#both push others away due to their innate fear of abandonment

[miu-the-moose]

The way this could work for both Kokichi and Miu is genuinely sick and twisted.

Writing Prompt #2916

"I'm not lovable. Not in the long term. I know that."

"What?"

"I'm fun for a little bit, but there's too much when you dig down. It's more than anyone else should have to handle. I'm like trash TV—you put it on for a little bit and it makes you feel better about how normal you seem but grating if it's all you watch."

[ovidiomedes]

cannnn you talk about jericho (or ike if you have stuff to say about Ike my friend Ike). i think we all need to talk about jericho

god what can i not say about jericho aster.

the core of his character is his innate desire for friendship and relationships but also his inherent fear of being left behind and abandoned.

he wants friendship. he wants postive relationships with other people but due to how his relationship w his sister died and the way his dad died too. he is so afraid of feeling hurt again he would much rather push people away and not even try to form relationships.

its why his relationships with arley and sara are so vital to him, with arley he almost feels like he Has to be her friend bc of ike. where he does care about her, but he knows she's unlikely to leave him due to both their attachments to ike.

and then sara. jericho and sara are incredible to me bc to an extent, its jericho feeling like it doesn't matter if sara is his friend or not, because she isn't a human. she's a robot, its not the same thing as being attached to someone like ike or arley.

but at the same time! jericho doesn't even realize that his attachment to sara is bc of how human she is, and how much he reminds him of his own sister.

jericho kind of gaslights himself into thinking a friendship with sara is fine bc she isn't human, not realizing her human qualities are precisely what makes him feel so connected to her.

jericho wants to believe he is above human connections and friendships, but the moment he does make those friendships. he can't escape them, bc it's exactly what he craves.

[moo-nstone]

saturn through the houses

saturn in the 1st house: there's an ability present here to make friendships very quickly due to your dependable nature. you keep your word and your promises no matter what. the insecurities and inferiority complexes you felt in your childhood give you the push to pursue your ambitions and work hard; you never want to feel that way again. you put a lot of pressure on yourself to be better. loyal to your core. spontaneity comes hard to you because you're extremely calculated in the risks you take. be careful of how much stress you're inducing yourself with in the name of hard work. very sarcastic!!!! and mature. you have trouble expressing your true self and your original nature. there might be childhood memories you're repressing that are causing this fear of expressing yourself + your opinions. you're characterized by a lot of independence that makes it hard for you to ask others for help. there's a love for contemplation that enables you to achieve wisdom + deep knowledge. 

saturn in the 2nd house: saturn here sets a clear mission on developing self-worth and self-confidence while not tying it to material gains. you may have suffered a period of poverty in your childhood that led you to truly understand the importance of money and how its lack can affect everyone's mental and physical health. now, there's an underlying anxiety about losing stability once again and going back to that dark place. you feel weird whenever you have too much money to spare because your parents might've been very stingy and didn't allow you to buy anything more than the necessary. because of that, you deeply value everything you buy. saturn here teaches you the importance of not obsessing over gaining money while working hard - and most importantly, with integrity - to attain worldly achievements. you shouldn't let greed obscure your morals nor should you feel worthless for not being rich yet - you're worthy of love no matter what. 

saturn in the 3rd house: you're very anxious about your intelligence; you've spent the majority of your younger years believing your intellect to be inferior. you believed yourself to be dumb as a reflection of others' perceptions of you; your parents might have been very hard on you and you struggled to meet their impossibly high standards. saturn here gives you a mission of shedding yourself off of your fears or not being skillful and smart enough, and as you grow older, you begin to understand how impressive your capabilities truly are: you have a highly analytical and perceptive yet chaotic mind, understand things with great depth, and you're extremely strategic. you must also deal with your fear of criticism and learn to express your opinions more bravely. there’s a tendency for shyness. great listener. you hate superficiality of any kind; there's a dislike for small-talk present here, you much rather learn and talk about your various interests. 

saturn in the 4th house: from a very young age, your parents placed a duty on your shoulders of being highly responsible, as if reversing the roles: you were expected to play the adult, being forced out of your childhood so you could be the one to provide stability. you might not have received much attention nor affection from your parents, which gave you a sense of feeling abandoned. to compensate for the lack of attention you received as a child, you want to overcompensate by being extra dutiful and responsible, and by being extremely caring and protective of those around you. your restrictive childhood now makes you fearful of expressing emotions + recognizing your emotional needs, and you fear that you'll never achieve happiness and a sense of fulfillment. you feel like it's your duty to speak the truth and stand up for others. very reserved about your personal life. more than anything, you want a place to feel like home; a place that you can retreat to and heal and be at peace when everything gets too much. 

saturn in the 5th house: you might feel like your light has been dimmed by a parental figure from a very young age. one or both parents might've been very harsh and insulting towards your capabilities and personality, making it hard for you to recognize your potential. there's an underlying anxiety every time you're supposed to feel happy because you fear it might be taken away from you at any moment. saturn here makes it your mission to recognize the words that were thrown at you in your childhood as them projecting their own insecurities, and for you to rebuild your sense of self through self-love and pride in yourself. even if you feel anxious whenever you're having fun, you're incredibly playful and you yearn for a lot of attention. you're very spontaneous and sociable, and you always manage for others to have a great time when around you. there's a tendency to ignore your inner child as a way of acting responsibly, which in return makes you feel a block in your creativity; and exploring your creative side is very important. you can work extremely hard, please remind yourself to take a break from time to time. 

saturn in the 6th house: you strive for perfection in everything you do. you work so hard to try to achieve it, but more often than not, you feel like you can't meet the high standards you set for yourself, which can cause a lot of frustration and self-deprecating thoughts, like believing you're not enough. this can be severely damaging for both your physical and mental health, and induce a lot of stress and overthinking. it's like you're constantly on this battle to one-up yourself, to always improve and be better. saturn here communicates the urge to understand that perfection is an ideal and not something you should strive to achieve because it'll kill your enjoyment of whatever it is that you're trying to be better at, and you have a mission to be gentler with yourself, to work on your self-critical nature and to feel proud of yourself for everything that you've achieved instead of criticizing yourself for not doing better. there's also a need to take care of your health, to keep healthy habits and not neglect your physical needs. 

saturn in the 7th house: you’re one of the most loyal people ever, you take relationships very seriously. you love consistency and understand that it's very important to nurture a relationship daily in order to keep it strong, so you're very dependable and you expect that from the people in your life too. saturn here indicates the importance of cultivating a healthy, reliable source of self-love so that your relationships with others will also remain strong. but the problem with being so committed is that you might stay in a relationship that no longer makes you happy for much longer than you want to - please remember to put yourself and your happiness first. you might also constantly wonder if there's anyone out there for you who will love you as deeply as you love others and who is as committed as you. love and forming meaningful connections might come very hard to you; it's like you're constantly putting walls between yourself and others due to your fear of vulnerability + difficulty in trusting others. 

saturn in the 8th house: you're a hard worker and very patient, extremely loyal when it comes to relationships, and disciplined. there's a tendency to fear change here, to avoid it at all costs as something painful. saturn here gives you the mission to learn to accept transformation as not only inevitable but necessary to your growth as an individual. this placement indicates a fear of abandonment due to what you've experienced in your childhood + your past relationships; now, you have difficulty trusting others because you fear being betrayed, which also causes you to be very secretive and to fear opening up to others, and to feel deeply hurt by things that others would consider insignificant. this can cause a lot of issues in your relationship with intimacy, money and your unconscious, affecting your mental health and making you indulge in unhealthy coping mechanisms. deeply spiritual, but this is something you might fear. transformation leaves room for enormous growth when it comes to wisdom. 

saturn in the 9th house: even in your day-to-day life, you're constantly concentrating on profound issues, thinking about your beliefs, philosophy, religion, etc. if you were forced into adopting a religion when you were younger, there's a chance you might discard religion now, adopting an atheist or nihilistic point of view. you're very skeptical of others' beliefs, preferring to stick to your own because you're not so impressionable, which can work to your detriment. saturn here gives you the urge to practice more open-mindedness, to broaden your perspectives with extensive learning, specialization in an area, intellectual debates and traveling. saturn also teaches you discipline. you might have a fear of expanding your horizons because you understand how harsh and cruel the world can be, but you shouldn’t let that stop you from satiating your innate curiosity. you always advocate for what you believe in, even when all others are too scared to do it, and that's your strength. as the world evolves, so do your personal beliefs and morals, which you continuously work on. 

saturn in the 10th house: you feel a very strong urge to accomplish greatness and achieve success, and you might deal with a lot of fear and anxiety because of the burden you've placed on your shoulders. the truth is: you're terrified of failure. you're a hard worker and perfectionist by nature, wanting to be in control of everything. with saturn placed here, you must learn that to fail is to be human and that there's plenty to learn from committing mistakes. you might take more responsibilities than you can handle, resulting in added stress, so you should learn to ask others for help whenever you need it. you're determined to be successful at the same time that you fear achieving everything you want and still feeling like it wasn't enough. you must learn to stop doubting yourself, and the confidence you will build throughout life will be necessary because you truly are destined for greatness, not because of destiny but the drive and zeal you possess makes you so. remember to take a break from time to time, and to cherish what you've already achieved. 

saturn in the 11th house: you have a lot of acquaintances, but only a few close friends that you trust. you're attracted to mature, serious people who have a clear life purpose, and most of your friends might be older than you. you hate superficiality of all kinds and don't want anything to do with dull people, and you take your friendships very seriously. sometimes, you might take your friendships too seriously, and they can start to become a burden to you. you need a lot of alone time for introspection and, when you’re wanting to ecape your own mind, you might fluctuate between isolation and spending entire weeks going out (even if you feel more alone than ever in the middle of a crowd). there's a clear sense of justice here, a necessity to do what's right. more than anything, you're terrified of losing your identity, of being seen as normal and ordinary, or just as a part of a crowd, and that feeling constantly nags at you whenever you're interacting with others. there's a clear mission here to not let your restless feelings take away your passion from life and to drown out your immense potential. you must be brave when determining what you want out of life, when finding the right path for you. the efforts you take into helping the collective help you grow wiser and more mature. you're very strict about who you surround yourself with, and saturn here urges you to work on accepting the differences between everybody and on your tolerance, and to ease your necessity to be in control. 

saturn in the 12th house: you feel things very intensely, and you often feel completely overwhelmed by your emotions. very sensitive, you can be fearful and insecure and often doubt yourself. here, saturn urges you to fight against your inner demons: this placement represents the fear of the unknown, the fear you feel when dealing with the uncertainty of spirituality, your deep feelings and darkest thoughts. you might fear how complex you are, and feel this sense of guilt about everything without knowing where it comes from. you might need a lot of alone time to restore your energy - but even though you tend to use isolation as a form of escapism, you yearn to become a part of the collective because you have great healing and communicative energy. the problem is that, even though there's a war going inside your mind, you don't want to ask for help because you don't want to be deemed weak or like you depend on others. you might spend a lot of time having discussions with yourself as you escape reality. you should learn to trust others and learn to face your demons instead of locking them away. the lesson here is to accept yourself for who you are. in this house, spirituality would help you achieve great wisdom. there's a potential for great talent in the arts. 

[exhausted-joy]

INTO THE WOODS [YANDERE!JIMIN] [05]

SYNOPSIS: Park Jimin is your needy, clingy, summer camp cabinmate that both creeps you out and makes you regret ever trying to be socially engaged during your summer break. After submitting truckloads of request forms to switch cabins and getting rejected, you realize that you must swallow your pride and get comfy with your new cabinmate. He hates it and so do you—at least, that’s what you thought.

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NOTE: WOW look who’s made an appearance!! so here i am w/ an update after... what? ten thousand years?  not sure if anyone even remembers this fic haha! thanks to my co-writer, luciole (on quotev), this chapter was able to get finished after sitting on one scene for the longest. thank you for waiting and hopefully i can get back into the groove of writing asap! <3

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You want to enjoy your trek back to camp. You really do. But it's incredibly hard to do so when your chronically antisocial cabinmate won't respond to a single word you say.

Each joke you crack is swallowed whole by the silence that follows, and every comment you make on your unfortunate surroundings falls on deaf ears. Perhaps you just weren't funny or you were being annoying, but that couldn't possibly be the case. You would be more inclined to believe that Jimin suddenly converted back into a mute, but you certainly wouldn't buy the Hellen Keller act anytime soon.

Despite his clear avoidance, the silences between you two are no longer awkward - for you, at least. When he doesn't laugh at a joke of yours, you don't feel the intense sear of embarrassment raising the hairs on your skin but, instead, there's a comfortable silence.

You'd like to believe that maybe he's not so much of a verbal laugh kind of guy, he just prefers to keep it all in. It's an unintelligible assumption, but it helps somewhat soothe your irrational fears of Jimin growing a sudden hatred for you.

"Hey, Jimin," you call from behind him, having lagged a few paces back due to his somehow inexhaustible stamina that keeps him in the lead pretty much at all times. "Can we please take a break? I think my lungs are about to collapse."

The boy halts in his steps and looks back to give you a single nod, his face stoic and unreadable. You shift uneasily and avoid eye contact, suddenly unnerved by his change in personality, though not surprised. You spot a large log covered in a thick layer of moss a few feet away and make your way over to sit on it.

Plopping down, you think back to anything you may have said that could have offended him in some way. Was it the joke you made about how big his hoodie was on you? Perhaps he had thought you were calling him fat? You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, if that's the case.

You thought you were making some progress with him, but it looks like you are back at square one again. It's discouraging, yet you aren't quite sure why.

Did you really want to be his friend? Or were you only bearing the weight of his strange tendencies because, in retrospect, you literally had no other choice?

You glance at Jimin, watching as he coolly rests against a tree turned away from you, his dark hair falling into his eyes. You just can't seem to figure him out; one moment he's the one initiating conversation and the next he's pulling back as if he's been burned. You wish you had some kind of sixth sense to help you understand the burdened inner workings that make Park Jimin, but you unfortunately don't.

And you're honestly too much of a coward to ask him if everything's alright, so maybe it's best if you just give him some space. He can't ignore you forever - you live in the same cabin after all, and a pretty small one at that. He would have to talk to you sooner or later. Right?

You sigh, shaking the intrusive thoughts from your mind. There is no use in mulling over something you can't control; if Jimin wants to indulge in his bouts of teenage angst, then so be it. You take a moment to recollect yourself and catch your breath, taking the chance to tentatively attempt at tidying up the bird's nest of hair that sits tangled atop your head.

But the bird's nest seems determined to stay until you get hold of a hairbrush, which, considering your current situation, could still be quite some time away. Getting up in favor of leaning against a tree yourself, you absentmindedly mirror Jimin's stance as you watch him from the corner of your eye. Nope, still not one sign of social capability.

This time your sigh is louder. Loud enough for him to hear and, low and behold, he turns his head in your direction to look at you. At this point, his constant changes in behavior from open to antisocial to intrigued are starting to get on your nerves, and you decide to show it.

Narrowing your eyes enough for him to notice, you turn away to stare at a tree in front of you which looks exactly like all the other hundreds of trees surrounding you.

Stunning, you think ironically. Like I haven't seen enough chunks of nature in the last twenty four hours.

Suddenly, a prickly feeling creeps up your spine. You're familiar enough with it by now - he's looking at you. Staring, more accurately, so intensely you can feel goosebumps welting up the skin of your arms despite the soft fabric of the hoodie that shields you from the cold morning air. But you don't turn around, you don't bother at this point.

Jimin musters you from his peripheral vision. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended you somehow? A million questions of the like course through his head all at once.

Even though he hasn't been able to come up with an appropriate topic for a new conversation after awkwardly ending your last one, he feels somewhat wronged by your behaviour. It's not his fault he was too shy to just start babbling about, even if that's what you might want.

He can feel a familiar heat crawl up his neck, whether from shame, embarrassment or anger - he can't tell. Jimin wants to talk to you. So what's stopping him? His fear of abandonment? His innate ability to drive away those he loves? The possibilities spin through his mind, fueling the insecurities that burn fiercely within.

Whatever it is, the answer to his questions are not yet transparent, and he refuses to bend backwards to figure it out. In the end, this struggle would all be for nothing; you are a temporary piece on this board of chess, a queen who will fall if he gets any closer. When camp ends, so will whatever this is. It happens, it's life. Right?

And in that case, is this the reason why Jimin is currently making his way over to you, palms clammy as he wracks his mind for a conversation starter, for something, anything to say?

You raise an eyebrow when you see the boy approaching you. Oh, he finally wants to talk now? You scoff but hold back on a clipped comment, knowing how sensitive Jimin can sometimes get. You don't exactly know him that well yet either, though you honestly wouldn't put it past him to spring a knife on you if you say something that doesn't sit well with him.

"Yes?" You question as your roommate halts in your wake, his eyes gleaming unsurely in the midst of the early morning sunlight.

He peers at you, seemingly conflicted. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again like a fish. The cycle continues a couple times before you begin to find it humorous. You hold it in though, for his sake, and gesture for him to just spit it out already.

"...Are you mad at me?"

The question stikes you silly, and you are hardly able resist the urge to actually burst out laughing. So it has been a misunderstanding. Here you are, pondering over the trillions of possibilities as to why this boy could be mad at you, yet him thinking you are mad at him not being a single one.

Still, you are incredulous at this revelation, and you do your best to express it in the most unassuming way possible.

"Me? I thought you were mad at me!" You cry, eyes almost bugging out of your skull with vexation. Jimin tilts his head, slightly furrowing his eyebrows in perplexion.

The way his hair moves across his forehead as he tilts his head makes your heart flip, but you push the feeling away. It must be low blood pressure from your lack of proper meals the past day and night. Looking at the shifts in Jimin's expressions, it seems a lightbulb has flickered to life with the way his eyes glaze over in realization.

"Ah, I see.." He breathes, almost in relief, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. Your eyes widen for a millisecond at the unusual display of emotion, but then he shocks you even further when takes two large steps towards you. Now he's suddenly right in front of you, impossibly close with you craning your head back to look up at him.

"..Uh..?" You whisper in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows as his hands slowly rise up to your face.

In a flash, Jimin grabs the drawstrings of the hoodie and quickly pulls, scrunching up the hood and masking your face from view like you had done earlier at the campsite.

"J-Jimin?!" You squeak as you hear the pounding of footsteps and a quiet chuckle that reminds you of a chuffing tiger.

Astounded, you struggle to pull the hood from your face. When you do, the only thing you see is a glimpse of Jimin's white shirt before he disappears behind a tangle of large branches. A twinge of fear pulls at your gut and you take off after him, afraid that you might lose him in the thicket of eternal tree trunks.

It doesn't occur to you that the usually stoic boy just showed you his way of having fun. Of joking around, of horse play. Why exactly was it so strange to you? Shouldn't you be happy that he's acting like this so openly? You aren't sure how you're supposed to feel but, for now, you can only think about how worried you've become at this sudden surfacing of positive growth.

Was he perhaps.. warming up to you? It's a thought so obscure that you almost laugh out loud at yourself but as you catch up to Jimin moments later, you are almost rendered speechless at the sight of him smiling.

It's a genuine, toothy smile that reaches his sparkling eyes and you're shocked to see the sight of his pearly whites. But as quickly as it comes, it goes, wiped from his face in seconds as he turns away to face a dirt path that leads through a somewhat familiar scene with trees, trees, more trees and-

Was that.. smoke? It billows through the tops of the trees, its fading grey fingers curling up into the morning sky. You've half a mind to jump up and scream with joy. A campfire! And from the looks of it, a big one. Of course, one can never be entirely sure that said smoke doesn't come from illegal and possibly murderous poachers camping nearby, but the chance is considerably slim.

Jimin feels himself tensing up beside you. So this is it, huh? His blissfully isolated alone-time with you was finally coming to an end. Disappointment curls in his stomach; things would go back to how they used to be, wouldn't they? He almost wants to pick you up and carry you back through the trees and into the small clearing where you'd spent the night. Where he'd made some of the happiest memories in a long time.

Of course, semi-kidnapping you back into the forest was out of the question. The last thing he wants is for you to hate him, avoid him like the plague, to shun him too just like the others-

You suddenly grab his hand without a warning, immediately stopping his train of thought- and if he isn't mistaken, there's a tiny blush on your cheeks. His heart skips at least three beats, the way your slender fingers curl around his bigger hand making his insides feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy.

The smile you shoot him is dazzling as you practically drag him by his hand towards what is, hopefully, camp. Running after you, he hesitantly entwines his fingers with yours, too.

—

Who knew isolation could be so blissful. After having been swarmed by fellow campers with a hurricane of concern, curiosity, and wonder how you hadn't been eaten alive by a cave bear, the camp supervisors had mercifully decided to send you and your socially inept partner to your cabin to relax. Formalities and questions would be dealt with tomorrow.

You take one long lazy look around your temporary living space. Sleep looks irresistible, almost delectable right about now. You let out a lengthy yawn as you plop down on your bed, all the drained energy and missing sleep from your little expedition suddenly hitting you like a brick.

Jimin, at the other end of your shared room, seems in a rather similar state to you, oddly enough. You can't recall him ever even so much as expressing the need to sleep- no yawning, no eye rubbing, nothing. Maybe some good old fresh air wore down his vampiric tendencies a bit. Your roommate has already silently shuffled into his own bed, albeit horizontally, although that didn't seem to bother him at all.

As much as you would like falling asleep on the spot, diving in the peaceful silence between you and Jimin, the way the bends of your arms and the hairs in your neck stick together tells you that you need a shower, desperately.

Already kicking off your shoes, you do your best not to fall asleep on your feet walking towards the small bathroom, having just enough presence of mind left to grab a pair of clean pyjamas before entering. Once inside, you basically rip off your sweaty clothes and toss them Kobe-style into a hamper nearby.

The cold water hitting your skin feels like bliss after a while of overheating. When you emerge, you can feel more like an actual human being rather than a caveman with the bodily hygiene of an ape. You get dressed and leave the bathroom with a sigh and a tired, relieved smile on your lips.

Jimin props himself up on his elbows, his gaze lingering on you a lot longer than necessary. You might not be aware, but he notices right away; above your cozy pyjamas, you've automatically thrown on something else - his hoodie. His hoodie. That strange sensation he always seems to get when he sees you drowning in his jacket creeps up his throat again to grasp him in a chokehold.

You take notice of Jimin's fall-back into staring out of the corner of your eye, but it bothers you strangely little. It would appear that, while mostly being incredibly, cripplingly awkward, being lost in the woods with your cabin mate had somehow brought you closer in a mutual, silent way. Maybe a peaceful co-existence is possible for the two of you after all.

With shallow motions you crawl under your blanket, turning so you face Jimin's side of the room. With your last bit of conscience, you shoot your groggy cabin mate an exhausted, yet earnest smile. And before you're out like a light, you can still see him inconspicuously reciprocate your action, all while gazing intently as if you might disappear if he so much as glances away.

His smile... your mind slips into a state of comatose, your heavy eyelids finally closing as your train of thought drifts into dreamland. The dark haired boy listens as your breaths grow heavy, watching as your body relaxes beneath the sheets. His eyes flicker around the room, his face subsequently heating up.

Her smile is really nice.  Jimin thinks bashfully as he settles into bed, facing away from you, and quickly pulling his blanket over his head. Just a simple thought, but if only you could see the grin on his face right now.

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[gateauxes]

the war on gender terror

At this point in my life, the presence of mostly-white liberal feminism is inescapable. While I'm excited to see more people taking baby steps to a radical analysis, largely I am frustrated. On the other hand, involuntary exposure to popular feminism is the reason why I'm noticing a trend in it. Here's my report from where I'm standing: the liberal feminists don't know it, but reactionaries are trying to scare them.

Reactionary feminist projects begin the same way as any other reactionary project - concern trolling liberals over topics at arms' length from the main goals of exclusion and domination. With regard to reactionary feminists the progression of topics are well-known: women's sports & 'human trafficking', then domestic violence shelters & kinky porn, then policing gender-segregated bathrooms, defunding trans healthcare, and opposing sex work of any kind. I've been watching a pessimistic thread emerge in liberal feminist (and radical!) circles which I believe has been pushed into place by reactionary feminists. This bio-pessimism places women into a perpetual state of victimhood that can never truly end due to the essential rapacious nature of men. If this seems like the same shit the second-wave lesbian separatists were peddling, that's because it is. What I want to question is how today's essentialist pessimism differs from its initial appearance.

RADFEMS ARE OBSESSED WITH DICK

Reactionary feminists have not dispensed with a religious-conservative perspective on the power of the penis - and by extension they imagine women identically to how the rest of the right views women. The penis, apparently, is the mechanism by which rape becomes possible. Therefore, any engagement with a person with a penis is a grave risk. Vulnerability is a mistake if you might be dealing with a rapist. The MeToo movement activated an enormous public forum about how incredibly prevalent the violence is, but I now see it used as a tool for re-framing this prevalence as a biological reality. (MeToo, even without being used as a tool, was ineffective at acknowledging that violence is perpetrated by all sorts of people). An explosion of survivors talking openly about violence as an unacceptable status quo has been infiltrated by reactionary feminists who whisper that this is the fate of all women, always. The new bio-law absorbs the third wave's progress in acknowledging diversity of experience - right up to the point where it would be forced to note that sexual nature, like categories of racially-dictated nature, is a myth.

This pessimism rooted in the power of the penis is hypervigilance beyond a realistic assessment of risk. (I also blame true crime podcasts and the media in general) This is not the careful awareness of one's surroundings which comes naturally to many of us. What I'm describing is avoiding going out at all, because of statistics on sexual violence which may not even reflect the risks in the neighbourhood. This, for instance, is purchasing and insuring a vehicle for the express purpose of avoiding public transit. I frequently notice that popular discussion of domestic violence neglects to mention the disproportion of violence toward people with disabilities, asserting that all of us have identical risk. Ultimately, this is the justification for a culture of exclusion as the only recourse to the ever-present threat of men. The fortress must be defended, and the enemy could be anywhere.

BUT HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET LAID?

I do not want love or children, so my interest in sex is purely recreational. I have been told this is not in line with my female nature - I stand before you deviant and happy. However, anyone attracted to men must grapple with the contradiction of desire and very real risks. I support caution, and even precaution. My concern is with a bio-law that requires a baseline of suspicion if one is to survive, the assumption that one is always a moment away from violence. To be explicit, how am I supposed to have fun when I am letting the enemy penetrate my figurative fortress?

I think this is why kink is such a problem for reactionary feminists. The only way to make the horror of sleeping with the enemy worse is to find that some people like to confront, satirize, and role play the power dynamic. To choose recreational pain or literal bondage flies in the face of the notion that a woman’s lot is to be in constant pain, and to tolerate penetration as a miserable necessity. The reactionary feminist must sleep with one eye open, aware that her biology has already sealed her fate, and mitigate vulnerability by excluding the threat, since she can’t defend herself (biologically speaking). This is why trans women can’t stay at the domestic violence shelter, this is why you should worry for your life if your boyfriend watches kinky porn. As with vanilla dating, there are true risks - and reasonable precautions. But kink is about play with vulnerability - there is no room for play under the martial law of bio-pessimism. By hijacking post-MeToo popular feminism, reactionaries can reinsert the bone-chilling suggestion that it’s all rape, all the time. All the men want kinky sex, because it’s the closest they can come to hurting women the way they secretly wish to. According to this logic, the only way to safely navigate the risk is constant surveillance of men, the self, and any woman who could be a traitor. He’d better not be watching kinky porn, you’d better not be watching kinky porn, and the women in the kinky porn are either hapless victims or remorseless collaborators. Once we have arrived at this point, it’s obvious why the next step is a crusade against any pornography, and a mission to ensure that kink is understood as something men want and women tolerate. 

How can reactionary feminists get this done? By linking the prevalence of trauma with the increased visibility of alternative sexuality & gender, from kink-at-pride to polyamory to transcending assigned gender. They ask, do you feel uncomfortable when you see all this change? We’ve all been traumatized - who do these people think they are, flaunting a lifestyle that feels wrong to feminists like you? You should trust your gut, they urge. Perform a little more vigilance to be sure you’re safe. If you find yourself unable to open a dating app or sit next to a man on the bus without feeling deep dread and revulsion, that’s vigilance, and realistic given the state of things. Any - and most - men mean women harm.

REDPILLS AND RADFEMS BELIEVE THE SAME SHIT

Incels hate women, reactionary feminists love a certain kind of woman. This distinction is relevant, especially since incels pose a physical threat to women in general whereas reactionary feminists only attack trans people, black athletes, sex workers, the wrong kind of queers, kinksters, child athletes... Despite their own active hostility toward many types of women, reactionary feminists hold up incels/redpillers/the far right as evidence of the threat that all women live under. There is no doubt that women face misogynist and antifeminist violence. Reactionary feminists are are far from the only ones highlighting this. What’s worth investigating are the given reasons that a target is vulnerable, and what should be done to mitigate risk in the future. In these, an incel and a reactionary feminist are in perfect harmony. Instead of a realistic assessment of risk at an individual level, or an assessment of group dynamics that allowed a survivor-victim to fall through the cracks, both parties will insist that all women are simply unsafe at all times. This notion suits a reactionary feminist’s goal of closed-rank suspicion, and an incel’s dream of terrified submission. This perspective neglects to really ask why things turned out the way they did, because that’s not the point. Whether women are innately inferior or innately vulnerable, we must travel in flocks if we want to survive. The reactionary feminist offers herself as the shepherd, having assured the flock that the enemy is close at hand. Women cannot, of course, be a pack of wolves. Members of a wolf pack work cooperatively but diverge at will.

THE WAR ON GENDER TERROR

The cumulative effect of this mindset and focus is a miserable hypervigilance, which is further hostile to any who are not miserable and vigilant. We know this scrutiny well from living inside a war on terror, which resulted in a vast expansion of state power to exclude, surveil, and punish. Because they have not abandoned their desire to dominate, reactionary feminists would like to do the same along the lines of gender law. Exclusion requires a concrete set of criteria by which a person can be marked acceptable or unacceptable, and there is trouble when a person shifts between the two. Whether you’re an immigration agent or an officer of the gender police, you’ve got to demonize those who shift, and shifting itself. Special attention should be paid to possible ulterior motives. At the overt end, this looks like the myth of the predatory trans woman and the slavery-complicit sex worker. However, these will not be widely accepted until the audience is made nervous by less ridiculous threats with a basis in reality. Sex trafficking is real, and pickup artists really do share tips online about how to pick up, manipulate, and coerce women. However, alarmist chain-mail suggesting that ‘gang members’ are stealing women off the street via box trucks does not reflect reality, but rather supposes that the threat could be any construction worker or labourer with a truck. Given the way people of colour are disproportionately represented in blue-collar work, the implications of this racially-biased hypervigilance should be obvious. The rapid dissemination of information (true or false) online is useful when stoking fear of ulterior motives. Genuine desire to spread a message that could save another woman fuels the sharing of partially-true and emotionally charged statements. Given the existence of incel and pickup artist subcultures, it seems believable that most men could have consumed advice on how to covertly film during sex, or remove a condom without being noticed. Whether that is true or not is irrelevant - the thing to do is be cautious. No matter how they seem, anyone could be concealing their motives. It begins to make sense to suspect a male social worker, or police bathrooms. Furthermore, failure to agree to this assessment of risk is evidence of insufficient solidarity with the rest of the female sex. Solidarity is imperative, given the horrors made visible by feminists who just want to protect women. Inaction could suggest complicity, and asking for a source on a claim is indicative that one does not believe victims. An avalanche of scorn awaits those who ask questions out of turn. the terror cannot end until the defenses are fortified and the infiltrators exposed. As footage of atrocities is replayed during news coverage of foreign occupations, the danger inherent in womanhood must be grimly acknowledged when we consider stepping out into the world.

WHAT IS MY POINT?

Reactionary feminists cling to the second-wave notion of sex and gender as stable categories by which most oppression can be measured. For reactionary feminist strategies to be accepted by a popular feminism informed by intersectionality, popular feminists must at least partially believe in the inherent vulnerability of women or the base instincts of men. While this sentiment was more readily at hand during the second wave of feminism, third wave feminism resists homogenizing by sex, race, or class. While white liberal/popular feminism has an embarrassing tendency to acknowledge intersectionality only out of politeness and/or use it as a cudgel, even performative acknowledgement is a ward against overt essentialist dogma. For this reason, reactionary feminists must harness movements like MeToo, incel attacks, and further misconstrue actual misogynist violence to encourage hypervigilance against terror. The war on gender terror perverts the desire to confront diverse facets of misogyny into the pursuit of covert internal threats. The war compels commitment to defending the home front. A feeling of perpetual vulnerability is the perfect environment for the proliferation of exclusionary strategy. We must feel our goodness and our weakness to the core. Fully enjoying relationships with men, sexual diversity, and private moments of peace are collateral in pursuit of remaining ever-vigilant.

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 1 - Moving In

"Whose dumb idea was it to go camping like this anyway?" Grey grumbled, smacking away a tree branch that seemed determined to get friendly with his face.

Walking behind him, his twin sister Lillian rolled her eyes and poked the small of her brother's back. "Yours. It was your idea."

"Oh please Crystal! Please oh please might we go live at the haunted house in the woods where we'll certainly perish! I, Dorian Grey Duvall, swear on my sister's honor to let you protect me!" Rayne fluttered her eyelashes, lowering her voice to sound more like Dorian. She yanked the handcart she was dragging over a set of roots, careful to steady its contents before resuming her walk.

"Has to swear on my honor cuz he doesn't have any of his own left after the last time," Lillian snickered, while Grey pointedly ignored their teasing and continued clearing the overgrown path.

Bringing up the rear with a digital camera trained on everyone's back, Crystal grinned and panned the camera to take in the large, dense trees, and huge, leafy bushes. "For a haunted forest, it's actually pretty nice here. Ah, more meadow rue! Specifically thalictrum rochebrunianum, neat."

"Gesundheit," Rayne said, eliciting giggles from the group.

"The lacy one over there with the purple flowers," Crystal clarified. "There's some rue anemone and meadow rue 'splendide' around here too. Don't touch the white flowery plant up ahead by the way, it's giant hogweed. The leaves and sap can give you phytophotodermatitis, making you blister up in the sun."

"Bro, how do you remember any of this? And as for you, you're a scary bitch," Grey cringed away from the plant in question while swearing at it, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at its pretty little flower clusters.

"I read a lot."

"Me too, doesn't mean I absorb any of it! I spent like six hours on Wikipedia the other day, don't even fully remember what I looked up."

"Was it about The Hobbit or Merlin? Cuz that's all you ever look up."

"Look, Lils. I know I'm walking in the front and all, but you don't need to stab me in the back like that. Also sometimes it's Pacific Rim, thank you very much."

"Was it Pacific Rim?"

"No it was The Hobbit."

The group talking and laughing were the self-proclaimed 'Fairy Rock' band Aos Sí Echtrae. Each of them wore a hiking backpack containing personal items, while Rayne also tugged along a sturdy handcart holding supplies and instruments with ease - a drum kit, harp, bouzouki, and keyboard piled up alongside some smaller instruments and the camping stuff Crystal insisted they bring along.

Though their banter was light-hearted and comfortable, they took their excursion very seriously. After all, they'd temporarily rented a locally infamous haunted house to use for a music video! It was a large investment, but they'd become popular online and had enough supporters that they were able to fulfill one of their member's dearest dreams.

Dorian Duvall, or Grey as he preferred to be called by friends, and his twin sister Lillian Duvall played bouzouki and keyboard respectively. Both had the same willowy stature, button nose and almond eye shape, but despite their similarities they both gave off very different impressions. Where Lillian looked soft and gentle, with large doe-like green eyes, and a kind smile, Grey had a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes and a roguish grin that he utilized with careless abandon. Lillian wore her sleek black hair long and loose, falling down past her waist and kept away from her face by a cloth headband, while Grey wore his hair in a high ponytail decorated with small braids.

As the one who absolutely loved haunted houses and anything spooky, it was Grey's idea to film on location for their new Halloween-themed album, Masquerade. Though it was the middle of July, they were hoping to get everything ready for an September promotional release before the album dropped in October, and so hurriedly set up for their video shoot in order to give themselves plenty of time for editing.

All four of them worked together to compose their music, write lyrics, and design stage costumes as well as fan merchandise. They also lacked anything resembling a lead vocalist, taking turns depending on what sound worked best with each song, and preferring harmonies rather than solos.

"Ray! There's a log up here!" Grey called out suddenly, kicking the fallen tree blocking their path. Rayne grunted acknowledgment, and shuffled around Lillian to help move the obstruction.

Rayne Rose played the drums, and also did a majority of the heavy lifting due to being the strongest person present in any room that didn't involve professional weightlifters. Her muscular arms were covered with watercolor flower tattoos, which she proudly showed off by refusing to wear any shirt with sleeves. Her curly hair, dyed a gradient of aqua blue and purple, was cropped close to her face for summertime weather. The short style purposefully revealed ear gauges and more than a dozen total ear piercings, matching the many piercings on her brows, lips, and nose.

The twins had fresh yet roguish charms, while Rayne had a more heroic air with heavy brows and an intense black gaze over lips naturally curved into an amused smirk. She dusted off her hands after tossing the log aside with little effort, while Grey panted for breath from the exertion of merely helping her lift it. Crystal, for her part, made sure to get the whole thing on video for future blackmail purposes.

Crystal Rose, Rayne's older sister, played the harp. Unlike her athletic and statuesque sister, Crystal was on the soft and plump side. Her long, wavy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy twist to keep it off her neck, the ends still pink from the last time she dyed it. Her face was round and childish, with bluish gray eyes above an upturned nose and broad cheekbones, unremarkable features made more charming by her innate overwhelming charisma and natural exuberance.

She was the kind of person that random strangers would strike up a conversation with, lost kids would try to hold her hand, wild animals would approach like an old friend, and when she raised her voice even the most crowded room would quiet down. She was also the kind of person who got carded when buying alcohol despite being thirty years of age, due to what Grey dubbed 'Acute Babyface Syndrome'.

"Anyone need to clean their glasses?" Crystal asked, pulling a cloth from her pocket to swipe hers clean. Aside from Rayne, who wore her contacts, Grey and Lillian both opted to wear glasses for the hike so they wouldn't have to worry about losing a contact forever if they tripped - a serious and ever-present concern for the slightly clumsy twins.

"I'm good!"

"Not yet, thanks."

"I'll take it," Rayne said, keeping her expression blank, and Crystal narrowed her eyes.

"If you wipe your sweaty face with the glasses cloth I'll push you into the patch of poison ivy over there."

"Ope, nevermind then."

The haunted house was a thirty minute hike from the nearest road, along a mostly uphill path that hardly anyone ever used and certainly wasn't wide or steady enough for any automobiles. By the time they reached the stone fence encircling the house's enormous overgrown yard, everyone except Rayne was ready to collapse.

"I'm gonna be so in shape after this if my binder doesn't kill me first," Grey wheezed, leaning on the stone fence and looking up at the haunted house of his dreams with a longing yet exhausted expression. It stood atop a hill in the distance, surrounded by several acres worth of mostly empty property speckled by a few large trees and scraggly bushes. Behind it was a small barn, a chicken coop that hadn't seen use in ages, and a greenhouse conspicuously lacking anything actually green. "A stone brick cottage in the middle of the woods overgrown by vines, a sagging peaked roof with exposed beams, and gaping windows whose panes are cracked like spiderwebs... Looks spooky enough! If the door doesn't creak ominously when we open it, I'm filing a complaint."

Rayne pulled the handcart into the yard, then glanced over her shoulder at Crystal, who was panning the camera up to take a wide shot of the house from just inside the fence gate. "How's it feel, Coco?"

Crystal frowned, furrowing her brows. All four of them believed in the supernatural after they all experienced several strange circumstances growing up, and Crystal had long proven to have abilities that most people would've considered fake nonsense.

She kept a dream diary after experiencing incidents where she'd dream events before they occurred, and wanted to prove to herself it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Whenever something weird happened, she was the first to alert everyone and get them away from danger before anything bad happened, and had an uncanny sense of whether people were lying.

"Hard to say. It does feel... Weird. The walk through the whole forest was fine, but as soon as I walked into the yard... The air's different."

"Really?" Grey raised his eyebrows, hopping over the fence and holding out his arms. He was the second most sensitive to any external oddities, with a particular penchant for finding rather nasty unexplained phenomena. After a few seconds he frowned as well. "No, yeah. That's a weird vibe for sure. It's like, the forest was fine and funky fresh, then you get over here and it's..."

"Musty," Crystal and Grey finished at the same time, and exchanged wry smiles.

"Could be trepidation from perceived fears," Lillian pointed out, gesturing toward the house. Though she also believed in the supernatural, Lillian also liked trying to find reasonable explanations before resorting to the occult. "The big empty windows feel eerie because people expect houses to be brighter and look more lived in, right? It's possible it's just a subconscious response to an old, dilapidated building."

"Dilapidated..." Rayne muttered, raising her eyebrows as she surveyed the house. She had a sensitivity to people's emotions and motivations, and could sometimes pick up lingering feelings from objects, but she didn't feel anything in particular coming from the building. "I don't think it looks that bad? We've lived in worse."

"It hurts me, physically, every time you and Crystal tell us about that kind of thing," Lillian sighed, patting her hand over her heart while Grey nodded next to her. "This place looks gross! It's horrible to imagine little Ray and little Coco in a place even worse than this..."

"Hey, they hired someone to clean the inside and arrange some basic furniture for us to use," Grey said. "It won't be fancy, but the interior shouldn't be too gross! And we'll sleep in the same room for safety! After all... This is the Corpse Consuming Cottage!"

"Ugh, that name..." Crystal and Rayne both cringed at the same time, while Lillian's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, it's called what?!"

"Yup! Bad, right? But it's earned the name cuz of how many people have gone missing here. Poof! Gone without a trace! Every single person who's ever bought this place has disappeared, along with any family they brought along." Grey grinned, wiggling his fingers at his suddenly horrified twin. "I even made a spooky spreadsheet citing all my sources, aren't you proud? It's legit, this place is either hella haunted or hella cursed."

"Will we be okay!?" Lillian muttered, color draining from her cheeks.

"There's a loophole," Rayne said, and Crystal nodded.

"Yeah, we didn't buy the house. We're just renting. Supernatural stories are always big sticklers on rules, right? Chanting something three times, turning a certain way, walking a certain pattern. If buying the house is part of the problem, then renting it shouldn't be counted as the same thing because possession isn't being transferred." Crystal turned the camera to zoom in on poor Lillian's pale face, hiding her mischievous grin behind the lens. "Theoretically."

"Don't even pretend you aren't absolutely terrified too, Miss I Can't Go On The Haunted House Ride At The Amusement Park I Have A Doctor's Note," Grey scoffed.

"I don't like ghosts or wraiths or poltergeists or whatever wicked whatsits terrorize the night because I feel bad for them thanks very much, but..." Crystal glanced over at the house and frowned, furrowing her brow again. "I feel bothered but not... Threatened? Like there's something here watching but it won't hurt us."

"That's as good as a gold star to me. Let's crack this bitch open and make some lunch!" With renewed vigor, Grey fished the key from his shorts pocket and ran up the creaky old porch to the front door. "Come on in, it's nice and cool inside! Comparatively speaking, I don't think there's an air conditioner. Just fans. But it'll be clean!"

Like he'd promised, the interior was cleaner than the exterior condition belied. Furniture was sparse, but they were all fine wood antiques with a hand-polished sheen. Everyone dropped their backpacks in the foyer and stretched for a moment before getting to work.

"Water's on!" Grey called from the kitchen, where he set the tap to run. "There's dishes and cookware in here too!"

"Silverware?" Lillian called back, in the middle of helping Crystal and Rayne unload the handcart.

"Yup, as requested! I think they're all antique like the rest of everything here."

"Don't you dare break any antique dishes, Dorian Grey!"

"No promises!"

"Electricity works," Crystal said with some surprise, flicking a nearby switch after setting her harp case on the floor in the living room, alongside a towering pile of boxes holding personal things they'd had delivered via the realtor. She held her breath to listen for any crackles or pops, but the overhead light didn't give so much as a flicker. "Wires might actually be okay? That's surprising, this house is really old. Must've been recently renovated."

"Probably to try and reel in prospective buyers," Rayne said, setting down three drum cases. The rest of her kit was already unloaded, so she took a moment to glance around the living room with Crystal. "Inside looks much nicer than outside."

"We can make it look spookier with filters and editing," Crystal said, running her finger against the windowsill. When it came up without dust, she furrowed her brows. "They were real thorough cleaning this place."

"Found the terrifying cellar!" Grey's faint muffled cry echoed from somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of Lillian shouting his full name and charging off after him.

"Any cold spots?" Crystal shouted down the stairs after circling the entire bottom floor trying to find them. The cellar door was tucked into the kitchen's pantry, which was a full walk-in room rather than a little cabinet.

Since the house was so far from town, part of the rental contract involved the current real estate agent making sure the kitchen was stocked before tenants took over. All the shelves were packed full with newly purchased dry goods and spices, mostly sorted into pretty glass jars for aesthetic appeal.

"No cold spots, just some nice shelving, big old ground freezer and a wine rack! Fruit preserves and stuff but they didn't leave any complimentary wine. Zero out of ten, not recommended."

"What makes it terrifying then?"

"Big spiders."

Crystal grimaced and backed away from the cellar door, narrowly evading Lillian as she retreated up the stairs at maximum speed.

The house was surprisingly large. The ground floor had a large open kitchen with an attached breakfast room, a living room, a dining room, a sitting room, a study with empty floor-to-ceiling bookshelves alongside display cabinets, and a laundry/changing room attached to a bathroom with an enormous sunken bath large enough to be used as a hot tub.

"I would buy this house just for the tub," Lillian said, stroking the porcelain with obvious affection.

"Please don't," Grey muttered. "We're evading the horrible disappearance curse via fairy loopholes, don't you go walking into the trap face-first like that!"

"Fine, but when we leave, we're bringing the tub with us."

"Yeah sure that's completely feasible and not at all slightly insane."

The upper floor had five large bedrooms with attached changing rooms, two lavatories, and a walk-in storage closet. Rayne carried their bags into the master bedroom, then returned to the handcart to retrieve the extra supplies they brought - a couple of brand new air mattresses, blankets, boxes of instant food, tents in case the house was in worse shape than expected, a first aid kit, and little tools like scissors, binoculars, and lighters.

"This place is supposed to be super haunted and cursed, yet..." Rayne hummed to herself, patting the mattress in the master bedroom. Every bed in the house was neatly made, with clean sheets and blankets that still smelled like soap. "Won't need the air mattresses. They really worked hard to make this place nice, huh?"

Finally, the attic under the peaked roof had a few small gaps in the shingles, but otherwise lacked any signs of weathering or exposure damage. The only things occupying the space were a few cobwebs in the darkest corners. "Ugh, nothing for us to snoop through," Grey muttered, poking his head into the attic for only moment before heading back downstairs to start moving boxes from the living room into various bedrooms for later sorting.

Crystal and Rayne turned the fans on in all the rooms to start circulating air, opening windows on the shaded side of the house to catch any stray breezes, while Lillian and Grey got started on making lunch. The house which stood empty for so long soon filled with laughter, conversation, and the smell of good food.

"I just can't get over how unhaunted this haunted house is," Grey lamented, tapping a fork against his empty plate. "I've been looking and there's not so much as a suspiciously shadowed corner or creaky stair board!"

"Are you sure those disappearances were legit?" Lillian asked, gesturing for Crystal to pass the salt so she could douse her potato salad. "You checked the sources themselves, right?"

"I did! That's why it's so weird!" Grey drained the remaining water from his glass, glaring down at the ice cubes rattling at the bottom. "Other than the terrible cell reception, weak internet signal, and our gut feelings, there's really no sign of anything being weird. I was promised jumpscares!"

"You were promised no such thing," Rayne muttered around a mouthful of grilled chicken sandwich, deftly capturing some lettuce before it escaped her lips and hit the table. "The outside looks spooky enough for use in our video, we can think of this like a vacation and relax for a bit until we have to leave."

"There's a barn out back, maybe that's haunted?" Crystal suggested, but Grey shook his head.

"I already checked... It's clean as a whistle. No disturbed earth or rattling rusty tools or anything!"

"Would you feel better if one of us got possessed by a demon?"

"Maybe. It'd have to be a really good possession though, if you're not crawling on the ceiling I want a refund."

"Oh, you're paying us?"

"Hell no, a refund of my feelings. My feelings!"

"Speaking of feelings, how do you feel, Coco? Lils?" Rayne interrupted just as Grey was about to get dramatic. "That was a doozy of a hike. You guys alright?"

Both Lillian and Crystal suffered from several health problems when they were younger, and were still weaker than the average person because of it. They had to work harder to remain healthy than most people did.

Lillian, since her mouth was full, flexed her arm and gave a thumbs up to show she was feeling alright. Once her mouth was clear of food, she added: "Mostly just sore, but nothing a long bath and some music won't cure!"

"Coco?"

Crystal gave a start, realizing she'd been staring out the nearest window for awhile and tuning out the conversation. She turned back to Rayne and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just feel a bit woozy, I think."

"Sensing something weird?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Crystal sighed, opening a can of grape soda and pouring it into her glass. "I still feel like we're being watched. And..."

She hesitated, then shook her head. No matter how Grey tried to cajole the rest of the sentence from her, Crystal kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. If she felt they were in danger she wouldn't be so tight-lipped, so they dropped the subject and started discussing their upcoming album instead.

After lunch they moved several beds into one room, turning the master bedroom into a big slumber party area. The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent getting video and photos of the house and its yard, trying to find the perfect angles for use during the actual performance recording.

Rayne gathered some logs for firewood after noticing a fire pit in the back with some carved stone benches surrounding it. Dinner consisted of an open flame barbecue using packaged meats they found in the fridge, and a few veggies and fruit rolled into foil packs.

"We've really gotta thank that agent lady," Grey said, reclining in his chair. "She really came through with the supplies! It's so good having a fully stocked kitchen from the start, I was worried we'd be having pancakes and instant ramen for days."

"I'll head to town tomorrow and grab more meat for the freezer in the cellar," Rayne said, chewing on a skewer of chicken. "It's got a little variety right now but I'd like to stock up so we don't have to make as many trips. You and Lils might be fine with rabbit food, but Crystal and I need that good good protein."

"We're natural carnivores," Crystal agreed.

"Is there anything else we need from the store?"

"Nah, I can't think of anything. There's like, four entire bags of toilet paper, and towels and wash cloths and soaps and detergent and even pads and stuff. Like, I know we paid for the service but the level of consideration is really impressive!"

Crystal stared into the flickering flames, watching the embers rise into the rapidly darkening sky only to flicker away among the stars. The strange feeling she'd had all day was building to a crescendo, swelling in her chest in anticipation of...

Something.

Rayne glanced over, nudging her sister in the arm. "Coco? You're out of it again."

Crystal nodded. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened again. Seeing her strange behavior, Lillian and Grey both fell silent.

Finally, Crystal heaved a sigh and poked at the burning logs with a long stick. "Remember when we first posted the video for our band? It was uploading and we were all watching the loading bar while holding our breaths? How it felt?"

"Don't get nostalgic on me old man," Grey muttered. Though his tone was teasing, there was an affectionate smile on his face.

Lillian nodded and smiled. "It was so exciting and terrifying at the same time. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe we'd be one of many bands that never got any traction. But maybe... Maybe we'd get lucky."

"It was kind of a relief too," Rayne added, gesturing with the skewer in her hand. "Like, we did it! We made our first song, and did our first video, and were gonna show it to the world. It felt really real right then. All our hard work."

"Yeah... And remember what I said?" When they all shook their heads, Crystal chuckled and poked the fire hard enough to send a flurried shower of sparks into the air. "I said it felt like a change was coming. For better or worse, something big was about to happen."

"Right, right! We'd either succeed in our dream or fail absolutely, with no in-between. That's what you said, yeah?" Grey sighed, patting his full stomach. "I remember. Man, that was heavy. I couldn't even sleep that night, you know?"

"Is it happening again?" Lillian asked, her voice even softer than usual. "That feeling?"

"Yeah. I've felt that way all day. I thought maybe it's cuz we never did anything as big as this, renting a house and doing a whole video shoot on location, that maybe I was worried about how ambitious our idea was, but..." Crystal bit her lip, poking the fire again. She made a point of avoiding their gazes, focusing on the burning embers and crackling logs. "I think if we stay here tonight, there's no going back."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, quietly, Rayne whispered: "Are we in danger?"

"It's not like that. It's just... A massive change, that feels... Overwhelming. This is bigger than the previous time."

"Bigger than chasing our dream?"

"Yeah."

Rayne reached over to grab Crystal's hand, while Grey hopped up and sprawled across Lillian's lap despite her protests. He just laughed and said, "What's that matter? No matter what happens tonight, tomorrow, or whatever! We'll get through it together like we always have. You and me, sweethearts. Us against the world!"

Crystal smiled and gently squeezed Rayne's hand. "Yeah. We'll be fine, no matter what."

Once dinner was finished, the fire fully smothered and the leftovers packed away for later, everyone did rock-paper-scissors to determine order of bathtub usage. One by one, they soaked away their worries, changed into the pajamas they brought, and crawled into one of the master bedroom's beds.

As midnight ticked over, a single shaft of light from the full moon filtered through the room's lacy curtains, illuminating their peaceful faces. The sleeping occupants remained blissfully unaware of the tendrils of fog creeping along the ground, emerging from the forest to wrap the entire house in a dome of mist.

Several hours later, as the first rays of dawn burst from the horizon, they were finally awoken by a piercing scream.

[justaramblingromantic]

Hello~~, hopping you had a wonderful holidays, I'd like ask RyoAli for the ship meme, if that's okay with you (and you're still accepting requests, that's it, hehe~), thank you so much in advance😊🤗

~ send me a ship and i’ll tell you who ~

Ello!! Happy holis to you, too! Sorry for the wait, and thanks for the ask! :)  

EiRin here

SouEri here

IshiNene here

RyoAli

curses like a sailor

He cusses with the spitting intensity and burning fervor of an unstoppable machine gun once he really gets going and he doesn’t care too much about what other people think about it, either, and neither does she. She smiles sweetly and easily beside him even when he’s deep in his ‘mad dog’ persona, even when the people around them flinch away with prejudice and cowering fear at his wild, rough-around-the-edges demeanor. They don’t know him like she does and it is amusing the way they label him even before trying to get to know what he is really like. But of course Ryou makes that hard too, with his fierce visage and unapproachable demeanor and that bored thousand yard stare (he is just sleepy as usual). She reaches up and pets him happily on the bicep in the aftermath of one of his episodes - he has emerged victorious, as always, ‘My Ryou is the cutest~’

does the chores voluntarily

Sometimes he looks at himself and wonders what the hell happened - he has become so domesticated it is horrifying. Once, she was nothing more than an irritating rich brat always getting in his way and causing no end of trouble for him, but these days, he has turned into a manservant, a butler, a bodyguard and a nanny rolled into one convenient package, loyally dedicated to the service of said aforementioned rich brat whose never-ending demands he can never quite seem to say ‘no’ to, and even when he does, she pesters him into doing whatever she wants, anyway. He trains his body even more aggressively as if to make up for that self-perceived weakness in character; but she is only all the more delighted with his strength and tag teams with her mother often to praise and tease him until he is flustered and harried and confused by their easy affection and familial warmth. Too late does he realize that they have caught and tamed him with their loving ways; now she bosses him around all the time and he comes to heel willingly like an faithful hound ready to fulfill her every desire. There is an innate, automatic compulsion for him to guard and take care of her that stumps him at first, but eventually he figures it all out -some bonds, once forged, are for life. 

wants to marry their bed

She has to be literally carried out of bed some mornings, all the while whining to have five more minutes of shuteye (it is never just five more minutes, that much he knows by now). She alternates between kicking her legs at him in childish pique and clinging to him for warmth, her grimacing face pushed into the crook of his neck and her eyes squeezed shut as she tries obstinately to resist all his attempts to wake her up, but he is unsympathetic and plants her upright like a turnip on the seat cover of the toilet bowl. Her toothbrush is pressed into her hand and a placidly delivered threat to put her in the shower stall next and switch on the cold water finally has her attention, and she pouts all the way through her morning ablutions. He does not even blink when her pajamas falls to the floor and she flounces out of the bathroom to find her change of clothes; he has seen her in skimpier swimsuits, and more importantly, must she always leave a mess everywhere she goes?  

gets awkward about romantic gestures

Perhaps it’s the fact that they grew up together, but the blithe exchange of casual, demonstrative gestures comes easily and naturally to them, long before they made things official. Even after that subtle change in relationship status, nothing seems too different or entirely new or something strange that either feel that they had to struggle to adjust to. Alice is even touchier than ever, gleefully groping Ryou in places she has always wanted to grope (she has unrestricted special VIP access now), and Ryou puts up with her amorous affection up till the point where he abruptly reaches his limit. His self-control snaps like a proverbial twig then and he drags her off to somewhere quiet so he can mark her back until her legs shake and her voice comes out of her in unsteady, uncontrollable gasps-

stays in the shower for what seems like hours

Ryou enjoys a long, hot shower after a hard, satisfying workout, the kind with temperatures high enough to peel skin.The shower facilities are equipped with state-of-the-art, high pressure, ionising spray jets that Alice has specifically custom ordered for him - supposedly, they have revitalizing and de-stressing effects and can also help to improve blood circulation, particularly effective for soothing sore muscles.They also have a private sauna which they use often, a standard practice derived from their years living in Scandinavia. It is one of the things that Ryou appreciates when it comes to Japan; how the bathing traditions here in this land of the East are so similar to those back home, in the far Nordic North. The Japanese don’t practice winter ice swimming with as much zeal, though, but Alice and Leonora are always in for a treat every end of the year, when Ryou and Soe gamely don snug swim trunks after a nice, long session in the sauna and brave the freezing winter conditions for a few invigorating laps in the freshwater mountain lake that borders the Nakiri winter lodge. 

would adopt a million cats if given the chance

She comes home with a box of squirming kittens one day, fat tears rolling down her puffy face and her reddened nose dribbling like a leaky faucet in reaction to the mewling felines in her arms. He cannot tell if her sorry appearance is due to being moved by the little strays’ sad, abandoned predicament or more due to the fact that the tiny mewling fluffballs are making her body go haywire in allergic reaction - probably a fair mix of both. ‘Ryou!’ she warbles his name with dramatic woe even as he is already rising from his seat and padding towards her. ‘Help; they were crying on the roadside and I couldn’t just leave th- achoo!!’

fixes stuff around the house / apartment

Alice is forbidden from fixing anything in the house, because more often than not, anything she attempts to save eventually ends up damaged beyond repair. Not that Ryou is exactly some miracle fix-it-all/DIY-er himself either; he does well enough when it comes to simple home repairs and improvements and is very knowledgeable with all the workings of his kitchen equipment, and most importantly, at least he hasn’t accidentally almost burned down the house…unlike a certain somebody whose name he shall refrain from mentioning. 

watches too many Disney movies

‘We’re like Beauty and the Beast,’ she tells him with a grin, and he just eyes her with his usual sleepy apathy, not even surprised by her random whimsy. ‘Do you know why? Because Beauty always saves Beast in the end!’ 

gets drunk off of champagne

She is the most ridiculous drunk person ever - one moment, she’s trying to pick a fight with a street post and the next she has somehow teleported across the road one block down, marching into the conbini for a random shopping binge. She runs off again, cackling into the night, while sticking him with the bill for her purchases and his face is deadpan as ever (his forehead is starting to twitch, though) as the convenience store worker blanches at his blandly murderous visage and nervously rings up the haphazard pile of candy, small mountain of junk food, as well as what looks like the conbini’s entire display of condoms even as the three other customers in queue behind him try not to gawk at the impressive hoard of prophylactics in flustered embarrassment. He catches up to her before she can get into any more trouble, herds her loudly singing self around several exposed manholes before she can dance and twirl right into them, scares off three different groups of hoodlums trying to pick her up (by then that look of pure homicide has been permanently etched onto his face, very convenient that) and manages to drag her troublesome behind home before she can pull another Houdini on him again. She throws herself into his arms when they’re in the backseat of the cab, and he is exasperated and pissed after an entire night of running after his ojou and putting up with her shenanigans; anyone would have taken one look at that dark scowl on his face, promptly do an about turn and run for the hills, but of course she climbs onto his lap instead and demands affection. ‘My Ryou is the best~!’ she brags to him looking like someone’s ridiculously proud grandma, and just like that, he feels his aggravation subside a little at her obvious recognition of his worth and ability. That special feeling is quick to disappear, however, when she reaches up to ruffle his hair and coos, ‘Who’s a good boy? My Ryou’s the goodest boy-” 

cries when the ASPCA commercials come on

She quivers and her eyes fill up like she’s going through an allergic episode again, and he fixes half his gaze on her in case she starts to swell up like previously. She does not puff up this time, but she’s…leaky, presumably a side effect of the short video they had been watching. He suffers through her sniffs, snorts and snuffles in silence - and he is very silent and very still, because she seems to have momentarily forgotten about his presence and he wants to keep it that way- but alas his good fortune does not last long. She turns to him with that piteous expression that reminds him very much of Leonora-san when she’s pouting with all her might at Soe-san, and Ryou feels something like doom encroach him at the familiar scenario. His stoic apathy falters before her mien of misery, and he wants to sigh in a very put upon manner. He opens his arms to her instead, and she shuffles into his side. ‘Ryou?’ ‘Yes, milady?’ ‘Let’s adopt a million cats.’ ‘…No.’ 

[obscuraxrp]

The smoke settles to reveal PARK JIMIN, a 22 year old were-dhole of Sunseong. He is a police officer who appears to be adept in enhanced senses, enhanced condition and canine manipulation --- but like most things in Sunseong, there must be more to him than meets the eye.

FACECLAIM: Park Jimin, bts

APPEARANCE:

Jimin’s dhole-form is distinctly canine but his coloring is most similar to the red fox. His coat is plush; a vibrant copper from his face to the base of his tail and on the outer parts of his legs. From his jaw to his belly, inside his legs and his paws are snowy white. His ears are large, rounded, and soft, with feathery tufts of white fur inside. His nose, whiskers, toe pads, and long fluffy tail are black.

BIOGRAPHY:

It’s not easy to fully understand ‘who’ you are when you don’t know from ‘where’ you came. This was something Jimin found especially painful as he grew up in the Busan orphanage where he was abandoned. He has never managed to remember any details about his parents and without any way to track them down, a void began to grow inside him. As a few years came and passed slowly in the orphanage, Jimin couldn’t help wondering why his parents didn’t want him and why none of the other parents who visited wanted him either. What was wrong with him that others could see but he couldn’t?

Eventually, the day did come when he found a home, but it was not with a happy young couple like he’d expected. An older man had been hanging around near the orphanage grounds for a few days prior to him beckoning to Jimin when he caught the young boy’s eye. Far too trusting, despite multiple lessons on the danger of strangers, Jimin raced over to see what he wanted. The man told him that he was different from the other children; he was special. It was everything Jimin had ever wanted to hear. The old man didn’t seem to mean him harm although he did smell strange, but he offered to come back that night and take him away if he could manage to sneak out without getting caught. And Jimin did just that.

Thus started a strange but beneficial journey between the two males. The old man was a recluse who lived completely off the radar of modern society. The next few years of his life were spent living in wild forests with the strange old man who claimed he could actually turn into a leopard when he felt like it. Jimin believed him wholeheartedly, despite the lack of visual proof and soaked up every little bit of knowledge the seasoned survivalist bestowed upon him. As he came closer to puberty, Jimin began to resent their lonely lifestyle and doubt the stories of magic and strange creatures he’d been told up to that point. He started to think maybe he should run away and try to find a city to live in with ‘normal’ people. This agitated, unrested feeling continued to grow until the full moon when Jimin’s reality was turned completely upside down.

The wise old man had managed to teach Jimin everything he would need to know about living part of his life as an animal without actually mentioning the part about him being one. Sensing that it would only cause fear and distrust in the boy, he waited patiently until the change inevitably happened naturally. The realization of what he truly was could’ve been quite scarring for Jimin, but more than anything, he began to realize not only 'who’ he was, but 'what’ he was. The animal part of him is a dhole, a type of wild dog that’s nearly extinct in Korea. Somehow instead of being depressed by this information, it gave him a sense of hope that his parents and other relatives were out there somewhere but living their lives as humans, which was an undoubtedly safer option.

Life became much easier after that realization. Since then, Jimin has worked tirelessly to rejoin society and catch up on what he’s missed. Now, nearly ten years later, he is living a life that he’s proud of. And has a reputation he’s proud of too. He has lots of friends; which he likes to think of as his own honorary pack and finds enormous fulfillment from his work on the Sunseong Police Force.

CHARACTERIZATION:

Above all else, Jimin is kind. He has always yearned for a family, meaningful friendships, and bonds strong enough to form a pack someday. He is diplomatic and dutiful; a dependable young man with strong moral fiber and a code of honor that he is willing to defend until his last breath. He’s protective of those he has befriended and anyone he feels could benefit from his care. It’s clear by looking that he is quite athletic and capable but it’s not in his nature to be overtly aggressive or confrontational. He is soft spoken and friendly; easily approachable. Perhaps too empathetic; he habitually puts the feelings, desires, and well-being of others before his own. He tends to worry about what people think of him and second guess his acceptance in social circles as he does suffer from abandonment issues.

Positive Traits - Nurturing, determined, patient, forgiving, honest, altruistic Negative Traits - Stubborn, idealistic, naive, workaholic

SPECIALTIES:

Shapeshifting (Innate) Enhanced senses (See below) Enhanced condition (See below) Animal communication (See below)

Enhanced Senses - Rank I (20 pts.)

Jimin’s five senses are enhanced due to his canid DNA, but he’s also spent extensive work sharpening and honing these skills. His senses are amplified from strongest to weakest as: smell, hearing, taste, touch and finally, sight. The time he’s spent living in the wilderness has led to the following enhancements through his fine-tuned senses.

Enhanced Tracking - Using his senses, Jimin can track targets via various means, ranging from sound/visuals to scent to footprints. In some cases he can even reconstruct what happened in a certain location by examining the area they are searching.

The longer it has been since the target passed the area or the more the area has been disturbed, the smaller his chances of success become.

Enhanced Intuition - Jimin can sense near to immediate danger to his well-being and attempt to evade it. Intuition usually involves another person in suspicion, but may include surroundings such as a building or oncoming car accident. Jimin can sense ill-will or malice, usually by scent but also as a gut instinct feeling. + to Body Language Analysis

He cannot sense distant dangers. Sensing an attack or malice does not mean he can defend himself from it. Can be hard to decipher the specific threat beyond the feeling. He would probably doubt the feeling if it is coming from a person that he previously trusted, i.e. a close friend.

Lie Detection - Jimin is able to sense/identify when a person is lying to him. If the target is close enough to him that they are speaking face to face, he can hear their heartbeat quicken, for example.

This is not necessarily applicable to people who lie easily and without guilt.

Enhanced Athleticism - Rank I (20 pts.)

Jimin’s physical condition is enhanced due to his canid DNA, but he’s also spent extensive effort training his body so that it reacts quickly, precisely and can endure long bouts of physical activity and strain.

Enhanced Dexterity - Jimin can control his movements and muscles expertly without fumbling. He can slip through narrow spaces, keep balance at high altitudes, and manage to usually land on his feet if uprooted or pushed. He’s able to regain balance quickly and can perform tasks at inconvenient angles or on unstable surfaces. This also contributes to exceptional aim.

Accuracy is diminished when Jimin is exhausted or distracted by outside means.

Enhanced Leap - Dholes are exceptional jumpers and so is Jimin. He can jump farther than average both in human and dhole-form; vertically and horizontally.

Not to the extent of superhuman distance. Requires a solid surface to land on. Circumstances could affect his aim or cause him to miscalculate distances.

Enhanced Reflexes - Jimin has enhanced reaction speed, allowing him to dodge, block and maneuver around complex attacks, catch falling objects, block detriments react almost instantaneously to events. + to Enhanced Intuition

Objects moving at tremendously quick speeds or with too much force may be too difficult to dodge.

Body Language Analysis - Jimin can intuitively read others’ body language and anticipate their actions. He can intuitively anticipate their actions and respond accordingly, often allowing him to predict opponent’s attacks. + to Enhanced Intuition

May not work on targets with enhanced speed, strength, or that use misleading or erratic movements.

Canine Manipulation - Rank II (40 pts.)

Jimin is able to influence and manipulate canines such as dogs, wolves, coyotes, foxes, dholes, dingoes, etc. The skill allows him to communicate telepathically, sense emotions and empathize, request assistance, or even form a spiritual bond with the animal he is focusing on.

Not applicable to shifted animals. Range is limited to hearing distance. Canines with sentience may be hard or impossible to control.

Mind Link (Canine) - The ability to develop a link between minds with other living canines, sharing thoughts, memories, emotions or feelings.

Limited to a maximum of five animals. May be irreversible.

Animal Scrying - Jimin can access a linked canine’s senses. He can experience what they taste, feel, smell, see and/or hear while he is channeling through their link.

Only applicable with an animal that is bonded or linked with Jimin. Maintaining the scrying takes complete mental focus and leaves Jimin completely vulnerable to what is happening where he is.

[warlordess]

I’m seriously concerned for Keith. He may have some serious issues, and he should get all the help he needs. Yeah, I’m still angry he left the team (HE’S BEEN THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR 30+ YEARS HOW COULD YOU DO THIS), but staying w/the BOM May have made those issues worse, given how he tried to commit suicide. He needs to get back to the team ASAP. Agreed?

Mmm, I wouldn’t necessarily disagree but this did bring up some stuff that I think the fandom is taking too seriously/blaming one party entirely for when that shouldn’t be the case.

We already know that Keith has issues, it’s been that way since the beginning and each season has slowly revealed to us more and more about them. Unfortunately, I’ve seen four different groups to blame that shouldn’t each exclusively be to blame because it’s all more complicated than that.

I’ve seen the faction of the fandom that wants to blame BoM due to them enforcing in Keith ideals of self-sacrifice for the sake of their cause.

I’ve seen the faction blaming clone!Shiro for talking to Keith about things/in ways that the real!Shiro wouldn’t ever, pushing him to make choices he might ordinarily give more pause and consideration to.

I’ve seen the faction that blames real!Shiro for putting so much pressure on Keith as far as becoming the new leader of Voltron in his place.

I’ve seen the faction that blames the rest of Team Voltron for never considering Keith’s good qualities during his short term as new leader, blames them for never giving Keith positive reinforcement and only critiquing him.

There are also the mixed factions that want to place blame on two out of four of these parties or three out of four or whatever. And I will be the first to confess that I’m not 100% perceptive to all the little fandom theories about clone!Shiro and BoM and Galra!Keith and etc, etc, this, that, and the other. I wanna get that out of the way first before I go into detail about the problem with these factions.

Let’s first be open-minded enough to understand that Keith had issues before Team Voltron, a lot of which is revealed in his vlog. These issues, like most childhood traumas, carry over into his adulthood since he decided to isolate himself throughout his adolescence. Hell, he ran away from the Garrison just like he ran away from Voltron. (That ‘lil dipshit.) He doesn’t take pressure well despite his many talents and doesn’t know how to socialize with people who depend on him. This is probably why he abandoned training/got kicked out from the Garrison and this is easily why he has issues connecting with the other paladins of Voltron. If there’s any part of the “lone wolf” origin that is accurate, these two overwhelming personality traits would be it.

… But for the people who want to place Keith’s suicide attempt/sacrifice solely on BoM, you’re wrong. You’re very, very wrong. There was someone instilling self-sacrificial notions in him long before BoM did and that was Shiro. I mean, Shiro was saying from at least as early as the first episode of season two that he placed faith in Keith to become the new leader of the team should certain circumstances occur. And this wasn’t necessarily wrong. I mean, these people are fighting an inter-galaxy-wide war. People are gonna die just like they’ve been dying for the cause for centuries. But, along with saying that, Shiro also instilled in Keith another subliminal message. The main role of Voltron’s leader is to make the tough calls, make the sacrifice first. Shiro never discusses the possibility of another team member dying and their role having to be filled. He knows that if anyone has to go, it’s gonna be him. And he accepts that because they’re at war, and he believes that Keith has the power to make that sacrifice and those tough calls when they’re needed too, which - to him - is the leader’s role.

But even beyond Shiro, Keith has been exposed to others who would make this ultimate sacrifice. I mean, it took Lance all of - what? - three episodes to get himself blown up trying to save a single comrade. Keith, loner that he is, ran into a sacrificial lamb of an Altean princess when he was trying to run away from the team because they both thought they were the cause for the Galra empire’s continued ability to locate them instantaneously. And do we really think that any of the paladins or Allura would survive for very long without the rest of the team to back them up when shit hits the fan and they’re alone in space? The whole point of running away was to preserve the rest of Team Voltron so that the mission could go on no matter the personal sacrifice. And Keith isn’t the only one to try and make this sacrifice. Interesting how he’s the only one the fandom is fighting so hard to protect/save though.

For those who blame clone!Shiro or real!Shiro, like I said above on multiple counts, I won’t pretend to know all of the theories or be perceptive to all of the clues in the canon that the fandom uses to place blame on either of these characters. In truth (and I’ve talked to @cultofpokeshipping about this, though he refuses to respond for whatever reason; lmao), I don’t even necessarily agree with what the fans are saying on how clone!Shiro is so obviously different than real!Shiro. I personally haven’t seen anything in his relationship with Keith that is much different from what it was before real!Shiro went missing. And as I said to the aforementioned person, there is such a thing as a clone with unknown parameters/protocol. Clone!Shiro - if that’s who we’re dealing with - could earnestly believe that he’s real!Shiro. I mean, he’s got the memories, he’s got the willpower, got the heart, got the skills, got the connection to the Black Lion. And yet, maybe, underneath his layers of encryption and coding, there is an unknown goal he’s trying to meet. I don’t blame him for that. He’s a creation, not inherently evil, and he may think he’s the real deal. This widespread hatred for a character that might not necessarily deserve it is sort of grating. Also, like I said above (and similarly to what Mike added to a post you reblogged), real!Shiro placing pressure on Keith more-so than the other paladins is necessary in this case. They’re the only thing in existence that can change the tide of this multi-millennia war so, if one of them goes (and remember, Shiro placed that burden on himself first), there needs to be knowledge and power and the fortitude to continue the mission.

As for those who want to blame the rest of the team, I go back to Keith’s vlog. He’s had issues since long before becoming a part of Team Voltron. He’s had issues long before being exposed to all these comrades. But the team doesn’t know about these issues. So if they’re not constantly playing softball with him when he makes a stupid decision, then hey, what more do they know to do? He’s supposed to be the leader but he runs off without them, distances himself from them, refuses to acknowledge that a team is meant to make group decisions based on the well-being and prolonged life of every member. And need I remind you yet again that these fucking kids are at war? They don’t have time to psycho-analyze a teammate that doesn’t want to be psycho-analyzed. They don’t have the perception to understand immediately that there might be some deeper issues.

On top of that, it wasn’t like the team constantly berated him from the very beginning either! Once Black chose Keith as the new leader, they tried to empathize (despite pressing matters of that war I keep mentioning), even enough for his so-called bitter rival to be chosen (and accept) the responsibility of convincing him to do what needed doing. When he tried to start a relationship with Hunk, Hunk did his best to reach back out too despite the awkwardness. They talked about some personal things, Keith cracked a joke, and Hunk acknowledged it and even reciprocated the feeling. And, when Lance approached Keith about his role on the team and his fears that he couldn’t be of any help, Keith reassured him and Lance was openly grateful for it. When Keith made stupid decision after stupid decision in the heat of battle, Lance did his best to bring him back from the brink of what looked like a meltdown. No time to play softball there, for sure, but Lance did what he could and it worked eventually. If Keith made any positive progress as the new team leader, it was because his team called him out on his antics when they got out of hand and only after they approached him cautiously and were met with resistance first. Otherwise, he overloaded on Shiro’s advice that the leader must make all the sacrifices first, even at the expense of their own life (not the message that Shiro intended but it’s easy to see how Keith would choose to go there). I’m surprised there’s a whole corner of the fandom that refuses to see that.

Real quick, a comment on your line about how Keith’s been the main character for 30+ years and etc. No offense, but I completely disagree with this. Not with him being the main character for so long but definitely with your obvious comparison to how this series is choosing to flesh out the other characters of the team (and of the entire series) and the path this interpretation of Keith is walking. This version of Keith is half-Galra, so he’s bonded with the BoM in a way that a non-Galran Keith wouldn’t. This version of Pidge is a girl masquerading as a boy in search of her missing brother and dad - a search that predated the current canon and has spanned multiple seasons. This version of Allura not only serves a role as replacement paladin when one of their own is KIA, she’s also the castle’s teleportation power source, a wealth of knowledge of different races/species/alien etiquette, she has innate magical skills lost to her people’s history that has turned many a battle around in their favor. This version of Shiro is the leader, is mature and adult, is the source for reason and teamwork and hard choices when the chips are down. This version of Lance, while egoistic similar to his past incarnation, suffers from severe confidence issues that he’s revisited time and time again, considers himself to be the weakest link of the team.

To say that Keith is the main character here when the series has done so much to flesh out all these other characters and give them equal roles is downright negligent of any fan.

This version of Voltron is different from its predecessors. To compare it to those before it without any consideration of the differences and positive impacts of those differences is not something I can agree with.

But yes, of course I’d like Keith to grow as a character and rejoin Team Voltron, we can at least agree to that.

[adventk-blog]

                                             — ARE YOU WHO YOU WANT TO BE, 

       introducing JUNG SOOJUNG, a MUTANT, under the moniker of KRYSTAL — and currently a believer of NEUTRALITY. age ( twenty-three ) and gifted with the abilty of SUPERNATURAL COMBAT, they are currently working as a GUN RANGE INSTRUCTOR.

WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN STORIES,

— youth, her father was in career military at west point, new york. her father was brilliant, in the sort of way that propelled his career. her father was haunted by demons and the battles they brought with them, opened the door and ushered them in to join their small family. her father was rigid with paranoia that never left him. and her father was the reason that her parents’ marriage was circling the drain by the time she was six. it was an interesting childhood, but it was normalized. krystal grew up learning what to do in the worst case scenario, dinner conversation often merged into quizzes on survival, on fighting.

when she wanted to take dance classes with her best friend in elementary school, that idea was replaced with taekwondo. when she got older enough, father-daughter bonding time consisted of him taking her to the gun range and learning how to shoot. it wasn’t a case of her father wishing for a son out of their only child. instead, there was fear behind those decisions, a fear krystal could never really figure out. but she always knew he loved her, that he was attempting to give her the tools to keep her safe. it was just over inflated, perhaps propped up by experiences of his past that he couldn’t shake off.

— teens, rebelling to krystal was dichotomous in nature. impulses and hormones mixed together to create an ambiguous way of lashing out. at thirteen, krystal put her foot down and argued until she was red in the face so that she could sign up for gymnastics. her mother sided with her, and the subsequent argument, backlash was so much larger than it should have been. krystal was brought up with rules and plans, but there wasn’t cruelty. instead, there were formulas to follow, and goalposts to reach that were set by her father and consistently moved higher. so she sparred, and learned how to handle weapons, knew what to eat if she ( for whatever reason ) got stranded in the woods. a detailed plan, though what was looming in the horizon was unknown to krystal, and unknown to her mother.

his paranoia only seemed to grow worse over the years, and krystal’s reaction to more rules falling down on her head at fifteen was to sneak out and attempt to have a life of her own in secret. slinking through the neighborhood, collecting friends, and pushing each other around in shopping carts in an abandoned parking lot. sips of stolen drinks and parties in basements while whoever’s parents were away for the weekend. krystal managed to balance the duality of her life well enough. besides, she’d already been taught how to pass a lie detector test. assuming a blank-faced expression and pretending all she cared about was competitions and tournament for her father’s chosen hobbies was easy enough. living with him was harder.

loud rants and ramblings turned into regularities, overreactions provoked from things that seemed to only make sense to him. strict turned into controlling, and their home adopted a tense atmosphere that seemed strangling on the best of days. it created tension, more than there already was. the last straw for her parents’ failing marriage seemed to be when her father stepped down from his position with the intention of moving them away to an isolated location in the woods with the idea of living off the grid.

krystal was seventeen when her mother decided that simply wasn’t an option for her, and she took krystal with her to move to korea and live with relatives while she dealt with divorce proceeding from across the ocean. where safety was almost guaranteed.

back in america, she was on the verge of being an outcast, though it was tempered with complaints and her willingness to sneak out of the house late at night, to slip out of the confines placed on her. in korea, this trend continued due to her very recent move, an upended life into a new culture where she was perceived as slightly different. pronunciation that was accented, even if she did grow up bilingual. but she tried to take it in stride. it became a little harder once her mutation started to appear, bubbling and simmering underneath her skin like a bomb waiting to go off.

she thinks that maybe she inherited her unnaturalness from her father, maybe there was something trapped in his mind fighting to come out. maybe he never got the chance to solve the puzzle and it overwhelmed him.

it took a little bit of time for krystal to piece together that she was a mutant. an other. fighting at the dojang she joined became easier, to the point where she knew she count best opponents she shouldn’t have been able to. perform feats that she shouldn’t be physically capable of. krystal at least had enough sense not to let these newfound peculiarities show when she was around others, but she experimented when she found herself alone. it took a little longer before krystal recognized that she could branch away from taekwondo if she so desired. that the art of other fighting styles seemed to be wound through her musculature, imprinted into her brain. a few more years and she figured out this apparent ability stretched out to include weapons as well.

a knife in her hand now felt like opportunities. maybe that was what her father had always been trying to impart on her.

— present, upon graduation from high school, krystal seriously entertained the idea of moving back to america for university. she was close to doing so, but she fell to her mother’s appeal and opted to stay nearby in incheon instead. she didn’t go to a particularly grand or expensive university, enough to where the settlement from the divorce was able to cover a large chunk of the tuition and krystal only had a small pile of debt to her name. which was for the best considering she couldn’t manage to land a decent job after graduating, even with the bland business degree she’d gone for.

criminal justice was considered briefly, but her mother was adamant on distancing them both from her father’s legacy and so she applied around until she found a job at a shooting range. her father managed to wind her up in enough of his fear that it turned into a habit and krystal had opted into getting her gun license, especially after the knowledge of her powers had fully dawned on her. that and experience meant she was able to work her way up from an employee to an instructor. it doesn’t cut the biggest paycheck, and krystal lives in a cramped officetel, but she makes due.

there are worse fates for mutants, of this she is aware. but she hasn’t yet had a chance to completely figure out the politics behind it all, and she isn’t really forced to at the moment either. her powers are subtle enough to hide, even if she’s not adverse to wield them if she deems it necessary. the concept of segregation to her appears more complicated than most make it out to be, but in a world where humanity likens her kind to a threat and forces her to lock away pieces of herself that she’s still figuring out…well, she can’t condemn those who are fighting for it.

THERE IS FLESH AND BLOOD BEHIND THESE TALES,

the way that krystal was brought up reflects the person that she grew into. she was raised to have a rough exterior, to be wary, to expect the worst. pessimism is a friend to her at this point, something she’s relied on over the years. she’s learned that to be too trusting is to be naive, and so she’s not eager to give it out without a reason for her to do so. she’s as observant as she is cynical, ingrained over years of being trained to expect something she was persuaded into believing was coming.

it’s all converged in a gruff exterior. cheshire grins and skin overlaid in metaphoric nails. there wasn’t much for krystal to be growing up besides tough, and so that was what she became. unrelenting and blunt, put her on a warpath and she’ll do nearly anything to meet her goals. she’s resourceful, and there’s an edge of charisma that feels more sharp than welcoming. it props up words that she doesn’t always think through, when she lets her anger get the best of her.

she doesn’t see the world in black and white, but she tries to live her life decisively, even if she doesn’t know if what she’s doing is right. it helps that she lives independently, is willing to take the world on her own shoulders and buckle underneath the weight of it if it means she doesn’t need to ask help from the people around her. she’d sooner walk through fire than allow someone to watch her break, and she’d sooner break herself than let someone else do it to her.

AND EVEN MONSTERS CAN LEARN TO WEEP.

supernatural combat —

the manual,

from the outside looking in, krystal’s mutation seems subtle. but underneath skin and interwoven between muscle and bone is power that pushes her to unnatural heights.there’s more than mastery in her form, there’s an innate ability and functionality that oversteps the scope of possibility. to her, combat seems pre-programmed. it doesn’t take much to adopt to a new fighting style, to figure out the intricacies smoothed out for most in years and years of practice.

a battlefield becomes a chessboard, and there’s an unflinching ability that’s driven into her, that’s able to adapt and morph with whatever unknown or unorthodox methodology is placed at her feet like a bomb waiting to go off. everything is packaged up pretty in a box, with a brutal bow adorning the mess that is krystal. she knows what it takes to survive, and she knows how to take it a step past that, and then another. her power isn’t particularly flashy. there isn’t an array of sparks or scales that climb down her spine. but in its subtlety there is power. mutations can be awe inspiring and vicious, but a bullet can deliver someone to a grave just as well as magic can.

the technicalities,

supernatural combat revolves around one central idea, namely, combat. the feats that can be attained under this mutation are not within the realms of human ability, and the fighting skills of said individual aren’t naturally possible and therefore cannot be replicated unless by a mutant of similar skillset or other extenuating circumstances. the combat skills housed under the framework of this mutation encompass both offensive and defensive, and extend to components such as the individual’s speed, strength, precision, reflexes, technique, analysis, and all other aspects of practical fighting. it should be noted that these variables are elevated in conjunction with combat only, in an effort to mutate the individual into mastery of said area. this does not extend into scopes such as: super strength, super speed, advanced analytical prowess, and so forth. rather, these are akin to reflexes that are triggered when the individual is placed into a combat-like setting.

APPLICATIONS :

subsection a: attack prediction,

in many romanticized renditions of fighting, the act is likened to a dance. both partners are in tune and play a part in its creation. however, an individual is capable of prediction within the confines of combat due to ( 1 ) analytical capabilities in use being able to determine what the next logical step is in conjunction with ( 2 ) an innate knowledge of fighting. armed with these two variables, the individual is able to make reflexive judgement calls on what an opponent’s next move is e.g. determining that weight shift and specific muscle tension are indicative to the type of attack and how it may occur. these conclusions are not predictive or telepathic in nature. rather, they are deductive and lead to further instinctive actions of the individual.

subsection b: weapons proficiency,

an extended arm of combat is the weapons that are used in it. the individual has a natural affinity towards weapons, and they are quick to learn and adapt with these tools. proficiency is contiguous here to general mastery. said individual has a very small learning curve before they are acclimated to weapon use, and are able to wield them in combat where such weapons and potential use are able. a contingency in weapons use is that the individual must have access to any and all weaponry. the individual is not able to conjure or craft, they simply possess the ability to wield them knowledgeably.

LIMITATIONS :

clause 1: invincibility,

while the individual may be perceived by those who are untrained as invincible, they are not. enhanced defensive measures in the form of combat-related skills ( e.g. blocking, dodging ) do not equate to defensive measures in the form of indestructibility. said user can receive damage, and sustained damage can lead to mortal-leaning consequences such as, but not limited to: injury, loss of consciousness, or death. furthermore, supernatural combat is in no way preventative of pain. faced with too much pain, and the individual way be forced to disengage from combat in an instinctual reaction.

clause 2: intent,

supernatural combat is limited only to combat, and additional components of what complete the definition cannot be dismantled and used in others contexts. for instance, speed used inside the realm of a fight to outmaneuver an opponent cannot be retranslated to encompass other uses of speed in daily life. the individual cannot make use of, say, heightened travel time. rather, when intent is sensed (via adrenaline in the context of a fight), the mutation triggers use of multiple facets that connect and form what is known as combat.

clause 3: human limitations,

the human body is capable of withstanding only so much before it reaches a breaking point. the individual is not exempt from such a breaking point. injuries sustained will remain, and can lead to death in extreme circumstances. thus, the onus is on the individual to use other such skills to avoid this if and when possible. however, avoidance is only a strategy and probability would state that injury is bound to happen. under these conditions, the individual’s body would need medical attention and a normal allotment of time to heal. in addition to the above conditions, if the individual is injured, this may further hinder their abilities in combat and may lead to weaker, less focused fighting technique. a scenario being: if the individual has a broken wrist, they would not be able to use that hand in combat due to lack of control and additional pain, however they could certainly attempt to grit through it under the assumption that their peak capabilities are not being met.

clause 4: preparedness,

the individual must be able to have access to certain tools if such a power require them under subsection b ( weapons proficiency ). this power is dependent on using weapons, but the individual cannot draw them from a faraway location and/or summon them if they get knocked away. since said power is balanced on the skill and knowledge to use such weapons, it is the individual’s own responsibility to come armed in a situation where combat is present. if the individual fails to do this, subsection b is rendered useless.

clause 5: capability,

being able to predict when an attack is coming does not necessarily equate to the individual being able to deflect or deal with it. similarly, if there is some force that overshadows the capabilities of what the individual is equipped with they may be overpowered or put in a disadvantageous situation. for instance, in a scenario where an opponent’s strength is tenfold that of the individual’s, then predicting and blocking them would be rendered useless and the individual could be knocked aside. the burden of how the combat should be further played out to the individual’s advantage ( if at all possible ) would then rest solely on their shoulders.

THREAT LEVEL TWO.                            03+ BRWN, 05+ RSLNC, 02+ INTLCT, 02+ WLLPWR, 08+ FGHTNG, 04+ SPD

[reesesxxpieces-blog]

Chapter Seventeen : Can we get out of here?

Spencer Sleep was something that was becoming harder and harder for Spence as the days grew closer to her due date.  Finding a comfortable position was next to impossible, leaving her basically catching cat naps here and there to get her through.  Already on maternity leave, there was no alarm clock set, though she wouldn’t much need one anyways.  On this night, the bed wasn’t working for her, so she had gone to lay on the sofa instead, hoping not to keep him awake like she had been doing the last few nights.  The pregnancy was weighing on her and surely on him as well.  Her emotions were in a fit, highs and lows like nothing she had ever experienced in her life, yet was just as helpless in them as anyone else that had to deal with them; namely John.  Her hand against her stomach, now the only thing she saw when she looked down, gently passing her hand over the place his foot protruded against her stomach, a little game of feet war though she used her palm in the battle that one day would be exchanged for a little boy on the floor on his back, her the same, feet pressed to one another to fight for power.  

John While he was hardly pregnant, the man himself was not receiving as much sleep as can be expected. His mind was running a million miles a minute. Nervous, yes. Not sure how this was all going to work, yes. But excited? Excited was putting it lightly. Though he’d hate to draw comparisons between this and River, it was a completely different experience. He didn’t feel as if they were sitting on a time bomb. Like it was all going to go away once the child was born. Noticing he was in bed by himself and fairly thirsty, the man was pulling himself from the bed and bedroom. Groggily, admittedly. Running into the corner dresser, earning a few choice words as he slipped out of the bedroom into that main living area that would give way to the door of the hall that would get him to the kitchen though the walk at this period of night felt rather daunting.

Spencer Hearing John before she’d see him, there was a part of her thrilled he was awake, another that would question if she had somehow been the cause of it.  She didn’t sleep well without him, yet presently she couldn’t sleep well with him either.  She just couldn’t sleep.  As he came through the doorway, clearly on a mission to the kitchen, she decided he mustn’t have noticed she was awake there on the sofa.  A rare opportunity, but she’d steal it just the same.  Nearly opening her mouth, she decided it might scare him to death if she did and a dead husband so close to their due date was simply not the best idea.  Instead, she’d wait in the darkness of the room, pressing her hand to the baby’s foot within her, watching the figure move through to the doorway that would lead to the kitchen.  Just as his hand found the door, she lost the ability to not say something to the man, after stealing as much as she had.  “John,” she whispered, her voice quiet and raspier than normal as she had yet to use her voice that day, given it was early, but.  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”  She asked, reaching behind her to flip on the lamp on the end table.

John Hearing the whisper in the darkness, he was glancing back by the time she flickered on the light. One eye shutting in favor of protecting his eyesight as that light seemed brutal. Glancing back towards the woman and from the light, loaded question. “Nah.” he returned, she hadn’t woken him. He wasn’t sure what did but not having her in bed with him was an unsettling feeling. Yet, he wasn’t about to tell her that knowing she would inconvenience herself. Fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m gonna’ grab water. You want something while I’m up?”

Spencer A tired yawn passed her lips as she heard his question, shaking her head no in response at first before the no would actually pass her lips a moment later.  “No, I’m good,” she promised, offering him an honest smile as she lifted herself to a seated position on the sofa before rising to her feet.  “Actually, there is something I need,” she added almost a moment too late, crossing the space to approach him, a mischievous look written all over her face as her hand found his, lifting to her toes to press a kiss to his lips.  Brief, yet intentionally so knowing the man had stated his desire for water already.  “Yeah, I’m good.”  Flashing him a full smile, she took a step back from him, bringing their joint hands there to where she had been playing with the baby over the last twenty minutes.  “Check this guy out though,” she urged, finding his pushes against her to grow stronger and stronger each night, further proof as to why she couldn’t sleep.  

John Still half awake as she approached him for what she wanted. Pressing his lips gently back to hers as e gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leaning into steal another kiss while she was there and waiting for it. Catching her smile as she pulled back. Hearing her speak about the baby as he glanced down, the guidance of his hand over the source of activity. “Rhysies Pieces is on the move.” he remarked honestly, already prone to speaking to him against her stomach and it seemed tonight would be no exception as he attempted to lure the movement to the surface. Wanting to be able to make out the outline of that little foot. Something that still stunned him. Not only the fact that he could feel her but the fact that he was on his way in the first place.

Spencer To go from a time when neither of them could quite come to terms with the idea there was a baby within her to now, where there was no denying the little one who made his presence known constantly, was miraculous to watch from Spencer’s perspective.  Something she hadn’t known how to swallow when it was presented to them was now something she couldn’t wait for, but she always knew she had it in her.  John, on the other hand, was taking to this far more than she would have ever expected.  As he referred to the little one with the nickname given to Spence by Jade, she had to smile, abandoning John’s hand there at her stomach as it was clearly his turn for the moment.  “Go get your water and maybe a bag of m&m’s and I’ll meet you back in the bedroom?”  She wasn’t going to be sleeping.  Rhys clearly wasn’t sleeping.  And now that John wasn’t either, she’d rejoin him in bed until a time he might fall back asleep, when she’d more than likely slip off again out of her fear of waking him.

John Nodding as she slipped in her request as the candy certainly wasn’t for him, he slipped out of the room and down the hall. He had made it a point to get a mini-fridge at somepoint yet it seemed almost like surrendering by doing this. Needing to be uncomfortable to be reminded of what he needed to do. Needing to stay hungry. Little did Spence realize that the answer to this issue was closer than expected. Grabbing a water and fishing out that bag of candy from the cabinet amongst the others for her evening cravings, he returned back to their little piece of the penthouse.

Spencer As he headed off for the kitchen, she made her way back to the bedroom where she had been up and down from for the last week or so.  Deciding perhaps the problem was it wasn’t their bed, it wasn’t their place, and yet she wouldn’t put any of that on John.  It was the pregnancy, she would claim, and truthfully much of it probably was, but there were additional issues.  But it was her fault they were there in the first place, so she couldn’t bring it up.  Her own temper had landed them here.  It was what it was and that was all there was to it.  In truth, she missed the apartment they shared for most of their first year of marriage, before it all went crazy.  Climbing into the bed, she propped the pillows against the headboard, leaning back against them as she made herself comfortable.  Hearing the door to their suite, it could be debated if her smile was for him or the candy, though she knew it was a bit of both.

John Truth be told, it could have been alot worse for the two. Having to leave the apartment had sucked but he had to be thankful for his brother and his innate sense of hospitality. He’d asked nothing from Johnny. Refusing his help and money. A mere reminder that Johnny had pulled him in and out of hotel beds while on the road for years, this was the least he could do. He’d allow it, yet always knowing that he’d be taking off sooner before later with her in tow. He just so happened to be fortunate enough that it had all come together at the right time and not a moment too soon. Returning to the bedroom, he met her smile yet knowing what that was for. Handing her the bag as he cracked open his bottle of water.

Spencer Her smile was quickly exchanged for a bite to her lower lip as the bag of m&m’s fit perfectly in her hand.  “We were made for each other,” she whispered, eyes set on John, though she’d not say if she meant him or the m&m’s Rhys seemed to constantly demand.  Watching him with his water, she tugged open the bag of candy before she’d pour out a few into her hand.  “Thank you.”  A word of appreciation for the man she truly appreciated more than she could ever make known.  A marriage that was never to be real had become every bit just that, bringing them to one of the biggest moments of their lives right around the corner.  A strong kick from the baby within had her bringing her hand against her stomach, abandoning the bag of m&m’s to her side as she brought her hand to her mouth, easing one at a time within.  “I think he’s already used to this game.  If I don’t play, he kicks.  If I don’t play longer, he kicks harder.”  Side eying John, already deciding this was the Johnny James in the child, taking no credit for there being any Reese in his tantrums.

John "Yeah, I think so." Taking that as her confession to the candy, knowing she was all about him. He nodded at her thanking him. Lips meeting the bottle as he tilted it back. Effectively draining the bottle in a few seconds flat before placing the empty bottle to the sidetable. Slipping back into bed as he heard her mention the baby landing a smile from him. "He doesn't like being ignored..." already attempting to show her how this was a trait of hers, his hand slipped over her stomach in attempt to both relieve her and feel him.

Spencer “Just like his father,” she offered, turning that one around on him, though she knew what he was doing there.  As his hand slipped against her stomach, she would slip her own away, reaching back for that bag of candy to pour a few more into her hand.  “Ya know, I was thinking… the whole house thing is still gonna take some time… so instead of bringing him back here, maybe we go home?”  Clenching her teeth together in a nervous smile, her brows lifted as she looked towards him, already prepared to hear all of the reasons they couldn’t, though every part of her wanted their lives back to normal, or at least as close to normal as they could have with a newborn baby in the midst.   “If you don’t think we can, I won’t mention it again, promise.”  She offered, attempting to soften the blow to yet another mention of just how much she wanted their own space again.

John "Just like his mother." Correcting her as they went, his brow cocked. Keeping his hand to her stomach. Palm gently rolling over her as he felt the slight tension underneath. Hearing her speak about the house situation, hearing her suggestion. Instantly met with a shake of his head. It wasn't safe. Her follow up met with that same shake of his head. A soft sigh as he leaned up only to lower himself. Face to face with her stomach. Pressing a gentle kiss to several spots of her. "We are not going back there. You will not be, anyway." Seeming as if he was speaking to the baby, he continued. "But you will be going home...if you can hold in for just a few more weeks, I'll have the perfect room for you done."

Spencer As the conversation seemed to shift to one between John and Rhys, Spencer’s hand came to the back of his head.  Fingertips through his hair as she leaned her head back against the headboard, she couldn’t argue with that.  She’d not remind him now that the due date was fast approaching, as he already knew.  Instead, she’d trust him and not bring it up again.  So much of her longed for home.  A home.  Their home.  Wherever it was, as long as it was theirs.  Releasing a deep breath, her fingertips continued against his hairline, fingertips guiding the short strands.  “You know, you’re a really good dad,” she offered, having known it to be true for quite some time, but finding in these moments, where he was bonding with his son before his son was even there, to be the most beautiful things she’d ever experienced.  “Rhys is lucky to have you,” she whispered, bringing another m&m to her lips, though she meant her statement entirely.  Her parents had tried to make her see having a child with this man would not play out in anyone’s favor, but it was these times here that showed her she was absolutely right to stand by him and always would.  

John Hearing her call him a good dad, he'd let her draw her own opinions. All he knew was that he loved that little boy. He loved the woman carrying him and he loved the other little boy too and he was in the business of doing right by his heart. As she continued, his eyes were locked to her stomach. Watching one particular rise where he pressed his lips. Muttering low and now speaking to Spence. "I put in an offer earlier today " though whether she'd realize he was now speaking to her was a debate. Still, he had pulled the trigger. It was time for them. Finally.

Spencer When John said he would have a perfect room for the baby, she had thought he meant a space there in the room they were within.  Eavesdropping on his conversation with Rhys, she heard the last thing he said, though it was quiet.  Her hand stilled at the back of his head, debating on if she should ask him what he meant there, or if she should let him continue talking his way through this.  Perhaps he was on to something else entirely.  Perhaps it wasn’t what she thought he meant there.  If there was one thing Spencer was not good at, it was keeping her mouth shut.  “John?”  She asked, drawing a breath just beyond his name as if it were all one motion.  Her hand guiding down his neck, slipping off him altogether.  “You put in an offer… an /offer/ offer…?”  Confusion laced the woman’s words as she tried to wrap her head around this.  There had been a list of finished houses and another list of unfinished ones, but that had been left in another time and place for her.  Without it being further discussed, she couldn’t be sure what he meant there, though she thought she might know.  “On a house, offer?”

John Feeling her hand leave him, that was one sure way to surprise her. The inquisitive tone of his name returned to him causing a smirk before her hand was gone and he shook his head once. Twice. "On a house." He confirmed, reaching out for his phone where he laid on his side. Finding the email account. Scrolling through his photos revealing the seemingly perfect Philadelphia row home. A corner house with a small front yard fenced off and a garage in the back. Seemingly everything she'd ask and visibly pricy.

Spencer As he confirmed the offer was on a house, her mind was instantly jumbled.  It would only become further crowded as he started scrolling through images, showing her that which he had selected as their future home, should his offer be accepted.  “John…” his name again at her lips, shocked as her eyes took in that which he presented to her.  It wasn’t what she thought he was talking about when he had mentioned a fixer upper, something they could afford, something that would take time, but could happen.  It was… perfect.  She had been more than willing to apply for loans to get the money up for the down payment when they found a home they thought would work, but the fact that he had already put in an offer meant the down payment money had to be locked in already.  “What?  This?  You… how?”  Clearly he had rendered his wife as close to speechless as she ever got, unable to tear her eyes from the phone to even meet his own as she brought her own finger to slide up to the image of the front of the home again.  “This isn’t a fixer upper,” she offered, as though he didn’t know.

John Hearing her blatant ask of how he had managed, he laid down the phone. Giving her his entire attention once again as he debated just how honest to be with her. Teeth gently at his bottom lip. "Some money came through."  The man confessed, hand slipping back over her stomach. "We'll be able to pull it off." Between that initial lump sum and the money that would be coming his way as he took a bigger place back within the Pagans, he was also resolved to take some general contracting gigs on the side should she let him.

Spencer As he laid the phone off to the side, she felt his hand there against her stomach again, claiming some money came through.  Her immediate thought was Judas, but she knew he wouldn’t take it from him.  The second, the club, but not enough to do this.  Knowing most of the time, ten percent needed to be put up front, she just couldn’t fathom where he had come into that kind of money.  Even pay offs she’d become quite accustomed to weren’t enough to do this, not in one day, not even in one month.  Drawing in a breath, she knew she had to trust him on this, but at the same time she worried if his desire to provide for them would lead them to further legal trouble as the two of them together seemed to place them in situations like that well enough without intention.  “I…” pausing there after the word, a smile took her face as she became entirely too overwhelmed with those images now burned into her head to even focus on the financials of it for the moment.  “I love it,” she whispered, her hand finding the side of his face, drawing her lips to his as she pressed a firm kiss to his lips.  “I love you.”  She managed there against his lips before she was reengaging that kiss, swept away by what he had done for their family that day.  Tears welled in her eyes as finally there was a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out of Judas’ and into their own place, a place that she already imagined would have a family of four within those walls in due time.  “I love you,” she whispered again, her kiss stained with the salt of her tears, potentially the first time John had brought her to tears of joy to this level before.

John Truth be told, the entire downpayment sum was divided into two sections. What he had received with no strings attached by a little dirty dealing with a man attempting to use money to buy his daughters freedom. The rest, a bit of left over money from a M.C. loan that was being used and invested into starting a new business. He had not quite discussed the fine details with Spence over that one either. The concept that he would be having a legit day job soon and steady income even if it did pour funds into the Pagans. He’d be able to take his clean off of the top and hopefully make so much profitable income and provide so many jobs that the club would not be able to say much about these little things he was taking even if it wasn’t excess. He’d live comfortably and collect a decent paycheck for what he was doing. Pressing his lips back to hers and again after that, tasting the saline of her tears. “Oh god, I broke my wife…” he added dramatically, not used to these happy tears she seemed to have in excess.

Spencer The tears were not uncommon for the woman at this point in the pregnancy, yet all too often they were for sadness, insecurity, or general discomfort displaced into something else. It was quite rare her tears were prompted by happiness, and yet this time they were. Hearing John tease her, a laugh broke through as the tears began to subside. "Yeah... You did it now," she returned, stealing a quick kiss to his lips before her hands were wiping away the expelled emotion. A moment later, it would remain obvious she had cried, even if the damp evidence was mostly gone. A sight she'd never allow anyone from the department to see, yet she made no attempt to hide such vulnerabilities from John. "But... How did you do it?" She asked, not doubting his ability to pull it off, as he was about the most determined person she knew, just simply curious at this point as to how.

John Hearing her agree that he had really broken her this time despite other times mentioning that it was a possibility, he kept his eyes on hers as she wiped away her tears. Hearing her question as he knew it was coming, yet he wished it did not. He tilted his head. Thumb reaching up to wipe away a bead or two of moisture that she had left behind. “I got a loan from the Pagans to cover some start-up costs for a new business. I skimmed some off the top.” he stated simply, knowing that it didn’t sound absolutely safe but Johnny had no doubt he could at least pay back that in all of a few months. “We are already working on a contract to do some roadwork with the state. A potential half a million dollars if we could pull it off…and that is legit money.”

Spencer As he spoke, there was a bit of a burning in the pit of her stomach. A Pagan loan on their house hardly sounded safe, yet she knew John wouldn't let them lose it all, but what worried her was just how much he would do to protect their family. She could have gotten a loan for them, something where death wasn't a penalty of defaulting, but as she sat with him, she wouldn't breathe a word of it. She knew he needed to take care of them. It was who he was through and through. The uneasy look seeped through her hues despite her best effort to mask it. "How soon should you hear back if they accepted?" She asked, shifting her thoughts away from the financials of it, allowing herself to feel the excitement she previously had, knowing as soon as she got back to work, she could up her own takes to get out from under that loan a little faster.

John Knowing it was hard to understand and not get nervous about, he’d have to explain that it wasn’t a typical loan. The business would be good for the money he had taken from literally its start-up costs that first day. He had the utmost confidence in this idea as he had finally gotten the M.C. to bite. Yet, little could he explain this as it was not /that/ much money. “That is maybe like 7-8 grand…” he hummed, the remaining 12 coming from a much safer choice. Killing him not to tell her this but it would be for a later day. After the baby was born. When the stress couldn’t be potentially harmful for her.

Spencer As he explained it wasn't that much money, she couldn't place it until he offered figures. "That down payment though... They only asked for 8 down?"  She knew there was no way he convinced a mortgage company to take so little down. It didn't make sense. It made her feel better that they weren't deeply indebted to the M.C. for this, but the numbers didn't match. "John... What are you not telling me?"  That uneasy feeling was only becoming stronger as he eluded to something more, not understanding why he wouldn't just come out with it. Only able to imagine it was skimmed off the club at this point, which led to scenarios she didn't want to think of should it be discovered.

John: Hearing her working things out, he exhaled low. He had not married a stupid woman by any means, it wasn’t easy to pass things over her head. To tell her, yet to not tell her. Still, he knew the information he had at present could have the ability to really, really hurt the woman. He wasn’t even sure if hurt was the word. Not to mention, he wasn’t quite sure that he had done the right thing by her by doing what he was doing. “Speeeeence…” he groaned low, rolling onto his back as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Can you just believe me when I tell you that you don’t want to know?”

Spencer As he turned to his back, she knew instantly that this wasn't good. Followed by his words, enough to take that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach to a new height. Silence now separated the two as she fought that internal battle as to push further or not. Slow, deep breaths passed her lips as she attempted to keep her cool, but it was failing her. "Just tell me one thing. Is there any chance you will be in prison orange?"  Imagining there would be nothing worse, she would ask just that one question and nothing more. If it couldn't land him in prison, she would accept what he was saying in that she didn't want to know. In truth, she wanted to know. She wanted to know where their house was coming from. She wanted to know everything, no matter how much she might not like it. But in this, her trust had to fall on him, even if her mind was running like crazy.

John "Noooo..." he immediately stated upon her question, fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose. "No. No. Not at all. Completely fuckin' legal." Sighing, as he wished it wasn't. Thinking that nearly anything better than this situation would have been the best alternative despite how illegal. There were no repercussions. No consequence. Atleast not one that he feared. Yet, it was weighing all too heavily. Maybe this was what was keeping him from sleep. A sense of guilt more because he did not want to tell her. Yet, she needed to know. "Very legal." He confessed as he glanced towards her. Fighting the urge just to hold her as he leaned over. Lips to her forehead. "I'm sorry." He stated, not for his mistakes but the mistakes of another.

Spencer Feeling that kiss to her forehead, she was in the process of just accepting his words. Accepting there would be secrets between them wasn't easy, but she knew she had to trust him. There was a weight in his words, something she easily picked up on. However this came to pass, it seemed he was not okay with it, but at least it wasn't illegal. "You know selling organs is illegal, right?"  A bit of a teasing phrase at her lips though she was lacking the tone to match it. Trying. It was all she could do in that moment. Hearing his apology, it would only strike more concern in her as she brought her hand to the side of his face. "Don't be. I love the house. I love that you did this for him, for us. I love that it's legal. You tell me it's all okay?  Then it's all okay."

John “No organs. No good ones around these parts anyway.” he reminded her, as everyone was pretty fucked up in their own right. Feeling her at the side of his face again, he heard her attempt to reason with him. To level. Yet, would it be okay? In truth? He sighed, a nod of his head. Letting her have this one until a different thought floated to his mind all together. The birth, the delivery. Who would be present or who was she atleast inviting? Eyes flickering up to meet hers. “Are you invitin’ anyone from your family to be in the room with you?”

Spencer A weak smile found her lips as he mentioned there being no good ones around. He was probably right. As he shifted the conversation, it had been one of many things she thought of during those sleepless nights. "In a perfect world?  You and my mom."  If it were so easy. "I'm actually going to talk to her over the next few days. Was thinking if I stopped by?  Maybe she won't be able to refuse?  See if maybe you guys could share a bit of air that day?"  Every statement was offered as a question as she truly needed to talk to him about it before she could even consider speaking to her mother. "What do you think...?  My mom's not so bad. It's my father more than her," she offered truthfully, praying her wanting both John and her mom wouldn't sit wrong with John. "But if you'd rather me not, I won't." She seemed to promise as it was his place at her side before anyone else's.

John As she continued, confirming what he had been thinking. He shook his head at the suggestion of him not wanting that. He did want that. He wanted her to have her mother’s comfort. Even if he did not have the same relationship with his own mother, he understood that others could and did. Yet, mention of her father had sent him on another mental loop. Did her mother know? Was it their joint plan? Granted, the plans had never been mentioned from them both. Merely him. Maybe even she did not know as the man did not seem to keep his wife in the know. “No, I think your mother should be there.”

Spencer With his simple agreement, the smile to her face brightened to a level only comparable to that which he gave her with the shock of the house. "Thank you," she whispered, moved by his agreement. "Maybe dad can bite his tongue enough to come in after, meet his grandson... It could take some work, but it's been months now since I've seen him. October? Maybe when he feels Rhys, the mighty, here... He might win him over," she added, thinking if anything could show her father that John was a good man and husband would be to see him as a father. "You think we should try to get River?  Not for in the room during... But maybe see if they would bring him by later in the day?"  Spencer's relationship to River's grandmother had afforded them frequent access, though she needed to see if that was something John wanted, knowing how hard the goodbye was on him.

John And there it was, mention of his father. The man didn’t want to be around and that was quite fine with him because even if he did decide one day, magically, that it was okay, John was not okay. He didn’t want him around his son. He didn’t trust the man. He didn’t trust grandparents in general with their “know best” attitude. He might not have been the best man for the job, but he’d be damned if worse men had not raised children. He wanted this one. Not that he ever did not want River but he’d go to the grave fighting for this one. There would be no repeat of last time. “Unless this kid comes out looking like you, acting like you…with none of my blood, he ain’t gonna’ win him over.” the man reminded her. With his last name, his blood, there was no winning. His son wouldn’t experience that rejection on the first day of his life. As he mentioned River, he had to shrug his shoulders. “I don’t know. I doubt they’d just give him to me and you are gonna’ be a little busy, needless to say…”

Spencer John was probably right about her father, but it wouldn't stop the determined woman before him from trying. She knew her father. She knew he loved her. She knew he couldn't turn from his only grandchild. She would show John and try to fix this. As he continued about River, it was true. The trust there had been put in Spencer, but perhaps it could still work. "Maybe if we didn't ask his grandmother to drop him off?  Just bring him by for a short time so he could meet his brother?"  A soft shrug met her shoulders as she was trying to juggle very sensitive situations just moments after being told she didn't need to know where the house was coming from.

John “I think it is always worth the try.” the man concluded, what was the worse that could happen? He was denied? There was still a chance that he would get a ‘yes.’ Maybe that yes would lead to more. Maybe that yes would show that he was capable of this. Granted, they’d give every victory to Spencer. Her teaching him things, restraining him. If only they knew that in truth it was he who wore the pants in all of this, he’d let them think that for their sake. What Spence got was never something Johnny wasn’t capable of with a little comfort and stability in his life.

Spencer The possibility of a yes was always enough for Spencer to try. Only once could she recall being denied and even that had been some time ago. Her fingertips brushed softly against his face as she nodded her head in agreement. "Then we'll ask," she offered, already able to picture it within her mind. The four of them, the way it would hopefully soon be full time. "When can I see the house?" She asked, drawing a deep breath as that nagging feeling was still prevalent that he was keeping something from her, hoping she could find some way to convince him that whatever it was, it would be alright. Her only fear being him finding legal trouble as she was not on the inside at this time, nor would she be for at least two months to come.

John Hearing her ask to see the house, he watched her and tilted his own head. “Hopefully after my offer gets accepted?” he asked honestly, knowing how hard it was to keep her from this but he knew any additional stress was bad for business. Bad for her, bad for the baby. Hand still sweeping over her stomach as he glanced down. “Think he finally went to sleep?” he asked, a low whisper as if he could hear him and be woken up.

Spencer The whisper at his lips had a smile to her face for both the idea of the offer being accepted as well as Rhys falling asleep. A part of her so accustomed to speaking of him that he felt real, another part of her unable to wait to see him, hold him, kiss him. "I think so..." She offered, having not felt anything from him in some time there. "Just think, after he's born, when he sleeps, we won't feel like we have to do this whole sit super still so he won't wake."  Her mind drifting to places it had been a long time since they truly visited. Times of alcohol and hand cuffs. Times where her trust in him was tested. Just the thought of it threatened her temptation, evident in the bite against her lower lip.  "So, what if we invite my parents here to talk...?  Maybe we both sit with them, have dinner, tell them about the house, and then see if they will come to the hospital?  Maybe if we tried together?"

John Hearing her agree that he might have finally fallen asleep, he kept his hand over his stomach. As she mentioned after he was born, he nodded. “It is kind of funny…they are completely self sufficient in there but as soon as they come out, you are gonna’ wish he was back in.” he teased, having enough experience with newborns to be able to tell her that it was an occasionally rough experience. Yet, this time around, both of them would be sober and there would be no attempts to run out on him to get high and leave him with the kid. Something nerve wracking for any first time parent. Hearing her mention her parents once more, he met her eyes. “Just your mother.” he decided aloud, her father was not worthy of her affections.

Spencer Spencer truly had no idea just what life would be like once Rhys was born. She was an only child with no point of reference. What she knew of infants were sad stories usually involving her making a call to dcfs on the child's behalf. She could breathe easy at least knowing Rhys would never need such intervention. As he stated just her mother, she released a heavy breath. She hadn't seen or heard from the man since October and hoped he would be there, at least for a moment to meet Rhys. "Are you going to let him ever meet Rhys?" She managed the question narrowly as her voice cracked beneath the weight of it. Her hand slipped into John's, thumb grazing softly against his. "If he sees you taking care of us, he will lose his stance on everything. If he got to know you, I know him. He will come around."

John "I will not trust him with Rhys." He concluded, being completely honest with her as she went on. Free hand passing over the side of her face. Lips tightening. She wanted so hard to see the best in this man. He shook his head in disagreement. "He doesn't want to get to know me, Spence. He doesn't want me around. He doesn't want a grandkid with my last name. The only way he could tolerate it was if I was gone entirely." He added, knowing that this was hardly speculation. He had heard it from his own lips. "Only men can raise children that the law system doesn't have to." He added, a very specific, leaked quote. The man had nearly opened with such when the offer was made and he could imagine it had been quite the staple in that household.

Spencer At first, she felt she could argue every word as the fact John didn’t know her father.  He would come around, it would just take time.  Maybe it was time Spencer showed her who she was with before, who she was engaged to marry.  Maybe then he might understand that her father was caught off guard by this.  But as the words came forth, a quote she knew well from her father, her hand within his stilled.  No longer did she stroke her finger against his.  She knew that quote well.  “My father said that to you at the hospital that day?” she asked, having thought she was present for the entire altercation only to now wonder if she had missed something.  Turning her head to meet his eyes, completely serious with no taste of teasing in her.  “When did my father say that to you?”  More than ready to call the man right then and there, to stand up for John and for Rhys.  Her heart rate was already quickening as her blood pressure was rising.

John The woman would need to be quite brave to explain to John who she was engaged to previous. It would open Pandora's box and she was not ready to see him go there. At his most insecure, his absolute lowest. He'd make her jealousy look amateur in comparison. Thinking not much of it until she spoke and he realized he had unintentionally shot himself in the foot. The quote had stuck with him, the phasing. Maybe he was right. Meeting her eyes, he wasn't quite sure how to respond yet the mere look on his face showed that something had happened more than she realized.

Spencer As he met her eyes, she knew instantly this had not been months before in the hospital when he had originally fought with her father.  It was something more recent.  It was a private conversation between he and Brock, to which Spencer had not been involved in.  Drawing in another deep breath, she could feel the emotion welling at her eyes once more, only this time not out of joy.  “What happened, John…?  He tracked you down?  What did he say?”  She couldn’t place when this had happened, but she’d already decided in this that her father was to blame for it.  She knew if she spoke to him, things might have worked out, but putting together the oil and water that was John and Brock without Spencer there to mediate, it was never going to pan out.  At this moment, she wasn’t mad.  No part of her felt disdain for John in the matter, though she did want to know what had happened; what was said.  A light was turned on to that which was John’s distaste for her father.  It evidently wasn’t a singular event in the hospital that day and now she felt more in the dark than ever, waiting for John to help her out with this.

John It was just at that moment, seeing the moisture welling up in the corner of her ears, that he wanted to wrap his hands around that man's neck and snap it in half. His paternal instincts were on high, be it hormonal or merely psychological. He didn't like someone making her cry. "He uh..." paused, reaching up where the back of his fingers met her cheek. "I went into work one day and got told someone was at the bar to speak to me. It was him. Didn't want to talk to him or see him but...brought him back to the office..." he began, just incase he needed to snap his neck, he didn't have any witnesses. "And he tried to negotiate the terms that would make me leave you and the baby. Had a few ideas but..." he shook his head, she got the point.

Spencer Having remained laying down, propped against the headboard this entire time, it was as John began his story that she would sit up entirely.  The room, though large, feeling too small.  Her father had come to the club and approached John.  That was enough for her to snap, but as he went on, she wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.  “Negotiate terms…?”  Her question had been longer than that, but it was at that point in time she lost the ability to draw air.  Her eyes shot to the ceiling as she attempted to focus on something, anything.  She knew Brock hated her being with John, but to negotiate him away from her, she couldn’t stomach it.  Shallow breaths taken, unable to bring in a full breath, her hand falling weak in John’s.  “What… terms…?”  It was then things would suddenly start to make more sense.  The money he didn’t want her asking about.  The house.  As words flew through her mind, it suddenly hit her this wasn’t even possible.  Her father didn’t have money.  She gave her parents money.  He was the reason she had turned dirty in the first place.  Medical bills.  Hundreds of thousands of dollars of them.  A life in Texas.  Sacrifice after sacrifice.  Closing her eyes, she felt the room begin to spin as the image of a blade entered her mind.  Each cut against her flesh to pay for the money she took, to pay for her father’s chance at life.  “Oh God,” she breathed out as she bit against her lower lip, attempting not to cry, though everything in her was ready to break something, to let that emotion forth, to grip the handle of a knife as she had the last time she felt this within her.

John Watching as she pieced it together, the man slowly pulled himself up in the bed. Leaning back against the headboard. "Hey..." he began, hearing her breath and the emotion welling forward. Hand in hers as his arm swept her and attempted to pull her between his legs. To let her back hit his stomach. To let him hold her through this. "He told me what kind of man I was and told me how this was going to go. Bribing me to soothe me and my inconvenience..." bypassing his exact words there. "So I showed him what kind of man I was. I agreed to something I wasn't ever going to do and took his money. Put it into something for us that I know will come back 10 fold." Bypassing the fact that the other half would have been achieved if he had come through on his end. Hell, they could get the other half if she played along but it was so far out of the back of his mind as he attempted to comfort her.

Spencer Feeling him draw her to his chest, she wouldn’t fight the strength of his arm, though she knew he’d not force her.  Letting him hold her, at least he couldn’t see her face as she lost the hold on those tears she had tried so hard to hold back.  “He would rather me be…” unable to get the words out beyond it, no longer were her tears hidden by the sight line he lacked as they were there in her voice.  Relenting, she leaned back into him, turning her face to the side to find his neck as she attempted to process all he had just explained.  She was sure she wasn’t supposed to take this personally, but yet it was strictly personal.  Her father would prefer her raise this baby a bastard, face a life without the man she loved, so much so that he would pay him to leave her… it was too much for her to process.  She knew he didn’t like John.  She knew he didn’t like any choice she had made since they had relocated from Dallas, but this was insane to her.  This was not the Brock Reese she was raised to love and respect, to want to emulate in her own profession.  She knew he had been unfair to John at the hospital and in the first time she had told him she had fallen for the man and married him behind their backs, but this was beyond acceptable.  “You took his money… so he thinks… he thinks you are… and that I’m… so if I invite him…”  None of her words made any sense and she knew it, but a single thought could not be completed as she drew for air.  The one and only other time she had been upset to this level had been the first night she turned to John in tears, after speaking with her father to tell him she was married.  It was evident Spencer’s dad had meant the world to her, but as of right now, she couldn’t help but feel in some way that she had been a transaction that could be bought and paid for, that her father had no faith in her or her heart for that matter, not giving two shits what she wanted or what she had given up for that man.  

John The man must not have realized how absurd his offer was. He didn't know him like he thought he did. Not like Spence did. All about the bleeding hole he had in his chest for River. How he mourned for him every single day. How he could not be bought. Feeling her pressing to his neck, his arms wound around her. Truing to keep her close yet comfortable. "No, he knows he's been dicked over by now. Been a few weeks." The man confessed, as he spoke, realizing that this just might have been why his sleep had been so interrupted. Yet, he wouldn't be as stupid to think her father wouldn't get dramatic with all of this. "But I'm going to do what he couldn't. I can't fill the gaps, Spence...but I can pay you back that money. It's yours anyway. I'll put it in your hand and you can choose what to do with it knowin' in an ass backwards sense, we wouldn't be where we are about to be without his bullshit offer."

Spencer Feeling his arms firmly around her, yet not too tight in the slightest, it would be the best thing he could do for her in that moment, though she wasn’t sure there was a such thing as comfort in this matter.  A man she had put her entire life on hold to save, to help, to get treated, had now tried to destroy hers.  She couldn’t understand it.  She knew if she could just get her father to listen and to open his eyes, he would come to love john for none could compare to how he treated her.  She knew if they just had the chance, that they may not all be one big happy family, but they could at least share the same air space from time to time for the sake of their grandchild.  She truly couldn’t blame John for what he had said now, as after the things John’s own mother had done to Spencer, she wouldn’t allow her near the child either, but this was so final.  Robbing a child of any and all grandparents because no one could see further than the end of their own noses and the one that would pay in this would be Rhys.  The tears would not stop as they had before as Spencer literally felt the pain of her heart breaking in two.  As John offered to pay her back, though she knew he was right, it was her money, she shook her head no.  She had obtained nearly every dime of it illegally.  She had paid her debt in the scars on her abdomen.  Scars she now felt as though she never should have carried.  “So how much am I worth?” She asked, a raspy whisper barely able to be heard as it was the only question she had left within her.  How much had her father tried to buy her for?  How much was she worth to the man?

John She might have obtained it illegally but it was being returned legally. She literally had no choice in the matter. It was time to recycle all the negatives into a positive. To have some closure. What she chose to do with it would be on her. Maybe a cushion, a new car for her, something for the baby, something for her, something on the house. It just had to go back into something good. Hearing her question, he shook his head. "You don't get a price tag. Ain't for sale." He stated honestly, feeling that to be a question that did more harm than good

Spencer If nothing else, she felt she deserved to know what her father deemed her worth to be.  Lifting from the place at his neck she had buried herself until now, she turned slightly, saturated eyes meeting his as she shook her head no.  Her voice elevating slightly, not in anger to him but in heartbreak.  “Tell me how much I’m worth to him.”  She requested without wavering on the matter.  She couldn’t think beyond that question.  She couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around any of this in the slightest, but it was the most prominent question on her mind.  Her words did not interrupt the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks as she attempted the request again.  “Please, just tell me.”  Perhaps never before feeling her heart within her as she did now, the idea that her father thought her relationship with John was so surface that it would take nothing more than a sum of money to make the man disappear from her life. Only able to wonder how this was supposed to play out.  The number of reasons that may have been offered to John to use, surely with the idea of minimizing the impact of it to send Spencer running back to her father’s loving arms.  If she couldn’t get John to tell her, she’d call her father directly, or better yet, go downstairs, get in her car, and drive to his apartment demanding answers.

John Hearing her raise her voice, she’d have to know that this sort of thing didn’t work on him. No matter how upset. If he didn’t think she should know, he wouldn’t tell her. There was no sense in her knowing. Would this just hurt her further? The question was prevalent in his mind. Hearing her ask again, his hand slipping up to brush the stream from her cheeks. “There isn’t an amount, Spence.” he returned, refusing to let her worth be summed up in a frankly insulting number.

Spencer There was an amount and he knew it, which meant she was not okay with not knowing it.  He knew what she was worth to her own father.  He knew how much money his father associated with her freedom, as though she were being held captive.  The more she thought on it, the worse it felt.  It would continue to get worse as the smaller particles became prevalent in her mind.  As she worked through it, coming to further feel that house that she thought was so perfect, that she had cried joyful tears over, was tainted.  Bought with money meant to buy her from John’s control.  A burning sensation rose to the back of her throat.  Swallowing it back, the air seemed too thick to fully breathe it in.  “There is a fucking amount.  There is a dollar amount that he thinks he can buy me for.  While I’m out there, tarnishing the badge I swore by, all in the name of keeping him alive, he was what?  Saving it up to buy me?”  Quickly she was going from sadness to full outrage, making a move to leave that bed.  Regardless of the time, she had somewhere to be.  There was no sense of control as she saw nothing but red, similar to the morning she planted a blade in the chest of a blonde repeatedly.  No control.  No thought that it was wrong.  A sharp kick of the baby within to her rib cage had her freezing in her attempt to slip from the bed, a grunt at her lips as she brought her hand to press against his foot now feeling as if it were lodged between her ribs.

John “He really wasn’t tryin’ to buy you…he was tryin’ to buy me.” he reminded her, as the money was intended for him to start a new life. Attempting to buy him off of her and not quite the other way around and thus he could see what she was talking about. As the man had presented the suggestion, it was to buy his agreement as well as his silence on the matter. To disappear into the night or to go to Spencer one day and simply confess that he had cheated on her and to place his wedding ring down on the counter and be done with it. To end things in such a way that her father had known that Spence could never come back to him. Watching as she attempted to get up, he could tell she was escalating. “Spencer…” he began as she began to get up, watching her freeze as she stopped suddenly. Leaning up as he knew it was a little much too soon. “Easy.”

Spencer Hearing her name, it was as though it were muffled, spoken through water, against a closed door.  His presence was known and felt, and yet he felt a million miles away.  Another deep kick against her ribs had another groan from her lips.  “Rhys,” she whispered, pressing her hand harder against her ribs as though she could force the little one within to relocate his kicks back to a place less painful.  Closing her eyes, she made no further attempt to move for a moment as he delivered kick after kick in the same place.  Turning her head slightly to the side as she tried to find that deep breath to get through it, but the boy was unrelenting.  Easing her hand behind her, she pressed to the bed to stand up, her feet finding the floor, no longer on the mission to get to her father; though it had only been put on pause.  One foot in front of the other, she attempted to distract the boy from that which he had deemed a punching bag for the moment.  Opening her eyes, she found John, sitting up in the bed, clearly ready to intervene.  “I’m okay,” she whispered, a nod of her head to assure him.  She might have felt like no more than a ten cent hoe at that moment, as she clearly viewed it as her father attempting to pay her ransom, to find a dollar amount to buy her back from John’s hold, but she wouldn’t let John sit there just a few feet away from her and worry for the baby she carried.  If there was one thing she was certain of, he loved that child.  Knowing as long as she felt him moving, he was fine, there was nothing to be concerned over.  She just needed to get his toes out of her ribs so she could go and face her father.

John He wasn’t reacting just out of love for his son but out of love for the woman who carried him as well. She wasn’t a mere vessel for delivery. Watching her stand up, he was doing the same. He wouldn’t overcrowd her, he wouldn’t grab for her. But he was going to be there if something happened here. Watching her carefully as his light eyes remained locked on hers. The woman knew how to get him on the edge in that moment as she was unpredictable but he couldn’t just grab her and hold her to the bed as he might normally a few months ago. Now he had to actually use his words to talk her through these things. “I’m here, Spence.” he reminded her, not only if she needed his physical help but a reminder that he had not taken the bait. The extra sum of cash. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Spencer Hearing his words as he was there close by, she nodded her head as she pressed her hand harder into her ribs.  Step after step, she was now pacing the room, an act that might have appeared as rage, but was just in her attempt to stop the little James within her from killing her from the inside as it felt like.  Taking John’s hand, as she had so many times before in delight, she brought his hand to her ribcage, waiting a moment there for him to feel the impact against her bones.  “He’s mad,” she offered.  She had felt this before, but never to this degree, as he reacted to her emotions on a regular basis.  This time, perhaps to stop her from killing his grandfather, but every time it would remind her of that which they stood to lose by her emotional stupidity.  Her eyes lifted to John’s, the red screen she seemed to view through fading into lighter shades, almost returning to normal.  “I was going to kill him,” she confessed blatantly as they both now knew she was capable of doing.  “It was just like the woman, everything.  If he was here… the fuck is wrong with me?”  She asked, feeling the emotional weight bearing against her as she realized she was not herself.  Ready to act on any bout of emotion that struck her, she bit at her lower lip as her head found John’s upper arm.  “I’m not okay,” she confessed, allowing herself to need him in that moment based purely on the reminder he had given her.  He was there.  He wasn’t gone.  He wasn’t elsewhere with someone else, spending her father’s money that was actually her own.  He was there.  “I’m not okay,” she repeated as Rhys continued his assault, bruising her rib from the inside, feeling it every time she drew a breath.

John Feeling her guide his hand to her stomach and ribs, he heard her statement and nodded. Feeling the strength of the little guy making his whereabouts known yet knowing it was nothing like what she was experience. The thought alone making him nearly hurt as he didn’t envy the woman. Only wishing there was a way for him to take away the discomfort as he met her eyes. Her confession drawing a nod as he was quite tempted to kill the man himself. “What is wrong with you is that you are pregnant and you kill people when you are pregnant…maybe I should consider a vasectomy, huh?” the man teased, or atleast until it was turned on him. Feeling her at his upper arm, that arm slipping around her shoulders to pull her in the best way he knew how. Hearing her speak. “Let’s try to sit you down and see if he’ll go back to sleep…might just be jumpy because he got woken up.” he reminded her as he attempted to lure her to the beds edge once more.

Spencer She had never felt this to this degree before.  She didn’t know if there was a possible way to get him to stop until he severed the rib in two, at least that’s what it felt like his goal was.  Perhaps making more room.  Perhaps demanding his mother calm herself down.  Regardless, he had made himself known and instantly became the center of attention.  Drawing a deep breath, perhaps the first full breath she had been able to find since John broke the news to her, she nodded her head, joining him at his guiding to the edge of the bed where she eased down against it, taking a seat with him.  “That’s great.  Some people crave pickles and ice cream; I murder people.”  Sighing, she hated it.  She held deep remorse for the murder of the blonde and yet she couldn’t find remorse for wanting to hurt her father.  Shifting her eyes to meet his, she drew in another breath as her hand found his thigh.  “You know that I love you, and I hold no regrets with us?”  She asked, needing to make sure he knew how she felt, especially knowing there could have been any number of things fed to him by her father.  She didn’t know what he told him, or what he didn’t.  Her mind instantly shifting to a man her father would have deemed a better fit for his daughter, praying he hadn’t used Chris against John; a part of her knowing if he had, her father might be dead already.  

John Hearing her question that seemed out of the blue, the man’s eyes lured down to meet hers. Her father had not said much of anything besides her offer. He wasn’t stupid enough to prompt Johnny. A flare up of jealousy could end him and he seemed to recognize that he would get further through honey than vinegar. Neither liked one another, but her father had been decent enough of an ass kisser to see that pissing him off wouldn’t get him what he wanted. “I’d hope not.” he returned as he sat down beside her. “Because it is a little late for regrets or for running.”

Spencer Shaking her head as he mentioned running, it was one thing she couldn’t imagine doing.  Only once in their marriage had she considered such a thing after his mother made it blatantly clear to her that she was delusional for believing John could ever be faithful to her when he could have a million others, and did.  Looking back, she believed it to be the same day the woman laid hands on her as well.  Releasing a held breath as she tried to let go of that, it stood to say she wasn’t running.  She’d sooner die than run.  Feeling him there beside her, her hand tightened against his thigh as she felt another full kick to her ribs, eliciting that groan from her lips as she closed her eyes, resting her head to his shoulder.  “Feels like he’s doing demolition to create an expanded space,” offering the best explanation she could as her mind was quickly away from homes, dirty money, and price tags for the moment.  

John Unfortunately, Johnny was used to people running. Abandonment. Being left behind. From the start, it had always been the same. Feeling her against his thigh, he glanced down as she spoke. “Want me to try to talk some sense into him?” he offered, not sure if it would work but he was willing to give it a go as if the kid didn’t know the sound of his father’s voice by now, he might not ever be able to. “You know what I heard though? When you are pregnant with boys, you wind up with their testosterone so maybe your need to whoop ass all the time is just testosterone and you now know what it is like to be a man. You are either horny or angry, no in between.”

Spencer If it was possible to smile with these tears in her eyes, it would be brought forth by none other than him.  Such rage had filled her, and yet he had found the one thing that would bring those tears to a halt.  “Horny or angry pretty much sums up the last nine months,” she agreed, nodding her head to his offer to try to talk Mr. James down.  Her hand slipping from his thigh to the crook of his arm, she eased back, laying down against the bed as she reached to the side for a pillow.  Just that reach had her grumbling a complaint at the internal bruise the little one had inflicted on her.  Shifting slightly, she retrieved the pillow, bringing it behind her head as she closed her eyes as if it would give John that privacy with Rhys.  Slow breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth, attempting to relax herself and potentially Rhys as well.

John “Pretty much sums up the last 20 sum years.” The man agreed as he watched her lay back, watching her get comfortable before he’d lean in. Positioned over her stomach and against his side. “Listen here, little guy…” he began, voice loud enough so she could hear him as well but only being playful as he settled in closer. Speaking in a low whisper as it was a conversation intended just for the two of them. “I know you are excited that you are going to be here soon…but you have to be nice to your Mommy. Kicking her isn’t going to get you here any faster but you will be soon and she’s pretty cool, I think. I think you’ll like her. I know you’ll like her. Save the good stuff for when you get to pee on us and keep us up all night…”

Spencer Hearing John start out all tough with Rhys, she couldn’t help but smirk to herself.  She could just imagine John keeping him in line as he grew up, starting out with phrases just like that one.  If there was anyone she trusted to raise this child with, it was John.  Knowing only a small degree of what John had been through, she knew he would be the best father to their child.  She knew this child would be raised under a firm, yet loving hand, without a doubt in the world.  As his voice lowered, she knew things were personal there, not even minding as he spoke against her stomach, hearing not a word of the private conversation there.  Simply focusing in on those breaths as another kick was delivered as the boy showed his defiance, or at least that was what Spencer would call it.  A whine found her lips as she breathed through it, feeling the foot drawing back from the delicate rib as finally some relief was found.  Bringing her hand to the back of John’s neck, a soft touch from a woman who was seeing red not too long before, finally feeling the child withdraw a bit, giving her the ability to take a slightly painful breath as the next few days would entail thanks to his strong kick.

John Hearing her whine, he had thought that maybe just maybe it would be successful. Maybe it would not. Maybe the kid would have a red hot rebellious streak like the two of them seemed to have. Then again, he had fallen right into place in his life. Maybe more rebellious like his mother. Regardless, he felt her at the back of his neck. Pressing a gentle kiss to her stomach. He lifted slowly to lay besides her. Giving up a low sigh, it had been a long night alright. “I’m about to have 2 kids…” he remarked, as if the revelation of that number 2 was rolling up on him. “I’m going to be a father of two…two.” emphasizing the number with his fingers, he couldn’t help but think that there was something crazy about that statement.

Spencer Feeling that kiss to her stomach before he came to lay beside her, her knees still bent at the edge of the bed, half on, half off, she heard him start in with the sudden realization that he was going to be a father of two.  “Yeah… “ she whispered, nodding her head as her hand remained there to the back of his neck, shifting slightly onto her side, hoping not to disturb the baby in the process.  “An amazing father of two, with a wife that loves him more every day than the one before.”  Her words were honest, unrestrained as they once were.  She knew where she could make such statements and where she could not, and within the privacy of the room, he was stuck with any and all of her emotions as she would freely give them to him without need for code words to do the job as they relied upon in public.  “Maybe you put off that whole vasectomy thing and we have at least one or two more…?”  For the first time, she was venturing into a conversation they had never had of just how many they wanted together.  Truthfully, she had dreams of them when she was younger, but had given up on that when she married him, not imagining them to ever get there.  Yet here they were, and now looking into the future, she couldn’t imagine that they would stop with just the two.  “Maybe give me a girl?”  She asked, a soft smile gracing her lips as she imagined a miniature of herself with his eyes.  “In a few years maybe?”

John “I think you are safe on that front since a lot of doctors won’t do that shit in your twenties anyway…” he commented, knowing a bit more about it as he had been resolved to get one before her after he lost River. To never put himself through that again. Had she been a few months later, she might have missed the boat entirely. Hearing her mention giving him a girl, he glanced over towards her. A shrug of his shoulders. “You think you are less inclined to kill somebody with a girl?” he asked, as the estrogen might do something else to her entirely.

Spencer He knew far more on the matter than she did, so she wouldn’t dispute it in the slightest, though she’d wonder momentarily how it was he knew this.  “I don’t know… guess there’s one way to find out,” she offered, a smirk to her lips as she flashed a smile towards him.  She didn’t anticipate killing while pregnant with a boy, still not entirely able to believe she had taken a life.  A sick feeling would always pass over her with the idea of it as she was so entirely not herself at that time, but it was still her hands that had done it.  “You think you’d want a couple more though?”  She asked, wanting to gauge where he was on this since he was the one with two of his own already.  

John His hand trailed to her back, attempting to rub her back and work out any severe areas of tension. Hearing her question, he nodded. "I mean...yeah, as long as we have the money for it. I just don't want to be broke doing it." The man explained, having grown up that way and as a result, never wanting to do that with kids. "I don't really have a number. A cap. As long as we can work it out then I'm alright." He answered, benefits and health allowing. Lips grazing her temple.

Spencer A soft hum found her lips as she agreed to his terms there, feeling the exact same way.  As much as she hated what her father had done there, she could see why John accepted the money and how it would benefit their family in the process.  It hurt.  It wasn’t going to stop hurting any time soon, but now that the shock had worn off a bit there, she could at least see it as something slightly better than what she did moments before.  Feeling his hand to her back, his lips to her temple, she let her eyes fall closed.  “Angry or horny,” she repeated from previously as it was clearly one or the other.  Something so simple as a touch from the man able to send her mind into those places, though she still longed for that which she could not have.  “As soon as I’m cleared by this doctor, I want you,” she whispered, emphasis on ‘want’ to speak to the manner in which she wanted him.  The manner in which he taught her to love.  Her free hand easing to the top of his boxers, assisting her words as she drew in as close as her stomach would presently allow.  

John Hearing her reminder, he had to laugh. Only attempting to be affectionate and supportive of her as the opposite was achieved. Hearing her speak, he smirked to himself. "Think you'll make it?" He added curiously, feeling her to the top of his boxers as he took in an even breath. Feeling a particularly stiff knot of tension in the center of her back, attempting to work it clean.

Spencer “Guess I’m going to have to,” she whispered, feeling his hand working at the source of her tension in her back.  Drawing an easier breath in, he should be assured his wife would never want for anyone or anything else.  Finding their way through a stressful conversation, she couldn’t imagine it would end here, like this, but she was relieved it had.  There would still be a confrontation with her father, this much she was sure of, but for now it could be placed on the back burner as she felt more confident than ever that it was truly about she and this man and no one could tear them apart, try as they may.  “Do you miss it?” Her honest question came forth as she had wondered it many times over the course of the pregnancy.  Their dynamic had changed drastically, though she always imagined it was only for the safety of the child growing within her.  A part of her though wondered if he’d be able to pick it up again after she gave birth to his child.

John Hearing her question, he hardly needed to ask. It had been their entire relationship for so long  Between the physical, primal urges and the connection that came later. His teeth at his bottom lip, focusing on where his hand had discovered. "Like nobody's fuckin' business." The man confessed honestly, as if she was looking for truth, she'd get it. "But...we can be close now without fucking so it could be worse. Before, that was all we had." He reminded her, as it all owed his emotional needs to still be met and knowing he could do the same for her as well.

Spencer She was in no way complaining about the turn their sexual life had taken, enjoying that connection they had built there from the very first time it happened without intent, yet she had wondered from time to time if he still had a thirst for the encounters that required safe words.  His response brought a full grin from the woman as she released a sigh that would speak to her own take on it.  “Yeah, we can,” she agreed, a hint of interest there in her voice as she attempted to keep it under wraps but it would seep through without her consent.  A part of her thinking a release might be just what the both of them could need to feel close to one another considering all they had just been through, with the additional point that perhaps it would get the both of them to sleep, but fearing Rhys finding her ribs again all at the same time.  “You should try to get a little more sleep… Are you working today?” she asked, her own day including none of the sort as she was already riding maternity leave as she could truthfully go into labor any day now according to the doctor.

John "Sleep ain't easy." The man reminded her, for neither side. He seemed more and more empathetic to her as each day passed. Hearing her question, he nodded. "Eventually." He returned. Eventually he'd have to crawl out of bed and face the music but he was in no big rush. "But I already got more sleep in the time earlier than I did all the night before so don't go worryingly about me...apparently 3 hours is just what the doctor ordered."

Spencer A hum found her lips as she could fully relate to the concept of sleep not coming easy.  They were both sleep deprived as of the last few weeks, and for that she was sorry, feeling as though she were constantly disturbing him with her inability to be comfortable in one place for too long.  “I miss sleeping with you,” she confessed, recalling easily days she could wind herself around him and knock out for ten hours straight, knowing those days were long gone as even when Rhys was born, ten hours of sleep just wasn’t going to happen for years to come.  “I’m always going to worry about you getting enough sleep.  Can’t have you falling asleep driving or some shit.”  A quick reminder to him that his safety meant the world to her, and their son.  “So then, aside from my father trying to pay you to break me… is there anything else I need to know before it sneaks up on us and sends us on another roller coaster?”

John "I know." Physically sleeping with her was another luxury that had went during thr process of their pregnancy. They'd gain it again after their process of losing it knowing sleeping with a newborn wasn't all that easy either. Hearing her mention her father, a brow cocking beforr a shake of his head. "Nope, that's it...unless someone paid you." He teased, as his own mother would need to pay her in illegal substance and food stamps considering those were the only things the woman had to barter with.

Spencer Shaking her head slowly, she had been offered nothing to leave the man, more than likely because his own mother couldn’t afford to do so but beyond that, she was more than willing to damage Spencer with her words and her fist.  The entire mess so fucked, leaving a child with only two parents and very little in the makings of an extended family.  “What do we tell Rhys?” she asked, the question weighing heavy on her mind.  Now he had a set of grandparents that hated his father so much as to try to pay him to abandon them and a grandmother who had physically and verbally assaulted his mother who would not be allowed to come within fifty feet of the child.  Regret would only be found in this manner as she opened her eyes to find John’s eyes, knowing she and John would provide a good home for the boy, but hating that they couldn’t provide a family atmosphere as well.  

John "Honestly?" He began, showing he had thought about this. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I don't find it much of a loss on my end...I think I like the idea of being a little more selective on who gets to be a part of his life and considerin' my side is so fucked up. I know he'll have an uncle and aunt that'll love him to bits though and that's enough for me. A cousin on the way." He reminded her, that it might not be all that bad. On this new optimism kick.

Spencer Feeling his kiss to her forehead, she wasn’t sure where she stood on anyone being near him honestly.  A gut instinct she wouldn’t realize at first was actually her first true maternal instinct taking over as she wanted to just lock the child away from everyone but herself and John, keep him from confusion and pain.  Instead of bringing this forth, she would simply nod, relinquishing herself to the idea she couldn’t provide any balance to the chaos.  Closing her eyes once more, a bite to her lower lip as she kept herself silent on the matter.  Shifting her hand there against the waist of his boxers, finding an escape from the conversation as she let her fingertips graze softly against his flesh, knowing it shouldn’t take much to distract the man away from the conversation where he might find her discomfort.  Leaning in that much closer, her lips passing against the curve of his neck.  “If behind door number one there was a bed for you to sleep on and behind door number two was a bed with me in it where no sleep would be had, and you stood before them right this minute, which would you choose?”

John Feeling her hand drifting, his mind was going just as quickly. Glancing down to allow himself the sight of her hand before her lips were at his neck. Willing his head back down. Hearing her question, he shook side to side. "Don't I always choose the second door?" He pointed out honestly, as it was his most walked path and his most comfortable one. Unable to get too cozy knowing she was not as well.

Spencer A hum found her lips as he chose exactly what she would have expected him to.  Slipping her hand back, turning to her back as she stared up at the ceiling as though the question had been for no other reason than just out of curiosity; her smirk giving her away.  “Yeah, me too.”  Playing a little game as she cut her eyes to the side, trying not to get caught as she was stealing that glimpse of the man as she faked a yawn at her lips, only furthering the idea that she might have been just pulling his chain with that question.  Her ultimate goal, to see if she could spark something in the man.

John Feeling her abrupt glance up to the ceiling as he gaze left him as well as her contact. Hearing her yawn, he glanced over. Momentarily confused but it was gone quickly with just one glance at her. She wouldn't get the normal John that would be on top of her by now. She was far too precious as if she really was tired, that was fine to. Giving up his own fake yawn at her in attempt to inspire a real one in a game of yawn pong

Spencer Hearing the yawn he gave up, she quickly turned her head towards him, shock clearly displayed on her face.  “Are you tired??”  The question flew from her lips without hesitation as she sat up on the bed beside him, looking back towards him to prove she wasn’t tired in the slightest.  A pout took over her lips as she set her eyes on him, fighting off a real yawn, attempting to let it ease off to the side without getting caught with it.  “If you’re tired, you can sleep,” she offered through her pout, meaning her words though she hoped he wasn’t actually.

John "No, I'm trying to make you yawn." Revealing his grand scheme as he watched her prop herself up and change her plans, he had to smirk to himself. Meeting that pout as he faked another yawn. Making sure she saw every last moment of it though it was faked and intentional as he kept his eyes locked on her. Turning her own game around on her like usual until he backfired and made himself yawn. "Goddammit..."

Spencer Finding the real yawn there at his lips, she shook her head as she rose from the bed, hand slipping against his thigh as she called his bluff on this.  “Sleep.  I don’t want to keep you up,” she offered, taking those steps towards the doorway to the living space where she’d entertain herself to let the man sleep.  Knowing not too long ago, she could have done something seductive there in that doorway to convince him to wake up, though now, she knew she held no seduction at all.  The fuck me shorts were in retirement.  Taking off her shirt would do no good.  Instead, she would simply smile towards the man as she nodded her head, knowing that last yawn was the real deal.  

John "I'm not going to sleep..." he determined as she got up, already knowing he would not before and he would not know but he'd let her be free to her own devices. Having simply tricked himself into yawning as the brains response to yawning was actual yawning. "Enjoy your trashy reality TV time..." already knowing that this was what she'd be up to, he was onto the woman as he watched her from his reclined position. Reaching out for his phone.

Spencer Hearing him refuse the idea of going to sleep, she shook her head.  “Trashy reality t.v.?  I most certainly…” starting to deny it, she ultimately couldn’t as she knew it was true.  She did enjoy it, more than she was willing to ever admit.  “I offered you sex and you yawned,” she accused, taking no part of the blame on herself for this one, watching as he picked up his phone.  Deciding he’d moved on to something else there, she waited a moment in the doorway, ultimately coming back towards the bed, stealing the phone from his hand, slipping it behind her back.  “Your phone doesn’t deserve your fingers,” she stated, a tilt of her head as she determined she deserved that and a lot more.

John "You yawned first! You were about to stick your hand down my boxers then remembered what was going on in there and you yawned." He alleged, a theory of his own if they were playing this game. Watching as she grabbed his phone and stole it. Mirroring the head tilt at her statement. "Well, I figured I'd need somethin' to help me out with this whole not sleeping task if you were bailing on me." He reminded her, seeing how she felt about that. Hand reaching for hers.

Spencer His accusation was met with a shake of her head.  “Innocent of all charges,” she declared without pause.  “I was playing with you and you damned well know it.”  Her own accusation thrown that she would stick to at all costs.  As he reached for her hand, she took a step back as to keep that phone away from him, refusing to let him have it back.  “You reaching for your phone or your wife?”  She asked, eyes painted in curiosity as she meant to ensure he offered the right answer or his wife and his phone might just be finding their way out of the room entirely.

John "My WIFE." He answered honestly with a quick smirk, leaning up from the bed where his fingers curled over her wrist. Showing he wasn't at the phone at all but her. Keeping his gaze on hers as he gently led her back onto the bed. "Even if you yawned at my dick." Allowing this story to grow, there was no telling what it would be tomorrow. "Just my wife who happens to have my phone which she can put down at any time."

Spencer Feeling his hand to her wrist, instantly a smirk would take her features.  Silver bands of metal flashing through her mind per their previous conversation, though she’d keep that little thought to herself.  As he brought her back to the bed, she laid back at his guiding, the phone still there in her hand.  “I did not!” She demanded, shaking her head emphatically.  She was absolutely not guilty of yawning at his dick, ever.  “I wanted you to make a move on me!” She confessed, a frown taking her lips as her hand went weak, giving up the phone to fall against the bed beside her.  “If I had fuck me shorts, you would’ve jumped on that shit,” she offered, deciding it was nothing to do with her yawn and everything to do with that lacking sex appeal.  “You were gonna look up girls in fuck me shorts, weren’t you?”

John "Yawning is not a way to tell me that you want me to make the moves on you, Spence." He reminded her, feeling her laying back finally as all this was done in jest. Leaning over where he stole a quick kiss from her despite the allegations. "Yes, because 'fuck me shorts' mean 'fuck me.' Not 'let me yawn on your dick.'" He reminded her before her continued question, a shake of his head. "No, I was not. I was going to find non-yawning porn and blare it at top volume until you heard it and came back in to yell at me..."

Spencer The pout on her lips would remain even as he pressed a kiss to her lips.  Her pout would quickly turn to a full frown as the man continued on, first about her yawn, then about him searching for porn.  “John!” She exclaimed, both of her hands finding his face as her eyes found his.  The frown on her face feeling foreign as she was simply not one to frown, yet it was there just the same.  “I would never yawn ON your dick.  And secondly, porn?  You were going to opt to lure me in to yell at you?  You wanted me to yell at you?”  Finding that not to be too far in the future if he kept poking at her in this manner, though knowing it would have her desiring something entirely rougher than was a good idea; tempting for the power of it if no other reason.  Leaning in, her teeth snagged his lower lip, drawing it out as she had done a million times before when she wanted something of the sort, though now it was just a tease that couldn’t be fulfilled.  

John “Spence.” he returned at the outpouring of his name as he felt her against the sides of his face, hearing her giving him his own thoughts back to him in her voice, he had to shrug. They sounded a bit different from her yet he knew they had made sense in his head. A damn good theory. One that he felt still may have potential as he felt her at his bottom lip. Feeling the draw as he smiled softly, hand finding the back of her neck to force her lips to seek his out where he was waiting for her kiss with his own lips pressing firmly to hers.

Spencer Her name seemed to rarely pass his lips, and yet over the course of the middle of the night rendezvous in which neither could sleep, it seemed he had offered it more than he had in the entire span of their marriage.  Not disappointed in such at all as she quite liked it, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d have to do to continue this new pattern into their future.  Feeling his hand to the back of her neck, she was unable to withhold her kiss from him as it was exactly that type of act she desired from him.  To relinquish control entirely.  To let him prompt her in the manner in which he desired.  To feel as though she weren’t nine months pregnant and completely unable to satisfy the man as she once had.  To have her insecurities put to rest and find that reassurance that he still wanted her as much as he once had.  Pressing her lips firmly to his, aided by the strong hand to the back of her neck, she drew her ankle to cross his as they laid side by side on that bed that was not their own.  Her hand finding his upper arm, grasping firmly against his flesh.  Withdrawing was not an option from the hold he had on her, putting her in absolutely her favorite position.  

John Feeling the way she melted into the slightly aggressive action, he was learning quickly. She wanted what she had once gotten. Easy, intuitive, him showing her exactly what he wanted. Granted, it couldn’t quite be the same. He couldn’t just crawl on top of her as he once had yet he could show that the woman was just as attractive to him as she always had been. Even 9 months pregnant. Feeling her ankle cross his and her hand at his arm, he was left with his hand smoothing over the back of her thigh. Leaning his head further over her where his lips were parting. Making way for his tongue to roll over the part of her own lips.

Spencer There would forever be something possessive in his touch, even if he didn’t always mean it to be present.  She could feel it in the way his hand smoothed against the back of her thigh, prompting her to lure her leg up his side.  As his lips parted, she waited, knowing what she would find next, but allowing him to offer fully.  The feeling of his tongue to the part of her lips was met with a soft hum of her lips before she would part them to him, controlling her own tongue from slipping forth, though she craved that taste perhaps more than anything else.  Patience.  It had been learned from day one with him.  If she was patient, he would give her everything she wanted and more.  And so she waited, allowing his tongue to pass through the parting of her own lips where her own would be eagerly awaiting him.  Her hand tensed against his upper arm, a hunger there she could not begin to deny aloud as her body spoke louder than her voice ever could.  

John He drew closer to her, the motion that may have normally rendered her on top of him. Hand sweeping over the side of her neck, thumb grazing her cheek. The feeling of her hand to his arm a good indication of where she was at before he was pulling his head back yet not releasing from her lips. Ready to have her close as he attempted to pull her on top of him. Back hitting the bed as his hand remained tightly clenched at her thigh.

Spencer The subliminal guiding prompted by his kiss, leaving her without the taste she had prepared for, instead, left to chase it.  Feeling him find his back, yet he brought her with him, she would slip over top of him.  Her knees to either side of him, her lips remaining to his.  Patience risked being lost as her own tongue slipped through the part of her lips to find his, teasing at his own for entrance as she took matters into her own hands there.  Shifting her clothed hips against him, stealing that sensation while providing him with the same.  A series of events leading them to a place far better than she could have imagined considering an hour before the woman was in tears.  Now there were no tears, only feeling potentially closer and more bonded to the man than she had before as he chose her when he could have chosen the road presented to him by her father.  It wasn’t lost on her in the slightest for she had always known her heart on things, but now she could see John’s without any doubt to be had.

John Humming low as he felt the shift of her hips, not needing any further statement. Negotiation. He was reacting to her as he always had. Smoothing his tongue over hers or at least attempting to as fingers found the hem of her shirt. Rolling it up between his fingers as rough palms found her sides. Pushing it up as far as he could before he'd require her arms and hands to pull it off. Treating her no different than he would have about 9 months before with the difference of an additional tenderness this experience had gifted him with.

Spencer The lifting of her night shirt, the feeling of his palms, all felt entirely like home to her.  The feel of his tongue to her own almost too good to stop as she was flooded with the taste she desired from the man.  His encouragement for the shirt to be removed would have to wait a moment as she was not entirely through with that taste, nor satisfied enough with that which she had stolen in order to put a pin in it.  Selfishness took her for a moment before she recalled a life left in the past.  Saying she missed how it had been was true, though how easily she had forgotten how it worked.  Drawing back from his kiss, her hands found the lower edge of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head.  Dropping it behind her, allowing gravity to steal it from the edge of the bed to the floor, she sat atop the man she loved, grateful she had been heard previously when she told him she missed this.  Fingertips ghosted against his chest as she let her eyes travel over the man’s flesh, a place she had not given thought to until now.  The name against his chest had always been respected, though now she would meet his eyes with a question at her lips.  “Think you’ll get Rhys added too?”  She asked, not quite sure if he had thought about it, but as the name River stood out to her on his inked skin, she simply asked the question as it made itself known within her mind.

John Watching her pull off his shirt after a debated moment on whether she'd remove it, he smirked softly as he felt her to his chest the same way his fingertips swept down her sides and over her hips. Faded scar tissue under his fingertips as he heard her question. A nod. Having already considered this. "My wrist." He added, having long ago decided that each kid he had would have a place on his body. A place of great importance to his body. His heart, his wrists, his jugular. One day she'd have a place as well even if she didn't know that.

Spencer Hearing him confirm Rhys would be added, she was quite surprised by the placement he had in mind.  Bringing her hand from his chest to find his wrist, her fingertips skirting over the area he mentioned, her eyes attached to that which her fingers passed before she would glance back towards him once more.  His answer had been quick.  He had already contemplated and decided, and yet she was just now thinking about it.  “Why your wrist?” she asked, not in the slightest disappointed by this, yet left to wonder the significance of such.  Her fingertips still passing over his wrist even after the question had been offered, almost wondering if she had shifted the flow of things there between them again as she found herself in an entirely too sentimental state to slip back, and yet knowing it would take but one move from the man and he’d have her back within it once more.

John "Figured since I got River on my heart. I gotta keep getting name tattoos on places that I can't lose. Can't lose your wrists, where your arteries are." He reminded her, it had poetic justice. Not to mention that had always been his plan if he ever had kids. There he was about to have his second and having an all too familiar conversation yet one he had not breathed to another living soul. Feeling her over his wrist before his fingers were linking with hers, palm in palm. "Guess I know better than to ask where you'll be getting yours..."

Spencer As his palm found her own, stealing her fingertips from his wrist, her slender fingers slipped between his.  Sitting over him, a softer smile to the features of a woman who not too long before was a visual hot mess, she curled her fingers down around his hand.  “Where I’ll be getting mine…?”  She asked, not having given it any thought in all honesty.  She’d considered tattooing King and Queen with him, but when that didn’t go, she’d never much thought of marking herself in any other way.  “Where do you think I’m getting mine?” she asked, going on with the idea that she might have already worked that one out, though she had not in the slightest.

John "I don't think you are." The man confessed with a light smirk, dragging her hand to his face. Dragging the back of her fingers gently across his cheek. Lips finding the back of her hand. "I think you're too much or a scaredy cat to do it." He challenged. Willing to be pleasantly surprised. "Especially after you got out of /our/ tattoos by getting pregnant and all..."

Spencer The softness in his actions did not match the accusations rolling off of his tongue.  Not quite sure if he was attempting to keep her softened to him as she had been over the course of the last few minutes or if he intended to incite that fire within her which he seemed to know just how to strike upon.  “Excuse me?  I got out of our tattoos by getting pregnant…?  I do believe I offered them and got no yes or no from a certain someone in this room…”  She offered as a gentle reminder as she shifted her hips against him intentionally.  Regardless of the pajama shorts she wore or the boxers he wore, knowing he would feel that shift as it was far more intentional than the previous.

John "You did. Did it on purpose..." he playfully accused, knowing better. Feeling the shift of her hips to his that drew a low hum for him. Hands slipping down for her pajama bottoms as he leaned up into a seated position. Lips finding her ear. "I'm the innocent one in all this." He teased, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh as he willed her bottoms as far down as he could manage.

Spencer “Riiiight,” she argued, feeling him there at her bottoms as he rose to a seated position before her, working them down to her thighs with only a bit of help by her.  As his teeth found her ear, she tilted her head to the side, falling victim to that touch in ways she wasn’t sure she could ever make him fully understand.  “Mhm,” she offered, her defenses lowered by his words and that nip to her flesh.  “Completely,” she assured, giving in and for once agreeing the man was innocent of all charges; perhaps for the first time in his life.  Bringing her free hand to the side of her shorts, she eased back off of him, though she’d not move her head from there beside his, keeping up that contact even as she stood at the end of the bed, allowing the gravitational force to steal her shorts from her grasp.

John Hearing her agreement, he was quite pleased with the outcome. Pressed lips to the side of her neck, inhaling slowly. Her scent seemed amplified. Coated in pheromones that made the man even more abuzz for her touch. Feeling her working off her own shorts. He'd still do what he was doing whether she agreed or not since they both knew that the pregnancy was inevitable with all considering factors and here they were towards the latter half of it. One of his hands finding the back of her neck, assuring she was held exactly where he wanted her as his lips traveled to the base of her throat. A brief break to allow her to work off her shorts. Inhaling  all the while knowing he had paused abruptly but with the promise of return looming.

Spencer Standing to the end of the bed, her hands releasing the shorts she wore as his hand swept to the back of her neck.  The possession there in his touch as it always was, sending jolts of satisfaction through the woman with nothing more needed than just that feeling of being owned by him.  It was familiar and comfortable to her.  She knew her place and needed that reminder from time to time.  As his lips travelled the column of her throat, her hand found the side of her panties, drawing at them to lower them as well, allowing them to fall to the floor in one motion.  Her chin lifted, giving him ample access to that which he desired as her free hand reached forward for the front of the waistband of his boxers.  A tight grip to her hand, though her hand in his remained soft to the touch.  Conflicting intensities as she pulled at his boxers, attempting to lure him from the bed to free him of the only article of clothing separating them.  Her lip stolen by her own bite, eyes closed to the touch of his lips, feeling his heated breath against her flesh.  Her heart raced within her chest with anticipation of that which was to come, having exposed her desire to him, wanting nothing more than to feel as close to the woman she had once been; a woman whose man wouldn’t dare think of another for he had all he needed right there.  Knowing things had been far more intimate over the course of the pregnancy, she held no doubt every encounter would now hold some degree of it which was of no disappointment to the woman, even if tonight her thirst lied in something else entirely.  A place where he owned her entirely.  A place where words of affection fell in code.  A place where he could show his dominance in a manner over her, then hold her and reward her beyond it.  An experience she had never shared with another, learning it directly from him, finding herself to thrive in such a position, giving him an outlet to be the man so many liked to discredit him in.  Allowing the show of masculinity as she found it more attractive each and every time.  The bite at her lip already indicating he had her in that mindset, even though a moment before she had gone sentimental on him.  The grip at his waistband was rough, rougher than she could have anticipated as she subconsciously sought to draw out that man from his shell, trusting him profusely as she knew he would have Rhys’ safety in mind, yet she could not be trusted to do the same in that moment for that which drove her was simply too strong.

John He felt the rough grip to his boxers, hips lifting as he allowed her to draw him down where she'd find he already hardened dramatically. The topic of what their sex life would look like after this baby would be an interesting one. Part of him thought he'd have no problem returning to their old habits. They both loved them too much and those encounters would he inevitable. Yet, part of him thought those sorts of couplings would become the rarity and the other stuff the norm. He supposed there would be no way to know until he was there. How he'd balance this newly fangled respect he'd bare for her as a mother and reconcile it with their own relationship. For now though, he was comfortable giving her what she wanted all within safe means. His own hands at her recently bare sides as he attempted to lure the woman psychically back into him.

Spencer The moment he found his feet, she stole her hand from his to bring both of her hands to either side of his boxers.  Her chin remained lifted as she now took in the man’s features as she lowered his boxers to a place where they could easily fall.  Feeling his hands there to her sides, she stepped quickly forward to close that gap at the silent suggestion offered by his hands.  Her breath heavy on her lips as her eyes found his, eagerness there burning within them in a manner that had been all but lost over the last few months, only showing itself from time to time, though now it had complete hold over her.  Her body pressed to his as they stood there beside the bed, one of her hands coming up to find his upper arm, her grasp on him tight, letting go of the softer side of things entirely.  Her other hand boldly finding his hardened cock there between them, protruding against her stomach as her hand wrapped firmly around him.  Taking liberties until he took control from her, determined to incite it with every move she made.  Her eyes never faltering as her hand shifted up his length, dragging her lower lip through her teeth.  In that moment, she didn’t feel pregnant.  In that moment, she was the same tiny cop standing before him that she had been a million times before.  Her desire for him radiated off of her, thickening the air surrounding them as that tension built.  Appearing to be a power struggle, though there would be no struggle at all.  She was well aware of how far she could go, even if she often went right up to the line, toes against the forbidden territory, glaring the bull in the eyes.  Tempting him to take it from her, determination lacing her every move.  “If tonight was your last night…” she began, a throwback to another time when she offered him absolutely anything he wanted, bringing it back in that moment as she leaned into him, her lips pressing against his chest as her eyes lifted upwards to take in the landscape of his facial features from below.  “If tonight was your last night, how would you want to spend it?”  Her question did not pause the stroke of her hand against him, nor the pass of her lips against his chest, showing her willingness there in her words as she offered him the control on a silver platter; all he had to do was take it if he so desired.  

John Stepping out of his boxers, he met her eyes. Reading the tension well underneath of those conflicted green hues. Her pull onto him greeted with his hands smoothing over the small of her back and over her ass. Welcoming her in closer to him, feeling her hand seek out his shaft. Giving up a low, pleasurable growl. Eyes on hers. Free hand to the side of her face as his thumb outlined her bottom lip. Eyes watching that smooth motion over her bottom tier before she was at his chest. Hearing her question, a familiar one. Yet, hearing it return was equally pleasurable as the first time if not more so. "Buried deep inside of you." The man confessed, hands firm at her ass as he backed her to the edge of the bed. Working to guide her back ontop of it where the perch between her thighs was seeming more and more tempting with each passing moment as he sought to taste that which was his.

Spencer As his fingertip had passed over her lower tier, it was a feeling that would not leave her as she pressed her lips to his chest.  Feeling the grip his hands took to her ass, she backed to the edge of the bed at his guiding.  One slow step back at a time, not for the sake of safety by any means, but allowing that tension to reach heights they had not seen in some time.  A hum found her lips as his confession spilled forth, instantly drawing a hint of moisture between her thighs at the mere suggestion.  An act she could not do on her own, only drawn forth by him and his words, his hands at her body, his voice.  A sigh found her lips, falling against his chest as she slowly lifted her chin, her eyes to find his as her hand continued to stroke at his cock, hand tightening as she bit her lower lip.  Nodding her head softly, she felt the bed to the back of her thighs.  Lowering herself to sit there at the edge as he stood before her, her eyes shifting down to view her own hand as she surpassed his length time and time again.  Entranced by the motion as it replicated that which he suggested.  Bringing her lips to the head of his cock, taking it within her mouth but one time before she withdrew entirely.  Freeing her hand of him as she pressed her palms against the bed, moving herself back from the edge as her eyes found his once more.

John As she sat, he was fully prepared to lean over and flip her legs over his shoulders. To show her how exactly he'd spend his last night on earth as there was no greater pleasure for the man. Yet, as she sat down, he felt her mouth around his cock. Replacing her hand all too briefly. A low groan leaving him. The touch entirely too brief now that he had gotten in. Leaving him something to thirst for. Starting the deep rooted fire in his gut. Meeting her eyes as she looked at him as if she did not know what she had done. Shaking his head as if to suggest that now she was in for it as he remained standing. Leaning over where his chest met the bed and gliding her legs over his shoulders swiftly as intended.

Spencer The look in his eyes had been the one she had been looking for previously.  Though this time, her taste of him had not been to draw it forth, finding great irony in the fact it was not meant to and yet had.  As he remained there at the end of the bed as she made that first move to slip further onto the bed to allow him to join her, she felt his hands there to her legs, drawing them up and over his shoulders.  Instantly there was a tension in her stomach, feeling herself clench as he took all control from her.  The sudden maneuver had her stunned, showing her first-hand how much she had missed this husband of hers.  She loved the softer side of him, knowing she was the only one to see it, but to know he could both love her and fuck her at the same time was something she would hold in great value.  Feeling owned by him was like nothing she had ever known before, thus taking something that perhaps should not have held this much weight with her and escalating it to perhaps one of the highest forms of closeness the two could share.  It was based purely in trust above all else.  Trust he had earned from her in showing her he would bring her to the very brink, yet never let her fall.  Laying back flat against the bed, her legs bent over his shoulders, she drew in a full breath, anticipating his touch.  The seconds in between may have been short, but there was something there that would make it feel like an eternity as she craved this as much as he did.

John She had always been his. John had no doubt of it. Being his now meant she surrendered her past. Left it behind her. Understood not to discuss it or talk about it. It meant she'd be his forever. Despite any words to offer the opposite. It was a pact written in blood. He wasn't going anywhere. As such, he'd claim what was his in this fashion. Thirsty for her taste. She had now ignited the fire that threw caution to the wind. Tongue parting his lips as he drove over her heated anatomy. The thick muscle fasting on what he had drawn from her already yet knowing it was nothing in comparison to what was to come. Trailing up to her clit where his lips were tenderly nursing those nerve endings for the warmth of overwhelming pleasure.

Spencer In that first sweep of his tongue, her breath was stolen from her.  A warmth preceding his tongue on contact, surging through her body.  Feeling his passage set in on her clit, she drew up on bent arm to view this for herself as she so often did, only to find she was visually impaired by the child within her.  Without that view, she instead lowered back, closing her eyes, knowing what it looked like from a million other stolen glances.  Imagining the top of his head there between her thighs as she felt the repercussions of such, she drew her lower lip between her teeth.  One hand slipping down to find the back of his head, an encouraging touch there as she lacked the ability to find his eyes.  Drawing in breath once more, her body temperature rising a little higher with each passing second as he knew just how to make his wife fall apart in front of him in the best of ways.  During her pregnancy, everything had heightened effects.  Her emotion, her sex drive, her stimulation.  This would be no different as she drew a fist full of his hair within her grasp.  Her hand losing that encouraging demeanor it held a moment before, instead fueling the fire she had seen within the man’s eyes a moment before.  That first whine passing her lips with the promise of many more to come as they were his entirely.

John No longer able to watch her feeling him and have that contact, it filled him with the need to make her reactionary in different ways. To tell him what he needed to know as his hands swept up her sides. Humming low, introducing those vibrations to her with each pressurized and paced sweep of his thick muscle. One hand sweeping down where his middle finger was tracing around her entrance. Gathering her fluid against the tip of that digit before he was sliding within and feeling the warmth of her as he submerged his finger. Tongue steadily sweeping at her, working with his hand as his other moved over her side.

Spencer As his hand passed up her side, her own free hand was there to link her fingers through his.  Grasping onto his hand as she felt him sliding a single finger within her.  The combination of his hum at her clit with the internal stimulation of his finger within had her instantly pressing her feet against his upper back, lifting her lower body slightly upwards.  There was no denying he knew the right combination to unlock her, forcing her to get vocal even without a request for it.  What had begun a soft whine at her lips continued as such, yet unrestrained.  The sound of her breaths took the space as they were ragged and irregular, interrupted by a gasp, then a whine.  There were few times in life she felt as though she didn’t hold any control over herself and this was one of them.  She could not withhold for even a moment as everything he drew from her was of his own doing.  “Fuck,” the only word that could actually be made out as it passed her lips in a sea of other single sounded attempts.  The rising sensation throughout her was the sweetest drug, leaving her craving eternal suspension in this space somewhere between pure heaven and pure hell, at the will of his actions as to just how long she would be held in this state before the assured release.

John He'd need a strong response from her. Vocal explanation. Nothing else would settle yet he knew it was never too hard to get it out of this woman of his. Feeling her altered angle opening her up to him entirely. Hearing her breath and reactions as he guided his lengthy digit deep within her, rotating out with the addition of his second digit. Giving her a little more like what she was used to. Finding himself building his pace as both mouth and hand worked in this accompanying arrangement

Spencer Relentless.  The man was relentless when he was in his element and this time would prove to be no different.  It had been quite a while since she felt him this determined.  Even under the haze of the pending release she could recognize it.  He was after that release, and yet she couldn’t help but feel as though he were after something more.  Pushing her harder, giving her all he had, his hunger seemingly unmet for some time.  “Joh-…” his name intertwining in an exhale from the woman.  Feeling herself there on that edge, suspended there by his own hand.  Her bare feet to the edge of a cliff, teetering on the ledge where she could be drawn back from it in one sharp motion or she could be pushed over entirely with the most simplistic of actions.  Never before had she felt inclined to ask such a thing, but the words burned at her tongue.  “May I?”  He had never demanded her ask them, thus when they came forth from her, his surprise would surely be surpassed by her own.  Vulnerability and desperation gripped tight to her question as she could feel the sway back and forth, how easily she could release or be refused that release and held in this heightened place indefinitely.  Both of her hands tightening; one in his hair, one in his hand.  Threatening to coat his digit with the sweet nectar she knew he craved, yet giving up all power to him as her request for release was posed.

John Hearing her ask, the man smirked softly. The sweep of pleasure and pride making his cock throb. The control. The fact that she was asking him permission for what he was pushing her towards. He liked the sound of that. Maybe a bit too much for his own good. A hesitant moment before answering. "You may." Lips drifting from her briefly, he was right back to it. Intensifying in sweeps of his tongue and rotation speed of his digits.

Spencer Those seconds of silence between her question and his response were pure torture to the woman.  Knowing she had to hold, unwilling to ask the question and then steal the power away she had given him in it by nullifying it entirely; she held on.  Her thighs to his shoulders trembling as she held that release.  As his permission was given to her, she released a held breath, feeling him return to the very actions that led her to this place, holding out just that much longer.  Allowing it to be his actions to bring her there entirely.  The room felt as though it were spinning as she finally gave into that feeling that had washed over her.  Clenching walls held tight to his fingers within her, pulsating against him until that which she asked permission for came forth.  The warmth washed through her as it coated his fingers, in perfect time with the whine at her lips.  Turning her head to the side as her lower body rocked upwards against him throughout the release.

John Feeling her wash, he was left with his free hand struggling to not pull from her. To relieve the throbbing in himself. To provide some balm to how intensely hard she made him. Assuring she was cumming hard and heavy for him as his mouth turned to a hum against her. Finishing strong as he drove through and against her. The taste of her warm and coating his tongue with the taste he ached for when he could not achieve it. Left to rely solely upon her body language to see where she was and seeing nothing but red hot satisfaction.

Spencer Her grip to him remained as tight as it had been as he hummed against her, driving forth a second wave as he held her in this release several moments longer than customary.  The sound at her lips intensified, only to tone downwards as she had given him all she had within her, though it would take her a moment to trust there would not be a third.  Slowly, she loosened her grip on both his hand and in his hair, easing her hands from him.  One hand sweeping up to brush the hair from her own face, the other resting against the bed beside her.  Several long deep breaths passed her lips in those moments beyond, making no attempt at taking her legs down from his shoulders.  She had given him complete and utter control here, which she would not be rescinding.  Gratitude laced her lips as she followed her request for release with a soft ‘thank you’ as he had done right by her by not making her hold there for him for very long.  It would take but a couple moments before her hand was in search of the side of his face.  A soft touch of her fingertips as her voice broke the sound of her breathing once more.  “Kiss me,” she requested softly.

John As she drew her legs down from his shoulders, fingers withdrawing from her as he was left with the taste of her over his lips. Collecting her in any capacity he could as he was pulling up to her side. Angling his face into her reach for it. His own hand finding the side of hers, breathlessly guiding his lips to hers at her willing as he still fought that urge of his free hand that trailed over the side of her thigh and down to her knee. Inhaling deeply as if to make sense of the lust she provided.

Spencer As he came to the side of her, his lips finding her own waiting for his.  With one hand there to the side of her face, the other against her thigh, it was in this moment she would truly feel as though she were the center of his universe.  Bringing her to not a single release, but a compounded orgasm, everything about her felt light there beside him.  With no thoughts of anything from the hour before, completely at peace with that which she shared with this man, regardless of what opposition existed within her own bloodline.  Her lips passed against his more softly than perhaps they should have, not matching at all what she had instigated there, but it was honest.  Under the influence of both the release and the pregnancy, her emotions were all over the place.  In prior moments such as these, there would be a hunger against her lips and perhaps there would be again, but for just that moment, she was lost in a kiss with the man she loved.  Her hand found the side of his neck as she turned to her own side, drawing one leg over his.  Breaking her kiss free of his only long enough to whisper against his lips.  “I want you.”  Words that had passed her lips a million times before, yet always held with them the same desperation and connotation.  Her lips pressed more firmly to his for a brief moment before her mind was flashing to the manner in which she had asked for that release, a smile gracing her lips mid-kiss.  “May I have you?  All of you?”  Respect laced her words there as she made it known they both had a choice there.  Carrying forth a tone she had set forth, albeit unfamiliar.  Finally returning to the headspace she had entered with him there when that fire was lit within him, her free hand slipping between them, somehow sensing the throbbing he was feeling within his own shaft.  Not taking possession of him, instead, simply dragging her finger softly down the side, teasing at his sensitivity much in the same manner she had not too long before when a simple pass of her lips over him had fueled his inner fire.

John Feeling her drawing her leg over him just as he had been ready to force, she beat him to it. Reading his mind as they both worked in sync to accomplish that final task. To bring them in together. The man was locked into her for the long haul. Even in that encounter. The highs, the lows. The need for intimacy or the opposite, he could hang with the punches and return each one jab for jab. Hand sweeping further over that thrown leg. Feeling her pulling back from his lips. His eyes were meeting hers. A nod. Yet, before he could give her a formal answer, she had sought him out. Stealing his words and grasp on the English language. So unbearably hard for her. "Yes." He returned hotly, letting her do the honors hopefully sooner before later.

Spencer Feeling his hand drawing her leg around him, her hips were aligned for him as her fingertip ghosted against his length, awaiting that permission in ways she herself couldn’t understand.  She didn’t know where they were coming from, and yet they seemed to form almost naturally at her lips.  Quite unsure if his short answers meant he was pleased with this progression or if he was just taken by surprise as she was, she found his answer there in his eyes before he even breathed the word forth.  Her formerly light touch against him turned sudden, grasping him at his base as she gave a full, powerful stroke up his length, bringing his head to her entrance, though not pushing against him at first.  Allowing the remnants of her release to coat his tip, the warmth still there as her body kept it so.  Her own lips still there at his own, her hand shifted from the side of his neck to the back, drawing her lips firmly to his own in sync as she brought the head of his cock to her entrance once more.  Shifting her hips forward as she brought her leg to fully wrap around him, taking not only that first inch within, but several before her own position could not withstand any further penetration, needing him to take the reins.  A sharp inhale at his lips was directly followed by a cry rendering the kiss broken as her head fell to the bed below.  Leaning in to find refuge there at the curve of his neck, her teeth grazing his flesh as heated breaths laced with pleasurable whines fell against his skin.

John “Mmm…” humming low, seemingly in agreement at the feel of her as he felt her hips do all that they could. His own movement forward taking over as he saw to it that the rest of his shaft glided smoothly within her. Parting those slick walls previously tended to. He had assured that as she stole his breath. Feeling her at his neck as his hand pressed further up her thigh. Keeping her hooked there, assuring he felt the resistance down to his very marrow and the warmth of pleasure he could find solely in his wife’s keeping. Seeing himself entirely within her as he stilled. Taking in that moment for the both of them as he probably needed it just as much as she did.

Spencer Her teeth there at his shoulder, ever threatening to inflict that which she felt within, yet she withheld from doing so as his shift forward ended.  Feeling her hips now pressed to his own, the depths within he filled with himself, she honored that moment he took there for the both of them.  Slow, deep breaths passed her lips as she pressed a kiss to the curve of his neck.  Never quite herself in those initial moments, losing the ability to be strong for the faintest of moments, unable to guard herself in any way.  A shift of her chin and her teeth found the lower curve of his ear, a soft bite to him as his wife started to come around, adjusting to him within her, her intentions made known once more in this silent act as her grip tightened at his ear.  Withholding nothing as she sought to awaken the man’s hips, desiring that look he had given her not too long before just before he had drawn her legs over his shoulders.  “You wanted to be buried within me, and now you are… so tell me, now what do you want?”  Seduction laced her words as she returned to the strength she customarily seemed to hold, ever in tune to making sure the man was completely satisfied in this manner.  She could lose him for a million other reasons, but never would she permit it to be said he was not satisfied in this arena.

John And the man would never not be satisfied here. Like he had mentioned earlier, he didn’t require this as the only way to feel close to her anymore. A rare and terrifying feeling as he’d always fear it all falling out from under him. The intimacy they had achieved was beyond the bounds of what he could ever understand or what he had ever experienced. Feeling her adjusting around him, he heard her words before he pressed his forehead to hers. A heated and slow breath as he pushed his hips forward further against her. Knowing he had nothing left to offer her before his hips rolled in a circular motion against hers. Knowing exactly what he was doing. “I wanna’ see how many times I can make you cum.”

Spencer With his forehead pressed there to her own, his words fell against her lips in close proximity.  The very sound of them was met with a sharp draw of her breath, never knowing if the man fully knew what he could do to her with so few words spoken.  Feeling that shift of his hips, she drew her lower lip between her own teeth, eyes set on his as she offered a slight nod of her head.  Giving him full permission to test this theory, though setting herself up for both the most incredible and yet tortuous experience as it meant she’d be brought to that edge time and time again, pushed over only to be reeled back in to go through it again and again.  “You have two under your belt thus far,” she confessed, as the first release had been quickly followed by a second, already giving him a head start to his goal there.  Though only one had been asked for, the second had sprung upon her too quickly to even realize it.  Stealing his lips with her own for a brief exchange before she’d draw back once more, venturing into an open communication of sorts.  “Do you like it when I ask you?”  Her nerves were present in that question as it had never been something she’d considered doing in the past, and yet somehow it felt entirely natural to ask him in this venue.  

John Hearing her asking, his hand smoother up over her ass. A firm grip as he rocked against her a bit firmer. He smirked softly. Detecting her nerves though there was no reason for it. Determined that every encounter from here until her labor would be an encounter to remember. Never knowing if this would be the last time before she gave birth and they were kept from it for a few months. "I love it..." he confessed, knowing it would be something he may require going forward as he enjoyed it a little too much.

Spencer Feeling his hand taking a firm grip against her ass, feeling as though there was no hesitation on the man’s part as he drove within her, drawing out the whine he should be all too familiar with by now.  His confession was met with a hum of her lips, using his response to that question to gauge the way she would be with him at least for the rest of this encounter.  Should he want it beyond that, it would need to be established at another time, for right now all she was focused on was him and making sure his every need was being stroked and met in surplus.  Tightening her leg around him, her body meeting his as the two laid against their sides, accomplishing a position she couldn’t recall from ever before, having gotten creative with their present situation.  “Me too,” she offered a few seconds later, an honesty there as she spoke.  “I like this too,” she whispered, her fingertip finding the edge of his smirk, slipping to the side if only so she could press her lips against the corner.  Though a smirk was not a smile, it was an insight into the man just the same.  Her kiss eased from the corner of his mouth to find the side of his neck where she would take her liberties until stopped.  Her lips formed against the curve of his neck, drawing herself into him entirely as she sucked against him for a long moment before drawing forth her teeth to press against his skin, threatening him silently, though this time she would make good on her threat.  Sinking her teeth against his flesh, just as relentlessly as she had done in one of their first encounters, before she would draw back to press her lips in that very place again.

John His hesitation was gone as was all shyness, as if he ever had any to begin with. Though many would mistake his stoic nature with shyness, it was nothing of the sort as she could atest for. Feeling her leg tighten around him. Not quite sure what she was mentioning liking before he felt her lips to the corner of his. It was hard not to smirk when he was buried within her. He was pretty sure she could get just about anything out of him in that moment yet he wouldn’t confess that knowing she’d be quick to use it against him. Feeling her against his neck as he was tempted to tell her that she wouldn’t mark him. That she wasn’t brave enough. Until he felt her doing just that causing him to lose the patience in his hip grind and allow those same hips to withdraw before pushing forward. Creating a smooth friction in his glide as he forced his way through tight walls. Feeling her return to the spot of the crime and supposing it was only fair as she wore signs of his possession in her pregnancy and he’d escape this with a bruise or two.

Spencer A place where once her scratches were worn for days against his back, his shoulder nearly always sporting one or another of her markings, it had been quite some time since she had laid such a claim to the man, yet something in the atmosphere of their union had her feeling it entirely.  As he drew back, she was already anticipating that plunge back within, causing her to halt her efforts momentarily as she braced for it.  Intentionally tightening those walls, fully set giving him the best experience there possible.  As he shifted within her once more, her teeth found his shoulder again.  This time relentless in her bite as she made no effort to shield him from pain.  Wanting to send exactly that radiating through him as her hand found his upper arm, nails there at his flesh as she threatened him again.  Doing so repeatedly, as she would until he deemed otherwise.  Pushing boundaries at every turn just as she always did as his punishments were just too good to miss out on.  A groan fell against his shoulder as she refused to release that bite on him, furthering the mark already well developing beneath her mouth.

John The woman knew what the pain did to him. Jar him. Make him forget the task at hand and what he was out to accomplish. Feeling the burn of her teeth drawing a hitched breath out of him. Hand lifting at her ass only to abruptly laid, assuring she felt it in her blood and the bruise that would surely follow as his hips lifted once again. Building his pace as his free hand found her back. The teasing kiss of her nails at his skin only making him want it more. A fiend for that pain and the surge it sent through him. He was no stranger to it. It made him feel alive. Untouchable. Just as she did in these moments where the rest of the world melted away.

Spencer The heavy hand against her ass would prompt a scream from her lips, severing that bond she had forged at the curve of his neck.  Instantly, her nails found his flesh, digging deep against him before she’d start that familiar path downward that normally scarred his back.  “God, I’ve missed this,” she confessed through heavy breath before snagging his lower lip between her teeth.  Unable to hold herself back in any form as she truly was taking any and all liberties against him.  Slipping her leg back from around him, constantly attempting to incite something more from the man, using what power she had to force his own hand.  Threatening to withdraw from him entirely as a devious light shone through her eyes.  Tugging his lower tier back, though her bite was unaltered, intent to draw blood if necessary to get the full wrath of the man channeled into this space between them.

John Feeling her nails finally seek him out, she'd hear the low growl summoned from the depth of his chest. Yet, her leg slipping back drew his hand back down at her leg. Refusing to let it go down like that as her actions crossed her words as he forced her leg back over him. Retaining that position as he forced his hips harder against her. Feeling her at his lower lip and that attempt to force him into what was already happening. His free hand gripped at her side as perspiration pierced his skin as the woman rose his body temperature.

Spencer The sting of his hand at her upper thigh resulted in her bite at his lip being released, unable to sustain it as the weight of his hand fell against her.  Pleasure radiated through hazel eyes as she felt his hand drawing her leg forcefully around him once more, leaving no room for discussion on how he wanted her.  “And here I was going to offer another position,” she whispered as though it might’ve been true, though that look in her eyes would give her away entirely.  Though in the weaker position there, she would take that bit of control to shift her own hips against his, creating that struggle as she was not quite satisfied with the show of dominance he held over her yet.  She had seen it be stronger in the past and was definitely attempting to outdo even the best of their encounters.  Stealing a quick nip at his lower lip, defiance flashing through her as she tempted fate there.  Her lips parting for yet another cocky phrase, though instead there would be nothing but a whine with each drive forward between them.  Finding herself to lose her ground in a game of her own design, feeling her entire body tensing there before him, having been so into tempting him, she couldn’t even feel that release rising within her.  Now, after playing this game, she was forced to recall a question that would then transition all power back to him in a single instant.  “John… may I?”  The realization of her present position had anticipation flashing through her as he now held the ability to give her pleasure or pain.

John He knew she was teasing him. Taunting him. Knowing he could only go so far in her current state in the way of overpowering and dominating her which would take a bit more creativity than normal. Hearing her mention a position change, the look in his eyes was a telling one. Not believing her for a second. Hearing her ask permission, it was the right way to appeal to his senses as he nodded. "Go ahead." He allowed, still making the most of this as he grinded his hips forward. Hand detecting the heat that his smack had forced.

Spencer A look of pure shock flashed through her eyes as he granted that permission, almost entirely sure it would be declined.  The moment the words left his lips, her own were there pressing firmly to his as he shifted his hips forward against her, taking that grinding motion he knew so well would bring her to her end.  An end that she knew from his previous statement was only the beginning.  The tenderness beneath his hand was a stinging reminder of what she could draw from him, actions that would have her on the edge, ready to cum for him nearly every time.  Her hand found the back of his neck, trading the bite of her nails on his upper arm for this space just below his hairline as she drew him deeper into that kiss even as her walls began drawing tightly around him.  The pulsing within only to release against him as her leg drew tighter around him.  Finally unable to sustain the kiss, her head was leaning back as her lips parted, falling into the depth of that release just inches from his face as a melody of whines passed her lips.  His name there, desperate whispers as his motion within her was unceasing as ever.  Giving way for the third time that night to that which he drew from her.  This time resolving her to the fact that from here on out, she would push him no further, knowing she had done more than enough in that aspect to hand it all over to him from this point forward.

John As her head fell back, his lips were to her throat. Tasting her moans, feeling the vibrations to his lips as he heard her in a way that would be, what he could imagine, harmonious. Hearing a name he had never much liked from her lips, feeling her cumming once more from him as he worked for it. Stronger rotations of his hips, thrusting forward. Loving what he could achieve in her. Be it more successfully or just the fact that he had never been so driven for another's pleasure, his lips were trailing down her chest. Seeking out that rapid heartbeat.

Spencer Relentless as ever, she felt his lips to her throat, a place that would forever intensify any release she was within.  Feeling more connected through this touch than perhaps any other.  As his lips trailed down, her hand slipped from the back of his neck, no longer able to inflict her nails on him when his lips were so soft to her skin.  Coming through to the other side of that release, feeling how easily he could drive into her now with that added warmth coating him, her own body now hypersensitive to each thrust he brought forth against her.  A hum found her lips as she allowed her head to rest there to the bed, lying on her side before him.  Fingertips easing to the back of his head, softer fingers through short strands where previously she had gripped firmly.  “You are my life,” she promised.  Words that perhaps were out of place there given the atmosphere build between them, but honest as her own name, potentially hormonally driven.  He was her life, every bit of it.  A formerly strong woman was brought to complete dependence on this man and not one bit ashamed to admit it.  For her, it was as though he was the very breath she breathed, the blood in her veins.  Without him, none of it would have been worth it.  But with him, she felt as though the world was theirs for the taking.  Completely in love with him in ways she couldn’t fully communicate, and yet small offerings such as this would be made along the way to try to tell him, even when they were slipping forth in inappropriate places.

John He knew she was his life and it wasn't a fact he took lightly. She had risked everything. Her job, her dependence, her finances and her family. Burning bridges on her way to him and for that, she'd always have the man operating at his absolute best to rebuild that which had been lost. His love might not be a glimmering public spectacle, but it came out when needed. Finding her lips, he gave up a low hum. "Tell me more." He requested, a firm kiss of her lips as he was ready for her to tell him those three words and for a position change.

Spencer As his lips met her own, her hand was there to the side of his face as his request sat in on her.  Feeling his lips part from her own, she drew a breath, meeting his eyes as her fingertips passed softly to his cheek.  “You want more?”  She asked, not following that which he wanted to hear from her instantly, confusing his request with wanting more insight instead.  “I could tell you about how empty my life was before you.  How I didn’t have a soul, going through the motions because they were expected of me.  I didn’t have that thing that made me feel strongly.  I could tell you how in all of my life, I never anticipated feeling this way about someone.  Where you literally think you would die without the other person.  I could tell you how I will spend the rest of my life if only to show you what happiness is because it’s that important to me that I give you what you give me.  Or I could just tell you that I love you and let that cover all of that and then some…”  Finally getting there, though she genuinely could have gone on for hours about how she felt about the man, she went with the shorter version.  If he wanted more, it was but a question away.  

John Her insight was something he didn't mind hearing. Uplifting. Assuring. Reminding him of everything he needed to know to go forward in a world that seemed to despise them together. He got what he really wanted at her declaration of love. Arms slipping around her as he slipped onto his back. Allowing her ontop. A hand reaching up to cradle her face. Those four walls protecting his sentiment. "I love you to." The man confessed, loving her in a way that he thought was lost on him.

Spencer As his arms came around her, she felt him shifting there to his back, to which she easily went with him, without allowing him to slip from within her.  Feeling his hand there to the side of her face, her eyes fell closed as she leaned slightly into the palm of his hand; fitting considering all she had just said.  As her eyes lifted once more, she caught his own hues just in time for that sentiment to pass his lips.  Words she would never take for granted from the man as she knew how much they meant, perhaps more so than even her own could hold.  Feeling the need to respond to it, to stay blatantly she loved him, and yet she already had.  “I love you.”  She repeated, only left to pray it wasn’t awkward, but if nothing else it was honest.  Certain all the times he hadn’t heard it in his life, hearing it twice back to back couldn’t hurt the man.  Bringing her hand up to rest over his there at her face, she slightly shifted against him, finding a slow grind in her hips as to not lose the momentum he designed.

John She was dealing with a man not used to being loved. Not feeling lovable. Loving those who claimed they could never love him in return do to various reasons. Exhaling slow, he met her eyes at her reminder. As if willing him to believe her. Feeling her seek out his lips. Pressed to hers as his free hand found her side. Feeling those rotations both within his hand and deep within her. Those warm and tender walls awash with her nectar. Thoroughly soaking him through and through.

Spencer A fleeting kiss, as it could not be sustained in that position without risking interruption from a little one within, she’d steal that moment before she was lifting to a fully seated position over him.  A position she had come to know well over the last few weeks, as it was truly just the most comfortable for the both of them, though she couldn’t wait until the day she could feel him over top of her once more.  A slow circular path of her hips to his, quite unsure if she should have let those last words pass her lips again, abusing the freedom they had there in the privacy of their room.  Slipping her hand down from his there at the side of her face as she pressed her hand against his abdomen as she shifted against him.  Nothing but love radiating through her eyes in a place that previously held pure lust for the man.  Clearly on an up and down ride before him as she couldn’t stick to one mindset or the other, both having so much within that she somehow wanted them both all at the same time.  A deep breath at her lips causing a sharp pain to her ribs, though she’d mask it as best she could.  Their previous position seeming to apply pressure to her other side, allowing that bit of relief there not afforded by their present, and yet it was without complaint from the woman as she slipped her free hand into his.  Lacing her fingers through his, allowing herself the ability to shift back into another place should he so desire it.  “You want me like this or you want me to fuck you?”  She asked, clearly leaving it up to him entirely as she could not be trusted to make this decision, teetering somewhere between the two with her newfound control over the situation.  Even with him on his back beneath her, giving him the power to will her how he wished.

John "Fuck me." He answered without hesitation, still the same man he always was desiring the best of what she got. Pacing himself might be the best idea but not his favorite one. No, he loved her ontop and taking control. Doing what she did best. Making him look clumsy in comparison. Never one to like being on his back and out of power, he had learned just how rewarding it was when he trusted the woman ontop of him.

Spencer His words alone would cause those inner walls to tighten around him at the promise of that which his words held.  Her hand in his clenched tightly as she brought his hand to his own stomach, resting their joined hands there as she trusted him to tense that arm.  Giving her something to pull against as she offered a slow nod of her head.  Loving their intimacy and yet loving the other side of it as well, she now knew he was still every bit the same man he was before her pregnancy, before love, before intimacy.  With no build to her at all, she tightened her upper arm, drawing against the strength of his own arm to drive her hips forward as she shifted against him.  Not giving a moment of pause, she shifted her hips back just as suddenly, her own lips parting as this action created such friction within her, feeling his depth stimulating her in each pass as she drew her hips forward again using that pull at his hand.  

John Feeling that clench somehow, someway, he had to smirk softly. “Felt that.” the man added, completely in tune with her in more ways than he would ever understand. Feeling her shift, actually meaning to cause movement tat time around as he glanced up towards her. Still finding her as hot as ever despite the obvious before he was slightly leaning up on his elbows. Treating himself as both hands found her hips. Feeling the smooth rotation she offered these. Driving a full bite of his bottom lip.

Spencer As his hands took her hips, she couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted a bit of that control back, not that she was complaining in the slightest.  The bite to his lower lip brought forth a smirk at her own, loving the very sight of the man in exactly this position.  Her emotions ranging from completely in love and completely turned on, balancing nowhere and everywhere in between all in the same breath.  “You felt nothing,” she argued, though she couldn’t be quite sure what it was he was speaking to.  Only left to wonder, blissfully unaware of just how her walls had tightened upon the phrase he had previously offered, and truthfully would every time such a thing was said.  Releasing his hand she previously pulled against, opting now for the back of his neck as her source of drive.  Fingernails finding flesh as she reintroduced that which she knew enticed the man to no end as each strong shift of her hips forward was now aided in how deeply she could embed her nails within his flesh.

John “I did.” he answered as she argued, as he wouldn’t have been able to know that clench had happened upon his words if he did not feel it. Feeling her at the back of his neck, the position not quite sustainable unless a pillow was introduced to the back of his neck but enjoying it for the meantime. The blissful embedding of her nails to his skin. Encouraging it as he inhaled deeply. Knowing she’d feel each and every sharp inhale she caused him. His reactions evident and unable to be masked through his entire body.

Spencer The simple cut of her eyes would argue the man as she glared upon him, threatening that he did not know what he was talking about, yet it was suddenly dawning on her that which he had felt.  The hint of a smirk at her lips would give her away as as found that hitch in his breath.  The best place in the world to be as she sat on top of him, nails digging against his neck, eyeing the strongest man in the world fall weak to her.  There was something beyond empowering about it, even if she couldn’t see what it was that he saw there.  Her hips finding a quick pace as she rode against him, that all too familiar rise within her, flashing through her eyes upon the realization of that which was upon her.  Keeping her lips tight, she’d make no mention of it, letting it get to the last second where her thighs tensed, her nails dug deeper, her lips parted in an effort to draw air.  Still not posing that question to him as she let him see with his own eyes what that edge felt like to her.  Holding onto it, gripping it will all of her might, determined not to release until he had told her she could, though without the words posed, purposefully holding herself in this place of pure hell with the promise of ecstasy to come.

John The hot burn of her nails embedded into his skin always had the same response. She had to expect it. Yet, that smirk on her lips told him that she had figured out what all he had felt. so in tune to her that he had figured it out for himself and now she was realizing that connection. Just how strong it was. Feeling the tension in her thighs against his sides. A slight sheen of perspiration across his skin that she had drawn forcibly out of him. Knowing he could not withstand another storm without feeling it with her. She felt entirely too good to withstand and he wanted her entirely to himself in that moment. His own release thundering in his ears as he subtly encouraged the roughness of her pace to get them back to that promise land together.

Spencer “John,” she whispered, her tone evident to that which was on display visually before him.  Drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she attempted to hold out longer.  Her eyes fell shut as she dug her nails down his neck, tearing at his flesh as it gathered beneath her nails.  A visceral cry falling from her lips as the words exploded into existence as though they had never before.  “May i?”  There was no calm respect to them as there had been before.  Instead, they were laced with sheer necessity as her walls began to tremble within, her thighs shaking as no part of her could stop this release even if denied.  She had waited too long, held out too far.  Desperation filled her hues as she felt the warmth of his blood slipping beneath her fingertips.  The last release right there, so thick she could nearly taste it on her tongue, needing that approval all the while knowing even without it, she would be coming apart for him within moments.

John Feeling her against his neck, the burn drove a growl out of him. It was good. Too good. He could never hope to hold out with her doing that as it was the sure fire way to bring him to his knees amongst many other tricks she had learned in their time together. Though he had never blatantly showed her these things, she had discovered them well enough on her own. Hands slipping down to her thighs where he felt the quiver there within the muscle, hearing her question. Holding out. Not giving her permission until he was there right along side of her and just as he felt it there under his skin, he answered. “Cum for me.” less of an answer and more of a demand as his own breath hitched. Knowing she’d brace for what came next.

Spencer Though her walls were already tight around him, they would draw that much tighter as his command left his lips.  Her own lips parted as she fixed her eyes upon his.  If it weren’t enough that she was already clinging to that ledge, those three words would send her over in a rush.  The wait had been tortuous for the woman, already knowing if he should say no, she would have to defy him out of sheer natural forces, but the manner in which those words were delivered, she might never want to hear any other way again.  Her hips continued against him, though each drive forward was driving her insane, up until those words fell from his lips.  No longer needing to hold out for him, her body’s control released against him as those walls pulsated against his own throbbing cock.  Leaning slightly back as her head fell the same, eyes drifting closed as her entire body fell captive to the release of that nectar.  Rushing forth from her to coat him tip to base, keeping the shift of her hips as she drew her hand from the back of his neck.  Cumming harder for him in that moment than she perhaps ever knew possible, driven by the emotional connection existing between the two, sparked in the rougher side he offered her that night.  A cry from her lips as she gave into the full power of that release, making no attempt to hold back as this was his to feel and see, as every bit of it was in direct reaction to the man beneath her.

John He resisted his urge to lift his hips. To push himself more forcibly into her as she did just fine on her own. Patiently having to bide his time as Johnny had not been used to the push and pull. Allowing someone to make him cum instead of forcing himself to. She not only brought him to that but he genuinely enjoyed it as he felt her cumming for him. The sounds she made, the scent of her , the taste of her. All colliding in him for one massively awaited orgasm as he came for her. Pushing the heat of his seed within her warm walls where she’d find an all too familiar feeling nestling within her as he soaked her to the core.

Spencer Unable to fall against him as she ordinarily would have, forced to use what little bit of strength remained within the woman to stay there on top of him should she want to avoid that feeling of vast emptiness that always followed.  She brought her hand to his there at her own hip, lacing her fingers between his as she lowered her head from where she had been leaned back slightly, attempting to gain her breath once more.  It would take but a moment for her to realize she couldn’t maintain this, forcing her to tighten her hand in his, easing off of him as she found her way to his side.  Resting her head in the curve of his shoulder as she drew in breath after breath laced with their joint scent there in the air between them.  “That,” she whispered against his skin, her body limp there beside him as she closed her eyes, coming down from that high he had taken her on.

John Feeling her slipping in beside him, they could no longer pull into one another with her on top of him or he on top of her as they might like yet that wasn’t to be said that they couldn’t figure it out. Feeling her at his shoulder, her whisper noted as he drew in a deep inhale. Chest burning all the while as his hands swept to join at her back. Feeling the heat her own body radiated. A low laugh leaving him. “That.” he agreed wordlessly, a thumbs up forming behind her back.

Spencer “Mhm,” she offered, drawing it out slightly as there was simply no other word or reaction for it from her side of things.  Feeling him pull into her, there on their sides where they had begun the entire thing, she couldn’t help but feel as though they had come full circle.  Stealing her lips to his own, her kiss kept soft, nothing like that which they had just shared.  Her ankle crossing over his as she still tried to get closer even though closer wasn’t much of an option, finding more and more things she would have to look forward to when the 4-6 weeks postpartum were complete and she could be with him in the manner they had been accustomed to over the year prior.  

John Pressing his lips gently back to hers as he still attempted to regular his breathing, feeling her locking closer to him as his hand gently smoothed over her back in a ways resemblant to when he gave her a back massage. The offer standing as he just might do it anyway as he pressed his lips back to hers. Inhaling through his nostrils before he heard his phone vibrate somewhere against the coffee table. A cock of his brow as he pulled back from her gently to only check it. Opening a text message from his brother. Contents within reading “Nice job, Johnboy” causing a deep laugh from the man that drew oddly on his expression given the rarity of it.

Spencer As he drew back to reach for that phone, the intimacy there interrupted for a text message, there was a part of her that wished he hadn’t.  A whine was there at her lips, nothing like those he had drawn from her previously as he opened the text message.  Burying herself there in the curve of his arm, wishing him to just put it down.  It was somewhere in the middle of the night and someone was texting him; not her favorite thing in the world.  As a laugh broke his lips, it sounded foreign to his wife.  She could count on one hand with several fingers left over how many times she’d ever heard him laugh, yet never had she heard one so deeply rooted.  “Someone sending you knock, knock jokes in the middle of the night?”

John Hearing her question, he had to laugh harder as it was something of the opposite. Amazed by even himself at how funny he was finding this as he placed the phone back down. Trying to keep it together as he looked at her. A moment of peace in the laughter before he was back at it. Hiding his face in his neck. “No.” he answered honestly with a low sigh as its conclusion, feeling like he hadn’t done that for a good while. “It was Judas.”

Spencer As he curled back into her, her hand was there to the back of his neck as he took refuge there within the curve of her own.  His laugh finally ceasing, she couldn’t help but smile softly.  As he confirmed it was his brother, she couldn’t imagine what Judas had said that would bring forth such a hearty laugh from John, and yet a part of her didn’t want to know.  A hum found her lips as she pressed a kiss against his shoulder.  “Mmm, and he made you laugh by sending a dick pic?”  She asked, all seriousness therein her tone, not quite sure the intimacy could actually be regained now, though a part of her had quite enjoyed hearing the man truly laugh.  

John “Eww.” he hummed, nose nudging to her shoulder where he pressed a gentle kiss. He shook his head. Sadly, he had already seen it. Most people had seen what his brother had packing several times over. Nothing could really shock him anymore. As his hand slipped up her back, his fingers curling gently over the back of her neck. “No, he said ‘nice job, Johnboy.’” He explained to her as he inhaled their mingled scent on her skin.

Spencer “Are you kidding me?”  The words escaped her lips before she could begin to stop them.  Despite John’s best efforts there to draw her back into him, to regain something that had been lost at the sounding of his phone, she was now officially gone.  With all of the space provided to them by Judas, she had been more than grateful to him for it, but this had struck the hormonal side of the woman entirely wrong.  She was made to believe they had their own space there, a safe haven away, and yet Judas had heard her… Biting her lip to keep herself from saying anything further, feeling his fingertips to the back of her neck as she attempted to fall into that feeling, though already every muscle in her body seemed to tense up once again.  Feeling as though they had no privacy, the space felt smaller and smaller by the moment.  In their apartment, she was sure people heard them on the regular, but never had anyone texted to congratulate John on the sound of his wife’s orgasm.  It felt like a violation, one that was not sitting well with her in the slightest.  “Can we please get out of here?”  She stated quickly, not meaning to make plans in the future, not meaning to get the house sooner, not meaning to find a hotel that afternoon.  She was speaking quickly, and in the present, in that very moment despite the dead of night outside.

John Hearing her get serious on a matter that seemed hilarious to him given the fact that he was usually the one listening to it. A tour bus was a tiny place and he had come to be so used to it that it didn’t even phase him anymore. Yet, her response had her tensing up and it had the man slightly confused. Her question caused a tilt of his head. Yet, there wasn’t a whole lot he wouldn’t do to appease her in the moment. She was 9 months pregnant. “If you really want.” he returned, willing to appease her though he couldn’t help but think that this would be a moment they looked back on and laughed when she was a little less pregnant.

Spencer It wouldn’t make a bit of sense to her in a few weeks as to why she felt this way, but something about another man hearing her cum for him in the manner in which she had bothered her to the very core.  Though a moment before, she would have said this was the best end to a stressful night, she now felt the weight of the stress before mixed with the addition to knowing Judas had heard her.  Heard her.  All of her. Withholding nothing from her husband.  Violated.  “You really think that was appropriate?”  she asked, suddenly pulling back as she put the ball in his court.  He had laughed at it.  He had laughed at the fact that another man heard his wife cum.  She couldn’t wrap her mind around it as she sat up on the bed, her heart racing at the very idea, not to mention the fact that looking him in the face was out the damned door.

John Hearing her question, he tilted his head. Understanding there for a moment her logic. That it was meant for him. He could get that and if it was anyone other than Judas, he probably would have killed them. Yet, it was his brother. Those were boundaries the two never crossed and never had and never would. They didn’t play in one another’s oatmeal and Judas respected him enough to understand how protective he was over such things. “No.” he answered as she sat up on the bed, fingers still brushing over her skin as he wouldn’t let her go without his contact until she completely turned away from him. “But it is okay…I’ve heard Judas doin’ shit so many times through our lives and this is the first time he’s ever heard me. Literally hundreds of time so it wasn’t anything personal. It’s just that he finally caught me on one.”

Spencer As he sat up with her, his touch in constant contact with her, she had to give the man at least a little credit there for trying, though there was no reasoning with her in this state.  Feeling her blood boil within her, all she could feel was completely violated in this, as though Judas had heard perhaps the most personal, vulnerable, raw moment of the woman’s life in something that should only truly ever be given to John.  Hearing him go on about Judas’ endeavors, it didn’t even things out.  It didn’t make it any better.  “I can go put some clothes on if he wants to come in here and give you a high five.  Maybe bring in one of those ring girl signs, rate the fucking orgasm on a scale of 1 to 10.”  Sarcasm dripped from her, though not a single word of it was spoken with humor or ease.  Livid didn’t cover it as she glanced over at the dresser, wondering just how long it would take the two of them to get their shit and get out of there entirely.  

John Hearing her go on, he knew there was nothing he could say here. He’d just have to weather the storm with her and if she wanted to go? Well, he’d be happy to go ahead and make this happen. Shaking his head to suggest that he didn’t agree with this idea of hers no matter how sarcastically. He was standing up. Pulling his boxers back up as he found his jeans as well. Yanking them up before he was finding his duffle bag not so far off. Opening up her drawers first to collect a few items of clothes for her that would last a few days. Remembering the essentials before he’d do the same for himself.

Spencer As John fell silent on her, leaving her there on the bed, she couldn’t decide if he was going along with this because she wanted it or if he felt like there was an actual offense done here.  The last thing she wanted was to fight with him after everything else, but she still couldn’t quite shake the feeling of that violation.  Standing up from the bed, she walked over to where he was at the dresser, bringing her hands to either of his sides, pressing her face against his back.  “it’s supposed to be just yours, John,” she whispered, finding that vulnerability as she spoke the truth against his back, wanting him to understand her.  She knew she wasn’t thinking straight, but hoped he could at least give her that much.  A few months before, she could have easily slipped between him and that dresser, but instead she was at his back, relying on him to turn into her if he felt so inclined to do so.  “Please don’t be mad.  Of all of the things in the entire world that could and have gone wrong today, I really, really don’t want you to be mad at me.  I just don’t like the idea of him, or anyone for that matter, taking what’s yours.”

John Not taking offense in the least, he was just willing to go with her to make her comfortable. He felt her at his sides as she spoke, telling him not to be mad though he wasn't. "You're always going to be mine." He stated honestly, "no one hearing or saying or doing anything is going to change that. Not even you." He reminded her simply, though maybe understanding that she was feeling this way because she knew her husband to be a man who had never had the best things. Not even the 2nd or the 3rd. What little he did have was usually taken from him as well. "I'm not mad though. I just want you to be in a place you feel comfortable. Even if that ain't here."

Spencer Hearing him speak, she nodded her head, slipping off to the side of him to press the drawer closed.  Needing to see his face, to take his hand.  Slipping her hand into the strap of the duffle, she took it from him, easing it to the floor as she attempted to draw his full focus.  “I think it’s all just weighing on me.  We’ve been here a long time… and I know the house, and I know it’ll be soon… Are you comfortable here?  You’re okay with the text message high five?”  She asked, her tone not nearly as angry as she shifted her concern to him, literally using him to attempt to gauge her own emotions as she couldn’t trust herself in that moment, only knowing that beyond all else, she needed him.  She could be wherever he was, as she had proven over the last several months since they had been displaced from their own place.  A woman of complete independence, she had struggled with this arrangement from the beginning, just wanting to feel that she and John were just as they had always been.  They didn’t need anyone but one another, so when the decision was made for her here, she had gone with it for as long as she could before this would tip the scale for her.  “How soon do you think things could go through on the house?”  she asked, trying to even herself out there, trying to convince herself she could do anything for a little while as she would also advise their child one day.  It was temporary, even if the feeling of violation had been something she feared would sit upon her for far more than just the immediate future.

John "They agree to the terms, we sign the papers...it's ours." He stated, as the house was move in ready and had been on the market for a bit. Would there be things that they'd have to change and customize? Sure, but that would have to come along the way. An unforeseen bonus to not going with a fix-me up as he had originally expected. Looking down towards her, left without purpose there at the dresser. He shrugged. "He means well." The woman explained, the two had been close for so long that it was difficult to understand some new boundaries. "He ain't out to hurt us, Spence." He reminded her, as seemingly everyone else was.

Spencer Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded her head in agreement.  She didn’t know who was and who wasn’t anymore, to be honest.  She never would have thought her father would have been either, and yet that had proven otherwise in the last few hours.  Trust was going to be an issue for the woman, more so than it ever had been before, and for that she would hope he could understand.  Slipping there before him, her hand finding his side as her other hand slipped into his.  “Take me back to bed?”  She asked, her way of telling him they didn’t have to go anywhere.  They could wait out the response from his offer for the house bought with money her father intended to break her heart with.  Everything feeling foreign to her outside of the bond of just the two of them at this point in time, though she could only hope he would understand.  “I want to sleep with you,” she offered, something neither of them seemed to be able to do in quite some time, though she held most of the fault in that on herself.  But now, she wanted nothing more than to simply get into any bed with that man, hold as close as she could to him, and try to pretend they were somewhere in the near future where things didn’t feel so heavy.

John "Then let's." With an edge of confidence that was unusual at the suggestion of sleeping together as the two were typically not successful at his endeavor at last check. Feelings her hand in his. Using his fingers to fill in the space of hers, his own hand at her side and he walked her back to the bed. "I think that is what the craziest part is...attempting to buy me out when I can whisper less than a sentence to my brother and never have to work again, you know?" He asked, supposing someone had not done their homework very well on his family as supposed. Walking her back to the bed. "Try all they like...John James ain't goin' no where."

Spencer A weak smile passed her lips as he agreed to take her back to bed.  Allowing him to guide her there if only to remain close to him, feeling as though they had gone through entirely too much as of late and needed something calm.  Dipping her head there against his upper arm as they walked the short space to the bed where she’d pause to meet his eyes in time to hear his confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere.  Still not yet realizing the full weight of all that she had done, effectively abandoning her entire family and life before him, she could still say without hesitation the very same words to him.  “Nowhere without his wife, that is,” she added, assuring the man that he would not wake to find her gone, nor would he find her gone in a week or a month or a decade.  Lifting to her toes, her free hand finding the side of his face as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips before she’d break from him to ease there into the bed, determined to actually sleep with him in a way it seemed they hadn’t done in months.  Once she was there in her place, all except his arm around her, she was looking up at him from where she laid, tilting her head to the side to suggest he join her sooner rather than later.

John Watching her slip into bed and look at him, his eyes followed hers as he slipped in behind her. Finding it funny how the most prep work to happen in this bed was actually sleeping that night as he slipped one arm under the pillow under her head. His free one around her, hand protectively placed over her stomach. A gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder blade. "Nowhere without my wife..." he repeated, quite liking the sound of that.

Spencer Feeling him find a place there behind her, managing to find a position the two hadn’t tried in an attempt to actually sleep together, she couldn’t help but smile as she glanced back over her shoulder to meet his eyes as she stole another kiss from his lips.  With his hand there to her stomach, she brought her own there over top of his, letting her fingers rest against the tops of his, bonding their family there together as they found a conclusion to a sleepless night where perhaps they could actually get at least a few hours together.  “I love you,” she offered there against his lips before she was turning her head back properly to rest against the pillow with his arm supporting underneath as she closed her eyes.  Denying the parts of herself that wanted to run, deciding to face another day there with him, though a part of her would worry what her next face to face with his brother might look like.  

John "I love you." He returned, words no longer sounding too odd or painful yet knowing he could hardly make a complete and total habit. Those were for them and them alone knowing the power they contained past that bedroom. Watching her close her eyes, lips pressing up against her neck. Only knowing that the day in their own bedroom wasn't too far away with a baby in the bassinet and the rest of the world as outsiders past their door.

Spencer With the words returned for the last time that night, she knew she was getting a little too free with them, yet she knew better than to utter them beyond private quarters.  Code words and exchanged glances would suffice beyond the confines of a shared private room, and yet they would speak just as loudly as those words did at times.  Feeling his lips there to the side of her neck, she couldn’t possibly feel any more at home without being in their own home than she did in that moment.  Assuring herself silently that they had been through the worst of it all as she drifted off into what might stand to be the best night of sleep the woman had in months there wrapped within his arms.

John Feeling the woman grow comfortable, lax and finally asleep in his arms, he was relieved due to it. Knowing she had more than earned that sleep and needed it. He stayed still and where he was. Feeling her breathing beside him and watching her until the task made his own eyes heavy and forced him out into his own sleep. Marking a true occasion for the two being able to fall asleep together now as if the reason for that break did not lay under a protective hand.

Spencer The next few hours, the woman didn’t move.  It wouldn’t be until the sun came up, shining through the window that she would finally start to stir, yet only to turn into him instead of her back being against him.  Refusing morning as the sleep was just too good, she could stay only for a certain amount of time before nature would have other plans for her.  A grumble there at her lips as she slipped his arm from around her.  Having had enjoyed that time there with him a little too much, making it all the harder for her to get up out of the bed, knowing it to be next to impossible to get back to that place once more if she were to abandon it.  As her feet hit the floor, she found her shirt there by her feet, bending down to pick it up, slipping the fabric over her head as she made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.  A few minutes later, she’d return, entirely awake with fresh breath as she found her way back into the bed, yet laying there to her own side of the mattress, staring at the sleeping man beside her, stealing that glimpse of him as he truly appeared most at peace when his eyes were closed.

John
While she had entered the living, Johnny was caught in his own head. Left there. A dream eclipsing him yet it was closer to reality than many would admit. Walking the streets, he crossed one of the dark back alleys in the section that his grandparents had once lived. Familiar roads and routes from childhood. Hand heavy with the handgun within it. Crossing one alley to the next, chasing a voice. He heard his name on the man's lips. Infuriating him for reasons he could not quite understand yet he entered the dead end alley where the owner of the voice stood. Speaking to the brick wall. Back to him. 'Johnny James, Johnny James.' With an unbearable sneer and a taste for blood. Johnny landed the barrel into the man's back and pulled the trigger. Watching him timber to his face. Unmoving. Dead. Johnny reached down, hand on his shoulder. Rolling him over and it was the face of the man that startled him out of sleep. Eyes jolting open with a sharp breath as he was pulling himself up from the bed into a seated position with no ability to tell himself what was real and what was not.

Spencer
In peace, Spencer had laid, watching her husband sleep in a manner that had been just as peaceful as what she felt her own had been, until it wasn’t. As he took a sharp breath, jerking to a seated position on the bed, she was quick to his side or at least as quick as she could be in her present state. “Hey,” she quickly offered, her hand coming against his, easily able to establish he was coming out of a dream, yet no way to know what it was. “You alright?” she asked, already seeming to know the answer to that question, yet it was the most obvious to ask. Disappointment settled within the pit of her stomach as they had finally found that rest together only for him to wake in a far off state from the serenity she’d hoped he’d join her in that morning.

John
Hearing the voice, he was quickly pressing his face into his palms. Shaking his head as if to shake it all off. To get the vision out of his head. A sharp breath. Combating it as he felt her hand to his. Hardly able to look at the woman as the face he had seen was the man that she called father. Feeling guilty for doing something he had not done. "Fuck." He answered upon her question, not even able to lift his head.

Spencer
Easing just a bit closer to the man, she heard the word he uttered against his palms. Pressing her lips there to his exposed shoulder, her free hand there against his back. “Hey, it was just a dream,” she assured, not quite certain she knew what she was comforting him from exactly, but still there for him regardless of what it was. Another press of her lips against his shoulder, not wanting to crowd the man, yet feeling as though she needed to be right there at the same time. “Everything’s fine,” she promised, as it was absolutely that. “Here, let me get you something to drink,” she offered, not quite sure if that would be helpful to him in that moment or not, but offering just the same as she began to slip away to do just that.

John
"No, no. I'm fine." He insisted as she went to get him something to drink. Not wanting to inconvenience her any further as he was sure he had startled her. Forcing his hands from his face as he reached down for her wrist. Not wanting her out of his sight. "I'm fine." He repeated, as if trying to convince himself as he sighed low. Eyes meeting the features of his wife and not the daughter of the man he had just murdered in his dreams.

Spencer
His first refusal would not stop her as she was already easing in that direction. As his hand came to her wrist, repeating again that he was fine, it was quickly known she was not to leave that bed. Drawing a breath, she could only wonder if something had happened to the baby in his dream, though she wouldn’t dare ask it. Drawing her lower tier between her teeth, she nodded her head as she moved back towards him. Managing her wrist free of him, her hand came against his back, willing him into her neck as best she could as her free hand found his. “You want to talk about it?” She offered, promising herself she’d pry no further if he was to refuse, though she had truly never seen the man quite like this before.

John He found himself ever grateful that the woman had more of her mother's looks about her. He wasn't sure he'd be able to see that same set of eyes back at him in that moment. After he had pulled that trigger, no sympathy for the life he had taken. Just the fact that he had hurt Spence. Leaning closer into her, he shook his head. He didn't want to talk. Maybe one day, knowing the elephant memory of his wife would have this conversation repeated. The contents of the dream had been downright disturbing after all. "No."

Spencer If not for the way he turned into her, leaning closer, allowing her to be there for him, his spoken word may have turned her off completely.  Yet, he was there against her and she would be there for him in whatever form he needed her to be.  Should he wish to talk, she’d listen.  Should he just want to sit there, she’d just sit with him.  “Okay,” she offered softly, not pressing the man, nor would she bring it up again. It was clear he was upset, which wouldn’t quite sit right with her, but she’d not take away her presence either.  Her hand there gently rubbing his back, staying just as close to him as he willed her to be.  “It was just a dream,” she whispered, the only thing she could truly offer to try to comfort him, reminding him whatever it was he had seen had not been real.  She was there, the baby was fine, basing her assumption on it was something to do with one or both.  

John But it wasn't fine. He pulled that trigger so easily and he'd do it again in the real world for hurting her yet he'd only hurt her further. He'd never quite understand the bonds that tied between a child and a father, between a father and child? Yes, but never the other way around. Having no father of his own, he'd never quite understand her bond to his yet he saw it strong enough. Realizing she shouldn't have been comforting him. He nodded. A strong inhale as he leaned up, brushing his fingers over his head. "How'd you sleep?"

Spencer Feeling him slip from her, she could only hope it wasn’t anything she had said though in truth, she hadn’t said much.  His strong breath was met with a softer one of her own, her head turning to the side to look at him but a moment later.  A hum found her lips at that question from his.  It had been a long time since she could say the words that were about to slip her lips.  “I slept great,” she assured, after a long pregnancy filled with many sleepless nights.  The sleep she did get had been barely enough to pull her through the next six to eight hours before she could get another hour or so of sleep to do the same.  But something about the night before with him, the emotional rollercoaster of it, the intimacy, all culminated in the woman finally coming to meet a restful few hours of sleep that would be more than enough to bring her through the next day.  Knowing not to ask him the same in return given the condition he awoke in, she instead brought her hand to his thigh.  “Was thinking about heading out for a while this morning… maybe get some things for Rhys.”  A lift of her eyes was evident as she said the child’s name, no longer referring to him as ‘the baby’ but assigning that name to him every chance she got.  “Think you can swing a few hours while we wait to hear about that offer?”

John "Good." Surprised to hear she had gotten a good nights rest but relieved by it, he knew sleep had not been easy for the two of them. But her getting some rest went a long way and he was quite happy to know it. Rubbing his hands over his face as he slowly stirred to a more eased state of relaxation. Hearing her speak, not sure he'd be invited, he nodded when he was offered it. "Yeah...just gonna' need a coffee stop." He warned, a harder rub at his eyes until the blue was slightly bloodshot and irritated.

Spencer Watching him dig there at his eyes, she wished there was something she could do, yet found herself to be quite empty handed on the topic.  She didn’t know what it was he had experienced, now figuring her best route was to distract him away from it with the idea of shopping for Rhys, for his room, for their home.  Perhaps putting all hope in the idea John’s offer would be accepted, trying to find something good to focus on as there was simply too much of the other.  “Deal, as long as there’s an apple fritter in it for me,” she teased, though she was serious all at the same time.  Her pesky morning addiction throughout the course of the pregnancy, already able to taste it on her tongue though it was nowhere to be had.  Pressing a kiss there to his shoulder, with a plan now in place, she rose to her feet off the edge of the bed to start the process to get herself ready.  Pulling out clothes out of the dresser, she rested them at the end of the bed, her feet finding that duffle bag from the night before.  Looking down at it, she couldn’t help but be reminded of just what that man was willing to do for her, even in the middle of the night.  A wave of emotion raced through her, though for now it was contained in a simple smile as she turned to look back at him there on the bed.  “You have anything going on today you have to be back for?”  She asked, attempting to gauge what their day could be, as though she could actually handle shopping for hours on end at this point.  Figuring it would be the goal, to attempt to knock out most everything Rhys would need since neither of them had done much of that in the prior months.  Now sitting there at the due date and a couple of days beyond, she knew time was of the essence and it was time they get some things going before this man decided to make his long awaited arrival.  

John Humming at the mention of apple fritters as it sounded entirely too good to him at the moment coupled with the idea of coffee. Knowing he might be able to sway her with some decaf as he'd need the full hit with the day the woman seemed to be planning. While he had nothing against shopping for his son, getting the things they needed, the idea of hanging out in a Babies R Us day led him to the conclusion that he'd find a rocking chair to fall asleep in without the coffee. Hearing her question, he stood from the bed. A shake of his head. "Not that I can think of. Just that call."

Spencer Watching as he rose from the bed, the smile on her face was endless.  To put it lightly, she was happy.  They were hopefully to have a house, soon.  They would have something of their own once more with a little man to begin the forming of their family, only to be joined by River as soon as they could get everything in line.  Although her life before John had come apart at the seams, the most recent betrayal of her father still lying there somewhere beneath the surface, it seemed their lives together were only getting better.  “I hope that call comes sooner rather than later,” she confessed, though not holding any amount of that to John, knowing it was beyond his control.  As she dressed, her eyes were frequently stealing glances at the man, needing to be sure he was alright without actually pushing him, a fine line to be had in which she could not rely on her interrogating gut instincts that said to pin him down and force him to talk.  She had to trust him and trust in that he trusted her.  If he wanted to talk, it was there.  But until then, she would go full speed ahead at something she had hoped would bring him at least some joy.

John "Yeah, me too." He agreed, walking to the dresser where a shower was in order. Tucking a fresh pair of boxers under his arm along with a t-shirt and some jeans. He was letting that dream go in hopes of a more fulfilling day. Glancing back towards her as she seemed happy. Radiating off of her in troves and he was happy for her happiness. She deserved it and it was about time that they got some of it. "You showering?"

Spencer Standing before him, halfway dressed, it would dawn on the woman that she had not showered.  Her mind had taken that track of getting him out of the house and getting some things for the baby, thus throwing off her entire typical morning routines he had come to know.  Her hands found the elastic waist of the jeans she wore, tugging them back down with a grumble at her lips.  Entirely too hard on herself about these things slipping her mind as she wasn’t quite used to being so damned forgetful.  “Yeah, I need to…” she offered, though there was no  possible way to make it as though she had not forgotten.  

John "I mean you don't have to...you smell fine." He teased, honestly, she smelled quite good and he liked that she smelled like him. Her own intricate form of pheromones and pregnancy hormones. "I just stink and I know I do." He commented, knowing he had stunk the night before. Opening the door to the bathroom, he laid his clothes on the counter before he went for the sink. Already knowing he'd need a quick shave before the fact thus buying her a few minutes to debate her options.

Spencer “I smell like you, so if you stink, I stink,” she teased as he disappeared within the bathroom, finding it quite comical that he thought she smelled fine when her own scent was mixed with his.  Although she had spaced out a bit there, she appreciated that he wouldn’t directly call her on it, instead a little mention bringing her back to a place where she was in the right headspace to remember that which was customary.  Coming off duty entirely had been an adjustment for the woman, losing the true routine she had been a part of for years upon years.  There was a part of her that craved that work again, and yet there was another part of her that was truly enjoying this time off where she could just prepare for the birth of their child and look forward to weeks at home with him after.  Drawing out another pair of jeans and panties from the dresser, laying them with the shirt and bra she had laid out, she gave John a moment to himself in the bathroom before she’d come in, placing her clothes tight to the side of his, making them fit as best she could as to not push his off in the process.  “Tell me one thing you really would like to come home with tonight.  The one thing you are really looking forward to buying.”  Her request clearly based in making sure he was getting to actively be a part of the things he held interest in.  “Like, the glider,” she spoke honestly as she could already envision the man half asleep holding Rhys in one, a light rocking to the furniture as he dozed off.  A smile met her features as she pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder, unable to resist such contact with such a peaceful image there in her mind.

-May 20, 2016