#i need him to fuck me out of wedlock and apologize for not being able to wait 😐

[lincolnmkicks]

more hero is larks daughter ramblings and predictions under the cut spoilers for s2 of dndads!!!! also this was like. at 1am. so any typos or anything are just bc i was soup brained sorry ;;

people forgetting hero exists drive me crazy. i cannot see a way that norm is actually larks son unless hero was born out of wedlock (bc i think they mention explicitly lark slept with rebecca the night before sparrow married her???? or smth??? let me go back. OKAY WENT BACK AND HOLY SHIT apparently lark just only now told sparrow abt fucking rebecca and larks like “oh i knew but it was too awkward to talk about so i let it slide :)” and lark explicitly states he fucked rebecca while shr was engaged to sparrow) which. idk i feel like. sparrow is so desperate for normality would he really not jsut. marry rebecca the second he realizes shes pregnant with hero?

so to me. i think narratively my prediction. if we go with the hero is larks kid theory. and not scary is larks kid. is that. so hero was an unexpected baby. hero wasnt intentional. maybe she was born on a day that made it plausible she was either of their kid. sparrow, never quite sure and never able to BE sure bc he and lark r twins obv. named hero. well hero incthe most petty move EVER. a constant reminder of what lark Did. not just sleeping with his wife but a reminder of the unsung hero needed to release the doodler. hero is not just a reminder of larks guilt snd mistakes. shes a reminder of *henry*. and maybe that inadvertently makes sparrow distant from her as well. i dont know which way sparrows relationship with henry went. part of me wonders if maybe lark was closer wjth mercedes and sparrow was closer with henry. who knows. im ramblings and off topic but anyway.

maybe sparrows distant with hero bdcause shes not his daughter. becaude he *knows*, potentially, she might Not be his. and sparrow doesn’t want that because thats not *normal* its not *conventional*. this also explains him marrying centrist rebecca (does not explain what wa sin her pussy to make lark wanna hit it too if im correct abt him being closer to mercedes. maybe im off and he was closer to autumn. idk). maybe hero already felt eldest daughter syndrome, compounded by the fact that her birth dad feels shame and guilt not just bc of her name and the circumstances of her brith but also bc he just doesnt feel worthy of bejng a father. arms length and all that.

and so. NORMAL. normal is guaranteed sparrows son now. in this version of events. and its perfect now its fine because normal is his normal is his son and not larks. sparrow is happy. forget about hero she doesnt count because shes mayeb not his. forget her. and then normal isnt. normal. hes weird. he wears a mascot suit all tbe time. he doesnt realize people laugh at him not with him. and thats not okay. thats wrong. thats Out of the Ordinary that interrupts the daily flow and its JJST BARRY AGAIN. its JUST barry but maybe even WORSE. because barry believed his son superior. sparrow thinks his son is lesser.

sparrow likes his son fine but hes not proud of him. he doesnt wanna show him off. LARK. though. uncle lark is Everytbing. theres no shame attached to normal liek there js to hero. hero’s his brith child and hed mess it up but hey. he cant do worse to normal than sparrow has. and maybe lark sees a bit of himself in norm. sees a kid who wasnt accepted by his father. who wasnt as Respected because sparrow was a love wolf and lark wasnt. lark looks at normal and can see him get crushed under a giant pyramid. lark looks at normal and worries hed be the next lord of chaos.

so lark. co parents. he cares for norm. he pretends fo be his brother to apologize for the bullshit he said. he does—in his fucked up, traumatized way—his best to prepare norm for things he might experience. theres no shame attached to norm like there is hero because hero’s birth almost ruined sparrow. ruined his perfect life with hsi perfect wife. so lark can step up when sparrow. cant. or doesnt. lark supports norm. maybe to make up for whst he cant do for hid actual daughter.

also im biased but i like lark having a daughter a lot. in a show where everyone has sons ofc the one who has a daughter (a BIRTH daughter, too, so still a first even if i love terry and scary) is LARK. fhats prob why i prefer lark ebing hero or scarys dad to norms. anyways.

where does that leave hero? who doesnt have sparrows adoration and attention because she might not be his. who doesnt have larks because she MIGHT be.

well…………………. maybe scary breaks free from willy’s manipulation. maybe willy needs somebody to help him pull the strings from his side. maybe willy can step up not for taylor, but for somebody else. somebody who has TWO male adults in her life who push her aside for her baby brother. and willy really needs daddy magic. so maybe. maybe just maybe.

willy finds an unsung hero in a different way.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads spoilers #lark oak #sparrow oak #normal oak #hero oak

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

SO AFTER THAT BEAUTIFUL DRABBLE I AM NOW THINKKING ABOUT CLARK CASUALLY CONGRATULATING BRUCE ON THE BABY AND BRUCE INTERNALLY DYING?? I’m literally so in love with this story you are amazing and so so talented thank you so much❤️❤️❤️❤️

Let's be real. Bruce has been in love with that child since he found out there was one. That's his kid and fuck what anyone else says. Those are his girls.

"Clark," Bruce said, offering a smile and a handshake.

"Hey!" he said cheerfully, "Congrats I heard it's a girl. I bet you're-"

Bruce coughed and glanced to where he could hear you, bickering cheerfully with Dick about the proper way to conjugate a verb in Latin. "Clark," he said, face heating, "The baby isn't mine." He wished she was. He already loved her- almost as much as he loved you. But he knew better than to let you hear him telling people he was her father. You'd been adamant about it.

"But-"

"I'll explain later," he said quietly, turning to see Dick race through the door to launch himself at Clark.

"You better," Clark hissed before turning to catch Dick and shake your hand. "I'm surprised you said you'd give me an interview," he said grinning, "I'm honored."

"Well," you huff a laugh and let Bruce sit you in the chair he'd pulled out, "It's not a tabloid or a talk show- and you just want to know about my charities, not my kid's paternity."

"I've heard it's a girl," he said, grinning, taking his seat, "You must be thrilled."

"It is nice to be able to narrow down my list of names- and decide what to do with my nursery," you allow, smiling a little.

Bruce glares and Clark, positioning himself just behind your chair and folds his arms. You hadn't wanted to do this- not really. And you were notoriously cagey about your personal life around reporters- in another context, you'd probably offer to show him paint colors- but not today. Clark fought an eye roll with difficulty. As if he'd ever publish any of that. He'd rather never write another article before he'd do some weird tabloid expose about a socialite's out-of-wedlock pregnancy. "Ma wants to know your colors when you figure them out," he said dimpling, "She wants to make you a blanket for her."

"I'll call her," you answer, relaxing just slightly. You hate interviews. Your guardian, a half-brother who was more concerned with spending his inheritance than your well-being, had pushed you into doing them after your parents died. Trotting you out to drive up stock prices- and most of them had been focused on the scandals- things no one should be asked about. But seeing a poised, demure little girl, looking like a life-sized doll- the media and the public had gone wild. Some people had gone so far as to call you a sociopath.

"She'd like that," Clark reassures you, smiling his thanks when your assistant brings him a coffee.

Bruce squeezes your shoulder gently. He can feel you trembling and in his minds eye, he can see you. Your feet dangling off a chair in a dress you thought was for a tea party. And he can see the overbright doe eyes, frantically searching for someone. Anyone. That was going to make it stop. "You don't have to do this," he said softly. "I can get Clark the information he needs."

"I'm sorry," you murmur, getting to your feet, walking quickly out of the room, quietly, but firmly shutting the door.

Clark winced, "I should apologize-"

"Give her a few minutes," Bruce said, exhaling slowly. "She'll pull it together."

"It's fine I can-"

"Just give her a minute," Bruce said, smiling ruefully. "It's been- she can do it, we just might have to be a little less formal about it. We'll take a walk, if you want to record it."

Clark nodded, "I thought her heart was gonna explode. I don't want-"

"It'll be fine," Bruce said, "Just try and avoid her parents." He shivered reflexively, the memory of that interview making his stomach turn.

"Do we have enough time for you to explain what the hell is going on with you two?" Clark said, frowning, folding his arms. "Ma said she's just not putting a name on the birth certificate."

"Clark-"

"Just marry her! God how can two people be so smart and so stupid?" he groaned.

"I've been asking myself that a lot lately," Alfred drawled, glancing towards the closed kitchen door. "I see this is going well... I'll just go see if-"

"Please?" Bruce said, a note of worry in his voice.

"Yeah. That's not your girl," Clark huffed, folding his arms. "Totally get it now."

___________

You look up from where you're curled on a kitchen chair and smile a little, "Do you still have a sixth sense for when something stupid is happening or-"

"I raised Master Bruce," he chuckled, pulling a bowl of cold watermelon out of the fridge and putting some on a plate. "Are we hiding or regrouping?"

"Strategic Retreat," you agree, "I thought I was going to be sick."

"I see," he hummed, setting the plate on the table and putting a fork next to it, "I still say you should do a tabloid interview and actually vomit on someone- it would probably put an end to it rather nicely."

"Or I'd be headed for rehab and in dire straits as Bruce frantically tries to save my poor shattered soul."

He cringed, "Fair point- you lead an interesting life when none of us are looking, Miss Y/N."

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #bff!reader #doctorsteeb #ask answered #minors dni

[straylightdream]

SOMEBODY’S BABY | JJK

part nine: emotional baggage

featuring: Jeon jungkook x reader

social media au

It’s just sex they say over and over again. He’s terrible at relationships and she doesn’t know what she wants.

warnings: angst and cussing

previous > next

masterlist

For some reason Namjoon invited a ton of people to his place. You weren’t even exactly sure why you agreed to go to this. Jimin gripped your hand as you made your way through the crowd of unfamiliar people. You reached the kitchen and was relieved to see there were only a few people in there.

“You okay?” Jimin asks, still holding your hand.

You nod your head.

You stay in the kitchen with him for a while. Jimin is all too aware that you don’t like being in this crowded house. He holds your hand the whole time knowing that comforts you. You’re surprised when you see Jin walking into the kitchen. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he gives you a smile.

“Should I leave you alone to talk?” Jimin asks.

“I guess, but don’t go far,” you say, releasing his hand.

“Okay I’ll be in the other room with Hobi.”

Jin walks towards you and leans against the counter next to you. Knitting your eyebrows together you stare at him. You weren’t even sure what you should say to him. You hadn’t ever responded to his last text about giving everything another try.

“I’m surprised you’re here, I thought you hated parties,” he says, breaking the silence that had formed between you.

“I still don’t like them,” you say.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why I come to these. Maybe it’s because it’s the only time all the boys are actually together so I can see them.” The older you get the harder it is for everyone to make time to hang out together.

“I’ve seen and talked to all the guys other than Jungkook, is he here?” he asked.

Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t if he’s at the party. Things between you have changed so much and you honestly hate it. You miss having him as one of your best friends. A sad expression plays across your face as you look down at your feet.

“Did I accidentally say something wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“JK and I are in a weird place at the moment,” you sigh.

“Is there still something going on between you two?”

“I don’t know to be honest,” you want to cry just thinking about the fact that you might have fucked up your friendship with Jungkook.

You look up when you hear someone clear their throat. You’re caught off guard at the sight of Jungkook standing in the kitchen. His eyes bounce between you and Jin, and you automatically know he thinks something is going on.

“Kook,” you say softly stepping away from Jin.

“I was just stopping by to say hi,” he says as he turns on his heels.

“I need to talk to him. Please give me some time Jin,” you say before taking off through the crowded house after Jungkook. You follow him into the front yard where he finally stops. He tosses his head back and lets out a groan. He doesn’t know you’re behind him.

“Jungkook,” you say softly.

He turns around to look at you and his face is unreadable. He pushes his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes.

“Nothing was happening,” you step closer to him.

“YN it doesn’t matter if it was. I can’t have a problem with it,” you can tell by his tone he’s upset. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. His face reads with a look of defeat.

“I feel like I owe you the whole story at this point. Like everything that happened between Jin and I,” you aren’t ready to talk about this, but you need to.

“YN I’m not forcing you to tell me, I’m trying my hardest to make this whole thing easy on you. It’s fucking hard keeping my distance from you,” he sighs.

“Did you want to go back to your place and I can tell you about what happened with Jin?”

He nods silently.

“Let me tell Jimin I’m leaving.”

“Okay I’ll wait out here while you go tell Jimin.”

Rushing inside the crowded house you find Jimin talking to Tae, and you tell both of them you and Jungkook are going to leave to talk things out. Jimin tells you to call him if you need him.

Walking back outside you find Jungkook standing in the same place you left him. You follow him down the street to where he parked his car. He turns on soft music after he starts the car before he drives you back to his apartment. Neither of you say a single word the whole way there. The whole drive to his place you want nothing more then to reach out and hold his hand. Looking out the window you try to distract yourself watching the lights as you pass by. As soon as you arrive at his place you go straight to his bedroom with him.

You sit down on his bed and watch as he pulls out his desk chair. He sits across from you and gives you a sad smile.

“I’m sorry I’m acting so weird right now,” you sigh.

“I think we’re both acting weird right now.”

“Okay the whole story with Jin,” you pause taking a deep breath. “After Sam broke my heart after high school I never planned on getting involved with anyone quickly. I’ve known Jin since I was a kid, and I had a crush on him most of my childhood. I fell in love with him while he was still dating Yun. While he was with her when he realized he had feelings for me,” you sigh this story isn’t going to get any easier from here on out.

“We got involved in this weird secret relationship when I was twenty. I’m not proud that he left Yun for me. He never physically cheated on her but emotionally he did. He told me often he wanted to be with me while he was still with her. After awhile he finally left her for me and we were together but nobody other than Jimin knew. I was madly in love with him, but he didn’t feel as strongly for me. I know he cared about me, but he never told me he loved me,” tears start to brim your eyes as you fought back tears. You didn’t want to cry over this situation anymore.

“You don’t have to tell me anymore,” he reached out resting his hands on your thigh.

“I owe you this. The whole time we were together I told myself that it didn’t matter that he didn’t say he loved me, because I knew how much I meant to him. Things were going okay until I missed my period. We had been careless a handful of times and I thought for sure I was going to be a mom. I told Jin and he panicked. He told me his whole life is ahead of him with his parents' company that he couldn’t throw it away for me. His parents would cut him off completely if he had a child out of wedlock,” the tears slowly started sliding down your cheek. You knew you shouldn’t be crying over this anymore.

“We broke up that night. Three days later I got my period, but it didn’t matter. I realized then that I didn’t fit into Jin’s life. He apologized a million times for what happened, and begged me to take him back. How badly I wanted him back I knew I couldn’t. I don’t blame him now though for what happened. I'm trying to move, but he broke my heart.”

Tears slowly slide down your cheek as you look at Jungkook who looks like he is at a complete loss of what to say to you. The only person who knew the whole story of what had happened was Jimin. Namjoon knew you had been together but he didn’t know why it ended, and he only knew that because Jin had told him.

Reaching out he rested his hand on your cheek and brushed his thumb across your cheek brushing away the tears.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m fine now, it’s just there is a part of me that’s always going to care for him. He’s also older now and has control of his own life so part of me just wanted to hear him out. It’s also nice to know that he still cares about me.”

His hand is still on your cheek as he stares into your sad eyes. You wished more than anything he would lean forward and kiss you, but he knew he shouldn’t do that.

“We were all friends with Jin a couple years after that. How did you manage to hang around him?” he asked, needing to know.

“I closed myself off emotionally. I stopped dating all together. I had no desire to have any connection with anyone. I think I was only able to handle it because he seemed just as upset as me. I didn’t have to watch him date or anything. After we broke up he never had another girlfriend while he lived here.”

“I knew you guys had a form of a past but I didn’t know all this,” he says mentally kicking himself. He’s pissed at himself for ever questioning you about Jin.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to your forehead for a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with my emotional baggage,” you sigh.

“I’m glad you felt like you could trust me with this information,” he pauses taking a moment. “YN I need to ask you something.”

Pulling away you look at him, “okay.”

“Are you gonna give him another chance?” He was terrified you were going to say yes. He couldn’t watch you get your heartbroken again.

You shrug, “I don’t know, probably not. I care for him and there is something still there, but I’m still hurt.”

“Okay I don’t want you to get hurt again, if you do I’ll be there for you no matter what,” he says swallowing his pride.

“Thanks JK,” you smile reaching up, pushing away your tears. “Can we please go back to being friends. I hate not being able to text you.”

He nods his head, “yea.”

You spend the rest of the evening laying in Jungkook’s bed watching movies. You don’t cuddle or anything like you used to, and you can’t lie you miss it. After midnight Jungkook drives you home and kisses your cheek goodnight. You’re relieved you worked out what was going on, but you knew you had a lot more to talk about as well.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* if you would like to be tagged please message me or send an ask *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@mrcleanheichou @honeyoongles @aretha170 @sunflowergukkie @rjsmochii @livewittykid @patpus @a-little-baby-bun @super-btstrash-posts @chiquifibaby1208 @iovemaze @shinobiblazing @t-toodumbtocare

#bts #bts army #jimin #park jimin #bts x reader #bts imagine #taehyung #jungkook #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook social media au #jungkook x reader #jeon jungguk #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts smut #bts social media au #bts fake text #kim taehyung #kim soekjin #bts jin #sorkjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #my writing #somebobys baby

[ladyloveandjustice]

ok more thoughts on the natsume movie

-I really liked it! But I also felt like they tried to do too much at once. It definitely felt like the story was forcing itself to include ALL of the main characters at times and it made things too packed, like “oh shit we need Natori in here uhhhh so i guess there’s a shiki he’s going after so here he comes at the last minute” and “oh yeah taki needs to be here so she gets uh her memories erased too as like. an afterthought.”

-seriously Natsume and Tanuma were weirdly unconcerned about Taki? “We need to go find Nyanko 2 and 3..oh,.and Taki” OKAY GUYS I LOVE NYANKO TOO BUT LITERALLY ALL OF TAKI’S LOVED ONES HAVE TOTALLY FORGOTTEN HER AND SHE’S GONE MISSING COMPLETELY AND IT’S DEFINITELY A YOKAI THING, I KNOW THE LITTLE NYANKOS WERE PRETTY HELPLESS APART FROM EACH OTHER, BUT TAKI CANNOT EVEN SEE YOKAI, SHE WOULDN’T EVEN BE ABLE TO RUN FROM THEM, I’D BE WAY MORE CONCERNED ABOUT HER????

-hypocritcally I did like Sasada’s little speech bit though, considering how early on Nishimura and Kitamoto would act all aggravated when she tried to hang out with them, it was really sweet and nice development to see them clearly a little excited and proud that she got into the speech contest, bragging about it to Natsume and inviting everyone to come see it with them, like they’re genuninely good friends now who want to be there for her and get excited about her accomplishments! major awwws! also her speech it was a nice callback to earlier episodes that tied into the themes of the story and the fact Sasada didn’t mention it was a yokai thing shows character growth (in regards to basic common sense lol) on her part.

-ok but the most potentially interesting direction the movie could have gone was relegated to a dream sequence and that was kinda disappointing though, Natsume’s dream about the Fujiwaras forgetting about him due to the yokai WAS terrifying and a good peek into like,the anxiety that still constantly haunts him despite how far he’s come, but it made me (sadistically, I know) want to see how Natsume would deal if this REALLY did happen. We’ve seen how Natsume’s friends would cope with him losing all memories of them, but what about the reverse. Losing all the relationships and feeling of belonging he struggled SO HARD to finally build would be way more traumatic for Natsume than it would be for most characters. Would he be tempted to give up, go back to his old “well maybe they are better off without me” state? Would he panic and lose his head completely for a bit? Would he try and struggle to rebuild? This is a REALLY good potential plotline that could lead to a really good growth with Natsume facing his greatest fear (no longer having a place to belong) and realizing just how much he’s willing to fight for it and how deep his bonds with these people are now (and maybe even a big step to realizing he needs to tell the Fujiwaras the truth at last)....I WANT IT SO BAD NOW.

-thanks movie for acknowledging that Reiko would be the secret crush of every single wlw she meets, not just Hinoe and she TOTALLY mistake nervous gay staring and squealing and running away when she talks to them as fear when it’s just ‘OMFKFSLDAW THAT HOT GIRL WHO BEATS UP ALL THE BOYS AND COULD CARRY ME IN HER STRONG ARMS TALKED TO ME SHE’S SO FUCKING C O O L GOTTA GO SWOON AND DIE SOMEWHERE” i cannot believe this was finally a plotline i want the rest of this story to be natsume meeting an army of old ladies still fondly remembering their crushes on his grandmother and it gets increasingly more awkward

-DKASNAFL THIS LADY SERIOUSLY KICKSTARTED HER ENTIRE FUCKING CAREER AND ARTISTIC PASSION BECAUSE SHE DECIDED TO MAKE A LOVING PICTURE OF REIKO’S STRIKING SILHOUETTE, WHICH SHE HAS KEPT TO THIS DAY IN LOVING MEMORY OF THE COOLEST, MOST INTIMIDATING GIRL SHE EVER SWOONED OVER THAT IS SOME PHOENIX WRIGHT SHIT MY FRIEND

-btw, i really liked that it was casually mentioned she never married and the son she did have was out of wedlock and there was no judgement around that- it’s kind of sad because combined with the reiko thing the ‘lesbian who tried to be hetero but couldn’t’ subtext is strong BUT MAYBE SHE’LL FIND A GIRLFRIEND NOW

- NATSUME BEING LONELY AND UPSET WHEN HE COULDN’T TALK TO NYANKO AND HAVING NIGHTMARES ABOUT HIM FORGETTING HIM!!!

-the fact there was a kid who tried to pretend he was “like natsume” because he also didn’t fit in and wanted to bond with him and natsume had to struggle with that was another really good bit that i think could have used a full episode rather than being packed into a movie trying to do too much at once- but from the ‘child with mental illness’ subtext standpoint it’s REALLY good and interesting, because Natsume’s feelings were so realistically complicated about it. like he felt so betrayed it was a lie but also recognized this guy HAD tried to reach out in a weird, confused little kid way- and in the end, the two were able to reconcile with the older boy apologizing for his past self and recognizing what he did wrong and Natsume realizing there actually was no intended malice in the little kid’s actions.

- B A B Y  N Y A N K O S

-it definitely wasn’t perfect and but it was gorg and interesting with a lot packed in and I’ll def have to rewatch sometime.

#natsume movie #natsume's book of friends #takashi natsume #nyanko sensei #tooru taki #jun sasada #reiko natsume

[ladylilibet]

Tainted Love|Chapter 1.

I/II/III/IV/V

Tainted Love -- How can you tell a lady no? The White Wolf claimed he needed no one, but his collection of misfits started with Lady Helena of Oxenfurt... and ended with her, too. 

                           Chapter One: 𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝕮𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗

Helena pricked her finger on her embroidery needle yet again. With a curse, she threw her hoop down in frustration. Her governess shot her a glare but said nothing as she worked on her own stitching. The girl mouthed an apology and picked up her book.

Being the daughter and the only heir of a duke had its perks. Besides having the best education on the continent her fingertips, she had the wealth and splendor to go with it. And yet here she sat, still feeling empty. She wanted to live like the characters in her books. To fight with a sword, sleep under the stars, travel. She felt trapped.

'I bet that the heroes in these narratives didn't have to wear a corset that was too tight.' She thought as she fidgeted in her chair. Now she would be allowed to walk along the main road in town and do her daily window shopping. But her mother recently set a curfew, forbidding her to even leave the villa at sundown.

Lately, those who partake in too much drink and wander the streets during the night have been found dead and drained of their blood. Witnesses can only recall large shadows moving at quick speeds. The beast, with its penchant for only partaking in drunkard's blood, has been aptly named The Oxenfurt Drunk.

She only ever seen monsters in her books -- just mere illustrations lazily drawn. Curiosity ached in her bones, but she knew she couldn't dare sneak out to get a glimpse at the bloodsucker. The Drunk defied the knowledge of the local academy's scholars as well as the swords of my father's commanders. Because of this, King Radovid V ordered her father to post a contract for an experienced monster hunter to slay the beast. The reward: 200 crowns and dinner at the Duke and Duchess of Oxenfurt's villa.

"Helena!" The Duchess called for her down the corridor. She knew it was best to not shout back, so she tucked a ribbon in her book, marking her place. As she stood, he smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and gave a quick goodbye to the older woman before leaving the study.

As she walked down the hall, she was greeted by my parents and a stranger. In addition to standing a head taller than my father, he had long white hair and bright golden eyes. He was beautiful in a way she'd never describe most of the men around here. He looked like a knight straight out of her books and she was aware of how plain others looked in contrast to him.

"Aah, there she is! Geralt of Rivia, meet my little daughter, Lady Helena." Her father gleamed as he gave Geralt a hearty smack on the back, "The White Wolf has slain the Oxenfurt Drunk! Can ya believe it? A Witcher in my home!"

A Witcher? That explains his looks. He's a mutant. And yet... She would never want to use that word to describe him.

She curtsied after my father introduced her and held out a hand for him to kiss. But rather than bring her hand to his lips, he gave the girl a firm handshake. She furrowed her brow at this response but ignored it. She heard that Witchers cannot feel nor understand human emotion and assumed this applied to manners as well .

"Thank you, kind sir, for slaying the beast. I am very fortunate to be able to walk the streets once more and do so safely ." Helena repeated the words she could see her mother mouthing. She clapped happily once she finished.

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for coin."

She huffed but her father interrupted her before she could say anything smart to the man.

"And for a hot meal," He told him as he gestured for them to follow him to the dining room. "I hope you like suckling pig, Witcher. Little Lena over here saved the piglet when it wouldn't latch on to its mam's tit. Spoonfed it and all, thinkin' she would be savin' it from death. Turns out she was savin' it for our dinner." Her father's boisterous laugh made her stomach turn.

Dinner went about as well as expected. Her mother and father tried to masque their bragging as hospitality. But Helena could see through their guise.

'Look, Witcher! Look what we have that you don't. Take a look at your dirty reflection on our shiny, silver spoons.' I could imagine them saying.

Geralt was hard to read but he at least had a realness about him. With him, a grunt meant 'yes,' and a 'hmm' meant 'no.'

"Witcher, can I call ya Witcher?"

A grunt.

"Ya got a little lady back home?"

A 'hmm.'

"Would you like to stay in our guest chambers?"

Another 'hmm.'

"Would you like a hot bath before you take your leave?"

A pause, a ponder, then a grunt.

A servant escorted him to the bathroom, leaving them to sit in silence.

Helena waited for Geralt to be out of earshot before breaking the silence and mimicking him with a grunt.

She received a glare from my father and her mother stood and leaned across the table. With no hesitation, she delivered a smack onto the girl's cheek.

"Don't continue to embarrass us, girl."

"Once he's finished, go get washed up." Her mother commanded, "You're to have Poppy escort you to Samson's mother and father's home. We're to celebrate both the killing of the beast and your engagement, so be prompt."

She waited to hear my parents' carriage pull away before standing and stomping up to the second story. She waited in front of the bathroom's door before taking a deep breath, covering her eyes, and barging in. Water splashed as Geralt was surprised by the sudden intrusion but she kept her hand placed over her eyes .

"Oh nooo. I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were in here!"

"So you enter all empty rooms with eyes covered?" She peaked out behind my hands to see his amused smirk, "Or did Little Lena wish to join my bath?"

She turned beet red and threw her hands to her side in protest with a scoff. Despite the temptation to look down, she locked eyes with him.

"I need you to help me escape." His smirk faded and he now donned a glare.

She waited for him to give her a response, but when none came, she proceeded with her monologue, "I hate it here. Oxenfurt may seem progressive, but I'm not granted the same liberties... My elder sister, she got pregnant out of wedlock. Died during childbirth along with her baby. They say it's a curse, punishment, I say it's just bad luck. But that didn't stop them from tightening the reins."

"And you think you're the first girl to beckon me that I rescue you?" He asks as he lounges back, "You're well-fed, well-dressed, and live in a great city. Why leave?"

"I'm not happy. I want to live a life worth living. Not to be some man's wife, seen merely as a womb."

Geralt slowly stood and she clasped a hand over my eyes once more, eliciting a chuckle from him as he grabbed his towel . Once she knew he was covered , I looked to him once more.

"They'll say I kidnapped you."

"They already say you're a monster. What's wrong with conforming to their narrative?"

"I don't need some girl to slow me down, to get in the way."

"I can learn to fight. I've studied some nursing and can take care of you... Plus, the two hundred crowns you received from my father, well... I have broaches you can pawn off that's worth double.

Geralt stared hard at her, seeming to challenge her, but she didn't back down. After silence, he huffed, "Go. Pack a bag and meet me at the stables. I leave in twenty, with or without you."

She turned on my heel with bouncing excitement as I rushed to the door. As Helena left, she heard Geralt grunt and utter one phrase:

"Fuck."

#witcher oc #geraltxoc #witcher fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

[mmazzeroo]

Chapter 5: ARYA II - Just A Short Ride Then

@helloimnotawesome - Apologies for the late update! I fell asleep (hides under cover in shame). Here’s Arya back again:

Chapter 5: ARYA II - Just A Short Ride Then

"Amador and Adei," she tested the names on her tongue. "Is that traditional Naathi names?" She looked over at Missandei who was sitting with Amador. The little guy was eagerly suckling the bottle she was feeding him.

"Hmm, I wouldn't say traditional but they definitely have a Naathi touch to them," she answered while looking affectionately at the infant in her arms. Looking up she asked, "do you like them?"

"The babies or the names?"

"Both."

"Yes. I like them. Good names for good people. And," she looked down at the little bundle in her own arms, "if anyone ever gives you shit for being named a 'Snow' you just come tell me and I'll deal with them!" Despite the tradition of naming children born out of wedlock a specified 'bastard name', obviously there were still families carrying those names - and people knew the origin of said names, and the world is full of assholes who gives others shit for stuff they have no control over.

Missandei chuckled.

She raised her eyes and gave Missandei a defiant look. "I will!"

"Oh I don't doubt that one bit, Arya!" she replied laughing a bit harder while trying not to disturb the baby on her arm.

She huffed and fixed her eyes back on a quiet Adei. "Uncle Benjen always says that snow is like kindness - it brings beauty wherever it lands, and you have a beautiful name. Don't ever let anyone tell you different!"

"Wow, that's deep coming from you Arya," Missandei gave her an amused smile.

She just rolled her eyes.

"Besides, having steel grey eyes makes you a bad-ass!"

Seeing eyes same hue of grey as her own always made her think of her aunt Lya. From stories she'd been fed her entire life her aunt sounded like someone you'd definitely want on your team. She died fighting for and defending her family what's more admirable than that? You're my hero, aunty Lya! Wish I'd gotten to know you. Not to mention the person you died for. Think I have any chance of ever meeting him? Is he even still alive? Does he know even know about me?? Thinking about her missing brother always made her emotional. She swallowed.

"No doubt you and your brother over there come from a long line of total bad-asses!" She couldn't stop grinning as she said it.

Missy just shook her in amusement. "Sounds like you feel a bit better now."

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks," a small shy smile on her lips.

"I told you - holding a baby is good for the soul." Missandei gave her one of her signature warm smiles.

She hated to admit it but Missandei was right. She liked coming up to the hospital nursery and just looking at the babies sleeping. It was so calming. Especially if there'd been some difficult cases during her shift. The babies always looked so serene, and because she didn't know anything about them she was free to dream up all kinds of wonderful lives ahead for each of them.

"Why don't you stop by again sometime during the night, if you can, and help feed them again? You like them and the feeling seems to be very much mutual," she winked.

"I can't! This is why I always stay outside."

Missandei gave her a puzzled look.

She sighed. "I only meet people in the ambulance and then later I can ask about their status, but I never really meet them or get to know them. If I did I'd get attached and I don't want to do that because eventually they'll need to leave anyway." Another sigh and she hung her head in defeat. "One time doing this and I'm already getting attached to these little cinnabons! Now I can't make up stories in my head about all the great things they'll do and accomplish in their life."

She looked up at Missandei with big sad eyes, lower lip quivering, she was doing her very best to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. One way or another people are always lost so what's the point of getting attached? It'll only hurt more later!

Missandei, having placed Amador back in the crib, reached down to collect Adei and place her next to her brother. Having tucked both babies in, the golden eyed woman stopped in front of her. Getting down on her haunches, placing her warm hands on her knees and looked up with an empathetic smile.

"Arya dear, you cannot live your life trying to avoid pain. That'll only cause a different kind of pain. Please don't do that to yourself. You're much too precious to allow yourself to suffer like that." Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Keep it together damn it! "All those people you help - you meet them on some of the worst times of their lives - and they'd love to be able to meet you and thank you. Maybe in 10-15 years you'll have inspired a new generation of paramedics because of stories of such meetings. Hmm?"

She couldn't meet Missandei's eyes. If she did she'd break. Arya Stark does not break - if she does it most certainly won't be for anyone to see! Gods! Brave face, Arya, brave face. Brave means you're scared but you do it anyway. I'm not scared. I'm not!! Damn it. She took a deep breathe and nodded slowly.

"But...I can't go see the cinnabon's father. Aggo, Jhogo and Qotho are taking turns at standing guard outside his room. Never seen a patient under that kind of protection!" What in the seven hells is going on?!

"If you ask nicely I'm sure Dany will let you come in."

"Dany! That's another thing. She's basically camping out in there! Why? What's the deal with that? He wasn't that injured. Dr. Lannister told me so himself. Besides Dany's a vet so what would she be doing in there at all?!" She was getting agitated. What the fuck's going and why isn't anyone saying anything?!

"Ok, alright. Let's just go sit outside. We don't want to disturb the sleeping beauties in here," Missandei calmly guided her out into the hallway and sat down on the bench just by the door.

"They had his dog brought up. It was agitated being separated from him. Dany's the only vet it allows close. Is that answer enough for you?" Missandei was cool as a cucumber as always. Being calm was just her thing.

"What about the guards?" She crossed her arms across her chest, eyebrows and chin raised in challenge.

"That I don't have an answer for. You'll have to find out yourself." An amused smile. What's so funny??

"How did you know about that thing about the dog?"

"I asked, my dear." Another amused smile. Why's this funny?!?

"Well, there are plenty more questions to be answered!"

"Here's Viserys, maybe he can help answer some of them for you?" She saw Missandei wave the silver-haired man over from where he was currently talking to someone a few doors down.

She loved Vis like a brother, but sometimes she wondered how he managed to become a certified psychologist. Do you need to be certified crazy first? Takes one to know one kind of thing? Is that how it works? He was currently wearing black dress pants and a red silk shirt. So far so good. Nothing abnormal about that. On his feet and head though. She couldn't help chuckling when she saw him walk down the hallway. Confident as always. On his feet were green elf-shoes with upturned toes and red pom-poms on the tip, the red cuffs had saw-tooth borders with jingle bells hanging from each point. Meaning the bells rang with every step he took. On his head he was wearing a reindeer-headband and to finish off the ensemble was a red foam nose in the middle of the face. Of course all accompanied by his signature teeth-flashing smile.

By his side was Max, Dadvos' big black newfie, also wearing a reindeer headband! Max, and his two brothers Dax a fudge brown goofball and Pax the silver/grey chill one, were all adopted by Dadvos after having spent months at the animal rescue centre run along side the animal hospital downstairs. They had all three been trained as therapy / support dogs and Viserys would often bring them along when he visited the children's wing. They were affectionally known as 'community dogs' because they spent as much time at the hospital as they did with Dadvos.

She was always excited to see Max and is brothers of course. "Yo, rugman! Haven't seen you in a few millennia. Give me some tassel." Max sat down and lifted his right paw up and high-fived her. "Excellent!"

Looking back up at Viserys she laughed more than she wanted to as she said, "Vis take those things off."

"No, I shan't. It's Christmas!" He answered in an adopted posh accent which only made her laugh more. "See, it put a smile on your sour face, so it worked." He flashed her another smile. He shared a look with Missandei as she went back into the nursery chuckling.

"So", he said as he sat down next to her, "tell Santa's elf what's made you such a sour puss today?"

Glaring at him she was trying to decide if she should just tell him immediately or try to fight it like she usually did. This is too important. There's too many questions. Fuck your pride for now, Arya, now's not the time to be stubborn. She took a deep breathe. Ok, here goes.

"Do you know why there are guards outside the door of Snow's room?"

"Ah! Of course! You're much too clever to not have questions about that." He smirked and nodded approvingly. "Well, I do know a little bit but you need to know even I can't tell you all I know. Alright?"

"...yeah I know that." Roadblocks. How typical!

"Good. Now first of all it's Captain Snow to you."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, he's a military man, Arya." He smiled. It was difficult taking him seriously though with that red nose in the middle of his face. He must've seen her stare at it because he chuckled and took it off. "Better?"

"Much!"

He shook his head slightly. "Secondly, he was a K9 unit and in the military they always keep them together if one gets injured. Explains why Ghost—"

"Ghost?"

"—yes, the dog's name is Ghost."

"Fitting name."

"So I hear." He smiled. "As I was saying, separating them explains why Ghost was so agitated down in his pen. Being in same bed and room as Captain Snow it has become much calmer. Dany's the only vet—

"—the only vet who can touch it. Missandei told me that part," she was proud of managing to say that without sounding too impatient.

Vis chuckled again. "Alright then. Top item on your list was the guards, right?" She nodded. "He was Captain in the Night's Watch until about 3 years ago when he was honourably discharged. Having earned more than one medal of valour."

She sat there staring at him. Eyes and mouth wide open. Holy crap! I helped save the life of a real-life hero?! She couldn't believe it.

"So that's why that other doctor is in his room as well? And why Commander Selmy's here talking to mom and dad and Rhaella almost everyday?"

"Have I ever told you how clever you are?" He winked and smiled at her

"Uhh only every day?" She smiled back

"Good to know you're listening!"

She slapped him on his shoulder, "asshole!" Love you too!

He just laughed out loud and got back up on his feet.

"Want to hop on my back for old time's sake? Fly the dragon down the corridor?" He had turned his back to her slightly and were looking over his shoulder. As a child she loved playing that game with him. She couldn't count the number of times he had run up and down the various hallways of the hospital with her or Dany on his back pretending to be fearsome Targaryen dragons of old!

She couldn't help the grin on her face as she said, "just a short tide then!"

#joneryssecretsanta2018 #helloimnotawesome #callmedewitt #heartstrings #jonerys fanfic #modern au #jonerys

[ariianas]

ヽ・ﾟʟᴏsᴛ ɪɴ 𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ─── 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙖﹔

( in which ariana’s attempt to apologize to @mcrrcne goes .. well, just read for yourself ! )

dear camila﹔

            fully aware that i’m the last person u expected /anything/ from, but i figured this is the only way that i’m going to be able to lay it all out on the table ... peacefully. no one’s running off, no one’s throwing anything & no one’s making a complete fool of themselves. just me. venting. first off, i think the best way to start this is to finally take the noble road for once, & apologize for my actions on ... well, probably the first time that i’ve ever seen u in person. but in order for u to fully understand my reasoning behind acting out, there’s some things that i need to get off of my chest. just don’t think that i hate you ( cause i don’t even though i actually convinced myself that i should ), in fact, u have taught me more things than i’m willing to acknowledge which only makes me wanna hate u more. now let me paint this picture for u ─── my little ass is casually minding my business on the beach to see this fine, tall glass of water kissin up on this lil thing. how the hell do u think i’m supposed to react to that ? and even though he swears on his life that it was on the cheek, i honestly don’t think that it matters. it still happened. regardless of the fact that he and i were separated ... are separated / working on that & mutually agreed to that, it stung knowing that u had him off to better start than i ever did. this letter is all about truths, so, allow me to drop the first one ! i’d be a fucking liar if i said that i wasn’t jealous of u. there. it took gregg six years to come back to me, yet took you six seconds to have him rethinking every decision. again, how do u think i’m supposed to feel ? u just waltzed in & destroyed everything.

            we talk about u. sometimes, at least. and we’re not, the craziest thing is that i don’t know if he’s thinking about u ... but i am. wondering what the hell u have that i don’t. marriage is about sacrifices & i’m sure u know that, which means i was changing my life around to make my marriage work. except, that’s quite hard to do when /someone/ doesn’t really get the hint to buzz right the hell off when it’s done ! but no, every time his phone buzzes & he’s all smiles from ear to ear, u know who has to be stuck with those insecurities ? me. u know who’s gonna be left at the alter cause he suddenly has cold feet due to his newfound sidechick ? me. and u would think that after everything that i have been thru in the past year, u couldn’t allow me to selfishly have the one thing that makes me happier than anything else. it feels like a wrecking ball swooped in & destroyed my world, but every single time i try to pick up the pieces, something happens. almost like my world is permanently demolished. so, u know who i hope has to live with that ? u.as if that wasn’t enough, nothing screams ‘ fuck you ariana ’ more than ur announcement earlier. congratulations, sis, u have successfully ripped my heart right out of my chest & stomped allllll over of it. it’s sickening, honestly, just /thinking/ about u laying down with him. knowing that he probably even came to me after & probably kissed me after kissing u .. & yet, u continued being the sidechick, hell, u probably still are. but reality check, all of this effort to constantly undermine our relationship .. & that’s definitely all ur ever going to be. 

            but u know what ? the bright side is that u might actually prove me wrong, & be promoted to baby momma. and that’s totally not a shot at ur kid, but about u ... since, u know, u thought it was okay to lay down with MY husband ( regardless of the fucking separation or not ) & decided ‘ hm, u know what ? don’t even use a condom cause i’m a miserable, home-wrecking lowlife who has no consideration but anyone for myself. ’ which, in my opinion, covers ur little pity party to the tee. i mean, it’s honestly sad that no one sees right thru ur little game. u know /exactly/ what ur doing every step of the way, but throw tantrums when lil baby doesn’t get what she wants ! it’s disgusting. i know u think i should be blaming gregg & i am, but it’s clear that ur manipulative enough to take advantage of him. he was fucking looking out for u ... went thru shit with me just to cover for ur sorry ass, & that’s what u do ? take advantage of all the shit that’s been going thru ? his parents, the overdose, his own marriage is practically a shambles, & now u just created a life long relationship with him for the sake of ur child. i really thought this would be the moment when i would be able to say the truth, how i really feel bad for u cause it’s constantly disaster after disaster ... but when i think about it, camila, it makes sense. u have officially destroyed my life. hell, in a couple months, i’m gonna have to play stepmother w/ my own husband’s kid out of wedlock. and fuck the tabloids cause they’re most likely going to run the story, & everyone’s going to get their statements in, except for the one person who this affects the most. me. words can’t even describe the emotions that i’m feeling right now, even attempting to just demoralizes me even more. the fact that u would stoop so low just to get one over me is mind-blowing, & at the end of the day, i hope karma bites u right in the ass. really fucking hard. since this is the beginning of a long-lasting relationship between u & i, figured i’d end this the same way that i did once we first met ( u know, without the margarita dripping down ur face ) ...

                                                                                      toodles whore,                                                                      ariana grande butera-sulkin ♡

#shq;task #shq;bali #okAY BUT LIKE THE FIRST GIF WAS LIT ME TYPIN THIS #LIKE ?????? FUCK ME UP ARI #A / LOT / OF FEELINGS HERE #:))))))))

[dreamwreaver]

Culminate

Drabbles are fun, but this one got away from me, oops 😅. This is a sequel to the story Exchange, it will not make sense without reading that first. For gabriel-fucking-agreste because i love them

Their little arrangement went on for months. He had been cruel at first, taking his own pleasure and leaving her to burn. She had been sent back to the party stewing and unsatisfied as a chaperone. An hour later he joined the party, in considerably better spirits than he had departed it. As the servants were directed by Nathalie to clean up when it was over he walked past her, depositing a note in her hands. In the safety of her room she found it said to meet him at a specified time.

Their liaisons were always in such fashion. Sometimes, he had her meet him at the scene of her crime, where the could be uninterrupted and go for hours. Other times he relished the idea of their being discovered, if only because she was the one who would suffer. Still, as much as Nathalie had thought she might detest this shift in their dealings, she found it… difficult. Despite how much of a bastard he was painted as (and more often than not was) he was a phenomenal lover. Of course, Nathalie had never expected anything more. Gabriel Agreste was a perfectionist, and the only times she was ever left wanting was when he did it on purpose. And he always finished her off later.

Still, there was that nagging worry in the back of her mind. Of course, the usual of her being less than virtuous now, given her wedlock lover status, for a lady of her station no less. But there was that nagging fear that was only relieved by the monthly mornings of waking up to stained sheets.

Until this past month. Nathalie trembled in fear. For all their trysts, for all their preparation (the french envelopes were a godsend) for her lack of title as his official mistress, for all his desire for her, Gabriel Agreste still loved his wife. Hawkmoth was still terrorizing the city, looking for the magical jewelry with the power to bring her back. And when he would eventually succeed, there would be no place for Nathalie. Except, it wasn't just Nathalie any longer.

A child. His child. Their child. But he could never know. And Nathalie couldn't allow herself to be thrown out on the streets. Not without a reference. No, she would need to come up with a plan. And it seemed there was only one.

She left him a letter, one stating that she had come down with a sudden onset of homesickness and had returned immediately. She had apologized for the short notice, but assured him she would be back in a few weeks. There had been no response. Excellent. When the time was nearly ended she sent another letter, this one stating that being home had made her realize how much she missed the quiet country life, and that she wanted to stay there. She apologized once again for her fickleness but said she wished to leave his employ and though it seemed bold might she still be able to ask him for a reference so that she could find employment here? If not, she would certainly understand why.

With a trembling hand the letter had been sealed and sent for delivery. A few days later, she had been informed that there was a visitor awaiting her company. Nathalie, having just finished another round of morning sickness, said she couldn't. Not five minutes later the servant had returned, this time looking more than a little shaken up, and said that the guest was very insistent she see them.

She should have known then and there who it was. But pregnancy was said to addle the mind. It was the only explanation for the shock she felt on seeing Gabriel Agreste in her father’s sitting room.

“You've been avoiding me Nathalie,” he began without greeting, “Care to tell me why?”

“I, I,” she stuttered, stumbling for an explanation, “I explained in my letters didn't I? I grew homesick, I want to stay here.”

“But you still wish to work?” He raised a skeptical brow at her.

“I can't very well expect to live on father’s, or eventually my brother’s, purse strings forever.” She explained. In a manner that she hoped was subtle she laid one arm across the other, but of them demurely but protectively resting in front of her stomach.

“I see,” his gaze had darted down when she moved her arms, but immediately dismissed the action in favor of further questioning, “Now, care to tell me the real reason why you ran from me?”

“I did,” she whispered quietly. Clearing her throat, she said in a sterner tone, “With all due respect Lord Agreste, I think perhaps it would be best if you left.”

“I will,” Gabriel assured her, “As soon as you tell me the truth.”

He stood from his seat and strode over to her. Sliding his hands about her waist he hauled her against him and whispered harshly in her ear, “You're keeping something from me Nathalie. And I won't rest until I know what it is.”

“It is nothing that concerns you,” She wiggles out of his grasp, he took another step towards her.

“Well well then,” Gabriel leered, “if it's nothing that concerns me then I should be free to do with you as I please, as I have always done.”

“We can't,” she whimpered helplessly as he began to kiss that spot behind her ear, just under the corner of her jaw.

“And why not?”

“Not in my Father’s house,”

“I have a country home not too far from here, join me for a ride then.”

“No!” She exclaimed pushing away from him, “Not here, not there, not anywhere, not ever again!”

He stared at her, long and hard, and then a look of comprehension slowly dawned on him. Too late Nathalie realize that in her haste to protect herself from his advances she had desperately covered her stomach.

“You're with child?” He whispered as if not daring to believe it.

Nathalie swallowed past the lump in her throat. Every fiber of her being said to lie, but she found she simply couldn't. But that didn't mean she could say the words either. Caught utterly she could only nod mutely.

“Is it mine?” Without even realizing she had done it Nathalie lunged forward and smacked him. Of course it was his, how could he ask such a stupid question? He had been the only one she had ever gone to bed with, literally and metaphorically speaking.

She was panting with rage, and still recoiling from the shock that she had actually struck him. Nathalie didn't even register the tears until they were trailing down her face. She saw how it affected him, the empathic abilities extending and he winced as he felt how much he had hurt her with that question.

“Nathalie, I-”

But she didn't stay to hear him. Instead she ran, retreating up the stairs to her room where she flung herself onto her bed and began to sob. It shouldn't have been surprising that he was able to follow her despite not knowing he layout. Her emotions provided a clear sense of direction. He entered without knocking.

“Nathalie, we need to talk about this,” Gabriel said as he sat down on the be next to her.

“What's there to talk about?” Nathalie asked bitterly, “I left because I didn't want you to throw me out. You want your wife back, and just as women have since the beginning of time, I am going to deal with the ramifications while you go on with your perfect life. Don't you worry though, whatever the child is born as it will never know you are it's sire.”

“Father,” Gabriel corrected.

“If you're not going to be around I see no reason to bestow that title on you.” Nathalie spat at him.

“But I am,” Gabriel replied.

“And how do you intend to do that?”

“By marrying you.”

“It is cruel enough how you have been treating me,” Nathalie flared at him from under the curtain of her hair, “I cannot take being made a fool of any longer.”

“You are not, because I am not toying, nor am I joking.” Gabriel sighed, “To be quite honest Nathalie, I have grown tired of the increasing failure. Emilie was a big believer in fate, and were she here now she would tell me that my successive failures meant that I was not meant to pursue this path any longer. And truth be told, I do not want to. I want to move on, Adrien has been trying to tell me for so long, and I was being too stubborn to listen. But I do not want the specter of my past any longer, I want you. I want you to be my wife, and I want to be the father of the baby that grows in you. Would you grant me that honor?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you love me,” Gabriel answered, “And I find, I find that I love you as well.”

“You sound so ecstatic about it,” Nathalie deadpanned.

“My apologies,” he replied, “I had grown so used to the notion that Emilie would be my only love that this whole situation has taken me quite by surprise.”

“It's not fair,” Nathalie moaned, emotional state vastly affected by the pregnancy, “You know how I feel about you, but I can't tell if you're lying or not.”

Gabriel undid his cravat and revealed a small stone lying beneath it. Removing it from his shirt he held it out to her and asked, “Would you like to find out?”

#miraculous ladybug #gabenath #drabble request #gabriel-fucking-agreste #this is for you #sequels

[scurvgirl]

The Potion

some CAM AU angst. Also to note - Views expressed in works and through characters are not necessarily held by the author. 

Aili and Mealla belongs to @lillotte17

Uthvir belongs to @feynites

There is a potion and it will make this go away. It will take away complications, take away discomfort and reminder of heartbreak. It can simplify her pain. It can remove the option of…of something worse happening.

She thinks about the potion a lot, particularly in the mornings when she sits by a chamber pot, too nauseas to move. She thinks about it when she hides from the world, not sure how to go about life anymore. He’s there, out and about, living unaware of the consequences he has given her. It wasn’t always like this, she was excited to tell him. That day where she was pregnant and he loved her and nothing was wrong. She just wanted to bask in it. And then he left her, alone and embarrassed, and she was left with knowledge that became…tricky.

He deserves to know that he’s going to be a father, she knows this. But she also doesn’t want to guilt him into staying if he is so dead set on not being with her.

The potion makes sense. It would…get rid of the trickiness. The babe would never know the rejection of the clan for being born out of wedlock, Solas would not feel trapped. It would be easier to just…not have the babe.

She recoils from the chamber pot, finally able to move. Her hair goes up as she gets ready for the day, mind flickering to the potion and to all of the other paths she could take. She could…not take the potion, have the child, and just…not tell Solas. Though he would start to take notice in a few months when her body began to change. Miriel could leave the Inquisition to have the baby, return to the clan. She hardly thinks Uthvir or Aili would begrudge her for it. But the babe would be ostracized. She could tell Solas, ask him to be a father, just because he doesn’t love her doesn’t mean their baby should be deprived of a father. He…could reject that.

He could ask her to drink the potion – simplify things.

No, enough thinking about this. She just…needs to clear her head. For the rest of the day, Miriel throws herself into her work. Her and Aili have been assigned to work on Dalish relations, similar to how Vivienne’s worked on the Orlesian nobility. They’re working to invite as many clans to Skyhold as possible, allying with them and providing whatever assistance possible. From what Miriel can tell, Uthvir is just happy to have found an assignment for Aili that largely does not involve dangerous field work. There’s lots of letter writing and gift sending, diplomatic work, not so much fighting.

Aili is admittedly better at the diplomacy than Miriel. Firsts are better regarded than Hunters ninety percent of the time, but Miriel is helpful in her own ways. There are several delegates present at Skyhold today, two from a Fereldan clan and three from an Orlesian clan. Aili and Miriel work most of the day with them, Aili impressing them with the resources the Inquisition has to offer and Miriel with impressing upon them how they would stay true to the alliance per Dalish rules.

By supper, the delegates are pleased and Miriel is certain they will encourage their Keepers to ally. It’s not so much to give the Inquisition support, but to support the clans. And with the clans better equipped and supplied, the better they will be able to fight any demons or rifts they come across. Clans also provide excellent reconnaissance in turn.

After seeing the delegates to their rooms, Miriel finds herself wandering back to the main hall. The rotunda’s candles are still lit, and there are telltale shadows inside. He’s painting again. Against her better judgement, she lingers by the door, watching as he moves unconcerned through the rotunda, sleeves rolled up to show paint splotched skin.

Miriel expects sadness to fill her, at the loss and at the heartbreak. She does not expect the rage. And it is the rage that carries her through the doorway and down the hall into the room. Creators, she is shaking with it.

How dare he leave her without even giving her one good reason to do so. He didn’t even say he didn’t love her anymore.

“You have become important to me, more important I could have imagined.” He had said.

“I am so sorry for causing you pain.” He told her when she said that she didn’t she would be able to let him remove her vallaslin. Sorry? Sorry?! Moments before he breaks her heart in two, he’s apologizing. He knew. But he didn’t…it’s not right.

“And I am sorry. I have distracted you…”

He apologized. All he did was apologize and leave but he didn’t tell her why. He had kissed her, told her she was beautiful, even if she couldn’t let her vallaslin go. She had leaned into him, happy and so…blissful. She knew he wasn’t exactly rearing to have a baby, but she didn’t think him to just abandon her or the babe. Sometimes babies just…happen.

But then he had left without her even being able to get the words out.

I’m having your child.

And she couldn’t even enjoy wanting the babe. Now she’s even considering taking a damn potion because of him.

“Miriel, now is not –

“Shut up,” she hisses out, pacing in his space. He blinks and sets his paints down, not quite looking at her. She takes a deep breath, trying to quell the rage. She pictures his face by the waterfall instead, and the look of the potion.

“You owe me an explanation,” she snaps, “you don’t get to call me vhenan and make me fall in love with you, fuck me, and…you don’t get to do all that and expect me to just accept it without an explanation!” Her voice rises with each word until she’s shouting at him. It serves no purpose, he’s stubborn and won’t bend, but Creators it feels good to just yell at him. He’s saddled her with the worst choice in the world so he gets to be yelled at a little.

His gaze is glued to the floor, his body tense, and it just makes her angrier. He can’t even look at her now?

“Look at me!”

“What do you want me to say? That I wish it didn’t have to be like this?”

“You have all the fucking power for it to not be like this! No, what I want to hear is an explanation for why you walked away, why you’ve always been walking away from me even as you said you loved me. Were you lying? Stringing the poor Dalish girl along to prove your point?” His point of course being that the Dalish are just as he’s always said – stupid and childish. She’s stupid and childish.

He shakes his head slow, as if remorseful, but she does not let up, “You can’t make a decision involving another person without consequence. This is your consequence, me yelling at you because you didn’t deign me worthy enough for a reason better than, than distracting me from my duties!”

“That is not why –

“Then tell me why!” She shouts, her body shaking. She can’t stand him, can’t stand what he’s done to her, what he’s doing to her, even if he doesn’t fully understand. Maybe she’s cruel to keep it from him, and maybe she’s wrong to do so, but she can’t bring herself to say the words.

I am having your baby.

But I could take a potion.

But I don’t want to.

“I am sorry for causing you pain, I never wanted to hurt you,” he says and a pained shrill sound escapes her.

I hate you! I love you, please just talk to me.

She turns from him, fresh tears streaming down her face. She brushes them away, needing to look stronger than she feels.

When she looks back at Solas, she catches him watching her closely, like he had in the early days of their courtship. For a brief moment, her rage quiets and she is reminded of how she fell in love with him, of sunlight streaming through the cracks in Skyhold, leaning against him while he told her stories. She remembers laying in the grass at night telling him about her clan and their folk tales that didn’t surround the Creators.

But he looks away and her ire returns.

“You didn’t have to hurt me, your apology means shit,” she tells him.

“I know.”

Say more! She wills, pleading him with her eyes. When he says nothing more, she laughs bitterly.

“Why do I still love you?” She whispers before leaving the way she came, her legs carrying her quickly into the night and away from the main building. She wishes she could drink, that would help, but the healers always said that drinking is bad for the baby.

It doesn’t matter if I take the potion.

That fucking potion.

Instead, she finds herself on the one of the taller battlement towers. She looks over the edge at the dark forest below and takes a deep breath. Then another breath, and another until she’s completely calmed. The calm reveals her exhaustion and she is quick to find her way back to her small room. Another vine’s encroached into the space, but she hardly minds as she collapses into the bed.

The morning brings with it sickness and melancholy. She cleans herself up and thinks of the potion. She knows the ingredients, it’s not a particularly difficult potion to make, she’s made it once before with a friend in need. She had wondered how her friend could do it at the time but now…maybe it was because every other option was worse.

Miriel’s hand flutters to her stomach and she wishes with every fiber of her being that it wasn’t like this. That she was happy to be with child, and that Solas was with her. But that is not reality, she does not live her life in dreams.

She informs Aili that she needs the day off, and spends it making the potion. It is ready to take by mid-afternoon. It sits in the small cauldron she stole from the kitchen, waiting for her to drink a full vial of it.

It is not a fragrant potion, it is not vile or difficult to be around. But she does not move from her bed as she stares at the blackened iron of the cauldron.

It will simplify things. The babe won’t grow up to be hated or to be fatherless. Because there will be no babe. Some dreams…are not meant to be. Solas is uninterested in even telling her the truth as to why he left her, she can hardly expect him to want to be so entangled with her life to raise a child. A child he most likely does not even want.

It doesn’t matter that she wants children. It doesn’t matter that if things were different, she wouldn’t have even contemplated the potion. Things aren’t different.

Miriel rises from her bed and takes a step forward. Her heart leaps into her throat and her hand moves to her lower abdomen. Steam rises from the cauldron as does her anxiety and trepidation. Does she really want to do this?

An image of a tiny baby fills her mind and it brings her to her knees. No. She can’t simplify things, she can’t take the potion. Sobs wrack her body, her head resting against the cool stone floor. It’s not right, it’s not fair that her dream has to be tainted like this.

A babe out of wedlock, doomed to be ostracized, fatherless, and their mother heartbroken. Truly a start to envy. But she is Dalish, and so is her child, even if Solas refutes the life, and that means that she does not submit to adversity. They will be strong, and they will make the best of what they have.

And Miriel is not entirely without a community. She has the inquisition.

She rises from the floor and pulls a heavy coat around her shoulders, shrouding her body. She cannot be in the same room with the potion, not when she knows she cannot drink it. She fears what it could do now, just by being in the same room as it.

The cool air of winter clears her head almost instantly. Her head tilts back as she breathes. She is going to be a mother, even if Solas can’t be a father.

#i put the disclaimer above because i am paranoid #miriel's rationality has taken a nose dive #my writing #miriel #aili #CAM au #fic

[damagedsavefile]

Dreaming//Viktuuri

Please check out my Wattpad to follow the story if you like it.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Wanderlust_Evident

If there is a typo I’m sorry me and my editor double check our work but we’re only human.

Enjoy! cx

Viktor POV

It’s winter. I can feel the cold air against my skin while little white flakes fall from the sky. All of it collecting and adding to the much larger blanket of white that covers the ground. Making it impossible to see the green grass beneath. The tree branches are covered in the white snow. Winter.

Winter and all it’s snow filled, cold air. Reminds me of Russia. Russia reminds me of my life, my memories. A past I would rather keep buried, never to be surfaced. No one needs to see, because it’s none of their business. What happened there stays between my grandfather, Yuri and I. I need to forget. We all need to forget.

“Viktor!” Yuri shouted. A snowflake hit my face as I turned to Yuri, startled by the sudden calling of my name. “Viktor, why the hell are you just standing there like an idiot, help us unload dammit,” Yuri demanded. “Huh? Oh sorry Yuri, I was lost in thought,” I apologized. “How are you lost in thought? We literally just got here Viktor. Besides we don’t have time for that right now. We need to finish unloading all of our things,” Yuri said. Looking puzzled, I questioned him, “Since when are you so eager to settle in Yuri?” Yuri looked offended, of course, I thought. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Yuri asked. “Oh don’t play innocent Yuri. You know what that means. You have done nothing but complain, non-stop might I add, since we left Russia, which was nearly two weeks ago Yuri. Two Weeks! Going on all about how you didn’t want to leave the place you grew up in, or leave your friends if you can even call them that. I mean honestly they were all just assholes,” I stated. I could see Yuri tense up. His mouth tightened, he straightened his spine, trying to make himself seem as tall as possible, and his fists in balls at his sides. He looked like a kitten ready to pounce on whatever was brave enough to get between him and his delicious tuna.

Yuri has always been like this, I thought. More bark than bite, not that he didn’t have any bite to his bark. He is pretty tough actually, just not to me. He’s my younger cousin, Yuri that is. Though we were raised more like brothers, me being the elder of the two of us at seventeen years old. Our mothers were sisters. We don’t have the same last name though. My mother Veronika Plisetsky married and took my father Anton’s last name Nikiforov, while Yuri’s mother Vera had him out of wedlock and his dad Boris Sokolov was a deadbeat, so Yuri wound up with his mother’s last name, same as our grandfather. He basically raised us if I’m to be honest. No matter what Yuri does, he’ll always be my little brother, and I’ll always see him as a precious person I want to protect. Like a lioness protecting her little cubs. Yuri is more of a kitten, but oh well. I already kind of failed at protecting him it would seem. I’ll have to do better this time.

My thought’s were interrupted, again might I add, when Yuri spat at me with, “Oh silly me, why would I be angry, no furious about saying goodbye to my friends, huh? Why would I be upset about leaving Russia, leaving Moscow? Leaving our home Viktor! Leaving everything familiar for something new. A place we know nothing about!” Normally I would keep my calm and respond playfully to Yuri since angered outbursts are a common thing from him. Not this time though, I can’t stand how much stress his complaining is putting on our grandfather, I'v had it with that. He needs to just accept it and forget our life before America, before we arrived in Oakland Cove, Colorado. Even though it’s a strange place, with unrecognizable faces, we just need to forget. Why can’t he understand that I need to forget? I can’t do that if he keeps reminding me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t care. I don’t even understand why he would even want to remember that life. I shudder at just the thought of it. My own anger rising, I stalk over to Yuri and grab his face. With a hint of poison laced through my words I manage to say, “It’s not just about you Yuri! It’s about all three of us. It’s about a fresh start. It’s change Yuri! It’s what we need. It’s what we desperately need. Why do-”. Before I could finish our grandfather cut in. “What the hell is going on here?! Huh? Yuri? Viktor? Anyone want to fess up?” Grandpa demanded. The box he was carrying fell to the ground. Hopefully it wasn’t breakables. “Look you two, I know this is hard on both of you. For different reasons yes, but the point is you need to man up for fucks sake. Yuri you’ll be fifteen in March, you’re getting older boy, it’s time you learned how to let things go, without raising an argument. And Viktor you just turned seventeen, you practically are a man, you shouldn’t have instigated this yet you let your anger get the best of you,” Grandpa sighed. He took a deep breath before retiring to his box that was now lying on the ground. Yuri and I were too ashamed to say anything. We had acted like fools. Yuri went to pick up a box he had down by his feet. It had ‘Yuri’s animal print clothing’ on it so I can speculate it was one of the many boxes that held his animal clothes. He has a bit of an obsession. I was about to go grab a box myself. Both of us were interrupted however by grandfather who seemingly had more to say,  but he was sadder somehow. Maybe the look in his eyes? “It’s been hard on me too, but do you know how I get through it? I picture the life I’ll be able to have with both of my grandsons, and how much they can grow here. You both have bright futures ahead of you. Personal reason held us back in Russia but here, now, it’s going to be different. Yes America will be new for us but they can’t reach you here. It’s a fresh start so don’t fuck it up with all your damn arguing, okay? We’re going to be a family. I love both of you boys and I know you can get through this, together we all can. So please boys, just please, stop fighting, for me? That’s all I want, for us to be a happy family. I’m getting older, my back has been hurting more and I just can’t take this much stress,” Grandfather pleaded. “Yes grandpa,” both Yuri and I whispered.

Grandpa grabbed our heads and ruffled our hair in a warm sort of awkward hug. As he walked away taking a box inside our new house rather quickly. He looked like he was going to cry, no doubt why he left in such a hurry. Now it was just Yuri and I once again. An uncomfortable silence settled in as we just looked at each other. Yuri broke the gaze, shoulders slumped, and his hands shaking slightly. I finally noticed that Yuri wasn’t angry or upset about moving after all. The boy of a mere fourteen was just scared. He’d never admit it but he was scared to death by all of this. Timid to believe this new opportunity for us was real. I understood as I too was afraid this wasn’t real; terrified I would wake up and realize I was dreaming. All of the hope I had left slipping away, outstretching my hand only to be just out of reach.

I realized I had been an ass and I should apologize to Yuri, but I don’t do apologies. It’s okay though, because Yuri knows I have my own way of apologizing. I’ll buy him an animal print sweater or something. Yuri started to walk away with the box in his arms, the one he was about to take inside before grandpa turned to say more. Before he was out of earshot I said, “Home is where the heart is. Your heart is with the people you love, the people you love are your family.” Yes family can mean blood relatives, friends, or your partner, but for this instance it meant blood relatives. Yuri looked to the side. “Dah, I know Viktor,” Yuri mumbled. Though it was barely above a whisper, I still heard. I turned to go grab a box while Yuri’s footsteps disappeared into the house. The wind began to blow a little harshly. My long hair blew into my face making me unable to see a thing. While I was attempting to get the hair out of my face I wound up forgetting about the box in front of me, and my leg caught the box propelling me forward into the cold snow. I got up as fast as possible trying to wipe snow off my face and body. Figures this would happen right? “Ugh,” I sigh, “God I fucking hate winter.”

#yurionice #viktuuri #victuuri #viktor nikiforov #victor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #yurio #yuri plisetsky #yoi #yoi fanfic

[jo-the-schmo]

How relationships have defined me

It's about 2 a.m. and I feel the need to get this out there for people to see where I'm coming from. The short answer to this is that I don't like relationships. Ready for the long exposition and reasoning? Good, let's go! My parents were never married, I was born out of wedlock. I've never seen my parents be together in a relationship since they broke it off when I was about a year old. Even now when I'm looking back at the people they were, I don't see how they could ever have been together. My dad, who is my main caretaker, remained single for a good majority of my childhood. (More on this later) My mom on the other hand didn't. She met a man online, married him after knowing him for about 2 months at most. I don't want to sound rude but he was definitely just using her to be able to stay in the country. You'll see what I mean in the next couple lines. He was extremely abusive. My mom is a very headstrong and stern woman, he never even tried to hit her. That didn't make him any less crazy. He would go around the house and break things because "he's the one who paid for them" He tried to stab my pregnant sister in the stomach which made her have to get a restraining order Put an add on Craig's list, pretending to be my other sister and offering cheap sex to strangers so people would go after her He would push me down the wooden stairs in her house, grab me, there's a lot of stuff I can't even remember because I've blocked them out and I honestly don't want to know what he did that made me do that He's also the reason I started to hurt myself in the first place, my fear of him created these things in my head and they haven't left since. He's where my fear of closets started. My mom didn't leave him until he posted pictures of her online after chemo This was all just at her house though, now we deal with school. I remember being in the first grade and there was a boy who would sit next to me and be nice to me everyday. I thought he was my friend until he started to touch me I didn't tell anyone, but I stopped being around him As I got older, I spent more time with my cool sister And her husband is just like my step dad. He doesn't stop screaming, doesn't stop fighting, doesn't stop throwing. Having to clean up the plate that was just thrown at you is pretty humiliating So are the jokes about my body And my sexuality And my choice to not be in relationships because of people like him. I don't want that I don't want to be the object of my own situation The problem that needs to be fixed Now as a teenager, people want me to be in a relationship because it'll make me happier But it won't make me happier, relationships aren't going to fucking solve my problems That's an idiotic thing to even think to begin with If anything I'd just be more scared of what I'm doing But now we're at my most recent resemblance of a relationship During my freshman year, I got close to this guy. He was sweet, he listened to me, understood me, was always there for me. He was the first light of what I thought a successful relationship would be But then one day, I found out he kissed another girl. I wasn't angry, if anything I was more upset for the other girl I decided I wanted to be an adult about things, say that I didn't want to be in a relationship but if he apologized I would still be his friend. I told him I wanted to talk with him in private, to which he led me to the back of the school we went to. He kissed me I pushed him away, saying that I just wanted to talk But he didn't stop I was trapped again Trapped in my own fear of him I felt like I was in the darkest closet I'd ever been in The most narrow and thick aired space I'd ever been placed His smell made me want to vomit I blamed myself so much and sometimes I can't help but go back to that After everything, I tried to tell the teachers Nothing really happened He left last year due to "bullying" For which we were heavily scolded for I never stopped crying I've been the object of people's pleasure my entire life I won't go back to that I don't want to be a different person because of someone I'm with I'd rather keep my problems then pretend to mask them with temporary happiness I'm scared of who I'd become Who I'd be with I can't do that yet, not yet This was really messy and all over the place but that's how I feel about the topic as well Sorry this was a lot, I've just been talking about how I don't do relationships a lot recently but haven't really explained it

[theapplesweremonitored]

Hi there! I had a question. So, I'm on the fence about pro-life/pro-choice. Women's bodies are their own and they should have a say in what happens to them. But...At the same time, they're pregnant with a to-be baby. And I'd really like to see know someone else's view. Like, I said. I'm on the fence and I just want someone else's opinion on the matter. That's, if you don't mind talking about it.

That’s cool, I don’t mind at all! In fact, here’s a few other posts that may be of interest to you and have really shaped my own perceptions.

Tbh, I’m not the most unbiased or, uh, sensitive of people to ask about this, but I suppose that’s the point and I’ll do my best to answer in a way that doesn’t devolve into ranting. (Edit: this got very long and kind of rambling, but hopefully it doesn’t come off as mean.)

First off we need to establish that I’m asexual, aromantic, at times agender, and have less than zero desire to be a part of any stage of the human reproductive process. In all honesty, pregnancy is a very special kind of body-horror to me, and that likely factors into my reaction to the self-styled “pro-life” side. Because, when you get right down to it, much of the “pro-life” side isn’t pro-life, it’s pro-fetus.

You’d think if a person was pro-life, they’d care about, say: the homeless epidemic, or how America likes to march into foreign countries and murder a shit-ton of people, or all the queer/lgbt+ people who are victims of hate crimes. They’d care about people of color who are murdered by the police every day, or the thousands of kids abused by a system meant to protect them, or women (and, of course, others) who are victims of domestic violence or rape culture. But the thing is, a lot of them aren’t.

Because, like I said, a lot of them only care about the fetus, and care nothing for the woman* who’s carrying it. Once that baby is born, they cease giving a fuck because obviously if it’s been born, then their job is done, and they don’t care what happens next. They don’t care if those women carrying the fetus was raped, or got drunk and didn’t use protection, or did absolutely everything “right” and still got pregnant. They don’t care that those women don’t want to be pregnant; those women don’t want to give up forty weeks of their life to what (when you think about it clinically) amounts to a parasite; those women don’t want to give birth; those women don’t want to be responsible for raising a child, and often don’t have the means to do it right.

A frighteningly large amount of “pro-lifers” are white Christians who refuse to acknowledge the complexities of pregnancy, childbirth, and child-rearing. They argue that “life begins at conception” but say nothing about the life or lives that may be ruined by that conception (and subsequent birth). They use the Bible to justify forcing women to carry an unwanted fetus to term, and then also use it to justify hate crimes against queer/LGBT+ people, discriminatory treatment of PoC, and the general subjugation of women. Oh, and we can’t ever forget the Islamophobia and general air of xenophobia that usually accompanies them as well.

In essence, a more accurate description of the pro-life side is anti-choice, because that’s what it comes down to.

Listen, I don’t mean to be a dick about this.

I get that you haven’t made up your mind and that the idea of terminating a potential human being (and I stress this word because like 90% of abortions take place during the first trimester, when it is more accurate to call it an embryo) probably squicks you out.

I totally understand that.

But it’s important to be aware that for a lot of people on the anti-choice side, their little crusade is just another way to express their bigotry and their hatred of women, often queer/LGBT+ women and women of color.

Story time:

My grandmother on my mom’s side got pregnant out of wedlock when she was sixteen. That became my Aunt Dawn (for whom I was named) and she’s the sweetest, most well-meaning woman… maybe not in the world, but that I’ve ever met, certainly. But guess what? Grandma Kathy didn’t want her. She was sixteen, she made a dumbass decision, and didn’t want to have a kid. But you know what her parents did? They told her they were taking her to get an abortion, bundled her up in the car, drove several states away, and dropped her at a “home for fallen women.” They didn’t tell her where they were leaving her, or for how long, or anything. Just that she could come back “home” later. “Later” meaning after she gave birth to my Aunt Dawn.

Listen, I love my Aunt Dawn. Out of literally all of my family, and hoo-boy there’s a lot of them on either side, she’s basically the only one that I even like, let alone love. But my grandma didn’t want my Aunt Dawn and she shouldn’t have been forced to have her. She shouldn’t have been lied to and abandoned and blackmailed into having and raising a child. And it took a toll on her, let me assure you.

Okay, I like my grandma well enough, okay? But she isn’t exactly the healthiest person, she doesn’t have the healthiest relationships, and doesn’t make the healthiest decisions. She’s had five daughters and two sons by several different men, she’s poor and unemployed, and I’m pretty sure she’s had some issues with drinking.

If I were able to go back in time and help her get an abortion, I fucking would. Even knowing that it would mean that me and my sisters and my nephew and my mom and my Aunt Dawn wouldn’t exist, I would still do it. (It sounds terrible, but I don’t care much about my uncles and cousins. They’re all a bunch of fucked up assholes.)

And now let’s talk about my sisters. I have a lot. I have one who got pregnant in her senior year of high school and had to drop out; my nephew is going to be four now in a few months and she’s only just gotten a job that pays a living wage.

I have another who’s currently pregnant and with the guy who knocked her up even though he’s and idiot and an asshole and makes her cry; I fear for the future of both her and the kid that’s on the way because those futures are not gonna be fuckin pretty.

I have two (adopted) sisters who are actually sisters themselves; only half, though, because their dad is a piece of shit who couldn’t keep it in his damn pants and didn’t even try. He’s in prison now and blames his parents for everything that’s gone wrong in his life, up to and including the fact that he isn’t fit to take care of his kids. (I know this because he’s my step-dad’s kid and sent a long series of texts to that effect to my mom a few months ago.) My new little sisters’ moms are both drug addicts who couldn’t be trusted with their daughters. And, of course, my sisters have another sister by another woman (who’d also had drug problems but is now clean and takes care of her daughter) and a brother that I don’t know much about.

And then, of course, there’s my other sisters on the other side of things, who are desperate to have children. I have one who’s been trying with her husband for a couple of years now, who’s had fertility treatments and has visited multiple doctors to try to figure out what’s up with her junk, because we know it’s something but don’t know what. She’s slated for some kind of surgery soon.

I’ve also got another sister, my oldest, who wants kids. She just got married to an old friend of hers who I had never even heard of until I was invited to the wedding. She stayed in a relationship with an abusive ex-Navy Seal for years because he kept dangling the possibility of having kids with her like a fucking carrot. They had physical fights, she had to take all kinds of medication for anxiety and shit, and liked to combine them with alcohol because being in a relationship with him was such a fucking trial on her psyche.

My immediate family alone pretty much runs the gamut of reproductive experiences, barring (to my knowledge) sexual assault and the fact that (to my knowledge) they’re all cis.

What I’m saying is: there’s a lot of shit out there. A lot. There’s girls who got pregnant on accident, and never even consider abortion. There’s girls who got pregnant on accident, and never got access to abortion. There’s girls who want to get pregnant but can’t because of medical reasons. There’s girls who want to get pregnant and men use that to abuse and manipulate them.

I support all of them. I support those that never consider abortions; I support those that want abortions; I support those that want to carry to term; I support those that are desperate to get pregnant in the first place. I support each and every one of them, for all that I am completely unable to empathize with those that want kids in the first place.

I support them because, even though I have no idea what any of that must feel like, it’s their choice and I respect that. Anti-choicers, pro-lifers, whatever you wanna call them, they don’t respect that. They treat pregnancy like it’s the be-all and end-all of human existence and experience. They treat women who get pregnant and want to abort as if they’re stupid, irresponsible, the devil himself, etc.

Now, if you’ve made it all this way, then I’d like to apologize for all the detours and digressions and also congratulate you on getting through them all. As you may have noticed, I’ve got some thoughts on the subject in general as well as some tangentially-personal experience. What it all boils down to is this: while it may affect us, while it may impact the course of our lives, unless it is us who is the one who is pregnant, it’s not our decision. We can have opinions; we can offer advice; we can counsel the one who is pregnant. But, when it comes right down to it, the only one who gets to make the decision of whether to carry to term or abort, is the one who is pregnant.

And, to me, that’s all there is to it.

*not everyone who becomes pregnant is a woman and may be instead nonbinary/genderqueer or a man who was assigned female at birth. However, I very much doubt that someone who cares very little or (more likely) absolutely nothing for a person’s body autonomy will care anything for respecting their gender identity.

#slice of life #anon asks #answered asks #reproductive rights