps. The paint was flaking in various places both inside and outside the building, and the bare, wooden staircases wobbled and creaked. It was a humble place for humble people.

Naomi and her sisters ascended the stairs into the common room and got to work converting the tiny space into a functioning chapel.

***

That Sunday's service was no different from any other. Pastor Rob led with a spirited, yet incoherent, opening message, which seemed to be nothing more than a collection of random Bible quotes from a desktop calendar. After the opening, he jumped straight into an equally spirited sermon about men and women and all the sex passages in the Bible. Although he didn't look at her, Naomi knew who he'd written that sermon for.

He spoke with fire and the attendees responded in kind, yelling "Preach!" and "Amen, brother!" at random intervals.

Two young women came out of an adjoining room and sat together on one side of the small space. They were dressed in tiny jean shorts and string bikini tops. Pastor Rob seemed unable to keep himself from glancing at them every two seconds to ogle their exposed flesh.

After the service, the pastor mingled with the attendees. None of the smiling people shaking Rob's hand were aware of Saturday's events and no one -- maybe not even the man himself -- knew what he was going to do when he got Naomi alone again. The spongy floor shook with each of Rob's massive steps as he traveled through the cheerful crowd. Naomi felt the vibrations in her core, like a war drum signaling impending doom.

***

Just after Noon, he pulled the van up to the girls' house. Nancy and Nellie got out and said their goodbyes.

Naomi made her way to the front passenger seat.

"We're off to do more driving lessons!" Rob explained to the younger girls.

He waited until the sisters were safely inside the house, then drove to a nearby playground. He pulled into an unpaved parking space facing the park, where some families were enjoying the mild weather and fresh air. Naomi was grateful to have other people around.

The pastor turned off the van and gripped the steering wheel so hard his pudgy knuckles turned white. They both stared silently into the park for a while.

Suddenly, without looking at her, he asked, "Are you playing with me?" and continued staring ahead, awaiting her answer.

Naomi gathered her courage and calmly replied, "No."

She looked at him. A sick red color was creeping up his neck. She had to get this over quickly, "I thought about it and I'm sorry but I don't feel that way about you. You're like a grandfather to me."

He growled a reply through clenched teeth, "How could you say that?" And looked at her from the corner of his eye, "You've been flirting with me for years."

Naomi couldn't believe he was the same man who'd been laughing it up on the beach just an hour ago, "What?!"

He unclenched his jaw but the edge in his voice remained, "We've played tag on the beach--"

"Only with my sisters!"

"We kissed in the back seat of this van."

Naomi scoffed, trying to hide her panic, "I got back there with you because you asked. I didn't know you were goin' to kiss me!"

Rob finally looked at her and erupted, "Why else would I ask you to join me in a back seat!"

She had accidentally sent him into a rage, possibly putting herself in physical danger, but she could no longer control her actions. The deep feelings of betrayal, disgust, and fear were too overwhelming.

She yelled in his face, "Why would you think I wanted to kiss you?"

Rob immediately lowered his voice -- a so-called psychological tactic he loved to use when things got heated, "You told me you were saving yourself for marriage."

Naomi yelled again, "I told you that as my pastor!"

He spoke slowly, "You also told me you felt uncomfortable about your strong sexual desires."

"I thought I could confide in you!"

He removed his hands from the steering wheel and turned his body toward her. Looking deep into her eyes, he spoke gently, "I know you're a godly woman. With me, you won't have to worry about anything. I promise I'll never hurt you. You can explore your desires with me safely. No diseases. No pregnancy. And I'll take care of you, your mom, and your sisters."

Naomi couldn't believe what she was hearing, "You're tryin' to bribe me with my family?"

"It'll be a sacred union."

"You're already married, Rob!"

"It's okay," He spoke to her as if talking to an upset child, "We'll keep it a secret. Nobody has to get hurt. God's chosen few have always been misunderstood. We both know nobody will understand our love."

She screamed at the top of her lungs, "We don't have a love! How could you? I trusted you!" She smashed her fist against the dashboard, "You and no one else! And you'd do this to me? Were you doin' this all along?"

Rob maintained a steady, soothing tone, "I didn't do anything. It's God's plan, my love."

"SHUT UP!"

Naomi's hands were shaking so badly, she barely managed to undo her seat belt. She reached for the car door handle.

Rob raised his voice slightly and scolded her, "You promised me! You're not a liar!"

Her anger spent, tears ran down Naomi's cheeks as she looked him straight in his eyes.

Her voice shook as she said, "I think Jesus will forgive me for this one."

She shoved the door open, got out, then slammed it shut with a frustrated roar. Startled people in the park, who'd heard them yelling, stared at her. Avoiding their gazes, she angrily walked away.

She'd traveled several feet before Rob finished hauling his heft out of the vehicle. He called to her, "Did you buy your sisters' school supplies yet?"

She stopped on the spot.

"Or your mom's medicine?"

She lowered her head, tears cascading down her face. Her entire body shook as she clenched and unclenched her fists. A swarm of dark possibilities swirled in her mind.

A child's scream and laughter yanked her back into reality. Instinctively, she looked in the direction of the sound. The squealing toddler was being pushed on a swing by his smiling dad. Mom looked on, laughing loudly.

Naomi stared at the happy family. Memories of carefree days floated up from the depths of her mind. She could feel Rob's eyes on her.

Without looking at him, she walked back to the van, threw herself into the seat, slammed the door, and waited. After a moment, Rob squeezed behind the steering wheel, watching her. Without a glance or a word, she pulled the musty seat belt across her body and fastened it with a heavy click. It pressed against her chest and lap, pinning her to the seat. She folded her hands in her lap in a failed attempt to keep them from shaking.

She stared at the horizon, blinking away hot tears and taking measured breaths. Aware of Rob's gaze, she pressed against the car seat and bit her lip hard. Her body shook with adrenaline and terror.

Rob continued to stare at her as he started the van. He seemed to be savoring the moment as he raked his hungry eyes up and down her body.

***

The pastor sat the last grocery bag on the kitchen table.

He checked to make sure nobody else was around, then pulled Naomi close for a quick kiss on the lips, "See you Saturday, my love."

He headed out the door. She bent over the sink and washed her mouth out with dish soap.

She dried her face as Nancy came around the corner.

"Was that Pastor Rob?"

Naomi nodded.

A mischievous smile crept across Nancy's face, "Gee, I'm sure glad you two didn't die in your drivin' lesson!"

Naomi was too numb to even pretend to laugh but she forced herself to smile as sweetly as she could at her silly little sister, "That was funny, Nancy."

"Duh!"

Naomi pulled an ice cream cake from one of the grocery bags, "Look what I've got."

Nellie appeared in the doorway, curious. Naomi knelt so the kids could get a better look.

Nancy gasped, "Wow! Are we celebratin' somethin'?"

Naomi forced a warm smile for her sisters, "Yes. We're celebratin' how much I love you."

Just out of sight, their mother muttered, "Bring me some o' that to my room, Nancy," then shuffled back down the hall.

"Oh, Momma likes it, too!" Nellie said, "Thanks, Naomi!"

Nancy pulled a plate from the dish rack, "Yeah, I guess you're okay, sometimes."

At that, the three of them stuck their tongues out at each other playfully.

Naomi turned and placed the ice cream cake on the kitchen table. The golden ring on her left middle finger caught Nellie's eye.

Nellie pulled Naomi's hand to her own face so she could get a better look, "That ring's fancy! I like the diamond shapes. Did it cost a lot?"

Naomi briefly flashed a smile, "Yes, it cost me a whole lot."

"I won't tell, but Momma might get mad if she finds out."

Naomi gently pulled her hand free and stroked her precious little sister's hair, "I think you're right, honey. I bet she would."

[batatapako]

omg its literally me and you bbg <333333

my favorite thing is u bbg 💞

[politics-notmything]

Can pretend that it’s okay when it’s not (Part III)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Tw- abortion, clinics, i think thats it (let me know if you find anymore)

Jane had somehow managed to get Anne an appointment at the clinic in 24 hours, Cathy put a small bag together that was filled with traditional English sweets, her girlfriend's small green dragon that Cathy had bought her on their 3rd date and anything else they may need. Cathy never left Anne's side for the rest of the day, every time her cousin walked into the room Kitty would stop what she was doing and hug Anne tightly, nearly choking her on one occasion. It was obvious to the queens that Anne wouldn't sleep that night so they headed to bed leaving Cathy and Anne embraced on the sofa watching Love Simon.

The world was asleep when Cathy woke up. She felt numb as she walked back to her room to get changed for the day ahead. The incessant beeping of the alarm sounded like a heart monitor. Her blood was cold as she walked slowly up to the dresser, finally pressing the button to turn off the horrid noise. The numbers glowed bright red in the dark as she fumbled, finding a pair of stiff jeans and a shirt. Her blue socks didn't match and she barely found her shoes. Swallowing, Cathy kept the lights off as she grabbed her girlfriend's favourite hoodie -that actually belonged to Cathy- and moved back towards the sofa, passing by closed doors and queens who slept soundly.

She didn't remember the walk down the stairs. The house was bare as she made her way back to Anne and Cathy's feet felt heavier and heavier. She opened the door without knocking, finding Anne balled up on the couch with her back to her.

The heavy bags under Anne's eyes told Cathy she hadn't slept either. Cathy offered Anne a sad sort of smile and gently kissed Anne's forehead as she handed Annie her clothes and (Cathy's) hoodie before helping her silently out of the house, locking the door behind her, tucking the house key into the pocket of the hoodie Anne was now wearing. Cathy knew it was one of hers, the royal blue one that Anne had taken from her one night but she'd never asked Anne to give it back. In that time when things were easier.

Somewhere in the depths of Cathy's chest, she felt a gentle warmth as Annie looked up at her, but it vanished as easily as their misty breath as they traversed down the steps and Cathy helped Anne sink into the passenger's seat of the car.

Neither queen spoke, even as Cathy pulled the car into park and threw the door open, the squeak resounding in the otherwise empty parking lot. Anne remained in the seat as she rounded the car and opened the door, holding out her hand. Anne looked up into her lover's face, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she slid her hand into Catherine's. It was warm to the touch and the green queen relaxed.

Anne didn't move, facing Cathy as the two stared at one another. "Are you ready?"

She knew the answer before Anne tore her gaze away, down to the space between her green vans. "Not even a little."

"I'm here," Cathy said. "I'm here now, I'll be here when you get out."

"Thank you," Anne mumbled, letting Cathy tug her toward the building.

It was a tiny clinic, with white stucco walls and a glass door. Though it was a quiet area and the building was no bigger than a gas station, it felt ominous. Fear made Anne's stomach churn as they approached and Cathy opened the door, moving through it. Anne hesitated for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for the blue queen to notice her trepidation. She stepped back out, letting the door close behind her and wrapped her arms around Anne's shoulders.

"It's going to be alright," she said, burying her nose in the brunette's hair. Anne gripped her around the middle, face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

"I'm glad you're here," Anne admitted, hiccupping.

Cathy drew back, sucked in a breath, and glanced over Annie's shoulder at the car. "I would never let you do this alone baby."

Anne took another moment to collect herself. The bell over the door chimed, but to the queens, it resounded like a gong. The receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled softly as Cathy led Anne toward her.

"How can I help you two?"

Catherine looked down at Anne, biting her cheek. Anne cleared her throat, eyeing the divider between her and them. It was a lip, like a little shelf, and on it sat a bowl of suckers right next to a matching bowl full of condoms. "I, uh, have an appointment." 

Her smile wavers, just barely, and she turns her body toward Cathy, opening herself up. Cathy's grip on Anne tightens and she clears her throat, giving her name. She pulls up your information and starts asking standard questions; where you live, how old you are, how long you've been-

"Do you know the father?”

Her voice is quiet as she addresses Cathy and Anne felt her hand squeeze hers once more. Not for her own comfort, but for another reason she couldn't quite put a name to. "No," she breathes. "No, I'm... I'm just.."

"Support?" The woman's eyes flicker to Anne's face and back to Cathy, who nods briskly. "That's very thoughtful of you. I'm sure she appreciates it."

"More than she’ll ever know," Anne blurts. Cathy bows her head, a light blush on her cheeks. The receptionist smiles again and holds up a clipboard with paper and a pen attached to it.

"Fill this out, bring it back up when you're done. Some of the questions might feel awkward, but they're all important so please answer them to the best of your ability."

Cathy takes the clipboard when Anne fails to respond, still staring at the bowls of condoms and suckers like the world is playing a sick joke on her. Catherine thanks the receptionist and turns, tugging the gremlin's arm. Anne snapped out of it, following Cathy toward a pair of chairs that face a wall covered in brochures.

The queen eased into the chair, gripping the pen and trying to focus on answering the seemingly obscure questions. Cathy stands and crosses to the brochures, swiping up a random one and pretending to read it so her girlfriend could fill out the paper in privacy. Silently, Anne's eyes sweep over the page and she answers the questions one at a time, hand moving across the clipboard numbly.

When was your last period? Do you take birth control? All standard questions she had been asked a hundred times before, but now each 'yes' or 'no' or 'i don't know,' felt as though she was signing some sort of death warrant. The humming of the fluorescent lights sounds like a beating drum, the sound of the receptionist typing rapidly matched the beat of Anne's heart.

Cathy watched in the corner of her eye, the text on the brochure blurring in her sight. Anne's hunched over, tugging on the sleeves of Cathy's hoodie and staring at the paper as she scribbles on it.

Just yesterday, they had been laughing and smiling as Anne took Cathy to get ice cream, even as Anne told her that she'd told the queens to give her money for Christmas. (money she told them she was saving for a new pair of heelies), but Cathy knew better. She knew the money was sitting in Anne's pocket, waiting to exchange hands after the procedure. It hurt somewhere deep in Cathy's chest, and she silently wondered if she had enough in her account to pay for it herself.

Tears glazed over Annie's eyes as she gave the clipboard back to the receptionist and Cathy glanced up, tucking a brochure labelled "Vasectomy: Birth Control for Men" back into its place.

"I had no idea they did men's health stuff here too," she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck. Anne grinned up at her as she sank into the chair beside the green queen. "What?"

"You're not planning on getting one of those, are you?"

She snorted. "God, no. I want..." she froze, tearing her gaze away and looking at the floor. "Sorry, that was... "

"It's okay," Anne told her lover, clearing her throat. "I want kids again someday, too. Just, not yet."

Cathy smiled gratefully at her and wrapped a hand around Anne's neck, kissing her cheek. Anne didn't know how to respond, so she rested her head on Cathy's shoulder and they sat silently, thoughts racing as green fingers intertwined with blue. "Let's get our life figured out first. Yea?"

"Thanks, Cath," Anne said, rubbing the heels of her palm in her eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How do you know if you found the right person? I mean, it obviously wasn't Henry. But I think I've finally found the person I want to be with forever, but forever is a long time isn't it." Anne sighed, "How do we know we're ready?"

Cathy doesn't answer right away. She's staring at the brochures, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in thought. "I think it's something you just know," she answers, speaking slowly. "You look at them and, suddenly, it's like the world gets a bit brighter. You just want them to be happy, you know? All that matters is that they're okay, even if you're not. Even if you're not part of the reason they're happy. And when they aren't, you do anything you can to fix it. It's loving someone, even if they might not love you back. If you'd still love them without getting anything in return, it's real." Cathy smiled at Anne, her eyes were full of love and care for the other queen. Anne slowly closes the gap between them and tenderly kissed Cathy's chapped lips. Cathy grins when they part and embraces Anne in a firm hug.

I'm going to marry this girl. Anne fantasised and the thought made her heart flutter.

They're silent as the door opens and a nurse appears, calling Annie's name. They jump, Anne's hand white-knuckling onto Cathy's like a vice. The clock above the door reads 7:30. She locks eyes with Cathy and she offers a reassuring smile as Anne stood up.

Cathy watched her girlfriend walk toward the doors but immediately jumped out of the seat as Anne shot a quick apology to the nurse and sprinted back to Cathy pulling her into a much-needed hug. 

"Promise you'll stay Cathy?" She mumbled into Cathy's shirt.

"I'll never leave you, mon amour," she replied, kissing Anne's forehead. "I promise."

Anne stared at Cathy, the way her maroon eyes were heavy but filled with inspiration and wonder. Her smile wavered with the force it took to keep the corners of her lips tugged upward. Faint wrinkles set in her face, ageing her slightly, and Anne remembered how many times she'd thought of spending the rest of her life with this woman. How she would be right beside her, raising their children. Subconsciously, Anne's hand pressed over her stomach. Cathy's eyes flickered to it and then away, and Anne let go of her hand with great reluctance before following the woman behind the door.

Cathy watched until the door closed with a soft click, then forced herself on wobbly feet, moving toward the door. Stepping outside, she ruffled her hair and to a deep breath of air.

She should have said something. The thoughts had raced through her mind at that moment, though it was only a flicker. How many heartbeats were in the moment it would take her to tell Anne that she still loved her again? To express her deep feelings for the Boleyn girl. Cathy's own heartbeat seems like thunder in her ears, sounding a lot like the alarm clock, like a heart monitor beeping somewhere in a distant future she can't quite place.

Pacing around the parking lot, Cathy watched her shoes falling in time, trying to keep herself awake and make the time go faster. She wanted to see her girlfriends face, to know if things were going to be alright.

She thought about buying flowers, something to cheer Anne up. Cathy knew which were the gremlin's favourite, she had bought them for Anne every Valentine's Day for the past 3 years even when they weren't a couple and Anne was dating some jackwagon who used her and, subsequently, ran away. Said jackwagon never bought Annie flowers.

But the bitter irony was too much, and this was not a celebration. You only bought flowers when someone was celebrating or someone was dead, and the last thing you'd want was condolences in the form of rosebuds. Cathy surmised that, instead, she could take Annie back home and make pancakes. The queens wouldn't be awake for a while, and they wouldn't question their presence in the early morning hours. She could shower and then the two could lay in Cathy’s bed, watching the twinkle of London lights and, instead of the shrill sound of an alarm, maybe she could wake up to Anne’s kiss again.

Catherine shoved her hands in her pockets as the door swung open, startling her. Anne lingered in the open door for a moment, tear tracks running over her soft cheeks and hands hidden in the sleeves of Cathy’s borrowed sweatshirt.

"That was fast," she mumbled, trying to lift the gremlin’s spirits. Anne stared at Cathy, not really seeing for a moment. "What is it?"

"Are you in love with me?"

Your question threw Catherine for a loop and she turned, facing Anne and squinting. The giant lights, towering over the two of them and the castle-esque clinic, created a halo of light. Everywhere that was not within the parking lot was only darkness, and for that moment, Anne and Cathy were the only people in the world.

"What?"

"Because I didn't love you back. No, I do love you, Catherine. More than anything! I mean, I never said it out loud," Anne reinforced, stepping out of the door. It closed behind her, and Cathy inhaled sharply. "I need to know, right now. Right here. Because I think... I think I've made enough mistakes, and I don't want to make another one."

Catherine stared at her converse for a second, nodding in understanding before her gaze landed on Anne’s face. Her eyes bore into the blue queen’s and Cathy nodded, softly. "Yes," she admitted, voice soft and true. "Yes, I am."

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"I support you no matter what you do, you know that." Catherine sighed, shoving a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. "We could, I dunno, move into our own house! If Jane allows it, of course. I, I like kids. Kitty can babysit once in a while. If this is what you want, we could figure it out, me and you. I'll pick up more hours at work, I'll take some classes. I already know CPR, I don't mind changing nappies-"

"Catherine, it's not your baby."

She freezes, mouth open to continue, but she pauses long enough for her confidence to waver and her eyes to close. "I know that. I know. But I love you. And I would do this. For you. I'd do anything. Literally anything for you! Rather you loved me back or not."

"You think you can live with that? Live with, what, being the mother of someone else's baby?"

"If it was yours, yes," Catherine doesn't hesitate, her hands are shaking and Anne knows, by the way, her eyes snap open and bore into hers that she means it.

"We’ve been so happy these past weeks. It worked back then, how do you know it'll work now?"

"I don't," Cathy admits. "But I've been here the whole time and I'm willing to try."

"Would you still want any of that? If I go in there, and I come out alone, would you still love me, even after this?"

She shrugs, shaking her head. "I just want you to be happy. Whatever you choose, it's your choice. Not mine. Yes, I'd still want you. I'd still love you."

Anne sighs, pushing her hair back from her face. "Are you sure? Because, well, I've... I've heard that babies, they cry. A lot. Sometimes for hours, sometimes at three in the morning when you're trying to sleep or having sex."

Cathy laughs, it was such a Boleyn thing to say. Her eyes catching the light in a way that makes Annie’s heart leap into her throat. Anne took her girlfriend’s hands, glancing back at the clinic, and step away. Catherine clears her throat as Anne turns back to the clinic, taking slow steps towards the building. "Wait for me here?"

Cathy nods, all traces of joy sucked out of her as her green sleeved lover disappeared back through the doors. A sickness turns in Catherine’s stomach, but it's immediately extinguished when Anne skips back out, stopping in front of her with her arm outstretched, offering Cathy a sucker from the receptionist. She takes it, carefully, her brows raised.

"I almost got some condoms, too," Anne tells her. Taking her the survivor’s hand and guiding her back towards the car. "But, I figure, we wouldn’t need those.” She gestures between them and winks. 

Cathy laughs again, popping the sucker into her mouth, and stops in her tracks to pull Anne into her arms. As she yanks the passenger door open, Anne glances back at the clinic and then to Catherine’s soft smile, standing on her toes to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She kisses back without hesitation, letting go of the door to hold Annie against her

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 59

59. Warnings and awkward emergencies

Lanyon was having tea and cakes with Lady Summers, when her butler announced a visitor.

“Who is it?”, she inquired.

“It's Dr. Faust. He says it's urgent.”

Lanyon blinked.

He hadn't heard anything from Dr. Faust since the day Lady Summers had introduced him as her childhood friend.

And honestly, he was fine with it. Childhood friend of his Lady or not, he didn't need to deal with the likes of the brisk German alchemist every day.

Lady Summers thought differently of course, and so she ordered her butler to bid him come to her.

“Shall I go?”, Lanyon asked, “In case-”

“Go, if he asks you to, but otherwise I wouldn't see why you couldn't stay”, she replied.

As soon as she had finished that sentence, the alchemist in question came in.

He stopped short, when he saw Lanyon.

“Have I interrupted something?”, he asked, but before either of them could answer, Lanyon saw the oh-so-familiar flash run through the other man's eyes.

“Ah, alright. Well, as much as I hate to ruin your tea party, I need to tell you something urgent – no, no, you can stay”, he added hurriedly, when Lanyon stood up. “It concerns you and your friends too.”

“Before you tell us, sit down, Johann”, Lady Summers requested. “You look awful.”

That was true: Dr. Faust was wan and had dark rims under his eyes. He looked, as if he had been plagued by nightmares for weeks.

“I have been”, the redhead confirmed Lanyon's suspicions, as he sat down. “It's been two weeks, since I got a good night's sleep.”

Lady Summers frowned. “They must have been really nasty. Did you relieve your traumata from the Thirty Years War?”

“Haha, I wish!”, the alchemist hissed. “In the last two hundred years, I have learned to deal with those! No, it was different this time. At first I thought they were normal nightmares, but they're not.”

“What was it?”

“Prophetic dreams.”

Lanyon's curiosity was awoken. He could recall the older man mentioning that, just like Alma Donovan, he had the gift of precognition (in addition to his telepathy, witchcraft and alchemy).

Dr. Faust continued: “I dreamed about the organisation that kidnapped you and Victor, Perenelle and Nicolas. They're still kidnapping people for their … scientific crimes against humanity.”

What a befitting description to what they did to my Lady, Lanyon thought grumpily.

“They did it to the others too”, the alchemist informed him. “Apart from the vasectomy, of course. But back to the matter at hand. Like I said, they're still looking for victims. And they have their eyes on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And of course you, Luise. But they're far more careful, since you shot their spy in the arm. They're more interested in victims who can't defend themselves.”

“Figures”, Lady Summers snarled. “I knew it – verdammt¹, I knew it!”

“Compose yourself, Luise”, Dr. Faust told her. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, that going to Soho during the following two months won't be wise. Especially for Dr. Jekyll, considering that Mr. Hyde and you are professionals at combatting several opponents at once and Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson always carry a revolver on them.”

Gabriel has taken to carrying a gun? Good! One thing less to worry about!

“And if he has to go there – be it to visit Mr. Hyde, for whatever reason – he shouldn't stray from the way under any circumstances. Abductions always happen in small alleys, where no one can witness it.”

Lady Summers nodded: “Right. I'll let them know.”

“And also tell them, that those bastards found out, that they're actually one and the same person – and that you gave Mr. Hyde your blood.”

The Countess paled. “Wie zum Donnerwetter² did they find that out?!”

“I don't know that either”, Dr. Faust admitted. “I have yet to find the answer. But I do know that they're interested in Dr. Jekyll's scientific work – and they want to test his blood and see, if he is now ageless, like you and me.”

“He is”, Lady Summers informed him. “He and I both made tests on both his blood and mine. But unlike them …”, she scowled, “… I had his consent and cooperation.”

“Of course, we all know that”, the alchemist tried to appease her, “It is a problem though. If you're both immortal and ageless. It gets harder and harder to hide these days.”

“Was it easy in your time?”, Lanyon asked curiously.

Dr. Faust chuckled: “Certainly, as long as you didn't stay in a place for too long. The only registries we had were the parish registers and they only recorded the baptisms, not the actual birth dates.”

“So you know, when you were baptised, but not when you were born?”

“That would be the case, but I got an emergency baptism. But we're digressing from the original topic. Just tell your friends to be careful.”

“You too”, Lady Summers replied.

“Oh trust me, we do”, Dr. Faust muttered, “Nicolas and Victor always take a loaded gun, when they leave the house and Perenelle and I never go out alone – and no, I didn't come here on my own either; Victor is waiting in the parlour. Accompanying me where I go is one of the few things he's useful for-”

“Don't be so hard on him”, Lady Summers scolded him. “He accompanies you everywhere, because he loves you and because he's just as paranoid as you are.”

The alchemist gawked at her. “Holy Mother Mary! Call me out, why don't you!”

Lady Summers rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Johann, just admit that all the traumata of your past have made you so paranoid that you're frightened of leaving the house alone! And that you're taking him alone, because he's equally paranoid!”

“He already knows that”, Dr. Faust growled. “I would rather burn on the stake than show the weakness to admit to that love-sick fool, that I'm afraid of something!”

Oh, I can sympathise with that.

“Johann, I know that you value your pride, but you should put it aside for a few-”

“I know Victor, Luise! That child will put it into his head that he needs to protect me – me! Like he doesn't know who he's dealing with and what I'm capable of!”

That sounds like Utterson.

Dr. Faust inhaled sharply. “Let us not talk about that! I refuse to turn this into a discussion about my paranoia or Victor's puppy love!”

Lanyon decided that this conversation was none of his business and let his focus wander. That way, something caught his attention; the alchemist's breathing was growing shallow and laboured, close to hyperventilation, like he was struggling to breathe – just like a woman whose corset was too tight.

Hardly noticeable, but Lanyon was a physician – he knew dyspnoea³, when he saw it.

Lady Summers however didn't seem to notice. “… Fine. Be that way. You're as stubborn as a mule – don't you dare flaunt your age! I don't give a damn about it, ich kenne dich doch!⁴”

“Nun hör mal zu, Frau Markgräfin …!⁵”

Whatever he had been about to say, he didn't get to finish it. Instead he supported himself on the table, coughed and gasped for breath.

Lanyon jumped up and ran over to support the other.

Lady Summers' smug demeanour crumbled immediately. “Johann?”

“Can't … breathe!”, he wheezed.

Her eyes widened and she quickly shooed them into the next best empty room.

On the way Lanyon caught her exchange a quick glance with the alchemist – telepathic communication.

Then he too heard her mental voice, speaking to him this time: “You need to help him take off his vest and shirt – but don't be shocked at, nor question what is beneath.”

Lanyon nodded and readied himself for something that would probably be as disturbing as Lady Summers' surgical scar.

Dr. Faust obviously wanted to protest against being stripped of his shirt, but was too busy trying not to suffocate.

When the other man saw what was beneath, he realised why.

But he ignored it, apologised for what he was about to do and took the binder off.

That solved the other doctor's breathing problem, but he promptly snatched a blanket to cover himself and glared over his shoulder at Lanyon.

“I can't believe you just did that!”

“Look, I'm sorry for invading your intimate space like that!”, Lanyon spat angrily, “But it was either that, or you would have suffocated! Don't you dare start raving! I'm a fucking doctor and chemist, I have been called a freak for almost my entire life, I have a best friend who is also my ex-lover and split his own fucking soul like the madman he is and has now an even madder alter ego, the woman I'm in love with is an aristocrat, who can read minds and handle a sword better than any man could and you think that I give a damn, that you're … whatever the word is?! Newsflash, I don't fucking care! My priority is the fact that your binder just nearly asphyxiated you–”

He stopped short.

The ginger-haired alchemist had turned his face away and his head was drooping. He was clutching the blanket tightly to his body and shaking, as if he was-

Guilt set in with a vengeance.

“I'm sorry”, Lanyon apologised regretfully. “I didn't mean to make you even more upset.”

“I'm not upset”, Dr. Faust said quietly and wiped his tears away forcefully. “Not really.”

Now Lady Summers, who had watched the argument with obvious discomfort, spoke up again: “How are you feeling now, Johann?”

“Better, thank you”, the alchemist replied. “Sorry for that. I didn't expect it to happen now of all times. It's been more than ten years since it happened last.”

“That was the stress”, Lanyon pointed out, “Stress always alters breathing patterns. And with the chest binder cutting off your air supply, the lack of oxygen made you panic.”

“You know this from Luise”, Dr. Faust noted. “Anyway, I should pick up Victor and go home.” He stretched a hand out from under the blanket. “My clothes, please.”

Lanyon saw himself out – he had ignored the rules of decency enough for one day.

“Thank you so much for helping”, Victor Frankenstein told Lady Summers, as he and Dr. Faust were saying goodbye. “I've been worried about him for weeks.”

Lanyon almost laughed, when the red-haired alchemist behind Frankenstein grimaced and threw his hands up in exasperation, as if to say: Just as I said earlier!

Suddenly the hoary doctor had an idea and addressed it mentally.

Both telepaths present blinked at him in surprise.

Then Lady Summers looked at her old friend, excited to see his reaction.

At first the immortal alchemist didn't react. But about thirty seconds later his face flushed lightly, his eyes shone and he smiled – that was answer enough.

Frankenstein looked between the three in confusion. “Am I missing out on something?”

“No”, the older immortal told him. “Nothing of your concern.”

The black-haired mad scientist looked a bit doubtful, but then he shrugged and dropped it.

Dr. Faust turned back to Lady Summers and Lanyon: “Thank you two. Much obliged. Also, as I said earlier, don't forget to tell your friends about my warning. And wish Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde a happy birthday from me.”

“Will do”, Lady Summers told him. “And you, Johann, make an appointment with my dear doctor still this week. I happen to know that he's-”

“Free next Friday afternoon”, Lanyon finished her sentence.

Dr. Faust chuckled: “Right, I'll come to make the appointment tomorrow.”

Lanyon smiled back: “See you then.”

“You know”, the ginger-haired alchemist said, “I'm beginning to actually believe that you're truly deserving of her.”

“Johann!”, Lady Summers chided.

“Doctor!”, Frankenstein exclaimed.

But Lanyon took it with good humour and laughed: “Well, who am I to contradict your verdict, Dr. Faust? Have a nice day, you two.”

“You took it really well”, Lady Summers remarked, once they had left.

Lanyon shrugged. “I wasn't that surprised, honestly. But I had never thought about it in his presence.”

She blinked. “You figured it out?”

“I had suspicions”, he told her, “But they were based on vague ideas and a bit of a long shot. A few physical traits I noticed, because I'm a doctor. But even though they're assigned to females, they aren't necessarily. So I didn't want to assume anything, before I knew the truth – and honestly I didn't think that I ever would.”

They went back to the greenhouse room.

“Speaking of the truth – it is like this, right? That he's a man despite his female biology?”

“Exactly”, Lady Summers confirmed.

Lanyon exhaled in relief. “Oh, good. I've seen someone like that before, but I wasn't sure.”

The Countess sighed: “They're called 'deviants', but I don't like that word.”

“Of course you don't!”, the doctor snarled, “Because it's bullshit and you have more than two braincells!”

Lady Summers laughed heartily. “And that, Hastie, is why I love you!”

---

1) Verdammt! - German: Damn! 2) Wie zum Donnerwetter - German: How the heck / literally: How to the thunderstorm 3) dyspnoea: breathlessness 4) "...ich kenne dich doch!" - German: "I know you!" 5) "Nun hör mal zu, Frau Markgräfin!" - "Now listen up, Madam Marchioness!"

[gillianaunofficial]

The Man With A Child In His Eyes

AO3

Part One

Rating: T for tiddies

Part Two: The Man With A Child In His Eyes

Jean undressed in the bathroom, the already running taps pelting the tiles with hot water as they filled the bath. She dropped the yellow embroidered robe to the floor, revealing her changing body. She looked down at herself, at the soft curve of her stomach. Jakob had joked about her needing to drink more of his “detox” smoothies that she detested. She still hadn’t told him. She spread a hand over her naked stomach, the child held inside of her. Jakob’s child. She turned to the floor length mirror, fogged with steam and condensation. She felt old. She hadn’t believed it when the GP had told her she was pregnant. She was almost 43. She looked at her body, the way her boobs lay, not as independently suspended as the years past and they were… sensitive. Strangely sensitive. She knew it was because she was pregnant but anytime Jakob had attempted to touch her there she’d flinched away and told him to stop. She craned around to look at the small patterns of cellulite collected on the back of her legs. She felt the flesh of her ass, not nearly as pert as it had once been. She didn’t feel like her. Where had the time gone? For so long she’d wanted another child but knew it was going to be impossible and yet, here she was carrying her impossible child, unbeknownst to anybody else. She sighed, looking down at herself, a gentle wrinkle gathering between her eyebrows. She wrapped her bare arms around her chest. Hugging herself to hold her feelings together. She dropped her arms and slowly got into the bath. She had to be careful, gentle. The risks of having a child at this age were numerous and the likelihood that she would have a miscarriage even higher. She knew the risks, the potential for heartbreak. She wanted this though. She forgot the responsibility of carrying a child inside of her, an almost living, breathing person. It felt nice to have something she could care for. She submerged each limb in the hot water, lying back in the bath, the choppy ends of her hair trailing in the water. After a while she began to wash herself, lathering her skin with soap, she was delicate with her stomach, slowly dragging her softly lathered hands over it, leaving trails of white bubbles all over her. She worried. But she was not allowed to worry. She needed to relax. For her baby. She had to.

She sat quietly on the bed, wondering, as she pulled her yellow robe tight around her. Her white camisole was getting a little too tight to wear, soon she would need to buy new clothes to accommodate this child. She sighed, looking at her short fingernails and the perfect half moon shapes of her cuticles. She remembered cutting Otis’s nails when he was small, wriggly and funny and giggly. She was always alone then, uncaring at that time about Remi cheating on her, Otis was all she had on her mind. She wondered whether her child would be a boy or a girl. A girl, she hoped. Hope. Hope was all she could hold onto. Tonight she would tell Jakob. He deserved to know.

Jean set two plates of salmon paired with lentils down on the table. Otis had gone to stay at Eric’s house at Jean’s request. She’d told him it was important and her and Jakob needed some space. He’d huffed, saying that Eric would rather go out with Adam but ultimately agreed. Jean poured a glass of wine for Jakob and filled a glass with water for herself. She was on tenterhooks waiting for the knock on the door. For Jakob to arrive. She held her breath, adjusting her hair in the mirror, running her hands down the orange dress she’d lately been favouring. She wasn’t wearing the chunky brown belt she normally wore with the dress as she thought it may be a little too small and potentially uncomfortable. She adjusted the laid out cutlery, making sure each fork lay perfectly straight and in line with each knife. She glanced at her watch. 7:02 pm. Jakob was meant to be here two minutes ago. She walked to the porch, peering out of the front door’s peephole up the path to see if Jakob was approaching. No luck. She waited another few minutes and sighed, he was normally punctual. She went back through to the kitchen and sat down, checking her phone for any missed texts.

Half an hour had passed and Jean had given in and eaten her meal, placing Jakob’s in the fridge. At this point she doubted he would appear at all. She worried that something had happened to him. Again she checked her phone, nothing but a missed call from a telemarketer. She played Candy Crush for a little while, sipping the end of her water when she finally heard a knock on the door. She quickly got up from her chair, walking at speed through the house, she pulled the door open and there Jakob stood, his hair flopping against his forehead.

“Where have you been! You were meant to be here at 7pm and by now…” She checked her watch, “it’s almost 8:30.” She sighed.

“I’m so sorry, Jean, my tire popped on the motorway and my phone ran out of battery so I couldn’t tell you.” Jakob said and Jean grabbed him into a hug.

“It’s okay. I made dinner but I already ate mine and put yours in the fridge.”

They sat down, Jakob hurriedly eating his dinner, he’d been starving, stuck in the middle of the motorway waiting for the AA to arrive. He drank his now warm glass of wine.

“Jean do you not want a glass?” He asked gesturing to the bottle. She tensed, now was the time to come clean.

“No, actually I need to tell you something.” Jean said, her thoughts becoming jittery.

“Are you sure you don’t want any wine first?” Jakob said again, taking a swig. Jean nodded.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She said. “Jakob…” She began, arranging her thoughts into some comprehensible order. “After we separated, I had noticed some symptoms and so I went to the doctor.” At this Jakob stopped eating, noisily placing his knife and fork on his mostly empty plate. The worst thoughts began to cloud his mind, memories of his ill wife in her last days. As he said, he couldn’t do that again.

“What was wrong?” He asked, looking at Jean, his eyes the most beautiful blue Jean had ever seen.

“I had noticed a tightness in my chest, irritability, among other things. I expected I was in perimenopause.” Jean said slowly, smoothing the pleats of her dress with her hands.

“And were you?” Jakob asked, more concerned and delicate than Jean had thought him to be, there was a tenderness in his expression, of deep introspection and concern.

“I was, yes, well am but also…” She swallowed, taking a deep breath, the necklace she wore suddenly heavy on her chest. “I was also…”

“Jean? Please, tell me.” Jakob said holding out a hand for Jean to take, his short jagged nails digging into her perfect, soft skin.

“I’m pregnant.” She looked up at him, stifling the tears she had been letting fall far too readily.

“I had a… what do you call it…” Jakob thought for a moment.

“A vasectomy?” Jean finished for him.

“Yes, a vasectomy. How is it possible?”

“That’s what I said when she told me.” Jean said, calculating her words, trying to conserve only the facts.

“Are you sure?” Jean nodded.

“At my age... I couldn’t believe it and I still can’t. The likelihood of carrying this child to full term is a 50/50 situation.” Jean sterilised the words, broke them away from her own situation. “That is if I want to keep it.”

“And do you… Want to keep it?”

“It’s my last chance of naturally having a child Jakob. I do. I don’t want you to have this responsibility though, if you don’t want it, you already have your two girls and I have Otis. I know they’re almost grown up but we’re still there to care for them but I want a baby. I want someone to provide for.”

“Oh, Jean…” Jakob placed both of his hands in hers. “Our child.” He said, barely loud enough to be audible. He kissed her knuckles. Jean smiled, forlorn, nostalgic.

“You want to keep it?” She asked, the hope in her voice that drove her.

“I do. Of course I do, Jean.” She got up and sat down on his lap, his arms wrapped around her, holding her with just one hand, the other splayed over her growing stomach. Jean’s chin rested on Jakob’s head, the smell of his plasticy hair gel a warm familiarity. She kissed his forehead and he kissed the collarbone that lay above her heart.

“I love you, Jean.” No one had said those words to her in such a long time. She felt at home, in the arms of her lover, a father, a creator.

[batatapako]

(っ˘³(•́ ᵕ •̀?) <- kissing you <3

thats kind of gay and or straight of u ngl

[batataaurdoodh]

Q, K (bunal), Y :333

Q- A fandom you've abandoned and why

Haikyuu. I LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW WHY. Oh also Danganronpa because of the fandom. I think Haikyuu's abandonment happened because of covid and i just got tired lmao.

K- What character has your favorite development / the best development arc?

OHHHHUGHHHHHH I'm gonna be biased if i answer tkbk so I'm gonna say Atsu. I absolutely love his dynamic w Sanzo and his whole awakening story <3333 IT'S SO GOODDDD

Y- What are your second-hand fandoms?

Reverse 1999. LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU. Then Star Rail... I think that's it really.

[ahmiyahstanton97]

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[helenwestgathering-blog]

Nature Lovers And Earth Mothers

What does it mean to be clean and green?

Go vegan, buy organic, and drive a hybrid car? Get your dog or cat neutered and lock them inside so they don't overpopulate and become an invasive species? Do everything to protect the plants and animals, even from themselves, while trying to keep every human alive on artificial life support? Yeah, I'm about to discuss human overpopulation.

The human population is almost 8 billion.

Every wolf, dog, and cat added together equals....

Less than 2 billion.

Add every ape besides humans....

STILL less than 2 billion.

Pet neutering is the law in many places, advocated as a way to prevent overpopulation, yet every canine and feline added together is less than a quarter of the human population. Overpopulation leads to more competition for space and resources. The closer we're all crammed together, the more we'll kill ourselves and each other. Small isolated populations prevent infectious diseases and violent raiders from travelling too far.

But overpopulation is a myth!

We do have enough natural resources!

Technology will solve our problems!

Just eat less meat and plant more trees!

Has modern technology really solved any problems yet? Or does it just make more problems, hidden in fine print or behind a sparkling smile? The modern age as we know it, only about 250 years, is only a fraction of our 250,000 year history. The human population was less than 1 billion for most of our existence. No pills, vaccines, or internet.

But people would die without modern medicine!

Babies would die!

Yeah, that's the point of depopulation. Death is a part of life. When a mother bear is too hungry to feed her cubs, she'll eat one or more cubs to make milk for the rest, or at least keep herself alive to get pregnant again some other time. I don't advocate eugenics or genocide, but I know veganism and "clean" energy aren't the answer. Perhaps a change in healthcare policy....?

But cows eat more soy than vegans!

Maybe we shouldn't feed cows soy? Or grow them in cages? It isn't how we evolved; cows and humans are both nomadic species, but humans are omnivores while cows are vegetarians. Vegetarians who prefer grass, not soy.

But eating animals hurts them!

Then why do vegans protect so many other animals who eat meat? We all get eaten by something, whether it be bacteria, another animal, or your own immune system. A short life well-lived should be more important than a long life of misery. Studies show that plants do indeed have a biochemical response to injury, which is all pain really is. And what about all the microscopic animals like tardigrades....?

But racism and sexism is the real problem!

Capitalism! Corporations!

The government​!

The whole human population could all fit....

I hate this argument: Overpopulation is a myth because we have enough natural resources and we could all fit inside a skyscraper. Yes we could, but for how long? Without powerful and  dangerous drugs, we would all kill ourselves or each other. Humans are a naturally territorial species. Yes we are a pack animal, but every pack has its size limit, determined by more complex factors than just food and space. 

Humans are happiest in groups of 25 to 150, up to 1000 for a short time, with 1 square mile per person. I agree that sexism and racism are problems, but they are also just the symptom of a bigger problem. More humans means more individual beliefs to clash over. More humans means less personal communication, less trust or respect between leaders, merchants, doctors, and civilians. More humans means less room for the other animals you love.

I oppose all vasectomies and hysterectomies​....

But please fix yourself before your cat or dog.

[batatapako]

Tkbk in formal attire <3

this is the fanciest hes ever gonna get

[batatapako]

Yeah uh, I accidentally send you the asks without emojis but 👍

I SHALL GET TO IT IN A BIT but one of them will be for ur eyes only <33

[batatapako]

STOP BEING MODEST, BRO HAS LIKE 40+ OCSS

YEAH ... 3-4 FOR EACH FANDOM, THEN 10 FOR TROKA AND 40+ FOR BGK..... NOT THAT MUCH... BLINKS... BLINKS