#if all they cared about was getting people to like rebecca than using her womb as a plot is not a smart move

[saras-almanac]

I am procrastinating actually working on my portfolio so I figured why not write about my frustrations. 

This will surprise no one, but I’m still thinking about the Emmerdale garbage and boring storyline that is Rebecca’s pregnancy. The reason I can’t let this go is just the absolutely lazy writing with it. What exactly was their goal here?

That’s actually a serious question. What were they trying to accomplish? What was the end result? Because how it stands right now, there isn’t one. (Under cut because this is a long slightly rambling thing.)

I have seen a few theories popping up, trying to explain it but that shouldn’t be entirely on the viewer! (I actually wrote about them all in here but it turned into a monster document so I’ll post that later as a random side post.) It’s fun to have theories that we share and try and piece things together, but there still needs to be a base of something. There’s nothing with this storyline.

It literally feels like they wanted us to completely forget the last year or so because if you think about it, it makes absolutely zero sense. I talked a little bit about Robert and the context surrounding the ONS that sort of strains the believability for me. But what I want to talk about is Rebecca.

First of all, if you’re going to impregnate someone, probably best to actually give them a storyline or at least a central voice regarding that pregnancy. Call me a crazed feminist, but if you’re having a woman get pregnant just to fuel a man’s storyline, not a great storyline to have. Even though I hate this storyline, they could have at least pretended to care about Rebecca. I mean, if you’re going down this route, making sure Rebecca actually gets a point of view is slightly crucial. Especially with how desperate IM is for us to love Rebecca. How can we love someone who barely feels like a person more days? Giving us more of her point of view or Robert’s on the actual baby would have helped the disconnect between Rebecca’s storyline and the plot that her womb has created. They have literally separated Rebecca from her own pregnancy storyline.

On that note, why did you have to completely alter her personality and character? Writers, you do remember that this is the same woman who slept with her sister’s boyfriend for an undisclosed amount of time up to and including Chrissie and Robert’s engagement party? Robert is by no means off the hook for this, but they both were present and knowingly doing that. Even when Rebecca came to Emmerdale she came to try and betray her family for Robert.

She’s not this innocent victim—something I thought the show had made pretty clear especially in regards to Rebecca’s relationship to Chrissie. However, that’s the route the show decided to go down post the ONS. It’s ridiculous and honestly a little insulting that they felt the only way to get people on board with this idea is have her be this completely innocent bystander that this pregnancy just happened to. It’s like they introduced Rebecca almost like a female Robert but then tried to transform her into a female Aaron because people love Aaron but it doesn’t work.

The thing is, as frustrating as it was to see Rebecca constantly trying to start things up with Robert again and constantly throwing herself at him, at least she was a fleshed out character then. They could have played with that. They could have used that dynamic that when she found out she was pregnant she decided to keep it just because it might make Robert choose her. Or maybe try to play the longer con of knowing that him and Aaron would probably break up again in the future since that’s sort of their MO and she’s just lying in wait again.

Or maybe she decides this is a chance to start over with someone who will love her unconditionally. Or it’s her way of trying to fill Chrissie’s shoes; she has a baby and lives at home with their dad while trying to learn their business. Or maybe it’s just because she has actually wanted a child for a while but never had a steady enough boyfriend for it to happen.

To be quite honest, the only thing I remember her saying is that she wants to be a mother. That’s great, but then they completely dropped everything that has to do with Rebecca. Vic’s the one putting together the nursery on apparently Robert’s dime. Actually Vic’s the one doing everything. If you’re going this route, then actually go down it and don’t hesitate to show both sides of this argument. It’s especially frustrating because they haven’t really given Robert a chance to figure out how he feels about this potential baby either.

They literally threw this plot together as a way to tie Robert to the Whites forever and be instrumental in booting them from Home Farm. But if you don’t know what your characters want, what their motivations are, then what’s guiding them?

Another point I wanted to come back to regarding Rebecca’s personality is the idea that Rebecca has apparently no more business sense. No sense at all. Wasn’t this the same woman who flew in on a helicopter and had the street smarts to figure our her own way for years? I could understand her struggling a little bit, but not to the extent that they have made her. I’d see her more like Charity when Charity was trying to help Debbie with that business deal—a bit out of her depth and just used to doing things differently. If she’s that bad at it, then why is she running Home Farm? You can’t honestly expect me to believe that Lawrence would have even allowed her to help if she was that awful at it—before his breakdown and break up Ronnie. But that might just be me.

They completely destroyed any potential for her character with this storyline and seem to be confused as to why people are not on board with her. First of all, you used her to break up one of the most supported pairings on the show; that was always going to be a hard thing to come back from. Just on principle alone there’s numerous fans who hate her just for that. Two, you took all her personality away and replaced it with a blinking humainoid whose only purpose seems to be interrupting Robert whenever he’s in a conversation with someone other than her and crying over her dad. We literally had the same scene with her about 15 times. How do they expect us to root for a character that doesn’t seem to actually be a character anymore? As much as I hate this storyline because it’s insulting to so many people on a rather personal level to assume that having a biological child seems to trump any other relationship you might have, there were still ways to have this come about with people still on board with Rebecca. Definitely not everyone, but I’m willing to be there would have been people who at least dealt with her a little bit.

That’s why I’m holding out hope for some sort of twist or scheme that Rebecca’s been planning this whole time. Don’t get me wrong, it would completely suck because they still need to give us something to hold onto regarding this scheme so it doesn’t come completely out of nowhere—unless of course it blindsides her as well. I just don’t want to believe that they would have thrown away all of Rebecca’s character for this.

#emmerdale #robron #rebecca white #if all they cared about was getting people to like rebecca than using her womb as a plot is not a smart move #literally just including rebecca in the plot with her womb would have made her so much better in my mind #but they didn't actually want to give her a storyline #and they wonder why people are just not on board with her #it's ridiculous to me

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 55)

Description: In the aftermath of her daughter’s birth, Alodia fights for her life. 

Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @tigerbryn11​

Chapter 55: Inevitability

Alodia

I felt the static creeping in at the edges of my vision even as I heard the voices around me telling me to push. Michelle. Jake. A thousand ageless, sexless voices belonging to the generations of ghosts manifesting around me. Push. Find a breath somewhere in the suffocating fog, gather together the seeds of strength scattered across a barren landscape and plant them in my core, let my tears be rain to nourish the soil, and push against the determined life tearing me apart in her effort to be free. Then I feel her slip free, and her piercing shriek is like music. She is alive. Unto the world, I delivered the fruit of my womb, and she is free of my body. And when the fog envelops me, I don’t fight it anymore. I’ve earned my rest.

I can feel myself sinking. I can also feel myself buoyed out of freefall by countless arms that ease me gently to the ground.

...Alodia...my daughter…

Vaanu? Father? Is that you?

“Hey. heyheyheyheyhey…” Jake’s fierce whisper close to my face, the repeated syllable sending puffs of warm air over my skin. “Stay with me, Princess.”

Aren’t I here? Aren’t I here with him? Where am I? Where am I going? Sudden awareness of a chill at the back of my neck brings the world sharply into focus. Jake at my head, hunched over me. Estela cradling my feet on her lap. And Michelle beside me, a towel in her hands rubbing down the small, warm body on my chest.

“You’re doing so well, Alodia,” she tells me. “The hardest part is over, but you’re not quite done yet. Placenta should deliver in a few minutes. ...Are you okay if I leave you for a minute to check on Diego?”

“...Diego…? Is he…?”

“He’s injured his shoulder. I’ll take care of him until help arrives. Iris, monitor Alodia and the baby. Keep checking their vitals and sound the alarm if there’s any change.” I am aware of her placing my arms around the body on my chest. “...You hang onto your baby, Alodia.”

...My baby...my daughter…

...My daughter…

Oh, no...please, no...please, leave me alone… Drawing breath feels like trying to suck up ice-cream through a straw. I open my mouth, forcing out a word in a weak exhale.

“...Jake…”

“I’m here. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”

His face is dim and fuzzy above me. But behind him, my father’s ghostly form is bright.

“Alodia. My sweet child…”

No! Jake, don’t leave me! Don’t let me go!

You’re not going anywhere, Princess! I won’t let you!

I’m sinking...

Caleb

I didn’t bother explaining to Ysa what was going on in that house. When we met up with her cousins and brothers, I only assured them that Dragonness and her people were taking care of it, and told them we were getting out of here. They didn’t protest. I don’t know if it’s because they agreed with me, or because they just saw there was no arguing with me, or because they were finally satisfied, or they were just cold and worn out and wanted to be back in the warm van. Unfortunately, when we reach the van, there’s one more obstacle to get past.

“Hi, Dragonness!” RJ calls cheerfully to the masked superhuman leaning casually against the van door. Her hands are folded low in front of her, one ankle crossed over the other. In anyone else, the pose would be non-threatening. But Dragonness isn’t anyone else. I’m pretty confident she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she can definitely keep me from leaving with minimal effort.

“...Thought you were back at the squat,” I say carefully. “...Those people need help.”

“The situation is under control.”

“Is everyone okay who we want to be okay?”

“...I don’t know yet. What I do know is that if you hadn’t have shown up when you did, the situation could have been a lot worse.”

“Didn’t seem like you were that far behind me.”

“In a situation like that, every second counts. ...You know who those people are to me.”

“Yeah. Kind of. I’m pretty sure I picked up the basics.” I pause for a second, trying to get a measure of her intentions. “...Listen, Dragonness...the kids are tired and cold. I’d like to find someplace to put ‘em up for the night, maybe get ‘em something to eat.”

“Let me level with you, Caleb. The authorities are going to be all over this whole thing, and I don’t see a way to keep your name out of it. Me and mine might lie, but I’m willing to bet your...former associates aren’t going to be so accommodating.”

“...So say you lost track of me.”

“I intend to. ...But I don’t want it to be true.”

“Pretty much a given now. Considering you could hold me here with your little finger, it’s really up to you to either let me go or turn me in.”

“...Or I take a third option.”

“What kind of third option?”

She takes a step away from the van. “...You trusted me before, Caleb. I am hoping you will trust me again. I don’t know what will happen in the morning. But I do know somewhere you and the kids can be safe for the night.”

Alodia

Consciousness comes in waves. Between the moments of lucidity there is darkness and silence, but it isn’t sleep. It’s like being shut up in a windowless room. I feel afraid in a distant sort of way. But I am also tired down to the marrow of my bones. Anxiety spikes in consciousness and bleeds out with the tide, leaving exhaustion in its wake. There’s a voice, calm and confident, and commanding my attention.

“My name is Ryan. I’m an EMT, and I’m here to help. Can you tell me your name?”

I hear myself answer, “Alodia…”

“Do you know where you are?”

“...There was a house...it was empty...we hid…”

The warmth on my chest had sunk beneath the threshold of my perception, but its sudden absence is jarring. I hear a tiny whimper and icy fear grips me.

River…

“It’s okay, Princess. She’s here. They’re just keeping her warm.” A painfully bright flash makes my eyes water. I try to close my eyes, but they’re being held open. I push at the hand on my forehead.

“You’re doing really well, Alodia. Can you tell me how you got hurt?”

I fell...I slipped in the dark and I fell down a hill…

I’ve slipped under water. The rushing sound fills my ears and drowns out the voices. I’m in the darkness again. Bone tired and riding a gentle current. Then, flashes of sound and color. Flickering red light. Pressure on my hand.

“...born 42 minutes ago, full term…”

Pain, just a nagging sensation in the background a moment ago, rapidly floods my senses, and I choke on a cry.

“I gotcha, Princess. Just stay with me. I’m right here.”

“Placenta delivered twenty-three minutes ago, apparently complete...laceration on the lower back showing signs of infection…”

I try to roll away from the pain, into the dark and silent waters. But I’m not alone there anymore.

“Alodia,” my father says softly.

No. I can’t go with him. I have to stay with Jake.

“...Fever is 104°...Let’s get a saline drip going. TKO.”

“It’s okay, Alodia.” My father is no longer the ghost I knew on the island. His face is human, the way it was when I saw him in a vision months ago, before I even knew I was pregnant. The fear that grips me at the sight of his face is colder and more visceral than anything I think I have felt before.

No...please. Please don’t take me. Don’t take me back…

“I will not take you back. I don’t have that power. But nor do I have the power to save you. Not on my own. But I may be able to help, if you allow me.” His hands seem to enfold mine. “Trust me, daughter. Please. You must trust me.”

Trust him. As if I have a choice in the matter. I’m terrified and exhausted. Too exhausted to fight. I want to go home. I want to be gathered up and sheltered in a loving embrace. I remember the warmth of Ramona Soto’s arms around me when I was a child, tainted by the distance that formed between us when she turned her back on her son. Sometimes Aunt Molly was tender, too. But she isn’t who my heart aches for now. There’s a word forming in my mind as I look up at the strange face of the long-dead man hovering over me in the darkness. It’s a word that was never mine. But I want to surrender to it. I want to wrap myself up in the word and all the tender love that comes with it.

...Dad...Daddy...I’m scared...

Michelle

Our traveling party has been significantly reduced from when we arrived at the abandoned house, but we still have two rented vehicles that need to be taken back to Northbridge. Sean and I take one, while Estela and Rebecca take the other. We should probably be going home to get some sleep. I think that’s where Estela is going once she drops Rebecca off at the hospital. Back to Quinn, back to her brother and the other Catalysts, back to get everyone up to speed and wait for any more news. No doubt they’ll all be at the hospital at some point in the morning. But I can’t go home just yet. Even if I technically can’t help in any way, I have to be at the hospital with my friends. I don’t even need to ask if Sean feels the same. When I ask him if we should go straight to the hospital, I know the answer even before he nods grimly.

We’re silent as he drives, though he does periodically reach over without taking his eyes off the road to put his hand over mine on the armrest between us. I don’t mind. I’m stewing in the knowledge that Jake--and the rest of us--could easily lose Alodia in the next few days. I find it hard to object to my husband reminding me that he’s alive beside me.

I don’t really notice that he’s slowed down until he pulls over and stops on the shoulder of the road.

“Sean? What’s wrong?” I glance at the dashboard, trying to discern if there’s a mechanical problem. Sean hesitates for a moment before spreading his fingers and pressing his palms into the steering wheel.

“Look...feel free to tell me to piss off and keep driving, but...I would really like to kiss you right now.”

Worried and exhausted as I am, I can’t hold back a smile. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss right about now.”

We lean in and he takes my face in his hands as our mouths meet. I am a little surprised at how gentle he is being. I remember the way he kissed me for days after the showdown between Dragonness and Prescott, the fierce need in the way he pressed his mouth to mine. This is different. This is...more like the way he kissed me on our wedding day, just a few weeks ago. Tender. Loving. A kiss that makes me feel like we’re the only two people in the world.

“You’re kissing me like you love me,” I murmur.

“I do. I adore you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now.”

“What makes you say that?”

He touches his forehead to mine. “...What I saw you do back there in that house…”

“Aww. Did seeing me delivering a baby make you sentimental?”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t just that. Alodia was sick. Diego was hurt. Alodia was having a baby. You were the only doctor there. But you were calm. You got help where you needed it. You made calm out of chaos.”

“...That’s my job, Sean. I’m a doctor. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared.”

“I know all that. Doesn’t make it less impressive. ...You’re a great doctor, Michelle. And hell, I’ll just say it: you’re my hero.”

I can’t help myself. I grin as I kiss him again. “You know, the only reason I’m not laughing at your corniness is because I know you mean it. Which just makes you more adorable.”

He keeps my face in his hands as he nuzzles my forehead with his. “...Do...do you think they’ll be okay?”

I swallow a bitter taste at the back of my throat. “...Diego should be fine, I think. The baby seems healthy. ...Alodia...it’s a little more uncertain.” I take his hands in mine, pulling back to meet his eyes in the light from the dashboard. “It will depend on how much the infection has spread, if it’s damaged any internal organs...whether there are any post-partum complications…”

He nods, squeezing my hands. “...I...guess we should get to the hospital. Be there for them.”

“Yeah…”

He releases my hands and turns his attention back to the car. He puts the gear shift back into drive and pulls away from the curb. We’re silent as he navigates the dark road ahead, and I don’t distract him by reaching over to stroke his arm or shoulder. But it doesn’t feel like we’re distant at all. Being beside him now, I feel as close to him as if I were in his arms without enough space between us for a hair to pass through.

Alodia

I don’t know how much time passes in the fog of light and noise and pain that I find myself dragged through. I am aware of things in bits and pieces. I don’t remember arriving at the hospital, but I find myself there, under harsh fluorescent lights, my nose assaulted by the sharp antiseptic odor. At some point, I realize River isn’t there, and I hear myself call out to her.

“It’s okay, Alodia,” Jake murmurs, his breath warm on my ear. “They’re just checking her over. They’ll bring her back to us soon.”

I’m cold. The air feels too close to my skin. I think I might be naked. I want to move to cover myself, but I am not sure where the surface is that’s supporting me, or whether I’m even upright or lying down. I do feel Jake’s arms around me, and I cling to him for dear life, even as I feel him gently manipulating my limbs.

“That’s it, Princess. Good girl. I gotcha. I’m right here.”

I open my eyes and find myself on a gurney, the filthy gray sweatshirt I had been wearing replaced by a thin hospital gown. Jake is still beside me, but now he’s wearing a mismatched set of scrubs. Pain flares in my spine, white-hot and intense enough to make my stomach turn. I hear myself make a noise like a wounded animal. I feel the pressure of Jake’s grip on my hand, and his cool fingers raking gently through my hair, soothing an intense itch that I hadn’t realized was there.

“Look at me, Alodia. Look at me.” His voice is gentle, but it brooks no argument. I force myself to meet his eyes. “That’s my girl. You’re doing great. Listen...this next part isn’t gonna be pleasant. You got a really nasty wound they gotta take care of, and you also had some tearing during delivery that they say is gonna need a couple stitches. They’re gonna numb you up so you won’t feel the worst of it, but that part ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, either.”

His words don’t help the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel my eyes burning. I’m scared. I’m so scared, and I’m so tired of being scared. It all must show on my face, because Jake’s mouth twists into a grimace as he brings my hand up to hold against the rough, days-old beard that darkens his cheek.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But you can do this. I know you can. You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known.”

I can’t see my father just now, but I know he’s here. He’s hovering over me and Jake, equal parts a comforting, paternal presence and a frightening spectre I’m terrified has come to take me to whatever afterlife is waiting for me. I grip Jake’s hand.

“Don’t let me go.” My throat is so dry that it seems to chafe with the effort of speaking. The effort of drawing breath is rewarded with needling pain at scattered points on my torso. But Jake tightens his grip and bends to kiss my temple.

“I gotcha, Princess. I ain’t leaving.” The air around me shifts abruptly, and Jake’s grip on my hand tightens with anxiety. Something terrible is about to happen.

Sleep now, my daughter. It will be better if you sleep.

“Look at me, Alodia,” Jake says again. Again, I am compelled to obey, and I look into the depths of his clear blue eyes. “That’s it. Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t look anywhere else. Just look at me.”

But as the pain washes through me in a heady wave, I can’t help but break my gaze. I hear myself moan and Jake seems to press closer to me, even as the rest of the world is falling away again.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m right here. Just stay with me…”

Grayson

My family has a luxury mountain cabin a little ways upstate. Dad hasn’t been there since Mom died, but once I was old enough to drive, I took over the upkeep and used it for my own private getaway. In college, I always had friends over to the cabin for spring break, and for summer parties. Tahira and Poppy were both frequent guests back then. I haven’t been back since before the gala that changed everything, but I keep it well maintained enough that when Tahira contacts me to ask if Caleb and his runaway children can stay there for a night, I don’t have any qualms about saying yes. Since everything is remotely connected, I am able to unlock the door and turn on the lights and the heat from my apartment. The local town doesn’t have a late-night grocery store, but I do put in an order for delivery from a nearby Chinese restaurant with instructions to leave it in the kitchen.

I don’t hear anything for a couple of hours, and in the meantime, I can’t sleep. I’m sitting up at my kitchen table with a mug of decaf when I hear the tapping at my balcony door. Tahira, in full Dragonness garb, waits for me on the balcony, squeezed into the shadow in the corner to avoid the beam of the outdoor lights. In a big city and a big apartment complex like this, one never knows who might be up late and watching, curious about who Dragonness is visiting at this hour. I flip off the outdoor light before I unlock the door and let her in.

I barely have the door open wide enough for her to slip through before she pounces on me, kissing furiously with her fingers raking through my hair. I push back, wrapping an arm around her waist as I stumble around to blindly push the door closed. I’ll worry about the latch in a minute. Right now, I am aware that my girlfriend is hovering an inch or so off the carpet as she presses her hips against me, one hand tugging at the belt of my bathrobe. My hands are at her back, groping for the mechanized clasp of her supersuit, but I resist tapping it just yet.

“Tahira… your wound. ...Is it safe to…?”

She hesitates, pulling back just a little. “I...think so…” But her feet sink into the carpet again as she presses her forehead to mine and reluctantly adds, “But maybe I should wait until a doctor clears me. I mean, it’s gotten a lot better...but I don’t know. I’ve never been stabbed before.”

I pull back enough to remove the mask from her eyes and brush the dark wisps of hair off her forehead. I lean in and kiss the spot between her eyebrows, then each eyelid in turn, the tip of her nose, and her mouth.

“...I missed you,” I murmur.

“I missed you, too. In case you couldn’t tell.”

I lace my fingers together at the small of her back. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“How about a shower and a change of clothes?”

“I’m set up for that, too. Actually did a load of some of your stuff just yesterday.”

She snorts lightly. “I’ve got enough clothes here for a load? Might as well be living here.”

“...Might as well be,” I murmur. “...But that’s a discussion probably best saved for later. Did Caleb and the kids get settled in okay?”

“Yeah. Hopefully they’re still there in the morning. I don’t know what we’ll do if they aren’t. Don’t know what we’ll do if they are, either.”

“We’ll come up with something. I promise. You’re the Hero of Northbridge, and I’m the son of the city’s most powerful billionaire captain of industry. Between us, there have to be some strings we can pull to keep the kids together and Caleb out of prison.”

“You’re basically the head of Prescott Industries now,” she points out. “And you’ve got a lot more goodwill than your father. ...I’m honestly less worried about how we’re going to keep the kids together than I am about the whole Caleb situation. I don’t just want him out of prison, I want him on the right side of the law. And that’s going to take a lot of compromise.”

“We’ll figure it out. For now, you need to rest.”

She sighs, wrapping her arms around me and letting her head fall onto my shoulder. “...Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. ...For what?”

“For not asking why I care what happens to Caleb.”

I kiss her hair, letting my cheek rest against her head. “I don’t have to ask why, Tahira. Even if I don’t know. I trust your instincts. If you think he’s worth caring about, I believe it.”

“...I hope my instincts aren’t wrong about him. Because I have a feeling I can’t shake that we’re going to need him on our side in the future.”

Diego

My arrival at the hospital is a whirlwind of doctors and nurses asking questions, taking pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, and sticking me here and there to collect blood samples, place an IV for fluids, and pump painkillers into the space between my shoulder joint and my arm bone before they attempt to put the two back together.

Having my dislocated shoulder put back in its socket is not the most pleasant experience, but it’s also not as bad as I would have anticipated, especially once the painkillers set in. I feel a little heady, but there’s no violent wrenching motion to force it back into place like they show in the movies. It’s a lot more slow and gentle. Having Varyyn there to hold my good hand goes a long way, too. I really haven’t thanked Dax enough for his Christmas present.

I don’t exactly feel the bone slip back into place the moment it happens, but I do feel the pain start to ebb away almost immediately, and exhale with relief. The doctor smiles down at me.

“Think that did it. How do you feel?”

“Waaay the heck better,” I reply languidly.

“That’s what we like to hear. I’m just going to get a sling on you, and send a nurse to take you to your bed. We’re gonna keep you overnight, just for observation, but I’m optimistic you’ll be discharged tomorrow.” He pauses a moment, glancing at Varyyn. “I know you two live out-of-state. Do you have friends in the area who could put you up for a night or two after discharge? I don’t want you to have to rush your travel plans to get home.”

“We have a number of friends in the area,” Varyyn confirms. “And we certainly won’t be going home before Alodia and her baby are discharged as well.”

“Alodia is our friend who came in with us,” I explain when it’s clear the name doesn’t ring a bell with the doctor. “Or probably a little before us. Alodia Chandler. She had a newborn baby. A little girl. ...She was hurt. A cut on her back that got infected.”

The doctor’s eyes flicker with a brief spark of recognition, and he nods. “Ahh. Of course. I remember her coming in.”

“Do you know where she is?” I ask anxiously. “Do you know if she’s okay?”

“I haven’t heard anything since she came in. But she and the baby would have been taken up to the mother and baby unit.”

“Would I be able to see her?”  

“Right now, you would be better off getting some rest.”

“That’ll be easier if I know what’s going on with my friend,” I point out. The doctor nods, reaching out to pat my good shoulder.

“Tell you what. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll see what I can find out. It’s quite likely she’s not ready for visitors herself yet, but would it help if I could get you an update?”

“Yeah, it would. Thanks.”

The doctor’s assurance is enough to keep me satisfied for a little while. I don’t badger the orderly who comes to take me to my room. It’s early morning by now, and the sunlight is streaming through the window. The orderly draws the curtains as I settle into bed. Varyyn sits down in a chair beside me and takes my good hand. When the orderly leaves, I roll my head to look at him.

“You’ll be more comfortable in the bed, you know.”

“...Is that permitted?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. At the moment, I don’t really care. If it’s not, we’ll stop when they tell us we have to stop. And I really want you to hold me right now.”

“I’m not very much inclined to argue. I want to hold you.”

He slips off his shoes and lies down beside me, holding me gently. I let my head rest on his shoulder. I feel safe in his arms. For a while, I can almost pretend that he and I are back in our bed in California. But I think the truth of where we really are and what’s really happening is pretty inescapable, because the dreams that take over once I’ve drifted off are anything but safe and peaceful. I wake up with every muscle in my body cramping around my thumping heart and the fading image of angry wasps droning around me. My own sharp gasp is already a vague memory as Varyyn’s soft lips brush my forehead and cheek.

“Shhh. You’re safe, my darling. I’m here.”

The sun is still up, but the light isn’t streaming through the window anymore. “How...how long was I…?”

“Only a few hours, my love.”

“Hours…? But...Allie. What did…?”

“The staff could not say much. But Sean and Michelle spoke to Jake. River is well and healthy. She is in a room with her parents.”

I want to smile at the thought. But the fact that Varyyn started with River’s condition is enough to tell me that her mother isn’t as well and healthy as she is. “Varyyn…”

Varyyn knows what I want him to tell me. He sighs, kissing my forehead. “Alodia’s wound has been treated. The tearing she sustained during delivery has been stitched. The infection is being treated with antibiotics. But...it is simply too early to tell if she will be alright.”

I gulp against the choking sensation in the back of my throat, biting my lip in an effort not to let out the anguished howl I can feel clawing its way up from my chest. I can’t stop the tears from dripping down my cheeks, but I am not going to wail like a banshee in the middle of a hospital.

“I should have gone for help,” I whisper when I can speak again. “I shouldn’t have waited. I should have gone when I knew she was sick…”

“That would have meant leaving her alone with enemies in pursuit when she could not defend herself. You did the best you could in an impossible situation.”

“She might die, Varyyn. River might never know her mother. Jake might lose his wife again…”

Varyyn kisses my cheek. “Diego, everyone knows how much you love her. No one doubts that you did everything in your power to protect her as best you could.”

I roll away from him as best as my injured shoulder will allow. I feel him withdraw just a little, feel his hesitation, and guilt pricks at me. He’s right. In my heart I know he’s right. But that knowledge isn’t enough to cut through the fear that encases me.

“...It won’t matter if she dies,” I say after a protracted silence. “...If she dies, it won’t matter how much I love her or if I did everything I could. She’ll still be dead.”

“Perhaps not. Not right away.” He hesitantly strokes my hair, and when I don’t pull away, he continues. “...But don’t bury her before she is gone. Hold onto hope as long as we have it.”

Alodia

I know that I am a ghost. But I don’t care. I’m home on La Huerta. The place where I was born. And for a moment, that is all I need. But then I see my friends. Jake, Sean, Craig, and Estela. All four are battered and bruised. Estela’s expression is stoically grim, but I know her well enough to see fear in her dark eyes. Sean and Craig are doing a worse job of hiding their anxiety, though they still seem to be holding it together. I guess they think they have to for Jake. Jake’s face is breaking my heart. He’s not crying just now, but his eyes are swollen and rimmed in red, and his face is splotched red with tears. He looks down as he walks, hunched and shaking like a terrified little boy.

Across from them are Diego, Varyyn, Michelle, and Raj. Diego breathes shallowly as he regards the other foursome.

“Where is Allie?” he asks, his voice low and trembling.

Sean answers the question, even though Diego is looking at Jake. Jake raises his eyes to meet Diego’s hard gaze, and there is guilt there. I don’t hear Sean explaining. But I know what he’s saying. They don’t know where I am. I fell from the chopper and they haven’t found me yet. Diego’s fear and grief burn into anger and he flies at Jake.

“You were supposed to take care of her! You let her die!”

Jake doesn’t fight back. He barely flinches to protect himself. Varyyn grabs his lover to hold him back.

“Diego! Diego, stop! She isn’t dead!”

I am, though. I want to tell Varyyn that I am. ...But I’m not. I’m standing at the Threshold, staring numbly down at the eleven graves. I look down at my hands. Wrinkled and papery, speckled with liver spots. But both of them flesh. I’m not the Endless. The Endless is in front of me.

“This is where we’re always going to end up,” she says mournfully. “This is the fate I cannot protect you from. It may be tomorrow, or it may be ninety years from now. But you will always live to see the last one die.”

“...They were protecting me.” I raise my eyes to meet her face. “...That’s what I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I watched them die to protect me.”

“You will always live to see the last one die.” She reaches out to cup my cheek in her good hand. “...Unless you die first…”

I can still feel her bony fingers against my cheek, but I am no longer at the Threshold. I recognize this place. I have danced on this stage for years. This is the stage at the performing arts center where my dance school’s showcases, workshops, and recitals have been held since I was a four-year-old ballerina, feeling like a princess in my shimmering purple tutu with a plastic tiara bobby-pinned to my head. It is familiar, but somehow wrong. Distorted. I shouldn’t be here, waiting in the wings like this. I haven’t been a student in years. I don’t know my choreography. I am in sweatpants, without dance shoes or stage makeup, and my hair is a tangled mess. And I am pregnant. I am sure of it. What other explanation could there be for the potbelly pushing against the waistband of my sweatpants, and the movement behind my navel? But even that feels wrong. Vague memories tell me that I am nearly ready to give birth, but my belly feels too small. The child’s movements are sharp and erratic.

But ready or not, I am pushed onto the stage. Harsh white lights turn the audience into a faceless dark sea that swims beyond the polished lip of the apron. Music floats up from beneath my feet. The Doll Dance. This is the Doll Dance. I have to push.

I don’t have time to question. My Catalysts are rushing in to surround me, all cradling shapeless bundles as they move through something that vaguely resembles the Doll Dance. I lie down on my back and open my legs.

“The doll is almost here!” Michelle sings from between my knees. Diego giggles, flitting between Jake and me, tapping us in turn.

“Daddy Ballerina, Mommy Ballerina!” He laughs wildly, and taps his own head. “Skinny Ballerina!”

Jake laughs with him, and taps my nose. “Princess Ballerina!” Then he and Diego laugh together, the sound morphing into a shrieking cackle as I feel a sudden emptiness in my belly.

“Baby Ballerina!” Michelle crows.

“Where is she?!” I hear myself cry. “Where is River?”

I can’t find her. I am on my feet, rushing around the stage, searching for the baby that was just torn bloodlessly out of me. The Catalysts plié right and left, shading their eyes as they search the darkness of the house.

“Where is River?” They sing in one voice. “Where is River?”

I can’t find her. I can’t find my baby.

“Oh me, oh my! Oh me, oh my!” The Catalysts jump from first position to second, scrubbing at their eyes.

I leap off the stage, into the house. I know where my baby is. The doors at the back of the house are open, and I can see the swaddled bundle in a cone of light at the end of the aisle. I scoop her up, and I feel my heart sink. The cloying face of a plastic baby doll peers up at me with unblinking eyes of blue glass, chubby plastic cheeks tinged red, lips permanently parted in a toothless, saccharine smile...

I’m going to be sick. No sooner have I realized this than there is a bowl under my jaw, and an unfamiliar pair of arms wrapped around my chest from behind, holding me upright. I want to fight their grip, but painful spasms wrenching through my midsection distract me from any potential escape attempts. A sour-tasting wave of liquid fire bubbles up my throat and sloshes out from between my lips.

“You’re okay, Princess. Just let it all up.”

“J-Jake…?” I croak weakly, barely able to raise my eyes to his face before another acid wave splashes into the bowl.

“Shhhhh. I’m right here. Everything’s okay.”

Everything is clearly not okay. But I don’t have the strength to worry about more than emptying my stomach right now. When that’s done, I sink limply back onto the pillow, shivering as Jake dabs at my forehead with a sponge.

“Here…” I open my eyes as I feel something poking at my lips and find a straw. “Have a little water.”

I obediently close my lips around the straw and take a few cautious sips as I take stock of myself. I hurt. That much I realize right away. My back and between my legs are the worst of it, but most of me aches like I had every muscle in my body clenched at the same time. I know where I am, even before I realize that the unfamiliar arms that held me up belong to a nurse. A few gaps aside, I know what happened before I arrived at the hospital. But there is an image in my mind of a plastic doll swaddled in my arms.

“R-River...Jake, where…?”

“She’s here, Princess.” I hear his voice catch, and I manage to look up at him to see a shaky smile on his lips. “...She’s perfect…”

“C-can I see her?”

“Of course. Doctor says you might even be able to feed her later if you were up to it.”

Jake looks somewhere to his side, and I crane my neck to follow his gaze. I can just about make out the bassinet at the end of the room, and the nurse bending over to carefully collect the yellow-swaddled contents. For a moment, my stomach lurches again. I’m not entirely convinced that the nurse is not about to hand me a plastic doll. But then the bundle squirms and whimpers. The nurse passes the bundle to Jake, who gently places our daughter beside me on the bed, keeping his hands on her for support.

The chubby face that peeks out from a cocoon of yellow blanket and a pink crocheted hat is no plastic doll’s face. She’s been cleaned since she was born, but her little face is still rosy over a warm complexion. Above a pudgy little chin, tiny pink lips are drawn into a pout that shows off their perfect cupid’s bow. Her round little nose wrinkles as if she smells something foul and her eyes are puffy around the edges. But then her eyes open, blue as sapphires, and her gaze cuts through the feverish haze the clouds my head. I carefully place a shaking hand on her chest, stroking her lightly through the blanket.

“Hello, River Skye McKenzie,” I murmur. I feel the corners of my mouth lifting into a feeble smile. “Aren’t you the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

“She’s an angel,” Jake agrees. “Here, take a look at this.” He gently pulls off her little crocheted cap, revealing a fine layer of downy chestnut hair. I bite my lip, feeling tears pooling in my eyes.

“...How did we live so long without her?”

“The same way we lived without each other: incompletely.”

I raise my eyes to his face. Something cold has begun to thread through my veins. “...Jake...is she real?”

Jake’s expression falters just for a moment. “Of course she’s real, Princess.”

“I...I think I was dreaming. ...I found my baby, but she was just a doll…”

Jake’s face softens as he brings up a hand to stroke my hair. “It was just a dream.”

“...I’m afraid of my dreams. I’m afraid to go to sleep again. I’m afraid that when I wake up, she will be gone…”

“I won’t let her disappear.”

“...What if you’re gone, too?”

He presses his lips to my forehead, holding them there for a long moment. Long enough for me to realize how much his breath is shaking. When he pulls back to smile at me, his eyes sparkle.

“Then I’ll fight until I’m at your side again. Isn’t that what we do, Princess? They pull us apart, and we fight like hell until we’re back together?”

Even heady with fever as I still am, I hear the catch of desperation in his voice, the pleading note under his fierce words. He is as scared as I am. He is scared that he is watching me fade. He is scared that he’s watching me die.

...I will live to see the last one die. Unless I die first.

Aleister

How to describe the moment when I see my wife descending Castor’s boarding stairs. I hear myself speak her name, but it comes out as a gasp as I start toward her. The moment her foot hits the tarmac, she breaks into a run, arms outstretched. We meet in a small collision, arms closing around one another in vise-like grips. I feel my throat tighten as I rest my cheek on the top of her head, savoring the familiar texture of her narrow braids on my skin, and the sweet scent of her honeysuckle lotion. It has not been two days since last I saw her, but it feels like a lifetime. From the strength of her grip, I can tell she feels the same.

“...You didn’t bring Reggie…?” she asks after a moment.

“He’s at home with Estela and Quinn. I am fairly certain that looking after him is all that is keeping Estela from getting herself arrested for disorderly conduct by marching down to the police station to threaten those cunts who attacked Alodia and Diego at the abandoned house.”

I feel Grace pause for a moment. “...That’s strong language for you, honey.”

“...Can we agree that I am justified under the circumstances?”

“Absolutely. ...How are they?”

“Diego has a dislocated shoulder, but he should heal. Thus far, it also seems that the baby is well and healthy. Alodia is being treated, but it is simply too soon to know how she will respond.”

“...I think she will be fine,” Grace says decidedly. “She knows how much she’s needed. She won’t let a little infection beat her.”

“I sincerely hope you are right.” I keep an arm over her shoulders as I begin to steer us toward the car. “...I don’t suppose you learned anything of interest from your mother? Anything about where Father was planning to take them, or what he intended to do with them? Even if...when...Alodia recovers, this is far from over.”

“...I did learn a few things,” she confirms, though she waits until we are in the car to continue. “She has reason to believe Rourke has a base in the Greek Islands. Specifically Ithaca.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Of course it would be Ithaca,” I mutter.

“But that’s not all. Aleister, I think Yvonne is alive.”

Jake

The minutes and hours melt into each other while my wife is sick. The world tunnels and fills with static at the edges. All I can focus on is her. My princess. My princess and the little angel in the bassinet at the foot of her bed. I almost never don’t have one of them in my arms. Except when Rebecca or Michelle or my mother force me to get some sleep on the couch. I don’t generally fight them on it. One of the advantages to Alodia being in a maternity suite is that the couch is in the same room, a feature that surely exists for anxious partners waiting out a long labor.

I don’t know exactly when my mother and father arrived with Alodia’s aunt and uncle, Diego’s parents, and Raj. I know it was sometime after Alodia gave River her first feeding. It was mostly successful. Lots of pillows and my hands helped to keep River safe and supported, even with her mother feeling as weak as she is. I helped the nurse bathe her in a process that seemed like a compromise between a sponge bath in bed and a full shower, with Alodia seated on the shower seat while I helped wipe her down and rub dry shampoo into her hair. By the time that was done, the fever seemed to have sapped her strength again because I almost had to carry her back to bed. By the time her bandage had been changed, she’d slipped back into a fitful sleep. She hadn’t awakened yet when the anxious faces of our families appeared in the doorway.

I don’t really like all our folks being here. I don’t like the way Alodia’s aunt and uncle are hovering over her bed like loving parents, kissing her hands and stroking her hair. I like it even less when Diego’s parents do it--especially because I know from Raj that they’ve been decidedly cool to their own son since meeting his husband. I don’t even like the way my own parents are hovering right now, trying to help me with River. I don’t want help with River. Not yet. I don’t really want anyone but me and Alodia touching her right now. Somehow, letting someone else change her diaper or rock her to sleep makes me feel like I’m letting Alodia’s nightmares come true. Like somehow letting someone else touch her will turn her into the doll Alodia dreamed she was.

...I know it’s irrational. Especially because I don’t feel the same fear when one of the Catalysts offers their help. Knowing that it’s irrational doesn’t stop me from feeling the fear. A part of me feels guilty for it. But the fear holds on.

At some point after drifting into a doze on the couch, I hear familiar voices over my head. I’m not sure if I’m mostly awake or if I’m deep asleep and dreaming when I hear them, but I know the voices, and their words are clear.  

“If the worst happens,” Diego says softly, “...will he have it in him to look after her?”

“Of course he will,” Rebecca replies. “He’ll need her more than ever.”

“...I watched my best friend grow up knowing she wasn’t wanted by the people who were raising her. People who took her in because they didn’t want to lose the last piece of her mother that they had. ...I don’t want to watch the same thing happen to her daughter.”

“Diego. Trust me. If the worst happens, River will be what keeps him alive.”

By the time I come fully awake, Diego and Rebecca are gone, replaced by Molly and Rob. Both Alodia and River are asleep. Molly sits at Alodia’s bedside stroking her arm, while Rob stares stoically out the window with his arms folded. Both of them melt into the scenery as I approach my wife and take hold of her hand. No matter how many people are around us, when I hold her hand, it’s just me and her. I sink into the chair, gripping her hand in both of mine and kissing her fingers.

“Stay with me, Princess,” I whisper. My chest is tight. I feel like it’s been tight for ages. I feel like I’ll never breathe free again, but I know I will if only she gets better. “You’re doing great, Alodia. Just hold on. Just keep fighting. Please...I...I can’t lose you again…”

“No one is going to lose Alodia,” Rob mutters. The reminder of his presence sends irritation threading through me, but I let it go.

“She’s a fighter,” Molly agrees. “She always has been.”

“She’s going to bury us all,” Rob adds with conviction. Now I properly grimace. It’s all I can do not to deck him. Instead, I press my lips hard to my wife’s fingertips, screwing my eyes shut as I exhale to a count of ten.

“Do me a favor,” I growl without looking at him. “Never say that in front of me, or her, or any of our friends.”

“...I...what? ...Why?”

“...If you’d been on the island, you’d understand. You just gotta trust me on this one.” I give Alodia’s hand another kiss and stand up, moving to gaze down at my daughter, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. I reach down to stroke the back of her tiny hand, soft and delicate as a rose petal.

I’ll never leave you, Angel. It’s a silent promise, but I mean it with all my heart. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.

Slowly, though, the cloud of fear and uncertainty hanging over my family begins to dissipate as modern medicine starts to do its job. Alodia’s fever starts to dwindle. And three days after the birth of our child, it breaks.

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #Endless Summer #hero #playchoices

[petri808]

Happy Halloween!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

*Bonus Halloween chapter* it’s longer than normal (2k)

The biggest party in Tokyo was for a western holiday called Halloween, and the streets surrounding the heart of Shibuya that Saturday were literally crawling with a million young adults in every kind of costume you could imagine! Most of the revelers had no idea as to the origins of this holiday. All they cared about was dressing up and having a good time, including Lucy and her friends who’d dressed up as their favorite manga characters from Eden’s Zero. The businesses lining the streets in the area were used to the onslaught and welcomed it because it meant a nice chunk of revenue, while authorities did their best to control the crowds.

The group started off with Lucy, Levy, Erza, Gajeel, and Gray, but over time as others showed up or they ran into more friends, the groups numbers ebbed and flowed. Gray was the first to take off to meet his girlfriend Juvia, and once Natsu was off of work and joined them, Lucy and he split off to cruise by themselves for a while.

“Wow it’s so eerie how much you guys look like Shiki and Rebecca!”

“Thanks Mira,” Lucy blushes.

“Tch, I may look like the guy, but I’m not as dopey as him,” Natsu retorts. “He’s taking too damn long to make it official with Rebecca.”

“Don’t mind him,” Lucy giggles, “Natsu ships Shicca hard. But it’s even funnier to watch him and Gray argue over Weiszmura.”

“That’s because Gray is a blind bat who won’t admit they match!”

“Okay,” Mira laughs, “put the canons away. Are you two gonna check out the BUMP party at Womb nightclub?”

“Maybe a little later.” Lucy answers for them. “I heard they had some decent bands this year, but I’d rather go somewhere a little smaller like Sonidos.”

“Oh, yeah? Lisanna’s boyfriend Bixlow is the DJ there tonight.”

Lucy looks to Natsu, “we definitely should stop by and say hi.”

“Agreed.”

“Well it was nice bumping into you. I need to meet up with Laxus so you two have fun! I’ll catch you later!” Mira waves as she rejoins the flood of passerby’s.

Natsu takes Lucy’s hand and the couple continued walking around with no real destination. They stop in open stores to browse or grab yummy-looking finger foods from street vendors along the way. Despite the chaos around them, this was turning into a nice reprieve from their daily lives. It was already 1 am, but from the amount of activity going on, it was easy to lose track of time.

“Look, look,” Lucy points while dragging Natsu with her. “Photo booth!”

“Aww, really?” He whines, though the smile never wavered on his face.

“Yup!” She pulls him in and fishes out a bill from her wallet for the machine.

“Chi-zu!”

The pair chuckle and pose for the five shutter clicks. Each pose varying until the last one ending with a kiss from Natsu and genuinely surprised expression on Lucy’s face. It wasn’t their first kiss, but this would be a memorable one. For a few seconds as the machine printed out the slip of photos, Natsu holds her gaze, sweeping his thumb gently along her flushed cheek. There was a sense of intimacy in these confined booths where many a couple had hidden away from the public for this very kind of very moment.

“Thank you,” he smiles, eyes soft and pure of appreciation.

“For what?” Genuinely unsure of the reason.

“Giving me a second chance. These past few months have been the happiest times of my life and it’s all thanks to meeting you on that train.”

“I’m really glad too,” Lucy smiles sweetly. “Really... really glad,” she breathes out as she moves in to kiss him again.

“Excuse me?” A loud knocking sound stops them. “There’s other people waiting to use the machine!”

“Whoops. To be continued,” she gives Natsu just a quick peck and the pair get out of the booth. They apologize to the next group in line and race off hand in hand, laughing. That had been exhilarating!

Lucy’s heart was still racing even though they were long gone from the photo booth. She and Natsu had been taking things extra slow because of her earlier concerns. Aside from dates and a few kisses here and there, they’d never gone much further and she wondered who was the one holding back. Was it really her or was it actually him because he was too nervous to lose her? Tonight... in that booth... if they weren’t in public... her body flushes wildly just from the thought of it. Okay, so maybe she’s been dying to take their relationship further. Maybe not sex— yet, soon, or maybe... ‘argh! Not now!’ Lucy scolds her libido. But a make out session was a very tempting idea!

They check out Lisanna and Bixlow for a short time at Sonidos, before briefly hooking back up with Levy and Gajeel for some crepes. That’s when Levy quietly informs Lucy that she’ll be crashing at her boyfriend’s house instead of going back to the dorm. “You know... for some privacy,” the girl winks at Lucy. “Hint. Hint!”

“I-It’s too soon for that! W-with us,” her tips burn with lies through each syllable.

“Pfft, you can’t lie that you’ve never thought about it.”

“No... not all the way...”

“Uh-huh. Well, do whatever,” she winks a second time and stands up to leave. “See ya in tomorrow night.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

“Why are your ears all red?” Natsu asks Lucy.

Lucy stiffens up. “N-Nothing important.”

“Oh... okay,” he smiles. “So whatdya wanna do next?”

“Actually, I’m kinda getting tired already.” It was after 3 am and they’d been out and on their feet for over seven hours.

Natsu sighs relief. “Me too! I just didn’t wanna ruin your fun. Shall I take you home?” He squeezes her hand with a smile.

“Yes,” she returns the squeeze, “and if you’d like you can spend the night— I-I mean since you’re tired and all! I’d just feel better than making you back track.”

“I’ll behave, I promise.”

The couple ride the train the short distance between Shibuya and Shinjuku to where Lucy’s dorm is located, cautious of the other riders on the train. Even though alcohol is not allowed on the streets during Halloween, it didn’t stop people from getting drunk and few creepy peepers kept looking at Lucy. But luckily, the train wasn’t very packed despite the holiday because the Shibuya party wasn’t over till 4am and they beat the end rush. On the way, Natsu texts his roommate out of courtesy, only to find out that Gray and Juvia were already at the apartment. Figures. Well it was a good thing he wasn’t walking into that situation! Even if nothing happened, just watching Juvia fawning all over Gray wouldn’t have been appealing. Once they arrive at the dorms, they make sure no one had followed and proceed inside.

Lucy leaves Natsu in the small living room as she changes out of her costume and into something a lot more comfortable. He was lucky the men’s costume was still semi-normal and he only had to remove the jacket and goggles for comfort, but the black hair dye will wash out in a week. She then grabs them a couple bottles of melon milk tea before joining him on the couch. Thank goodness, they didn’t have school, or he didn’t work the next day.

“That was fun,” Lucy curls against his arm with a yawn. “So, tiring though.”

“I haven’t been to Shibuya’s party in a couple of years, but it sure hasn’t changed,” Natsu chuckles. He leans his head against hers while threading their fingers together. “Totally agree on being tired. It probably wouldn’t be as bad if I hadn’t worked too.”

A companionable silence falls over the couple for a few minutes and after some time Natsu assumed Lucy had fallen asleep resting on his shoulder. He would have stayed in that position till his ass was numb if it kept her relaxed. This beauty queen deserved it and more, and he meant every word he’d told her earlier. The second chance had become a cosmic wish come true and he’d be damned to let anything ruin this between them.

“Hey Natsu?”

“Yeah Luce?”

“Do you think we could pick up from where we left off... in that photo booth?”

He swallows hard. It was one thing in the heat of the moment, but quite another to put aside his nerves now that they were so relaxed. This was a different kind of intimacy and much more intimidating to say the least. A private apartment without anything or anyone to interrupt or stop two consenting adults from going too far... and the last thing he wanted to do was something wrong! A regretted decision would destroy everything built up until that moment. But he couldn’t tell her no either!

Sensing the turmoil, Lucy sits up and turns his face towards her. Her instincts were probably on point earlier about his anxiety. “We don’t have to, if you’re not ready, but I wouldn’t mind making out with you... just a little.” She adds in the goal as a way to allay his fears. And it works. Lucy immediately feels his shoulders relax again. She gently caresses his cheek, her eyes zeroing in on his lips. “I just… like kissing you Natsu.”

“I’ll let you direct then, a-and if I start going too far, just stop me. I won’t get mad, I just...”

“Shh, I know,” she smiles, “and that what I like about you.”

Lucy closes the gap and steals his lips, starting slow, then adding pressure behind it. Her hand slides behind his head, fingers weaving into his messy hair as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. Their tongues tease and test, mouths molding together as teeth clack gently the further, they push each other’s oral boundaries. She could still taste some of the sweetness of the crapes lingering.

His own hands stay glued, one with fingers twined in her hair and the other to Lucy’s side, just below the rib cage. Natsu loses himself in her kisses, they were so soft and sweet, a little adventurous as she ran her tongue once over his canines and giggled. That brought a grin to his lips and a straight arrow through his heart. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud yet, but he loved Lucy. His heart knew it and that’s all that matters, so when the time is right, he’ll tell her, but not yet, he knew she wasn’t ready for that level.

Natsu’s so lost in the kisses he barely registers additional heat against his chest as Lucy’s hand has found its way under his shirt. It wasn’t doing more than simply resting against his pectorals, but it was much further than he’d expected her to venture tonight. Every few minutes her fingers would lightly curl against his skin or move slightly up or down, sending little shivers over his skin. As far as he was concerned, she could do anything she wanted to him as long as it was her choice.

It surprises him when Lucy starts to press forward. At first one of his hands moves to keep from falling back onto the couch, but her sudden whine triggers him to let it happen and the next thing he knows Lucy is using him as a bed. So, he wraps his left arm more firmly around her body to make sure she doesn’t fall off.

Lucy lifts her head to look Natsu in the eyes. “Is this okay?” She questions him. “Am I too heavy?”

“I don’t mind,” he smiles at her, “but are you comfortable? I could shift us over so we’re more on our sides.”

“That would be great. Just felt like snuggling more.”

He kisses her lips. “Works for me.” Natsu then adjusts their bodies carefully until Lucy’s back is resting against the couches backing with her head on his shoulder and chest. She wraps her arm around his torso and huddles close to his frame, while their legs are slightly tangled together. “Comfy?”

“Mmm hmm,” she nods her head against his chest and closes her eyes.

Natsu kisses the top of her head, bringing a smile to her face, then wraps his left arm over to rest his hand on her shoulder and cuddle her close. “Goodnight, Lucy.”

“Mmm. Goodnight, Natsu.”

Eight months ago, the only thing Natsu thought about was a career and now after that fateful train ride he knew his new goal in life had to include the blonde next to him. Lucy felt so perfect in his arms and oh, if only he could wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life, well than he’d be the luckiest man on the planet. With a smile of his own, he closes his eyes and lets the cadence of her heartbeat lull him to sleep. This was a very happy Halloween indeed!

Just to give an idea this is Shibuya on Halloween: I’m so sad I didn’t get to see it this year like I was supposed to ;-; but Natsu and Lucy got to have a little fun in my place lol.

Also a warning, the story gets much more angsty after this for several chapters 😅

#nalu #nalu AU #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #natsu x lucy #angst and fluff #it’s a bit of a ride from here #strangers on a train #fairy tail

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.11

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

A/N: Thank you @sculptorofbeginnings for looking the chapter over :)

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO Dynamics. Angst. Smut. Dub/non-con. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Violence. Death.

Bamby

Sam and Dean had been gone all day. You’d eventually realised Sam had accidentally taken your phone charger, which meant once your phone had died you had no way of contacting the brothers.

You could have used the phone in the room, but every time you looked at it you remember the last time you used a motel room phone. John had exploded at you and Sam when he got the phone bill as he was checking out. You hadn’t touched a motel phone in years since then.

But as hours continued to tick by and you heard nothing from the brothers, you eventually caved and tried to call them. ‘Tried’ being the operative word.

Neither of them picked up.

It was then that you mentally kicked your ass as you realised you didn’t have Rebecca’s number, either. So you had no way of contacting anyone, and no car to get anywhere, and no idea where they’d be, anyway.

You were stranded and alone.

This is just great.

In order to distract yourself and pass the time, you researched. You called Bobby to see what he might know… and to check in. Since you’d run off to his and told him some truths, he’d been checking up on you more frequently. He was worried about you.

When he eventually had to hang up, you turned back to the books Sam and Dean had left on the table. You were half focused on the words written in front of you, and half focused on the TV.

It was around ten at night when the news report came on.

A woman was found, bound and bloody in her own home. SWAT had saved her and chased after her attacker, but he’d gotten away. When the sketch of the attacker appeared on screen, your blood ran cold.

While the sketch was a little off, you still recognised that face. How could you not recognise it? After all… it was Dean’s.

Sleep had come unwilling. You’d tried to stay up, waiting for the brothers to return, waiting for any sign of them, but nothing ever came. You were alone when you drifted off, and you were alone when you woke.

Nothing had been disturbed, the door was still locked. They hadn’t come back. Something was wrong.

You tried calling again, but once more you couldn’t reach anyone. That left you with two options, be good and wait like Sam and Dean would prefer you to do. Or, head out to find them… which you knew they’d hate but expect.

By mid morning, you made up your mind and left the motel room. It took no effort at all to hotwire a car and follow the road back to Rebecca’s. You just hoped someone would be home when you knocked on the door.

Parking the car on the driveway, you slid out of the car and looked up at the giant house. Without Sam and Dean with you, it looked more intimidating than fancy. Like the two giant Alphas had somehow softened its effects.

Taking a deep breath, you started towards the front door, praying and hoping the brothers would be inside.

Lifting your hand, you gave the wooden door three hesitant knocks. A few seconds passed before the door swung open.

“Dean…” You wanted to throw your arms around him… but you weren’t stupid.

The smile that had been on his face when he first saw you faltered. “You saw the news,” he noted and you nodded. “The shifter got to Becca,” he explained. “Tied Sammy and me up in the sewer. We managed to get out and call the cops, and then we came here and explained everything. I’ve been hiding out here ever since, while Sammy and Becca are trying to find the shifter son of a bitch.”

Still, you eyed him carefully. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re really you?”

“We found you when you were sixteen and took you in. I liked you from the moment I caught your scent. Knew I’d never be able to give you up. When we first kissed, I couldn’t stop smiling, and it made you laugh so hard you snorted. You said you liked how awkward and boyish I could be sometimes.”

You jumped at him, throwing your arms around his neck as you pushed yourself up and crashed your lips onto his.

His own arms wrapped around your waist and held you close as he deepened the kiss. Stepping back into the house, he kicked the door shut before pressing your against it. You tugged on his clothes, desperate to feel more and all of him. The worry you’d felt all night was flooding through, and the only way to calm yourself was the reassurance of his touch.

Dean pulled away just enough to pant against your lips.

“You smell different,” you noted, breathing through your nose to take in his scent.

“Told you. Shifter tied Sammy and me in the sewers,” he reminded you. “I can shower if you want.” His eyes turned dark as he watched your lips.

A flash of arousal ran through you. “After.” Grabbing the back of his head, you pulled him back down to your lips.

Dean pressed you into the door more as he started grinding into you. The feel of his jean covered, thick, hard cock bucking against you had your panties flooding with arousal. You clawed at his shoulders, thrusting in return, craving more of him.

“Bedroom,” you groaned against his lips.

He pulled away from the door the second the words left your mouth, as if he’d been waiting for them.

Clinging to him, he walked you through the house, towards the bedrooms. You didn’t really care where he was taking you, as long as he fucked you once you got there. Hell, he could do it on the floor right where he stood, you’d still cry out for more, for him.

Eventually, he did lay you on a bed though. You arched into its softness, momentarily moaning at the feel of something so fluffy compared to the crappy motel beds you were used to. Before you could revel in the comfort for too long, though, Dean was mouthing at your throat, pulling your attention back to him.

His fingers made quick work, stripping you of your flannel before he tore your shirt from top to bottom, exposing your chest to him. You pressed into his touch as his mouth moved down to your breasts. Pulling the cups of your bra down, he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

You moaned and carded your fingers through his hair before giving him a hard tug. He grunted at the touch, prompting you to do it again.

Tearing away from you chest, he pushed himself off the bed and undid your jeans before yanking them down your legs. “Need to be inside you. Need to feel you,” he groaned.

Watching him, you salivated as he tore his shirt over his head before kicking his boots, jeans and briefs off. Crawling back onto the bed, he grabbed your panties with both hands and tore them to shreds. The second your slit was bare, he thrust two fingers into you.

A cry tore from your lips as your back arched to an almost painful point. He leaned into you, mouthing at your throat again as his fingers fucked you hard and fast, drawing you to a quick climax.

You moaned through it, clawing at the sheet, begging him to stop while crying out for more.

Settling between your thighs, he fisted his cock with one hand while he pulled the fingers of the other out of you. Whining at the loss of that delicious full feeling, you didn’t get more than two seconds to complain before Dean was lining up and thrusting into you.

The force of Dean’s thrust had you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you let out a long cry. His arms held your waist, pressing you against his chest as he leaned back against his heels as he started to bounce you on top of him.

He filled you over and over, punching against your cervix with every thrust. He pressed against your sweet spot, making you see white spots as your eyes began to roll. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him, which he greedily took.

Mouthing, sucking, licking, nipping at your neck, Dean drank in the taste of your salty skin. He drowned in your scent as it filled the room. He fucked you hard and fast, like this was the first and last time he’d ever have you.

Dropping you onto the bed, he pressed his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned in closer and grunted in the crook of your neck. “Fuck you smell delicious. Never smelt anything like it before. Perfect. So fucking perfect. Wanna keep you. Wanna knot you. Wanna claim you.”

“Yes,” you breathed, arching into him, exposing your throat.

Desire, lust, need, desperation, it all clouded your thoughts. The only thing running through your mind was complete bliss and joy. Feeling Dean inside you, around you, taking over you completely, that was perfect. But hearing him say those words? The idea of him finally claiming you as his, like he should have years ago? It was the cherry on top. A wish come true. The one thing you’d ever really wanted.

To be claimed by an Alpha you cared deeply about, knowing he would take care of every and any need you might ever have… who wouldn’t want that?

Snarling against your throat, he fucked into you harder, as if he was trying to break through and into your womb. One hand grabbed your hair and pulled, hard, making you whimper in pain. But it wasn’t enough to deter you, not when he was still filling you completely and deliciously.

Reaching for your jaw with his other hand, he quickly snapped your head to the side and back, exposing your throat even more. Leaning in, he breathed in your scent deeply. The groan that rumbled from his chest made your walls flutter around him, which only promoted him to fuck you harder.

But his grip was quickly becoming too much, and all your pleasure was beginning to sour. You didn’t mind a little but of pain, but this wasn’t the same. It wasn’t right.

Your mind began to clear then, as things started falling into place. Inconsistencies. Things just weren’t right. Like Dean’s scent… it had an artificial aftertaste to it. The way he was fucking you, like he knew how to do it but hadn’t actually touched you before. The way he spoke… the fact he wanted to claim you.

This isn’t Dean. The second you thought the words you knew they were true, and thick fear filled your veins.

He hadn’t realised you’d figured it out yet, thankfully. Still fucking you, he breathed against your neck. You knew it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t just breathing against it, though.

With him still holding your head on an angle, you were able to take an inventory of the room. Despite the fear rattling your bones, you were still determined to fight. There was no way in hell you were just going to lay there and let this thing kill or claim you.

Your eyes landed on something shiny on the desk in the corner about seven feet away. It resembled silver, but to know whether it was the real deal or not, you’d have to get a better look… which meant getting the shifter off you and running over there before he could grab you again.

There was very little you knew about shapeshifters, but you knew monsters. You knew not to underestimate them. You knew they were generally stronger and faster, but not necessarily smarter than you. Right now, this thing thought you thought he was Dean, and he was using that to take what he wanted. You had to use that to your advantage.

Mustering up all the strength you could, you planted your feet firmly on the mattress and ran your hands up his chest, in a mock caress. The shifter was none the wiser as you prepared yourself to fight...

As hard as you could, using everything you had, you shoved at his chest. Caught off guard, the shifter was helpless as you pushed him off of you. He landed awkwardly, on his back at the bottom of the mattress. Kicking out, you clocked him in the jaw with your foot, knocking him off the bed.

Scurrying on your hands and feet, you crawled off the bed and hurried for the desk.

“Bitch!”

Just as your fingers curled around the letter opener, the shifter caught a fist full of your hair and yanked you to the ground. You let out a cry and lashed out, managing to cut his arm with the knife.

He let out a pained cry, clutching at his arm as he seethed at you. “Fuck!” Swinging his fist, he punched you right in the nose. “What the fuck, Y/N?!” Grabbing your wrist, he quickly twisted it.

Screaming, you reflexively let the knife go.

Wrapping his fingers around both your wrists, tightly, he slammed them onto the ground and held you there. Your legs kicked out, struggling, trying to keep him away, but his size and strength was too much. He easy managed to straddle you, holding you down in place.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, glaring down at you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re not Dean,” you spat, still trying to wrestle out of his grasp.

His lips turned up into a sick grin. “You sure about that?” Leaning in, he licked a line between your cleavage, groaning at the taste of you. “I feel like him, don’t I? Look like him. Sound like him. Smell like him.” Pulling back, he grinned down at you again. “I bet I even taste like him.”

“Sick bastard!”

“Baby, keep talkin’ like that. I like it.” He chuckled. “You like it, too. Admit it. When I said I was going to claim you, fuck. My sweet little Omega. You wanted it. You squeezed me hard, baby. So fucking hot.” Leaning over you, his grin fell as he stared into your eyes. “I could do it, you know. Keep this face, be Dean for you. I could be what you want… and give you what you want.” His eyes fell to your neck.

You couldn’t deny that there was a tiny part of you that contemplated the thought. It was small, and quiet, and insignificant, but it was there. You felt it. The thought of him wearing Dean’s face, and giving you what you wanted most, was pretty tempting.

“Always craved human touch…” he explained. “You’re the first one to really give it to me. Everyone else fights. You threw yourself at me. I want more of that. More of you. Just give in, Y/N.”

Looking up at his face as he looked down at yours, you felt nothing but rage, and fear, and determination. That small part of you, that tiny thought, faded into oblivion with one fact.

This was not your Dean.

Again, with him distracted- thinking he had the upper hand- he underestimated you. Again, you managed to gather some strength and courage.

“Fuck you!”

Twisting your body, you threw him off you and snatched your wrists from his grasp before quickly grabbing the silver knife from the ground. In the blink of an eye, you had it pressed to his chest, ready to plunge in and kill him… only, you didn’t do it.

Panting heavily under you, he shrugged. “You can’t do it. You can’t kill me. You love me.”

His words struck a nerve, and that’s all you needed.

“Argh!” Using every ounce of energy you had left, you plunged the knife into his chest.

The shifter gasped as his hands reached out to grab at your wrists, to stop you. But it was too late. You watched as his eyes grew dim, as his grip slackened until his hands simply fell to the floor beside him.

You couldn’t move. The tears started to roll before you even realised you were crying. Sitting there, looking down at Dean’s dead face, you were overcome with guilt, panic, and sadness.

“No… no, no, no, no, no, no.” You shook your head, letting the knife go to grab his face. “Dean? Dean!” You shook him.

“Y/N?!”

Your head shot up at the sound of your name being called, which was closely followed by the sound of feet running in your direction. You couldn’t move as you stayed there, straddling Dean’s dead body, waiting for who might be coming.

Moments passed before they threw themselves around the corner, and finally you saw them. You saw him. Dean.

His eyes looked from you, to the body you were kneeling over, and then back. They met your gaze as understanding, concern, fear and guilt clouded his expression. He took in the sight of you, with your bleeding nose, ratted hair, and naked body.

“I-I… I thought… he looked… I thou-”

Before you could finish, Sam and Rebecca came running around the corner, only to freeze behind Dean as they saw the scene in front of them.

Sam was the first to react.

“Y/N…” He hurried forward, tugging his hoodie off. Crouching down by your side, he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you to his chest as you shook with hard sobs. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Sam held the door to Rebecca’s home open for you and her. Once the two of you were outside, he stepped over to you, putting his hand on your back as you leaned into him, seeking out the comfort of his scent and touch.

All night, Sam had been by your side. Even when you’d showered, he’d stayed in the bathroom, leaning on the counter as the curtain blocked you from each other’s sight. Then when you tried to get some sleep, while Rebecca called the cops and Dean snuck back over to the motel to grab the rest of your things, Sam stayed with you.

You hadn’t been able to look at Dean.

“So, this is what you do? You, your brother, and…” Rebecca stopped herself as her eyes fell on you. “You’re not really their sister, are you?”

Giving a small shake of your head was all you could manage.

“She’s a friend,” Sam explained.

It warmed your heart to finally be referred to as something other than his sister... if only it was under better circumstances.

“And you all… you hunt down these kinds of things?” she asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I can’t believe it. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes. And...” She laughed lightly. “I mean, does everybody at school… nobody knows that you do this?”

“No.”

“Did Jessica know?”

You looked up at Sam then, catching the guilty look in his eyes. “No, she didn’t.”

“Must be lonely.”

“Oh, no. No, it’s not so bad,” Sam assured her. “Anyway, what can I do? It’s my family.” He looked down at you, catching your gaze.

She relaxed a little, knowing he was going to be okay. “Well, you know, Zack and me, and everybody at school, we really miss you.” Reaching forward, she gave him a quick but tight hug.

“Yeah, me too,” he told her sadly, before they pulled away.

“Well, will you call sometime?”

“It might not be for a little while,” he admitted.

Giving your back a light rub, he nodded his goodbye as she gave him a sad smile. You and Sam turned and headed over to the Impala where Dean was waiting, leaning by the driver’s side door. You kept your head down as Sam led you over to his side of the car.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked as you reached the car.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam answered as he opened the back door for you. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” He smiled before nodding for you to get in the car.

As soon as you were seated, he closed the door and got in his own seat without saying another word to his dumbfounded brother.

“Sorry, man,” Dean spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence as he drove down the road.

Sam turned to him with a confused frown. “About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.” Dean shrugged.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, I’m a freak, too. We all-” Dean stopped himself as he caught your reflection in the mirror. Deciding against whatever he was going to say, he moved on. “I’m right there with ya, all the way.

Sam laughed lightly. “Yeah, I know you are.”

“You know, I gotta say, I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

Bamby

#alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean fic #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!dean x omega!y/n #alpha!sam fanfiction #alpha!sam fic #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #alpha!sam x omega!y/n #her saviours

[scrapyardboyfriends]

30 August 2017

[Outside in the Village with Aaron, Sheep, Maybe Cute Farmer, A Dog...oh and Jason in a graveyard where he should probably have just stayed]

*Gratuitous shot of Aaron running from behind in his new sweat pants* - for the fans -

SHEEP: Baaaa! We’re in the way but we’re cute and fluffy so we’re allowed. Baaaa! #ClassicVillageLife

MAYBE CUTE FARMER: *Whistles* Don’t mind us. Me, my sheep and my dog will be out of your way soon.

AARON: *Stares* Okay...wait...what’s that in the graveyard? Is that my Filler Plot coming back to haunt me already?

JASON: *Beaten and Broken*

(FANDOM: Sorry, not enough)

AARON: What happened? Why are you here? I swear I got enough closure yesterday.

JASON: Well apparently your Filler Plot thought you needed more because it had Cain beat me up.

AARON: *Sighs* Well, I’m turning into the most forgiving person ever, even though I still hate Rebecca and her baby, but that’s totally justified. Anyway, come on back to mine so I can get whatever closure the Filler Plot still thinks I need.

[Home Farm with Rebecca, Finn and Robert]

REBECCA: *On the phone* I’m sorry Mr. Important Client Sir...I’m just a Plot Device. I don’t have any agency or business skills. I’m just a womb or a prop. I can’t possibly be expected to have things like important files on hand…

FINN: Nope, the Plot won’t let me find the file. Your filing system sucks.

REBECCA: Oops, there goes another Important Client. I’m such a miserable failure. Why does the Plot hate me so much?

FINN: Is the business really doing that bad?

ROBERT: *Enters* No...everything will be fine. Get out Finn, go make us some tea. I can’t have anyone with even a shred of intelligence around for this next part. There’s a good PA.

*Finn leaves*

ROBERT: *Manipulative Rebecca Voice* Are you okay?

REBECCA: No! It’s time to have the conversation again. *Worried about Dad chat number 62 commences*

ROBERT: *Manipulative Rebecca Voice* There there, it’ll be okay. I’ll have a chat with him, give him some tough love. I’m sure we’ll both enjoy that.

REBECCA: Okay, but if that doesn’t work I’m probably going to continue to play right into your hand.

ROBERT: *As it should be Face*

[The Mill with Aaron and Jason]

AARON: Here’s some peas for your face. Now about this closure the Filler Plot thinks I need? Are we really going to have this conversation again? I swear we had it twice yesterday. Maybe now I can really start competing in this challenge of Robert’s and mine to see who can have the most repetitive scenes in their Filler Plots. Right...let’s do this.

JASON: Don’t think this changes anything.

AARON: Of course it doesn’t. The fans all think you’re scum and don’t want you in the same room with me let alone allowed any kind of redemption. Except those strange ones who want the Plot to Karofsky you and make you secretly gay, but let’s just say right now that that’s not going to happen. In any case, let’s go over this again. You’re still horrible and I’m still not afraid of you and you have no effect on me anymore. I have too much to lose now to go down that route again.

JASON: What? All these pictures on the wall?

AARON: Actually there are a lot less pictures now that I took down all of my wedding photos and any picture that had Robert in it.

JASON: Right...so what? You think that weird vespa chair by your Spiral Staircase of Doom makes you special?

AARON: Yeah...Robert picked that out. It’s a bit weird innit? Ah well, the Plot may not be giving me him right now, but at least I still have all of his decor to make heart eyes at even though it’s all pretty terrible. Anyway, I was talking about the people who care about me. I messed everything up for everyone when I punched that Plot Device and got banged up and sucked into that Prison Plot. #IMissRobert #AreWeBackTogetherYet I’m not going to go there again.

JASON: Yeah, but underneath all this, you’re totally a junkie. We were involved in a Drugs Plot together.

AARON: Yeah, but you and the Prison Plot did that to me. You tortured me and forced me to relive my most painful memories all so the Plot could get me on drugs so that I would push Robert away so that he could cheat on me and get the Walking Womb Plot Device in a Hat pregnant! And this, this whole Filler Plot is just so the Main Plot can pat itself on the back and say that they didn’t drop the Prison Plot completely even though that’s a blatant lie and nothing that’s happening in this Filler Plot really makes up for that. Anyway, you have no power over me and I am totally better than you cause I’m a #TopBloke.

[The Cafe with Robert, Lawrence, Bob, Rodney, Emma and Cain]

LAWRENCE: *Sleepy Disgruntled Mode Activate* Where are my sausages!?!

BOB: I’m trying my best but Brenda has been in Canada literally FOREVER. Oh, Rodney, Eric is going to that auction you’re holding the brochure for too. Let me just tell you his secret plans so that you can screw him over later.

RODNEY: Great! Thanks. *Leaves*

CAIN: Can I order? I’m actually being allowed to have scenes at my place of work later and I need fuel.

BOB: I really am trying, but it’s very busy.

EMMA: I’m back to being super nice to everyone so that no one thinks I’m guilty of anything. Also the Plot wants to rile Laurel up, so I can totally help you Bob.

BOB: This is probably a bad idea but okay. Go check on Lawrence’s precious sausages.

ROBERT: *Enters*

LAWRENCE: Oh, Robert. Let me guess, we’re going to have the same conversation again?

ROBERT: Yep, I think I can count this as number 63 in my competition with Aaron. It’s too easy with people as dense as you and Rebecca.

LAWRENCE: Save your breath. I’m not listening. I’m fine.

ROBERT: Okay, I believe you.

LAWRENCE: Wait? That’s it? You’re not going to try and make me see a medical professional?

ROBERT: Of course not! If you did, then my scheme would be discovered. Can’t have that! In fact, I’ll continue to talk Rebecca around so she doesn’t force you to see one either.

LAWRENCE: Oh, well great then.

[Outside the Mill with Aaron and Jason]

AARON: Right, well, I hope you’re really leaving this time. As much as I’d love to beat Robert in this repetitive conversation thing, I’m really tired of having to talk to you. Oh and apparently the Plot would like me to relate your issues with mine to help you get past them, because all abuse survivors should have to have these kinds of sympathetic chats with their abusers. #OnMessage Oh and, really, thanks for being so out of character and standing there and listening to this speech four times now. Gold star for you!

JASON: I hope I’m leaving forever too because you’re right, these chats are getting a bit old. But, before I go, let me give you some news about your other abuser, Gordon. We had lots of heart to hearts in prison before I forced him to top himself and he really hated himself for what he did to you.

AARON: Oh great, the feeling’s mutual. Thanks for that extra bit of #Closure I feel SOOO much better now. Thanks Filler Plot. Can you please end now?

JASON: *Gets in taxi* *Taxi drives away*

(FANDOM: Please say it’s over now!!!)

[The Garage with Aaron and Cain]

AARON: I didn’t do the thing, so you had to instead?

CAIN: Well...maybe.

AARON: And all that about me NOT doing the thing when you don’t do the same?

CAIN: You deal with things your way and I’ll deal with things my way. But, I am proud of you. You did the right thing yesterday.

AARON: *Nods* *Cain is proud of me, this is great Face*

[Outside in the Village with Aaron and Robert]

ROBERT: Hey Aaron, I just happened to be walking by here because I'm pretty sure the Plot forgot we were broken up. Cain’s not giving you grief about the thing from yesterday right?

AARON: Why? You gonna throw money at that problem too?

ROBERT: I guess I deserved that.

AARON: And more too cause I’m still trying to pretend I want nothing to do with you. #StopLyingYouLiar

ROBERT: Right right, stay out of your life...except the Plot doesn’t seem to want that to happen. For the record though, I never doubted you. That wasn’t what the Plot money was about. Anyway...I was going to go get a drink if you...you know...wanna pretend that this Plot isn’t happening and we’re not broken up. I think we might be able to score a few minutes together before my Filler Plot catches up to me.

AARON: *Scrunchy Face* Are you sure you can afford it? #AaronStyleFlirtyBanter

ROBERT: *Smiles* *Heart Eyes* *He made a joke and didn’t say no Face*

*Aaron and Robert walk off to enjoy these blissful few Filler Plot free moments together*

[The Cafe with Rebecca, Bob, Emma and Sleepy Lawrence]

REBECCA: *Enters*

SLEEPY LAWRENCE: *Exists*

REBECCA: *Worried Face*

EMMA: He’s been like that for awhile.

BOB: Yep, didn’t even have the decency to finish the sausages he yelled at me about! He just fell asleep.

EMMA: I’m a medical professional and he seems pale and has shallow breathing.

REBECCA: OH NO! Does that mean something’s wrong? I’ve been having the same conversation 62 times with Robert trying to figure out this very simple thing, but I haven’t yet. Is it bad?

EMMA: It might be. I’m going in to see everyone’s other favorite medical professional, Dr. Cavanaugh. I can book him an appointment.

SLEEPY LAWRENCE: *Wakes up a the word medical professional* Leave me to sleep and dream of my exit in peace! *Leaves*

REBECCA: So, medical professional Emma, you’d tell him to see a medical professional about this problem he might have?

EMMA: I would. Seems logical.

REBECCA: Does it? Because I’ve been trying to make a decision about this for two weeks and I haven’t really gotten much further. Robert keeps telling me that seeing a medical professional is unnecessary and I know he only has mine and my dad’s best interests at heart. But thank you for validating this medical professional concept that should have been really easy to grasp. I thought I was the only one who thought it might be necessary. I feel at least a bit closer to making a decision now. I might have to have The Conversation another time or two though before I fully get there.

[The Woolpack with Robert and Aaron….oh and the Plotstacle]

*Half finished pints in front of them* - to show the fans that they’ve at least been enjoying this Filler Plot free time for a little longer than we’re seeing them now -

ROBERT: *Heart Eyes* So, you’re Filler Plot is over now and Jason got what he deserved in the end. Can’t say I’m gonna lose any sleep...cause I’m still not getting at any because I still miss you too much and I’m using all of my sleeping pills to drug Lawrence.

AARON: *Smirk* *Heart Eyes* You just lost a bit of cash.

ROBERT: Well you’d have done the same for me...right? We’d both die for each other because we’re both still hopelessly in love with each other in spite of the Plot?

AARON: *Nods* *Looks down to contemplate* *Would totally have agreed if not for–*

PLOTSTACLE: ROBERT!!!! THE PLOT SENSED THAT YOU WERE HAVING A MOMENT WITH YOUR AARON AND ALERTED ME IMMEDIATELY SO THAT I COULD COME AND DESTROY THIS BEAUTIFUL MOMENT THAT BOTH OF YOU AND THE FANS WERE ALL ENJOYING BECAUSE THE HELL PLOT HATES JOY AND THE HELL PLOT CAN’T BE STOPPED. Also...we need to have The Conversation again.

ROBERT: Do we really have to? I was having such a nice time.

PLOTSTACLE: Yes we have to!

AARON: *This is awkward and I really don’t want to be here but wow Robert is going to destroy me in this Repetitive Scene competition if this is anything to go by Face*

ROBERT: Look, I was...um… *Searching through back catalogue of manipulation techniques* I was just trying to use reverse psychology to get Lawrence to want to go see a medical professional himself.

PLOTSTACLE: Well that backfired!

ROBERT: Which fits into my schemes perfectly fine. But I was just trying to help. Honest! #FingersCrossBehindBack

PLOTSTACLE: Well now I hate you! Actually, that’s not true. I trust you implicitly and wholeheartedly believe that you care about me and have my best interests at heart and I apologize for doubting you even though you’re the cause of all of these problems. I’m just too Plot Brained to figure it out. It’s just that I bumped into medical professional Emma and she validated my suspicions that Dad has an actual problem so now I’m all worked up about it. You can tell by the fact that my voice is getting higher pitched and more breathy. It’s my #UpsetVoice

AARON: On that note...I’ll leave you to it, because, as I imagine the fans are thinking too, I cannot possibly watch this puppet show any longer. See ya, hope your dad gets better I suppose. *Leaves*

ROBERT: *Aaron please don’t leave me Face*

PLOTSTACLE: Well, my work here is done...I mean...sorry for interruptimg your cute almost date.

ROBERT: Yeah...you should be...I mean…*Manipulative Rebecca Voice* *Fingers Crossed Behind Back* Don’t worry about it, you did nothing wrong. We’ll get through this together.

PLOTSTACLE: Well I’m off now that I’m not needed anymore to remind Aaron why he broke up with you. Oh and next time you see me, I might actually have made a decision now that half the village has weighed in on it and made me some pro/con lists. *Leaves*

ROBERT: *Great and now I’m alone again Face* #StoryOfMyLife #ComeBackAaron #AreWeBackTogetherYet

[The Mill with Robert and Aaron]

ROBERT: *Stands outside* *Pauses to look at what should be his home* I probably shouldn’t but I’m going to anyway because we are seriously bad at being broken up and I literally can’t seem to stay away. *Heads for the door*

AARON: *Grabs beer inside* *Hears knock at the door* *Oh no not more Plot Face* *Opens door to find Robert there* Sup?

ROBERT: ‘Sup?’ That’s all you have to say? Way to make a guy feel welcome! You should work on that. Might put people off.

AARON: Clearly not...considering you’re still here and we legitimately can’t be separate from each other if we happen to be in the same episode. In any case, thanks for reminding me earlier why we broke up. Plotstacle had perfect timing.

ROBERT: About that...you know there’s nothing going on there right? I’m just pretending I care about the baby and helping out up there cause I’m stuck in this Filler Plot with them.

AARON: And scheming...cause it’s you and the Plot doesn’t know how to do anything different with you when you’re not with me.

ROBERT: Fair point. I’m glad you can still see right through my bullshit. It’s one of the things that made me fall in love with you.

AARON: Oh Robert don’t! The Plot isn’t ready for us to get back together yet and so I have to still pretend I don’t care about you at all. So go back to your boring Filler Plot and leave me out of it.

ROBERT: *Fuck this Plot Face* *Leaves*

AARON: *I still fucking care damnit Face*

[The Mill with Aaron]

AARON: *Stares at monkey sculpture of Robert because he clearly still cares* *Calls the other person he cares about* Hi Liv! I’m doing great now that my Filler Plot is finished and I supposedly got #Closure for my Prison Plot. In fact, I could use a new Filler Plot until the Hell Plot is ready to get Robert and I back together so I miss you and I love you and I don’t care how soppy I sound but I can’t wait for you to come home.

[Home Farm with Robert, Finn and Rebecca]

ROBERT: *Enters*

FINN: *Exists*

ROBERT: *Gently nudges Finn onto the stairs* HOW DARE YOU TURN AARON IN FOR HITTING THAT PLOT DEVICE! YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!!!! #Projecting

FINN: Umm...Robert, mate? That was like seven months ago. That Plot Device is long gone and I’ve even been to Australia and back to help the fans forget about that whole ordeal. So….sorry?

ROBERT: Get out of my sight! #BetterLateThanNever #LatentPlotFixes

REBECCA: Hey, I’m not interrupting anything right? I love to do that.

ROBERT: Nope, Finn was just leaving so I can get back to my manipulating.

*Finn leaves*

ROBERT: I know I’ve been a bit distracted for the last three days with Aaron’s Filler Plot and thinking we could have a pub date without Plotstacle rearing her blonde braided head but I assure you now that this Filler Plot will get my full attention. And just know that I'm absolutely doing all of this because the Plot won't let me have Aaron.

REBECCA: That’s so great to hear! My dad’s in the next room for you to manipulate.

ROBERT: Perfect.

[Home Farm with Robert and Sleepy Lawrence]

SLEEPY LAWRENCE: *Sleeps*

ROBERT: *Murder Face* Great! You just keep sleeping so I can con the business away from your unbelievably gullible daughter and apparently mother of my child.

#robron #emmerdale #plotdale #i hope this doesn't suck cause i'm so tired

[lightsaberss]

The Wedding (Part One)

The list of things he would do for Winry was pages, and pages long. He'd tried to write it down once to prove a point - and win an argument - but she'd stopped him once he got onto the fourth page, and the list had gotten more and more ridiculous. However, on that list, the following things hadn't appeared:

1) Being a human dummy for her to plan, and also practice, Hawkeye's wedding hairdo.

2) Attending the wedding of President-Elect Fuckface and Shining Paragon of Duty Former Captain Riza Hawkeye, with his very, very, very pregnant wife.

If they managed to get through this weekend in Central without Winry giving birth, or anyone finding out about his own recent past as hair stylist mannequin it was going to be a miracle. He could put up with the latter, just about, but he was going to hover around Win just in case. The idea that she could just go into labour here, so far from home and their plan was terrifying, and there was no way in hell that he was letting her out of his sight for more time than it took for her to go to the bathroom, which she did all the time.

That's why he was one of only two men sitting in Rebecca Catalina-Havoc-Whatever's living room while the girls gushed over the bride. Al was with him, because Ed had given him no chance to refuse as he physically dragged him along with him and Winry from the hotel. However, he was being no help, as he was just talking about Alkahestry with Princess Mei. Usually Ed would've butted in, or at least listened with great interest (just because he couldn't perform Alchemy anymore, didn't mean he'd lost any academic interest he had in the subject), but he was worried about Winry, who kept rubbing the small of her back in between doing… whatever it was she was actually doing to Hawkeye's hair.

It felt like a victory when he managed to wait until Winry was done with Hawkeye's hair (it was now in some kind of ridiculous - but he had to admit - pretty updo. At least, he thought it was called an updo) before he went over and rubbed her lower back for her. He pointedly ignored CataHavoc's (Havolina? Fuck, he should just call her Rebecca, or it was going to get weird) 'awwww's' and comments about how adorable they were. He hoped that Al was proud that he was growing as a person.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, just everything aches today," Winry complained, but let him steer her to the chair he'd just vacated, and she flopped down as elegantly as any heavily pregnant woman could. "I can't wait until this kid's out and then you can carry it around for a change."

"As long as it's not today," Ed said. "And I'll carry her around all the time."

"Stop calling it a girl, we don't know that!" Winry argued. Not for the first time. Or the hundredth. It just felt weird to call his kid an it, and there was only a 50% chance he'd be wrong. He'd taken worse odds in the past.

"Fine. Him. Happy?" Ed asked.

"Oh, you know that's not what I meant at all!" Winry said, but she was amused rather than angry. Ed could tell by the fact that she had yet to actually threaten him with violence or anything other than a scolding.

Okay. So. Maybe he hadn't grown as a person that much, as he got embroiled in the stupid argument about what to call the baby before it was even out of the womb. It was the same argument they'd had almost weekly since they'd found out they were going to be parents. It was weirdly comforting, and it took his mind of the nightmare scenario that was Winry going into labour in the middle of the ceremony.

"Oh, wow!" It was Rebecca's exclamation that made them stop bickering. There was Hawkeye, in her wedding dress, and even Ed had to admit that she looked really nice. It was a high necked ivory gown, to cover her scars, Ed guessed, and while he didn't know enough about dresses to describe it more accurately than 'ivory, lace, and some sparkly bits', he thought she looked elegant. Beautiful and elegant.

***

Roy felt like he'd been waiting forever for this. Ever since he first kissed her, just after he figured out how to turn flame alchemy from a concept into a reality, through every little moment they'd shared together since then, he'd been waiting for this moment. The moment where he gets to scream to the world; Look, I'm hers, and she's mine! Only without any literal screaming, because he was certain that would make her walk out of the registry office before he could stumble over an apology.

This, for him, was the true beginning of the next part of their plans. It was also, he knew, incredibly selfish. He could be President without her as his wife, he could change Amestris with her as his adjutant, his bodyguard, and his assistant. Being married wasn't something that would help them reach their goals any quicker than staying as they were, it was just that doing this would make them happy.

For years, he'd thought - they'd both thought - that being happy was a sin, that they weren't worthy of it after everything they'd done, and maybe some people would agree with their past views. Maybe they would be right. Roy honestly didn't care. It had taken the almost destruction of Amestris at the hands of the Homunculi, and the rebuilding of Ishval to put things into perspective for him. That maybe in his personal life he could be selfish, they could both be selfish, and happy, and still work towards making this country a better place.

Today was the true, and honest, start of that happiness. Now, all he had to do was wait for her to show up.

"She'll be here soon, boss." Havoc said, catching him in the act of checking the time on his pocket watch. "I remember when me and Becca got married, this was the worst part. I could've sworn she wasn't gonna show, but she did."

"I remember, you almost threw up on my shoes." Roy reminded him. "Although that might've been the hangover, rather than nerves."

"I wasn't that hungover." Havoc said.

Roy's response was interrupted before it even begun, as the doors opened and the Elric's, and Princess Mei slipped inside to take their seats. A quiet fell over the guests as the music started, a quiet filled with anticipation that turned to wonder as Riza walked into the room, accompanied by her grandfather.

To him, she was a vision. Her dress clung to her curves alluringly, and she sparkled as she walked towards him, the light catching on the tiny gems that had been embroidered onto her dress. Her beauty had always been able to strike him dumb, and take away his ability to be charming and suave, and this was no exception. By the time she reached him, and he took her hand, he had just about regained enough speech to tell her how beautiful she looked. How he was going to manage his vows, he had no idea.

***

Rebecca was not going to cry. She was going to keep it together. The sight of her best friend marrying the Matchstick and being well and truly happy for the first time in for-fucking-ever was not going to make her tear up, god dammit.

She wiped at her eyes carefully, trying not to smudge her make up too much, because if she looked like a panda in the photos later then she'd just die. She was so focused on Riza that she almost didn't notice her husband staring at her instead of the happy couple. They'd only been married a year, and even if it was stupidly sappy to say, it didn't feel like long at all. Rebecca grinned at him, but nudged her head towards Riza and Roy to try to get him to pay attention to them.

Still, it was very sweet, and she'd kiss the hell out of him later as a reward.

***

It turned out, to no one's surprise, that Edward Elric actually cared very little about weddings that weren't his own. Even then, Winry had to explain to him using very small words (while holding a very big wrench) why he had to help plan the wedding and no, he couldn't just turn up, and no they were not just going to elope and get it over with.

Still, at least this wedding was quick and didn't involve any hokey religions.

It was that, and the way Mustang initially stumbled over his vows, that reminded him of his own wedding, and he slid an arm around Winry's shoulders and kissed her temple affectionately.

"Love you, Win." He whispered into her ear, and smiled.

"Love you too." She said, her voice strained.

Ed handed her a hanky. Freaking hormones.

***

Riza's heart was beating a million beats per minute, and she didn't think she'd smiled so much or so brightly in her life, especially not in front of so many people. She'd been nervous about today for weeks, not about getting married to Roy, but about standing up in front of everyone and being the centre of attention. It felt ridiculous now that Roy was the one staring at her, because no one else in the room mattered.

No one else in the room had mattered from the second she'd walked into it.

She'd spoken how vows clearly; to love him, support him, and to always watch his back. They were simple vows, but honest, and everything else had been promised a thousand times before in few words and many actions.

Embarrassingly, considering she was a sniper by trade, her hands trembled with excitement and nerves as she slipped the ring onto his finger. She had to stop herself from laughing happily, when his hands did the same.

This happiness was selfish, she knew that. These giddy moments of child like glee at the mere touch of his hand on hers in the middle of this ceremony was nothing more than self indulgent selfishness that she had struggled to believe she was allowed. She was allowed it, and she was going to indulge in it, and let herself be happy.

"You may now kiss the bride." The officiator announced.

Riza giggled quietly, so that only Roy could hear, before he took her in his arms and kissed her. The crowd cheered, and unable to resist showing off, Roy dipped her as he continued to kiss her. She clutched at his uniform jacket to stop herself falling to the floor, and happily returned the kiss.

Tomorrow they would go back to fixing their country. Today was just for them.

#Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang are getting maaaaaaaaaried #I really enjoyed writing this #It was loads of fun to try different POVs and not just Riza's. #I feel like I still need to work on her and Roy's voices #But I'm really happy with this #Royai #Edwin #Havolina #Riza Hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Edward Elric #Winry Rockbell #Fullmetal Alchemist #Katy writes fic #As Bold As Love

[zeroviraluniverse-blog]

I'm a Catholic obstetrician who had an abortion. This is life, not politics.

Visit Now - https://zeroviral.com/im-a-catholic-obstetrician-who-had-an-abortion-this-is-life-not-politics/

I'm a Catholic obstetrician who had an abortion. This is life, not politics.

Rebecca Luckett, Opinion contributor Published 3:15 a.m. ET March 19, 2018

We need to weigh very seriously the impact of the political decisions we make based on our values. Voting pro-life doesn’t reduce abortions.

At the Supreme Court in 2016.(Photo: Michael Reynolds, epa)

My job is to take care of women. As an obstetrician-gynecologist working in Botswana, I see women through the highs and lows of their reproductive lives. Until last year, I personally had only experienced the highs. In 2015, I gave birth to a perfect baby at the right time in my life given my values and goals. A few years later, when I was ready, I got pregnant with my second child.

Last August, I went for my 20-week ultrasound, expecting to find out if number two was a boy or a girl. Instead, I looked to the monitor and found a fetus struggling to survive in my womb. I’m used to being on the other side of that ultrasound probe, so I knew what was next. I would have said the same thing: “The baby can’t survive. And you can get very sick.”

More: Government had no role in my late-term abortion struggle. Let’s keep it that way.

More: The lies about abortion must stop. Here’s what we’re doing about that.

I found no judgment. I was meeting this doctor for the first time, and she embraced me as if I were her daughter. She knew my pain and shared in my sadness. She assembled a team in no time. I felt loved and supported. 

“Terminate the pregnancy” were the words I chose to explain what was happening to my friends and family in Ohio. I was in sub-Saharan Africa, far away from them. I don’t know if they understood that I was preparing to have an abortion. I suspect they didn’t realize that people like me with a highly desired pregnancy sometimes need an abortion.

I grew up in an anti-abortion world, the third of four children in a middle-class, strongly Catholic household. My father had been in the seminary, planning to dedicate his life to the Church; my mother attended church as often as she could while raising four children. I went to Catholic grade school and Catholic high school and to church every Sunday.

I was part of our youth group and joined a “pro-life” march in Washington, D.C. I went to Notre Dame for college and lived and worked with missionaries for two years after graduation. I was indoctrinated to the highest degree in Catholic doctrine and dogma and at the end of it, I came away with the deep conviction that my upbringing and my religion were guiding me to live a life centered on social justice.

I had no idea how formative my Catholic education was in preparing me for my first encounter with a patient who needed an abortion. Empathy was one of the core values I was taught by my parents, who had a First Nation’s People’s proverb hanging in our house: “Do not judge your neighbor until you walk two moons in his moccasins.” My patient opened a door for me, revealed to me the dark and sad space in her life, and I could understand that for her, an abortion was both right and necessary. And for her to be able to make the choice was just.

When faced with my own abortion several years later, I was devastated. Yet at the same time, I was grateful that in a region of the world where many women do not have access to safe abortions, this care was readily available to me, in a setting of love and support.

Just a few months earlier, I had been called to the operating room in our district hospital. I found a young woman on the table and an even younger doctor attempting to gain control over a life-threatening complication of an attempted home abortion. I worked feverishly on her as her life drained away. I watched her blood turn from red to pink to clear. Despite all of my training, I was unable to undo what had been done. She was a mother of five who had seen abuse and abandonment. And there she was, dying in my hands.

More: Church pastor: The truth about my late-term abortion

More: Good luck explaining your abortion vote high-fives to your constituents, senators

POLICING THE USA: A look at race, justice, media

I do not expect anyone to transform their moral ideology or religious convictions. We do, however, need to weigh very seriously the consequences of the political decisions we make based on our values. In my Catholic, middle-class community growing up, we were single-issue voters. We believed that we were preserving family values by voting “pro-life.” But what the data show, and what my own experience has demonstrated, is that theillegality of abortion does not decrease either the likelihood that women will seek an abortion, or that someone will provide an abortion.

When I began writing this confession, it stemmed from fear. I am afraid for the millions of women whose reality is different than mine. There are voices in politics that think it is okay to limit access to abortion and to deny women coverage for contraception. The rhetoric is around family values. But if we would recognize women’s right to self-determination, they and their families would become stronger. Women make the best decisions when they can make them for themselves and their families. Could we, not in spite of, but rather because of our moral convictions, focus our energy on uplifting women, making them stronger and breaking the structural violence that keeps them from controlling their own lives?

I am confessing outside of the confessional today because I have hope. When my community in Ohio saw me — their sister, daughter and friend — in front of them, my decision to have an abortion didn’t seem like a choice, but rather, a necessity. Something terrible and sad happened to me and in our intimate space, the response was obvious.

Every woman lives within her own intimate space. If we could extend that empathy to all women, those we have not yet nor will ever meet, to walk in their shoes, then we might trust all women to make the best decisions for themselves.

Rebecca Luckett, an obstetrician-gynecologist affiliated with Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston and a member of Physicians for Reproductive Health, is currently practicing in Botswana.

    Read or Share this story: https://usat.ly/2tYKmgu

#abortion #Catholic #Im #life #obstetrician #Politics #News #Random News

[kansascityhappenings]

Albuquerque police officer adopts woman’s opioid-addicted baby

Watch Video

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. – Police officers will often tell you there’s no such thing as a routine call when you’re patrolling the streets.

But when Albuquerque police officer Ryan Holets responded to a possible theft at a nearby convenience store, it had all the hallmarks of a mundane assignment he could quickly clear from the call log.

It didn’t turn out that way.

As Ryan left the convenience store on September 23rd, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a couple sitting on the grass against a cement wall. The man and woman shot up heroin in broad daylight behind the convenience store.

Ryan turned on his body camera and approached the couple, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. The woman was in the middle of injecting a needle into her friend’s arm. Then he noticed the woman was pregnant.

“It’s not every day I see a sight like that, and it just made me really sad,” he told CNN.

Crystal Champ, 35, looked slightly dazed and agitated in the body camera footage as you hear Ryan scold her. She told the officer she was almost 8 months pregnant and a drug addict.

“You’re going to kill your baby,” Ryan says in the bodycam footage. “Why do you have to be doing that stuff?” It’s going to ruin your baby.”

In the video, Champ breaks down in tears. She told CNN the officer’s words cut deep, because even though she’s pro-choice, she didn’t want an abortion.

“I was like how dare you judge me. You have no idea how hard this is,” Champ told CNN. “I know what a horrible person I am and what a horrible situation I’m in.”

Champ, who has battled addiction since she was a teenager, sat down for an interview with CNN outside of a tent where she currently lives in Albuquerque.

Champ has been homeless for more than two years. She detailed a life time of battling heroin and crystal meth addiction and how the drug controls every moment of her life, spending up to $50 a day on scoring hits of heroin simply so she can “get well.” She’s tried multiple times to get clean, but failed.

“I did give up. I just decided this was going to be my life,” Champ said. “It just keeps coming back and ruining my life.”

In the body camera footage, Ryan questions Champ and her companion for almost 11 minutes. He focused on Champ and tried to figure out whether she fully understood the danger drug use was inflicting on her unborn child.

In the course of the conversation, Champ emotionally told Ryan that she desperately hoped someone would adopt her baby. Champ says the words triggered a change in the officer’s demeanor.

“He became a human being instead of a police officer,” Champ said.

Ryan made the call to not charge the couple with drug possession, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his chance to help.

Ryan showed Champ a picture of his wife and four children, including a 10-month old baby and in that moment offered to adopt her baby.

“I was led by God to take the chance,” Ryan said. “God brought us all together. I really don’t have any other way to explain it.”

Champ was stunned and says she looked at him to “make sure his eyes were genuine and that I could see his soul.” She realized instantly, her prayers had been answered.

But there was one big problem, Ryan offered to adopt Champ’s baby, but he had not told his wife about it.

Rebecca Holets was just a few miles away at a going-away party for a friend. Ryan jumped in his police car and drove over to the party to break the news.

Ryan walked up to his wife, who was holding their 10-month old baby. He said he had just met a pregnant woman shooting up heroin and that he offered to adopt the baby.

The couple had discussed adopting a child in the future but were waiting for their youngest child to grow a little older. When Ryan delivered the shocking news at the party, Rebecca never hesitated.

“He already knew my heart on the issue, and he knew that I would be totally onboard with it,” Rebecca said.

The Holets say they see many in the world around them who desperately need stability. They know they can’t help every child, but Rebecca knew she could take on the challenge of raising another baby.

“We feel God has called us to do that,” Rebecca said. “It’s been on our hearts for a while.”

The birth

On October 12th, Crystal Champ gave birth to a baby girl and the Holets family named her Hope.

Ryan was at the hospital for the delivery. He kept thinking back to the surreal turn of events that brought a young police officer to this moment with a pregnant, homeless heroin addict.

A few days later when Rebecca walked into the nursery with Crystal Champ, it would be the last time the birth mother would see the newborn. Rebecca watched Crystal fawn over how beautiful the little girl looked.

“I love you. Goodbye,” Rebecca recalled Crystal saying to the baby. “And then she turns to me and says ‘Take care of her for me.’ And I said, ‘I will take good care of her, and you take good care of yourself.’ It was super emotional.”

Rebecca said from that moment she was Baby Hope’s new mother.

Opioid babies are born every 25 minutes

Baby Hope represents an alarming trend in the United States, babies born addicted to opiates.

The medical term for a baby exposed to opioid abuse in the womb is neonatal abstinence syndrome, or NAS.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention released a study in 2016 that determined the number of neonatal abstinence cases tripled between 1999 and 2013.

The National Institute on Drug Abuse estimates that a baby suffering from opioid withdrawal is born every 25 minutes in the United States and that these babies face developmental issues.

Dr. Heather Pratt-Chavez is a pediatrician at the University of New Mexico, the same hospital where Baby Hope was born. She specializes in babies born with opioid exposure and says that babies usually need several weeks of medical treatment, which can include morphine and methadone, to help the newborn detox.

The Holets say Baby Hope suffered the painful process of detoxing and withdrawals and even endured methadone treatment.

Babies suffering from NAS usually endure abnormal sleep patterns, are difficult to console and have trouble feeding. The withdrawal symptoms are just as intense for babies as adults.

“I look into their little faces and see their brows furrowed and watch for their faces to relax,” Dr. Pratt-Chavez told CNN.

Many experts says intensive intervention in early infant care is crucial to ensuring a healthy future for the baby. After the initial medical treatment, Dr. Pratt-Chavez says “skin-to-skin” touch is crucial in lowering stress levels and ensuring a nurturing development.

Hope for the future

Baby Hope is no longer in the hospital. The Holets family takes her for weekly medical checkups, but mostly they’re beginning to settle into their new routine.

Crystal Champ’s future is bleak. She’s still battling addiction and remains homeless. Ironically, Crystal Champ was also given up for adoption as a newborn. She remembers the lyrics of a song that her adoptive parents used to sing her as a child:

“I’m Crystal. I’m adopted. I’m loved, loved, loved.

I’m Crystal. I’m adopted. I’m loved, loved, loved.”

But she hopes that when Hope grows older she’ll understand how much her mother and father love her. And that placing her with a loving family was the best thing to do for her future.

“She needs to have a safe environment and a stable life and be able to grow and be nurtured and be safe and secure, and all of these things I can’t give her right now,” said Champ.

Both Crystal and the Holets marvel at the inexplicable course of events that brought them together in that convenience store parking lot back in September.

Ryan calls it “providence” and still can’t believe that he met the parents of his future child on a work call.

Crystal calls it serendipity. She describes the adoptive parents of her baby girl as a “light in this world.”

“There needs to be more people like Ryan and his wife and their family in this world,” she said.

The Holets know their new baby will likely face trials and troubles in the future. The threat of developmental issues is real. But they’re banking on love and nurturing to save Baby Hope’s life.

Rebecca says as Hope grows older, and when the time is right, they will share the details of how she was adopted. And they want her birth parents, Crystal Champ and Tom Key, to have a place in their life. But the road to overcoming addiction is unpredictable.

“Whatever struggles she has, we’ll be there and we’ll work through it,” said Ryan. “And that makes me happy.”

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/12/01/albuquerque-police-officer-adopts-womans-opioid-addicted-baby/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/12/01/albuquerque-police-officer-adopts-womans-opioid-addicted-baby/

[saras-almanac]

What’s so frustrating to me is that there are kernels of good storytelling in Emmerdale currently but they either don’t trust themselves to write it, trust their audience to wait a little for it to happen naturally, or care to actually make it make sense within the narrative and the characters they’ve created. 

So Rebecca... it would be a lot easier to understand that she’s acting completely unlike herself if she, I don’t know, actually had a personality post ONS? Honestly, she came to the village as one person and over time she just changed to be whatever the narrative needed her to be. The problem with that is that she always feels out of character to me. As heartless as it might sound, this trend of Rebecca not caring for her son doesn’t feel as out of character as the show probably means it to be because to me her lack of character leading up to all this made it seem like she was having this baby out of spite for Robert and Chrissie. Of course, the show didn’t play that way, but like, they also didn’t really give Rebecca a voice post her demanding that she’s going to keep the baby because Robert wants her to terminate it. So in all honesty, this lack of care for Seb could just be her actual feelings manifesting because when you don’t want a baby 100% (*cough*Chas/Paddy*cough*), there’s probably going to be some resentment there. 

Of course, this is just one interpretation, but it’s something that could have easily been fixed if the show actually just allowed Rebecca to be a person instead of a plot womb. Everything still could have happened, but there could have been some comments on how Rebecca wasn’t a vicitm in this ONS. Let her own that a bit; the show completely forgets that she chased both before and after the ONS so like... where did her personality go? I’m just going to need more than Vic saying that things are bad and she’s not acting like herself for me to care more about what’s happening to Rebecca. 

Onto the Chas pregnancy thing... It’s so insulting that people have taken the stance to just “give it a go” because this will eventually be a baby? My thoughts are if you’re not 100% excited and sure of your decision to raise a child, then it has to be a no. All this talk of not wanting Chas to make a decision she’ll end up regretting. Not to be crass, but she could have a child after this even if she has an abortion now. The only decision she can’t undo is to actually have the child and decide she didn’t really want to raise it. On top of all that, Chas’s reasonsings for not wanting a baby stem from the fact that she messed Aaron up and doesn’t want to do that again. Why did we need this? She already had really good and valid reasons for not having a baby?? But those are not good enough because their selfish, apparently? It feels like we’ve been getting more of Paddy’s POV on why he wants a baby and not enough on Chas. 

It’s also incredibly rude and insulting that ED seems to think that the only way you can really have a bond with a child is through blood. 

Priya... I’m actually interested in where this situation is going. I can’t, in good faith, believe that ED is actually going to give us a child-abusing Priya because that’s really not something to mess around with. So I’m assuming that it’s not going to happen because I will be furious. 

But Priya’s had a bit of a rough time and all this pressure was bound to come crashing down on her eventually--welcome to the wonderful world of having anxiety my friend. Ever since her husband left, Priya has been trying to keep it all together and then she started an affair with Pete behind Leyla’s back (I’m still not sure why this was the route they went cause it came out of nowhere). Her break-down has been a long time coming in a sense. It’d be nice to see her and Robert maintaining that friendship they built the other week because if anyone knows what it feels like to hit rock bottom, my boy Rob does. 

Now the Laurel and Bob thing... I guess I get it? On one hand at least, but it feels incredibly out of character that Laurel would have slept with Bob to begin with and then is sneaking around Brenda’s back about it. 

That’s the thing with Emmerdale: they rely on cheating plots constantly because that’s Interesting and Fun and Sexy and Drama...but there are other ways to get there? The reason that Robert and Aaron worked so well as an affair storyline was because it was completely unexpected and they have such chemistry together. It doesn’t hurt that it all came crashing down around them when it all came out. 

Now, we have a BUNCH of cheating storylines (Moira and Cain while Cain was with Harriet, Leyla and David while David’s with Tracy, Laurel and Bob while Bob’s with Brenda). Those are just the ones from the past two months. 

Cain’s worked for me because of the emotional weight between him and Moria and then how it all came out to Harriet and she was allowed to feel whatever she was feeling. David’s doesn’t work because he’s an asshole who’s hiding it from his wife and then had the fucking gall to be an asshole to her for her past--from before she even knew him--while pretending like he’s husband of the year. While Tracy’s storyline lately was really good and well-acted, it lost so much of the punch because the entire time I’m like, David’s a dick girl, get out!

Now...Bob and Laurel don’t really have the chemistry to pull off this affair storyline. But you know what would have worked a lot better:  friends that are slowly developing feelings for each other. There’s no sex involved so there’s no actual cheating. It’s just the natural progression of some relationships that they have to work through. Bob’s worried that he just wants to try something new like a mid-life crisis or that he’s projecting onto Laurel. Laurel worried that she’s betraying Ashley and wondering if she’s latching onto Bob because he’s been there for her through so much. Are they really falling in love or is it something else? That could have gone on a bit and they would eventually have to come to some sort of decision. 

In summary, sometimes drama doesn’t have to come from cheating. It can come from other sources. Also... give characters personalities and you’ll be surprised how the story happens around them and to them. (It’s seriously like they’re trying to shove the circle block through the triangle hole and that just doesn’t work)

#sometimes i ramble about emmerdale #storylines? what storylines? #emmerdale #emmerdale meta