#need a favor

[thedroneranger]

Need a Favor

Rhett Abbott

Synopsis: Rhett does more than hurt his shoulder when he's bucked off a bull during competition. While his wellbeing is in question, your biggest hurdles are his family and his pesky ex that constantly call you into question.

Notes: My first foray outside Top Gun. I've had this kicking around for quite a while and finally got the inspiration to finish it. It felt Rhett-Outer Range coded, so here we are! Influenced by the Jelly Roll song Need a Favor.

Warnings: Bull riding, religion; religious inaccuracies; medical inaccuracies; mentions of blood.

Word count: 5.3k.

The arena was electric. The cheers of the crowd, the clattering of the chutes, the grunts of the bulls. There had to be more people in this arena than in all of Wyoming. 

Then it died.

The silence was deafening. My eyes never left his slumped form as I charged down the stands. People parted like the Red Sea, allowing me the most direct route. My legs were gracious, bracing me as I dropped the eight feet into the arena and then sprinted toward him.

The medics had yet to arrive and the wranglers stood back as I approached. I dropped to my knees at Rhett’s side. His body was contorted in an unnatural position. His hat on the ground beside him—crumpled. Blood trickled from his hairline.

It would be a miracle if he didn’t break his back. “Rhett? Baby?” My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch his shoulder. He didn’t move. My vision began to blur, and I did my best to contain the tears threatening at my waterline. Still shaking, I pressed two fingers on his neck just below his jaw. My entire body untensed as I felt a thready pulse. “He has a pulse,” I stated to myself. 

Then I saw it. 

A sizable puddle of blood. Panicked, I pushed him over to find the stain on his shirt blossoming near the bottom edge of his vest. Without a second thought, I shoved my hand between his vest and shirt until I felt a tear in the fabric and then jagged flesh the wound. 

The medics arrived and pulled me out of the way. One of the chute hands held me by the elbows as we watched Rhett be braced and loaded onto a stretcher. Then she handed me off to a paramedic who helped me into the ambulance. 

I sat quietly and watched the medic fuss over Rhett. He was stable—for now. “Do you want to hold his hand?” The man offered. All I could do was stare at him as I balled my hand—the drying blood pulling at my skin. Clad in rubber gloves, the medic tucked Rhett’s hand in mine. 

Sitting in the ambulance, clutching his hand, my vision began to blur again. Warm streaks painted my cheeks, and I felt the droplets as they leapt from my jaw. Tears dotted my jeans.

The medic was doing his best to soothe me while monitoring Rhett. His voice was white noise as I gazed at Rhett. He hadn’t moved. His mouth didn’t twitch. His eyes didn’t dart behind his lids. He didn’t squeeze my hand. 

Thankfully they had slowed the bleeding, but he was steadily soaking through gauze. 

It all felt surreal as we arrived at the hospital, exited the ambulance, and I stood in the hallway as his gurney disappeared through the emergency surgery doors. 

A breath left my body I had no idea I had been holding. Feeling was returning to my fingers and toes—reality setting in. All that was left was to wait. Wait to hear if Rhett made it out of surgery. Wait to hear if or how this would alter Rhett’s life.

Remembering I had a hand caked in blood, I looked for the nurses station. One of the nurses kindly took me to a bathroom and helped me scrub clean. She also pilfered me a scrub top. We put my stained shirt into the biohazard bin. 

Back in the waiting room, still shaky, I dug my cell phone out of my pocket. Just as I was heading to find a seat, I heard a familiar voice. “Hey! Hold on!” I turned to see the medic hurrying toward me. I kept eye contact as he approached. “I wanted to make sure you got these.” 

At his side, Rhett’s vest hung in one hand and my rosary sat in the palm of his other. Once it registered it was my rosary, my eyes widened. I looked between him and his palm. Then I then held out mine and he deposited the beads into it. “Thank you.” I had the smallest smile.

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, handed me the vest, and then continued back to his rig.

I clutched the beads as I turned to continue further into the waiting room. Finding a somewhat secluded corner, I tucked the vest beside my chair and pulled out my phone. My eyes trained on my screen, scanned the list of Abbotts in my contacts. Ultimately, I decided to call the house in hopes Cecilia would pick up. 

My heart rate increased with each ring, and then…voicemail. Quickly, I punched the end button before dropping my phone in my lap. I plopped my rosary on top of it, and used both hands to rub my temples. 

What was my next move? 

Coffee. 

Coffee was the next move. Then maybe I would have the gumption, and the gusto, to try Cecilia again—or call Royal. 

This hospital was too small and too archaic for those fancy coffee vending machines. So I headed to the nurses station where the charge nurse pointed me in the direction of the cafeteria.

Nearing 10 p.m., the cafeteria was sparsely populated. A doctor here and there trying to conceal themselves, hoping for 15 minutes alone. A few workers were in the serving area, refreshing the limited offerings. A smile pulled my lips as I spotted the coffee.

While I paid for my drink, I heard the rain. Not just a light drizzle but a steady drumming of water. I stepped into the dining area and noticed the far end was a solarium. The rain streaked down the glass, distorting the view. Soothed by the sound, I walked over.

Sipping my coffee, I stared into the distance. I bet on a sunny day, it was a beautiful garden. Patients milling around with their visitors or their therapists coaching them through their post-op movement quota.

Maybe Rhett would be out there soon. Wobbling around with a cane or a walker under the watchful eye of a nurse or PT. Cussing under his breath because he “doesn’t need any help” but too polite to say anything aloud. I chuckled to myself as I turned to head back to the waiting room. The coffee was helping, but I still didn’t want to talk to Rhett’s family.

Somehow Cecilia was the least threatening Abbott. Hilarious, considering the first time I came to meet the Abbotts and have dinner Cecilia wouldn’t let me into the house. She and Rhett had a standoff—whisper bickering on the front porch and all. It was only when her granddaughter Amy grabbed my hand that she, begrudgingly, let me in.

The Abbotts didn’t strike me as overly religious. There were the usual hints here and there—a crucifix on the wall in the dining room, a bible in the end table drawer beside the couch. 

Cecilia proved to be the most faithful Abbott. She clearly believed in good and evil. Heaven and Hell. And to her, I was the devil. Brought into the Abbotts’ lives to test Rhett—lead him astray. 

If I were to succeed, Rhett might move off the ranch. Maybe leave Wabang, entirely. Desert the family. Lord knows if he could stay healthy, he’d be one hell of a bull rider. 

No matter what Cecilia thought of me, I needed to get a hold of her. Looking around the empty hallway, I stopped and pulled out my phone to try the house again. Still no answer. That woman really needed to get with the times and carry a cell phone.

Royal and I didn’t see eye-to-eye much, but Rhett was his son. I tapped his name and put the phone to my ear. I did my best to remain calm when he answered. Not wanting to waste anyone’s time, I first made sure he hadn’t already been contacted by the event staff or hospital.

Of course, Royal made a point to remind me Maria was listed as Rhett’s emergency contact and ask where she was in all this. I never knew how Maria managed to fly under the radar with the Abbotts. After all, we wanted the same things for Rhett. We both knew he could be doing so much more than mending fences and getting into bar fights.

Hell, the thought even crossed my mind to call Maria, but I couldn’t stomach her being here at the same time as the rest of the Abbotts and them doting on her. Plus, Rhett got quite warm under the collar when his family pitted us against one another.

Still unsure who would appear at the hospital, I was just glad that some of the Abbotts were en route. Feeling a little more at ease, I sipped my coffee as I pocketed my phone and wandered back to the waiting room.

My butt hadn’t even hit the cushion when someone was calling Rhett’s name. Immediately, I stood back up and made eye contact with whom I presumed to be the surgeon. “I’m here for Rhett Abbott!” I nearly tripped as I scrambled to the doctor. 

“Next of kin?” 

“Fiancée.” The lie rolled off my tongue so naturally. I backed it by giving my full name.

My heart felt like it was in my throat as I stared at the surgeon, waiting for him to continue. “That bull really did a number.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and crossed my arms. 

I did my best to listen as the surgeon explained. They were following concussion protocol since Rhett bashed heads with the bull and packed dirt. And getting gored how Rhett did was a freak accident—competition bull horns were always filed blunt. 

Overall, the damage to his internal organs appeared minimal. The bruising pain would take longer to subside than for the abrasions to heal. The only hiccup was Rhett still losing blood, so a vascular surgeon scrubbed in to assess him. 

Willing myself to be more hopeful than disappointed as the trauma surgeon disappeared, I sighed and shuffled back to my seat. 

It felt like an eternity as I finished my coffee and then stared into the bottom of the cup. Still no sign of the Abbotts, I decided to occupy myself by trekking back to the cafeteria. 

The rain was still pounding as I, again, took time to fantasize out the window. As I turned to leave, I nearly bumped into an older man. We exchanged pleasantries as he profusely apologized. 

“Coffee wouldn’t be the worst thing I wore today.” I tried to lighten the mood.

He eyed my scrub top and chuckled as he knelt on the floor for a second. “Does this belong to you?” He opened his palm to reveal my rosary. I shook my head as he deposited it into my hand. 

“How many Hail Marys to forgive dropping it on the floor.” 

“Well, that’s not my rodeo. I usually phone a friend.” I laughed softly at his response and thumbed the beads. “There’s a chapel on your way out if you want a few minutes to yourself. Or, if you want company, I’m happy to join you.” He paused. “I can also phone that friend.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a genuine smile. “I think I’ll spend some time one-on-one.” He nodded as we parted ways. 

The chaplain wasn’t kidding when he said the chapel was hidden. The door was the same color as the sterile hospital wall. The only giveaway was the stained glass window, which read as a painting if you weren’t paying attention. 

It was quaint. The front of the room was the focal point with a trio of stained glass panels. Raindrops ricocheted off the panes. I slid into the middle pew of the five rows. Still fiddling with my rosary, I stared at the windows. 

Clutching my beads, I folded my hands in the back of the pew in front of me. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought about Rhett.

“Religion is more Ma’s thing, but the Sundays she does get me to church, it doesn’t seem to matter how you worship.” Oh, Rhett. The thought of his voice was comforting. 

Suddenly a tear hit my wrist and I sucked in a breath. “Please don't let me lose him.” I mumbled between sobs. My forehead rested on the backs of my thumbs as I let my tears freely fall.

Once I felt empty, I sat back on the bench and slid each bead between my index and middle finger as I said the corresponding prayer. It was amazing what you could remember when it was beaten into you. A smile curled my lips as I thought about the first time Rhett realized the scarring across my knuckles and wrists were from rulers. 

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I thought about the tenderness he showed as he kissed each of my knuckles and then my wrists. He made his way up my arms as he pulled me into his lap. Eventually my lips were on his with my arms wrapped around his neck.

“Fuck,” I said as tipped my head and rolled my eyes to keep the tears from continuing.

Just then, I heard the door. I turned to see Cecilia, of all people. It took all my might not to let loose a barking laugh.

I was more shocked when she slid into the pew beside me, leaving just a few inches of space between us. “Surprised it’s still standing? The altar isn’t on fire?” I joked.

She eyed the beads in my hands. “Isn’t that Rhett’s necklace?” 

“It’s mine.” I paused for a second. “And it’s not a necklace, it’s a rosary. And I lent them to Rhett to protect him when he rides,” I added. She turned her head to look directly at me. “Blessed at the Vatican.” Her eyebrow jutted up the faintest bit. 

I leaned slightly over toward her. “It’s the fallen ones that need a savior most, isn’t it?” I listened to the rain for a few seconds before continuing. “And we only talk to God when we need favors?” Rhett would hate that I was needling his mother but also be proud I was standing up for myself.

Cecilia broke eye contact as she thought about how to respond. Instead of words, she placed her hand over mine that was holding my rosary. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Some of our prayers are the same.” She squeezed my hand as we bowed our heads. I followed her lead as we softly recited a prayer aloud. 

We were through our first set of Hail Marys when Royal walked in. “There’s news.” We jumped up, hand-in-hand. Royal noticed our physical attachment but he didn’t say anything as he turned to lead us out.

Perry and Amy were standing in the waiting room with the surgeon I spoke to earlier. Royal had to support Cecilia as the surgeon delivered cautiously optimistic news. Instinctively, I squeezed the beads in my hand. “When can we see him?” I blurted out.

“He hasn’t woken up, but you can visit him one at a time.” Amy bounced on the balls of her feet. “You can go accompanied by an adult,” the surgeon added, looking at her with a smile. He then turned to look at me. “Fiancée first?” All the Abbotts exchanged looks but no one challenged the title.

“Yes,”I said quickly and then herded the surgeon away.

A hand on the door knob, he looked at me. “Are you ready?” Silently, I nodded. Then he pushed the door open, allowing me through first. 

The room was soft lit and the only sound was Rhett’s heart monitor. Slowly, I walked to the bed. He looked peaceful. Tired but peaceful. 

Taken with Rhett, I didn’t even realize the surgeon let himself out. Quietly, I walked to the bedside. Rhett didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. His breaths were deep and even. 

They did their best to clean up his face. When he collided with the bull, it was face first so he ended up with a broken nose. The bruising was already apparent under his eyes. The stitches at his hairline were hardly noticeable. 

After a few minutes, I softly sat on the edge of his bed and gently tucked a curl behind his ear. His eye twitched and my hand stilled. He didn’t respond further, so I slipped my hand into his and rubbed the back with my thumb.

I sighed, continuing to watch his face. Selfishly, I wanted to stay here all night with him. However, at the very least, his mother and Amy needed to see him. 

With one last squeeze, I gently got off the bed and headed for the door. I looked back one more time before leaving.

After everyone had a chance to see Rhett, Royal and Perry decided to drive over and get Rhett’s truck from the arena. 

Amy and I stayed in the waiting room while Cecilia sat with her son. Amy was in good spirits, although Rhett had yet to wake up. She succumbed to curiosity and asked a million questions about Rhett. I did my best to answer every one. 

Finally, Perry and Royal returned. Trailing behind them was Maria. I stood as Amy ran over to greet her father. “I figured you would turn up here,” I said coldly to Maria as she stood directly in front of me. 

She shrugged. “Well, they called me directly, so I figured I should stop by and check in.”

“Where’d you come from? The moon? How are you just arriving if you were the first call?” I asked. “Did you even bother to call the Abbotts?”

“Of course, I called Cecilia,” she explained. “But she wasn’t home, and Royal didn’t pick up.”

“And Perry?” I pressed her. 

She lowered her voice. “I don’t call that piece of shit for anything.” She glared in his direction. “Isn’t it kind of weird Rhett hasn’t changed his emergency contact?” She looked back at me. “Maybe he wants to make sure it’s someone he can trust.” She smirked.

Before I could say anything, Perry approached us. He dropped Rhet’s truck keys in my hand. “Assuming you’re going to want to stay, being his fiancée and all.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks as he winked at me.

She tried not to appear obvious, but Maria’s eyes widened slightly and her gaze dropped to my hand. I could see her relax when she realized I wasn’t wearing a ring.

Just then, Royal, who had excused himself to say good night to Rhett and collect his wife, returned with Cecilia. “Maria!” Cecilia opened her arms to embrace her. 

However, Cecilia was focused on me during the interaction. “You’ll update us as soon as you hear?” Royal held out Cecilia’s coat, coaxing her to part with Maria. 

“Of course.” I nodded.

“We’ll plan to come back tomorrow afternoon,” Royal stated. 

“I’ll swing by, too,” Maria added.

“Ooh! We can come together!” Cecilia added. 

“Perfect.” Maria smiled.

It took all my energy to not roll my eyes. My attention was diverted when Amy threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I smiled and hugged her back, kissing the top of her head. 

I waited for them to disappear through the doors, and then made my way to Rhett’s room. Light was beginning to peek through his blinds. He was still sound asleep. I tried my best to be quiet as I pushed the little cushioned sitting chair as close as possible to his bedside. Once seated, I sipped my coffee and told him about the night with his family. 

Eventually, I moved onto reminiscing about some of our shared memories. Feeling a little stiff, I changed positions, folding my legs under me in the chair and leaning forward so my stacked arms rested on the edge of his bed. With my chin resting on top of them, I watched him. 

Just being there gave me a sense of peace. The adrenaline was wearing off. My eyelids felt so heavy, which reminded me that I was coming up on 24 hours without sleep. It wouldn’t hurt to rest my eyes…

Rhett and I were laying in one of the pastures on the Abbott ranch. A beautiful day, the sun was warm on our faces. The back of Rhett’s fingers stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. He kept saying my name as we looked at each other.

My eyes darted around behind my eyelids, and then shot open to see Rhett staring at me—he really was stroking my cheek and saying my name. Basking in his touch, I leaned into his fingers. The tiniest smile pulled a corner of his mouth. 

“Rhett.” I sounded groggy. He rasped my name in response. Leaning into his fingers one more time, I pulled away to get him his water cup beside his bed. 

After a few timid sips, he was damn near chugging. “Whoa, slow down. It’s not going anywhere.” He smiled as I put his cup back on the bedside table and sat down. Rhett brushed his finger along mine. In response, I put my hand over his.

I could feel the tears building. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” I leaned down and kissed the back of his palm. 

“Me, too.” He did his best to hold my hand. After a minute he said, “What’d I miss?” Clearly, his sarcasm hadn’t been broken. I couldn’t help but smile.

We enjoyed each other’s company until a nurse came to check his vitals and realized he was awake. Then I stood beside his bed and held his hand while nurses and doctors poked and prodded and questioned him. Rhett remained calm throughout the entire process—might’ve been the morphine.

Once the doctor was satisfied, the nurses continued to work, so I stepped out to get another coffee and call Cecilia, as promised. Again hoping to reach her directly, I called the house line. She answered on the first ring. She was holding back tears as I updated her. It was the first time I heard sheer happiness in the woman’s voice.

I soaked in every minute I could alone with Rhett. I was torn between giving Rhett a heads up about Maria or letting him find out when she sashayed into his room. “Rhett?” I was cross-legged in the chair, leaning against the side of his bed and holding his hand. 

He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “Maria is coming to see you.” 

“What?” Surprise was evident in his voice.

I took a deep breath before continuing. “She’s still listed as your emergency contact, so she got a phone call to notify her you were injured,” I explained. “She showed up last night well after visiting hours.” He scoffed. “And Cecilia invited her back today.” 

Rhett groaned and shifted a little. “I can’t believe her.” 

My thumb soothed the back of his palm. “Maria is always trying to win you back.”

“I’m talking about my mother. She has to cut this shit out.” Rhett’s voice was tense, and I could feel it in his fingers.

“Don’t worry about them, Rhett.” We locked eyes. “It’ll be fine. I only mentioned it so that you weren’t completely caught off guard.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. A smile pulled the one corner of my mouth as I placed my free hand over our clasped ones.

We sat in silence until Amy bound through the door. “Uncle Rhett!” Both their faces lit up as she ran over. She hugged me after she came around the bed. Amy was small enough, I hoisted her onto Rhett’s bed to carefully hug him and then hold his hand. 

She was chattering a mile a minute when Cecilia and Royal came in. After greeting them, I excused myself to get a coffee.

As luck would have it, Maria was arriving. “Too scared to be in a room with me?” she asked. 

“Mhmm, I don’t like the smell of trash.”

She audibly laughed. “Your insults mean nothing” We held eye contact. “The Abbotts love me. And I know them like the back of hand. I can play ‘em like fiddles.” She scanned my face for a reaction—I remained stoic. 

“Cecilia thinks you’re the devil,” she continued. “Trying to lure her baby off the ranch.”

“And what exactly is it that she thinks you’re doing?” I retorted.

Maria smiled and shrugged. “I had my heyday. I wouldn’t possibly want to move away now. I’m ready to find a husband and settle down. I know there’s no place like Wabang.” Sarcasm colored her tone.

I laughed. “That’s for damn sure.” 

“Good luck overcoming that.” She huffed and bumped my shoulder as she passed. 

Just as she was about to cross the threshold into Rhett’s room, Cecilia popped out the door. It felt like slow motion as they collided. The lid popped off Maria’s coffee and scalding brown liquid dyed her baby pink blouse. 

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” Cecilia cried. “Let’s get you cleaned up!” Cecilia took Maria by the elbow down the hall in the direction of the restrooms. Maria held the fabric away from skin as Cecilia muled her along. 

A shake of my head, I continued to the cafeteria for my own beverage.

On my way back, I stopped in the almost hidden chapel. During my previous visit, I’d noticed the bowl of holy water and wanted to splash some on my rosary to cleanse it before giving it back to Rhett. It was the best I could do without a priest. 

When I returned to Rhett’s room, Cecilia was sitting at his bedside. They were whispering in harsh tones. They immediately stopped as I entered. “I can leave.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. 

“No, no!” A smidge of desperation in Rhett’s voice. “Ma was just leaving.” Cecilia stood and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on Rhett’s forehead.

She looked at me as she left. Her expression felt softer somehow. I waited until she completely exited the room before venturing over to my usual seat. Rhett immediately extended his hand. 

“I have something for you.” His interest was piqued. “Hold out your hand.” He did as he was told and I dropped the beads into it. 

“I was getting ready to ask the nurse about this.” He rubbed his thumb over the beads and closed his hand, bringing it to his heart. 

“The EMT saved them,” I added. 

“I think they saved me.” Rhett looked at me. 

“I think modern medicine saved you.”

“Don’t go all evolution over creation on me, now,” he shot back. “You gave these to me for a reason.” He was right. I rolled my eyes and moved to press my lips to his. “Mhmm, you shut me up like that more often,” he said as we parted. 

“Based on how hard you’re roasting me, it feels like you’ll be discharged any minute.” 

Sure enough, by the end of the day, Rhett was being wheeled to the passenger door of his truck.

Once he was home, Cecilia became his caretaker. She and I did come to an understanding that included me pre-cooking meals for Rhett. I was skeptical when she extended the use of their kitchen to prepare them. However, I gladly accepted, and the very next night, we all sat down to a meal I cooked for everyone as a thank you. 

“Before we dig in, how about we say grace?” Cecilia looked at Royal, who nodded in agreement. Everyone folded their hands around the table and bowed their heads. Cecilia called my name, and I looked up to meet her gaze. “Would you do the honors, since you made this meal?”

Rhett’s hand settled on my thigh. I could feel his eyes on me. “Of course,” I agreed with a small smile, which Cecilia returned. We all bowed our heads as I said grace. Amy was the first to join me, then Rhett and the rest of the Abbotts.

“Amen.” We all said in unison. 

“Thank you.” Cecilia looked at me with a genuine smile. 

“You’re welcome,” I replied. Rhett squeezed my thigh as we exchanged looks.

Dinner felt like a dream. Or a trap. Although I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, I felt oddly comfortable. Standing beside Cecilia washing dishes while she dried them seemed natural. As if we had been doing this for years.

I was wiping down the empty sink when I saw a vehicle approaching the house. There it was: the trap springing closed. Silently, I took a deep breath to brace myself. I didn’t say a word to Cecilia. Besides, she was likely expecting Maria. 

Knocking rang through the house. Cecilia poked her head out of the kitchen as Amy shouted, “I’ll get it!” and ran toward the door. Everyone seemed surprised by Maria’s presence, but Royal politely invited her to stay and enjoy the dessert she brought. 

“Let me slice it up!” I waited for Maria to catch sight of me. “Oh, you are here.” The light left her face as she sat a pie on the table.

“Doing your best to suck up to Cece and Royal?” she added as she walked toward me. I didn’t move as she got in my personal space and reached around me for a pie server. “Excuse my reach.” She withdrew, tool in hand, and walked back to the table. 

“Just making sure Rhett gets fed during recovery.” I leaned against the sink with my arms crossed. We briefly made eye contact as she made the first incision. It was silent as she put monstrous portions on each plate. 

“Oh!” Maria feigned surprise as she looked at the empty tin. “I wasn't expecting you to be here.” She loaded pie plates on her arms and disappeared into the dining room. 

Maria came back and grabbed the final plate. “If there is any left, you can have my sloppy seconds.” She winked and turned to head into the dining room. 

As she spun around, there was Cecilia. Before she knew what hit her, she was covered in pie. “My goodness, Maria!” Cecilia looked her up and down, and then motioned for me to pass a kitchen towel. In no rush, I tossed one in their direction.

Cecilia fussed over Maria and tried to clean her up but really just smeared it more into her shirt. “Well, looks like you have to settle for crumbs!” Cecilia added as she dropped some pie bits into the waste bin. 

Maria’s eyes narrowed as she looked between us. “I said I wasn’t going to stay long, and this feels like a sign that I really should get going.”

“I’m sure we’ll see you next time we’re at the bank!” Cecilia ushered her out. While she was herding Maria to the door, I found the broom and finished cleaning.

Cecilia came back as I was emptying the dust pan. When I turned around there were two plates of pie on the table. “She practically served that pie in quarters.” 

“Thank you,” I said as I came toward the table. 

“Finding the snakes in the garden can be tough,” she responded and handed me a plate. “You can call me Cece.” 

“Ok, Cece.” I tested it out as we made our way to the dining room. Rhett pulled my chair close to his as I sat down. Cecilia watched us as she folded her napkin on her lap. 

She cast an unnoticed glance at my hand as we ate—a reminder to make sure he knew where she kept his maternal grandmother’s wedding band so he could get it resized when he was ready.

Royal ran his finger along Cece’s, pulling her back to the present moment. Her mind ran from wedding rings to homesteads. Then she had a moment where she thought about having two daughters-in-law. “Please don’t let me lose her,” she whispered under her breath. 

With that favor, she returned her attention to those around the table.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!

A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈

Tagging a few friends I've seen interact with Rhett content: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @attapullman @withahappyrefrain @sunlightmurdock @ereardon @bobfloydsbabe @sebsxphia

[my-shields-are-down]

Chenford + does he make you happy?

Lucy was wishing she had applied multiple layers of antiperspirant all over her body as she began to stress sweat with anxiety nerves.

She took a few calming breaths as she looked at herself in the mirror. Hair in place - check, top button buttoned - check. Breath - ooh, cinnamon Altoid popped. Breath ok - check. Chapstick applied - check. Ok - we can’t avoid this any more. Let’s go.

Lucy left the bathroom and weaved among the tables and carts crammed together at LA’s most traditional dim sum restaurant. No Instagram foodie influencers here. No English spoken here either. Only immigrants and their relatives, families or a father and his long-time estranged daughter.

Lucy sat down next to her dad who was refreshing her tea. She thoughtfully considered him. He was the only father she’d ever known. Her Baba. She loved him fiercely and up until she had become a cop, he had felt the same about Lucy. While her mother vocally expressed her judgment and disappointment, her father just stopped showing up. He disappeared from her life. Lucy thought he was just so angry, when in truth he was so sad.

When she was in the bathroom, he had been quietly sitting, eating noodles with tears streaming down his face - he missed her so much. She was his special light that he had to share with the world. He didn’t know how to do that and not cry. Vanessa was unpleasant about emotions, so he just removed himself and cried. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care or pay attention. He had a private eye on retainer who sent him weekly updates on his most beloved daughter. He knew of her massive success as a cop, her ever growing circle of friends, her change of address, and her impending wedding. Vanessa had thrown away the invite, but he had pulled it from the trash and saved it and spent the hours he wasn’t seeing patients looking at the red paper and running his fingers across the gold embossed English and Chinese letters.

He had just finished pouring her tea when she sat back down, nervous about their conversation. She had never been nervous with him, not like this. Patrick reached out and put his hand on hers to calm her. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the invitation and placed it between them. Lucy gasped and said, “Baba…”. He patted her hands and said, “Does he make you happy?” Lucy looked at her father and beamed. Love for Tim shining out of her eyes, her smile and her heart. She couldn’t contain her love for him if she tried. She nodded and said, “Yes, Baba, very happy.” Patrick nodded and tapped the invite, “You will wear red?” Lucy nodded, “with a dragon up the side and a band of peonies/cherry blossoms in my hair. Like the pictures you used to show me of my aunties’ weddings.”

Lucy took one last deep breath and asked the question that had been burning a hole in her gut since Tim had proposed, “Baba - will you walk me down the aisle and give me away with a blessing?” Patrick paused for a moment for dramatic effect and then beamed sunshine and love back to his little girl - for he was the one who taught her to love fully and freely, to be vulnerable and empathetic, to shower the people you love with love. He did it quietly while Lucy shouted from the rooftops. “Of course sweetheart. Because he makes you happy.”

[myimaginaryradio]

Need A Favor - Jelly Roll

[crestfallen-infatuation]

I only talk to God when I need a favor

And I only pray when I ain't got a prayer

So who the hell am I, who the hell am I to expect a savior, oh

If I only talk to God when I need a favor?

But, God, I need a favor

[gomensbrainrotsyndrome]

@zeldahime EXCELLENT!!! Thank you for sending me this (on my @fellshish account but i made this sideblog so)

I do feel the pov is more human adjacent but listening through a gomens lens adds soooo much flavour. This line drew it into the solid greens for me: ‘Hard cover King James only been savin' dust on the nightstand’ aziraphale hellooooo

[sweetbambilove]

My brain any time of day:

Ohmygodohmygod HAIL MARY

[hellwrites]

Hearing a new song and mentally matching it to multiple fictional little guys you love

Will fanwork ever come of it? Who knows...

Anyways, if anyone hasn't heard Need A Favor by Jelly Roll, go listen to it because my brain is doing the thing

[musictyme]

Jelly Roll- Need a Favor

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[holdenreviews]

Need a Favor - Jelly Roll

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[stuckinapril]

please take everything you read with a grain of salt. misinformation spreads everywhere like wildfire, and i've been having major trouble wading through false journalism to get actual updates on everything. some resources i've compiled for myself and anyone who's interested:

the global conflict tracker (israeli-palestinian conflict)

dr. ghassan abu sitta is a doctor on-site who's also been reporting about the atrocities transpiring in gaza.

also some palestinian aid orgs to donate to. if you have some money to spare/know anyone who does, please consider donating/spreading the word:

palestine children's relief fund

palestine red crescent society

medical aid for palestine

gaza emergency appeal

donate to arab.org with one click

the middle east children's alliance gaza emergency fund

help UNRWA USA reach their palestinian aid fundraiser goal

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

It's good and cool to give your characters a single simple, straightforward, non-urgent, super-achievable goal that shouldn't really cost anything or hurt anyone, make that the driving factor for most of their decisions, and then have the Plot do everything in its power to stop them.