#rebecca gaines rebecca loses

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Seven I Hits Different

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: Talk of death, angst, angst, and oh yeah, angst

A/N: The absolute love that's been coming from yall this week has made me so soft! Thank you! Enjoy this chapter ;-)

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six

When I got the call that Rebecca’s father had passed and that we would all be going to the funeral, I didn’t know exactly how to react. Daddy issues aside, what was I meant to wear? What do you say to someone who’s father passed? I was never good at these types of things.

I came late, purposefully. Trying to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. As I stood outside the church, I felt my palms getting sweaty. The last funeral I’d been to… well let’s just say it hadn’t gone well. Man, I could really use Ted right now.

I walked in quietly, trying not to attract attention. Unfortunately, the door closed much hard behind me, making a rather large noise as it closed. It caught the attention of Keely who was standing with Sassy inside.

            “Hey babes!” She greeted, reaching out her hand to me. “Welcome to the party.” I grabbed her hand and entered the group, giving her a side hug. “I thought this was a funeral.”

            “Holy shit, your tits look great!” Sassy complimented, motioning to her chest.

I looked down subconsciously, trying to fix my dress to cover up my cleavage “Oh, is it too much?”

            “Definitely not.” Keely reached up and adjusted my dress again, so it was back to how it was originally. “You look great.”

            “Oi, what were you saying about Rebecca secretly dating someone?” Sassy interrupted. I turned wide-eye to Keely.

            “Rebecca’s dating someone?” I removed my arm from around Keely and turned so I was standing next to Sassy. “And you didn’t tell me?”

            “I don’t know anything for sure, but I’m pretty sure it’s been going on for like weeks now,” Keely whispered. Now that she mentioned it, Rebecca had been acting differently. She wasn’t coming out as much or spending as much time in the locker room. It was like she was hiding something.

            “Now.” Sassy’s eyes gained a mischievous look on her face. “Is today an inappropriate day to inquire/badger her into telling us who?”

            “We’ll never know unless we try!” Keely responded, giggling. Suddenly her gaze turned warning as she looked over my shoulder.

            “Keely.” Jamie’s voice surprised me from behind. I turned around and was surprised to see him in a suit, with a shirt on underneath.

            “Jamie. Wow! Nice suit!” She greeted, turning to see him. Then as Jan and Nate approached as well “All of you. Look at you!”

I felt like my voice was caught in my throat. This was a funeral, a really bad time to be thirsting over Jamie but he just looked so damn good. I swallowed hard, glancing down at his feet.

            “And no trainers! On any of you,” I chimed in. “Making me proud.”

Jamie looked surprised when he saw me, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down and back up.  “Hi (Y/N). I didn’t see you come in.”

Ever since the night club, I’d tried to avoid Jamie as much as possible. I woke up the next morning, unfortunately sober, and remembered how lose my lips were the night before. And the fact that we had almost nearly kissed on the dance floor. Our morning practices were short and I had begun taking my lunches with Keely and Roy to avoid spending anymore unnecessary one-on-one time with Jamie.

It hurt, of course, to be away from him. I had become really attached to him and his presence in my life. I don’t know if he felt it, but to me it was like there was a giant Jamie sized hole missing.

I glanced over at the door. “Oh, yeah, I was… late, I guess.”

            “Well, you look great,” he commented. “It’s a nice… err… dress.”

            “Yes, your breasts look very nice in that dress,” Jan agreed, giving me a warm smile.

Jamie turned and smacked Jan on the back of the head. “Now is not the time to be commenting on her breasts, twat.”

            “Oh! I did not mean to be offensive.” In his defense he did look apologetic. Well, as apologetic as the Dutch man could muster. “I simply meant your dress fits you well.”

            “And Nate!” Thank God, for Keely. “Is that the suit that Ted got you.”

            “What, this?” He looked surprised by the question.

            “Yeah!”

            “Um, I can’t remember… uh, yes! Yeah,” he stumbled through his answer.

I nodded at him. “it’s a really nice suit!”

            “Another man buying you clothes is infantilizing, yes?” Jan Maas interjected, a curious look on his face. There was an awkward pause as we all tried to figure out how to answer.

            “Fucks sake,” Jamie muttered. He turned to me. “Want to go find a seat?”

I glanced over at Keely. She had heard all about that night from me and had insisted that it was a sign. She was fully on the (Y/N) x Jamie train and told me that I just HAD to confess my feelings for him in the most romantic way possible. I, however, felt like every time I spoke with Jamie, I ended up sticking my foot in my mouth.

Right now, she was giving me a not-so-subtle signal to go with him. God, why did it have to be a funeral.

            “Sure! Let’s go. Let’s go find a seat!” I said, coolly. Though not that coolly. More, oddly than coolly.  But Jamie didn’t seem to notice as he started to lead me further down the aisle. I turned back to look at Keely who was giving me a big thumbs up. As if I would confess my feelings to Jamie right now. ‘Hey Jamie, I know there’s a dead body in front of us, but do you want to make out with me and have lots and lots of babies?’ Didn’t exactly roll off the tongue did it.

He stared quietly ahead of us at the crucifix above the alter. I couldn’t read his face. I wish I could tell what he was thinking in this moment. But instead, I found myself looking over the delicate features of his face. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. I was going to burn in hell.

            “I didn’t know you owned a dress shirt, Jamie,” I decided on saying, giving him a smile.

            ��I didn’t. Had to go buy one,” he told me, looking down at his shirt. “Did you know that you can buy these in bulk for like 20 quid?”

            “Yeah… yeah I did know that.”

            “Fucking wild,” he muttered. “Had to go with Colin and Dani to a shoe store down the street to get dress shoes.”

I was suddenly overwhelmed with softness at the thought. The boys all got together and decided to come to this all on their own. They came, dressed to the occasion, to support their owner even though she didn’t ask them to.

            “Well, it means a lot,” I said, softly. “To Rebecca, that you all came.”

He looked over at me and shrugged. “Yeah well… we’s a family, ain’t we?”

He truly was a completely different person than when we first met. I knew that, but it really hit me in this moment. I opened my mouth to respond to him when we were interrupted by Spanish cursing. Dani came up from behind us, praying and cursing under his breath.

            “I hate dress shoes so much, Jamie,” he whined, leaning on Jamie for support.

            “I know, muchacho,” Jamie responded sympathetically. “Cause remembers, they ain’t made for people like us. They’re made for sheep. They’re made for Muggles. They’re made for twats.”

            “Thank you for your sacrifice, Dani,” I encouraged.

            “When I get home, I will set them on fire, and their memory will burn in hell.”

Jamie and I stared at each other. “Jesus, Dani.”

Dani looked at us, an incredulous look on his face. “Jesus has no place in the conversation of these damn shoes.”

With that he began limping forward, resuming his frantic praying. I watched him leave, feeling his pain from where I was standing.

I suddenly felt really hot and my palms began to sweat again. Then in an instant, my heart began to race as a sense of panic washed over me.

            “You alright?” Jamie’s voice broke through my sweat.

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture back in my throat. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine I just… I need to step outside.”

I began to walk off towards a side door. I turned over my shoulder and saw Jamie watching after me, concern lacing his face. Got I wanted to go back and hold him. Tell him everything that was bothering me and let him comfort me. But now was not the time or the place. Instead, I pressed on and walked outside.

As I did, it felt like I was coming up for air after taking a dive into the deep in. I covered my face as I tried to ground myself in the current moment. If only Ted was here. He would know how to help me right now.

Suddenly, I heard loud laughter. I looked around for the source of the noise and saw a back room. I wandered over to the room and saw inside Keely, Sassy, and Rebecca along with her mother and Nora.  

            “What is going on in here?” I laughed, coming in to join them.

Keely stood up and clapped her hands. “Someone is secretly shagging a footballer!”

I gave Keely a look, there was no way they were talking about Jamie and me. “We aren’t shagging!”

There was silence in the room as the women a looked at each other. Then they burst out into another round of squeals and screaming. I looked around, realizing my mistake. They were not talking about me.

            “Wait, wait, if you weren’t talking about me, then who-“

            “No, you’re not getting out of this,” Rebecca cut me off, pointing at me. “Who are you talking about?”

            “Rebecca is shagging Sam,” Keely blurted out, giggling like a toddler.

My mouth dropped. Not what I was expecting. “Wait, what?”

            “Shut it, Keely, that is old news! Tell us who you are shagging.” Sassy tugged on my arm, practically pulling out of its socket.

I waved my hands around, trying to get my mind wrapped around the situation. “Okay, so Rebecca is shagging Sam, which is true. And I’m not shagging anyone, which is also true.”

            “But you implied that you SOMETHING going on with someone else,” Nora pointed out. I glared at her. “What! I’m just saying!”

I looked over at Keely, begging for any kind of help in the situation but she was too caught up in the excitement to offer a diversion. Sassy came over and grabbed my arm.

            “C’mon, anything you say in here, stays in here, we promise, right?” She comforted looking around at the other women for encouragement. I don’t know how much I trusted Sassy though. She could be a bit unpredictable, but honestly, I felt so safe in this room with these women. And fuck it, I was having a bad day.

            “Okay…” I wavered, closing my eyes. “I have serious feelings for Jamie.”

The room broke out into screams of excitement, a thousand questions being thrown my way. I glanced over at Keely who was just smiling at me. Luckily, before I could start answering questions, the vicar came in and kicked all of us out.

Rebecca gave me a look that said We’ll talk later, and we walked out. Keely caught up to me and locked out arms together.

            “You doing alright, babes?” She asked, tugging on my arm a bit.

            “Me? Yeah. I’m doing great!” I shrugged, looking straight towards the church. “I mean who doesn’t love a good funeral.”

            “Not me,” she grumbled. “Roy’s been giving me a hard time all day. I hate death.”

I laughed. “Bold statement, ‘I hate death.’”

            “I don’t need shit from you too!” She protested, but she was smiling just as well.

We reentered the church and Keely went to join Roy. I started to make my way to the back of the church where I could sit in one of the empty aisles when I heard someone whisper call my name. I looked around and saw Jamie waving at me. When he saw he got my attention, he pointed to an empty spot next to him. He saved me a seat. My heart fluttered as I made my way over to him. He scooted down to give me a bit more room as I side stepped through the aisle past Isaac.

            “Thanks for saving me a seat,” I murmured to him.

            “Don’t mention it,” He replied. “I just got sick of listening to this one.” He pointed over to Dani who was sitting across the aisle. “I don’t know what padre he’s praying to, but I hope he fucking listens.”

I snorted, covering my mouth to keep my laugh in. Jamie smiled down at me as I regained my composure. I looked over at him and nudged him with my shoulder.

            “You’re ridiculous.”

The funeral was interesting to say the least. Rebecca gave a unique but moving eulogy to her father that contained more Rick Astley than I was expecting and afterwards we all went back to Rebecca’s place for a reception.

Somehow, I lost Jamie. He started acting weird after the eulogy, like he was deep in thought. Which for Jamie, was never a good sign. Once we got to the house, he completely disappeared from me. I instead, found myself rounding the snacks table by myself.

            “(Y/N) (L/N)!” Ted’s cheerful voice came from behind me. I was relieved to hear him. As much as he could get on my nerves with his constant optimism, right now, it was exactly what I needed. When I turned and saw him, I felt myself overwhelmed with emotion. Despite his voice, his eyes were sad.  

            “Hi Ted.” My response came out hoarser than I meant it to.

His eyes immediately flooded with concern. “Hey, you alright?” That was a question I had heard a lot today.  ‘You Alright’. And I kept saying yes. Despite the turmoil in my head about the millions of emotions I was feeling about today. About funerals. About fathers.  But hey, join the daddy issues club, I guess.

            “Yeah,” I assured him, thinking on the issue. “My dad died six months before I started at Richmond.”

Ted raised his eyebrows at me as he took in my statement. I hadn’t told anyone that in my time at Richmond. I’d barely told anyone outside my family. But I told my dad that I got my job and a month later he was dead.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” Ted consoled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. But… the funeral… it’s just…”

            “Brought up memories?” Ted offered. At my look, he let out a breathy laugh. “Join the club.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what he was referencing but I’m sure it was his explanation for showing up late today. I decided not to press further and opted instead to pass him a beer bottle.

            “To dads?” I beckoned, holding my own beer up to his.

            “To dads!” He joined. Then paused for adding. “And to the things we left unsaid.”

I held my drink for a second thinking on his words before taking a sip of my beer. As I did, I finally found Jamie. He was walking across the living room to approach Keely. Everything that had happened between us in the past few months went through my head in an instant. From the early morning practices to the encouragement during training, to the bus ride and the club. He was someone I wanted in my life for the foreseeable future. He was someone I wanted in my life permenantly.

Things left unsaid.

            “If you’ll excuse me a moment, Ted.”

I didn’t listen for his response and instead walked straight towards Jamie. I was going to do it. I was going to tell him. His back was to me as he chatted with Keely and I approached walking quickly, with a purpose. As I got closer, Is started to hear what he was saying.

            “I didn’t just come back to Richmond to get away from me dad. I also came back ‘cause of you.” It felt like all the air in my lungs was knocked out of my in an instance. Keely’s face was frozen in one of shock as he spoke to her. “I finally think that I’m becoming the best version of meself, the kind of man that you always knew that I could be.” He was saying all the right things. All the wonderful things I had been thinking about him for weeks now. He was saying all the right things, just not to me. “And I know that this is a mad, shitty thing to do, but… I love you, Keely.”

Keely’s eyes lowered a bit and finally they met my eyes. My brain couldn’t process exactly what was happening. The relationship I had created with Jamie truly was all in my head. I had created the idea that he had leaned in to kiss me that night. It was all a lie.

Before he could turn around, I left. I left as fast as my feet could take me and get outside. My palms were sweaty again and that feeling of panic that I had felt in the church returned. I finally made it out the front door and took a big gulp of fresh air. I sat down on the porch and shoved my head in my hands, trying to ground myself once again. Vaguely, I heard the door opening behind me. I knew it was Keely without even having to look.

            “(Y/N), I… I’m so, so, sorry,” she said as she sat down next to me. “I have no idea where that came from.”

            “No, it’s alright, it’s not your fault.” I felt a laugh bubble it way out my chest. “It’s all my fault! It really is.” Keely looked at me like I was crazy. “I’m used to this! I’m used to getting my heart broken. I’m used to hearing the ‘love is a lie’ speech from my friends.” Finally, I took my head out of my hands and rested my chin in my hands. “But… it just feels different this time.”

And with that the laugh left my voices as my disappointment caught up with me and it was replaced by a sob. I covered my mouth, surprised by the noise that had just come out of it. Then my lip was shaking, and my eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

            “Oh, (Y/N)…” Keely cooed.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her. I rested my head on her shoulder and let myself cry.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle

hehehehehe

[hacash]

‘Everything I do turns to shit’

Ok but I do wonder if Keeley was also thinking of Shandy in that moment (and whether this would have been a more developed thing before the rewrites), because we know that Keeley values women supporting women and that part of the reason she took Shandy on was because she wanted to be for her what Rebecca was for her, only it didn’t work out.

Knowing that the temporary failure of KJPR was always on the cards does put the Shandy arc into perspective: because after landing her dream job of becoming a boss and doing the PR thing she does best, Keeley did fail. Or, at least, she sees herself as having failed. She lost her mentee because she made the wrong call in who to take under her wing (except we know Keeley tried her best with Shandy and did the right thing in trying to help her old friend). She lost her funding because she made the mistake of making a sex tape and then didn’t apologise for its release (except we know Keeley didn’t do anything wrong and was ultimately screwed over by an unfair cultural system). Keeley lost Shandy as a friend because she wouldn’t accommodate her unprofessional behaviour. Keeley lost Jack as a girlfriend because she wasn’t the perfect upper-class arm-candy and never tried to fit into that mold. And so the danger is Keeley looks back at all that and sees herself as being the problem.

I dunno, it could have been better stitched together, but looking back it really feels like there was a common thread pulling Keeley’s arc together. Something about Keeley being her authentic self - too professional for Shandy and yet too authentic for Jack - and because of that, losing some people who she really wanted around her. But the happy thing is that she hasn’t failed, she does get back on her feet, and she gains other people like Barbara - because she was authentic and kind and that was what drew Barbara to her. And if you’re your best self, those are the people you want on your team, who will value you for you.

And then, of course, a wider arc that’s circled the entire season: that it’s hard to be your authentic self. (Oh, hi Colin.) And if you’re authentically yourself then some people will punish you for it. That’s just the brutal truth. And that will feel like you failed - like Nate leaving West Ham, like Sam not making the Nigerian League - but being true to yourself is never a failure, no matter how hard it can be. And there’s always the opportunity to get back on your feet.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Big James | To Die Is Gain | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “I’ll see you in heaven.”

The cost of following Jesus Christ is high, but it is worth everything, including losing your love.

Requested by J Bart

With a heavy huff, you lift the loaf out of the oven and place it onto the countertop, setting it there to cool. Behind you, five-year-old Rebecca chases her older sister Naomi around the already cramped kitchen, causing you to quickly intervene. “Ah-ah-ah, girls, if you want to play, go play in the living room or in the yard.” They heed your warning as you gesture at the freshly baked loaf. Rebecca hugs your leg as she looks up at you.

“Eema, can I have bread?” 

You put a hand on her sleek, dark hair. “Not yet, sweetheart. It has to be a bit colder first so that you don’t burn your mouth and tongue.” 

She hums and gives a little disappointed nod before turning to follow Naomi to the living room, where most of their toys are located. 

As you turn to wipe down the counters, however, you hear a shrill shriek from the hallway that is hard to identify. When it’s followed with the joyous exclamation of ‘abba’ in a way that can be heard on the other side of the street, you are instantly relieved. Drying your hands on your apron, you head out of the kitchen to greet your husband. 

“Shalom, darling.” James greets you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as his daughters cling to his sides. The older son of Zebedee smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Shalom,” you reply with worry in your voice, wondering what is going on. The tension in his shoulders tells you that his meeting with Matthew and Nathanael had been about more than simply catching up. 

You move to take his bag from him, but James quickly grabs it before you can slide it off his shoulder. He looks down at you, giving you an apologetic look. “I’m still going to need it.” 

Tilting your head in slight puzzlement, you watch how he scoops up his girls and heads to the living room, blowing a raspberry against Naomi’s cheek, causing both of them to giggle with joy. You stand in the hallway for a bit, pondering the interaction before heading after them.

James is just undoing his sandals while your daughters busy themselves with their handcrafted peg-dolls. He looks up and meets your gaze, his form slumping a bit. With a sigh, you walk over to him, crouching down in front of him in order to remove the laces from his footwear. He gives an appreciative hum as you gently squeeze his calves, sensing the tension in his muscles.

“You need to rest.” 

“I can’t. I…” 

“…Another ministry trip.” you finish it for him as his voice trails off. James nods, his gaze momentarily going to Rebecca and Naomi, who are oblivious to their father having to leave for an extended period of time again.

As his eyes meet yours, something stirs within you. A deeply unsettling feeling blooms deep inside your stomach, a wave of sudden nausea tightening your throat. You swallow away the lump that forms. 

Being married to one of Jesus’ Disciples is a blessing in and of itself, that He had called your husband personally as His student to spread the news about the Kingdom of God around the world. The fact that said called pupil had decided to marry you of all women was still sometimes a little bit of a mystery to you. Still, it didn’t make it easy. James was often gone from home. No matter the incredible reason behind it and no matter how proud of him you were, you still missed him greatly. 

It wasn’t uncommon for James to leave on a whim, with him throwing a few items in a bag and hitting the road whenever the Spirit compelled him to go somewhere. But now… This time, it was different. Everything in your entire being is on edge, your instincts heralding something… Heart-wrenching. You can’t quite put a finger on it. 

Your husband seems to sense something, too. He reaches his hand out for you to take, his fingers lacing with yours. 

“Love, I’ll be alright.” he reassures you. “Don’t you worry about me. Just take care of your girls while I’m gone. I just— I need to go to Judea. I— I am aware that my presence isn’t really wanted there, but you knew how Jesus went about these places. We shouldn’t be scared. You shouldn’t be scared.” 

Averting your gaze, you try your hardest to not cry. Judea. Herod Agrippa won’t have mercy on him.

You know you can’t talk him out of it, and you know you shouldn’t even want it. Still, you can’t help but want to at least address your sudden concern, share the looming dread starting to take root.

“James,” you whisper, your eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know about your trip… It is this… This gut feeling that something is going to happen to you.” 

James’ face falls into solemnity as he stands from the chair. Suddenly, he looks years older than he is; he has started to look more like Zebedee over time, but now it’s more clear than ever. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t feel that, too.” You’re not the only one anxious for a tragic outcome of his mission trip, “If only for the reason that you’d remain hopeful for my return and use that energy for the glory of God.” 

There is something definite behind his words that makes your throat screw shut. You inhale through your nose and attempt to sound strong. “Ah, Naomi.” The eight-year-old looks up from her playing session. “Go play outside with your sister.” 

“Yes, eema.” 

The girl fetches her sibling to bring her to the other room of the house, leaving you and James alone. 

“You aren’t coming back, are you?” 

Your voice cracks. James is on the verge of breaking, gazing down at you with tearful eyes. “This is your final ministry trip.” 

“I— I might just get imprisoned, you know? I’ll just be out there, which means that I can still return—” 

“I think you and I both know that Herod Agrippa won’t be so kind to you.” you whisper.

Certainty shines through in your words, as if you are absolutely sure of what you’re saying. Your husband gazes at you, drinking in every detail of your face. There is fear under the surface, strangely coupled with a sense of peace, albeit barely present. He gulps, trying to not cry as he steps closer to you. 

“My love...” he croaks, “I don’t know what to say. If you do not want me to go on this mission trip, I will see what I can do to reschedule, or—or perhaps cancel it altogether—”

“—No.” Your voice is stern and determined, “No. I will not let my own fears and selfish desires to keep you all to myself prevent the Good News to reach them, too.” 

James’ heart clenches inside his chest. He cradles your face, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he holds you. “You have been the biggest blessing that has ever been bestowed upon me, my sweet, faithful wife. Every day, I am so grateful to have a woman like you by my side. I thank Adonai for you every single time I look upon you.” His voice cracks as he lets out a sob. Emotion gets the better of you, too. You sniffle and muffle a strained wail as you bury your head into his chest, enveloped by his strong arms.

“(Y/n), do not be afraid.” 

“You know I will be terrified regardless of what you say, right?” 

“Do not weep for me. I will either return to you, or I will see Jesus again.” 

The sudden image of James coming face to face with Jesus in the afterlife thrusts grief through every fibre of your being for the briefest of seconds, before it makes place for solace. Even if the unthinkable happens, your husband will be right where he needs to be. 

“This won’t be farewell,” he reassures you, “It will instead be a ‘see you soon’, hm?” 

You smile through your tears. “How soon?” 

James can’t help but mirror it, chuckling lightly as he shakes his head. “Oh, here we go again, with ‘soon’.” It never gets old, even after more than a decade.

The two of you meaningfully look at one another in a silence that is only broken by the sound of your daughters playing in the other room. The eye-contact holds an entire legacy. Nearly ten years of marriage, two beautiful girls, a calling to preach the Gospel, the Name of Jesus over these lands, no matter how hostile their rulers. 

Your soft smile falls a little as you realise what it will mean for the next few years, at least for you. You try and shake the thought — the feeling it evokes — you don’t want to be egotistical in wanting to keep James close by, fathering your children, being the husband you need to support you. But it’s only human nature to feel the horrific arms of loneliness loom over you like a dark storm cloud. 

Something hits you hard inside your chest all of a sudden, knocking all air from your lungs. A simple realisation that hadn’t even crossed your mind before. 

“You won’t see them grow up.” 

Your legs nearly give way underneath you. You won’t be growing old with him. You will not see the greys in his beard and his hair. His hands come to rest on your elbows as James senses your premature grief.  He squeezes, conveying another message by just gazing down at you, eyes filled with love.

That is not all there is to it.

It is not the end of the story.

There will be comfort in little moments reminding you of him. Sunset at the docks. The scent of a fresh catch creeping through your window as the fishermen of the village haul their wares to the market. There will be the roll of mighty thunder in a warm summer storm. There will be cinnamon cakes. His eyes in Naomi’s features and his nose in Rebecca’s.

“You don’t know that yet, (Y/n).” James steps closer, cradling your face between his hands. You relish in the sensation, melting into the familiar warmth, closing your eyes to keep your emotions from taking the better of you. You commit it to memory — as if you hadn’t done so already. “I need you to remain hopeful. Can you promise me? That you will keep praising Him, no matter how tough life gets?” 

“I will.” you breathe as your eyes snap back open again, looking up at him. He smiles and nods, bringing his forehead to yours. 

“Good.” You slide your arms around his waist and embrace him. You stand like that for a while.

“When are you leaving?” 

“Tonight.” he tells you with a wavering voice. 

“So soon?” 

He gives you a wry smile, swallowing hard as he nods. “I can still have dinner with you and the girls.” he says. “I saw you baked quite the loaf.” 

You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I… You better bring a big piece with you on your way to Judea. We can’t finish all of that in time with just the three of us before it gets stale.” 

James exhales deeply. “I… I wish we had more time together before I had to leave again.” 

“It’s alright.” you murmur, turning to the kitchen. Your husband follows right away to assist you in laying the table. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you.” 

In silence, James prepares the table whilst you get the food out, reheating a previously cooked stew to go with the bread. He comes to stand behind you, placing a hand on your waist before his lips find your cheek, then the side of your neck. You can feel his smile against your skin when you squirm a little under his rough beard. “Your stews are the best.” your husband confesses, squeezing your hip affectionately. “Especially when you let the herbs marinate into it overnight.” 

Without asking, you grab a small container from one of the shelves and scoop some of the food into it. “For on the road.” you tell him. He gives you a gentle smile and tucks some hair behind your ear.

“You make me the happiest man alive, you know that?” 

The girls are pulled back inside by the scent of your famous stew and soon cling to your waist on either side of you, their little faces mushed against your torso and bosom as they watch you cook. James watches the scene with a bittersweet heaviness in his heart, observing the way you explain your process to Naomi and Rebecca who are one day to learn your recipe by heart. The lump that forms in his throat is hard to swallow away. 

Following Jesus is not easy, especially not in times like these, when his daughters are growing up and his wife needs him so. But James knows that it is nothing compared to the price Jesus Himself had to pay, that the price of sin was infinitely heavier than any other hardship taken on in favour of submitting to Him. The Son of God has proven so Himself by giving the ultimate sacrifice. James and you would gladly give your lives for Him. Even here, even now, when the two of you had everything you ever wanted and everything to lose. 

Naomi and Rebecca sit down in their chairs the moment you tell them to, each of them on their usual spot. Diagonally across from you sits James, already slicing up the bread into equal pieces lest your daughters get fussy over it, as if the loaf isn’t large enough to feed all of you for several days. You place the warm pan onto the table and scoop portions into the plates. 

Four of them. Your heart clenches inside your chest at the notion that it might just be the final time that you’re doing this for your full, complete family. You blink away your tears, not wanting to cry in front of your daughters at this very moment. There will be time for tears later. 

Dinner goes by way too quickly, but you notice James relishing in the taste of the home-cooked meal. Five, nearly six full years of having dinner with the four of you. Granted, there had been occasional gaps in between whenever James went on mission trips, but still. You had been blessed in and of itself regardless of how much time it covered. 

After your meal, it’s time to clean for a bit whilst the girls play in the next room. Your husband insists on helping you out in lieu of packing his bags. The silence between your is pregnant with looming tension. The Spirit tells you that this is no ordinary trip, but at the same time, He brings solace in the moment. 

You help James pack a few belongings, a fresh tunic, the food you had prepared for him. Once done, you sit in the living room together, watching your children play, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he holds you near. You relish in James’ familiar scent, locking it into your memory, praying it won’t fade from his tunics and from your home, praying he’ll come back to you to fill your home with love and laughter.

The sun lowers and every passing minute brings you closer to your dreaded goodbye. 

Both of you feel it. Rebecca comes over to cuddle her father, as if she senses something lingering, too.

“I need to go.” James heavily breathes against your ear, the emotion tangible in his voice. You swallow hard as you hear the words you hoped he would forget to say. 

“Okay.” you respond with equal earnesty, locking away the feeling of being in his arms deep inside your mind out of fear that you’d forget. 

“Come here, my darlings.” James beckons your daughters over to his side as he stands, crouching down to their level to face them properly. “Abba has to go on another trip.” 

“Nah, really?” Naomi pouts, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sits on his knee. James nods gently and sighs.

“Really. But don’t you worry, I will be thinking of you constantly. Now you two need to promise me something, okay?” 

The two girls nod at their father. 

“Be good girls for eema and listen to what she tells you. She will teach you everything she knows about life and you better learn from her, because she is the smartest woman I’ve ever met. And whenever eema is sad and needs a hug, you give it to her, okay?” 

“Yes, abba.” They both reply in near-unison.

Your vision blurs with tears at his words.

“Now I’m going to say goodbye to eema in the hallway. She will come get you when it’s time to wave at me.” 

The two children nod as they go back to their playing, not truly understanding the gravity of the situation. They expect their father to come back home, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The moment you and James step into the hallway, you fall into his arms, sobbing against his chest as the tension suddenly breaks. His lips are on your forehead as he shushes you, rocking you through your premature grief about him as tears roll down his face. “My love.” he breathes, “My love, do not remain in your mourning about me. I am not yet gone. And it isn’t said that I will be.” 

“We are both feeling it, James, I—” 

“—I know. I know.” 

He holds you as you cry. You don’t know for how long you two stand there, but your cheeks are red and raw when you’ve got no tears left to spill. You wipe your face on your sleeve and sniffle before inhaling James’ scent deeply. One last time. 

“I will wait for you.” you promise.

“And if it is what the Lord wants, I will come back to you. If it is not what the Lord wants… I’ll see you in heaven, alright?” He thumbs away your tears and looks down at you with affection and devotion. “This life is just a speck compared to what we will receive when we are back with Him. This will pass, too.” 

You try to hold onto that knowledge, tuck it away inside your heart and mind. You nod and sniffle, then hug him again.

“We will meet again,” you whisper more to yourself than to James, “No matter the circumstances, no matter the location, but this is not farewell.” 

“That’s right.” James hums, “And until then, I’ll think of you and our beautiful daughters. I’m so proud of you. Now… I really need to go.” 

You hum and step away, watching how he puts his bag over his shoulder. “Do you have everything you need?” 

He nods, cupping your cheek. “I think you triple-checked.” James knows you too well. You smile and sigh. 

“Girls? Come wave at abba with me.” 

James opens the heavy door. The stars have already come out and litter the sky. Naomi and Rebecca exit the living room and instantly rush over to their father, who hides his tears from them. “I am going to miss you so much.” he whispers with a wavering voice. “Be good, okay? Keep trusting in the Lord.” 

The two girls nod before their father kisses each of their foreheads. He then stands again, reaching for the door knob. Rebecca reaches her arms up for you to pick her up, and you hoist her onto your hip. Your other hand comes to rest on Naomi’s head as she hugs your side. 

“I’ll see you soon, my love.” James says. You smile softly at him as he crosses the threshold. Plausibly — most likely the final time he ever will. 

“Soon,” you emphasise, the two of you holding a moment of meaningful eye-contact. 

He gives you a soft look, then looks down at the girls, back up at you, before starting to walk away. The three of you watch him grow smaller in the distance. “Soon.” You murmur to yourself, your heart clenching inside your chest as you feel it start to break with every step he takes away from you. 

You hug your daughters a little closer. The price of following the Lord is a heavy one to pay. But Jesus is worth everything. In the end, it will all click into place, just like the way God had intended it to. And all you can do is trust Him in that, unconditionally, without fear.

[bradshawsbaby]

baby mine

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: been feeling very inspired by lewis rhett lately, and also in the mood for some angst, so here is where we ended up!

warnings: angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, blood, fear of miscarriage, medical crisis, rhett attempting to pray, and a little smattering of fluff

If anyone had asked you to describe your experience of pregnancy, you would have summed it up as follows:

It was easy until it wasn’t.

Your first trimester had been a breeze. Beyond a couple of queasy mornings, quickly remedied by dry toast and some fresh air, you didn’t experience morning sickness at all. In fact, you woke up every morning more chipper than usual, to the point that Rhett often checked that you didn’t have some sort of fever. He even wondered aloud over breakfast one day if you’d been getting sick in secret, so surprised was he at your perfect health.

“Not every woman gets morning sickness, baby,” you’d laughed, running your fingers through his hair as you stood over him to refill his coffee cup.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one?” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your still-flat stomach.

You were. For a while.

As the weeks, and then months slipped by, your belly grew rounder and rounder as your pregnancy progressed, all the ultrasounds and tests coming back to show that you were carrying a perfectly healthy baby girl.

“She’s glowing, Rhett,” Cecilia often commented whenever you and your husband visited the Abbott ranch for dinner.

“I didn’t even know a pregnant lady could be that happy,” Perry added one night, chuckling as he watched you and Amy playing in the living room, Amy showing you a project she’d been working on in school. “Rebecca was miserable the entire time she was carrying Amy, I swear.”

Rhett just smiled in response, like he always did. “That’s my honeybee,” he murmured proudly, catching your eye and winking at you.

No morning sickness. No weird cravings or aversions to any of your favorite foods. No major mood swings beyond what you were already used to. No massive weight gain. It was like you were walking on a cloud.

“Better watch out, honeybee,” Rhett teased one day when the two of you drove to town to grab lunch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he bent his head to whisper in your ear. “I think Katie Hamilton’s gonna make a voodoo doll of you and poke it with pins every night before bed,” he chuckled, subtly nodding his head in the direction of one of your childhood classmates. Nemesis probably would have been a more apt description.

Lifting your eyes, you glanced across the diner, where you were standing in wait for a table, and caught sight of Katie, who was glaring daggers at you. The two of you had never really gotten along, but her look was particularly venomous today.

“What’s her problem?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows as you turned to look back at Rhett. “I haven’t done anything to her. Lately.”

Your husband just laughed, shaking his head as he smoothed one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s pure jealousy, honeybee. Because you look like a damn goddess right now, and she got fat,” he smirked. Rhett had never forgiven Katie Hamilton for all the times she’d made you cry back when you were growing up.

“Rhett,” you scolded, poking him in the side and trying to hide the way your lips were twitching in amusement.

There was a strange sense of justice in Miss Queen Bee, who’d made all the girls feel miserable about their looks throughout middle school and high school, losing some of her shine during her pregnancy.

“What?” Rhett demanded, his eyes widening innocently. He laughed at your pointed look, ducking his head to kiss you. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true. Pregnancy looks much better on you.”

Truth be told, pregnancy did suit you. And you assumed it would keep on suiting you until the time came for you to deliver your little bundle of joy.

But then your third trimester hit.

It started out innocuously enough. You tired out more easily and needed to sit down more often. Your back started to ache when you went grocery shopping with Cecilia or your mama. You found yourself getting winded when cooking and setting the table for dinner.

All of it just seemed part and parcel of growing a little human inside you.

“Honeybee, sit down,” Rhett would tell you whenever he caught you rubbing at your lower back, trying to ease the tension that seemed to be lodging itself there with increasing frequency. “I can do the dishes.”

“I can do the laundry.”

“I can run to the store.”

There was nothing your husband wasn’t willing to do for you.

But you turned him down every time.

“I’m fine, baby,” you always told him, even when you had to say it through gritted teeth to mask the discomfort. “I can do it.”

“You need to rest,” he was constantly reminding you, forcing you to take a break whenever he was able to.

“There won’t be any rest once the baby comes along. This is good practice,” you usually responded, grinning as you rested a hand atop your growing bump. At seven and a half months along, it was rather unwieldy at this point.

“You are one stubborn woman, honeybee,” Rhett sighed with a shake of his head, eyeing you carefully as you carried on with your household chores.

You were determined to continue doing just as much around the house and the ranch as you’d done before you’d gotten pregnant. You could do it. You could continue to make Rhett proud, just as you’d done in your first two trimesters.

But it was starting to seem that all your good fortune was drying up and that all the discomfort you’d avoided at the start of your pregnancy was now catching up with you in full force. Maybe Katie Hamilton really had made a voodoo doll of you, like Rhett had joked that day at the diner.

The tiredness was quickly turning to exhaustion, and the slight aches were evolving into an incessant discomfort that bordered on pain. You found yourself catching your breath all the time now, clutching your belly as cramps passed through you on a regular basis.

Every time Rhett asked if you were doing alright, however, you forced yourself to smile and told him, “Just fine, baby.”

It wasn’t that you were trying to lie to him. But you knew that he was always carrying so much. It seemed as if your husband was constantly trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders. Since you’d gotten pregnant, your health and the health of the baby had been at the top of his priority list. He worried all the time, even when you assured him he had no reason to. That was just Rhett, and you loved him for it. You loved him so much, in fact, that you didn’t want him worrying himself sick over something that was beyond his control—something that you were assuming was common in this stage of pregnancy, from everything you’d read and heard from others.

Today, however, didn’t feel very common. You’d been experiencing shooting pain down your back all day, to the point that you had to spend most of the afternoon curled up on the couch, whimpering miserably to yourself in an attempt just to get some of the tension out of your body. You also felt a bit nauseous and could sense a headache forming in the back of your skull.

At this point, you knew you were just being the stubborn woman Rhett affectionately accused you of being. You needed to ask for help. You needed to tell your husband how you were feeling.

By the time Rhett arrived home, however, the sun had long set and he was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was take a quick shower and fall into bed.

“Never been so damn tired before,” he mumbled, pecking you softly on the lips before tugging his shirt over his head and trudging towards the bathroom.

You would just talk to him tomorrow, you resolved, chewing on your bottom lip as you changed into a pair of pajamas and turned the covers down. That was probably a better idea anyway. In the light of day, you’d both be more well-rested and you’d be able to get in touch with your doctor.

Yeah. Tomorrow.

Rhett was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his hair still damp from his shower, and you quickly followed suit, shifting until you managed to find a semi-comfortable position. Closing your eyes, you found yourself drifting off sooner than expected.

When you woke a few hours later, startled out of a dreamless sleep, you could feel the hair standing up on your arms and the back of your neck, a cold, uneasy feeling gnawing at your insides.

Something was wrong.

Sitting up gingerly, you sucked in a sharp breath as a fierce pain tore across your abdomen. You had to close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself, one hand resting on your belly as you attempted to swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“What is it, honeybee?” Rhett croaked from the darkness beside you, sounding only half conscious.

“Nothing,” you lied, biting down on your hand to keep from crying out as you slid off the bed. “Just have to go to the bathroom.”

Your husband simply hummed in response, already back to sleep.

Trying to quell the panic that was quickly rising up inside you, you carefully wobbled towards the bathroom, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth all the while. Maybe this was Braxton Hicks? You’d heard plenty about the “false alarm” contractions that many women faced during their pregnancies. But this didn’t feel like contractions. This felt like something much more serious.

Flicking the lights on in the bathroom, you stumbled to the counter and took in your bleary-eyed, exhausted appearance. Your face looked almost ghostly, matching the ominous shiver that suddenly passed through your body.

You clutched your stomach as another sharp pain knocked the breath out of your lungs, which sent you tottering over to the toilet. Yanking your shorts down, you took a seat and then let out a horrified gasp at the sight you were met with.

Blood.

Your underwear was soaked with bright red blood, the metallic scent of iron assaulting your nose and making you gag.

“Rhett!” you cried out, your voice tearing from your throat so violently that you were almost worried you’d damaged your vocal chords. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the awful reality staring you in the face.

Something about the tone of your voice evidently broke through the exhausted haze in which your husband had been ensnared because seconds later he was barging his way into the bathroom, looking more awake and alert than you’d ever seen him.

“Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded to know, flying to your side in an instant and crouching down beside you.

“I—I—” You couldn’t even get the words out, couldn’t bear to say them out loud. So instead, you pointed with a trembling finger, squeezing your eyes shut as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to look anymore.

Rhett followed the direction of your finger, gazing downward at the mess of blood coating your underwear and staining your inner thighs. His blue eyes widened and his face paled considerably, but he didn’t freak out. He didn’t jump up or start flailing or demand you tell him what to do. Instead, he reached up and cupped your face between his hands, his touch gentle yet insistent.

“Honeybee,” he said, his calm voice belying the anxiety that was currently making his heart race a million miles an hour. “Baby, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

You did as he said, slowly opening your watery eyes and meeting his direct gaze. “Rhett, the baby…” you whimpered, a fresh wave of terror crashing over you as you caught sight of the blood once more. You could feel that it was still leaking out of you as you sat there, staining the water in the toilet a dark, violent red.

“Sh, honeybee, sh,” Rhett murmured, his voice as gentle and as soothing as it was when he was talking to a skittish horse. “Talk to me. Keep your eyes on me and talk to me. It’s gonna be alright. What happened?”

You were grateful that he was somehow managing to remain so collected and rational, considering you felt anything but. But that was Rhett. He’d experienced his own fair share of brutal injuries and had seen plenty of blood and gore between the rodeo circuit and his time on the ranch, so these sorts of things didn’t faze him the way they did other people. Your husband was the perfect person to have around in a crisis because he knew how to handle it.

You, on the other hand, did not.

“P-pain,” you sobbed out, able to keep your eyes trained on Rhett only because he was still holding your face in his grasp, his calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “There was this p-pain—in my back a-and my stomach—woke me up—and when I-I got to the b-bathroom—so much b-b-blood,” you wailed, terror gripping you in its iron grasp.

The baby! What was going to happen to the baby?!

“Okay, okay, honeybee. I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here,” Rhett assured you. His voice was still calm, but you noticed a flash of raw fear in his eyes as he looked down once more. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital, alright? It’s gonna be alright.” You weren’t sure at this point if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

“Rhett! I need—I can’t—the blood!” you gasped out, clutching onto his arms.

“I know,” Rhett nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your knee. “I know. I’ll take care of it, baby. Just stay right here.” He carefully pulled your bloodied shorts and underwear down your legs, standing up and throwing them into the sink. “I’ll be right back, honeybee,” he promised, turning and hurrying out of the bathroom.

He was back in a flash, a clean pair of underwear and your favorite pair of sweatpants in hand.

“Alright, baby, where’d you put your pads?” Rhett asked, his eyes quickly scanning every available surface in the bathroom.

It had been so long since you’d needed them.

“In the closet, on the top shelf,” you told him hoarsely, your throat still clogged with tears.

If you weren’t so overwhelmed with fear, you might have been impressed by how quickly Rhett pulled down your pack of pads, tearing a couple of them open and lining your underwear with them before walking back over to you, kneeling down on the cold bathroom floor.

“Okay, baby, we’ll get these on and get you dressed and then we’ll get in the car and get you to the hospital,” Rhett told you, grasping your ankles gently as he slipped them through the openings in the fabric of your underwear.

As tender as your husband was being, you felt like you were going to be sick. “Rhett!” you cried, gripping his bare shoulders roughly. “Rhett, the baby! What if the baby—”

“Sh,” Rhett soothed, brushing your hair back from your face. “We’re not gonna think like that, baby. Let me help you up.”

It all felt like a blur. Like a terrible, horrifying blur. Rhett helped you get dressed before throwing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans himself. You were vaguely conscious of the fact that he was grabbing towels and a blanket, murmuring softly to you, though you weren’t even registering his words.

Were you going to lose your baby? Were you miscarrying at that very moment, the blood that was seeping out of your body robbing you of the precious baby girl that you and Rhett had been so eagerly anticipating the arrival of? Your daughter? The one you had loved from the moment you knew she existed?

If you lost her, it would be your fault.

Your stubbornness. Your pride. Your refusal to admit when something was wrong.

And now something was really wrong.

If you lost her, it would be all your fault.

“Honeybee, c‘mon, I’ve got you.” Rhett’s voice cut through the misery of your thoughts as he draped a jacket around your shoulders, one hand around your waist as he led you out of the house and towards the truck. It was already running, and you could see as you approached that Rhett had laid down a few towels on the bench. “There you go,” he murmured, helping to lift you up into the bed. Once you were seated, he reached over to settle a blanket over your lap. “There you go, baby.” Closing the door, he raced over to the driver’s side and hopped into the truck, peeling off down the drive almost before he’d even pulled his seatbelt on.

You moaned softly as another wave of pain washed over you, clutching your belly and weeping softly.

“Just rest now, honeybee. Please,” Rhett begged plaintively, reaching over to rest one hand on your stomach.

“It’s my fault,” you told him, nearly incoherent with anxiety and worry. “It’s my fault. If anything happens, it’s—”

“Hey now, no talking like that,” he told you sternly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the road despite the fact that he wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you. “Everything’s going to be fine. It will. You and the baby are going to be fine.”

Maybe if he kept saying it enough, one of you would start to believe it.

“I should have told you,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gathered the blanket more tightly around you. “I should have told you.”

Rhett glanced over at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Lay your head back and rest, honeybee. I’m gonna get you to the hospital real soon.”

The nearest hospital was well over an hour away, but with the way Rhett was driving, he managed to get you there in under forty-five minutes. You were feeling weak and exhausted by the time you arrived, so your husband lifted you into his arms, holding on tightly as he ran you inside.

“Please,” he called out, some of his calm facade cracking as he hurried to the front desk. “Please, my wife. Help my wife. She’s pregnant and she’s bleeding and she—”

Before he could even finish his jumbled explanation, a couple nurses were hurrying forward with a wheelchair, firing out directives and guiding the two of you to a room down a long hallway.

Suddenly there were doctors and nurses surrounding you, stripping you out of your clothes and laying you down in bed and poking and prodding and asking too many questions and telling you to remain calm, but all you really wanted was—

“Rhett!” you sobbed, reaching out and trying to find your husband’s hand. “Rhett!”

“I’m here, baby, I’m here!” Rhett called back. But he sounded so far away. And you couldn’t feel his hand in yours, no matter how hard you reached for him.

“Rhett!” You were hysterical now, you could feel it. Your voice felt harsh and raw as you continued to cry out, the salty tears burning your eyes and cheeks. “The baby! My baby!”

In the back of your mind, you thought you heard one of the doctors say something about sedation, but all you could think about were Rhett and the baby. They were all that mattered. They were the only ones who mattered.

Within seconds, your mind grew hazy and your eyes felt heavy, your aching body sinking into the hospital bed as your consciousness slowly floated away. Before darkness engulfed you completely, you could have sworn you heard Rhett whispering your name.

You couldn’t say with any certainty how long you were out for, but as you slowly started to come to, you could feel the early morning sunlight pressing against your eyelids, so you knew a couple hours at least must have passed. Not quite ready to open your eyes and face whatever news the doctors had to give you, you just lay there quietly, the sound of your own heartbeat rushing in your eyes.

It took a couple moments before you realized that there was a weight pressed against your side, pinning your hand to the bed. Cracking your eyes open just the tiniest fraction, you glanced down and saw that it was Rhett. He had pulled a chair up beside your bed and his head was bowed low, covering your hand and pressing against your thigh. You thought for a second that he might be asleep, but then you saw the slight shudder pass through his shoulders and heard the soft sniffle and you realized the truth.

He was crying.

Your big, strong cowboy of a husband hardly ever cried. Whenever he did, it broke your heart. You wanted nothing more than to reach down and gently stroke his hair, to offer him some comfort, but it was rather difficult to do so with your hand still caught beneath him.

And then he started talking. But you quickly realized he wasn’t talking to you, so you shut your eyes once more to give him some privacy.

“Please, God,” he rasped, lifting his head just enough so that he could take your hand between both of his own. “I know I ain’t never been much of a praying man. Not much a church-going man either. And I guess You’d be right for not listening to me now. But I’m begging You, God. Please. Please protect our baby. Please let her be okay. And please protect my wife. I love her so much, God, and if I ever lost her—my life wouldn’t mean anything if I—oh, please. Please,” he softly prayed, his head falling forward against the bed once again as he quietly sobbed.

You felt your heart splinter into a million tiny pieces as you listened to your husband’s earnest pleas and felt his tears soak into your blanket. He’d been so strong for you this whole time, but the truth was that he was just as terrified. Listening to him now, you felt yourself falling even more in love with him than ever before.

“Sh,” you murmured tenderly, squeezing his hand lightly as you slowly opened your eyes. “I’m right here. It’s okay,” you whispered.

Rhett’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice and he turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes bloodshot and heavy laden with the weight of his sorrow.

“Honeybee,” he breathed out, rising from his chair so that he could lean over you and press a soft kiss to your lips. “Oh, baby, there you are. There you are,” he whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“What happened?” you asked him in a small voice, terrified to actually know the answer.

“They had to sedate you a little bit, baby,” Rhett explained, smoothing your hair back with one hand. “You were getting real upset and they figured it would make it easier to do their exams. They ran a few tests and they’ve been monitoring you this whole time.”

“But the baby,” you said, gazing up at him with worried eyes. “What did they say about the baby?”

Was your baby going to make it?

Rhett’s expression fell slightly, which made your heart jump into your throat. “They haven’t said anything yet, honeybee. I think they’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes again. “I’m scared, Rhett,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Rhett nodded solemnly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So am I.” He ran a hand over your belly, bending his head to kiss it and then rest his cheek atop it. “Mommy and Daddy are right here, baby girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with feeling.

Swallowing the emotion that was threatening to drown you, you reached down and carded your fingers through Rhett’s hair, holding him close to you.

At that moment, the door to your room popped open and a nurse stuck her head inside. “Oh! Mrs. Abbott, you’re awake! I’ll go get the doctor,” she said, scurrying off before you could even open your mouth.

Turning to look at Rhett, you saw the fear that you had been battling all night reflected in his eyes as he lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips. He opened his mouth, as if to reassure you that it was going to be okay, but then he seemed to think better of it.

Was it going to be okay?

You didn’t think minutes had ever ticked by slower. By the time the door finally opened again, an older doctor in a white lab coat stepping into the room, you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. You must have startled slightly because Rhett rested his hand on your arm, stroking it softly in comfort.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor said with a kind smile. He had lines around his eyes that told you he had spent a lot of time laughing and smiling. It was a strange detail to notice at that moment, given the circumstances, but you found it oddly comforting. His smile was focused on you as he pulled up a stool and sat beside your bed, across from Rhett. “My name is Dr. Cunningham. I’m the obstetrician on call, and I’m the one who examined you when you came in.”

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed as you shook your head slowly.

“That’s quite alright. You had quite a shock, and things were a bit hectic when you came in,” Dr. Cunningham replied gently, his voice and demeanor putting you at ease. “We felt it was best to put you under a light sedation so that we could examine you without causing any more distress,” he explained.

You felt Rhett’s fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing gently. Your free hand moved to rest atop your rounded belly, as if trying to shield your child from the doctor’s words.

“Dr. Cunningham, please tell us. Is our baby okay?” you asked, your voice cracking towards the end. Fat, hot tears began to spill forth once more, dribbling down your cheeks and spilling off your chin.

The gray-haired doctor reached out to rest a consoling hand on your arm. “Your baby is just fine. In fact, she’s perfect.”

More precious words had never been spoken. Letting out a loud sob of relief, you turned to look at Rhett, who was already up out of his seat, reaching for you. Burying your face in his neck, you wept for joy, his tears spilling into your hair as he rubbed your back with his large hands.

Dr. Cunningham tactfully sat back and allowed the two of you to take a private moment to rest in the solace of his news.

“She’s okay,” you whispered, your lips ghosting across your husband’s skin. “She’s okay.” You said it over and over again until the words took root under your skin, in your brain, in your heart.

Rhett nodded, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “She’s okay, honeybee,” he murmured in response, reaching down to rest his hand over yours, where it was still clutching your belly.

After a couple more moments, Rhett shifted and sat back in his chair, his fingers still tightly intertwined with yours. “So what happened, Dr. Cunningham? Why was she bleeding?”

Taking on a look of deep professionalism, Dr. Cunningham leaned forward and flipped open your medical chart. “It seems, Mrs. Abbott, that you were experiencing something known as placenta previa. It’s fairly rare, but women have been known to experience it in the third trimester of their pregnancies.” At yours and Rhett’s concerned looks, he hastened to explain. “Basically, the placenta was partially covering the opening in your cervix. That’s what caused the bleeding, and the pain I’m sure you were experiencing.”

“But the baby’s okay?” you questioned, suddenly doubting the validity of that statement. “I mean, there was so much blood and—”

“Your baby is fine, I promise you,” Dr. Cunningham interjected, patting your arm in a fatherly gesture. “I ran the tests myself. Fetal heartbeat is strong and vitals look good—for both of you. I know this must have been traumatic, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. That’s what’s most important. And thankfully, your case was fairly mild as far as placenta previa goes.”

“Is it life threatening?” you asked, sensing without having to look at him the way Rhett tensed up beside you.

Dr. Cunningham hesitated a moment before answering truthfully. “It can be. But like I said, your case was thankfully on the milder side. And it’s good your husband got you here as fast as he did.”

Gazing at Rhett, you reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his skin lightly with your thumb. His blue eyes were focused on you as he turned his head to brush a kiss against the palm of your hand.

“What do we need to do?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from your face to look at the doctor. “Whatever she needs. I want to make sure that the both of them stay safe,” he said, his eyes flicking down to your stomach.

“Bed rest is key,” Dr. Cunningham emphasized firmly. “I suspect pushing your body a bit too hard may have had something to do with this. So limiting all physical activity is crucial.”

“Done,” Rhett nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “She’s not gonna lift a finger, I promise.”

“That also means no sex,” Dr. Cunningham said bluntly, looking between the two of you. “From here on out, you’re going to have to refrain from any sexual activity. We don’t want to risk a placental abruption.”

Rhett nodded again, despite that bit of news being less than enthusing. “Understood,” he said firmly. “Anything to keep the baby safe.”

“I’m also going to write you a prescription for a medication to prevent early labor,” the doctor said, looking at you. At your alarmed expression, he held up his hands. “A precautionary measure, that’s all. Everything is going to be fine. So long as you take your bed rest seriously, you should be able to have a very healthy labor and delivery—at the appropriate time.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cunningham,” you murmured, your head swimming as you tried to take in all this information.

As if reading your mind, Dr. Cunningham smiled and rose from his stool. “I know that was a lot that I threw at you. I’ll give the two of you some time to talk and decompress. We’d like to keep you overnight, Mrs. Abbott, just to monitor things, but you should be good to go tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, rising as well and holding out his hand for a sturdy handshake.

“Of course,” Dr. Cunningham nodded, smiling as he stepped towards the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call.”

As soon as he was gone, Rhett collapsed back into his chair, running his hands down his face and letting out a deep sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Thank You, God.”

Running your hands over your belly, you were startled when you suddenly felt a swift kick to your lower abdomen.

There she was. There was your baby girl.

Lowering your head, you began to sob all over again, relief coursing through your veins.

“Aw, hey, baby,” Rhett murmured, standing up and leaning over you, brushing your tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay. You heard the doctor. You and baby girl are going to be okay.”

“I know,” you nodded, sniffling. “I can feel her,” you explained, grabbing his hand and pressing it tightly across your stomach.

It took a minute, but you knew Rhett had felt her moving the second his eyes lit up and his face split into the hugest grin you’d ever seen.

“There she is,” he mumbled in awe, crouching down to kiss the spot where he’d felt her kick. “There you are, baby girl,” he said, speaking directly to her. “You gave us a quite a scare. But you’re alright. You and your mama are both alright. I love you both so much, you know that? You’re my whole world,” he told her, massaging your belly with shockingly gentle fingers.

“And you’re ours,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

Rhett lifted his eyes and captured your hand between both of his, peppering it with soft kisses.

“God, you had me so scared, honeybee,” he admitted, stroking your wrist with his calloused fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life,” you confessed in return, biting down roughly on your lower lip to keep from crying again.

Rhett was quiet for a moment, just gazing at you. “Baby?” he prompted, pulling his chair closer to the head of the bed and sitting back down. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, resting your head back against your pillows.

“On the drive here—well, I know you were upset and barely thinking straight. But you kept saying you should have told me something,” Rhett explained slowly, looking into your eyes. “What was it, honeybee? What should you have told me?”

You lowered your head at his words, shame blazing through you. Dr. Cunningham had said you’d been pushing yourself too hard, which had probably contributed to this condition. Why hadn’t you just been honest with your husband? Why had you tried to keep your troubles from him?

“Baby, please. Talk to me,” Rhett begged, stroking your hand gently.

“I—I should have told you that—that I’ve been struggling these past few weeks,” you confessed, your voice tinged with guilt and regret. “I felt like everything was going so smoothly, and then as soon as my third trimester hit, everything caught up to me all at once. I was tired all the time, and sometimes I would get this terrible pain in my back. And it was hard to do all the things I normally do around the house.”

“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me?” Rhett demanded, looking hurt that you’d kept this from him.

“I—I’m sorry that I didn’t,” you apologized in a small voice, chin trembling. “You asked so many times if I was okay and I should have just been honest with you. But…I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?” Rhett pressed, lifting your hand to his cheek. “Don’t you know you can tell me anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you nodded, a few salty tears streaming out of your closed lids. “I know. I do know that. But I didn’t want to worry you. And you just—you seemed so happy, you know? So proud of the fact that everything was going so smoothly with my pregnancy. That it was so easy.” You shrugged your shoulders sadly, voicing out loud the truth that you hadn’t wanted to admit. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Rhett sucked in a breath, his eyes widening as he looked up at you. “Oh, baby,” he breathed out, practically knocking his chair backward in his haste to stand up and take your face in his hands. “Baby,” he said again, kissing you softly. “You could never disappoint me. Never. I’m so proud of you always. Did you really think I would be disappointed that you were having a hard time?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “I just—I wanted you to be happy.”

“Honeybee,” he said gently, stroking your cheek. “I’m happy when you’re happy. The only reason I was so happy that your pregnancy was so easy is because I hate watching you suffer. It had nothing to do with me being proud of you or not,” he said firmly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m so proud of you. So, so proud. Especially after all this.”

You started crying in earnest at his words, the floodgates of your heart opening as you let loose all the worry and anxiety and stress you’d been feeling lately. Rhett just held you and let you cry, rubbing small, soothing circles on your back.

“I love you so much, honeybee,” he whispered, resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you, too,” you told him, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you sat together in peaceful silence for a while, the soft hum and beeps of monitors the only sounds in the room.

“I’m sorry, Rhett,” you finally said, your voice a little hoarse from all your tears. “I should have been honest with you. I put our daughter’s life at risk because of it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, shaking his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “No blaming yourself. She’s okay, and you’re okay, and that’s all that matters,” he insisted, kissing your forehead.

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you again,” you vowed, resting a hand over one of his and stroking the back of it with your thumb.

“You can always tell me everything, honeybee. Always,” Rhett promised you, lowering his forehead until it was pressed against yours.

“Everything?” you asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Everything,” he nodded.

“Okay, well in that case—I’m a little bummed that we can’t have anymore sex until after the baby comes,” you said, your eyes twinkling as your mouth curved up in amusement.

Rhett blinked a couple times in surprise, then threw his head back laughing. “There’s my honeybee,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Truth be told, I’m a little bummed, too,” he grinned.

“You really going to hold me to that bed rest rule like you told Dr. Cunningham?” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You bet your ass I am, you stubborn woman,” Rhett shot back, arching his eyebrows pointedly.

You laughed aloud at that, poking him affectionately. “But I’m your stubborn woman.”

“That you are, honeybee,” Rhett smiled, running a finger along your wedding band as he took his seat beside you once more. “That you are.”

[taylortruther]

maybe I’m crazy and maybe I can't explain my point very well, but for me there's a part of tolerate it and so long, london that kinda talk a little to each other in the sense that one is thought and the other is action/aftermath

in tolerate it, all the music is a thought, she thinks about leaving, thinks about the weight of it all, reflects on what it would be like to leave but she won't and and in ssl she has already decided that she is going to leave, she is tired and now she is letting her thoughts out

you assume I'm fine but what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins, took this dagger in me and removed it, gain the weight of you then lose it, believe me, I could do it // so how much sad did you think I had, did you think I had in me? how much tragedy? just how low did you think I'd go? before I'd self-implode, before I'd have to go be free

(using "she" just to represent the narrator of the song, not necessarily taylor since tolerate it was inspired by rebecca and my point here is more comparison of the lyrics)

@wavesoutbeingtossed and i have been yelling at each other about this all day! it absolutely makes sense.

[sturnsyaper69]

Too much for you.

☆~ Chris and y/n meet for the first time at a carnival, were chris, and his brothers Matt and Nick were meeting up with a group of friends that brought more of their friends along. Later in the night, you and Chris build a strong bond, and you end up losing your viginity to each other that night. But you never thought you would see him again. Right?....

Warnings: swearing, smutt, pet names, virginity loss, drinking, drugs, unprotected sex, p in v, making out.

ALSOO BEFORE YALL START THIS IS MY FISRT SMUTT PLEASE GO EASY ON ME ALSO NOT THE BEST AT SPELLINGG

Your eyes light up as you step foot in the carnival. Your vision is filled with flashing lights and loud music screams and sounds of people having fun. The air was warm and smelt of corn dogs and cotton candy. "Holy shit this place is fucking huge" Cody let's out loudly. Cody has been your friend for as long as you can remember since primary, but oh, was he a character. he loved girls smoking and sex and he wasn't afraid to hide it. I giggle at his remark as he smiles at me. "So y/n what ride you eyeing up?" I point at a roller-coaster and begin yapping about how fun it looked "and- Cody Cody?" I say turning around to see him eyeing up a girl in a revealing outfit I roll my eyes "well looks like I found my ride for tonight" he says winking at me before walking over to her "Hey baby" his voice fades into the distance "okay nick texted and said there paying now" Kaleb says Kaleb is also gay say I asume him and nick would have somthing in commen. "Good I don't wanna wait here all fucking night" Rebecca snarls "oh shut up they won't be long" mya whines in meet with my other friends giggling and talking.

"Oh there they are," Kaleb says, putting his phone away as they approached us. I stare at them, walking over it was dark, and I couldn't see their full faces. "Oh my godd kalebb," nicks whines, giving Kaleb a big hug before chris and Matt dap up tjay and Cody basically most of the boys there. I have met Nick but not Matt or Chris before. I smile at Nick and hug him "hii nickk, I love you outfit." He smiles and looks at me "thanks y/n your fit look so cute!" he says smiling before wondering off. I see Matt walking up to me and I smile the lights bright so I see his face he was very handsome I mean nick was so they all where probably. He smiled and me. "Hey y/n? Is it?" Matt asks, giving me a hug "yeah! It is, and Matt? Is it chris?" I say giggling, not sure "yeah it's Matt. " Haha, he giggles before being called over to Rebecca. I hear a whine in the distance.

"Hmm?" The lights turn off, and everything goes black again. I see a figure walking up to me. "Oh hii nick is that you I can't see anything" his figure walked up to me stopping in front of Me he was tall and had a wide frame in golfing mine as he moved towards me as soon and I saw his figure I knew it wasn't nick or anyone I already mett "it's chris sweetheart" my heart kind of skipped a beat at his voice I gain my words back "ohh right sorry my mind went blank" I say giggling as he moved closer to me "oh its fine just a mistake" he say hugging me tightly. He smelt fresh, clean and had a fucking delicious Cologne on. I felt him breath in heavily he almost whispered slightly "mhm you smell nice, like candy " he says, chuckling slightly breaking the hug as he took a step back the light slowly turned back on and I almost fucking collapsed. He was the hottest boy I had ever seen in my life. His eyes were an icy blue, and he had perfect lips that sat so nicely. I wanted to kiss them right then and there. He had a silver chain that sat under his neck. His cheek bones tense as his eyes widen. His eyes trace over every inch of my face. He swaolled deeply as his Adam's apple strained through his neck, and his jaw clenched. I looked away, trying not to make the situation awkward, but he didn't look away from me. I felt his eyes scan me like lasers, that burnt right through me. "Fuck." He mutters just quiet enought for me to hear "what's wrong.. I know this is kinda awkward" I say looking up at him seeing him walk closer towards me "nothing I haven't been better your.... so beautiful" I blush slightly "thanks you chris you are very handsome yourself" I smile cheekily "come on let's go on a ride" he says smiling taking my hand as we giggle and run towars the rides.

Hours go by of me and chris having fun and building connections. We all leave and are in the nearly empty parking lot. "That was fucking amazing" nick says to the whole group "I don't know about you guys but tonight's just getting started "Matt say while holding Rebecca's waist before kissing her neck "yeah im not going home anytime soon" chris chimes in smiling at me "I mean Im down for yall to sleep over?" Kaleb says "YESSSS" Nick yells, and the whole group yells in excitement. "yayyy, you can sleep over, chriss!!," i say exited "YAAYYYY" chris says, tickling Me slightly, going hyper like he did all night. We all hope into our car, and Nick chris and Matt go into there's. "See you soon y/n" chris says smiling at me, as he hops into his car. We arrive home, and we all hope out. It's clear Matt and Rebecca are love birds, and they rush inside making out and go into Rebecca's room, slaming the door shut. I turn to chris and luagh he rolls his eyes "disgusting" he says pretending to throw up. I laugh at him "your so funny, chris," I say, and I walk up to the door as he holds it open. "After you malady," he says before walking in after me.

It's getting late, probably about 12:50, but you and Chris are still hitting it off. You guys have a lot in common, like loving animals and music taste. You guys watched the conjuring and ate a bunch of snacks. It's now 1:49 a.m., and you guys just stopped playing gta and fortnite. I luagh at one of his jokes as he smiles at me deeply "you know I really Like you y/n I feel like we're really building deeper connections" chris say meaningly I smile at him warmly "me too Chris I really love your personality and skmthing about you is beautiful. Not just on the outside but the inside, too. " Chris's eyes widen, and his hand rests on his chest."Whoa. No one has ever said something , meaningfully to me. Thank you so much, y/n." He smiles beautifully his teeth white as pearls as he stands up "arnt you getting tierd" he yawns "noo but we can go in my room if you want" I say "yeah im not tierd I just want to go to your room" he giggles.

Me and chris are lying on my bed when his phone dies he puts it on the dresser "tonight was fun as fuck" he says turning to me "yeah it was and it seemed like Matt and Rebecca really blew it off" I say smiling at him "he giggles "yeah she definitely blew it off" he laughs "so immature" I say nudging his giggling at his joke. After a while of silence "y/n"

"Yes chris?"

"Can I ask you a question. A personal one."

I swallow deeply, looking at chris to him, already looking at me. He smiles softly before his face drops back to a serious look.

"Yeah what is it"

"Have you ever.. like, have you ever had sex?"

My eyes widen as he says this. I stutter, "I never have.. have you?" I say, looking at him

He's already staring at me I turn away once again trying to avoid making ot awkward but his I can feel him staring at me "No I haven't ither" he says still staring "look at me y/n." I turn back to him being meet with him burning gaze "can I ask you a question" I say staring ar him "yeah you can ask me anything" he says staring intensely at me "have you ever kissed a girl before" he smirks and chuckles "yeah I have alot actually" he winks at me "what about you?" I smile slightly."No one, I've never really done anything like that. " he looks at me."What about porn. Do you watch it?" He says with his hand holding the headboard. His expression looked restless, and he never took his eyes off me. "I mean sometimes," I say, biting my lip giggling "whoaa dirty girl," he says, nudging me as he moves closer to me. "y/n." "Yeah.." I say, looking up at him. His lips above mine. "Do you want to lose our virginitys to each other?" I can't say anything but moan in response. He smirks and his lips come crashing down onto mine as he collapses ontop of me his legs squirm recklessly as his tounge plunges deep into my mouth cuasing me to moan loudly but he keeps going grinding his tounge on mine enjoying himself. His lips moving with mine I grind my tounge onto his and he groans his eyebrows furrow and he moans into my mouth and his hands touching me all over. he breaks the kiss gasping for air "baby tell me what to do to make you feel good" he says taking his shirt off then mine admiring my bare skin. His fingertips run along my cool skin. "Just please touch me please" I say begging him my hands all over his chest as he growled he dropped low and kissed my stomach making me whine my body covered in goosebumps. He stared up at me as he slowly took my pants off then my underwear leaving me in just a bra "come on sit up let me see your beautiful body" he says unhooking my bra with one hand as his other one support my back. My bra dropped leaving me fully naked. He groaned as he kissed my nipples I whined and squirmed. I felt a cold hand trail down my theigh near my aching core. gasping and whining as he sucked on My nipples his fingers trailed over my wetness and I moan his name loudly never feeling this amazing before "tell me when it feels right baby" he says before kissing me on the lips once more slowly pushing a finger into me as I moaned loudly "mhm I know sweet girl I know" he says before slowly pumping in and out of me a girn on his face as he sees how in control he is of me. My mind is blank and the air is getting harder to breath each thrust. And before I know it im screaming as he's kissing my neck giving me hickeys, ilwhile finger fucking me roughly and 2 of his long thick fingers stuff fucking raw. "Fuck.... chris I I'm gonna c-cumm" I whine as he pulls his fingers out of me I look up at his as he frantically unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans and boxer revealing his large hard cock. I moan at him as he pulls me to the end of the bed and smacks my theighs "open up honey I've watches enough porn videos to know what to do baby" he winks before lining his dick up to my wet pussy "tell me if it hurts too much okay gorgeous girl" he say kissing me on the cheek as I nod. He pushes the tip in as i whine softly biting my lip he pushing deeper chasing me to squirm moaning. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. I'm limp and mouth wide open as I groan before moaning as he slowly starts moving the pain turns into good as I let out moans loud satisfied moans "mhm f-fuck" chris stutters his hands tremble as he grips the side of my hips "ahh this feels s- fuckk" he picks up speed and soon feel a knot in my stomach as I my moans become louder and louder before. "Fuckkk I'm cumming so hard for you chris" chris groans and spills into me with a loud groan and unsteady breaths and he shakes and brings me into a kiss as we both make each other feel good.

Chris pulls out with a grunt before laying beside me breathing heavily and kissing me on the cheek wrapping his arms around me "ill never forget you y/n"

3 years later....

Part 2 coming soon....

GUYS I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT FUCKING MAKING THIS AND I GOT LAZY BUT ILL POST PART 2 TOMORROW PLS COMMENT IDEAS IM NEW HELP

[jor-elsemissary]

Can’t Stop Loving You p4

The Press Room was stifling. There were too many people and it was far too bright for his liking. The majority of people in the room were men and women who would gladly tear him to pieces with their questions and scathing column pieces if it would sell papers and get them a pulitzer. Though, out of all of those present, at least he can trust Lois Lane to be honest with her inquiries even if they were hard questions to answer.

“Mister Luthor,” piped up said reporter from The Daily Planet, legal notepad in hand and pen tapping at her lips as she finished formulating the question in her mind. “Some people are saying that the only reason you are leading the recovery and rebuilding efforts in Metropolis is because of the government subsidies and lucrative contracts that LuthorCorp will be entrusted with for the next ten years. It is estimated that your company will gain a profit in several billion dollars. What do you have to say in response to such speculation?”

Leave it to Lois Lane to question his reasons for restoring their city. Right now he wished he was anywhere else than here. Preferably on the way toward Martha’s townhouse to pick her up for dinner. Thinking about the red-haired senator had his mind wandering before he realized it was wandering. It took him a few moments to regather his thoughts and focus on the press conference. His fallacy in composure hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others and he heard Lois call to him again. He only hoped that it was perceived as hesitancy to answer rather than losing focus.

Lionel cleared his throat and put on a smile, “As you are aware, Miss Lane, no venture—whether it is charitable or business—comes without some kind of profit made or lost. LuthorCorp would prefer to gain rather than lose, but any profits we do obtain from this is merely an added bonus. I and my company have the resources and familiarity to help Metropolis regain its splendor and glory, and it only makes sense that we lead the rebuild efforts. Metropolis is my city. I grew up and lived there my entire life, and it pains me to see the death and destruction brought to it by these alien invaders. If I can help in any way, then I will.”

“Is it also true then, that Senator Kent asked you to help?” Lois threw out there before any other reporter could ask their question next. The cameras in the back started snapping at a faster pace and Lionel tried to blink away the multiple flashes. He wanted to say yes, that Martha had called him up to discuss about helping the city and her people, but he would be lying. He hadn’t spoken to Martha since she had broken up with him months ago, no explanation as to why or if he had been at fault. The pain of their break up must have bled into his expression for he could hear concern in Lois’ voice as she pressed him, “Mister Luthor?”

“Whether Senator Kent asked Mister Luthor for his aid is irrelevant,” Rebecca came to his rescue, gently guiding him away from the podium so he could make a discreet escape. “The fact remains that Lionel Luthor and LuthorCorp are helping the city at a great cost to the company’s reserves. LuthorCorp intends to see the reconstruction and rescue efforts through to the end.” He subtly checked his watch and noted the time. It was rush hour and he would be lucky if he made it on time to Martha’s place.

With one last glance toward his personal aide, thanking whatever higher power there was for her, Lionel quietly left the press conference and headed out of the East Wing of the White House. It took him only a matter of minutes to reach where his limousine was waiting and be on his way toward Martha’s townhouse. He glanced at his watch again and noted how much time he had and muttered a curse under his breath.

“Ron?” he called to his driver.

“Sir?”

“Is it possible for us to avoid the congestions and reach Martha’s place on time?” Lionel asked of the man. Ever since he had hired him after losing Alex, Ron had proven to be quite reliable, a fighter and very loyal. It was hard to come by employees with that kind of work ethic, especially toward wealthier clientele.

Ron was silent for a moment while he messed with the nav-screen. After a moment more, he nodded in answer, “Yes, sir. I believe I can get you to the Senator’s place in time.”

Pleased at the answer, Lionel leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as he tried to relax after a long day. He tried to think about anything else but Metropolis and even Martha, but his thoughts eventually wandered back to her and the dinner that they were about to have.

He wondered how she has been since she broke up with him, one of many questions he knew he would ask of her once they met again. He also wondered why she had in the first place. He had thought long and hard over the following days and weeks as to what he might have done or said to have her break things off, but he could not come up with anything that would have warranted that kind of reaction from her.

So he started digging instead.

He had his personal detective look into her activities, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t something extreme as blackmail that forced her to leave him. But the man had found nothing out of the extraordinary other than Martha being appointed to a committee that oversaw the country’s various black operations. It was possible she had learned something LuthorCorp was involved in that she didn’t approve or maybe a threat to his or Clark’s wellbeing, but again it wouldn’t be enough to make her leave him.

Martha would have worked things out with him if that had been the case.

Lionel glanced out the window of his limousine and stared aimlessly at the buildings and people outside as they passed them by. The vehicle slowed to a stop at a traffic light and his attention was drawn to a shop filled with various flowers. He realized that he needed something to give to Martha to help break any ice that was between them and he knows a gift of flowers always works with women.

“Ron, stop here!” he told the man and immediately opened the door before the driver could respond to his demand. Lionel stepped out of the limo and stared across at the flower shop. He heard the car move, Ron having no choice but to continue with the flow of traffic. Lionel was confident that he’ll loop around and be back in time to pick him up.

Until then, he had to pick out a bouquet that Martha would like.

He headed into the shop, pushing the door open with a jingle of bells to announce his presence to the owner. Immediately his senses were assaulted with the fragrances of the various blooms and he was grateful that he was not allergic to pollen or the perfumes they gave off. But he was overwhelmed by how many bouquet arrangements there were.

Lionel found himself rubbing at his right hand, pressing into the tendons of his palm more out of a nervous habit than pain these days. He had no clue as to what to get her and how she would take them. He knows she once had a garden at the farmhouse and she planted all sorts of flowers but he couldn’t remember for the life of him which ones she had picked to decorate her home with.

A clerk soon came from the back with a smile on her face. A dark skinned woman with a thick mane of hair done up in a braided bun. She wore a flowery shirt and simple blue jeans underneath a green stained, apron that had the name Mal tagged to it. She was taking off a pair of gardeners gloves by the time she reached him. “Hello! Welcome to Malory’s Flower Bouquet. What can I do for you?”

He found her customer service to be a little overbearing, perhaps the fake smile she wore unnerved him more than the greeting. But he didn’t let it bother him or judge her for it too much. It was her job to be friendly even when she didn’t feel like it. “I am looking to purchase a bouquet for someone. I… uh, have no idea what she likes but I want it to be meaningful.”

“For a wife or girlfriend?” she inquired and he was a little perplexed that she didn’t recognize him or maybe she did and she was just being polite.

“Girlfriend,” he supplied and then quickly added, “Former. She, uh, accepted a dinner invitation and I am hoping to reconcile.”

“I see,” the woman said and turned toward her arrangements, disappearing among them. “Are you at fault?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did she break up with you because of something you had done and you want to apologize?” Malory elaborates from behind several roses of various colors.

“That’s the thing… I don’t know if its something I did. She never said.” Why was he telling her this? All he wanted was a bouquet to give to Martha. “Why do you ask?”

“Well if you want to be meaningful, you need to understand why you are doing it and what you want to say to her with them,” she explained. “What do you want to say?”

“I…,” Lionel paused to consider the question. What did he want the flowers to mean? He knows roses are about love and desire, he’s given plenty of those. He certainly loved Martha still and he did desire her, but he didn’t want her thinking that’s all she was to him. “I don’t know. I love her. I want her back and… and whatever it is that upset her I’m willing to work things through if she’ll let me.”

After a minute Malory emerged from the arrangements and she had in her hands a bundle of various colored tulips. “Tulips are romantic, Mister Luthor.” So she did recognize him then. It surprised him that someone was being nice and didn’t want to insult him. “The red symbolizes love and pink is affection.”

She brought the bundle over to her desk and laid them atop of a stack of brown paper. “White tells her you wish for forgiveness and worthiness, that you wish to reconcile with her.”

“I… was not aware that tulips were that symbolic,” he confessed as he watched her wrap the flowers into a simple bouquet arrangement that he can easily carry.

“Not many are,” Mal tells him and brings the flowers over to the till to check him out. “Unless your girlfriend is familiar, what I told you is more for your sake than for her. She’s not likely to know what they mean unless you tell her.”

Lionel gave a small laugh, “Oh I’m sure she knows. One of her close friends back home was a florist too.” He knew Martha and Nel were close friends, something he had learned many years ago when he had been unfaithful to Lillian and had a brief affair with Lana Lang’s aunt. He was confident that Martha knew her flowers through her and from gardening.

He accepted the flowers after paying for them in cash. They looked appealing and smelled nice, their fragrance wasn’t as overpowering as some of the plants there. He hoped Martha would like them and understand his intentions for tonight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you need any more arrangements, please consider us for business.” He nods to the owner and then makes his way back out onto the street.

As predicted, Ron was patiently waiting with the limousine and with the passenger door open for him. He ducked into the car and carefully set the bouquet down beside him. Ron closed the door behind him and resumed driving his boss to the Senator’s place.

Lionel would occasionally glance at the flowers and ponder the meaning of them. He deeply loved Martha and admired her a great deal. Although the break up had come out of no where for him, blind siding him even, he couldn’t let her go. He had tried and all his efforts did was lose a good secretary and end up with one that reminded him every day of what he was missing.

He had been an idiot to think he could replace Martha with a facsimile. His vindictiveness only ended up hurting himself and put a good woman in an awkward position.

He hoped the florist was right and that Martha would understand the meaning of them. He wanted this to work out.

He wanted Martha.

Lionel leaned against the window of his door, resting his head against it as he let his thoughts drift to the good times he had with her.

———

The limousine soon pulled up to a line of old, brick townhouses with oak trees in front of them, their branches providing shade over the sidewalk and the street. The homes had black, wrought iron fencing that protected what little yard they had in the front and the small walkway leading up to the doors. Some of the homes had decorative, garden flags, and most had at least the American flag gently swaying in the small, winter breeze. Snow had yet to fall and blanket the place in its wintery embrace, but Lionel could see icicles having formed on the gutters, tiny pinpricks of droplets caught frozen in time until they broke off or spring came first.

Ron stopped the car in front of one of the houses, a white brick home nestled in between two others. He doubted a sheet of paper could fit in between the walls separating the townhouse. He could see a little bit of Martha on the outside of the home, the small garden she planted beneath the windows had a little bit of Kansas in them, hardy blooms that could withstand the cold. They weren’t blooming yet, their buds still closed but he suspected they would show their beauty soon enough.

In a way he felt that was how their relationship was. Closed but waiting to blossom again when the conditions were just right to do so.

His door opened when Ron stepped up and Lionel sat in his seat for a moment longer as he tried to gather his nerves. How long had it really been since they had parted, since they had last spoken to each other? Despite what had been said at the press conference and in the newspapers, they hadn’t spoken since the breakup. Rebecca had been the intermediary between them the few times he wanted to talk to her or Martha wanted his help on rebuilding the city.

A small smile creeped onto his face when he realized that was how Rebecca knew he needed Martha still. He should give her a raise for the trouble he had probably put her through these last few months since he hired her. The poor woman was probably fed up with him pinning over Martha by now.

Lionel reached over for the bouquet of flowers and stepped out of his car. “Hopefully we won’t be long, Ron,” he tells his driver and the man nodded in reply. He started for the small gate that barred unwanted visitors from entering the small property, found it was not locked and lifted the latch with a gloved hand while he held the flowers in his other arm.

The few steps to the door felt like an endless trek and when he finally stood in front of the mahogany door, he suddenly found himself fighting a nervousness he hadn’t felt since they first started seeing each other well over a year ago. He took a moment to take several deep breaths to force his anxiety to the back of his mind and take control of the moment.

He was a Luthor. He had more nerve wracking business deals than this. He can handle meeting a woman he cared about and was deeply in love with.

He can do this.

Before he allowed his insecurities and anxieties get the better of him, Lionel reached out and pressed the brass plated doorbell and waited. He stood waiting outside and swallowed back the nervousness as he caught sight of a shadow beyond the frosted glass pane beside the door. A moment later the door was opened and the woman who has haunted his dreams for the last several months finally stood before him in all the beauty and allure he remembered.

He wanted to stare in awe at her, remembering the first time he had seen her dressed up and how amazed he was by her beauty. They had been friends back then, but he had known then that he would do anything for her. It didn’t matter if she returned his feelings or not. This was a woman he had wanted and the usual lust he would have felt for any other woman was only a passing thought in the back of his mind.

Lionel smiled happily at seeing her. So thrilled was he at seeing her he hadn’t quite caught on to her expression until she forced herself to smile. He felt a pang of insecurity and disappointment creep up his spine and knew his own smile had faltered a little. He realized that she wasn’t all too happy to see him like he was with her. Had he been any other man, he would have given her the flowers and apologized before walking away.

But he wasn’t any other man and he wasn’t going to let her go so easily. He made the mistake of doing so the last time and he was not going to this time. Either they got back together or she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He won’t lie to himself that it won’t hurt, but even he wasn’t so foolishly in love to continue something that couldn’t be.

“Hi, Lionel” Martha had quickly greeted him and stepped back to invite him into her home.

The fact she hadn’t barred him from entering was promising and gave him hope as he stepped inside and he nervously held out the bouquet of flowers to her. “Hello, Martha,” he greeted but the smile he wore began to fade when she hesitated to take the flowers. Perhaps he was wrong into believing he could win her over after all if she wasn’t very receptive to his presence and gift.

He wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t hurt. He very much felt like he was being stabbed in the heart by her reluctance. He tried to tell himself that whatever it was that had her break up with him in the first place must still be fresh for her and that was the only reason for her reactions toward him.

Lionel just wished he knew what it had been so he could help her and so he could understand.

Martha finally accepted the flowers, out of politeness he knew, and brought them over to the kitchen. “You looked well at the press conference,” she offered small talk and he gladly accepted the distraction from the growing tension between them.

“Hardly,” he answered and watched her as she put the flowers in a vase. Lionel kept his distance from her, choosing to give her space rather than be in it himself like he wanted to. He wanted to touch her then and there, just to feel her warmth under his hand and take in the comfort of her presence near him. He wanted to smell the fragrance that was uniquely her’s and he wondered if she still wore the same perfume, the very bottle he had given her as a gift in the early days of their relationship.

The desire to be next to her was overwhelming and it took everything he had to respect her decisions and choices about their relationship, and start things all over again. He didn’t like it and he knew it was in part stubbornness from them both. He loved her too much to invade her personal space and she, he wanted to believe, she was just being stubborn about the truth of their breakup.

“Between rebuilding Metropolis and handling stubborn politicians,” he continued and did his best to keep his bitterness out of his voice. “I am exhausted. Its a wonder I haven’t collapsed from the stress.”

“You’re a businessman,” Martha reminded him and turned to face him once she had the flowers nestled beautifully on the kitchen island. “You thrive best in stressful situations.” Except when breaking up with the woman he loved. Except when facing her again months later wanting to know why and hoping she would take him back.

He was, internally, a nervous wreck right now and it probably showed on his face. “Yes.” So he cast his gaze downward and clasped his hands behind his back to control his emotions and give him some semblance of a grounding. When he looked back up again and saw a genuine, warm smile, Lionel couldn’t help but smile back and felt that hope he had from moments ago be renewed.

“Shall we?” I’m sure you’re quite hungry, I know I am.” He held out his hand to her and was pleased when she didn’t hesitate this time to accept and let him tuck her arm under his. Lionel led her out of her home and waited for her to lock the door before leading her down the small path, through the gate and to the waiting limousine where Ron stood with the passenger door open.

His driver smiled warmly at the Senator, no doubt pleased to see her and Lionel had to wonder if all his staff was conspiring to get them back together somehow. If they were, it would be a story to tell should their efforts pay off. He found he couldn’t be angry or upset that people were conspiring against him on this.

Lionel stepped aside and let Martha enter the car first before he followed behind her. She settled across from him much to his disappointment, but he had to remind himself that they were not intimate with each other right now and this was, essentially, a first date all over again.

Once Ron had the limousine pulled back out onto the suburban street, Lionel tried to start up a conversation with her, “So, how have you been?” He doubted she would tell him the truth or give any clue as to why she had left. A part of him did not want to know, afraid that it had been him as to the reason why she had left; but a part of him did want to know so he could fix things.

The uncertainty was a cloud that was hanging over them, threatening to downpour and ruin things forever between them. He didn’t want that and he needed to decide now whether he wanted to know or not.

“I have been well.” He watched her carefully and knew it was a lie. He could see the stress of work creased around her eyes and at the corners of her lips. But there was something else that was bothering her and he suspected he was the reason for it. His sudden appearance in her life must have reminded her what had troubled her back then. “So this restaurant you’re taking me to, tell me more about it?”

The question was a distraction meant to keep him from prying into her life. He debated on whether he should ignore the question and press her for more. To do so would cause her to close up and he knew from experience that she would keep things close to her until she was well and ready to tell him. He needed to coax her into being ready sooner without making him look like he was prying too hard.

So he’ll answer her question and wait. He was patient. He had waited years for her to be ready to explore who they were to each other, he could wait a little longer to find the truth and get her back. “Its a small Italian hole in the wall I found a few years back when I was lobbying Senator Burke over some environmental issue involving LuthorCorp. It was surprisingly good and the ambience was welcoming, and dare I say it, romantic the few times I brought someone with me.”

“One of the many women you charmed into your arms?” It was a simple, innocent observation of what she knew about his life, but it sounded accusatory and disapproving to his ears. He knows Martha would not judge him for his past lifestyle, so why did it leave him feeling unsettled and needing to be mindful of what he said to her? “I noticed you have a new personal assistant.”

Lionel blinked at how quickly the subject turned and he wondered where this was going. He was quiet while he studied Martha, noting how she nervously knotted her gloved fingers and how she would not look at him. He frowned a little as it dawned on him what was meant by her statements and he wanted to laugh. But he refrained from doing so, knowing it would only be demeaning and further cement her assumptions.

“Rebecca?” he mentioned with a tender, reassuring smile. “She’s a good secretary. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” he couldn’t help but say and that got her attention. Martha snapped her gaze to him and he felt the scornful glare, but he ignored it. “You needn’t worry about her, Martha. She’s engaged to another woman.”

“Another woman?” Martha looked a little confused but it gave way to a calmness that secretly signified she was relieved. He wondered what she thought he had been doing with the woman? Granted, he had foolishly, and a bit spitefully, chose Rebecca because of how much she looked like Martha and had tried to seduce her—failing spectacularly at that too—but once it became clear she would never be interested, he saw her only as an employee.

“A lesbian,” she commented and then the smile that he so adored found its way past an insecurity he hadn’t been aware Martha had, had. It gave him some insight into what she thought of him and was feeling. If she could feel upset at being replaced, she still felt something for him. That she still wanted him but whatever it was that made her leave was a barrier between them.

“Yes,” he chuckled softly. “Imagine my surprise when she told me about her engagement.” He returned her amused smile with his own, pleased that he could still get her to smile. “It certainly put a damper on any thoughts of seduction.”

Martha rolled her eyes at him, “But that is what you were trying to do when you hired her? What happened to Janet?”

Lionel sighed at the question, “I… didn’t take our separation well and drove her into quitting. It’s the same reason I hired Rebecca. Martha, why? You never told me, only that it wasn’t working out. What had I done?”

He hadn’t planned on asking her now before dinner but the conversation had led to this and he really wanted to know. “Please let me fix things.”

“You can’t fix this Lionel,” he heard the hitch catch in her breath. He furrowed his brow when her hands covered her stomach. His eyes widened as he realized what had happened.

“Martha…”

“I had been.”

[haggishlyhagging]

There was no point in women putting their faith in men, argued [Rebecca] West, not even socialist men, because there was a conflict of interest between women and men, and men would simply 'protect their own' in the face of any threats from women. The unapologetic declaration of war, the unabashed insistence on it as a necessary and just war is a characteristic which marked Rebecca West then and now. The withdrawal of male approval - a weapon used effectively against women for a long time - appears to have made no impression on West who continued to mock male values and to expose the false nature of male 'protection'. That she did this so openly, unashamedly, and in the spirit of moral responsibility may have enraged many men but inspired many women.

Every aspect of man, and man-governed systems, was grist to her mill and week after week she wrote her stinging and sparkling articles: ‘Every man likes to think of himself as a kind of Whiteley's - a universal provider,’ wrote Rebecca West in 1912 in the Manchester Daily Despatch (26 November). 'The patriarchal system is the ideal for which he longs. He likes to dream of himself sitting on the verandah after dinner, with his wife beside him and the children in the garden, while his unmarried sisters play duets in the drawing room and his maiden aunts hand around the coffee. This maintenance of helpless, penniless, subservient womanhood is the nearest he can get in England to the spiritual delights of the harem.'

In the interest of making this dream come true she explains, man has thought of a multitude of reasons for paying woman less - even when she does the same work - for how else is she to be enticed into giving up her own life in order to serve a man, if not by financial necessity? But because many women want to lead their own lives, and because they can see that no pay and low pay makes marriage compulsory, they have started demanding better pay and the option of earning their living in occupations other than marriage. This is a perfectly reasonable and just demand, states West, but one to which men are likely to react with irrationality and rage - thereby unwittingly revealing the extent of the esteem in which they hold women and the unmasked nature of male chivalry and protection! When ‘womanhood declares,’ says West, ‘that she is no longer helpless, dislikes being penniless, and refuses to be subservient, the men become indignant and inarticulate,’ and find themselves caught in a contradictory position.

They have two areas they wish to protect - in their own self interest - the home and the workplace, and when 'only by the fear of starvation are women coerced into having husbands,' then starving women into marriage means among other things, paying them low wages. Unfortunately, however, men also want to maintain their monopoly on employment and they have to confront the unpalatable fact that lower paid women are often more attractive to employers than higher paid men, with the result that ensuring wives may necessitate the risk of losing jobs. Hence their irrational, inarticulate protest, states West, for men want both wives and jobs.

Equal pay for equal work was just a matter of plain common sense to Rebecca West: women's needs are no less than men's, and women's freedom to choose paid work or marriage - or both, as men had been doing for many a year - was no less precious. And if men were only sensible about this she argued, they might begin to see that they had something to gain as well, for once the compulsory element was removed from marriage, once women were permitted the same job opportunities as men, women would be more likely to choose a companion than accept an employer; ‘if there is to be any romance in marriage,' she wrote, 'woman must be given every chance to earn a decent living at other occupations. Otherwise no man can be sure that he is loved for himself alone, and that his wife did not come to the Registry Office because she had no luck at the Labour Exchange' (ibid.).

The male capacity for logic, however, appears to be severely limited for neither then nor now have men shown themselves to be convinced by the reasonableness of the case, and they give every sign of ending the century in the way that they began it - by paying woman less. Despite the passing of legislation such as Equal Pay Acts most sources (including the United Nations' statistics on the position of women) indicate that the gap between women's pay and men's pay is growing greater every year. Men still control the world's resources (more then 99 per cent of them according to United Nations' statistics) and therefore can still exercise control over women: seventy years has seen no significant change in the distribution of wealth between the sexes.

-Dale Spender, There’s Always Been a Women’s Movement This Century

[christian-oc-tournament]

I wish I had more art, but I suspect there's only so much this box will allow.

ANYHOW. This is A'den -- Dr. A'den, a hattarin daktlyc from the desert planet of Hasra more than twenty light-years from Earth. Despite his intimidating appearance, A'den initially decided to try keeping a low profile upon joining the human Paradisio Project -- an interstellar cooperation orbiting Hasra from an interconnected fleet hovering at the edges of its atmosphere. Yet A'den could not keep either the truth of his position nor his growing appreciation for his small human coworker a secret for long.

A'den initially resented Doctor Rebecca Brown's presence. He viewed their assigned partnership as an insult by those who saw him as unworthy, and he saw her as a shy, airheaded girl of a woman whose silence indicated either a lack of knowledge or a sense of contempt towards him. Yet when Rebecca called him out on a mistake he made without either insulting him or backing down, he learned beneath her fear -- for she was initially terrified of him -- that she possessed a mind to match his own. For her part, unlike his smooth-faced, "elevated" kin, Rebecca saw A'den as a man worthy of respect and dignity. He grew protective of the short, sturdy botanist after learning that her own position in Paradisio was not as secure as it seemed, and over time, their friendship deepened. Both would admit that of the two of them, he cared for her as a lover before she had fully realized her own feelings on the matter.

Yet the truth of A'den's position endangered them both.

(Above: A'den during his five-year survival training on the moonlit sands of Hasra. He clings to a cliff as, in the distance, the vague form of a Silver Angel barrels past, breaking the sound barrier. Who knows what the Unfathomable Machine will carry out that night...?)

Unknown to the Paradisio Project and most of the Hasran Alliance, A'den was a member of the Exalted, a black-ops survival unit dedicated solely to carrying out the will of the Silver Angels. Those eighty-foot flying machines had genetically pruned or uplifted, exterminated or guided the daktlyc race since the desert planet's earliest days. Under the Angels' orders, A'den had overseen and carried out the extermination of entire cities, glassing them at the monolithic machines' orders with hardly a second thought. Yet if Rebecca had seen him not as cursed, then what did that mean for those he had slain?

(Above: A'den's Exalted armor, which he wore to Hasran Council meetings to observe and announce the Angels' will to those who soon bayed for his blood.)

A'den's love for Rebecca Brown incurred the fury and jealousy of her possessive overseer, the Ambassador. The Ambassador and the Hasran Council conspired to have A'den killed in ritualistic combat, but this failed. However, it exposed A'den's position to Hasra and Paradisio, revealing both his status and the danger the warrior-survivalist posed. As Rebecca and A'den grew closer, his so, too, did his concerns about the supposed benevolence of the Silver Angels and Paradisio as well as the truth of his race and history. As Rebecca's own tormented past grew to the light, A'den renounced the Silver Angels, determining to fight for both the elevated who had once sneered at him and the hattariin he called kin. He follows God as revealed through Rebecca's own stumbling exploration of Christianity. He encourages Rebecca to stand up to the malevolence of the Paradisio Project and overcome her past, and she reminds him that he is loved and worthy of dignity. At the end, they marry, and though they both lose more than they feared they could even gain, Hasra, A'den, and Rebecca are all forever changed for good.

[Original poll for A'den here! Please vote for him in Round 2 and wherever he may go! And do let me know if you have other questions or would like to yell at/with my characters alongside me, I have. So much lore.]

.

[1-up-chump]

The magneto fankid that will not leave my heart. Everyone meet

Rebecca Lehnsherr

Extraordinary birth, Ordinary girl! Rebecca was born from Metamorpher (aka Dawn Palmer) after Metamorpher was experimented on by Mr. Sinister and mutated into an uncontrollable monster that would absorb all in its wake. After turning back to normal and safely separating from many various people (including the x-men and magneto) an extra being was created from the separation. A 9 year old girl, with DNA matching Dawn Palmer and Erik lehnsherr, Magneto.

Rebecca is fully human, having no x-gene at all. Which is an odd case considering both her parents are omega level mutants. Regardless, she is still not safe from discriminatory behavior. Nor any less of a target due to her relations, and theory that her genes may still hold to key to an "ultimate mutant"

Because Rebecca is human, she feels alienated by her father. Although, due to his undying love and fear of losing another human daughter, he distances himself from Rebecca. Thus causing a misconception in the girl's mind that her father must hate her, even thinking that he plans to kill her if she is not considered to be "useful"

Because of this, Rebecca is considered "ambitious, charismatic, intelligent, dramatic" and highly skilled at keeping up their "strong and bright" facade. But behind this lays an anxious, but gentle girl who adores the macabre and philosophy. And has a fondness for beetles and other various insects.

Has a strong relationship with her half-siblings, but especially Pietro. Who feels especially protective over his little half-sister.

Also has a strong relationship with Dawn, but occasionally have moments of discontent. Despite reassurance, Rebecca doesn't believe their mother when they tell her that Erik doesn't resent her for being human.

Rebecca feels insecure being a human despite "having privilege". They long to have any sort of power or ability to do more, and thus are attracted to any opportunity to gain it. To "win" her father's affection and admiration (to which she already did just by being born)

Her hair is naturally that color and no one knows why. Must be in the genes of having great hair

[meet-me-backstage]

⎈

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦇 Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🦇 You get dragged into the unfathomable events at Starcourt Mall by your hopeless crush on Billy Hargrove and new-found middle-schooler friends. You struggle to cope with the trauma which gradually costs you your popular cheerleader reputation when you return to high school for senior year. Though this loss first appears to be the end of the world, you learn that there's worse things than levelling down in popularity.

Though even in darkness, there is always a light - for you this is Eddie Munson, who you gain an unlikely friendship in and fall for him in the process.

𝑳𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🦇 smoking, mention of and consumption of drugs, horror themes, violence (in the upside down and probs Steve losing another fight (•̀ᴗ•́)و jk jk he's king), nightmares, mention of and consumption of alcohol, death, bad language, blood, bullying, mention of vomit and vomiting, mention of and near death experience, some domestic (mainly verbal and emotional) abuse(‼️), mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide, mention of self-harm, allusion to eating disorder and smUUT so you must be 18+ to read this story❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 🦇 2.9K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 🦇 horror themes, nightmares, bad language and domestic (verbal and allusion to physical) abuse.

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⎈ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫

🦇 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 🦇

You are sat on your bed, staring at one of the corners of your bedroom, more specifically, the corner with a little pink chair that currently has Eddie's bandana hung from the back of it... you’d caught yourself doing it a lot, staring at it or holding it because all you could think about was your encounter with Eddie in the woods seven days, one hour, five minutes and thirty-one seconds ago.

It scared you... how easily I opened up to him, how easily I broke... how I listened... how I believed him... how I wasn't... terrified of him now I knew there were worse things than Eddie Munson and the Hellfire Club.

Your legs nervously bounce up and down as you think about his advice, you fiddle with your hair and realise you are face to face with your vanity desk across the room. You turn away and look down... I can’t even look at myself in the mirror or in any reflection because I remind myself of my sister, being the spitting image of her and all...

You pick your head up, purposefully avoiding eye contact with your vanity desk - a place you hadn't sat at to do your make-up or hair for a whole month.

Your boom box is on the floor, cassettes everywhere and clothes hanging out of your draws - it had been a mess for a while... mom didn't know because I locked the door at all times and she hadn't bothered to pick at the lock because let's face it - she didn't want to see me. I am doing her a favor and she had become so hellbent on staying downstairs awaiting Rebecca's impossible return... they never found a body, but only a handful of teens, including me, knew why.

Knock!

Your head swiftly turns towards the source of the noise and boom, your heart jolts and your body jumps at the sight of a shadowy figure at your window, an eye peeking through your curtains.

You steadily move off of your bed and reach underneath it for your handmade catapult and stones... you had it there for protection because of what you’d seen at Starcourt, the curse of Hawkins, all of the visions you’d had recently that felt so real... it convinced you that it was still here in some sort of supernatural form, the Mind Flayer, "I hope you're ready for my wrath, asshole," you mutter under your breath as you place a stone into the pouch you made out of a little necklace bag.

You slowly reach for the curtain, your heartbeat gradually building up in pace as you squint your eyes shut and abruptly swing it open and aim the catapult, pulling the pouch back and opening your eyes...

Eddie?! A completely soaked Eddie is at my window.

His brown eyes are wide with shock at coming face to face with your catapult and you are shocked at coming face to face with him. You gasp before looking behind you and then quickly shoving the window up, "You scared the hell outta me!" You whisper in a shout as you lower the catapult, his eyes are fixed on it still.

With one brow higher than the other, he looks up at you, "Well you scared the hell outta me - aiming that lethal thing at my head!" He whisper shouts back and gestures to the catapult with the hand that isn’t holding onto your window ledge, "Why do you even have that anyway?"

You drop the catapult to the floor and cross your arms, "Why are you here?!" You keep glancing behind you, conscious of your mom potentially hearing the commotion.

He looks at you with a deadpan look and his bottom lip pouted, "My bandana."

"Are you serious?!" You huff.

"Mhm... I waited a week in the woods - every night for you to show up with my beloved bandana - but you never came sooo," he gestures at himself, crouched on the small bit of roof leading to your window, "I got tired of sitting in the rain so I decided to take matters into my own hands."

Your mouth is hung open as he speaks, but you keep your arms crossed to stay stern, "How do you even know that this is my window?"

"I didn't," he shrugs before a sudden cheeky and toothy grin forms on his lips as he stares up at you, "S'pose it was a lucky guess huh?"

"You can't be here, Eddie," you whisper with a serious and worried tone, looking over your shoulder again.

Eddie tries to follow your gaze at the door before looking up at you, realisation spreads across his features, "I'll be out of your hair once I have it ba-achew!" He sneezes loudly, sniffling and wiping his nose after, making you glare at him, "Sorry," he whispers sassily.

He's going to catch a cold - if he hasn't caught one already... and it would be my fault. "Quick - get in before I regret it, Munson," You state in a rush, backing away from him as he climbs into your bedroom, making a thud sound on the floor when he lands, "Shhhh!"

"Sorry!" He repeats in another whisper, lifting himself from the floor and standing up straight, making squelchy noises because of his damp clothes and shoes.

You fiddle with the fair hairs on your arms in complete silence and look at Eddie in disbelief... he is in my room, no boy, not even Billy had been in my room - only Mason has... and he's my brother. Eddie, once he'd gotten his bearings, bowed his head and refused to even look around, fiddling with his fingers - not a sound but the raindrops landing on the roof and faint mumblings of the television downstairs could be heard.

You are both silent - nervous.

"Y-your um - bandana is there," you point at it, but then look at his dirty sneakers... carpet stains, "I'll get it," you blurt suddenly. Eddie looks up finally, watching your every move anxiously as you pick up his bandana and walk towards him. A part of you didn't want to part with it, you look down at it endearingly before shyly glancing up at Eddie, who is still looking at you, examining you... your cheeks suddenly heat up, "H-here," you hand it to him before rubbing your tired eyes.

Silence.

"'S probably a stupid question but I'm gonna ask anyway," His eyes flicker between your eyes, gently taking the bandana from you, your fingers brushing "Are you feeling better - after our talk?"

You sigh softly and look down, rubbing your eyes more.

He purses his lips, still watching you closely and you grow more and more anxious by the second, "No offence, but you look like you haven't slept in years - decades even," he states with a playful undertone, but you can tell that he means every word.

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes, "Decades - really?"

"I'm serious," he chuckles softly, his cheeks pinkish, "How long has miss moonlight gone without sleep?"

It takes every fibre of your being not to roll your eyes again, you cross your arms, keeping your lips sealed - he mirrors your actions and crosses his arms too and you give in... you roll my eyes and visibly deflate in defeat, "Not since that night - in the woods," you mumble, "I've sorta been - stopping myself - from sleeping."

He tilts his head, confused, "Why?"

You shrug, "Nightmares," you can’t help but visibly shiver at the thought of the most recent one you had.

He blinks at you, "Y'know, I'm all for embracing fantasy - but Freddy Krueger isn't real-."

"Shhhh!"

His eyes widen, his mouth agape, "Oh - maybe he is-."

"Shut up!" You whisper shout, glaring at him, "I'm serious, Eddie," you place your hand over your heart, frowning as you feel everything inside you just sink, making you feel light-headed. He clearly thinks I'm a joke, that I am impossible to take seriously because I can't explain the depth of my situation. "You - wouldn't - understand a-nyway," your knees buckle as the severity and heaviness of what you’d been holding in became too much... Eddie quickly steps forward and catches you by your elbows.

"Woah," he keeps a hold of you for a few moments and everything in your body feels numb... apart from your elbows, where his hands are - you quickly shake your head and move your arms away from his grasp, "Er - m-aybe you should - s-it down somewhere," he mumbles unsurely.

You speedily turn away from him, embarrassed and you fall onto your bed into a sitting position, your legs crossed, "My sleep schedule is none of your business."

He can’t even look at you sitting on the bed, he grows shy and looks like he wants to vanish into thin air, "I-I know - I just-."

"Why do you care?"

You’d annoyed him, his face turns into what looks like frustration, he places a hand over his eyes and sighs, "I've just been thinking about you a lot, m'kay - I know it's not my business and you don't like me even a little bit but - I make it my business to look out for others," he rambles, shaking his head.

"So I'm now a pity case, huh?" You huff, "I don't know why I opened up to you, Munson - I really don't, but just because I did, it doesn't mean we're now gonna be best buds and skip towards the sunset, singing - 'Rainbow in the Dark' together," you spit the words out so fast that once you’re silent again and the mental image of you and Eddie with linked arms, singing Dio on field of beautiful flowers, invades your brain... you look up at Eddie, who is biting his lips together in attempt to stop himself from laughing, "It's not funny," you lean forward and playfully slap his arm, giggling.

"Hey," he whispers, little giggles leaving his lips, "it is a little bit funny," he brings his hand up, gesturing 'little' with his ring clad fingers. “Besides, I think - ‘Lonely Is The Word’ - Black Sabbath - suits us better, don’t you?”

Why isn’t he running for the hills after being pushed away by me so much?

You stare up at him in wonder, his cheeks are puffed up while he grins cheekily.

Is he flirting with me or is he as lonely as I am? I’m gonna go with the latter.

When the silence becomes too loud for him he looks over his shoulder at your open window before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder while looking down at you, "I’d - better um - go then?"

"No!" You blurt suddenly before quickly bringing your hand to your mouth and look at your door, frightened, "S-sit," you point at the end of your bed and manoeuvre yourself so that your back is pressed against your headboard.

Eddie looks startled and sheepish, his usually fidgety self is as stiff as a plank of wood... he exhales, trying to calm himself down and he steps forward before hissing in shock as he almost trips over your basketball in the middle of the room, "Jesus Chr- I'm - okay," he sighs before carefully sitting at the end of your bed, his hands in his lap.

You bring your legs closer to your upper half and rest your chin on your knees, "Maybe that was karma - for making fun of it - calling it the 'balls in laundry baskets' game," I giggle softly, mimicking his voice and trying to ignore the fact that your heart is beating so fast... this is wrong - Becky would've snitched on me, mom probably would hit me again... this feels very rebellious… I kinda like it.

Eddie's mouth is practically zipped shut, he side-eyes you at every single minuscule movement you make and fully turns his head when he sees that you’re reaching for your duvet and pulling it over you.

"Could you - I - I don't know - stay until I fall asleep?" You whisper softly, guilt flowing through you for even asking. I need to shut up. You hide your face behind your duvet and peek past it to see that Eddie's eyes are big, he looks hesitant. I should've stopped myself from asking when I had the chance.

He exhales shakily, "S-sure."

You’d never seen him so shy, usually he was jumping on tables or confronting bullies - he played metal guitar in front of the whole of middle school, parents, teachers and students at the talent show without a care in the world... "You - don't have to s-tay, Eddie."

"No - no, I'll - stay," he stutters, nodding his head eagerly and blushing.

"Okay," you mumble, watching him... you feel warm, a sense of comfort in your bedroom that you hadn't felt in a long time because finally, you aren’t alone... though out of everybody you knew, you certainly weren’t expecting Eddie Munson to be here right now to comfort you.

The shape of his silhouette stays visible as your eyelids flicker and slowly open and close. Though you are quickly and very easily falling asleep, you notice Eddie take a look at your room and take a particular interest in the pinboard you have hung up on your wall above your headboard - where you’d pinned your 'Ozzy the Tiger' notes from Billy.

Eddie sort of... smiles triumphantly at them, but you are too woozy to address it and your eyes feel heavy, you are falling asleep - peacefully… finally.

"Night-night, miss moonlight."

You are running now, your heart is pounding against your chest and your muscles ache.

Brimborn Steel Works is in the distance and you come to a halt when you look over your shoulder and see that nothing is behind you... you aren’t being chased by the Mind Flayer - you breathe heavily and bend over slightly to rest and to hold onto your thighs.

You visibly relax as each second goes by - you’d outran it after a month of trying unsuccessfully, you laugh breathlessly, thinking it’s all over.

You are so wrong. You couldn’t have been more wrong... all of the organs in your body feel as though they are sinking as a shadow comes your way and towers over you.

Your first port of call is Eddie - immediately you think of him because you feel so comforted by him suddenly. You run in the direction of the trailer park... your face scrunched up in pain, your knees buckling every so often.

Sobs leave your lips as the realisation that you can’t outrun this monster sets in... it just keeps hovering over you, moving with you.

You try not to scream when it sends it's tentacles for you, attaching themselves to you as you continue to try and run, but it is getting harder and you are getting slower. Your limbs are being pulled upwards and you look down, realising you’re in mid-air, levitating from the ground.

'Did you think you could avoid me, little miss thief.' The demonic voice, "You're mine," it says as you’re being pulled up, about to become Mind Flayer bait, but you feel yourself being shaken before you can merge with it - then suddenly you’re falling a fifteen foot drop to the ground.

You scream at the top of your lungs, kicking your legs violently, trying to get away from... Eddie?! Who is holding onto your wrists and hovering over you slightly with a terrified look on his face, "Holy shit - Tink!"

Your eyes are wide, your chest heaving as you begin to sob loudly... I can't get away, I'm losing my mind, I don't know what's real and what's not. Eddie's grasp on your wrist gets less tight, his hand is shaking and his lips are trembling, "It's okay, I promise - it's just a bad drea-," his thumb traces over the roughness of the scar on your wrist and he looks at it closely, a frown on his lips as he squints his eyes.

You hear your mother shout for you, then the thudding of her footsteps coming up the stairs getting louder and louder.

You physically cower, wishing that you had a shell to crawl into - the sound of your mother’s voice making you sob louder and tremble and you snatch your arm away from Eddie's grasp, who is looking at you completely dumbfounded, blinking profusely, not knowing what to do.

Your door rattles violently as your mom twists the handle and tries to open it, "Let me in!" Her voice sounds just like the monster that haunts you every night.

"G-go - away!" You sob, desperately trying to push Eddie off of your bed, "Leave me alone, please!"

Who am I even talking to? Mom? Eddie? The Mind Flayer?

Eddie jumps away as the door rattles more violently this time, he'd tried to stop you from pushing him away... he stood still in the middle of your room, he stares at the door with big eyes as your mom hits the door, "Don't you dare talk to me like that you good for nothing excuse of a daughter!" Eddie's face fell more as he drags his eyes away from the door to look at you, realisation spreading across his features and sadness in his big eyes.

You quickly pick up one of your pillows and throw it at him as you scream, "Go - go - goooo!" You continue to sob while you pick up your pillows and throw them in a state of emotional frenzy until he's gone... you quickly realise that the aim of my outburst had been at your mom, not Eddie, when there's nothing but emptiness, loneliness and continuous sounds of your bedroom door being jolted and sobs leaving your lips.

The door suddenly clicks at a particularly harsh jolt at your door from your mom, who bursts into the room and strides towards you with a horrific look on her face, moving as fast as the Mind Flayer’s tentacles… you brace yourself, hiding your red and swollen face between your knees and wrapping your arms tightly around your legs.

⇝ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚

@sadbitchfangirl @ali-r3n @hostedparties-and-starvedmybody @kores-mun-son-n-more

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts @emma77645 @seatbacksandtraytables

⎈

[kayssweetdreams]

The Perfect Finale Ch29

Meanwhile, Back in Wonderworld...

Yin was INFURIATED. Not only did he still not know where Wonderworld's heart was, but now he couldn't even return to the real world and find the pink haired brat. He mentally kicked himself. He may have despised the Wonderworld for kicking him out, but he never thought that the theater would actually collapse in on itself. Now it would be impossible to go after them.

He took his anger out on the Tower of Tims, reducing it to nothing but a pile of rubble. "Now Yin. Be patient. They'll have to come back eventually..." Prim said in a monotone voice. He glared at her, but she did have a point. Those who lived in Wonderworld couldn't last long outside of the theater. Sooner or later, they'd have to find another way to get back in. "You're right. In the meantime. I think a little redecorating is in order..." He said, his eyes glowing red once more...

Meanwhile, Back at the Montgomery Home...

Everyone paled at Project X. It would seem that Yin's lust for power had now trickled its way into wanting to control the real world as well. "If I thought that Yin wasn't bad before. I do now..." Haoyu muttered as he gazed at the blueprint for the Purifier. "Well. Let's not lose ALL hope! He still needs the heart. Something of which he still can't find." Emma said.

"Yeah, but WE don't know where the heart is either. And even if we did. We can't get back into Wonderworld right now, with the theater being...out of commission." Yuri said, wording the sentence carefully around Balan and Lance, who were still mourning the loss of the theater. "Um, Guys." Kaylo started, but it was drowned out by Lucy "Darling, even if we could get back to Wonderworld, we're still dealing with a bloodthirsty Yin, who would very much like to destroy us." she said.

"Guys..." Kaylo said again, but once again, her voice was muted by the sound of Cal mentioning "Not only that, but Balan and Lance are no longer maestros, but humans. So we have no way to tip the scales in our favor!" he said. That's when something awoke in Kaylo. She couldn't tell whether it was her own emotions, or the recent events causing her to lash out, but she found herself screaming out

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!!"

In that shout, something extraordinary happened. The room that they had all gathered in had completely transformed into a wide-open field. The group looked on in awe. The only time that had happened was when they were in Wonderworld. It didn't only effect the room as well, as those that lived in Wonderworld felt power surge through them like never before.

The Tims grew fluffier and started chirping with joy, The Negati's symbols began glowing and pulsating, the costumes powers all activated at the same time, the Negabosses actually returned to their normal sizes and forms, even Balan and Lance briefly returned to their true maestro forms. The humans looked in awe at what had happened, when Mei noticed something was happening to Kaylo at the same time.

Her normally pink eyes turned rainbow and gained red music notes, and her pink hair grew longer and fluffier, all the while a rainbow aura surrounded her. Just then, it all stopped. The room returned to normal, and the costumes once again couldn’t use their abilities, as Balan and Lance turned human again. Everyone in the room slowly turned to Kaylo, who's eyes and hair returned to normal as she took a deep breath.

"What I wanted to tell you is. I have the heart of Wonderworld."

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane belongs to @lovelyteng

Aria belongs to @shadowqueen402

Lora Jade belongs to @alex-frostwalker

[imtrashraccoon]

A bit of a shorter chapter this time but it works for what I pictured. Yes, those names are slightly referencing my Nightmare x Reader fic that I'm working on lol. Dust is a creepy stalker still, what else is new?

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Judgement

Word Count: 1,477

Your snow boots were keeping your toes nice and warm as you made your way home from work today. It had snowed the night before and while the sidewalks were mostly clear now, there were a few snow drifts from the street plows here and there. It made the gray city slightly more pretty in your opinion, even if it also made walking more treacherous.

"Hey! Is that you, ...?"

You looked up when you heard your name to find four women approaching you. You instantly recognized them as several of the girls that went to the same high school you did, although you only vaguely remembered each of their names. Cathie...? Rebecca? Marcy? You couldn't seem remember the fourth girl's name though. They looked like they were dressed to the nines as if they were going out on the town after work - even their snow gear was cute.

With a sigh, you greeted them and tried to act pleasant. Truthfully, you didn't have good memories of any of your previous interactions with these women. They'd all been "best friends" and always sat together in class or at lunch. Anyone who didn't fit into their little click, for whatever reason, was unworthy to be friends with them. To top it off, they were all gossips and you had been just one of their many targets back then.

"It's been so long, hasn't it?"

"You haven't changed a bit... Well, that's a lie, you've gained weight apparently."

"Are you seriously wearing the same coat from senior year?"

"I heard you work at that corporate office down the street. Didn't you want to go to college to be a psychologist or something?"

You hadn't even managed to get a word out, other than a simple hello, before they predictably started in on you, specifically pointing out things you couldn't change. So what if you'd gained some weight? You'd been borderline anorexic during high school for crying out loud! And what was wrong with wearing the same clothes for years if they still fit and were in good shape? New ones were expensive and you just so happened to like your current sense of style!

"You're all as lovely as I remember," you muttered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important places to be than listening to the opinions of trash."

You sidestepped and managed to scoot around the group. Although, it seemed that they weren't content to let you have the last word and as you started to walk away, they followed and threw out some more judgemental comments.

"Wow... You're still as snotty as ever, huh? Grow up!"

"Your face matches your personality!"

"Did another man come to his senses and dump you again?"

"Your mother was right, you know!"

You clenched your fists and forced yourself to keep walking at a brisk pace. They'd lose interest eventually as they always did. If you didn't know better, you'd be tempted to throw a punch or two, but you really didn't need an assault charge on your record.

There was movement up ahead to your left and when you looked up, you were surprised to see none other than Dust stepping out of the alley. He met your eye and silently motioned for you to follow him.

You didn't hesitate and quickly stepped into the alley with him. The bullies were far enough behind that you might be able to give them the slip if you were fast enough. However, your hopes of making a clean getaway were dashed when you realized that the alley was a dead end up ahead.

Before you could ask why he'd brought you here, Dust gripped your right arm tightly and leaned in close to you. "close your eyes for a moment," he hissed.

You knew he wasn't going to bother waiting to see if you did so to execute whatever his plan had been and so you did as you were told. Almost instantly, you felt a numb sensation spread across your body, starting at your extremities, and the usual busy sounds of the city were replaced by a sudden deafening silence. His grip on your arm was far more reassuring than he likely intended it to be though. Then the temperature shifted a second later and you began to feel warm again.

"you can open your eyes now," he muttered and let go of you as he moved away.

Your mouth fell open in shock when you realized where you were. Somehow, you were standing inside your apartment even though you'd been just outside moments prior. The surprise fell away rather quickly when you were hit with the possible implications of what this meant.

You turned to look at Dust, who had decided to make himself at home on your couch. He sunk into the cushions and looked as if he would gladly stay there for an eternity if he could. He hadn't even taken off his shoes which, while irritating, was the least of your worries right now.

"Dust..."

He grunted in acknowledgement and his eyelights briefly flickered to you.

"How'd you know where I lived...?" you asked quietly.

He shrugged and looked away. "lucky guess..." he muttered.

Well that was a lie if you'd ever heard one. You huffed and marched over to him. Crossing your arms and fixing him with your most unimpressed look. "Really?"

He lazily waved you off but didn't seem willing to make eye contact with you now. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked a question of his own. "do those people bother you a lot?" he asked in a low voice.

You didn't appreciate how he'd brushed off your question like that and just continued staring at him for a few moments. When he didn't back down though, you reluctantly decided to revisit this issue at a future time.

"No? I haven't spoken to any of them in years..." you answered with a sigh.

He nodded slowly and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he mulled through whatever was on his mind.

"people like that deserve what's coming to them."

You really didn't like how hollow his voice sounded when he said that or the way his posture tensed up either. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was talking as if he were an arbitrator of Karma herself.

"Hey, uh...not to sound presumptuous... But, can you please not go out and threaten or kill people on my behalf?" you asked slowly.

"...what?" He gave you a look that could best be described as perplexed. "why...would you think that...? i...don't care about you that much..." he muttered, quickly tugging his hood tighter over his skull and looking down at the floor.

You stared at him for a solid five seconds with a mildly amused smile playing at the corners of your lips. What was that reaction? You'd expected him to brush you off again or even outright deny that he'd stoop to that level.

"Question... Is stalking me like the way you have been for...however long you have, your way of figuring me out?" You planted your hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow in a skeptical way.

He looked up at you blankly but didn't answer. The longer you stared at him, the more you realized that, yes, that was exactly what he'd been doing.

Okay, he was definitely creepy. While you were grateful that he'd decided to step in and get you out of that situation earlier, you really didn't like that he'd continued stalking you after confronting you for the first time. What was his goal anyways? You were basically harmless as far as humans went.

Steepling your fingers together, you took a deep breath and made eye contact with him again. "Might I suggest a more appropriate method? Like actually hanging around and talking, like adults, so we can properly get to know each other?"

Dust said nothing once again and just stared back at you sullenly. You couldn't tell if he was offended that you'd even suggested such a wild idea or if he just thought it was dumb. You didn't know a thing about him really, but you knew he wasn't exactly all there and he may not even see anything wrong with what he had been doing in the first place.

You finally gave up on the staring contest and had to look away. "Fine, whatever... I don't have the mental energy to care what you do at this point."

You started to walk into the kitchen but decided you could at least try to be a good host if he was going to make himself comfy on your couch. "Did you want something to drink or...?" But, by the time you looked back, he'd completely disappeared.

Damn it... What is with him and being all mysterious?

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Making her Vogue cover debut as the star of our June-July issue, enigmatic actor Rebecca Ferguson opens up about Dune, Mission: Impossible and growing up in Sweden

Vogue Scandinavia’s June-July cover star is Rebecca Ferguson: the enigmatic star of the Mission: Impossible and Dune franchises. Returning to her native Sweden and the familiar landscape of a sun-drenched archipelago, the 40-year-old actor delves into her past – and present – as she never has before.

In the candid cover story, Ferguson shares that, in the process of casting for Dune, she told director Denis Villenueve that she did not want the role of Lady Jessica. “I didn’t want to play a mum or a queen or a countess,” she says. “I wanted to play a drug addict. I wanted to have to lose – or gain – so much weight that it would be unhealthy for me. I wanted to be seen as a real actor.”

Ferguson also opens up about how she’s overcome her smoking addiction with toothpicks. “I can’t just eat f***ing vegetables. I don’t drink. I don’t do drugs. I’m now not smoking.” Some googling led her to a new vice. “I found these caffeinated, B6, B12-induced toothpicks,” she says, referencing the toothpicks she is seen enjoying in video interviews.

Her cover story also uncovers the quirks of her Swedish childhood, her unconventional wedding to husband Rory St. Clair Gainer and her secrets to crying on cue when on set.

[mara-xx217]

Party Shenanigans P.3 (DBD Commission- Albert Wesker/Reader)

This was commissioned by @homine! I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 here, Part 2 here!

You can gain earlier access to things like this on my Patreon!

Warnings: Leather Pants, Toxic Relationships, Hate Fucking, It Gets Gentle, Multiple Penetration 🌚, Creampies

xxx

You knew you would regret seeing him again but fuck did you hate not seeing him more. You were beginning to lose track of the number of trials it has been since you last saw that sunglass wearing asshole. Wesker… The shame you felt for that little rendezvous only extended as far as hurting Rebecca once again. The uninvited guest at the end of your little ‘date’ only annoyed you more than anything. 

If those photos got out- 

Again, you cared less for yourself (or Wesker) and cared more about Rebecca. You’ve done enough to hurt her and to know that you went and fucked him yet again- 

It was painfully awkward, but you manned up and apologized to Rebecca. It was the least you could do for her… Really, it wasn’t enough, but to your surprise… She apologized too. ‘I told him some… things…’ Rebecca looked like she was about to cry. You didn’t care what she told him. You knew he hurt her to get whatever it was out of her and that just pissed you off. You nearly hugged her but pulled back and decided to ask. You wouldn’t blame her if she told you to ‘fuck off’... 

But she didn’t. Rebecca teared up enough that she started to sniffle and you started to as well. It was��� awkward. So awkward…But you would take awkward and talking over awkward and avoidance any day. 

Rebecca hasn’t seen Wesker in about as much time as you had. …not that you told her about that last encounter you had with him. You couldn’t hide it fully from her, you wouldn’t lie to her again, but she didn’t pry and she didn’t turn away in disgust. She did look a little disappointed, which definitely stung, but you couldn’t blame her. You wouldn’t know, but she understood. In a way… Wesker was dangerous, charismatic, alluring… You were always a bit of a hard headed dumbass that needed to learn the hard way. It’s not your first time getting in over your head and getting hurt and it wouldn’t be the last. She accepted that about you and to abandon you for that alone wouldn’t be fair in her eyes. 

And it’s hard enough going on day by day without you by her side. 

You felt guilty for missing him. Rebecca was relieved that neither of you had seen him while in trial together. You were glad, too, for her sake. But it didn’t stop your stomach from dropping in disappointment… The others weren’t so lucky. They talked about how Wesker was even more of a raging bastard now than he was before. Pulling out all the stops and trying as hard as they can, quite literally fighting for their lives, isn’t enough to prevent the trial from finishing before it has a chance to even begin. It only made you feel even worse…

Not having you at his side was driving him absolutely insane. Trial after trial, Wesker pushes himself more and more to finish off the unwanted distractions that stand in the way of his finding you. The Entity was keeping you away from him on purpose. Why? If She was looking to irritate and anger him, it was working. It wouldn’t stop him from pursuing you though. This was nothing more than a slight inconvenience to him! 

There is always a solution to be had, he just needs to find the right angle… The memory of what happened that last time constantly clouded his mind and left Wesker feeling pent up with no relief in sight. It wasn’t the same if it wasn’t you… You were a distraction but you were something- someone- that he wanted. No, he needed you. Wesker hated how he left you last time… though the image of you face down, ass up and full of cum certainly left a lasting impression on him. He wished to see it again… He will see you again, he tells himself, even if he must tear up the Entity’s realms in order to find you again. 

You were experiencing a similar dilemma, becoming as frustrated and as irritable as Wesker, himself. It was enough that others could notice it, but you never cared to explain why you felt the way you did. When’s the last time you’ve been this angry and horny? You knew it was since the last time the Entity broke you and Wesker up, but it didn’t stop you from being mad about it. 

You can nearly remember every detail of the last time you two fucked. God, it was so… You still get shivers when you think about it. How did he fit all… that into you? It was no fun being horny and surrounded by people with absolutely zero privacy. …not that you mind too much, of course. You always guessed you had a thing for risky sex or semi public fucking, but the fact you only feel annoyance and slightly turned on from Ghostface and his shitty posse from spying on you pretty much confirmed it for you.

You’re a bit freaky and you will completely pin this on that asshole, Wesker. 

It was only a matter of time before a certain someone would begin harassing you. You’re honestly surprised he took as long as he did, and while you weren’t all that surprised, you were more pissed off that it was that photo that mask wearing creep left you to find. 

‘Face down ass up

Just how I like them~

Xoxo GF’ 

Asshole. Still… Your stomach twisted into knots at the possibility that someone else could have found this photo before you did. What if Rebecca did? That thought alone nearly made you rip the polaroid up and chuck it into the campfire but… You couldn’t help but to take another peek at it… J-Just a tiny, quick one…

 Hmm… Yeah, it’s not helping to cool the raging inferno in your core. Shit, you’re so… You crumple it up and put it in your pocket, ignoring how butterflies twitch in your stomach and the wet heat that begins to rapidly spread between your thighs.

Maybe the Entity felt a little bad, or maybe She was tired of hearing you curse her name at every slight inconvenience you experienced. You were surprised that She gifted you with… well, anything at all. It was a first for you but it wasn’t as though it was that surprising. She’s done things like this all the time, like- ahem- that party. You never really considered the need for a new outfit, but sometimes good things just come whether you realize you need it or not. 

Does the Entity have a sense of humor? 

It was all black, which was more than fine with you, but the sleeves of the shirt were short and the neck lower cut than your current long sleeved shirt. When’s the last time this thing has been washed? It didn’t smell much like anything… to you, anyway. Maybe you’re just used to it? The new clothing smelled… plain. Not clean, per se, but certainly different from what you were currently wearing… 

You didn’t hesitate to rip your shirt off and throw that new one on. Rebecca was already on her way over towards you and called out to you, but she paused mid sentence as though surprised by something. 

“Yeah?” You asked as you pulled your head through the neckhole. Wow, it’s a lot tighter than you first thought. Not that you really mind, of course. It was quite pleasant and the fabric was smooth and cool yet you didn’t feel the chill of the Entity’s realm through it. You turned to face Rebecca when she didn’t answer you immediately.

“What’s up?” Rebecca had her hands on her hips as she pursed her lips. 

“I didn’t know you had tattoos! Like- a lot of tattoos!” She almost sounded impressed. You looked down at your arms thoughtfully. Yeah, two full sleeves that go up to your neck. And- You remove one of your gloves and hold out your hand so an approaching Rebecca could get a better look. 

“Woah! On your hand too?! Do you have any more?! Like… any more?” She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows a little. You rolled your eyes and threw your glove at her. 

“Nope! No more! I can’t believe I never showed them to you… Sorry, I wasn’t trying to hide them, you know?” Rebecca shrugged, her face a pleasant smile that was her default expression. 

“Nah, don’t worry! Given… you know?” She gestures around. Your situation. You nod and smile a little yourself. 

Rebecca never fails to be cool as hell, does she? 

You show her the little ‘gift’ that the Entity had given you. Rebecca commented on how plain both you and Her tastes were, ribbing you a little for ‘only having one colour in your entire wardrobe’. You couldn’t really say otherwise. When you pulled out your new pants, you were surprised by the texture. 

“It’s… leather?” Rebecca snickered a little. You purse your lips as you imagined how they would fit on your body.

What would Wesker think? 

“Ooohhh! Leather, hmm?~” She smirked a little. Your face was already heating up a little. 

“Nooo…” You groan as you hold them up so you can look at them more clearly. Wow, they’re really nice… You can’t wait to put them on- 

“Hold on a sec-” Rebecca gasped in faux shock as you immediately began to take your pants off. 

“Really-? Really?! Now?!” You only shrug as you kick off your worn blue jeans and step out of them. 

“Yeah. Really.” You can’t help but to smirk as she sticks her tongue in her cheek and shakes her head. 

“You really are unbelievable, you know that?” There wasn’t any disappointment in her voice when she said that. It took you by surprise a little, so much so that you nearly tripped and fell flat on your face. 

“Mmmhmm…” 

It took far more concentration than you expected to squeeze your ass into those pants. It wasn’t unbearably tight- not at all- but you had to plop to the ground and sort of flop around like a dying fish in order to get them on all the way. Rebecca laughed at you all the while, which was fine by you. You did look ridiculous in the moment, but after you got them on and buttoned up, she helped you to your feet and you took another look at yourself.

“Damn- Okay, this is kinda hot-” It fits you very well. Not too tight that you can’t bend or jump or even run- as you so graciously tested by running around a nearby tree when Rebecca was certain that you definitely couldn’t- but also tight enough that you could feel it snug against your skin. 

You liked it. A lot. And you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body when you thought about how much he would like it, too. 

“I didn’t take you for a leather kind of guy!” You bite the inside of your cheek and shrug.

“Me either… I guess I didn’t know until I knew.” 

Yeah, you didn’t know until you felt those glove hands around your throat and in your- 

It was just your luck that you would be sent to a trial so soon after sharing a nice moment with Rebecca. She wasn’t sent with you, though perhaps it was a good thing. You were sent to RPD, which was a first in a very, very long time for you. The rain was cold and a shock to your body and had you running inside the moment you regained control of your bodily functions. Would it be him? God, you hope so… If you hear a certain giant yelling ‘S.T.A.R.S.’, you’re going to be disappointed…

To your excitement, you found a familiar black trunk containing a vaccine. Okay, so it’s definitely either Nemesis or Wesker… Just the mere thought of that man had you on edge. Your body quickly warmed up from the icy rain and you struggled to find a generator to work on. 

You at least need to put some effort in, right? It wouldn’t be fair otherwise… 

You couldn’t really focus, as your mind was racing with both your past encounters with the ex S.T.A.R.S. member and what he could possibly do to you this time, especially after so much time apart…

“AAAAHHH-!!!” 

The generator blows up in your face as a scream rings out in the distance. Someone is already down? No, it wasn’t just that. A shiver runs down your spine a split second before you hear the familiar growl of the Entity overhead. Someone’s already dead?! 

The killer wasn’t fucking around. Before you had time to recover from your shock, it happened again. The generator popped loudly before the low growl of the Entity nearly deafened your ears. By the time you stood up, it happened again. The generator slowed until it fell silent, and you could hear nothing other than the storm raging outside. 

It was sickening but… a part of you became excited. It’s got to be him, right? It was too surgical, too clean, to be anyone else. You bit your lip as you carefully descended down a flight of stairs. You don’t hear anything… You wanted to be sure that it was Wesker. You didn’t want to give that big bastard Nemesis a free kill, after all… 

First and foremost, you should locate the hatch. You know… just in case. You stuck your head out of the stairway, carefully looking around for any sign of the killer. No, nothing… You couldn't help but to let your guard down at least a little bit. You step into the narrow hallway and quickly make your way towards an open doorway. This is bad. All it would take is for Wesker to see you down the hall and he could close the- 

THUMP

THUMP

“URK-?!” 

The air was knocked from your lungs as a black blob hurled down the hallway and crashed into your side. Somewhere between being knocked off your feet and regaining your breath, you were grabbed by the front of your shirt and slammed back first into a wall at the end of the hall. The little breath you had was immediately knocked out of your chest once again and you were left dazed and confused as you gasped for air. In the time that it took you to shake off your shock, a pair of sunglasses were taking in your new outfit. 

Hmph… 

He didn’t know you had tattoos. It almost surprised him, until he remembered how much of a pain in the ass you were. You would be the type to get them out of rebellion, he thought. He moved his Ouroboros out of the way so he could get a better look at your neck. There too? Normally, he would find tattoos outright gauche, but with you it seems his normal senses go out the window, along with his common sense. And… those pants… Leather? Really? It would be a blatant lie for him to say that he didn’t highly approve of the change, seeing as it was something of a personal favourite of his. It looked good on you. Really good. It would look even better either around your ankles or-

CRACK! 

You kicked Wesker square between the eyes. Your boots crushed his sunglasses, the lenses completely destroyed and revealed his orangish-red, cat slit eyes that were simply burning with rage. 

“Was that really necessary?” You knew full well that struggling was futile. You had no desire to get away from Wesker but at the same time, you wanted to be as big a nuisance as you possibly could. It’s no less than this asshole deserves- 

“Dunno, was it really necessary to be a prick to ‘becca?” Wesker sneered at you as he removed his ruined glasses. You half expected him to replace them but to your surprise he didn’t. He only threw them to the ground, which was followed by a sharp crunch. 

“Is it really necessary to resume this old song and dance, hmm?” Your body stiffens as Wesker’s Ouroboros tightens around your torso. You were completely plastered to the wall with absolutely no give to his grip, as far as you could tell from how you squirmed and kicked your legs uselessly in the air. 

“Well- Nggh-! I know what I want…” Your ribs were squeezed uncomfortably tight. A pounding heat had settled between your legs and was making it difficult for you to focus on anything other than the stiff appendage that rubbed against your inner thigh. You worried your lower lip as Wesker’s eyes cut right through you. 

“...do you know what you want?” 

Maybe it was just your inner slut taking hold or maybe you were just tired of waiting. You hooked one of your legs around his waist and dragged him close. Last time you were the one to beg like the cock slut that you are. This time… you didn’t think it would be any different, no matter how much you’d like to see this asshole writhe underneath you. You just can’t help yourself… He does terrible things to you and you just let it happen, because you are a bad person too, with next to no inhibitions whatsoever when it comes to this toxic piece of work... 

It never took much to set him over the edge. You knew just as well as he did that Wesker was much the same as you when it came to not just wanting you, but needed you as well. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as you felt the tight crotch of your brand new pants being grabbed and pulled away from your skin. You knew better than to move as you felt a familiar blade cut through the leather with expected ease. 

Wesker didn’t waste any time in taking what he wanted. His mouth crashed against yours with enough force to draw blood. Your teeth clattered together but you didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss with the exact same energy. It was sloppy and wet and you bit his tongue and lips just to spite him. He growled into your mouth and squeezed your ribs with the Ouroboros. It wasn’t so much as a warning and a threat as it was a declaration that he was the one in control. You only smirked into his lips but your expression quickly changed as you felt something cool and slimy slap between your legs. 

You were only teased with a curl and a bump between your folds before it thrusted into you to the hilt. The sudden sensation of being full burned and you hissed in pain, but it quickly turned into a moan as you quickly became accommodated to the Ouroboros’s rapid contraction and expansions inside of you. 

“Hmm… Already so wet? You are simply pathetic and in need of me, aren’t you?” He purrs as he grinds and presses against that spot inside of you. You clench hard around him, whimpering as you try (and fail) to move your hips against him. 

It wasn’t fair. How could you let this asshole do these things to you without so much as putting up any fight? You were giddy when that other Ouroboros tendril massaged and prodded at your ass and you mewled in glee when he pushed it into you. Really, you swear to yourself that you would be putting up a much bigger resistance if your arms weren’t glued to your sides! But they are and you don’t really need to kid yourself with how much you’ve been looking forward to this moment.

Even if your fellow survivors had to die for this very moment- 

“H-How unfortunate that I don’t have a camera of my own… I would love to save the look o-on your f-face…” You weren’t the only one that hated that you couldn’t put up a better resistance to your innermost desires. Wesker had no patience in performing for his own ego, not when it comes to you. He can’t stand to make himself wait while he teases and pushes you over the edge, so he hurriedly unbuckles and unzips his trousers and clumsily aligns himself with the nearest hole he can stick himself into. 

Which was, once again, your already stuffed asshole. 

You screamed, though you weren’t sure if it was wholly from pain or from pleasure. It was a feeling you had felt before, it was something that you had craved since that last time Wesker had fucked all your holes… He didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he started thrusting wildly inside of you, as though he had missed and wanted this as much as you did.

“HA- HAAA- HAARDER!!!~” It was forced out of you between grunts and gasps. You couldn’t control the volume or the tone of your voice with how hard you were being fucked. You wouldn’t be surprised if something broke inside of you, but really? You wouldn’t give a damn. 

Your legs kicked out, occasionally landing blows on his thighs or his knees, but it wasn’t like Wesker could really feel it. Any hit or kick you landed on him was barely a cause for concern, something that wouldn’t stop him in his tracks even if you meant to stop him. But you didn’t. Everything was wildly beyond your control, though landing a stray hit on him every now and then certainly had an electric surge shooting through your entire body. How far could you push it? Would he let you punch him? Slap him? Spit in his face? You doubt it, and if you had the capacity you sure as hell would try. 

Wesker’s growled hotly in your ear as he throbbed inside of you. It was easy to miss, especially how the Ouroboros was thrusting in tandem with his cock, but the sudden warmth that flooded inside of you was unmistakable. You shuddered and closed your eyes, but then moaned as Wesker’s pace only grew more frantic, as did the pace of the tendrils inside of you. Another was added to your pussy, which made your back stiffen as you keened in pleasure. 

OH FUCK-

FUCK

FUCK 

FUCK-!!! 

A familiar hand wrapped around your throat. It squeezed you just enough so you really had to focus on your breathing while not pushing you over the edge into blacking out. Your fingers flexed as you tried in vain to free your arms. It was mostly involuntary on your part, but the struggle only turned him on even more. 

“-UGGHHNN-!” His grip on your throat tightened as he thrusted into you at an angle that made you see stars.

“NNNGH-! What was that? S-Speak clearly!!” He was snarling between clenched teeth, which made you shiver as his grip around your neck went slack.

“AHHHAA- A-AGAIN!! C-CUM ‘N-’N ME ‘GAIN-! AAAAH-!!!” Your jaw was gripped with enough force to make it pop. No, no… That wasn’t good enough… 

“Ah, ah… Is that any way to get what you want?” Wesker tutted you between grunts and thrusts. Oh fuck is he really doing this now?? Fuck you hate him but damn it if he didn’t have your toes curling and head swooning.

“W-WHA-?! OH FUCK YOU!” It came spilling out of your mouth from pure frustration alone. You know exactly how to get what you want but you want him to force it out of you first. You cry out in pained pleasure as his grip on your jaw tightens and his pace begins to slow. 

“H-HUUU-! W-WAIT! W-WAIT!” A dark chuckle had a chill running down your spine. 

“Go on. Say it. You know as well as I do that you want to…” Your temples began to throb. 

As much as you want to say that what you said last time was said out of the heat of the moment, you can’t. It felt so fucking good to call him that and it looks like you’ve given him an unbearable ego boost to boot. You were already past denying it, but you couldn’t help but to push his buttons just a little more. 

“...what if I don’t say it?” His thrusting slowed to a halt, as did the Ouroboros. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from whining. 

“If you don’t? Then we stop here.” His tone was flat but his voice was sweet. He wouldn’t, you thought. Wesker’s gaze was intense and had you shriveling and your already fragile will breaking into pieces. Your stomach dropped as you felt him pull away from you slightly. The thought of being left empty when you still haven’t had that itch inside of you scratched just yet left you feeling genuine dread. 

“W-Wait-!” You clumsily wrap your legs around his waist and secure him in place. He allowed you to deepen your connection and you had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from sighing in relief. It wasn’t like you had any pride left to lose now… And besides-

You loved giving into him. 

“P-Please?” You worried your sore lip between your teeth. You didn’t know if the angle made you attractive or not, and you don’t know if you really care. Wesker leaned in closer but still didn’t give into your pathetic attempt at changing his mind. 

“Please sir…?” You fluttered your eyelashes as you squeezed him. 

Close… but not quite. 

He rested his arm on the wall next to your head. Wesker was towering over you, not to mention that both of your holes were filled by him, but you weren’t intimidated at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, for a fraction of a second, you were sure that you were in love… 

‘Please master…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but Wesker heard you as though you had spoken it directly into his ear. You could feel him shiver as the words left your mouth, and you ended up shivering too as he gently pressed his lips against your own.

He started to move again, but it was much slower. Agonizing but not teasing, it was as though he was wanting to truly enjoy the act of fucking you. But was this really fucking, anymore? You would think it uncharacteristically gentle of Wesker, but his eye contact was so intense that you couldn’t think of anything other than how beautiful his eyes were…

Tension steadily built in your core as both his cock and his Ouroboros tentacles thrusted in and out of you.  You could feel with great clarity how each tendril writhed and pressed against all your sensitive walls. They rubbed against each other, against Wesker’s cock, making everything in your flutter as you were slowly pushed over the edge. Have you ever cummed like that? It was long and drawn out yet it wasn’t overwhelming or Earth shattering, but it did mean that it wasn’t one of the most pleasurable orgasms that you’ve ever had in your life.

“A-Ah-? O-Ohh…” 

Wesker broke the kiss and moved his mouth down your jaw. You didn’t hesitate to turn your head to the side so he could run his tongue along your neck. His teeth grazed your skin and eventually sunk into you, not hard enough to break the skin but more than enough to leave a stunning bruise behind once he began to suck on your throat. Will that bruise stay after you return? You hoped so. The thought of him leaving behind a mark, something to claim you as his, made you tighten around him all over again. 

The pressure inside of you changed. Instead of the Ouroboros thrusting out of sync they twisted together and moved inside of you as one. Even the one in your ass wrapped around Wesker’s cock, giving it an exciting new texture and sensation every time he thrusted inside of you. You’ll never get used to how it feels to be fucked by those tentacles and you didn’t really mind. It was as revolting as it was insanely hot, and you were already on the verge of cumming again when you felt him stutter inside of you. 

“M-MMMM-!!” 

You wanted to cry out in dismay when he pulled himself out of your ass, but you were quickly muffled by a kiss. You weren’t left empty, as the Ouroboros remained inside of you, but it wasn’t the same… Your dismay quickly turned to excitement as you felt his stiffness rub in between the Ouroboros tendrils that were inside of your pussy. You would have begged even though it wasn’t necessary, but he was already feeling merciful and didn’t tease you any longer. 

S-Shit! It’s so tight-! You could feel everything! It was a good thing that you were secure against the wall, because you were sure that you wouldn’t have control of your body. The pressure was intense but the discomfort that you felt was vastly overshadowed by the bliss of being totally and utterly full with Wesker.

He must have thought it intense, too, as his body was shaking and he couldn’t hold back his strained huffs and groans of pleasure. The kiss became sloppy. Neither of you could quite find the other’s mouth but it really didn’t matter. The feeling of tongue against lips and teeth was just as good as a controlled, deep kiss even if it left half of your face covered in saliva and teeth marks.

Just a little more… You could feel that he was close again. His movements had become more and more disjointed and his mouth more needy. You whined as you felt your lower body cramp but you powered through it and wrapped your legs around his waist even tighter. C’mon… You want it, he wants it, so why fight it? The Ouroboros that had plastered you to the wall slowly disintegrated until it was only Wesker’s arms that were holding you up. This feels so much better… Even the tendrils inside of you began to dissipate, until it was only his cock left inside of you. But it didn’t detract from the pleasure that you felt. If anything, you were now hyper aware of him and you could feel every drag of his length against your sore walls. 

He was quiet when he finished for the final time, hardly groaning or even releasing a breath as he stilled inside of you. It felt so warm as he pulsed and throbbed… You shuddered and felt your own muscles tighten one last time. You searched for his mouth and he quickly gave it to you, moaning as you slipped your tongue inside. You ran a hand through his hair and for a brief moment, you felt powerful as he gave into your touches. 

For a brief moment, anyway. It ended as soon as it started, and Wesker had pulled away with a strand of saliva connecting your mouths together. Your stomach twisted into knots as he looked down on you. What was he thinking, you wondered. It felt like some kind of line was crossed, one that maybe shouldn’t have been crossed, but… 

Wesker actually took care of you? Or, he at least made sure that you made it to the hatch by carrying you there. You didn’t didn’t really know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You stared at his chest while trying to figure out exactly what you were feeling. This was the first time that he was gentle and careful with you… You didn’t dislike it, no, you… liked it. You guessed he liked it too, since he was doing it in the first place. 

Was it bad that you didn’t want him to let you go? The hatch was found but he didn’t put you down. For a brief moment, your eyes met. Damn, what’s wrong with you? You couldn’t hold his gaze and you looked away, blushing. Like you weren’t just fucked and had his cum leaking out of all of your holes- He shifted and you looked back up at him, shyly. W-Was that- 

Is he smiling? 

You didn’t get to take a second glance as he literally dropped your ass into the hatch. The sudden shift had a yelp leaving your throat but instead of landing flat on your (mostly) bare ass you landed on your feet. You tapped your crotch and yep, it’s been fixed. Well, at least you won’t have to explain that to anyone. Thank you, Entity. But your neck? 

It was still sore. 

Well… 

Shit. 

Asshole… You couldn’t help but to smile a little as you shuffled back to camp. 

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather

[teecupangel]

Just saw the Yu Gi Oh post where you gave Desmond a deck based around Ezio being one of his main cards and it reminded me that when i finished reading Esama's Loose Ends, i wrote down an idea i got. XD

Basically, Desmond gets sent to the Yu Gi Oh verse as a card and in a fun twist, we can send Shaun, Rebecca and Bill after him some months later. In this AU, Abstergo never got Desmonds body, there was just some blood stains near the Eye(enough for Sample 17). This leads Bill to desperatly search for his son and in the beginning Shaun and Rebecca help him, but as the months go by and nothing comes up, they start losing hope.

Not Bill though. He is adamant that his son is still alive, the Apple told him so. Eventually the Brotherhood send Shaun and Rebecca after him to get the Apple back and to stop this madness. Bill though, has found out that his son is in an alternate reality and there is a PoE that can get him there. Just as he activatesthe device, Shaun and co. catch up to him and gets transported too.

All of them wake up to a world where children fight multi million dollar tournaments with real monsters summoned from cards... WTF??? Bill is still adamantly searching for Desmond and when asking around, he hears people talk about "hoping to see Desmond in action" at the next tournament. When they get there though, it is not just Desmond he sees, but a bunch of Assassins... as the monsters controlled by people. All their eyes are a soulless white and then everyone goes wild as Desmond gets summonee to the field... Bill found his son. Now he needs to free him.

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So yeah, the idea is that Desmond and his ancestors are being controlled by whatever evil corporation rules in the Yu Gi Oh verse(sorry, my knowledge about this series is very limited XD) and it's up to Bill, Shaun and Rebecca to save Desmond and stop the evil guys, with the help of these random children that insist they can help.

"Do you guys even know how to play Dual Monsters?"

"... Fiiiiine, you can help"

Heres's the wall of text i wrote down in a flurry of words about Desmond as the card. XD

Yu gi oh x AC crossover idea: After the Eye Desmond ends up in the Yu Gi Oh verse as a card. He has multiple stages to his card and his theme is that at first he can't attack and monsters are forced to defend him until a certain number has been met and he transforms into a form that can attack. His first form is a chained up ball of golden feathers called Desmond The Chained One. His 2nd form is called Desmond The Free One and has him sever his chains and fly free, but the chains remain on him(he is in simple clothes reminiscent of his hoodie and jeans). His 3rd form is called Desmond The Awakened One and has him hold an Apple of Eden and his clothes become the robes of the Assassins. His last form is Desmond The Sacrificed One and along with the Apple, he has the Eye in front if him. In this form his chains are finally gone and the player can choose to either sacrifice him to protect every card on the battle field from a spell or effect that would destroy a monster or they can sacrifice everything and let Desmond remain. In his 2nd form he gains the ability to summon other Assassin cards(Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad The Eagle, Ezio Auditore The Hunter, Ratonhnhaké:ton The Furious, Edward Kenway The Pirate, Haytham Kenway The Leader etc) to aid him. His 3rd also gains the ability to sacrifice a card to take control of an enemy until the end of the turn.

Here’s the link to the Altaïr possesses Desmond ala Yami Yugi idea and my idea for Desmond’s OP deck for those curious

I only fully watched the series with Yugi in it so I’ll suggest that, instead of an evil corporation, we just have Desmond be part of the new cards that are part of some kind of ‘promotional tournament’. This way we can put this in any of the series/season you want and it’ll become more or less a ‘filler arc’ XD

Okay, my suggestion is for the criteria to change forms is that ‘discarding’ or ‘losing’ a number of cards to ‘evolve’ Desmond.

For Desmond to become Desmond The Free One, 3 cards must be discarded or lose regardless of who lost it (the player or the opponent). BUT Desmond must already be in the field for those cards to count. Any cards lost before Desmond is in the field is not part of the count. This includes magic and trap cards.

To get Desmond the Awakened One, the player must discard or lose 3 cards (this includes the cards that the player has already sacrificed for Desmond’s 2nd form).

And for Desmond to become the Desmond The Sacrificed One, it’s more specific: the cards Altaïr, Ezio, and Ratonhnhaké:ton must be discarded or defeated in the field. Of course, if they have already been sacrificed, that still counts. But here’s the thing though…

Desmond the Sacrificed One doesn’t summon any Assassin cards. He forces the players to summon them as long as they are in the player’s hand and there is a free spot in the field. Any time he summons an Assassin, he can no longer attack or use his control skill and he prioritizes summoning Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

AND he has a special ‘passive skill’ with the Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton cards. He will always take the first hit of those cards per turn. This means that, the opponent could easily whittle down Desmond’s health by attacking Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton only once.

This is mitigated by:

Desmond cannot be directly attacked or removed from the field as long as there is an Assassin card in the field

He heals 10% of his total HP for every Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton cards in the field per start of the player's turn.

The Aegis shield can be equipped to Desmond and it will take 50% of any damages that is aimed at Desmond until its shield is depleted.

Edward’s passive skill “Protecting the Future” where Edward can take the damage that would prove to be a killing blow for the cards Ratonhnhaké:ton, Haytham Kenway and Jennifer Scott also applies to Desmond.

The magic card “You are an Auditore” which heals 30% of the health of any Auditore cards in the field and that includes any ‘Kenway’ on the field also affects Desmond.

Equipping Altaïr or Ezio with the Armor of Altaïr (there’s also two copies of them in the deck) halves all damages they take and Desmond only receives 1/3 of the damage when his passive activates.

Keeping Desmond the Sacrificed One also heralds a permanent field effect. All monsters other than Desmond take damage every start of the turn. The field is called ‘Remnants of the Sun’s Wrath”.