#what if the mother's choice to abort is god's word coming to her?

[asyourshadowfalls]

Hey prolifers!

If you don't support a UBI, updated gun restrictions, free quality education, free healthcare, fully inclusive medically accurate sex ed for children who are capable of being pregnant or impregnating, mandatory child support paid from conception on; then you're not actually prolife, you're just hellbent on forcing babies and mothers to suffer :)

[abiiors]

red lines - pt. 1 ║// matty healy x reader

a/n: i want you to read this very very carefully: i am pro-choice and i will always be pro-choice. and this is a work of fiction. also feel the need to add that this is more a collection of small vignettes??? ugh idk, hope you enjoy regardless cw: *deep breath* angst, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, mentions of vomit, (and other pregnancy symptoms), crying (so much of it my god) and arguments, mentions of smoking, illness, hospitals, panic attacks, reader has a good relationship with her mother so i guess that's a cw too, (most definitely inaccurate) descriptions of birth. wc: 4.6k

two red lines is all it takes to ruin a perfect life. 

two red lines repeated twice on two different tests that stare back at you from the counter—innocent and white and damning. the bathroom is utterly still, save for the tap dripping one drop every seven seconds. you would know, you counted it, used those seven seconds to ground you and stop you from spiraling into another panic attack for the three minutes it took to get those two red lines. 

pregnant. 

with two more weeks left on tour by matty’s side. 

gingerly you wrap them in toilet paper, make sure they’re safe and secure and nothing’s peeking out. you throw it in the bin, looking at it with a deadness on your face that you feel deep inside. then you call the reception and ask them to take out the trash. 

matty isn’t here. he’s on stage, serenading thousands of people who hang on to every single word he says, looking at him with all the love and adoration in the world. matty, your matty, who belongs as much to you as he does to the people, the fans. you should have been there too but there was the migraine and the nausea that wouldn’t go away. so you told him you would just sleep it off tonight. 

have an amazing night, babe. break a leg. and then a sweet kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow. 

and then the two red lines.

every time you blink you see them flash in front of you—like a promise or a warning. or maybe even a sentence. 

pregnant. 

a baby. 

a cause for happiness and celebration. 

and the conversation from a week ago that lingers in your mind, echoes inside your skull as if those words are the only ones you remember. 

i’m just not ready love, he says, not now. maybe not for another year or two. i don’t know, babies are a lot of work. and i am a lot of work. 

i love you, he says, kissing you deeply and tasting his own cum on your lips. i love you but a baby right now is a hard no. 

nothing in particular spurred this conversation really—just the two of you, naked, and tangled up in the sheets, his hand caressing your lower stomach and you letting yourself daydream. who knew the daydream was indeed reality? and now here you are, head in your hands—partly from the migraine, partly from the anxiety—waiting for him to be back. 

he will change his mind, you know it. matty loves you, and this baby is half you, half him. he will come around and you will be there to soothe his worries. you know he will hear the baby’s heartbeat and fall in love. 

you know he will treat them like the most precious thing in the whole world. 

the thought makes you smile and the door creaks open. 

“pregnant,” he looks at you warily, “what do you mean pregnant?”

the small smile on your face fades away. “pregnant with a baby, matty. what other kind of pregnant is there?”

you wonder if you meant to joke, if he will break character and laugh and everything will be okay again. maybe you just caught him by surprise, this is just a blip. in two more minutes, he will smile and drop down to his knees and kiss your still-flat stomach. he’ll say hello to them. tell them he loves them and then tell you how much he loves you, kissing you gently and pulling you into him. 

you can already feel his feather-light touch on your skin. his mouth lingering on your lower stomach on his way down. 

matty stills in place. 

“no…”

one word, it’s small and broken and so unlike him that you almost do a double-take. 

“what do you mean no?”

“i can’t okay?” his voice rises, “i told you i can’t!”

you can sense the agitation he feels, his hammering heartbeat and the shallowness of his breaths. his hands runs through his hair, spilling the curls everywhere. 

“you’re on the pill.” 

“i think…” you hedge, tears gathering in your eyes, “i think i missed a day.”

he snaps his head up to look at you. when matty first came back to the room, he looked happy and giddy—cheeks pink and hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. now he looks grey and listless. like all the colour’s been zapped out of him. 

“you missed a day,” he repeats. 

“matty, please…”

but matty is already turning around and storming off to the balcony. through the glass you watch him light a cigarette with shaky hands, taking a deep drag before he tips his head back and blows it out. another drag, another blow. eyes closed. breathing that slowly goes from rapid to normal once again. 

five minutes later, only the stub remains and matty is back in the room. 

“i can’t,” he says firmly. “i told you i wasn’t ready.”

it sounds final. like a death knell. instictively your hand covers your stomach.

“i won’t,” you shake your head and the tears fall rapidly, first down your cheeks then your chin and onto your chest. “i won’t get rid of it.”

matty stares at you quietly, you stare back. it seems you’re at an impasse. 

twenty minutes later, you pack your bags. 

london is greyer than it has ever been, especially from your new flat so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. not that you’ve had much time to get acquainted with the new area after being bent over the toilet for days on end, retching and heaving until there’s nothing left inside you. a hollowness so deep that no amount of food or water will fill it. 

so you eat strictly for the baby. pre-natal vitamins and supplements and a nutritious breakfast that you throw right back up. but you try. all for the sake of the tiny clump of cells dependent on you. the image of the two red lines has long been replaced with a grainy black and white rectangle. every time you close your eyes, you see the screen lit up with an image of your little bean, moving around. in some far back corner of your mind, you think they look happy.

at night you curl up on your cold bed, phone in hand, the baby’s heartbeat playing on repeat. it used to be his, your brain reminds you painfully. back when you slept all cuddled up with him. head on his chest, his soothing heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

you mother is worried about you. she calls at least thrice a day to make sure you ate every meal and took every pill. she comes every sunday to stock you fridge full of vegetables and fruits and make sure you have enough ginger and peppermint tea. sundays, begrudgingly, become your favourite. your mother, once again, becomes your best friend. 

but you can’t let her move in. can’t let her be a constant presence and drive you crazy and unearth him every chance she gets. so like clockwork, at 6 pm, you usher her out the door, tell her you need privacy and quiet and solitude. like every single time, she promises she’ll be back next sunday. 

and every single time she keeps her word.

one day you wake up to a change—a small one, really, but a change regardless. barely even noticeable at first. it’s your top that doesn’t reach all the way down. maybe it shrunk in the wash, you think. then the full length mirror reminds you of the reality. and the tiny little bump that’s seemingly grown overnight. 

your little bean. suddenly so real. so tangible. so present. 

“hello, little one,” you coo at your stomach, feeling a little silly at first. there’s no reply, of course, just the sounds of morning traffic coming in from the open window. but your eyes stay trained on the bump. “you weren’t so noticeable last night.”

nothing happens. no movement (of course, not. they’re too small for that.), no one appreciating the change with you. matty who should have been here to witness this…

matty who isn’t here to witness this. 

emotions swirl in your head so fast that it’s dizzying. this time there’s no tears falling one by one. there’s the sobs that come all of a sudden and the floodgates that open in the blink of an eye but he is not here to hold you or pull you into his chest when you gasp and gasp for a breath that never comes.

in a panic you dial the first number you can find in your contacts, gasping and yelling out broken sentences and panicking at whoever’s picked up. it’s 8 am on a wednesday, whoever you called must be utterly bewildered. yet when you can focus enough, you realise it’s a man’s voice replying. a familiar voice. shocked and equally panicked and asking you if you’re okay again and again. 

you pull the phone away from your ear and look at the screen. at adam’s name flashing on it. 

the first contact on your list. one starting with an a.

“fuck,” you mumble. “sorry, i’m okay. i’m fine.” and then you hang up, and rock yourself back and forth on the ground until your breaths resemble something normal. 

fifteen minutes later, there’s pounding at your front door and the bell rings incessantly. in your gut you know it’s adam. and it’s confirmed when his voice floats through the door. 

“open the door,” he urges. “i need to know you’re okay.” 

and so you pull yourself back up, harshly wipe away the tears and unlock the front door. 

it’s only been a month since you last saw adam but he looks different. his hair’s grown out, his dark circles are gone and in spite of the worried look on his face, he looks happier somehow. healthier. 

being back home with the love of your life and your baby will do that to you.

“you look well,” you croak out and then clear your throat. adam doesn’t take the bait. 

“do you need me to take you to the hospital? call your gp?” straight to the point as always. you smile at him fondly. 

“no, no i don’t. i’m okay, i promise.”

“you didn’t sound okay.”

“i meant to call my mum, adam. sorry i dialed the wrong number.”

“regardless,” he holds up a hand. “can you please talk to me. or talk to mat—”

“don’t.” the voice that comes out of you is stern. “he doesn’t want me or the baby. i will not let him talk me into an abortion.”

adam winces and rubs a hand over his face. perhaps that was harsh, you think, he’s not some evil villain. but none of it changes the outcome. in every single universe, you end up here—fresh off a panic attack in your living room, talking to your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. 

“how did you know where i live?”

at that he looks a bit sheepish. “i asked you mum. not today!” he reassures hastily when your eyes widen. “don’t worry. i asked her a few days ago. i wanted to… i’ve been meaning to check up on you.”

“and you couldn’t call?” you smile at him wryly. 

“no. i wanted to see you in person.”

“so you can report back to him?”

adam clicks his tongue and warmth fills your chest. he’s always been good to you, always been kind, and loved you like a little sister. you shouldn’t have cut him off like this. 

“no,” he says. “so i could make sure you were okay.”

it’s a small mercy that the morning sickness eases a few days after that as your bump continues to grow. more often than not, you find yourself with a hand on your stomach, drawing small circles on it and humming to it. lately, you’ve also noticed the little flutters that linger long after you stop humming. your baby responding to you. showing you they’re there. 

it’s not far before you approach the twenty week mark. the most important scan you’ll have throughout. you’ll find out the gender, you’ll find out if they’re healthy or not. 

and each time you think about it, it’s like the weight of the entire world is on your shoulders. 

the night before you contemplate calling your mum, nervous and panicked once again but it’s almost 11 pm. she would be deep asleep by now—she would be excited too. no need to put a damper on her mood. 

then you wonder if calling adam is a good idea. but you quickly scrap it. 

for the first time in months your finger hovers over the familiar name in your contacts. over the little heart that’s still next to his name that you never bothered to change. 

what will he say if you called him now? will he even pick up?

are you ready enough to brave it? 

the truth still remains. you want this baby, he doesn’t. the same impasse you were at months ago. if any of that had changed, he would have called you. he would have reached out… right?

so instead you do the second stupidest thing. you type up his name in google. 

your stomach churns with nausea or anxiety or just impending doom while the webpage loads—slow, too slow for your liking. or maybe time has simply slowed down and you’re too much of a coward to really face the consequences of your own action. 

the webpage loads. the frown on your face deepens. 

nothing. rather, the last article written about him specifically is from two days after the tour ended. everything after that is either recycled news, or some silly quiz about the band. nothing about him. no pap photos, no social media activity. absolutely nothing to indicate he’s even left his house in the last few months. 

you mind buzzes with all kinds of thoughts, swirls with wicked possibilities. you almost even text adam about it before the turning your phone off abruptly and chucking it to the other side of the bed. 

no more temptation. 

sleep is like a fickle friend—has been since the day you left the hotel room in tears. but you close your eyes and imagine your baby’s heart beating inside you in sync with yours. tomorrow, there will be a new recording to replace the older one. hopefully one that’s stronger. calmer. 

when sleep drags you under around three in the morning, you dream of his hands—fingers gingerly touching your stomach, resting on all the spots that flutter with movement. gentle hands that massage your sore feet and work out the kinks in your back. 

hands that you might never feel on your skin ever again.

the doctor smiles coyly and slides an envelope to your mother. it’s a little hush-hush secret, one she insisted on and begged till you relented. the gender reveal isn’t huge or flashy but you know there’s a cake waiting for you at home along with a few friends and family. and for the first time in months, you let the excitement of it wash over you. 

the scan was perfect! and now you feel a bit bad for clutching your mum’s hand hard enough till she’d winced (even though she hid it quickly and smiled at you in encouragement). so now here you are, thanking the doctor and practically skipping out the room with your mum laughing in tow. 

she looks lighter too, you realise, much more carefree as she gushes about her precious grandbaby and how excited she is to meet them. 

“we have to buy onesies!” she squeals getting behind the wheel and you laugh.

“we will, mum, but they’re going to grow out of it in weeks so you can’t go crazy, okay?”

she dismisses this with a wave and a pfft and you can already imagine the mountain of clothes she’s going to buy over the next twenty weeks. 

you nod off to the sound of your mum excitedly making plans for an elaborate baby shower, one that you’ll have to beg her to tone down, but her voice fades away soon. instead, you dream of him. your subconscious wonders what he would have been like today—maybe he’d cry out of excitement or being overwhelmed, maybe he would smile so wide his cheeks hurt. in some parallel universe the two of you would be in the baby aisle—hand in hand and cooing over tiny onesies. 

in this universe, you jerk out of the daydream just as your mum parks in the driveway. 

your friends and family don’t yell “surprise”, much to your relief. there are many hugs and congratulations. tears of happiness and jokes and then a delicious vanilla cake brought in front of you. 

everyone waits eagerly. no one brings him up. not even you, as you sink the knife into it and cut a slice. 

it’s pink. a gorgeous, pale pink. it’s a girl. 

everyone cheers. your mum hugs you and you sniffle into her shoulder while laughing giddiy. a girl, your baby girl. 

right then you know what you’re going to call her—you don’t need baby name lists on google or a hundred suggestions from your mother. you already know her name. 

mia.

mine and mine alone.

blink and twenty weeks go down to fifteen and ten and then five. each day it seems like you only get bigger and bigger, impossibly so. your life is filled to the brim with baby stuff, inside and out. everywhere you look there’s either a pram or a crib or pregnancy books. every time you get one spare minute you’re reminded of the back aches and sore feet. the constant hunger that just does not seem to go away no matter how much you eat.

your mothers visits increase from only sundays to whole weekends to three days a week. 

at first you protest—fuelled by hunger and hormones and mood swings. fuelled by the rage of a thousand burning stars as you stomp into the living room where she’s folding yet another batch of baby socks and blankets. 

“you’re suffocating me!” you snap, already on the brink of tears while she looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. 

“baby—”

“no! mum,” a deep breath and a few stray tears, “i’m not a baby. i’m having a baby for fucks sake.”

“language!” she scolds.

“stop it, just, please!” there’s not much you can do but stomp your foot like a petulant child. proving her point most likely. “stop acting like i need to be coddled and protected. just. stop!”

your mum looks speechless, too stunned to speak but the ball is rolling and now you cannot stop. 

“i don’t need you here. i don’t need you acting like i would crumble and wither away without you. i don’t need you and i certainly don’t need him—fuck!” you gasp for a breath, choking mid-sentence. 

the second those words spill out of you, you want to take them back but it’s too late. her eyes are already red-rimmed and glossy. one tear rolls down her cheek and that’s all it takes for you to break down completely. 

“fuck!” you repeat. “i’m sorry, mum. i’m so sorry.” that’s the only thing you can chant until she chucks the clothes aside and wraps her arms around you, shushing you the best she can through her own tears. 

for the first time in eight months you wonder about what if. and for the first time in eight months, you think about his words from that night. 

maybe not for another year or two.

you’re closer now to the one year mark that you’re to that night. mia kicks your insides again—her own version of support or maybe it’s her doling out punishment for never introducing her to her dad. either way, it’s not helping. all it does is spread pain throughout your lower body as you hold onto your mum, rocking back and forth. 

“it’s alright, sweetheart,” you mum whispers gently, kissing the crown of your head and cradling you like she used to when you were a kid. it makes your emotions worse. increases the ache tenfold. 

“i miss him, mum,” you admit finally, in a voice so small that you might as well not have spoken. but she hears it anyway. she hears it but doesn’t interrupt. she lets you speak. 

“every single day i wonder if he even gives a shit. or if he regrets leaving me, leaving us. i speak to adam and carly and i wonder if they ever tell him about me. i wonder if he even cares…”

you gulp down air, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jumper and cuddling into her further. 

“and after everything. i miss him more than anything in this world.”

there it is. the truth, finally out there, finally spilled after months of pretending to be cold and callous. you wait for her to speak, to say something that will dull the pain and release you from this torment but she never gets the chance. 

because that is the moment your daughter decides to make her grand entrance.

it’s pain like you’ve never felt before. 

pain and panic and unadulterated fear. she’s not supposed to be here yet. you’re only 35 weeks pregnant—nowhere near full term. what if this affects her negatively. you blame and blame—first yourself; you must have done something wrong, right? ate something wrong or not taken the right vitamins or slept the wrong fucking way. then you blame matty. if he was here, you would have never been this stressed and unhappy in the first place. everything would have been smooth-sailing. 

and yet a small part of you yearns for him to be here. to brush your sweaty hair away from your forehead instead of your mother as the doctor yells at you to push. 

it’s all too much, all too soon. this is not how it’s supposed to be. this is not how any of this is supposed to be. 

the machines around you beep in a rhythm that’s all worng—it’s too loud and erratic and out of sync with the rest of the world. surely, that’s not how fast your heart’s beating. maybe the beeping is something else you’re unaware of. and yet your body feels hot and cold at the same time. too weak to move but pushing and contracting and tearing you apart from the inside. you’re vaguely aware of the screams that tear out of you, of gripping your mum’s hand so tightly that you worry, you’ve bruised it. 

but she’s strong, stronger than you’ll ever be. she endures and passes along some of that strength to you. 

“one more big push,” the doctor encourages. she’s a kind, middle-aged woman. probably someone who’s brought many babies into this world. she knows what she’s doing. but your body won’t cooperate. 

all you feel is a bone deep exhaustion that tries to drag you under as your mother taps your cheek. 

“a big push, baby,” she repeats. “one big push and her shoulders will be out.”

and that would almost be the end of it, right? so you nod with whatever’s left in you and breathe the way they taught you in birthing classes. 

and that’s how it goes. inhale. hold. exhale. gather strength. push. all of it done to a constant stream of rather futile encouragements. until you feel like you’re bursting at the seams and coming undone. about to unravel any moment. 

but then a tiny cry echoes around the room and the world comes to a standstill.

mia’s arrival changes everything in the blink of an eye. 

you have no time left for self-pity; every waking moment is occupied with feedings and nappy changes and laundry. you sleep when she sleeps, you hold her close every chance you get. you sing her and cradle her and shower her with enough affection for two people. she has you and your mum. she doesn’t need anyone else. 

slowly you let other friends and family visit—extremely selective and protective about who gets the priviledge but one afternoon when adam messages you know you can’t deny that to him. even when you’ve tried to keep him, and all of them by entension, at bay. 

in another universe, she would have been his goddaughter. you’re sure of it. 

so you let him and carly and their son visit, let them hold her and gush over her. carly instantly falls in love with her, cradling her close and trying to make her smile even though she’s just woken up. mia babbles at her and grabs her shiny necklace. 

you watch them transfixed, giggling at carly’s squeals and coos until adam asks if he could speak to you alone. 

“i don’t want to step over a boundary,” he starts and you know what’s coming but you let him continue. “have you thought about letting him know? that she’s already here…”

“i…” in all honesty, you had wondered if you should call him and let him know. but what if he still doesn’t care. “i didn’t. i couldn’t.”

adam’s face softens. “he’s back in london, you know? you could. you could try.”

that piques your interest. you hadn’t knows he’d left in the first place. “he’s back?”

adam takes a deep breath, eyes darting slightly and lingering on his wife as if he’s trying to steel himself. as if he has some news he’d rather not share. in the end however, maybe he chooses not to.

“yes, he’s back,” he says, trying and failing not to sound cagey. “he wasn’t until now. but if you would talk to him… just, i think you should talk to him.”

for the rest of their visit, his words linger in your mind. they stay even after the hanns leaving, promising another visit whenever you’re free next and you tell them they’re welcome any time. this time, you even mean it from the bottom of your heart.

but adam’s words come back to haunt you day after day as mia continues to grow. day after day you watch her learn about new things and figure out new stuff around her.

matty should be here. if not for him then for her. and once again you wonder about calling him.

one last chance. if he ignores this then he loses the right to his daughter forever.

so one tuesday morning, you gather the courage. you strap your baby to your chest and go downstairs to make some pancakes.

“after breakfast, darling,” you tell her, even though those words aren’t meant for her. “after breakfast we’ll call him again. maybe he will pick up. maybe he won’t.”

mia babbles when you kiss her head and flip a pancake, ignoring the worry that settles in the pit of your stomach. you’re so focused on the task at hand (rather, at ignoring the thoughts of impending doom) that you almost miss the doorbell that rings once and then again.

so focused that you have to scramble to wash your hands and rush to the door. maybe it’s your mum again, even though she wasn’t supposed to come today. it won’t be her first surprise visit, though. she misses her granddaughter far too much for that.

in a hurry you open the door, without even thinking about it twice. without even bothering to unstrap your daughter from your chest.

matty’s familiar face comes into view and for the second time in three months, the world comes to a standstill.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars

add yourself to the taglist

[evanoid]

Political Rant

US Elections

TW:Trump,Talk of violence and Su*cide,mention of abortion and SA

I'm so enraged about the outcome, it's hard to put into words.

I'm not even living in the USA mind you.

I had so much hope,Kamala Harris seemed so promising.I know that she has flaws in her views and politics as well but anything would've been better than a convicted Felon.Hell, even a damn rock would've been a better choice.Harris is so ridiculously qualified,and i bet she only lost because she simply is not a white man.

And now,all I see from the men that support trump are comments like: "your body,my choice" or "lefties are so emotional,womp womp" or "you'll live" and so on.

It's so infuriating,I want to smash their heads in with a hammer until all of them are unrecognisable and choke on their blood.

1."your body,my choice" comments that seem to flood comment sections are evil and shows how much men truly hate women,how much they hate their mothers,daughters and sisters.

2."the left is so emotional" is just like throwing rocks in a glass house.When the left loses,they don't go out of their way and violently respond like the MAGA cult did last time,they stormed the capitol building and trump also said this election,that if he'd lost it would "end in a blood bath". How can someone not think that these horrible excuses of human beings are any less than utterly out of their minds? Demons on earth Tbh.

3."you'll live"

No.Many won't.You know what you voted for.And the simple truth is that people of the LGBTQ,people of colour,women and other minorities will get scrapped of the few rights they have left.Police violence will go up,violence against queer people and people of colour will get worse.The hysteria stirred up against trans people will get worse.Women and girls will literally die for not having proper access to abortions.

And before someone says "they should keep their legs closed".SHUT UP.SHUT THE FUCK UP.you stupid idiot bfr.

Pregnancy takes two,R*pe exists whether you deny it or not.

People will either kill themselves or get killed and when it hits someone close to you, and you did vote for trump,then I have no empathy left for you.You deserve everything that is coming for you,I hope everything you voted for happens to YOU personally.I hope you suffer.

Trump isn't a Christian,he isn't a man with good values.Anyone who thinks this Rap*st is anything but a narcissistic,selfish,spineless,godless Bastard is delusional or just as bad.

Your god won't forgive you.No one will,you're on the wrong side of history and I,again, genuinely hope it bites you back.

[givemearmstopraywith]

how do i reconcile being religious (catholic specifically) while also being pro-choice? I’m sorry if this sounds like a bait question, it’s not i promise! But recently i’ve been grappling with my faith again and trying to immerse myself with god again and i feel a bit….dissonant i guess? over having strong opinions on abortion and then on the other hand being religious. i don’t feel grief about being pro-choice, it’s something i believe proudly and w integrity. but it seems like i am in between two opposing great forces which demand of me to choose one over the other? do you have any kind words on how i could possibly reconcile with these? thank you x

i just finished writing research close to this topic, specifically on the problem of mary's consent. which of course comes back to issue of bodily autonomy which is central to questions of abortion. and mary is a problem: theology can neither acknowledge the problem of rape nor accept a consenting woman. to not consent is to be raped, to have control over your body, to say "yes," to consent, is to show a yearning for sexual pleasure, for oneness, and to innate acknowledge that a woman has control over her body before Go does. women must be both and neither: that is why we have the virgin mary. according to contemporary understandings of consent, mary simply could not consent: effectively God has autonomy over her body before she does.

the historical mary is a woman: she is jewish, poor, young, unmarried, and pregnant, and is the ultimate embodiment of liberation theology’s “preferential option for the poor.” but she is absolutely absent of any sexuality. when marcella althaus-reid states that poverty is a bodily and sexual matter, mary cannot be included in this statement. mary is never indecent: her existence is pinioned on the concept of her decency. she is the “right” version of all women, the perfect mate for the god-man: she is submissive, and receives him without becoming distracted by the matter of her self-determination. mary is never overcome by a profane hunger. theology requires this ultimate model of femininity to measure against all other women.

elisabeth schussler fiorenza calls attention to the danger to ecclesiastical and political authorities if mary is rendered as a self-determining single mother: a single woman who is “god-empowered, god-protected” and “filled with the holy spirit who exalts the violated and makes the fruit of illegitimacy holy.” if mary was rendered as excitedly or joyfully consenting to the act of impregnation by god, she would not suit the dominant narrative of women’s sexuality in theology: her joy can only be vocalised after she has already submitted to the masculine-penetrative god-man.

a woman who leans into the oneness and pleasure of union with god because it is pleasurable, out of the locus of her body and her sense of self-determination rather than a sense of duty or submission, has no defined place in christian theology. she can only be appropriated and co-opted by dominant patriarchal narratives, talked over, and silenced. a mary who found pleasure and joy in her impregnation, who readily and excitedly agreed to the divine directive in full knowledge of its implications, implies a femininity which cannot be controlled.

i mention mary because mary is the nexus of most catholic arguments about abortion, whether she is specifically named or not. she is the excuse used to block anyone regarded as "receptive" to patriarchy from having control of their body. i personally read the lucan narrative as mary consenting: let what you have said be done to me. this is consent, though we may debate whether or not it was informed or coerced. but i cannot imagine that christ would have come into the world through an unwilling mother. nor does God force belief on those who do not consent to believe: only people, only dogma, forces itself on the unconsenting. so in this way i can say that God cannot exist to us without consent. violation is a human creation: it is humans who violate God at the crucifixion. as such God cannot exist to us without bodily autonymy, without allowing us choice- it is the human creation of fascism which denies choice, and i hold that dimension of denial absolutely separate from God, because it is not part of God. God may be used to excuse it, but God cannot deny the natural choice and autonomy of his creation without also violating his own existence.

as for catholicism, it is old and it loves augustine. the idea that abortion is wrong is a fairly new invention in the cahtolic church and really only comes from fears that all babies are destined to hell. medieval catholicism saw life as beginning at the "quickening," which could mean anything but was seen as the first movement of the child in the womb. quickening was seen as the moment of ensoulment, and church views of abortion dictated that after ensoulment, a baby would be condemned if not baptized. it is this bizarre and exceptionally antiquated view that is the foundation of contemporary abortion debates: but even contemporary ideas of "human at conception" are ludicrous in comparison to how medieval catholicism understood when a person became a person separate from the person of the one bearing it. christianity dispelled with the judaic idea that the mother's life was more important than the fetus: it is typical of christianity to dispel of its own humanity.

effectively what i'm saying is that things change. the church changes: we find ourselves in unfortunate epochs, but the catholic church is prone to evolution and i appreciate that. but i don't feel, in any way, that being pro-choice and being catholic are at odds with each other. your morality is simply beyond where the magisterium can currently gather itself, and that's okay. the church has always been like that and probably always will be. it is the body of believers, those in the grassroots, those out in the world, who matter the most: over and above canon law, since all law (unlike God) is subject to editing and change. maybe that's a bit controversial: i don't believe it is. jesus didn't live in the temple, he lived on the street. he loved his religion, but he also knew that certain aspects did more harm then good. and maybe he felt conflicted over his love for his faith and his conviction about humanity. you walk where he treads: be proud of that.

[torchwood-99]

@dollypopup

Potential angsty Polin plotline going forward, to give Colin something meaty?

One thing I've noticed with Pen is how in series 1&2 she manipulated two people she depended on for love from getting too close to another person who would "steal them" from her, both times saw them cleave closer to her (if only for a time RE Eloise).

Both times she justified it on the grounds she was " protecting them", but she chose to protect them in the most damaging and humiliating way possible. Instead of being honest with them and giving them the info they needed to know, she played them, hurt them, torpedoed their relationships with the "interlopers", and was rewarded for that, for a time.

Penelope's own mother is someone who "protects" her loved ones by playing games and manipulating things, and I think Penelope learned that method from her, in part.

Now, imagine Penelope finds herself tempted to do so again. Perhaps Eloise befriends someone who Penelope disapproves of, perhaps Eloise begins a friendship with Sir Phillip who dislikes Penelope for what she did to Marina and Marina (and George's children). Not unkind to her, but coolly civil, with a thinly veiled contempt (which honest to God considering the love George had for Marina and the fact Marina nearly died trying to abort the twins because of how desperate Pen's actions made her, is totally how he should react, but see the writers actually acknowledge that), and so Penelope tries to drive a wedge between them.

Colin finds out. Penelope tries to apologise. Colin is like "you've said sorry so many times Penelope, but it's just words." And then he's like "we've got a son, we've got a child. One day he is going to grow up and start making choices, and you're not going to like all of them. One day he is going to make friends you disapprove of, one day he is going to meet a woman he loves more than you." and he asks her when that day comes, Pen's going to do to their son what she's been doing to them.

And Pen tries to deny it, but it sounds hollow because she's made so many promises to do better, and she keeps going back to her old tricks, and Colin is like he loves her, so much, but he has a duty to their child, and he doesn't want to hurt her, but for their son's sake he can't risk her hurting him, like she's hurt so many people who trusted her.

Anyway, the terror of Colin not trusting her with their child really gives Penelope a wake up call, and she recognises Portia's own example in herself, which she owns up to Colin. And recognising this behaviour and its causes gives some hope that Penelope will genuinely work on herself, but there's an understanding between her and Colin that she really needs to make a serious change, and that there's only so many times Colin can forgive her.

[nkn0va]

After reading that one izanami post i was wondering if you could do other bb girls reacting to an unplanned pregnancy? Possibly noel kokonoe and tsubaki?

And this request takes the title of taking the longest to write due to various unfortunate circumstances...

-Chances are the...act that lead up to such a thing happened because you couldn't help but notice her severe lack of self confidence, especially in her body. One thing lead to another and it ended up happening as a more direct way of assuring her that you did indeed find her attractive.

-However in the heat of the moment neither of you remembered the potential consequences, nor the protection for such consequences. The two of you had to find out the hard way. As soon as the test comes back positive Noel especially is just stunned, not knowing what on Earth to be thinking right now.

-Truthfully, she'd always wanted to be a mother deep down and do for a child what her parents did for her when she had nothing, but at the same time now that it's actually about to happen she's probably having a breakdown.

-She has no idea what to do with a child when it eventually comes, she's far too busy with her job in the NOL. And god forbid Major Kisaragi finds out the reason she suddenly has to go on leave.

-At least you have the excuse to finally not have to worry every day about needing to eat Noel's cooking or deflect it as believably as possible and get her to rest. You can finally take the reigns for once in that department.

-The news is received to...mixed responses. Makoto is thrilled, already getting ideas of being the 'fun aunt'. Mai's somewhat in the same boat but also slightly worried for you two. Tsubaki has some very choice words for you. If she wasn't already close friends with you she would've probably landed you in the ICU, best case scenario. After she gets over her initial shock and rage she can finally calm down and take the situation for what it is. She's not a fan of abortion so this is something everyone has to deal with now.

-As excited as Noel is about the prospect of a child, she's also extremely nervous. She doesn't want to mess this up. It only gets worse the closer to birth she gets, you're gonna need to spend a lot of time reassuring her.

-When the time does finally come and she hears her child's first cries, holding them in her arms, she very quickly breaks down into tears, and in that moment she knows she wants to be a mom.

-Kokonoe doesn't really pay attention to...those particular base urges of hers. At least she didn't until you started dating. That's when she finally started having those intrusive thoughts.

-Normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, but this is Kokonoe we're talking about. She shows absolutely zero restraint in those intrusive thoughts 90 percent of the time so you were pretty much doomed from the start. Or blessed, depending on your perception.

-Shortly after your night together she starts getting sick in a way she never had before, none of it made any sense to her. It was only when started running checks on herself she realized what happened.

-Well this is just fucking great.

-This was seriously the last thing she needed right now. She was caught up in trying to contain Azrael all the while dealing with the Civil War. She didn't need a damn child on top of that. As much as she wants to just abort and get it done with, she just...can't seem to muster up the will to do it, and that's still without you expressing your want to raise a kid with her. She soon begrudgingly resigns to her fate and lets it happen.

-If you think her chocolate addiction is bad normally, you haven't seen shit yet. She is going through the stuff by the bucket while pregnant when she has her way. If you're smart about it though you can leverage this fact and bribe her to eat normal, healthy food for both her and the baby's sake.

-The actual pregnancy itself doesn't really affect much outside of that. She almost never went out anyway and she has non-in-person ways of ordering people around so they're left in the dark about it.

-She is cursing you and squeezing your hand in active malice during the birthing process. Given her beastkin strength, you've got several bones in there cracked now. At least Sector Seven's medical care is top notch so you recover in record time.

-You're gonna have to take primary care of the kid, Kokonoe is already busy enough as is dealing with all the shit she has to deal with. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to, though.

-Deep down, she does wanna care for the kid, she knows what it's like to not have parents in her life and she doesn't want her own child to have to endure that. Out of care but also out of spite to be a better parent than Jubei was. She has no idea what she's doing and she acts like she isn't trying but she really is doing her best despite her complete and utter lack of experience. She just hides it behind the the apathetic, impatient mask. When no one's watching she's researching every childcare related topic she can so that she can give them a better life than she had, but she'll never let you know.

-The chances of such a prim, proper, chaste girl like Tsubaki getting pregnant by accident is very slim. The only real way this is happening is if you're already married to her and she gets curious about the act. She'd never even heard of it until embarrassingly late in life and it was only when she entered the military academy and overheard fellow classmates talking about it.

-However as smart as she is, she forgot about the concept of protection in the heat of the moment. An uncharacteristic mistake on her part which she soon found out the hard way, causing her brain to basically shut off as she stares down at the test.

-On one hand this was always what she's wanted. To settle down, marry, and start a family. She was looking forward to it ever since she fell for you. On the other hand, the weight of what that really was finally started to set in now that it was about to happen. Being wholly responsible for the health and wellbeing of an entire person that depended on her for basic survival was now starting to really mean something for her. You're gonna have to snap her out of this and reassure her that everything will be fine as long as you two tackle it as a team.

-Similarly to Kokonoe, her love for chocolate only grows more pronounced during pregnancy, though she does at least realize she can't live off it. She's much more mature about it. She'll try to hold back most of the time, though try is sometimes the keyword. It's pretty cute in all honesty.

-All her friends soon inevitably find out and most of them are thrilled. Jin much less so, but it's Jin. He still wishes you well, though not without threats of freezing you to a popsicle if you screw this up. You already got that when you married Tsubaki though, so no big deal mostly.

-The moment you confirm the baby's gender she immediately starts the name brainstorming, her excitement is infectious. She definitely steers towards more traditional names in her preferences, mostly Japanese but a foreign name can definitely catch her interest if it's meaning really speaks to her values.

-Tsubaki is basically the model mother every mom wishes to be. She's devoted, understanding, caring, and has an endless amount of love to give. She can finally give all that love to an offspring like she's always wanted, and she'll make sure her child is never lonely like she was growing up.

-Of course though, part of that includes the child having siblings...she'll go as far as you want to with that. At least one more, but other than that she has no particular preferences herself. The more the better in her opinion but she does also want to respect your wishes since you might not be as excited as her. If you somehow are she only falls even more in love.

[morgynnk]

Is It Different?

Chapter 2

Pairings: Sophie Beckett X Benedict Bridgerton / Anthony Bridgerton X Kate Sharma

Warnings : Light smut, Talk of abortions, Teen pregnancy

Word count : 4k

——

“Ben please say something” Sophie whispered as he just stared blankly at the test on the counter.

He looked up at her slowly “what do you want me to say?”

A tear dropped from her cheek at his remark and she quickly bit out “Please don’t be a dick”

He stood up quickly wrapping her up “No I didn’t mean it like that I meant seriously what do you want me to say? What do you want to hear?”

She looked up at him “I want you to say what you’re thinking”

“I’m thinking how? Because we’re always careful so a part of me is thinking that…”

She gasped “Benedict Bridgerton don’t you dare think that this baby isn’t yours” his eyes widened because that’s not at all what he was saying “Oh my god no I was not implying that. I was saying maybe it’s meant to be if it got….” He stopped talking as he remembered a memory “oh my god”

“What?”

“Ants birthday party in London we both got very very drunk and you told me to pull out and-“

“Did you not!” She cut him off and borderline yelled and he closed his eyes and sighed “I thought I did but apparently I didn’t”

“So that’s explains the how… but I don’t even know what we’re going to do you’re not even 18 yet and I just turned 17”

“I’m gonna have to take a gap year so you can do your A-levels”

“No you are not doing that”

He backed away “so what I go to London or Oxford and leave you here in Kent alone with a baby and school?”

She looked down “or there’s no baby”

He knew her issues with teen pregnancy and knew how important is what to not end up like her mother but he never thought they wouldn’t solve this together. “Soph you don’t mean…” he asked gently and she nodded.

Ben quickly stood up “No you can’t”

She scoffed opening the bathroom door and walking out “it’s my body Benedict!”

He stopped in his tracks “Yeah you’re right but just know if you choose that I don’t know if I can stay with you”

Her eyes widened as they both stared at each other with tears in their eyes standing in silence until they heard his phone ring.

“I’m gonna take this just give me a second” he told her and she nodded.

B: Hello dad

E: Benedict where are you son

B: Uhm I’m kind of in the middle of something at Sophie’s. Something kind of important

E: I know Anthony told me

Ben groaned. It wasn’t the idea of his dad knowing it was that so many people knew before he did and they knew before Sophie even made her decision.

B: Well then you know this conversation is important

E: That conversation should be had around an adult yes?

B: But father

E: You either come here with Sophie and we all talk about this or you come talk to me and I tell Richard to talk to Sophie

B: Yes sir. We’re on our way

He sighed and put his phone his pocket. Sophie looked at him confused “what was that?”

“Anthony told my dad which is fine but he is threatening to tell your dad if we don’t go speak with him and my mother”

Sophie gulped “Anthony knows”

Ben chuckled “Well yeah you told Kate which I’m annoyed she knew before me”

Sophie quickly shook her head “no I did not tell Kate that I was. She just gave me some tests but I never shared the result so they guessed”

“Well regardless are you coming to talk to my parents or would you rather talk to your dad about your choices” he spit out the last word so she knew how he felt

She glared at him “I guess I’m going with you”

——

*Age check*

Anthony: 20

Kate: 19

Ben:17 almost 18

Sophie: newly 17

Colin & Daphne 15

Eloise & Francesca : 13

Gregory : 4

Hyacinth : 2

Edmund and Violet had their kids back to back but after two sets of twins they decided to give their kids a decent gap.

Kate and Sophie met in ballet when they were little and have been bestfriends since. Sophie dated Benedict first and then introduced Kate to Anthony the summer of 2009.

——

Anthony sighed tossing his phone in his pocket and opening his bedroom door back open “babe where’d you go?”

Kate popped her head around the corner “Is it safe? You’re not gonna murder me”

Anthony chuckled wrapping his arms around her “No I’m not going to murder you BUT I do not like that I knew that before my little brother it’s not my place”

She sighed leaning into him “I know but she’s my bestfriend and to be fair all I said was she asked for some of my tests I never said if it was true or not”

Anthony sighed “if she’s talking to him and says it’s important I’d say she is… wait how does she know you have test does she know?”

She shook her head “No she doesn’t. She just knows I bought some awhile ago”

He nodded and then groaned causing Kate to laugh “what’s wrong with you”

He pulled away from her grabbing his phone “I have to call my dad”

Her eyes widened “Anthony Edmund Bridgerton No!”

He glared at her “Do not use my full name on me I have to! He needs to talk to them before Ben does something stupid”

Kate gives him a curious look “like what? Force her to use her right to choose”

He shook his head “no like bully her into not using her right to choose” She hummed “do you think she should use her rights?”

He shrugged “That is not my decision nor is it Benedict’s but if anyone can assure her she has a right to choose it’s my parents” and he was right despite having 8 kids they were always more accepting than anyone else’s parents

———

Benedict and Sophie got out of his car and walked to the door hand in hand. He sighed before he looked at her “Forget what I said at your house. No matter what I am here. I’m not leaving you” she smiled softly and kissed him before they walked

They walked in and knew that his parents would be in his fathers office so that’s where they went. He knocked lightly “Father…” he said lightly and Edmund cleared his throat “Come on in”

Ben took a deep breath and walked in and they sat on the couch opposite of their parents. They sat there in silence for five minutes until Benedict decided to break it “Can I ask why we’re here?”

Edmund nodded “you said you guys were having an important talk and I said you needed to have it in front of adults”

Sophie gulped and looked at him “Mr.Bridgerton you can’t possibly mean you want us to talk as if you’re not here”

He nodded “Yes and also I have been telling you for years to drop that and call me Edmund and you must especially if you are to have my grandchild” her heart dropped at the mention of someone saying it out loud.

“But father” Benedict whined and Edmund gave him a stern look and he sighed looking over at Sophie “If you want to… uhm use your right to choose then you can but I cannot guarentee I’ll look at you the same or that our relationship will survive”

“Benedict Charles Bridgerton!” Violet roared causing Benedict to look at her “What! It’s what we were talking about it is my honest opinion”

“You seriously will not live with me if I choose my own happiness over this” Sophie said glaring at him.

He scoffed “Over what? Having a family with me?”

“Yes well no… I mean over being a teen mom and never accomplishing my goals”

“Oh come on Soph you always talk about us having kids. We’ve been together for so long don’t ruin it now”

“Benedict I have talked about kids for our future after university not before and I would not be ruining our relationship… a kid would ruin that” Sophie said looking away at a nearby book on the shelf

“So you’re saying a kid ruins relationships? That we aren’t strong enough to with stand a kid”

Sophie just nods and Benedict scoffs and shakes his head “you’re unbelievable. If it’ll ruin us now then it’ll ruin us in 5 years. Either way you lose me I guess”

Edmund sighed interrupting “Okay this is what Anthony feared would happen. Sophie dear what do you want to do”

She sniffled and looked down at her feet “I do not know. I don’t want to be like my father and struggle for 10 years all alone and I do want to finish my A-levels and get my degree. I do not wish to be a stay at home mom… no offense violet” she said looking up at her.

Violet smiled and nodded “No offense at all but you must know things are different than with your father. Benedict has access to money so financially you will not suffer and as far as education I am sure there are ways we can make sure you still do what you would like”

Edmund agreed “If anyone’s education is to suffer it is his”

Sophie just sat there baffled “but I want him to go to art school sir like he wants and-“

Benedict cut her off “Sophie. I will take a gap year and work at the firm while you finish your A-levels and then we can go from there”

They started to bicker about childcare and careers and Violet had had enough and cleared her throat getting both of their attentions. “First off we will have to check all of this with your father but I believe it would be best to move you in here once the baby is born. Benedict will take a gap year and work for the firm” she looks at Edmund for confirmation and he nods and then she continues “I will watch the baby during the day while you are at school and work. I already have little hyacinth so one more little one will be no bother. As far as college if you do choose to relocate to London the apartment is all paid off and you can have it once Anthony moves.”

Benedict nodded “I’ll use my trust fund for a sitter so we can both go to classes or you can take courses online. I know it is not ideal but it works… Sophie say something” he said looking at her gently.

She bit her lip tears coming down “If I do this then I am exactly what I did not want to be”

Everyone knew her fear but they simply thought her fear was being a poor teenage mother not a teenage mother.

As they sat in silence Edmund opened up his desk and grabbed the trust fund documents and another paper.

“Edmund dear what are you doing?” Violet asked and he held up his finger as he wrote and configured his numbers.

He handed Sophie the papers “Now it is not my body so you still have every right to choose and I am not trying to tell you not to BUT if your worry is about having to struggle because you had a kid young.Fixed”

She looked down at the document which had her and the baby added onto the trust fund policy and into the will. She smiled “Thank you but you do know my father has money now and I do not want to take your money”

He chuckled “I know however my son got you into this mess and we have generational wealth. Kate and Anthony are about to move into a beautiful home in London that we’ve had for decades. That apartment has been in the family for decades and I still pay for both. You might not want to take my money but that baby is a Bridgerton so they will always get my money”

“Money aside we will be 17 and 18 do you really think it will work? I have never seen it work” which was true but she really only knew that her grandmother and her mother were teen parents and neither of those relationships survived.

Benedict chuckled and Violet smiled “Edmund and I were 16 and 18 when we had Anthony and 18 and 20 with Benedict”

Sophies mouth dropped open “But you guys were married! I thought you had them in your 20s”

Edmund smiled “We got married before Anthony was born. Which you two can do if you’d like but there is no rush”

She smiled and looked at all of them and then Ben “Can we talk alone?” She asked and they both nodded and Ben lead her into his room.

———

As soon as he opened the door Sophie led him to his bed and pushed him down he chuckle “Sophie what are you doing?”

She put both legs on either sides of his pressing herself into his crotch “I have a couple of things” He nodded putting both hands on her hips and she continued “I want to agree to your mothers offer regardless of what my father says and you will tell the art school that you will be taking a gap year but after that the baby and I will follow you to London”

He smiled and aggressively kissed her “So we are having a baby then?” She giggled leaning down to kiss him “We are indeed but I have two more questions” he nodded and she shucked her shirt off. He gulped “Sophie baby what are you doing”

“Well I have two more questions… my first one is do you want to get married and my second one is will you please fuck me it has been over a week and I am obscenely horny”

He grinned at her last question and then he flipped her over so he was on top “Yes I will fuck you but no I do not want to get married yet”

She frowned “Why not?”

He chuckled “I want to ask you properly and not in my bedroom when you’re half naked” she giggled “Okay that is fair” he shucks his shirt off and then pulls her pants down “You were serious about sex right? Cause I can make it quick”

She bit her lip sliding her hand in his pants “I was absolutely serious”

He smirked and quickly had them both naked in the middle of his bed. His lips were all over her neck as she softly moaned in his ear.

“Ben pleaseee” she whined and he chuckled “you really need me huh” she nodded her head quickly agreeing with him.

Despite being a whole foot different in height they fit together perfectly. They both let out a soft moan as he slid in. “I’m gonna like being able to do this without a barrier” he grunted as he started to pick up the pace

_____

Benedict and Sophie walked downstairs and into his father’s office. “Father a word please?” He nodded “Come on in guys”

Ben led Sophie back to the couch “Do I need to go get mother?” Edmund shook his head “No she is putting the littles down for a nap and I will fill her in on your decision.”

“We want to have the baby and take mom up on her offer”

Edmund smiled as Benedict gave his answer “Okay that all works with me however you still need to talk to Richard about some of those things”

Sophie raised her eyebrows “What other thing besides me moving into here”

“It is not just my firm anymore it is your father’s too. Anthony has a job because he intends on being a lawyer but Benedict would be more of an assistant since he is merely doing it for money and to pass time while you finish your A-levels so he has to ask you father if he can work there and he will have to ask before he marries you”

Benedicts face flushed “Father we have decided not to go there yet”

He nodded “The last thing then is to figure out the sleeping arrangements if you guys are to stay here”

Sophie sighed “Would it be easier if we just moved in with my father?”

“You guys very well could but you would have to drive 15 minutes out of your way everyday to drop the baby off to Violet”

They both looked at each other and nodded because he was in fact right. There best bet was to move into the Bridgertons house in Kent even though most rooms were occupied.

Benedict thought for a moment and piped up “We can just turn my room into a nursery and Sophie and I will take Anthonys room.” It was the best idea since they were right next to each other and close to his studio

Edmund nodded “That seems ideal since he will only be here for the holidays anyways and he and Kate can sleep in the guest room. We have plenty of rooms they just all have things in them” he said chuckling finally cutting the tensions they’ve had all night.

Edmund congratulated the two of them and Sophie left to give them two privacy and Ben looked at his dad shakily “So… how do I do it” Edmund smiles “With support and by listening to Sophie and being there for everything”

___

*1 month later*

Anthony was at his apartment playing poker with his friends from College. Simon Bassett, Thomas Dorset, George Crane and his little Brother Phillip.

Phillip groaned as the rest of the group made a joke about him “Where is Benedict. If I had known he wasn’t going to be here I would not have come”

Anthony chuckled “He was supposed to be here but he is talking to Sophies dad”

Simon looked at him “Is he proposing?”

“No Benny wouldn’t not this young” Phillip spoked and then George smirked “Well Marina and I saw him and Sophie walk out of the doctors wit an ultrasound last week”

They all gasped and Thomas looked at Anthony “Is it true? Is there gonna be a little Benedict?” And Anthony smirked and nodded

Kate peaked her head in from the kitchen “Anthony Bridgerton!”

All the guys irrupted in laughter and his eyes went wide “Yes dear?”

“No one is supposed to know. Ben is going to kill you”

He groaned “Technically I did not say anything George did”

Phil groaned “Okay so since Ben isn’t going to be at these nights anymore can you invite Colin then?”

They all protested and Kate chuckled “Ben will still Join because I will make him bring me the baby so Sophie can have her own time alone and since none of you can get a girlfriend besides George I need the company”

George chuckled “You and Marina are going to handle 3 infants while we play poker?”

She nodded “Yes we are and I am sure Sophie will come over sometimes as she does. They just had to talk to her dad to tonight”

——

Ben and Sophie were sitting on the couch in the Den of her father’s house sitting in silence when Richard broke the ice.

“I’m well aware of why you guys asked to talk to me so you might as well just say it”

Benedict’s face flushed “you do?”

“I do check what is billed to my insurance you know… and I happened to read the word ultrasound so”

Sophie started to cry. She was so close to her father and I mean what little girl wouldn’t be when you practically grow up together. She feared he would see her differently and that it would drive them apart.

Richard quickly sat next to her and put her arm around her “Honey I am not upset with you.”

She sniffled and looked up “you’re not?but you told me to never end up in your situation” She said with a scratchy voice

He shook his head “No I’m not and you didn’t. Benedict is not going to leave you and you aren’t going to struggle for your education.” He looked at Benedict “Am I right?” And Benedict nodded “Yes sir”

He smiled, kissed Sophie on the head and sat back in his chair “So have you decided anything? College? Living arrangements? I assume you’ll want violets help while Ben is away at college”

Ben gulped and looked at him “Actually sir there’s another thing I have to talk to you about” he nodded and Ben continued “I plan on taking a gap year to help Sophie finish her A-levels and be with the baby and I was wondering if I could work for you at the firm. My father said it was ideal if you are on board with it. I would be an assistant to you”

Richard chuckled “You get my daughter pregnant and I get to boss you around”

Sophie giggle “Dad! Be nice” and Richard smiled “Of course you can Benedict. Is there anything else you have figured out?”

Sophie nodded “Once the baby is born I’d like to move into the Bridgertons so Ben and I can be together and care for the baby and also so we don’t have to drive 15 minutes out of the way to Violet”

“Ahh so she will be the daycare”

Benedict quickly interfered “She volunteered! My father and I both said she did not have to and that we would figure it out but she insisted.”

Richard nodded “Now school? When Sophie goes off to college what will happen then? Who will watch the baby? Where will you live?”

Sophie looked at Ben who looked like a dear in headlights. Even though he knew all the answers Richard scared him sometimes especially now since he got his daughter pregnant.

“Well if all goes well with Sophie’s test and she gets into a school in or around London then I will accept the Art institutes offer and go there. Sophie will do whatever she wants all in person classes, hybrid or online classes and as far as the baby goes I will be using some of my trust fund money to pay for a sitter when needed plus Ant and Kate live there too and Kate works from home and she has offered”

Richard nods “And I assume the London apartment is where you will live” Ben nods and Richard sighs and sits back for a second just thinking.

“When will you marry?”

“Dad!” Sophie squeaks out

“What! You guys have been together almost 3 years now and everyone expects you to get married baby or no baby” Richard rebutted

“We decided not now” Sophie spatted back

“Well then you and the baby will stay here until you are 18. I’m sorry. Benedict you are more than welcome to come here but sleep in the spare room. You know my thoughts on it”

Benedict quickly bit in “I plan on marrying her. I just want to propose when I have the ring and on my own time. I also would like our son or daughter to be present for the wedding so if you’d prefer they stay here and have me in a guest room I will respect that. Just know i will never not see my child”

Richard sat there for a second just looking off into space and then nodded “Once the engagement ring is on her finger she can move in with you but not before” he said staring at Ben and he nodded.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wing - Seventeen

Chapter Warnings: discussion of abortion (if ur not pro choice idc lmao fuck off!!), pregnancy

Series Masterlist

To your credit, you waited until the sun came up before you pulled yourself out of the catatonic state you found yourself in after the revelation of your predicament. You had never actually taken a shower the night before so you took the time now to stand under the hot water and let the stench of the bar wash off your skin.

Robotically, you dried yourself off with a towel that smelled of Jake and fucking hell, were you crying? Grabbing Bradley’s old UVA shirt, you tugged it over your head and threw on some clean underwear and soft athletic shorts. Turning in the mirror, you lifted the hem of the shirt and studied your stomach. Were you really pregnant? Or was this just some bloating? There wasn’t a bump, but you certainly noticed a small change.

As you shoveled Cheerios into your mouth, you pointedly ignored the waffle maker seated on the counter. This was pathetic. You needed to get a level head and compartmentalize. Make a to-do list. Figure out what the hell you needed to do. Didn’t you need to get your implant removed? Oh god, what if you were already fucking up your baby and you didn’t even know how old they were. You thought back on the numerous times you had slept with Jake and Bradley over the past month. Fuck, you didn’t even know the father.

You needed help. For once, you were going to concede defeat and admit that you didn’t know what the fuck to do. Sofia was out. She had less of an idea about babies than you did. Sarah…you couldn’t bother her right now. Not when she was dealing with grief.

But you did know a kick ass mother who would already be awake thanks to growing up in a military household.

Grabbing your phone, you dashed off a quick text to Penny and then put your bowl in the sink with the intention of cleaning it later. Your phone buzzed with an incoming text and you sighed in relief at her invite to come over.

Which found you fifteen minutes later, standing on her front porch, and blubbering like a baby the second she pushed open her screen door.

“Did you get a call?” she asked, panic tinging her voice.

“No, no.” You knew who she was referencing. “No news from them. I…”

Her eyes darted down, spying the way your hand unconsciously rested on your lower stomach, and she gasped. Penny stepped back, hands grasping your shoulders, and she took you in.

“Oh, honey,” Penny cooed. “Come on, you need to sit down.”

She led you to the back porch that faced the waves and you appreciated the opportunity to take in the morning sun and fresh air. Penny reappeared with a mug of coffee for her and peppermint tea for you and you gratefully accepted the ceramic mug that was shaped like a cat.

“Amelia’s still asleep. Teenagers. She’ll be dead to the world until ten,” Penny chuckled. “How do you feel?”

That wasn’t the question you were expecting, honestly. You were waiting for a “what were you thinking” or “how can you be so stupid” or maybe even a “let’s talk about your severance”. Not this. Not genuine concern.

“Physically or mentally?” you croaked out. The peppermint tea helped soothe the roiling ball of nerves and nausea that was consuming your stomach and you clasped the mug in your hands, embracing the warmth through your skin.

“Let’s start with physically.”

You blew out a heavy breath and then chuckled humorlessly. “Like I’m going to yak any second.”

Penny nodded, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiled at your words. “Yeah, morning sickness is a bitch.”

“And I’m tired all of the time. I thought I was just bloated, but I guess not. Holy shit, Pen, I’m so scared.”

Her hand landed on your knee and she offered you a gentle squeeze as a physical display that you weren’t alone. You gazed out at the pink sky and inhaled deeply before continuing to speak.

“I never thought about having kids. Or, at least, I thought about what I would do. There’s a Planned Parenthood within an hours drive from here. It would be quick, right? And then it would all be over. I don’t have the money to support a kid and I couldn’t possibly work at the bar and breastfeed. I would be a terrible mother and just fuck the kid up. I can’t…”

“Listen, I’m not telling you that you can’t get an abortion. Hell, I would be the one driving you there and back. You always have the choice to make that decision for you and your body. But I want you to know that you would be a damn good mom, honey. I’ve seen the way you interact with Amelia and Sarah has mentioned how much the grandkids love you.” Penny reached out and poked your shoulder. “You are not your mother, kid. Don’t let her scare you from giving a life to some kid who would be so fucking lucky to have you as a mom.”

You sniffled and blinked back more tears. “I don’t even know who the father is or if they’re even coming home.”

Penny reached up to wipe some of your tears away and she smiled sadly. “Hangman or Rooster, right? The two of them can barely take their eyes off you. You have them wrapped around your finger.”

“I didn’t plan on it!” The outcry sounded hilarious coming from your thick, tear-filled voice. “They’re just so…ugh!”

“Naval aviators,” Penny hummed. “I told you they’re trouble.”

You groaned and placed your mug down so you could cover your face with your hands. Penny chuckled and raised her own cup to her lips. Once you lowered your hands and stared back at the ocean did you continue to speak.

“I just want them home.” You hated how small your voice was. “I don’t understand why I feel this way. It’s all too much, too fast.”

“Is it? Or are you just scared of feeling safe?”

You blinked in surprise and stared at her. She merely sipped her coffee and leaned back in her chair. You considered her words for the moment. Jake was supposed to be just a way to get some energy out, but now you found yourself craving his presence as more than just a sex buddy. Bradley had been a one time thing and then his charming smile and laughter kept you wanting to be near him more. But that wasn’t love. Or at least, you figured it wasn’t love in comparison to the cheesy romance films and books you’ve consumed.

But thinking about them and the possibility of them not coming home and then thinking about the possibility that you might be holding a piece of one of them inside of you made you come to a tentative decision for now.

“I should call my doctor and ask if I can make an appointment to get my implant removed,” you finally said. “And then I’m going to wait until they get back. Not because I want them to choose because that’s my choice, but because I want them to know.”

“Okay. Call them and stay for the day. We can go to the beach or go shopping. Whatever you choose, hon, Amelia and I are here for you no matter what.”

The doctor had an opening at one so you spent the morning watching reality shows with Penny until Amelia woke up and then the three of you headed over to the area where your OBGYN was located. Penny and Amelia would stick around and shop at a few local boutiques while you got your implant removed and also did a blood test and urine sample to confirm.

When you walked out of the office an hour later with a stack of papers and pamphlets in hand and a compression bandage wrapped around your bicep, there was no denying it. You were four weeks pregnant.

“Holy shit!” Amelia exclaimed when you held up the paper to her and Penny. Her mom didn’t even bother to correct her and instead took the results from you and studied them. She nodded and jerked her head in the direction of the car.

“Well, time to get you some vitamins and a few other things that will help.”

The Benjamin women offered to let you sleep over that night, but you missed the soft pillows and smell of Jake in his apartment. For a moment, you regretted wearing Bradley’s shirt out today but it also felt a bit like a protective barrier between you and the world. Even without a noticeable bump, you still felt as if everyone in the world could tell just by one look at you.

So you curled up on the couch at Jake’s with all the pamphlets about your options now and plans for the future. The TV played in a low drone as you thumbed through the various piles of information like prenatal vitamins, what you can and can’t eat, and the changes your body would go through. As you read more, you became more and more uncertain. Could you do this? Should you do this?

You glanced up at the TV and a small smile fluttered across your lips at the sight of what was playing on screen. Titanic. You remembered the night on the couch, sandwiched between your boys as this movie played. The love story turned heartbreak stung at your chest and you found yourself reaching for the remote when your phone rang. Diverting your grasp, you saw it was an unknown number but decided to answer, figuring it might be a telemarketer you could fuck with.

“Angel?” the voice on the other line asked. Your breath caught in your lungs and you nearly burst into a sob right then and there.

“Tex?” What if this was just some cruel prank?

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. I’m just calling to let you know that we’re okay.”

You bit your lip and released a shaky breath. “All of you?”

Jake laughed over the line. “Here, let me prove it.” Shuffling came over the line and then a new voice spoke.

“Hey, angel,” Bradley exhaled your nickname as if he was evoking a prayer. A brilliant smile spread across your face and you relaxed against the cushions.

“Hi, bear. You sound tired.”

“Yeah, well, Hangman snores.” An indignant cry sounded from behind Bradley and you laughed. They were fine. They were safe.

“You’re all okay?”

“Every last one of us. We’re coming home, angel. I can’t tell you exactly when but we’ll be back soon.”

You glanced at the scattered pages of information spread around you and then settled your hand on your stomach. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Of course, Angel. We’ll see you soon.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​

[charleslee-valentine]

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fan Works Event Day 5: The Saw is Family

Ship(s): Lefton

Word Count: ~2,000

Warnings: Pregnancy and sexual themes, pregnant ftm trans character, discussion of abortion and miscarriage, implied abusive family dynamics, period typical transphobia, brief misunderstanding about consent.

note: This is the groundwork of an au where Drayton is Sissy’s father who raises her like a brother, rather than being just her brother. Inspired by this post from @fry-house

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

________

Still living with his mother, it was nothing short of humiliating that he fell pregnant.

Leave it to Drayton to get himself knocked up just as soon as he got even a few folks to recognize his chosen name. Even mama was starting to be willing to call him by something other than a throwaway nickname like “girl.”

Not if he comes home with a round belly.

Boude would be the one to know what to do, but he’s also the one waving his dick around gettin’ people pregnant. One time. Let him get that horrible thing near him just once, and he ends up with child.

He’s heard the horror stories. About men like him so desperate to not carry a little one to term they end up bleeding out in their own bathrooms. That could never be his choice. Drayton’s too much of a coward to take his own shots, let alone perform an operation on himself.

He’ll have the baby. It’s just, he doesn’t have to pretend to be thrilled about it.

Can’t un-dead this rabbit, though he’ll certainly try to ignore it as long as he can.

When mama's sister Nancy was pregnant, she was out working on the farm ‘til she couldn’t even stand anymore. He’s got at least three or four more months in him before he’s resting in bed.

Except Nancy never had her baby. Maybe following after her isn’t the best idea.

Cold, sickening dread settles heavy in every bone that makes up Drayton body. Some things you just can’t wish away. Like the damned organs in his body that make it possible for him to even be in this mess, God knows Drayton tried to wish that the lady parts away.

Maybe this is punishment. A cruel fucking trick from the big guy in the sky himself for changing what ought not to be. Too damn bad God gets to sit on clouds all day while there’s mortals in their human body’s going through the evil he placed onto this earth. So fucking what if being a predestined, pretty little baby factory wasn’t the life Drayton wanted.

Damn it all to hell. Burn the bridges of the past self.

As much as he hates to admit it, if he’s going to be this stubborn, he can’t do it alone.

Already he’s suffocating under the weight. Or maybe he needs to loosen the bandages some. It’s the same damn issue either way, and he needs his boy to help fix it.

Drayton usually pays his visits under the guise of business. Trading meat for dairy, wool for fruit. Just in case the folks are home and he shows up without reason knowing damn well they don’t approve.

Though that cover today doesn’t go as gracefully as he’d hoped.

The packages he and mama wrapped up this morning for the job smelled something awful. Usually it don’t bother him at all, being raised in meat and everything, but he was off the path and hurling up his guts before he was even halfway to the neighbors. Heightened sensibilities.

That’s of course, how Lefty found him. Doubled over in the weeds. Sweaty and pale and a disheveled goddamn mess. No worse than the done deed itself, Drayton supposed. At least this time, he wasn’t totally vulnerable.

Still, he’d like to not be gawked at. He swipes the back of his sleeve, pulled over his hand, at his mouth, “You just gon’ stand there, Enright?”

“Right. Sorry.” Lefty goes into action mode quick, taking both of Draytons hands and steadying him, letting him choose how much contact he needs. Drayton settles for leaning into his side, so Lefty throws one arm around him to support him best he can. They walk together, at a pace set by the weaker one between them.

Growing a human ain’t easy work.

It’s silent until Lefty asks, hesitant but too concerned to let the unknown linger, “You.. alright, Dray?”

Before he can stop himself, Drayton scoffs, “You should know..”

Those big blue eyes sparkle with worry and remorse, “Did I do something?”

If he weren’t relying on him to walk, he’d be pushing the oblivious asshole away, “Oh yes sir. Oh-ho yes…”

Lefty gets him into his yard and sits Drayton down on a random crate, taking away the little excuse package. Thankfully nobody else from the Enright family is home at the moment, won’t be for a while either, so they’re free to talk in the open air. Mama’s lazy ass surely won’t come snooping.

Maybe he shouldn’t say that about her; Drayton’s not the only one going to have a baby. Mama’s six months or so along. Just a few ahead of her son. That’s half the reason he’s fucking terrified. Having kids that close together, they might as well be siblings.

Lefty don’t know the reason yet to be afraid as he should be, so he keeps prodding, “Whatever I done.. Let me make it right, lover.”

He’ll blame the sickness for how red his face gets, a fever at fault for the warmth under his skin. Blame that quickly turns into frustration and lashing out at him, “This one, you can’t fix. Can’t just, fuck it away, ‘cause- ‘cause thats the damn problem, you hear!”

Lefty’s face sinks. The dread and the anguish in his features, tells Drayton he gets the wrong implication.

He sounds like he’s choking, “I’m sorry, I-I thought we both..”

Drayton cuts him off. Angry as he is, he doesn’t want that kind of anguish in Boude’s heart.

“You’d be right, Enright. But it’s your damn hair-trigger got us into this mess anyhow.”

Confusion. Revelation. Something else unreadable. Almost.. pleasant.

“Are you telling me you’re-“

“Yessir.”

“Drayton that’s-“

“Don’t tell me. I don’t need your damn opinions. I’m keeping it, damn it.”

Really, he shouldn’t be as confident as he is. Lefty Enright can be trusted, sure, but that don’t change that he’s an open transsexual, and now a pregnant one at that. A poor little farmer's child in the most fragile of situations, acting like he has total control.

His Boude is more than used to that. Lefty smiles gently, “I was going to say it’s great.”

“You’re not the one lugging it with you.” Drayton counters.

He won’t argue that it’s a positive. Or even that it’s amazing really. Every part of him is just so afraid, so not used to this particular struggle on top of all the others that he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. Really, he feels guilty for taking it all out on his boy.

The very same who so heroically offers, “I would if I could. For you.”

Lefty bullies his way onto the crate seat next to Drayton and holds him. Proving even more of his gentle and sweet nature. His face won’t show it, but Drayton knows he’s desperate. Trying to be heard.

His heart wants to give in. So badly. To roll over and show his (swelling) belly and let Lefty have the validation. For the moment, he’ll indulge some, by leaning heavily into his embrace.

Something rises up. Not just bitter bile, but even harsher words. Mostly, dear.

“That don’t make you some saint, you know that? You still got an unwedded man, a queer, pregnant.”

And then he hurls onto the grass. Instant Karma.

Lefty just rubs his back through it. Soothes him. Only argues with him a little bit, “But I’m a lover, right? A partner, who done nothing but care for your little ass. That makes me a father too.”

A father. They both will be.

They’re only young. Not too young to handle it, but life just started for real. Popping kids out is a lifelong investment to no longer goin’ sneaking. Experimenting. Whatever you could call what it is they’ve been doing together.

It’ll be expected that they get married right away. Before this damn bump starts to show itself would be ideal. A nightmare for someone whose legal name on the certificate wouldn’t match the one his favorite people know him by.

Drayton isn’t ready to face those realities. He shakes his head, pulls away from Lefty just a little, “We can worry about that in a few months.”

It’s not outright denial. He wants Lefty involved and that is thankfully obvious. The intricacies really can wait. For the sake of him not losing his mind already.

Lefty agrees, focusing on the present as well, “What do you want from me right now?”

“Take me inside. Please.” Drayton holds his arms up, finally allowing himself to be as weak as he feels.

He’s not expecting to be fully lifted up and carried there, but since he’d just delivered some relatively life changing news, he’ll let that slide as well.

Lefty assures, as strong willed as he is physically tough, “We’ll figure it out, Dray.”

That’s not the part Drayton was afraid of. He never doubted that Lefty would want to do right by the kid. A man who places that much value on his family isn’t going to just kick a child he’d created to the curb.

His partner is maybe another story.

Lefty loves him and he loves Lefty, easy, but it’s not been as simple navigating what that meant when halfway into their almost decade long relationship, Drayton confessed the truth about the disconnect between body and identity. His boy has always been perfect with it, which is what makes it so terrifying. Unlikely as it is, there’s always that whisper that he’s only been pretending to accept it.

Now that Draytons put out, and of course got knocked up on the very first time doing so, there’s no real reason to keep him around. Lefty could pick up the kid on the weekends, settle down with a nice woman. Move the hell on.

They’re so in sync at this point, Boude sort of reads his mind, “I’m not gonna leave you.”

Tears burn in his eyes and ball up his throat with emotion. Drayton just nods a little in acknowledgment of his boy, not saying a word still.

It’s exactly what he was thinking and it still blindsides him. Some wounds, like the ones that come to be when his daddy left years ago, well maybe they never close up.

Lefty can’t take the silence. He tries to prompt, “I lov-“

“Enough.” Drayton stops him there. He knows it already. But talking about it isn’t his thing. Loving somebody is enough without all the sappy bullshit. “I’m not ready to talk.”

Lefty looks sad. Frowns a little bit. But he doesn’t argue. Never does. That sort of makes Drayton feel worse.

But they really will talk. One day down the line. Give it some time and he’ll be ready.

He places a hand on his belly. The baby is too small to be moving yet. Probably about the size of a pebble. There’s time. Mama will have her baby first, almost like a trial run.

Yeah.

They’ll be able to do this.

Shaking, Drayton takes Enright’s hand. He doesn’t know what to do with it, it’s awkward, but he wants to show him, in some minute way, that he gives a shit about him too.

A small smile is all the acknowledgement he gets. It’s enough.

Hopefully it’ll be enough to save them until Drayton is ready to talk more. Best he can do now is stay curled up in Lefty’s arms for the few hours he’s able. Going back home at the end of the day won’t be easy, it never is, but neither will parenthood be, so. Guess it works out anyhow.

[01zfan]

I LOVE YOUR NEW CHURCHBOY!ANTON POST

I love the way you write so much, I think I've said it before but just a little reminder of how great you are 🙈

I was about to ask, does Anton usually wear a condom? I mean, he asked her if she wants a child so...

Also, I love the way you described it, I don't know if maybe you thought about it for this chapter, but I've seen sooo many cases of young church couples having children (and I mean pretty young, most of them 17/18), so my other question was, did you? Do you think they'll have a child still being young? I think their parents would be fuming if they did, but I don't think it would make Anton stop being a believer, omg, would their parents make them get married? Because that's what usually happens, I have so many questions for this story, I love it!!!!

hi anon! thanks for being so invested in understanding my faith lol i wrote it as a one-shot and didn't even think about all those things you mentioned. but now you bring it up you got me thinking hard.

in alot of relationships where religion is involved they don't use protection like their form of contraceptive is praying seriously LMFAO. also i kind of imagined both anton and the reader as kind of naive. the whole reason they started sleeping together in the first place was to get a closer relationship with god and understand what faith/worship is. when you really think about it, it's very childish and naive. what the two are actually doing is having unprotected sex under the guise of worshipping god. i see them as two young people who have no tact when it comes to the real world outside of church. they also kind of developed a type of relationship where they see the other as a god/holy figure so i imagine them not even thinking they could get pregnant, or if they did they wouldn't grasp the severity of the situation.

if she were to get pregnant oh their parents would be pissed. i'm not even sure how the parents would find out, maybe someone catches them doing something in the church and word spreads like wildfire. i imagined the readers parents to kind of mirror anton and the readers relationship. they were young couple in the church, the dad following the path of his family by being a bible thumper while the mom became the "nonbeliever" (i considered her to just be someone who wanted out of the oppressive nature of the church). i imagine they had the reader at a young age and got married because of it, eventually divorcing because of belief systems and just the overwhelming feelings the readers mom had in regards to the church.

i come from a town where that was the case alot of the times. teen marriages to cover up premarital sex in a very religious area. i think that anton's parents would sit down with both of them and give them a few choices. either get married and have the baby or get an abortion and never see eachother again. i can see anton's parents leaning very hard into the first choice. anton has a promising future and he can't ruin it by becoming a teen/young dad. i think it would make anton even more of a believer, thinking he's been blessed to be the father of the child. i can definitely see anton having a moment of defying his parents and getting married to the reader. he'd come to her in the dead of night, sneaking her out of her dad's house (because she's on lockdown after he finds out). anton would talk about doing whatever it takes to support his family, how his parents would eventually come around. the reader would nod her head and say okay, anton would take her back home and start planning out their future together.

but anton would be so heartbroken when the reader would leave town. that was something that also happened where i grew up, girls would get pregnant and then be shipped off to some distant relative. i can see her going back to live with her mom, learning about secular life and why her mother never reached out or fought against the court to get custody of her. anton's parents would be relieved you were gone but anton would become a recluse, completely withdrawing from life. he would definitely come to the readers father begging to know where she is. i can see anton writing letters, saying how much he misses her and how he's going to marry her in the future. i truly think the reader would end up having the child and waiting for anton because of the faith she still has in him.

see this is why i have to write one-shots because i'll end up writing a whole screenplay about my fics if i think too much about them. also a song that reminds me of understanding my faith is jackie and wilson by hozier that song is so them forrealllll

[girl4music]

I hate the term “pro-choice” just as much as I hate the term “pro-life”. Pro-abortion and anti-abortion is what it is so why on Earth don’t they just call it that?

When you’re pro-choice, you’re pro-abortion.

When you’re pro-life, you’re anti-abortion.

The reasons as to why or how are irrelevant.

It doesn’t matter whether you want to be or not.

You are pro if you’re for abortion or anti if you’re against it. Call it what it is, cowards. And stop using words that make it seem like it’s not about abortion.

No woman would ever choose to end her own baby’s life. They have to do it for the sake of their own life.

And the reason why they do it before the baby comes to term is because it’s not a “baby” yet. Not until that fetus takes its first free breath of life is it actually another human life separated from the mother’s life.

If you don’t get that fetus aborted when that mother’s body is unviable to carry it to term, it will eventually die. There is no point letting a fetus be born if it has no quality of life. But the mother still has quality of life…

Only ONLY if they can abort that fetus from their body.

I’m not pro-life by saying any of this and I am not pro-choice either. I am pro-abortion. End of fucking story because they should never consider a pregnant woman’s vaginal tissue more important than their life!

I understand the whole maternal instincts thing. I get it. I 100% get that connection a mother can have with their fetus. But the “mother” and the “child” are the same damn thing while they are physically connected.

You make one incompatible -

they’re BOTH already dead.

Because there is no “both” about them. There is no dual existence. It’s the existence of ONE person.

And that person is the mother. Always!

You don’t consider a baby its own conscious life until it is born. Until it’s able to breathe alone. You just don’t. Regardless of whatever maternal instincts there are. That connection is between YOU and YOU.

Birth is a strange and profound thing. An Event.

What anti-abortion people don’t understand about birth is that birth IS conscious life. That when that event occurs, the existence of one life is now two lives.

But it should never be considered that until that event.

I don’t care if it’s 9 months before that event or 1 second before that event. The “baby” is the mother until it’s able to take its first free breath of life and the umbilical cord is cut. I am more pro-abortion than most people because I think it’s illogical to treat a pregnancy as a second conscious life separated until the event of actual birth happens. Until two happens

That probably makes me seem a very cruel person.

I don’t care. That’s the way I view it, how I believe of it.

I guess… god forbid I ever end up pregnant because unless those “material instincts” take over my sanity, I probably will never even think that way about my own body either and that part of me that is still just me.

Probably, most likely, because I don’t consider the body to be the person at all. It’s the very same argument religionists have really. The soul is the person. Except - that makes me pro-abortion instead.

I could and I will make this argument against any REPUBLICAN or CONSERVATIVE anti-abortion arguments that use “the soul or spirit is the actual conscious person and not the body” excuse.

Why are they so against transgender and GNC individuals if that’s the case then? People that very much believe that their body and appearance of it does not define who they actually are as person. People that experience gender dysphoria and are so unhappy with what they’ve been assigned as at birth.

Birth is never treated or considered as LIFE itself.

But IT IS. In every way you could possibly think of it.

The moment “you” take your own free breath of life independent from any other life - “you” exist as life.

And YOUR choices immediately matter from then on.

Assignation should never be a thing once LIFE occurs. The fact it is - means that the event of life itself is not thought of and honoured as conscious existence itself.

And I personally believe that is absolutely WRONG!

Conscious choices are made for a child by their guardian because they do not have the mental capacity to make those conscious choices for themselves. That’s always the argument for this.

But what about their thoughts and feelings about their own body? I can guarantee you those are fully formed.

But they would have had no distinction of anything before they were born because they were not a “they”.

The moment we understand birth and life as one and the same is the moment we will be a smarter species than we currently are as a collective consciousness.

That still have completely ludicrous arguments over whether pregnant women’s lives are more important than their vaginas or any part of their physical body.

OF COURSE THEY FUCKING ARE!

This whole overturning of Roe v Wade thing is nuts to me. I think it’s the most insane law made to pass ever because the physical body does not define A LIFE!

What it does prove however is that those anti-abortionists or Republicans that claim themselves as “religious” don’t actually believe deep down that the soul or spirit is what defines conscious existence because if they did, they would have nothing against a woman having full control over their own body when it comes to the event of pregnancy because their body is of no importance over their actual life. Their soul.

And while I don’t necessarily think of the soul or spirit the same way Western religious people do, I do think that it very much plays a part in my pro-abortion take because I absolutely do not consider a life a conscious separate life - an actual person - until it is born. Ever.

In fact - I do not believe of it as “life” point blank.

I believe A life exists. That life is already living.

Until you force it into a state that it cannot live.

“Pro-choice” is not what this is. It’s PRO-LIFE.

See how twisted and backwards this all is now? Because if I said I AM pro-life instead of pro-abortion, people on Tumblr would at best, be completely confused by me, and at worst would immediately insult me because they would misunderstand me.

But I digress…

anyone that is truly pro-abortion is truly pro-life.

anyone that is truly anti-abortion is truly pro-choice.

And that choice is never THEIRS to fucking make!

There are no choices in life and death: There is just life and there is death. There is only ever a choice made when it is a prevention of either event from happening.

When there is a prevention of nature taking its course.

If the body is unviable to carry a baby to term, terminating that “baby” is the right thing to do.

It’s the only thing you can do if you want the only life that can actually live to carry on living. And not kill it.

“Pro-choice” people that make this argument against “pro-life” people are who are actually pro-life.

And this is why I hate that they call it “pro-life” vs “pro-choice” and not pro-abortion vs anti-abortion.

Religious people can shut up because God commits the same crime every time ‘He’ decides to kill a fetus. If the event of MISCARRIAGE is considered murder by you, then God is a serial killer. Can’t arrest him though.

It’s all fucking stupid and I’m too intelligent to care.

Throughout all this asinine political arguing, I just feel sorry for those poor suffering women. I really do.

And I’m just glad the UK government has compassion.

[djarinbarnes]

me recordarás - one

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4k

Summary: summer has come to an end. you find yourself thrown into a whirlwind of emotions, difficult choices and more adversity, like you’d never believed possible. someone is there to pull you out of it - but it’s not someone you’d ever imagined.

a/n: god I feel like it’s been so long since I've posted. I'm finally back, somehow, and I'm so excited to share everything with you. I’ve enjoyed coming back into this little universe I've created. I hope you'll like it, and please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! I’m not ready for this...

SERIES MASTERLIST

Read it on ao3 here

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

A missed period was one thing. It happened to many, without there being a reason for it. Though, a missed period after weeks of unprotected sex with a handsome stranger was giving you an uneasy feeling. After waiting a whole week, you decided that a test was the only thing that could ease your mind.

Even though you didn’t want to believe it at first, the surge of emotions that coursed through your body when the two lines stared back at you from the little stick between your fingers had you convinced.

You were pregnant.

And not by a man you had been seeing for a while, a boyfriend, a husband, no, a man you had a summer fling with, a man you had given your all, a damn womanizer, if his reputation was true. A man who fucked whores for information.

You turned right around on the toilet and fell to your knees, just in time for the contents of your stomach to fall into the toilet. Somehow it was sickening to you. You regretted the whole summer just like that – even though it had been the most amazing weeks of your life.

You hid the test rolled up in some toilet paper, truly not wanting your mother to find it and bug you even more about Javi. You had to figure out what you had to do first, and you already knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

You had literally given him your all. Your first kiss. Your virginity. Your very first I love you. You had opened yourself up to him like you hadn’t ever done with anyone before. Told him secrets that he now was the only other person than you who knew. And now it had all culminated into a situation you’d rather not be in.

You felt betrayed. Especially since he was so hard to get into contact with. You knew it would be a challenge because of his work, but you had expected to talk with him more frequently than once a week for five short minutes. You wanted nothing more than to live out your imagination and expectations, to lie in your bed and talk with him for hours on end, into the early hours of the morning.

“You know how men are. They only want one thing, and that’s to sleep with young, unsuspecting girls like you. He’s no good, and I don’t want you seeing him anymore. He’s going to leave you hanging anyways.”

Your mothers’ words kept resonating in your head. While her words had been a surprise those weeks ago, you were now starting to think that maybe she was right, and that it wasn’t just said in spite to hurt you momentarily. Maybe he was going to leave you hanging, now it was more than a stab to your chest, and it was starting to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Maybe you should’ve just forgotten him – had an abortion already, so you wouldn’t be stuck with… the little wonderful secret blossoming inside of you, that probably would be the splitting image of their father. You could somehow feel it – that resemblance your baby would have to the tan, beautiful man you’d fallen in love with.

But you were tired. Tired of being let down every time you tried getting in contact with him – you’d gotten Steve on the phone more than once, actually up to ten times, and he told you the same story every time. Javi is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with? I’ll have him call you back when he’s got the time.

His absence brought only one thing. Loneliness.

A feeling somewhat hard to describe… Because loneliness comes in so many different shapes and sizes. Well… Somehow there’s a certain loneliness to every situation there is, and yet nothing feels more all-consuming than the loneliness surrounding you at that exact moment.

Along with the constant twinge in your gut, you had no idea how to keep your emotions in check. Maybe it was just hormones coursing through your body. You just had a feeling there was something more multiplying the emotions.

Leaving your parents’ house after the summer break and going back to your small studio apartment in Center Court was truly an improvement for you – your mother was constantly getting more nosy and was bugging you about Javi. It certainly wasn’t helping your situation, when all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.

You dreaded going back to uni after the summer break. Mainly because your whole mindset was corrupted by the thought of him and your current situation, and you just knew you had no chance of following the syllabus before it was taken care of. You had to talk to Javi somehow, to tell him about your situation and find out what you were going to do about it.

The best spot in your small apartment was currently your bed – it felt like the safest spot for you to be and scrutinize your situation. It was warm and cozy, and your thick duvet comforted you in ways you couldn’t explain. The comforts of your bed brought along another unforeseen consequence – the nagging of your own thoughts.

The spot on the wall where your eyes had been glued to for the past three days had been glared into so intensely, you were afraid the paint was going to chip off under your hardened gaze. It was tough - you knew you had to eat something, but your appetite was little to none.

So, that’s one thing love does. Makes your head spin and your appetite diminish.

You knew you had to do something. If there was something you had done over the last three days, it was think about what to do with the whole situation before the semester started.

With the baby. Your baby. Javi’s baby.

Your heart ached for someone to actually love, and for someone to love you back the same way. A love that came easily, naturally. Just like your love for Javi. He was easy to love and admire, no matter how hard he tried to deny his feelings and apparently fuck his way through and around every obstacle.

“If you want to know things about them… I figured you have to hang around the same people they do. The same women they do.” Javi’s words still nagged in your mind. You knew he had probably had sex with enough women to last a man a decade, and yet he never seemed fully sated. Could you be enough for him?No, shut up. Stupid mind.

You knew you had to tell him. You had to give him a say in the matter, because you respected him that much. No matter how much or how little you wanted to keep it, you didn’t feel like it was your choice to make on your own. And with every day passing, your love and want grew.

Most of the things you were considering was talking against having the baby, with the first being where the father was located. He was so far from you, both location and expectation wise. Maybe even development wise. You reached out your hand and grabbed the crackers from your nightstand, along with the phone.

You needed to try and call him again. He needed to know, and you had to get through to him somehow.

You dialed one of the numbers he had given you and waited patiently while it rung, while pushing a cracker past your lips. It was the only thing you could manage to keep down. Even though the crackers managed to dry out your entire mouth just by looking at them, they were still the most inviting food you could think of.

You felt your heart pick up the pace as the tones kept going off, until you got to the automated voicemail in Spanish, probably asking you to leave a message after the tone.

It seemed like starting to pick apart the problem was even more overwhelming than you had expected, since you started bawling the minute you hung up.

You had no idea what to feel - all the emotions were overwhelming and settling on one out of them all seemed like an impossible task. You decide on trying to get hold of Javi again. You bite your lip before you hold out the phone in front of you yet again, and dialing the other number Javi gave you.

The fucking Embassy. You felt like a childish stalker as you patiently waited for someone, anyone, to pick up the damn phone. A click sounded, before his voice filled your ears, for the first time in… what felt like a very long time.

“Peña.” It felt like all the air had left your lungs, and the whole speech you had prepared to get into touch with him had disintegrated into thin air the second you had heard his voice. You were instantly thrown back into your fantasies, the recollection of his hands on your skin - your hips, your waist, your neck, his lips against yours.

“¿Quién es?” You could hear the impatience in his tone, and you knew you had to speak up sooner or later, or he would hang up on you. He was an impatient man after all, and he was probably busy.

“Javi,” Your voice was shaky when you finally managed to mutter out his name. “It’s… me.” You breathe in, closing your eyes at the relaxing feeling of the air being let back into your lungs. You could feel your body missing him, the presence of him already. You shut your eyes tightly at the sound of him sucking in a breath on the other end.

You didn’t know what kind of breath it was. Was it an I miss you, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten properly in touch with you since you left Colombia? Or was it an in all just a Fuck, not you again, stop trying to get in touch with me, I’ve got other, more important things to do?

At this point you didn’t even know which of those two you wished for it to be at this point. It would be easier if he just ignored the fact that you even existed. Well, easier for him, that is. This wasn’t ever just going to be easy for you anymore. You were bound to him one way or another. You weren’t ever going to forget this point in your life.

“Hermosa.” And then everything disintegrated yet again. The wall you had been building along with the fake scenarios you had been making up in your head simply vanished in that moment, and the whole slate was wiped clean. You hated he had such power over you, with just one simple word. It was like you could feel his gaze on you. His breath fanning over your face and his hands hovering over your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” You open your eyes at his voice telling you just what you needed to hear. “I’m sorry hermosa. For not getting in touch sooner.” You lift the hand not holding the phone to your heart, somehow trying to keep it from beating out of your chest. “We really need to talk.”

“It’s alright.” It’s barely a whisper, but you know he hears you nonetheless, from the way he starts going on about how much of an asshole he’s been, and how sorry he is, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. You don’t know how long he spends apologizing, if it’s just a few seconds or a minute, but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Your voice is shaky as you hear his flood of words come to a halt. The silence between the two of you in those short seconds is deafening. An awful number of thoughts manages to run through your head in the span of barely any time. You feel like he knows already, yet he isn’t telling you if he does.

“I really don’t wanna do it over the phone.” You lean back against your pillow, looking up into the ceiling as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “I really need to see you, Javi. It’s been almost two months.”

You hear papers being ruffled on the other end of the phone, and you bite your lip as you await his answer. What if he didn’t want to see you again? You really had no idea what you were going to do, no matter what the two of you ended up agreeing on.

“I need to see you. It might be possible for me to get some additional leave within the next week.” You hear him lighting a cigarette on the other end, and you close your eyes, imagining him as the cigarette hangs between his lips while he talks. “I’ll come see you.”

You hear him inhale, followed by a deep exhale, and you find yourself dreaming back to the few times he’d blow the smoke into your mouth ever so sinfully. You let out a silent whimper, your thoughts already taking you further and further away from reality. If you could just daydream for the rest of your life, everything would be so much easier.

“Hermosa?” his voice pulls you out of your trance, and you breathe out a sigh. “I got your postcard.” You smile softly. Your heart was pounding heavily behind your ribcage at the thought of him holding it, looking at it, thinking of you.

“Yeah?” You manage to breathe out, before you let your hand travel down to rest on your stomach. That meant he now knew where you lived. “I’m in Miami now. Back for the start of the semester.”

You hear Javi ruffle some papers again. “I’ll talk to the director today. Let her know what the plan is. Then I’ll call you back, alright? I promise.” You close your eyes as the feeling of tears welling up comes back for another moment. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You wanted to tell him that, but somehow you couldn’t allow yourself to say it.

“Okay Javi.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. You have so many suppressed feelings coming to the surface right at that moment, and your whole body desperately wanting to give in and let out all of the emotions you’ve been containing, but you really didn’t want to flood Javi with it, giving he’s at work. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll see you soon, hermosa. I miss your beautiful face.” You can hear the smile playing on his lips, and you stifle a giggle. You hear his name being called on the other end, and you know you must let the moment pass for now. He’d already given you a lot of his time. “I love you. Talk soon.”

You barely manage to say the words back to him before he’s hung up the phone, and you once again throw your head back against your pillow. Now there was a possibility that you could see Javi the following week. God, you wish it would happen. You needed to see him. You didn’t know what part of you longed for him most – your heart, your mind, your lust, or your conscience.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“Peña.” His voice sounded nothing like she had expected. It was definitely a mature voice - a voice that had been strained from many years of usage. She could also hear the roughness that had probably come from smoking countless cigarettes. No good sign, so far.

“I’m calling on behalf of my daughter.” She stated into the phone, and she heard the man hold his breath on the other end of the line. “I don’t know what you have told her or what the two of you have been doing, but I know one thing. You’re going to leave my daughter alone and pay for what you have caused.” There was no tremble in her voice as she spoke to him.

“Ma’am, I have no idea wha-“ Javi started, but was cut off by the pitched voice of the woman on the other end.

“You have no id- oh my lord. How can you be so selfish? Or was she just an easy target for you to sink your predatory fingers into?” She spat back, feeling the heat of her flash of anger spread from her cheeks and into the skin of her chest.

“My sweet girl has been defiled by a man who won’t even take responsibility for his actions. I don’t know how you sleep at night, knowing a young woman is now on a crash course because you decided you needed some young meat to settle your urges with! I am disgusted beyond words!” The words resonated within his mind, and Javi felt his mouth run dry.

“Ma’am…” his fingers rubbed over his forehead, trying to relieve the tension drawing in his eyebrows. “If this is about this summer with your daughter, I reassure you that every intention I had was good. I would never, and didn’t force anything upon your daughter.” He heard the woman huff on the other line and decided to speak up again before she could start.

“Those weeks I spent with your daughter were some of the best in my life, and believe me when I say I would let nothing bad happen to her. With all due respect ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Javi heard her sputtering again before retracting the phone from his ear - her voice still clear as day as she screamed into the phone. Javi felt his attention slowly dissolving into nothing.

“You son of a! She’s barely entered her twenties and you… oh my. Are you a complete imbecile?” Javi halfway agreed with her, barely listening. His eyes landed on what his pen was scribbling on, and he muttered out a ‘shit’, noticing what he had been doodling on. He held the phone between his head and shoulder, removing the important information he had just ruined… a little.

“She is pregnant! You do know what happens when two people take the Lord’s name in vain before marriage?! You are dishonoring our beliefs!” Javi sighed and, against his good will, barely continued listening with half an ear to your mother’s spew of profanities. “You have sinned! You have taken the innocence of an unsuspecting young woman!”

If Javi hadn’t been listening before, he certainly was trying to recall what your mother had just said. It couldn’t be. Your mother continued talking, and Javi could hear her voice going through many different emotions while she switched between weeping and screaming.

“Ma’am I’m gonna have to call you back…” Javi slowly ended the call before drawing out a cigarette and lighting it with no emotion. Steve looked up at Javi from his paperwork, having listened in on a bit of their conversation, calling out his name.

Javi’s eyes met Steve’s over the table between them, and it felt like a drum was being pounded upon inside his head. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He hoped to God it wasn’t true. It sounded harsh, but it was definitely a situation he didn’t want to find himself in.

Javi didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, he didn’t want to. He reached into the cabinet below the desk and pulled out the bottle he’d been storing in the darkness of the confined space, silently wishing he magically would fit in there as well.

Steve was watching him from behind some paperwork, having gained a little insight into the phone call Javi had just received. Somehow, Steve already knew. You could call it a gut feeling, or just the fact that Steve truly knew his partner. He just hadn’t expected this situation to become a reality.

Steve felt sorry for the man on the opposite side of the desk as he watched him screw off the lid and gulp down some of the brown liquid. Then he followed the tan hand as it reached into the pocket of the jacket slung over the armrest of the chair Javi was seated in, and watched as a cigarette appeared between the long fingers.

He watched in silence as the tip of the cigarette disappeared under the curtain of the brown mustache, eyes flickering to where nimble fingers flipped open a zippo and lighting the bared, encapsulated leaves of the tobacco. Silently, Steve wished for Javi to open up to him. He was tired of the way his colleague always shut himself up like a clam when something happened.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The smoke left Javi’s lips along with the words, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Javi’s eyes darted to Steve’s face, taking in the way the skin around his eyes drew up into crinkles, as he smiled at the older man.

“I have to go see her.” Javi breathed, cigarette smoke twisting its way around his words as he spoke. Steve nodded, understanding with the little context given. It was routine by now. He knew Steve knew him like the back of his hand, no matter how reluctant Javi was to admit it.

“You can stay with us. No rush. I’m sure Con would be delighted to have you staying.” Steve was transferring back to Miami, and the two colleagues were wrapping up some last minute ties in Medellín before Steve’s departure the following week.

Connie had moved back to Florida the year before, leaving with their adopted daughter to ensure their safety, and Steve had decided to stay. It had taken a lot of convincing on Connie’s end, but Steve had finally given in and was moving back to the states after two years in Colombia.

Javi, on the other hand, had no intentions on moving back to the states in the near future. Maybe because all he had was his father and some broken relationships to people from his past, or because, no matter where he was, he never felt like he properly fit in.

He never felt like he could do his job right, meet the right people or even spend his time right. That was, until he met you. In the short period of time you were in Colombia, you managed to give him a feeling of belonging - something very foreign to him.

He loved the few days when he got to go home to you. He loved the feeling of coming home to someone, and having someone who actually admired him, talked with him, laughed with him, and didn’t judge him for his line of work.

Javi had to admit it - dating, as a federal agent, was hard. There was the unforgiving hours of work, there were unforgiving people wanting to hurt him and the people around him, and then there was the way of getting information in the god-forsaken country of Colombia.

Sometimes, Javi wishes he could get lost. Lost, and having no responsibility. Maybe just disappear? It would definitely be easier that way. Especially right now. Javi secretly wished he would just melt into a puddle and be dried off the floor by the cleaning lady.

What the hell was he supposed to do with a baby? Was he supposed to bring you into this life? Was he supposed to bring a baby into this life? He never knew if he was safe, if the people around him were safe. He could already see you kidnapped, beaten up, what was worse. He couldn’t lose you that way.

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and it pulled him out of the spiraling of his own thoughts. He looked up at Steve, who offered him a warm smile. “It’ll be alright, man.” Javi leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

He needed to figure this situation out. And quickly.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[lindstromm]

The debate with the pro-lifers isn't about bodily autonomy or when life begins. This is about living in a theocracy or a secular democracy. The pro-lifers have been educated in how to advance their religious agenda by using secular ideas and secular words.

"Pro-life" is based on rightwing Christian religious beliefs:

The idea that life begins at conception is a Christian belief.

The idea that a fetus has a soul is a Christian belief.

The idea that the "choice" here is the mother's choice to have sex is a Christian belief. (Christianity teaches that women shouldn't have sex at all until they're married and ready to be a mother.)

God created women to be mothers so they should submit to God's will. (Mothers don't have bodily autonomy.)

The injustices and unnecessary deaths and suffering are no big deal because Jesus will fix it all in the next life.

Pro-life arguments are about rightwing Christianity; they just camouflage them in secular words.

"Pro choice" is based on secular and scientific philosophies:

Bodily autonomy is a secular value.

We should reduce suffering (even if someone has done something we might think is morally problematic). That's secular and not Christian - Christians need you to suffer for what they believe are your sins.

Individuals should have equal rights, regardless of gender or race. Equality is a secular value.

It's okay to have sex even if you don't want to be pregnant and raise a child. That's a secular idea.

A pregnancy is an extension of a woman's body, not a separate human being with competing interests. Christians don't believe that, but other religions teach it and it makes sense to secularists as well.

The reply to pro-lifers is:

That's your religious belief and I don't believe that.

I don't want to live in a theocracy. Laws based on religious beliefs are a really bad idea.

It's fine if people have sex but don't want to be pregnant. Your ideas about sex are conservative Christian and I disagree.

If your God is so powerful and merciful, he can deal with aborted fetuses the same way he's dealt with all the miscarriages and stillbirths since the world began. Ask the pro-lifer what happens to the soul of a miscarried fetus.

I don't believe abortion is murder. That's a Christian belief and I disagree. And your belief isn't even scriptural. Exodus 21:22 makes it clear that God doesn't believe abortion is murder. (This is the ONLY verse in the Bible about actually terminating a pregnancy: “If some men are fighting and hurt a pregnant woman so that she loses her child, but she is not injured in any other way, the one who hurt her is to be fined whatever amount the woman's husband demands, subject to the approval of the judges." Yep, that's it. If a man beats a pregnant woman so badly that she miscarries, he pays a fine, maybe, if the husband wants him to. I'm a little astounded at the idea that you can beat a woman so badly that she miscarries but she might not actually get injured in any other way. Seriously? This is inspired by a God who loves mothers and babies??)

Jesus might love kids who are big enough to run to him for a hug, but the only thing Jesus said to pregnant women and newborn babies is "sucks to be you." (Matthew 24:19 is Jesus speaking about his Second Coming, and he says, "How terrible it will be in those days for women who are pregnant and for mothers with little babies!" Not a word telling people to help pregnant women or women with newborns. Just a "oh wow my second coming will be so terrible for you.")

The Bible pretty much ignores pregnant women and newborns (unless a baby prophet is involved; that happened about 8-10 times is all). God is agnostic about abortion. He isn't pro-life and he isn't pro-choice. He barely said a word on the topic. Leave God out of it and let's talk rationally.

[skiller0dani]

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

//

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

//

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

//

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

//

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

//

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

//

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

//

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

[lokifantasies]

Her Decision PART 2

Summary: Jade and Loki have lunch, and Jade realizes she knows what she needs to do.

A/N: Should I post part 3 tonight, or do you guys wanna wait? lol

Character(s): Loki, Jade, & Reader

Read the Mischievous Life series here!

Follow Jade, Loki, and Reader!

Taglist! (click here to join a taglist!)

Strikethrough means I can’t tag you for some reason.

@1marvelnerd3000 @agentkinghorn @angeldarkness95 @donttouchmylaevateinn @emerald-alone @eyesbluelikethetitanic @fa-me @geeky-politics-46 @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @jeongadelarinia @lokistoriesblog @lougy @melianisnothere @mm2305 @mortallythoughtfulgurl @nms224 @prettysbliss @shraddhadeveshvikram @xoxoloverb

Jade realized that she was kidding herself when she thought that going to school would help her get her mind off things.

All it did was cause her more anxiety – spending the day constantly trying to get her parents to tell her what to do – talking with friends about what they feel she should do.

If she had a penny for every time she heard the words, "it's your decision," then she'd be able to buy a car. Luckily, Loki has decided that he's going to make coming up and eating lunch with Jade at school a father-daughter bonding thing. To Jade's joy, he's in the cafeteria waiting for her when she and some friends walk inside.

"Dad," Jade calls out to the god, who is sitting at an isolated table and scrolling on his phone. Loki smiles when his sixteen-year-old approaches him. He can't help but to glance at her stomach – hating what his daughter is going through.

"Hey my love," Loki greets Jade lovingly – standing up to take her backpack off for her like it's a coat. "How're you feeling?" Loki conjures a box of chicken nuggets for Jade – knowing that they're her favorite thing to eat.

Jade shrugs – dipping a nugget into the BBQ sauce. "I'm trying not to feel."

"Sweetheart, we'll get through this," Loki promises. "Our family – you – are stronger than you could ever imagine...strength that I admire wholeheartedly."

Jade flashes a short smile at her dad. "I don't know," she sighs. "I can either deal with it and be a sixteen-year-old single mom, have an abortion, or put the baby up for adoption."

At the sound of the last option, Loki glances down at the table – remember how he felt when he first learned that he was adopted. However, he knows that he can't let his personal thoughts and feelings affect Jade's decision. If she made a decision based off his thoughts and regretted it, he knows she'd never forgive him. "Dad?"

"Huh?" Loki says – realizing that he zoned out for a moment.

"I asked you what do you think the best route would be?" Jade restates her question.

Loki sighs and reaches out for Jade's hand – holding it gently on the table.

"It's not my decision," Loki reminds her. Tears immediately spring to Jade's blue eyes. "This is your body, your baby, your choice. Your mother, friends, and myself can only give you our opinions...but we can't tell you what to do with yourself. You know yourself better than anyone."

Jade wipes a tear away from her eye with her hand that's holding a half-eaten chicken nugget. "I can't have a kid, dad," she mutters. "I don't think I could go through with an abortion, and the foster care system in this country is...ridiculous, to say the least. I'd hate myself if my baby was without a home."

"Yeah," Loki nods quietly.

"Daddy, can I ask you something?" Jade questions.

"Absolutely...anything, my love."

"How do you feel about being adopted?" the teen asks her father. "I mean...I know that your situation is unique and different, but..."

"It feels normal to me," Loki answers before she can finish speaking. "It only feels normal to me because I don't know what anything else would feel like. I grew up as Odin's son and Thor's brother. I can't even think about how different it would've been being raised by Laufey." Jade nods silently as Loki's words repeat in her head. "Sweetheart, this isn't something you have to decide today, alright? You have time."

"I know," Jade acknowledges, "but if I put too much thought into it, then I'll start second guessing and overthinking, and then I'll make the wrong choice because I'm afraid that my first decision was wrong, but in reality my first deci -,"

"Relax, my love," Loki chuckles – cutting off Jade's rambling and panicked words.

"I need to smoke," she groans. "I can't deal with this – this constant anxiety – all this worrying and questioning. But of course, since I'm growing a fucking person, I can't do that."

Loki nods – figuring out a way to voice his next thought. "Well, as I said, you know yourself better than anyone, so if you already know that your first decision you made is the right one for you, then no one can stop it."

Jade's father's words take what feels like a ton of weight off her shoulders as they go through her mind. "Then I think I know what I'm gonna do."

[bumbleklee]

Lone Star (diluc x f!reader) - SFW

before reading: this is based on the song lone star by the front bottoms and deals with pregnancy, abortion and general angst (there’s a lot of crying). please read with discretion and remember you always have a choice. story is under cut for length and the topics discussed 

You were going to tell Diluc. As soon as he woke up, you were going to tell him.

But Diluc woke up in such a sweet mood, stretching his arm out around your waist and pulling you back underneath the blankets. He whispered how much he loved you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

And then when you both had gotten out of bed, Diluc was actually excited about going to the bar that night to work. Absentmindedly talking about how Kaeya was away for the weekend on a commission. His hands never seemed to leave you, leaving loving touches on your shoulders or casually holding your hand.

You decided you were going to tell him the next day. Then Jean asked him to stop by the Knights Headquarters and when he returned back to your house, he was scowling. The next day, you swore.

But the next day turned into the next day turned into the next week. You were jittery and found it difficult to be around Diluc for more than five minutes without spilling your secret (except none of those times were the right time).

And as if the Gods had their own plan, you come home one evening to find Diluc sitting at the kitchen table. He was staring down at his lap and when you neared him, you saw the small pregnancy detector between his hands. You knew you should have hid it better.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Goodbye future, once so bright, meet my pregnant girlfriend Watch my bank account run dry, 437 dollars spent To put things back to the way they used to be

When you found out you were pregnant, you were mortified. You and Diluc had only been together for two years and you weren’t even married yet. Plus, you were both young - way too young to become parents.

You liked children. You really did. But being a mother wasn’t something in your line of sight, at least not anytime soon. Hell, you and Diluc never even had a serious talk about having children together one day and you weren’t even sure if he wanted any ever.

But you promised to yourself you wouldn’t let his opinions sway yours. You just needed to tell Diluc, ask him for some mora, and fix everything.

You contemplated not telling Diluc at all. You could just go ahead with the procedure alone, wipe your hands clean, and pretend like nothing happened. But Jean talked you out of this almost immediately.

“He needs to know,” She told you sternly, “He deserves to know before you do anything.”

Part of you regretted telling Jean in the first place. She was supportive of whatever decision you wanted to choose but her advice still made your stomach churn. But she was right and deep down you knew that. Plus, abortions weren’t preformed in Mondstadt and you would have to take a weekend trip to Fontaine and the carriage ride alone would wipe your bank account clean.

It wasn’t possible not to tell Diluc - so why was it so hard?

You were glad Diluc found the test on his own because you weren’t sure when you were ever going to tell him.

“It’s...I was planning to tell you…” You start, your words catching in your throat. Diluc looked up at you sharply, his eyes narrow and filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize.

“When?” He demanded, “Because you hiding this in the sole of your winter boot doesn’t seem like you were planning to tell me anytime soon.”

You placed both hands on your forehead, your gaze falling to the floor. Your chest felt heavy and fluttery at the same time, “I was...I don’t think I…” You couldn’t find the right words. Your stuttering filled with cheeks with heat and you felt sweat bead on your forehead. You weren’t ready for this kind of decision.

“What was your plan?” Diluc asked, his tone softer presumably at your anxious state. Neither of you dared to move but your eyes finally started to fill with tears. “Please, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Hold on!” You snapped, your hands quickly scrubbing over your eyes. You refused to look at Diluc, too ashamed that you couldn’t even answer his questions. Diluc sighed and you heard the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor and two sturdy arms wrapped around your quivering form. When your breathing finally regulated, Diluc led you to the table and you two sat across from each other - the test in the middle.

You took a deep breath and when Diluc delicately took your hand, you started speaking.

“It’s been a few weeks,” You said, “I kept getting sick as soon as I’d get to the Headquarters in the morning and Jean took me to the cathedral just to see if I had a stomach bug and I guess based on my symptoms, they suggested I try a detector. And I wasn’t expecting it to be positive, Diluc, I swear. I was ready for it to be a fluke and Jean and I were going to have a laugh but it was positive and...I’m pregnant.”

Diluc gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I know what I want to do but I needed to tell you about it first.”

“You...want to get rid of it, right?”

You had been set on an abortion since you first saw the positive test but hearing Diluc mumble those words caused your walls to break again. Your head hung down, tears falling down your face like a waterfall. Diluc reached over to brush your cheeks and you instinctively leaned into his touch, “I’m awful.”

“No you aren’t,” Diluc said softly. His voice was timid and you felt so, so guilty. “This is your decision and no matter what you want to do, I’m going to support you.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” You sobbed, “I’m going to get an abortion for our child! Why aren’t you angry with me?”

“I’m just upset you didn’t tell me sooner,” Diluc said, “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your lips trembled and for the third time that hour, you burst into tears. Diluc stood up from his chair again and shifted your body so you were sitting on his lap. You rested your forehead on his shoulder and Diluc’s warm hands wrapped around you.

“Just rest,” He told you and you felt your eyes growing tired, “I love you.”

“I love you,” You mumbled, “And I’m sorry.”

When you woke up, you were nestled in your bed and Diluc was beside you packing a suitcase. For a moment, you just watched him fold your shirts gently and place them inside the bag.

He noticed your open eyes and leaned down to brush a piece of hair back, “We’re leaving at noon.”

Still, I woulda spent so much more But 437 dollars somehow shakes all responsibility But it's not easy

The carriage ride was silent. You mostly stared out the window but occasionally glanced at Diluc. He seemed remarkably calm, holding your hand and brushing his thumb over your forefingers, but you could tell he was just as nervous as you were.

“Should we talk about it?” You asked, your voice hardly a whisper. There was no one in the carriage with you, the coachman outside of earshot, but your words still felt too secretive. The only person who knew what you two were doing was Jean - everyone else assumed Diluc had a business inquiry in Fontaine.

Diluc nodded.

“I wish it didn’t come to this,” You said, “We should have been more careful.”

“Yeah.”

You chewed on your lip, returning to look out the window, “I think...one day I want kids.”

“Me too.”

“But we’re too young,” You spoke for both of you now, “I mean, I’m so busy with the Knights and the wine industry is doing so well. And I want to travel Teyvat! We can’t do that with kids.” Diluc silently agrees with you.

The procedure is painless, quick and very expensive. Your eyes widen at the number that comes out of the nurse’s mouth but Diluc hands over a bag of mora with no emotion, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and walking away from the clinic.

Just like that, everything was fixed. You were no longer pregnant and Diluc was no longer going to be a father. So why were you two filled with an overwhelming amount of guilt?

You find a bench to sit on in front of a river that runs through the city and for a while, it’s quiet again. The past twenty-four hours had been filled with bursts of unbearable silence but what was there to talk about? You lean over your knees and stare at your reflection in the water, wondering if you still recognized the woman you saw.

“I’ll pay you back,” You tell Diluc suddenly.

Diluc doesn’t say anything until you sit back up, “Y/N, I would have spent seven times that amount for you - I would have sold the winery for you.”

His sweet words bring you back to reality and you hide your face in his chest. You knew what you did was the right decision, the right choice. If you chose to bring a baby into this world now, you would be constantly reminded that you didn’t want it. You don’t for a second think you would have neglected or not loved said child, but you couldn’t possibly give it your whole heart like you could if you both just waited a few more years.

You had to keep reminding yourself that you did what you needed to do. It was hard, but it was right.

She looks me dead in the eyes and says "hey Brian If you still believe in the Lord above Get on your hands and knees and pray for us

That night in your hotel room, you and Diluc pray to Barbartos. Neither of you were particularly religious, especially after learning Venti’s secret, but you thought maybe the archon would hear your pleas and do his best as your friend.

You and Diluc held your visions clasped between your hands and knelt below the window, gazing up at the starry sky. Your eyes were shut tightly.

“Lord Barbatos, please grant us ease to get through this hard time,” You whispered, “We really need it.”

“Please give Y/N good health and help us fulfil our dreams,” Diluc said. When he heard soft sniffles coming from you, Diluc added, “I’ll give you a free bottle of wine.” He nudged your side and your eyes opened, causing a tiny smile to appear on your face and you to chuckle sadly through your tears.

The past few months were pretty rough A couple times, wished we both were dead I never cried like that before I thought my eyes would pop out of my head Not just preparing for nightmares

Returning to Mondstadt was difficult. You surprised Jean in her office and, once again, broke down in her arms. She told you it was okay to stay home for a while, that she and Kaeya would tend to your commissions.

With no work to attend to, you fell into a deep depression. The nurses in Fontaine said this may happen as an emotional side-effect and they were right. You rarely got out of bed except to use the bathroom and Diluc had to beg you to eat something everyday. Diluc was having a tough time too but knew he needed to be strong for you. If the both of you fell into this ditch, how were you going to get out?

You didn’t understand your emotions right now. You had fixed the problem, shaken all responsibility from your back, yet you were crumbling like a piece of paper. You were exhausted all the time, not being able to sleep due to consistent nightmares, and you didn’t have the energy to do anything.

One night, Diluc left to work at the bar and when he returned, you were still awake. For once, you had gotten out of bed and moved to the couch. Of course, you were curled up lifelessly but it was a start.

You turned to look at the front door as it opened and inside stepped a very upset-looking Diluc. Your eyes stung at the look on his face and he strided over to you quickly, nearly collapsing on top of you on the couch. His arms hugged your waist and his head found its way to the crook of your neck.

For the first time, you saw Diluc completely break. Tears rolled down his cheeks in fat tears and choked sobs echoed through the walls of your home. His grasp on you was shaky and tight and you could only hold onto him.

“I’m sorry,” He sobbed, the words hardly understandable. He kept repeating the apology.

“We need to stop apologizing to each other,” You mumbled out, holding back your own cries. Your heart was breaking at the sight of Diluc and you pressed your hands to either side of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. His eyes were already bloodshot and you wondered if he was crying on the way home from the bar.

Diluc only nodded against your skin. You let him cry, just being there for him like he was for you so many times before was enough. You would be okay in time.