#*tosses content at u all* fetch

[satorhime]

recess + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : dad!gojo, f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader ‘n’ gojo r not the best parents but they just wanna comfort their sweet baby girl, reader is referred to as ‘mrs’, ‘mama’, school fights, light discussion of insecurities, bullying + discrimination･｡･ w.c. 2.2k

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : you, satoru, and your daughter’s first trip to the principle’s office.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ notes : i am in the fluffiest mood ever for my dear heart so i present u another one of my dad!gojo fics. this one tugged at my heart strings tho :( not proofread!

the school calls and says that your five-year-old daughter got into a fight with another student during recess, and the first thing satoru asks is “did she win?”

an hour later, the two of you are sitting in the middle of the principle’s office on a worn, brown leather couch while an aide fetches your little girl from lunch. the differences in your respective reactions is stark, a contrast of color that can be seen throughout your relationship.

while you are respectful of authority, nodding along and gasping in horror with your hand clutching your necklace as the principle explains that your daughter was seen punching a little boy in the sandbox, satoru has his legs kicked up on the principle’s big oak desk, his head thrown back in full blown laughter. you have to lash out, smacking his chest with your fist just to get him to quiet down— only for him to retaliate with a pinch to the side of your thigh.

“i believe i see where the violence comes from,” the principle clicks her tongue over the melodramatics of satoru coughing and spitting after your hit, her lip curled in disapproval. she has a severe look about her, like the suffocatingly conservative elders in satoru’s clan. “mister and missus gojo, you must know this behavior is highly inappropriate.”

“we’re sor-”

“you never answered my question you know,” satoru cuts you off before you can apologize like a good little student yourself, sitting up straight and cocking his head to the side. even though you can’t see his eyes, covered by his dark shades, you can almost taste his amusement in the air. he is not taking any of this seriously, and why would he?

he was the one who taught her how to throw a punch.

“and what question would that be, mister gojo?”

“if she won the fight or not, of course!” he says, punctuating each word with a wag of his finger. with his million dollar grin all wide on his face. some things never change no matter how old you get because you can tell that he enjoys challenging authority. that he decided the principle was just another one of the higher ups who abused their power and looked down their nose at the youth after one glimpse of her personality and leadership.

the principle opens her mouth, likely to scold him, but then the door opens and your little one steps through with the aide carrying her backpack. her head is hung low, her chin tucked against her chest and her fists are bunched in the hem of her uniform skirt as she walks in— the very picture of guilt.

“you can ask her instead,” the principle concludes, and you become a little closer to seeing gojo’s approach to things. you don’t like the way she looks at your baby, ready to toss the key away for a kindergartner who can barely speak properly without even knowing if she initiated the fight or not. you grit your teeth, though. you’re trying to be civil, for crying out loud.

after all, your child doesn’t need two maniacs for parents.

“miss gojo,” the principle calls, addressing your kindergartener directly. when she raises her chin, she has a defiant look in her big, glacier blue eyes that rival’s her father’s own. there’s a fleck of rice stuck cutely to the side of her mouth, no doubt from the onigiri you packed in her bento this morning. her little white plaits are in disarray, the colorful barrettes you accessorized her hair with lost and nowhere to be found, and when your eyes drop down to her hands, you can tell that she’s hiding her bruised knuckles in her skirt. “do tell us what happened, and absolutely no fibs or tall tales, please.”

“uhm…” her eyes roam the room, intimidated by the adults watching her with expectation. she earns a patient nod and smile from you, and a cheeky wink from satoru over the rim of his glasses. taking a deep breath, she mumbles, “uhm. i was playing in the big box and sōta-kun started saying mean stuff so i punched him real hard.”

“and do you think that was an appropriate approach to someone saying something you don’t like, miss gojo? our school does not condone violence or bullies. we teach kindness and communication.”

“i thought he would dodge! dada always dodges my hits when we train,” she huffs in defense, blowing air into her cheeks. you shrink in your chair, placing a hand over your face in embarrassment because you know exactly what she’s about to say next. “aaaand, dada told me that whenever i don’t like something someone say, i can just blast them off the face of the earth when i get strong!”

“i do recall telling her that,” satoru takes credit proudly, his grin turning mischievous.

“satoru,” you warn, sighing. “really not the time.”

“i’m seen but silent.” he spreads his palms in surrender, mocking what you always tell your daughter to be when she makes too much racket in public. “and pretty.”

“it seems that neither one of you are concerned with your child’s concerning behavior. you make quips while her fellow student had to be sent to the infirmary because of her actions,” the woman’s voice is grave and authoritative, cutting through the lackadaisical attitude swirling around satoru. his posture never changes, but you can see the moment his spine straightens. “the child’s parents are demanding she be expelled.”

“what’s ‘expelled’?”

“i’ll explain it to you later, my love,” you whisper.

“sheesh, these old geezers are all the same,” he whistles, rolling his eyes.

“excuse me?” she demands, turning red.

“what my heart means to say,” you hiss through clenched teeth, cutting a glare so dark at him that his grin falters. though you’ll have no control over it later, it’s no secret the path you want for your little girl. you have not mistaken the abnormal luminescence in her eyes for anything but what it is, what it will develop into. she inherited her father’s powers, and it’s important that you give her even the tiniest semblance of a normal life. going to a good school with children on the outside, at least at first, is the first step to that. “is that surely, this can be handled with leniency? we still do not know what was said to cause her to react this way and-”

“it does not matter what was said,” the principle barks. “our academy has no need for violence, nor… a peculiar like her who-”

“if i were you, i would be careful with your words,” satoru’s voice lowers and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it’s her first offense, ain’t it? she’s five. just let her apologize to the kid and suspend her for a couple of days, if you gotta.”

“if not,” he drawls, standing up and stretching his arms casually. you know it’s time to leave when satoru starts threatening people— you hold out your hand to your daughter so that she can take it before grasping onto satoru’s sleeve and hauling him towards the door, too. “i may suddenly become interested in a transfer and a promotion.”

you almost roll your eyes because he doesn’t even have a real license to teach.

“you are over the line, sir. you must know that threats-”

“think about it!”

and then, he grins one last time at the gobsmacked principle as you begin hauling your two troublemakers out of the office.

each of your daughter’s tiny pinky fingers are curled around one of you and satoru’s as you all walk home afterwards, linked together. she still looks so crestfallen, so guilty it almost makes gojo chuckle, but he settles for an amused grin cocked to one side of his glossy lips. she keeps sighing exaggeratedly, and there is never any denying whose daughter she is.

“soooo,” satoru is the one to ask, surprisingly. he usually lets you play the villain in the storybook before bedtime. “what did the brat say that made you knock him out with a right hook, princess? hitting without a reaaaally good reason is bad. i think i forgot to add that in my lesson last time.”

it’s the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind as well— why did your gentle baby girl get into a playground brawl with another student? has she been displaying this behavior at school all along? you knew that satoru training her before she could even read a book properly was a horrible idea, but you had wanted to compromise with him since you had decided she would be raised away from sorcerers during her childhood.

“the left one,” she mumbles the correction, sniffling dejectedly. “i already- i already said him kept saying mean stuff.”

“like what, baby?” you encourage softly, reaching down to swipe a stray tear that rolls down her cheek. you bite your lip, trying to figure out how to approach the beginning of a lesson on how to direct her negative emotions away from lashing out, and into something more rational. “you can tell me and dada, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“yep! we’re perfect at keeping secrets too.”

“him said that mama wasn’t my real one because i look like a fweak and mama and dada does too. ‘cause i got these stupid dumb blue eyes and stupid dumb white hair that nobody else got. ‘s what they allllll say. ‘cause i’m ugly.”

oh.

satoru’s head lifts a little, and the two of you share a look over her head. anger courses through your veins like liquid fire, ending in hot tears bubbling up in your eyes, and suddenly you aren’t interested in reprimanding your child for defending herself. satoru’s fist clenches until his knuckles turn white, hidden in the pocket of his slacks.

you aren’t idiots— you knew that she would be treated differently, in any school. with you being a foreigner, and satoru having unnatural looks himself, there’s no denying that she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst other children in her class with her snowy white hair and her tiny tinted, prescription goggles that people ask questions about, because while she has the six eyes, she doesn’t know how to use it properly yet and her eyesight is bad because of it.

still, the thought of you missing something is heart wrenching. your baby girl is always cheerful when you or satoru or both pick her up from school at the end of the day, chatting animatedly and showing off her creations from class, but maybe … maybe that was because she was relieved to be home again, surrounded by her favorite things and her loving parents, rather than spending hours a day with people who treated her like she was less than human.

“c’mere, princess,” satoru says, bending at the waist to hoist her off the ground. he perches her up on his arm, letting his shades slide down so that she can look into his eyes. you step a little closer after that, placing a hand on her back for support but you’ll speak to her later when the two of you have a little gossip before bed like you do each night, girl to girl. but right now, satoru is just what she needs. “favorite things that are blue like your eyes? shoot.”

“squirtle!”

“good job, princess. what else?”

she takes great care in huffing, her lower lip stuffing out into a pout, lifting a finger to tap the lens of gojo’s shades, “your eyes.” and then she points to the wedding ring on your finger, with a delicate aquamarine stone set in the middle. she always loved playing with it as a baby. “and mama’s ring.” she thinks for another moment. “and the sky!”

“good job. favorite things that are white like your hair? go!”

a little smile plays on the corners of your lips as you listen to them. satoru is eerily good at parenting when he wants to be, and already she’s swinging and humming because he introduced her to a game of listing her favorite things that looks like her.

“oh-! ice cream, and… and, megumi-nii’s ps5, and.. and.. your hair, dada!” she cheers, her little voice full of excitement as she bounces up and down.

“you’re so good at this. all those things look different from you, don’t they? but they’re pretty to you anyway, right?”

“yep!”

“so… come on here, help your old man out,” he prompts. “what does that make you?”

“i’m pretty too?”

“that’s right. you got a buy one get one free, you know! you got your mama’s beauty and you got six eyes, when most kids only have two! they’re just jealous.” he insists. “they all are.”

“i have six?” she asks in wonder, and just like that she’s on board, her eyes going round and wide behind her goggles. he nods, reaching up to ruffle her little plaits with a grin. then he glances over at you, switching your daughter over to hold with his other arm so that he can pull you close, loop a long arm protectively around your shoulders as you walk and just like that, he’s holding both of his favorite girls.

“yep, and they’re the prettiest eyes ever, this much prettier than your dada’s,” you singsong, cracking a grin and spreading your arms out as a makeshift measurement.

“ouch,” satoru whines, playfully offended. “unfortunately, she’s right.”

“i’m prettier than you, dada!” she giggles, and it means the world to see her spirits lifted once more.

“you’re the prettiest in the world, jellybean. never let anyone tell you otherwise.” you pinch her cheek, earning one of those sweet giggles from her. “our pretty, special baby girl.”

later on tonight, you’ll have a more serious conversation with her about how though the world will sneer and treat her differently because she doesn’t look like society expects her to, she is beautiful despite it all. that she is a product of love, of the most ardent kind. and heart, and happiness. that she is the best thing in the world and you would not trade her for anybody else.

tomorrow, you’ll be raising hell against that school for letting children bully your daughter, for a child having to defend herself against discrimination. but right now, the last thing you say after the school calls and says that your five-year-old got into a fight with another student during recess is “let’s get you ice cream that looks like you to celebrate causing your first black eye!”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (67)

Series Master list

Naraku opens the door and walks through the brothel like establishment. He nods his head in greeting to the attendant. "Zenin," he says, waiting with expectancy for the attendant to lead him to the private room. To a human's ears, this establishment is soundproof. But to a demon, even a half one like him, the sound of flesh slapping against one another, the cries of pain and pleasure, may as well be broadcasted over the speakers instead of the soft instrumental music.

"Naoya," Naraku greets, motioning for the attendant to leave them be. The Zenin stretches his arms out along the chair as a dark-haired woman pours another cup of tea. "It's been a while." Naraku sits down in the chair off to the side, closest to the door. He rolls his shoulders back and lets out a long-suffering sigh, as though the trek to this location was too great on his body.

"Miroku," Naoya says with a sly smirk on his face. Out of all the Zenins Naraku has delt with over the years, this one has been the easiest to manipulate. "Care for a drink?"

"Something other than tea," Naraku answers, watching as the woman bows her head as she scurries out of the room to fetch his drink. "I'm sure you are aware that Gojo Satoru has been sealed."

"Just in time," Naoya quips. "Bastard was trying to kick us Zenins out of Jujutsu. But you didn't come all this way to talk about him. Though I'm surprised you weren't at the meeting. Not like you to not be there to vouch for the clan."

"No, I came to talk about his fiancé and her connection to the jewel." Naraku reaches in his robe and pulls out the scroll. He ignores Naoya's comment. "I managed to retrieve this from Geto." He places the scroll on the table and leans back. That scroll was a real bitch to open. Unfortunately, its contents were nothing more than what he already knew.

Naoya quirks a brow and scans over the scroll. "This is about that Shikon the elders were talking about." He tosses the scroll down. "Sounds like a load of shit. A jewel that can grant any wish?"

The woman returns with sake in hand. She keeps her eyes lowered as she serves him. Her thin slip of a dress is nearly see-through.

Hm. Naoya must have already given her a tongue lashing regarding her place.

"Get over here," Naoya commands, "entertain me." He crooks his finger and motions for the woman to do his bidding.

Naraku bites back a sigh as he drowns his drink. Why must this human be so stupid? "Kagome Higurashi is a wildcard and must be eliminated. She will no doubt be attempting the unsealing of Gojo Satoru. The others are wary of her as well. She used some kind of power different from cursed energy–"

"She's just a woman," Naoya says with a scoff. "What could she possibly do? I've met her once. Easy on the eyes. Far too mouthy." He shifts, widening his legs as he leans forward. "I don't want to eliminate her. I want to ruin her. And if it's power she has, then that power would be better suited under me, serving me, and popping out stronger heirs."

Naraku narrows his eyes. When did he meet the priestess? "You want to possess her, then? Fine. Break her. But get any information on the jewel out of her." Of course, this mongrel would be more interested in fucking the priestess than getting rid of her. Where did he go wrong? He should have focused his efforts on someone else.

This Zenin is useless.

The only other Zenin worth his time was Toji, but no matter what he did, the man would not break.

"You seem awfully confident she knows anything about this fabled jewel." Naoya stares at him for a beat and then directs his attention to the dancing woman. "Strip and face the wall. I don't want to see your face."

The woman blanches, but strips nonetheless. Her movements are jerky. The chill in the room does not help. If Naraku was more of a man, he'd put a stop to this charade. But he is neither man nor demon, and so he ignores the woman's pleading eyes for help.

She knew what she was getting into when she signed up to work at a place like this.

"Something wrong with her face?" He reaches for his cup and frowns. Empty all too soon. Human sake does nothing to fill the void. Does nothing to drown out the voices in his head. He grabs the bottle and pours himself another glass.

"It's not her face. The hips are a bit too narrow as well, but this is the best this place had to offer." Naoya chuckles. "You're probably too old now to even get it up."

Naraku's eye twitches before settling into a friendly disposition. "Yes, these weak bones of mine aren't getting any younger, which is why I want to see you take your rightful spot as the clan leader."

And then he'll take Naoya's identity and take his rightful place as leader. Though if Naoya insists on keeping Kagome alive, then that could be a problem.

The priestess would see through his act. She's frustrating like that. And always has a knack for interfering right when he has everything set up perfectly. It is as though her sole purpose in life is to steal the little joy he has.

"Didn't ya hear?" Naoya twists his lips into a snarl. "Megumi, dearest is the clan head now. Daddy," he spits the word out, "made a deal with Gojo for Megumi to be clan leader if anything happens to him."

"So? Get rid of him."

No wonder Geto insisted on working with curses like Mahito. At least they would kill without questioning it.

A damn shame he could not absorb Mahito before Geto got to him. He had high hopes for how far that power would take him. He only has himself to blame for not considering that Geto would want Mahito's powers for himself.

In hindsight, he should have absorbed him before the Shibuya incident occurred.

Naoya rolls his eyes and goes back to watching the dancing woman, who sways to her beat, seemingly more relaxed now that she does not have to look at them.

"I can't just get rid of him without just cause. Not a curse user."

"You have cause. He's trying to unseal Gojo Satoru. What kind of clan leader would unseal a traitor to jujutsu society?"

Perhaps it would have been simpler to kill Naoya when he was a child.

"Ya ain't so bad, Miroku. Knew daddy dearest was stupid for doubting you." Naoya reaches over and takes a swig out of the bottle. He slams it down on the table and stands.

"I'm in no mood to watch you fuck," Naraku says with boredom dripping from every word.

Naoya barely glances at him as he shrugs out of his clothes. "Ya know so much about that woman. Bring her to me. Set up a meeting. Whatever. I don't care how ya do it, but I want her."

His head throbs. If he could get the priestess so easily, then he would have done so a long time ago. Does he not realize how protected the priestess is?

He must not because he wouldn't have spoken such ridiculous orders.

"Bait then," Naraku murmurs to himself as he pours another drink, ignoring Naoya's heavy grunts. "Call for Megumi, then. She'll come for him." He rises and curls his lip in disgust. The woman's fake moans remind him of a bunch of squawking imps. His ears may as well be bleeding.

These humans are so barbaric.

He closes the door with a slam and nearly stumbles into a woman with poorly dyed red hair. Her green eyes, fake, but close enough to the color of Yumi's nearly knocks him off his feet. He grabs her by the arm.

"Give me a room now."

"You good?" Megumi asks, stepping to Yuji's side.

Yuji startles and then scratches the back of his head. "Just thinking is all. How Kagome-san can remain so positive after everything that has happened? How Shippo turned us into weasels. Why Nobara is getting a manicure from Jaken?" He motions towards Nobara, who flips him off with her free hand.

"Jaken is a skilled demon. You should show some respect."

Jaken hums, his green bald head shines under the light. "That's right, you silly humans. Nothing is too great for the great Jaken. Why I practically invented manicures. No one else knows how to pay attention to the small details like I do."

Yuji turns to look at Megumi, who instead looks so done with the scene in front of him. He does not blame him. There is something so wrong with seeing the green imp painting Nobara's nails as though his life depends on it.

Yuji squints. Are those paw prints on her nails?

"... I'm going to check on Nanami-san," Megumi announces, face turning an interesting shade of pink.

"I'll come with you." Yuji does not want to stay there and watch Nobara get pampered, nor does he want to run into Shippo. That fox is always up to something. "Though how do you know where to go?"

Megumi points to Buyo Jr. who flicks his two tails up in a universal, screw you pose.

Yuji frowns. What did he even do to Buyo Jr. for him to mistreat him so? It's not like he meant to snag his fur with the comb. And it was just one time.

They reach the room Nanami is staying in. There's no guards outside the door like Kagome-san's room. These demons must care a deal for Kagome-san with how much protection they provide her.

He can't even see her unless Shippo or InuYasha are around. Not that he blames them for being cautious, Sukuna has been seething ever since she put those beads on him, and normally he keeps his thoughts and emotions from leaking out. Now it is as though Sukuna wants him to be as miserable as he is.

Eh... on second thought, Sukuna always wants him to be miserable because he's a dick like that.

"Come in," Nanami says.

They walk in and the room is actually quite small compared to Kagome-san's massive room. It's comparable to a closet in an apartment.

"Glad to see you two are alive," Nanami says, from his place in the bed. His eyes are more tired than usual. "Where are we? This isn't Jujutsu High."

Yuji blinks. Does he not remember?

"Kagome-san saved you. We're at Sesshomaru-sama's estate in the sky. They even have a full staff with a chef and a clinic." Not to mention the training room, the freaking two-headed dragon, and there's probably a lot more he hasn't seen since this place is so dang massive.

Nanami lets out a long sigh, a sigh so deep his shoulders slump. "Estate in the sky? So, we're with the demons now? How did she save me? It was soul manipulation. Not even Shoko-san can do that."

"She uses her reversed curse energy for healing and defensively," Yuji says, thankful that he has the answer for once. His cheek moves and Sukuna's mouth appears.

"That's not it. The bitch is a damn priestess."

Yuji smacks his face. Buyo Jr. hisses and jumps on Megumi's head.

Did the subjugation beads loosen Sukuna's tongue or something? Why is he being so damn mouthy, as if anyone cares what he thinks?

"Nothing surprises me anymore," Nanami says. "But if that's the case, why would demons be working with a priestess?"

A spike of energy from behind them cuts off Yuji's line of thinking. The energy is oppressive. Dark. He feels as though he is being weighed down by at least five cars.

"If you have time to chitchat, you have time to train," InuYasha says, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. His golden eyes burn with fury. His dog ears are flat against his skull.

Yuji doesn't know much about dogs, but he knows any animal with their ears pinned back like that is pissed off about something.

"Meow."

"Don't agree with him," Megumi hisses.

"Meow."

"Ugh, fine," Megumi agrees to whatever Buyo Jr. said.

"Come on, unlike the rest of you, Yuta is at least taking the upcoming games seriously." InuYasha jerks his thumb behind him and waits for them to move out of the room. "Ya'll ain't winning shit with your current skill level."

"What games?" Nanami asks, from behind Yuji. He places a hand on Yuji's shoulder and squeezes.

"Culling games is what they are calling it."

"And what are we culling?"

"Sorcerers. Cursed Energy." Megumi pauses. "They also kidnap Tsumiki, so we have to take part to get her back."

Nanami looks up at the ceiling. "This is shit."

Yuji nods his head. If Gojo-sensei were here, these games would not be happening.

This is shit.

#gojo satoru x kagome #gojo x kagome #crossover pairings #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru #inuyasha x jujutsu kaisen #how to tame a sorcerer

[silkscream]

PISTOLWHIP | ii. i hate what this song is about

synopsis: peter parker is in love with his high school best friend, michelle jones, and you are in love with peter’s roommate, harry osborn. when mj and harry start dating, you and peter test your limits in a situation that “benefits” the both of you. how far will the two of you go to satisfy each others’ loneliness?

inspired by the anime kuzu no honkai.

genres: university au, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, fake dating, unrequited love

warnings: explicit content (18+), smut, alcohol usage

wc: 6.5k

a/n: chapter two song reference is cologne by beabadoobee. this reminds me of chapter five of sweetest kill (iykyk) so i apologize in advance. i love you all

series m.list / main m.list / join the taglist

harry osborn [12:31 am]

hey where are u and peter? he said he was gonna come get u

harry osborn [12:45 am]

yo we just went to the velvet stout but text me when ur there so i can fetch my beloveds

harry osborn [1:24 am]

u guys here yet or did u get murdered??????

harry osborn [1:50 am]

helloooooooooo

harry osborn [2:12 am]

help i think peter’s phone is dead and i lost my keys lol

ESU (erotic sluts united) [2:30 am]

harry osborn: GUYSSSSS. IM LOCKED OUT

mjones [2:35 am]

hey dude are you with peter?

Peter Parker isn’t the kind of person who leaves after a hookup. Intrinsically he doesn’t have the pride that would make him want to leave – he’d simply be too tired to think about making an escape while the other person is sleeping. It’s not like he knows the proper etiquette of a hookup that well regardless. What was the reason for sacrificing sleep by leaving in the middle of the night, anyway? He can deal with awkward morning small talk, nor does he mind treating his hookup to breakfast. Peter Parker is not a coward.

And yet, you wake up with your arms grasping for a body that isn’t there. How strange it feels to be empty in your queen-size bed again after getting so used to having another warm body beside you.

Peter Parker is not an asshole because he leaves you a note. One that’s scribbled hastily on a post-it note that he found in your desk drawer that reads, GTG, HARRY’S LOCKED OUT. TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE UP.

It feels so fucking nonchalant that you feel shame in actually wanting to follow through with his request. Is it even a request? Does he really want you to text him? Because “text me when you’re up” can often be an empty message that lets the other person know that they care the barest minimum out of politeness. You’ve known Peter for long enough to perhaps gauge what he might be like in an intimate context, but now that you’re on the other end of it, you have no fucking idea what the norm is. So you crumple up the note in your palm, toss it into your wastebasket, and you try to breathe as best you can.

I slept with Peter Parker last night.

You ruminate about this statement over toast and a homemade matcha latte. Remnants of the night come back to you like vignettes and scrapbook clippings. The blurred image of an elbow. The sight of this boy who’s your friend who happens to be very talented at suckling on the tender spot on the inside of your thigh, which you now see has resulted in a purplish mark in the shape of a heart. By the time lunch comes, you can’t get the image of Peter’s body out of your head.

From the amount you drank last night, you had woken up thinking today was a Sunday, a day when you usually recharge and deep clean your apartment because that’s what the Korean vloggers you like on YouTube tend to do, and you’re just trying to survive your 20s in the neatest way possible.

But no. It’s fucking Friday.

And it’s nearly twenty minutes until your first class.

“Fuck,” you groan.

You’re too tired to keep the tension in your jaw, so you slacken and lean back in the plastic chair you’re sitting in, pausing the music blasting in your headphones to reassess your senses. You hear the bustling noises of the cafe. Your laptop screen taunts you, its blue light burning into your retinas. All the ice has melted in your brown sugar espresso latte, but you decide it tastes better that way.

Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you read your messages from last night once again, chuckling at the thought of Harry sleeping in the hallway of his apartment all because Peter happened to be sleeping in your room. You wonder what time he’d left. You wonder why he hasn’t texted you at all today.

Your finger hovers over his contact. It feels tempting to text him but you force yourself to lock your phone, frustrated by your newfound anxiety. You put your headphones on again and turn your volume as loud as you can handle, and you stare at your email inbox instead.

The door of the cafe opens and you briefly catch sight of a certain head of brown curls. It’s like the universe’s indifference is set out to taunt you, because despite you trying to get your mind off of Peter Parker, he happens to be the exact person who saunters in to take the seat directly across from you.

“Hey.”

You pretend not to hear him, instead scribbling in your notebook with a pen that’s about to die. You watch as the ink bleeds and runs thin, alternating based on how hard you push on the paper, and the boy’s voice drones on in the background. He repeats himself multiple times and you hold in your laughter as you ignore him until he taps on your nose with the pad of his finger. You wince.

“Are you ignoring me on purpose? That’s so mean,” he grumbles, his lips pouting like a child’s. It’s so adorable, the look on his face, that you want to kiss the grimace off of him. There’s an ounce of annoyance when you realize your adoration. You convince yourself that it’s just part of his charm.

“Hi, Peter.”

“I’m sorry for leaving before you woke up. Did you get my note?” he asks, his eyes slightly wider than usual. You notice his fidgeting.

“Yeah, I did. And I’m not actually mad at you or anything, I’m just messing.” He seems to appear relieved when you give him a teasing smile.

“Thank God. Otherwise, it’d be a rude awakening to find a girl giving me the silent treatment because I’m bad at sex or something.”

The comment makes you blush, so you duck your head slightly so that your laptop screen is covering the majority of your face. When Peter realizes you’re flustered, a grin creeps into his face.

“Why? Has that happened?” You raise your eyebrows in a taunting manner.

He stumbles over his words with some kind of excuse, ultimately deflecting the question.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. But I feel bad for leaving. Harry wasn’t even locked out by the time I got home. He wasn’t even home. And he hasn’t responded to my texts which is a little fucking troubling.”

“He’s definitely alive,” you murmur, scrolling through your phone. “He sent a meme in the group chat like an hour ago.”

“Great. I wonder which NYU student he was able to hook up with last night.”

“Does it matter? Let me guess. Hot and blonde. My money’s on a model, too,” you scoff bitterly. You toy with the hem of your sleeve and Peter notices the shift in your mood. Furrowing his brows, he takes your hand in his, massaging your slender fingers with the pads of his own.

“Should we… talk about last night…?” the brunette trails off as you shake your head.

“What about last night?” You play dumb. You’re rather good at it as well considering how much you hate confrontation.

“I just – I don’t wanna make things weird between us.”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. You’re my friend, Peter. I don’t regret it because I’m really comfortable with you,” you murmur slowly, watching his hands at work instead of the fixed gaze on his face. “Unless… you…?”

“No, no. I’m not uncomfortable with anything that happened at all. It was um, really good, actually. Better than I expected. Not like that was something I was planning on for a while! Or like, I didn’t have any expectations because I don’t usually just think about my friends in that way. But I’m not saying I haven’t thought about you in–”

Your attention is completely thrown off when your phone buzzes. Peter stops his babbling, rubbing his red-tinted face.

Caleb sent you a message

Caleb: Still on for drinks? 5 pm?

“Oh shit, I have a fucking date,” you groan, hurrying to gather your belongings while Peter watches you in perplexity.

“You– you do?” he exasperates.

“Yes, in like an hour. God, I haven’t even showered and I look like hell. I’ll see you later, okay Pete?”

You leave the cafe in such haste that Peter’s convinced that you disappeared the way cartoon characters vanish in little tornados. He wonders why the pit of his stomach is so much more present, and why his mouth feels so uncomfortably dry. The taste of you is still on his tongue.

Despite moving to New York City for school, you aren’t sure if you just haven’t adapted to the ways of New York men, or if you just happen to pick up the biggest losers on the planet. Scarfing down mozzarella sticks at the bar seems grotesque from the way that your date eyes you, so you take meager bites like a Victorian woman, sipping your cocktail with gentle, superficial elegance. It’s fucking ironic how your date’s judging you silently when he’d picked out a dive bar that seemed to be exclusively reserved for people who looked like they were rushing for Greek life.

He sits across from you with a look of slight boredom on his face, which is ironic considering you hadn’t been able to get a word into the conversation for the past fifteen minutes. Since your appetizer came, you had managed to mindlessly pick at your food while his voice drones on. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about, nor do you care, until he pauses completely.

“Sorry, zoned out just a bit. Been a long day,” you apologize, attempting a feeble smile. “What was that?”

“I’ve been getting into crypto recently.”

You’re fucking joking.

You want to look at the audience right in the camera like in Fleabag, but your gaze of disgust naturally falls on the man in front of you, quickly turning up the corners of your mouth in a mock smile so that he can feel more comfortable. You don’t love to be palatable for men, but it often feels easier this way so that you can give your polite goodbyes at the end of the night and promptly unmatch the bastard. By the time you do that, you’re usually sinking in your bathtub with a glass of red to wash away the day entirely. You down the rest of your gin and juice like it’s a magic potion that might promise your escape.

You listen to him spout on about the mundanities of bitcoin, negative commentary on Elon Musk that you find yourself agreeing with until he mentions the billionaire’s “innovative projects that will help mankind’s conception of transportation as we know it”, and now your foot is tapping impatiently to the tune of “Tom’s Diner” playing over the speakers.

“Women like you are so fascinating. I feel like I keep dating girls that are kind of… airheads, you know? Always trying to please people, but you… you’re not afraid to be a little offputting and abrasive. I think that’s really cool,” Caleb recites as if he’s monologuing about the date within the confines of his journal instead of having a conversation with you. You imagine that he fucking loves Bukowski. Not to mention, he splits the bill because he’s “pretty much a feminist.” You kind of want to die at the moment.

Eventually, you decline his offer to walk you home while the words offputting and abrasive echo through your mind. You go through hoops wondering about the semantic variations of the statement, suddenly subconscious about your resting bitch face. Ultimately, if the dude thinks you’re a cunt, you accept it. You’ve unmatched him before you’re able to open the door of your apartment anyway.

peter parker [7:02 pm]

hey

i know you’re on that date but i just realized i left my wallet in your room. mind if i get it when you’re free?

you [7:05 pm]

come on over parker

peter parker [7:10 pm]

damn, quick date

you [7:12 pm]

yeah, turns out he had like four sets of eyes and wanted to drink my blood. not really my type

peter parker [7:13 pm]

or maybe you weren’t HIS type

you [7:14 pm]

gee thanks

peter parker [7:15 pm]

no i mean like BLOOD type

you [7:15 pm]

*crickets*

peter parker [7:16 pm]

okay jeez tough crowd

im omw

You wonder briefly if he’s lying, making excuses just to come over and see you alone, but you do happen to see his battered leather wallet on the floor of your bedroom. It’s torn and skinny, decorated in children’s Spider-Man stickers, containing nothing more than eleven bucks, a debit card, and a Metro Card that looks like it’s gone through hell. When you pick it up, a polaroid falls out. You don’t recognize when the image was taken, but it’s a candid of you, Harry, MJ, and Ned laughing in Central Park at night. How awfully tender of Peter to keep it in his wallet. So tender it’s making your heart a little sick.

Before you know it, there’s a knock on your door. When you open it, you catch a whiff of cologne, which you raise your brows at, but Peter doesn’t catch your gesture. He merely lets himself in and takes off his shoes, suggesting he’s here to stay instead of just stopping by.

“Hey, rabbit,” he chirps.

“Hey,” you blink. “Why do you always call me that?”

“Because you’re timid,” he shrugs. “Remember when I first made you go out with everyone? It took you so long to open up.”

“I’m just introverted. And I’m not nearly as shy as I was before!”

“Yeah, now you’re a menace,” he rolls his eyes, grinning.

You don’t know why your blood seems to heat up like you’re entering a sauna. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and yet the mere presence of Peter Parker is something that you grow more attuned to, like you’re seeing him through a clearer set of glasses. You notice the veins on his hands and the freckles on his nose. He’s pretty. You almost tell him but you know that he’d never let you live it down.

You zone out with a glass of red wine in your hand, eyes fixed on your laptop screen but your mind going absolutely nowhere. Someone clears their throat in front of you. Your attention turns back to Peter, who takes a seat next to you on your kitchen island.

“We’re having a thing at ours tonight. You should come?”

“By ‘thing’, you mean getting wasted while Ned drunkenly tries to set up YouTube karaoke on the flatscreen?”

“Precisely,” Peter deadpans.

Awkward beat. Have you gotten worse at socializing with your best friend since you’d slept with him? A more glaring question: does Peter know you consider him your best friend?

“Who’s your best friend?”

“Ned,” he answers without a beat. You figured as such. “Why?”

“Are… are we best friends?” you ask curiously.

“I… yeah, I’d say so.”

“Cool.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. You imagine one slicing through the air like butter. You think briefly about those TikTok videos where things get cut into and you find out it’s cake.

“Is everything okay?” Peter murmurs. He’s treading on uncharted territory. He’s fought aliens and thieves and the police, and yet, asking you about your feelings right now is just a tad harder than all those things.

You look at him and you wonder if he’s about to cry or if the fluorescents are just making his eyes a little glossy. It doesn’t help that Peter always has a perpetual look of something on his face, pupils wide in either shock, wonder, admiration, or every emotion under the sun. If Peter Parker was anything, it was emotive. This made him a terrible liar.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you say quietly.

“H-how was the date?”

You’re grateful that he changes the subject. You aren’t quite sure what you think of everything yet. If there was any more awkward silence you might’ve done the reckless thing and kissed Peter on the mouth. You reflect back on the horrid two hours you had at the dive bar and feel the irritation set lines in your face.

“Kind of terrible, and not even in an entertaining way. He was so far up his ass that I didn’t get any room to speak. Men think that women want to hear them talk on and on about their likes and dislikes like we’re fucking taking notes instead of just being normal fucking human beings and engaging in a genuine conversation. He also called me offputting. And abrasive! Am I fucking abrasive?” you seethe, groaning dramatically as you take a gulp of your wine.

Peter’s expression showcases his brows raised, his pink mouth curled up in a teasing smirk at your exasperation. You want to be annoyed because you just proved your Tinder date’s point, but you can’t help but laugh under Peter’s gaze. You feel relaxed again when he smiles.

“No offense, but you kind of have terrible taste in men.”

“That’s no way to talk about your good friend and roommate.”

“Harry’s great,” Peter defends, shrugging. “He’s also just a fucking idiot. You could do better.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. You wonder what Peter means by that.

“You really think that?”

“Of course. But he’d be lucky to have you, too.”

You acknowledge his statement for a moment, repeating it in your head. You can barely picture yourself with Harry, you realize, and that thought alone was incredibly depressing to you. The strange spark between you and Peter was also a difficult thing to ignore. Biting the inside of your lip, you contemplate.

“What if– what if we kept going with this?” you mumble.

“With…”

You make a wild gesture with your hands, waving them around vaguely. Peter watches the way your throat contracts when you loudly sigh. He smiles at the sight of you flustered. He thinks about a few other ways he could rile you up.

“This. You know. We’re young, hormonal, and we both have unrequited crushes. It feels nice to have that… physical release,” you admit. Your eyes are closed when you say it. As if looking into Peter’s face makes it real. “And, like, I– I trust you, I guess, and we’re pretty compatible–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m down,” Peter shrugs.

“I didn’t realize casual sex was such a nonchalant thing with you,” you narrow your eyes.

“How do you want me to react? With disgust? Also, I think it’s cute how much you’re struggling to tell me that you had a good time last night. I was watching your face do mental gymnastics.”

Your brows are furrowed at Peter’s casual demeanor, and you hate how embarrassed you feel for this arrangement even if it’s what you want. You suppose you haven’t done anything like this before, especially not with someone so close to you. And here Peter is, watching you emotionally flail around while he leans on your kitchen counter looking completely entertained.

Without a warning, your mouth is on his and he grips the back of your head naturally with his large hands, and soon enough, they’re snaked around your waist. His lips are soft and moving with yours like a blooming flower. You want to blame the buzz in your head on the alcohol but you know it’s because of the boy holding you right now. You nibble on his lip slightly before pulling back.

“Sorry, that was really abrupt,” you whisper, eyes raking over the roseate blush adorning Peter’s cheeks.

“No worries. Sometimes messy is kind of hot,” he breathes.

“How’d you like it?”

“I think the answer to that is obvious,” Peter replies, the lower register of his voice coming out between a rasp and a chuckle as he adjusts his lower half.

“Okay, yeah, this works,” you nod.

“Wait, did you just kiss me to confirm this like a business deal?”

“No, I just… wanted to make sure. And I am sure.”

Peter swallows thickly and looks you up and down. He resists the urge to take a finger to a loose strand of your hair that’s fallen over your collarbone. He isn’t sure how casual this was supposed to be – when he was comfortable with someone, one could describe him as touchy, and you were… unprecedented. The fact that he even slept with you makes something reel in Peter’s mind like he’d uncovered something secret. He looks at your mouth. He wants to kiss it again.

Before he can get an inch closer to your frame, you both jump at the sound of his phone ringing. You notice the clench of his jaw when he picks it up.

“Hey, man. Nothing, just at Y/N’s.” He grimaces.

“Okay, yeah, I know. No, yeah, we’ll be there soon. Don’t blackout at the pregame, Oz.”

“What’s up?” you quip, sucking air through your teeth.

“As much as I want to continue this further, the prince is awaiting our arrival.”

You, a glass bottle of Icelandic vodka, and the passing glances of Peter Parker are a rather maladjusted trio throughout the night at the Osborn manor. Harry likes to call it that because the ceilings are still ornate from when a previous tenant, some rumored duchess slash witch, had the apartment renovated during the 1950s. MJ likes to threaten Harry with the possibility of the witch’s ghost coming to haunt everyone in the room if they don’t hand her the aux.

In defense of Harry and Betty’s belligerent drunkenness and shared brain cell, you’re thankful that neither of them has yet to propose a game that would involve chugging any satanic concoctions (the glistening green bottle of Jagermeister keeps taunting you) or shooting a roulette of who would be blessed to make out with them.

At the moment, MJ and Ned are arguing about whether to put on a video game or karaoke, while you stare at the flatscreen as one of the Scream movies plays. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you feel a figure plop down next to you, a bony hand resting on your knee. It’s weird how you automatically expect it to be Peter. It’s weirder when you realize it’s actually Harry.

He clicks his tongue, watching the TV with you for a moment before meeting your gaze and flashing his pearly whites in a wolf smile.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he muses.

“I’m trying to drink slow. I’m in Grandma mode. Spent my pregame at a shitty bar with a shitty Tinder date and then drowning my sorrows with Peter,” you smile casually, gnawing on your lip when you feel Harry stretch his arm to lay on the back of the couch behind you.

“Aww, lighten up, chicken. Fucker’s missing out.”

From the kitchen, Peter’s pouring himself another shot, watching as Harry gets closer to you. He frowns for no reason that he can admit to himself other than the acidity currently burning his throat.

“Y/N! Puh-lease do a Taylor Swift duet with me!” Betty screeches, lighting up the room like the Energizer Bunny.

“Oh, here we fucking go,” Michelle mumbles.

“You like Taylor Swift,” the blonde shoves her gently with a teasing smile on her face. Michelle reciprocates one that’s shamelessly plastic.

“Okay, fine, but not ‘All Too Well.’ I beg of you.”

Within the whirlwind of a few seconds – since when did the boys own a spinning disco lamp? – you’re caught in the middle of the living room as the speakers blast “Blank Space.” For some reason, there’s a glorious revelation you have that could be blamed on the vodka and Betty Brant’s infectious energy, but your chest fills with something warm when you notice your friends cheering the two of you on. Your voice cracks into a giggle when you see Harry filming you with flash on his phone, to which you nearly climb on top of him to snatch the evidence. You slightly fall towards Peter, who’s watching you with equal amusement.

“So hey, let’s be friends, I’m dying to see how this one ends,” you sing into the microphone, towering over Peter on the couch. You brush off the tiny stumble that nearly causes you to fall into his lap. A quick hand to the small of your back sends a shiver down your spine.

“SO IT’S GONNA BE FOREVER… OR IT’S GONNA GO DOWN IN FLAMES!”

“Betty, not on the coffee table, please!”

“Boys… only… want… love… if it’s—” The blonde makes a noise that sounds close to a retch. Or a burp. Either way, the horror that slowly creeps up on everyone’s faces is borderline comical.

“Don’t say I didn’t, say I didn’t, warn ya!” you sing, exploding in a fit of laughter along with Harry and Peter as Ned picks up Betty over his shoulder and makes beeline for the bathroom.

“Ned, hold her hair back!” MJ seethes.

“Dude, did you give her the Jager?” Harry asks Peter incredulously.

“Yeah, mixed with like, Sprite or something…”

“You know how she gets!”

“I thought you meant to make sure she doesn’t have too much.”

Violent retching echoes from the bathroom down the hall. You feel like you’re on an episode of reality television.

“I love her so much,” you murmur, cradling the bottle of vodka like a newborn baby. “She’s like a sorority girl.”

You hold your hands up in surrender when the boys look at you like you have three heads.

You weren’t much of a partier, nowhere near to what your friends were like, which is why it isn’t unusual for you to simply fall asleep at the function. When you blink awake, your eyes squint as you adjust your blurry vision to the coffee table scattered with empty glasses and cans. What alarms you is the sound of high-pitched hissing, causing you to jolt up.

The hissing stops as you hear the sound of a knob cranking. A kettle.

Peter emerges from the kitchen with a mug of tea in hand. You can’t help but look him up in down, cheeks warming as you notice the tight fit of his black t-shirt and the fact that he’s in a pair of Calvins.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.”

“What time is it?” you mumble, tucking your legs into your arms as you blink up at the brunette.

“Almost two. Do you wanna crash here or should I call you an Uber?”

“Where’d everyone go?”

“Ned and Betty went home. Then we started watching Shrek, but MJ and Harry wanted to go to bed. You fell asleep during the movie.”

“MJ and Harry,” you echo. Your confused expression meets Peter’s defeated one. “Are they…”

“Dunno. It’s funny, she usually hates sleeping in other people’s beds,” Peter shrugs, the look of disdain on his face fading into a quiet melancholy.

You feel like you’re in a dream sequence. Your stomach aches with nausea. You hate the way how heavy your head feels and how eerily still and uncomfortable the atmosphere is. Even the mild exhale of your breath feels too loud. There’s a sudden need to leave, retreat into a fetal position, or burrow into a hole like a small animal. There’s also that strange glow, a gravitational pull that you’re trying to ignore between your body and Peter’s.

Eventually graduating towards your nightly ritual, you wordlessly leave to go to the bathroom to rinse the makeup off your face and brush your teeth with the pad of your finger. Like hell were you going to be left alone in your apartment at two in the morning right now. When you turn to shut the light off, you hear the hint of a voice or a murmur. The ghost of a hushed whisper, and then a grunt. You take a step forward and glance at Harry’s closed door. Your eyes widen.

Quickly, you speedwalk as quietly as you can back to Peter in the living room. He looks up from his mug of tea with a puzzled expression on his face. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Let’s watch a movie,” you relay to Peter, your voice monotonous and your figure slumped. He wonders about your change in temperament because within the three minutes you were gone, you somehow came back looking more distraught and dismal. He has the urge to do something to lighten your mood but he doesn’t know what, and he realizes how much he wants to touch you, to hold your face in his hands. The somber look on your face makes his stomach sink.

“Okay?” he frowns, eyebrows pinching together in worry in reaction to your despondence. He doesn’t bother to pry and follows you to his bedroom.

You’re quick to discard your clothes with your back turned from Peter’s prying eyes, which you can feel burning into your shoulder blades. He’d seen you naked before, so you don’t know why you feel a certain heat permeating your body. Quickly, you put on a pair of his boxers and an oversized hoodie.

“What do you want to watch?” he mumbles, attempting to distract himself away from your figure and onto his laptop screen.

“Anything. Star Wars?” you shrug.

“You’re voluntarily suggesting we watch Star Wars?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I could’ve said something way more violent considering what I’m feeling,” you mutter darkly, rushing through your words.

“Why are you–” A thump. The sound of a squeaking bedframe reverberates from the other side of the wall. Peter blinks with understanding.

He settles on The Force Awakens, even though he thinks it’s the worst one for ripping off the plot of Episode Four, but you liked it enough to be fixated for a good two weeks when you were a teenager. It’s comforting. You need all the comfort you can get right now.

You’re grateful when you lean into Peter’s shoulder, embracing his warmth as he gets closer to you. It feels as easy as breathing. You don’t notice the way he’s peering at you, the blue light of his laptop dancing around your features as you watch the movie with a cat-like stare.

Peter’s seen this movie too many times, but he didn’t want to argue with you about picking another movie at this hour of the night. He didn’t even really want to watch a movie at all, but suggesting another activity while he was alone with you made him feel like he was treading on dangerous waters. Even despite the agreement the two of you had made earlier, it felt wrong to engage in it and make it such a recurring proclivity already. Not when you’re sulking in his bed and trying your best to get your mind off of the boy in the next room.

Peter thinks that maybe he should be just as upset as you, but ultimately, he feels kind of numb. Michelle is his best friend, and despite his years of pining, she is so herself that Peter doesn’t want to make a dent in the glass bubble she stays in; he just wants to polish it and make it all pretty for her. And then there was Harry, whose charisma he’d always admired since the day he met him, and he doesn’t feel contempt thinking about Harry being with Michelle. He doesn’t feel angry. But he does feel… disappointment.

The expression on your face is pallid. Smudged eyeliner adorns your bottom lash line – you weren’t the most thorough when you’d washed your face – which gives you the appearance of a worn, cool-girl punk rocker, lips sewed together in a permanent pout. Peter blinks at the curve of your lips. He craves them, wanting desperately to close the gap.

A twinge of guilt. He chooses not to.

Instead, he shifts closer to you in his bed and rests his hand in between your bodies nonchalantly. His fingers land on the curve of your hip and rubs circles into the skin. You turn to look at him and he gulps, wondering what gears are turning in your head and what they might mean. He doesn’t expect you to give in first.

A rough kiss to the mouth and the laptop slides off of Peter’s lap. He discards it, kicking it gently towards the foot of the bed. You attempt to catch your breath when he hovers over you, straddling your body as his hands roam your lower half. His fingers trail from your hip down to your inner thigh. God, you’re so embarrassingly wet and it’s only been two minutes.

Your gasp expels from your mouth and into his. His hand tucks itself under the waistband of your – his – boxers to circle the pad of his finger to your clit. He pulls back from kissing you so that he can watch your face shift in tandem with bouts of pleasure, your sweet sighs hanging in the air. His jaw drops slightly at the sight of you taking off your hoodie, only clad in his boxers.

“You should wear my underwear more often, you look really hot,” he murmurs, the low register of his voice resembling a purr.

You grin in response. You’re eager to tug his sweatpants down to his ankles, smirking in delight when you’ve got him exposed. He blushes profusely.

“Someone’s happy.”

“You are making this so hard,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Oh, I’m definitely making something hard,” you giggle. Before you can come up with another comeback, he shuts you up with a kiss and proceeds to rub your clit. The act elicits a moan that’s a bit too loud for your liking, but when you feel the need to keep in, you think about the next room out of spite. It feels evil. But then again, you think you deserve to get off after the shit day you had.

Peter feels like he’s been kissing you for a decade straight, and the ache in his stomach reminds him that his body begs for your touch. He caresses the slope of your jaw, then your nose with the pad of his finger as if verifying that you’re real. When he reaches the corner of your mouth, you take his digits onto your tongue and suck.

“Fuck,” Peter breathes. You’re more than delighted to hear his reaction to your actions, but you’re too impatient to let this drag out for another minute. As is he, even if he does want to watch you suck on his fingers for the rest of his life.

Two fingers tease the folds of your pussy before sliding in – the way his fingers stretch you out feels like heaven. He glazes over your sweet spot, rubbing gently. You feel slightly flustered at the fact that you’re so, so fucking close, and from your mental timekeeping, it’s been… what? Less than ten minutes?

“Just… fuck,” you hiss, taking the effort to switch positions with Peter. You straddle him to gain dominance and take pleasure in pulling off his t-shirt, clawing at him desperately.

Peter thinks briefly about how his hands don’t feel connected to his brain, because his senses and his body are so attuned to you that he wants to touch every crevice of you – it feels primal, natural. When he hears you beg, he thinks he might combust.

“Fuck, fuck me,” you gasp. “Please, please.”

“Okay,” Peter breathes, being as gentle as possible in the way he grips your hips and slips inside of you. He’s encouraged by the way you moan at the impact, your face warm to the touch as you screw your eyes shut and pull your arms around the boy.

“Faster, faster” comes out of your mouth like a mantra. You can’t think of anything else except Peter’s body slamming into yours and how the color of his eyes would look lovely under the sunrise.

He buries his face into your neck, the desperate groans from his mouth to kiss your jaw. Peter grits his teeth in an attempt to be quieter, but the way that he thrusts in and out from your cunt makes him feel like he’s seeing stars to the point where he can’t even grasp how loud he might be. All he knows is that he wants to swallow up your moans with his tongue in your mouth, and he’s desperate to make you cum around his cock.

Flipping you onto your back, he circles his finger on your bud as he rams into you with a pace that’s unrelenting. You suspend all of your beliefs – you think that you can sink into his bed like it’s the ocean and disappear once he’s done with you.

You know this because he’s about to finish, and he’s looking you straight in the eye, and for a brief moment, he wonders if it’s as real for you as it is for him. Peter is your best friend, you think, but when you linger on the thought for too long, you feel shameful with paranoia that he agreed to sleep with you out of pity. In reality, Peter is so enamored that the more he sees of you, the more he’s convinced you aren’t real. He wants you to know but he can’t get the words off his tongue.

“Gonna cum,” you whisper. Your eyes are closed.

“Hey, look at me,” Peter murmurs after taking his face out of the hollow of your neck. You’re too afraid to open your eyes. He knows this. And yet, he’s able to coax you out of the fantasy. You’re looking right at his dark brown eyes, appearing almost black in the dimness of his bedroom, but the upturned smile on his features and the light dancing around his pupils make you want to cry in the most wholesome way possible.

“I’m… I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck, feel so good around me…”

You forget to tell him when you cum, but he knows exactly when you do. It’s when your body shakes right under him, small hands grasping at the shoulders of his back as if you’re trying to take ahold of his wings. He looks upon you in awe through your orgasm, your eyes shut with your mouth agape in pink bliss. God, you’re so fucking pretty. He wishes he could let you know in a way that lets you see yourself exactly as he does.

After your highs have dipped over the peak of your orgasms, the two of you lay in silence with only your breaths filling the air. You mentally trace the slope of Peter’s slightly crooked nose over and over until you can close your eyes and envision nothing.

You fall asleep first. Peter is up an extra hour or two because of the different ways he imagines your face, the way you talk, and if he’s going to ruin you for other people. He knows this is temporary but he has trouble thinking about you with anyone else.

i. ykwim? ← / → iii. saying your names

tags: @venomsilk @silkholland @g3org1al33 @nocturnalms @edgycatx @sleepingdancer @bluebearxy @marshmellowyellow @hoe-4-sebstan @evanpetersisreallyhot @ronweasleyslut @takenbyheartstrings @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @sinisterspidey @she-wintersoldat @freeshavocadoooo @moonyslantsov @lowkey-holland @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @runawaywithmyghost @mischeifparker @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @letssee2468 @arlo-sanders @adayasgeorgia @spookiespoons @iloveboobs3000 @vigilanteswife @theglitterymess @babyfezco @4ndreaaa @agustdee @trvlllx @mayal0pez @yourlocalomlette @wisdomcrys @sapphosdilemma​ @juliatpwk @starksview​ @noemiix1 @lmnp89 @marohares @pure-a-tea @allazay101 @pixiehollands @babyspiders @ellesalazar @honeyspidey @dark-night-sky-99 @spideyspeaches

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tom holland smut #spiderman x you #marvel smut #uni!peter #tshwritersnet

[forever-rogue]

Prompt list 2: 173 and 194 with Oberyn please?! If you’re still doing them? -💫✨🌈 ps. Congratulations on your follower milestone! U deserve everything baby

Okay, soooo, perhaps this is me imagining this as Sunshine and Oberyn from INO. But totally not necessary!

Enjoy!

Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader ; warnings: soft smut (18+ Only)

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You couldn’t help but stare across the lush gardens as you spotted Oberyn in the distance. He was taking a turn about the palace with one of his many advisors going over one thing or another, in deep conversation as his brow furrowed in concentration. He still managed to look better than anyone should have been allowed to. He was wearing robes of deep orange and gold today, barely tied at the waist, showing off his immaculate golden torso. His hair, now a mess of soft curls, was chocolate and golden under the warm sun, and suddenly you left much more flushed than before. 

You might have the privilege of calling him your husband, but he still managed to stun you in so many ways. Oberyn must have felt something, as he quickly lifted his gaze and found your eyes with his. A small smile tugged on his features as you offered up your own saccharine smile followed by a wave. Shooting you a cheeky wink, which left you hot and bothered more than anything, he turned back to conversation, as if he hadn’t just been shamelessly watching you. It wasn’t just a wink, you’d learned early on into your marriage, it was a promise of so much more. The heat was already pooling low in your belly as you turned back to the flowers you’d been tending to.

“Lady Martell?” you turned to find your handmaiden, Asha, watching you with an intent gaze, “is everything alright? You look quite...flushed. Shall I fetch you some water?”

“Please,” you gave the young girl a smile as she nodded and got ready to head to the kitchens. Her sweet innocence was enough to make you chuckle slightly, “I suddenly feel quite...parched.”

As you plucked and pruned the blossoms, you couldn’t help but think of all the sweet words and stolen kisses that had been exchanged between the two of you here. The gardens, one of your favorite places in the whole of Dorne, serving as a refuge for both of you needed a little break from the real world. 

It was where he had first professed his love to you. Where you had first told him you loved him too. Where he had first gently taken your face in his large hands, and pressed his lips to yours and kissed you until you felt like lovestruck teenagers. So many firsts had taken place in his sacred place, and it would always hold a special place in your heart. 

Just like your love had blossomed and flourished in this garden, so were your blooms and flowers, a beautiful symbol of your relationship with the prince. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hello, my Prince,” you grinned when Oberyn walked through the door of your shared bedchambers, a tired but happy grin on his face when he spied you on the bed, wearing nothing but sheer undergarments, “I’m so happy you’re finally ready to retire for the day.”

“My Queen,” his eyes, soft and honeyed in the soft glow of the candlelight, drank you as he seemed to perk up. You patted the space on the bed next to you, holding your arms out to him, “I would have retired to your arms much sooner, had I been given a chance. Unfortunately, it seems that duties sometimes must be attended to.”

“Of course, everyone wants a piece of the prince,” reaching for the lapels of his robe as you pulled him for a kiss. He smiled against your lips, easily melting into your touch as you dragged him down to lay on the soft covers, “luckily you’re all mine. And you know, I will always wait for you, my love.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” a contented sigh escaped his lips as he looked up at you from the soft, fluffy pillows. You ran a hand through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp, just like he always enjoyed and he practically keened into your touch, “I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered back to him, “you are everything, my prince, and deserve the world. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I have done a lot of things in my life, some good, some great, and terrible,” he mused as you watched him closely, tracing a finger over his features before stopping at his lips, “but the best, by far, is getting to call you my wife.”

“Oberyn,” your heart felt warm, like it was about to burst with butterflies, “you are a poet in every sense of the word, but you mustn’t flatter me. I’m already your wife.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, sunshine,” he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “you have me - heart and soul.”

“As you have me,” you promised him, “always and forever - my moon and stars.”

“Sunshine-”

“For once in your life, Oberyn Martell, please be quiet and let me take care of you - let me love you,” you quickly silenced him with a kiss, swallowing up any words he had, “lay back and relax and be a good boy.”

"And who am I to oppose my wife - my queen?" he crossed his arms and tucked them behind his head as he watched you with a grin, "as you wish, sunshine."

"Firstly," your hands went to the singular button holding together his robe and unfastened it before traveling to his shoulders as you started to push it off. He sat up for a moment to help you, and soon the orange cloth was in a pile on the floor, "you were wearing too many clothes. This is much better."

Swinging a leg over his hip, you effortlessly straddled his waist, causing him to a small, pleasured sound of surprise. You took one of each of his hands in yours before bringing them to your lips and kissing each palm in turn. When you were done, you settled them on your waist as you pulled off your sheer top, leaving you as bare as him.

His grip on your waist sent sparks throughout your whole body, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch. 

Leaning down, you kissed him softly, gently, starting at his lips before trailing kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck. 

"I love you so much," you whispered against his golden skin, kissing along shoulders and collarbones, making sure every part of his torso received some love. You traced along each silvery scar and mark, every freckle and sunspot, before bestowing them with a kiss. You loved every part of him - every last little bit - and you wanted him to know that. 

"Sunshine…" he whispered in your ear as you nuzzled against him, his own hands finding your backside and giving it a good squeeze. You moaned lightly, wiggling your own hips against his, as you felt his hardness against your already wet folds.

"Shhh," you raked your nails along the expanse of his broad chest, "let me love you - fully and completely."

He didn't argue further or so much as make a sound as you kissed down chest and stomach, stopping only when you got to the waistband of his trousers. Taking a moment to kiss his hips, you swiftly pulled down the trousers and let them join the pile on the floor. It was a quick job for you as you pulled down your own sheer bottoms and sent them spilling off the bed.

You could feel his warm, gentle gaze take you in and admire your form - it was nothing to make you feel self conscious or uncomfortable, but a look of reverence and adoration. 

"You are so beautiful," his voice was gentle as his hands skimmed your sides, leaving fire in their wake, "perfection, more so than any god."

"Gold and honey drop from your mouth my prince," you reached for his hard, weeping cock, running it through your folds before slowly sinking down on him. No matter how many times you'd had him, he still managed to stretch you deliciously, "Oberyn."

"You are so perfect," he whispered as you laid against him, wanting to feel as much of his skin on yours as possible, "feel so perfect."

"Mhmm," you murmured as kissed his back and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He slowly rocked into you, matching the languid movement of your hips as he had you. 

You liked evenings like this, when it was only you and Oberyn, and the world ceased to exist, even if only for a little bit. There was no rush, no urgency to get anywhere, and it was easy to get lost in the pleasure of him - every touch, every feel, every sound. 

Your lips barely parted as you made love, swallowing up each other’s moans as your hands roamed the expanse of your bodies. You were quite sure you could feel the love radiating from him and onto you as he smiled against your lips. 

"I've got you, Sunshine," he whispered as he peppered the side of your head in gentle kisses when he left your walls start to clench around him, "you can let go."

His name left your lips in a breathy whisper as you closed your eyes and buried your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulders. The tight coil in your belly snapped and that familiar wash of warmth flooded your veins as your release washed over you. 

His own was close behind as he spelled inside of you, coating your walls with his warm release as a moan of pleasure reached your ears. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, as he held you close and worked you both through your highs. There was no better feeling than being wrapped up in his arms, and if you could choose to never leave them, it would have been an easy decision. 

"Gods, I love you so much," you pulled back and beamed at him, nuzzling your nose with his before kissing again. He nodded in agreement before you slid off and laid on next to him.

"I love you," he pulled back the plush blankets and ushered you under them, following closely behind as he pulled you into his arms, "more than you will ever know." 

"My sweet prince," you snuggled into his chest, resting your head just above his heart and letting the steady beat lull you to sleep, "I love you too. Rest now - everything else can wait."

"You are everything," he promised with a toss to the top of your head as he closed his eyes, "my Sunshine."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #oberyn x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #forever-rogue's follower celebration

[crowtrinkets]

Barista’s Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 2: An Elf, a Manor, and a Catman

The Barista is still trying to find a way out of this strange dream, but they meet even stranger people on the way

Word Count: 3,789

Pt 1

Whooooo chapter 2, I stopped at like 2000 and was like yknow what lets keep going ;u;. Enjoy, gender neutral Barista as always

The dirt crunches under my feet as I follow down the path. Thank god I bought nice shoes for work otherwise I would be covered in blisters by now. As I continue down I spot something in the brush of trees. I get closer and realize it’s a door inlaid into a rock wall. The bushes surrounding it unfortunately are all white giving it an ominous look.

"Go through the creepy door? Or continue in this creepy forest in a strange place?" I ask out loud. Weighing my options I grab the key Felix handed me earlier and put it in the lock. Wincing for a second in fear that this door too will scream at me. But nothing happens and the key turns to unlock the door for me. I walk in and close the door behind me and stop to observe the room I've entered. A yellow couch and a desk sit in the center. There's a large bookcase that extends across the walls and reaches the ceilings, but despite its massive size, there are still piles of books stacked everywhere. Some reaching half my height. In the corner, I spot a kitchenette.

"Man this guy likes to read," I mumble to myself. "What was he asking for again his relic? And Glass-" I stop mid-sentence. Patting the pockets of my apron I pull out the book and glasses I picked up earlier and held them in front of me.

"Right I had them all this time… This is awkward," I mutter and place the items on the desk. "Maybe I can wait here and when he comes looking for me I can ask for a way out of wherever here is," I speculate. My stomach rumbles and I place my hand on it in an attempt to console complaints. My eyes travel to the kitchenette I saw earlier.

"I mean maybe a snack couldn't hurt, he did ask me for a favor," Approaching the cabinets I open them only to find, a small wine bottle that says drink me.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," I grab the bottle to inspect it, opening the lid I take a whiff, sure enough, coffee. Just like the bottle from before. Running a hand over my face I let out a frustrated groan.

"This is the weirdest dream I've ever had!" I look back at the small bottle still open and still in my hand.

"That’s right… a dream," I ponder for a second and then. "Fuck it," I upturn the bottle and empty its contents into my mouth swallowing it like a cheap tequila shot. The flavor of lattes and espresso fills my taste buds and then it's gone. I put the bottle down and inspect my hands, trying to determine if I have grown or shrunk this time. Nothing.

"Well, I guess that wasn’t so-" I stop when my head smacks something hard above me. Letting out a slew of curses I crouch and cradle my poor crown.

"Ow ok, I guess I grew," Still crouching I look around the room, in my rapid growth it seems I had knocked over a few of the many stacks of books. I adjust so I'm sitting on my bottom and try to gauge my situation.

"Ok well I definitely cannot fit through the door," I say as I see my shoe is now much larger than said door. As I shuffle uncomfortably I hear voices approach.

"Well I don't know where he went I asked him to fetch my things but he has yet to return," a familiar voice grows closer, muffled behind the door.

"But the Duke-" an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes! I am aware the Duke is still expecting me but I cannot leave without my glasses or my relic, I will only be a moment," I let out a small gasp when I realize it's Felix. The door suddenly is pushed open but is stopped by the heel of my shoe.

"Oof! What in the heavens," Felix sounds annoyed and confused. I move my foot so he can open the door properly. He pushes the door open and lets out a gasp when he sees me.

"Hi Felix as you can see I'm kind of in a sticky situation," I attempt a joke.

"The giant!" he yells. Felix lifts a fist and green fire emits from his palm when he opens his hand.

"Oh! No thanks," I say and I quickly kick the door closed careful not to break it. I hear shouting and banging on the other side of the door as I use my foot to keep it closed, trying to find some way out. I grab the couch, which might as well be the size of a Barbie's in comparison to my large size, and place it in front of the door.

"I am ordering you to apprehend this giant!"

"Sorry sir you're not Miss Anka you can't order me to do anything," an exhaustive groan escapes Felix.

"Must I do everything myself?" he grumbles. I crawl over to the desk and start to search the drawers hoping I can find anything to shrink me or even to defend myself. I am not in the mood to be burned by green fire. I finally open the bottom drawer and I find a familiar item. A desert case with flan inside labeled "eat me". Without making any second guesses I upturn the case and drop the flan into my hand, throwing it into my mouth and praying I shrink to a decent size. Squinting my eyes closed I wait and wait, the desert case seeming to grow larger in my hand. When I open my eyes it's bigger than before, not comically so but much too large to appear normal. I stand and realize I'm about as high as the desk.

"Ok toddler size is better but still not great," I sigh. The sound of the door cracking startles me and I run to hide behind the desk. I hear the sound of the couch creaking against the wood floor as it is suddenly pushed a few feet back. I hold my breath and peek around the desk. In walks Felix and a man dressed as what I am assuming a knight.

"Where is it?" Felix mutters under his breath. He lets out a yelp when he notices a pile of books, all open and laying on top of each other. When Felix's back is turned as he attempts to right his collection I make a run for the door.

-

I run and run until my legs ache, not even bothering to keep track of where I am going, I stop to catch my breath, doubling over in a heaving mess. After catching my breath I decide to look at my surroundings, I am caught off guard when I realize I am not surrounded by trees but in fact large mushrooms. I look up and inspect the telltale gills many mushrooms have on their underside, backing up I try to take in the scope of just how large this mushroom is.

"Oh my god," I whisper. I suddenly hear the shuffle of fabric on top of the mushroom and a person peers over the edge. The first thing I notice about this person is that they have pointed ears. I try not to stare but I'm so amazed that I forget to speak.

"Well, who might you be hm?" They lean into their palm looking at me with a sort of annoyance crossed with curiosity.

"Oh um, I-I am uh," I'm still a little shocked and the person seems to take note. They let out a sigh.

"Never seen an elf before have you?" They ask. I decide to refrain from speaking and give a slow nod, flushing with embarrassment.

"I would be surprised if you did, you don't seem to be from around here, in all honesty, you look lost and a little naïve," Suddenly they disappear and toss a rope ladder over the side. "Come, join me," They say. I observe the ladder with a sort of hesitance, giving it a slight tug to be sure it won't fall whilst I climb. Deeming the ladder worthy of my ascension I climb up and onto the mushroom cap. Once I am at the top the person I met is sitting, long draping clothes cover their body. Multiple glass jars of different sizes and shapes surround them. In close proximity, I realize just how tall they are, although I am now the size of a child they still appear to be at least 6 feet in height. Once I settle down next to them, they tilt a glass container in my direction.

"Uhm what is that?" I ask.

"Lotion," they say. I mumble thanks and take some in my hand. It smells of lavender.

"Thank you uh-" I hesitate.

"Saaros," they respond. "So what are you doing here? You appear to be a traveler although that get up is not very travel friendly," I look down at my apron and sweater letting out a laugh.

"Oh yea uh, no I'm just lost and looking for a way out," Saaros eyes me, a smirk forming on their lips.

"Oh? And perhaps it isn't because you are looking for love?" they question. A small undignified escapes me as I feel my face warm.

"N-no, I'm lost and I just need to find a way out, I've only met a few people here and besides it's not like I'm- I'm looking for a man named Felix. He has a red waistcoat and messy looking hair, a-and I think he does magic?" I trail off thinking about Felix. I guess he wasn't bad-looking but he mistook me for someone else and then got scared of me as well. What a strange man Felix is. Saaros leans towards me, their smirk never leaving.

"No! I am not looking for love," I avoid eye contact, hoping to see something that will drag me out of this awkward situation. Saaros lets out a hum.

"Very well then, I however must get going," they stand and start to gather the bottles surrounding them and placing the items into a bag.

"But wait, I'm still lost!" I plead. Without another look at me, Saaros begins to climb down the step ladder they tossed down earlier. I lean over the edge and watch as Saaros descends.

"Could you at least tell me how to get back to my normal size? I'm not usually this small," I call out. Saaros looks up at me, an annoyed expression plastered on their face. They sigh.

"Very well," With one arm holding themselves on the ladder they point with the other. "The right side will allow you to shrink, while the left will allow you to grow, simple enough?" They ask. I give a small nod. They then point their hand in the opposite direction from where I came.

"If you go that direction you may find Blackthorn Hall, there you may find your dear Felix," I flush at their use of "dear" but elected to ignore it.

"Thank you," a small smile forms on my lips. Saaros gives me a nod and continues down the ladder, eventually reaching the floor, and disappearing into the forest. Turning back around I look at the mushroom I am sitting upon.

"Right to shrink left to grow," I mumble to myself. I grab a tiny piece of the left side and take a bite. Suddenly I grow much larger, way too large. My legs now dangling over the side of the mushroom cap.

"Too much," I yelp. I take a bit of the right side, even smaller than the last and I shrink down once again, I look at my surroundings trying to gauge if I am at least my normal height. Deeming myself as being back to normal I ascend down the ladder as well, heading the direction Saaros pointed me to.

-

I follow the path Saaros gave me and once I round a bend I stumble across a creepy-looking manor. It's not that it is unkempt or dirty, it's actually rather beautiful, but something about the particular building is giving off an unsettling aura. I let out a slow long sigh and approach its doors. Once I approach the front I find I am not alone. I see a very very large woman standing in front of the door. The door opens slightly, barely giving me a view of who is on the other side. The woman and whoever is on the other side of the door exchange a few words. I can make out the woman's name is Orion, and that the letter she hands him is an invitation meant for the Duke by the Queen, to attend a dinner. The man thanks Orion and then closes the door. Her posture remains stiff and upright, almost military-like, and as she turns around she spots me.

"Oh uh, hello, is the Duke in there?" I ask. Orion's expression remains inscrutable as she looks down at me from atop the steps. She gives me a slow nod and then sits on the stairs.

"Are you waiting for him?" I question, slowly ascending towards the door.

"I am but a messenger, and the next time a letter is sent I will send it again, it's all I do," She responds.

"Oh um, ok," I respond. Ok, that was strange and kind of cryptic. "Well I'm just gonna-" I point towards the door, but Orion's eyes still look forward into the distance. I let out a small nod and walk up to the door, and then I lightly rap on it.

"He won't answer," Orion suddenly speaks up, never bothering to look at me. Just before I can respond I hear the sound of broken glass and yelling. I open the door and a glass bowl suddenly flies out and narrowly misses Orion's head, who doesn’t react.

"What the hell," I mutter. I run inside to see what the commotion is, not even bothering to second guess myself. The door closes behind me and I am suddenly shrouded in darkness.

"Hello?" I call out, my nerves slowly start to build as I attempt to see through the darkness. Walking forward I hit a wall. Running my hands on it I hear a sound to my right. I look over and once my eyes adjust to the darkness I realize I see the outline of light poking out from under a door. Feeling along the walls, I approach the door until my hand finds a doorknob. I turn it slowly, allowing the door to open, squinting my eyes as the light that comes through blinds me.

When I finally open my eyes I can see the room in front of me. A green dining room with a long table with only two people sitting in it. On the left side is a hearth, a woman with long pale blonde hair slaves over a pot mixing its contents. The two at the table however catch my eye the most. They sit across from each other on the short end of the table, whispering and glaring at the other across from them. The man on the right has long dark hair that is greying, his heavy black and green robes compliment the room perfectly, almost as though this may be his house. The woman on the left has dark leather pants and a white shirt with mesh sleeves showing off her plethora of tattoos. I can't help but think they look familiar. The food in front of them consists of soup and wine, a strange dinner choice. My attention moves back to the woman at the cooking pot. No one has seemed to have noticed me yet. Are those… cat ears? On her head? My face twists with confusion. But something moving in the corner catches my eye. A man with a long purple coat and dark pants perches on a windowsill, high up. I realize he is not wearing a shirt and he too has cat ears. His ears are white to match his long braided hair, and the thing that caught my attention was his equally as whitetail. He catches sight of me and gives me a toothy smile, then winking.

"Why does that man have cat ears and a tail," I catch myself thinking out loud.

"He's an Ilpheta of course," I quickly turn my head and realize the man at the table has taken notice of me. An almost sinister smirk creeps onto his lips.

"Well, I didn't know cat boys existed," I attempt a joke, feeling awkward that I've been caught in this man's home.

"You don't seem to know very much do you?" The man says it's more of a statement than a question. Feeling insulted I clench my fists. He's technically correct, I really don't know anything about this place but I don’t need him telling me that.

"Now now Escell, no need to insult our guest," the woman says, peeking a glance at me.

"I hardly remember inviting them Scylla," He responds. Suddenly the sound of broken glass catches me off guard. The cook, who I have confirmed now definitely has a tail and ears, is throwing plate wear at the catman on the windowsill. However, he doesn’t respond when they make contact with him. He just continues to pick at something in his teeth while the woman furiously chucks items at him.

"Be careful you're going to hurt someone!" I shout. The sound of the chair creaking across wood startles me and I see the woman Scylla begins to approach me.

'Well you out to be careful lost one," she says, a flirty trill dances across her lips. Scylla stops at the end of the table and picks up a glass of wine, then holding it out to me. Her smile never leaves her lips. I begin to reach for the glass but I stop midway when the cat man speaks up.

"It's poisoned yknow," he says without looking at me.

"What?" Scylla then grabs my wrist and pulls me towards her.

"Just a sip dear, it couldn't hurt," She begins tilting the glass towards my mouth as I struggle to getaway.

"No!" I shout, suddenly a bright flash of light emits from my hand, knocking me backward and onto the floor. I slowly sit up groaning, I open my eyes and I see that Scylla is nowhere to be found, just a bottle of wine, upon further inspection I realize no one else is here. Escell, the catman, and the woman at the hearth are all gone. I slowly rise and pick up the wine bottle. Inspecting its label my breath hitches when all it reads is "Scylla".

"Oh um…" I mutter, I then place the wine bottle on the table and run back out of the manor.

Once my eyes adjust from the darkened halls to the bright sun outside I close the door behind me letting out a sigh. I notice Orion is no longer sitting in her spot atop the steps. I do however see the catman that was inside earlier. He flashes me another smile which takes me aback slightly.

"Um hello," I give a small wave. The catman approaches me, leaning against the wall.

"Well hello to you," I can't help but glance down at his form, his abdomen poking out from his long purple coat. My eyes snap back up to his and I don't miss the smirk he gives me.

"I'm uh, looking for a way out of here, if you know," don’t stare at his abs don’t stare at his abs don’t-

"Well, I could tell you but, not for free," I wince a little.

"I don’t have a lot of money, and I don't even know your name," I explain.

"It's Sage and besides, I'm cheap," he finishes that off with a wink, causing me to flush.

"L-look I just need to be pointed in the right direction, isn't someone free to go wherever they like?" I ask, hoping he takes the bait. Sage ponders for a moment, looking to the side as his tail lashes about behind him.

"Alright," he lifts a gloved finger and points behind me. "If you go down that way you'll find the Holy Knight, she'll be able to help you out, you'll also be able to find the not-so-holy Engineer, both are beautiful in my opinion though, I won't judge you for having a hard time picking between the two," Sage's smile never falters as he speaks.

"I am not looking for love, just a way out," I speak.

"Well, you must be if you've come here,"

"I am not!" My voice pitches a little and my cheeks grow warm. Sage ponders for a second, tapping a finger on his chin.

"You agree a monster is a monster yes?"

"I suppose so," I say, confused by where he is going with this.

"Then you best avoid them, they'll only drag you down, if you can avoid love you can avoid the monsters" Sage takes a slight step back, clasping his hands together in front of him. I look at him with confusion.

"I don't think you're a monster," I say. I may have just met this strange catman, but something about him tells me I can trust him, in some way.

"You should," he says, almost inaudible for me to hear. "U-uh anyways, are you going to the dinner?" Sage asks, dodging the subject he started. I decide to drop it for now.

"Dinner?" I ask. Sage nods, I then recall the conversation Orion had earlier, the Queen is hosting a dinner. "I guess I am a little hungry,"

"You seem like the type to get around," Sage begins to walk down the steps of the manor and I rush to catch up with him.

"W-wait there's something I don't understand," I say. Sage slows down to my pace but continues to walk towards the forest I came from. "What happened to that girl that approached me? Scylla?"

"She's a spirit now," Sage says, still looking forwards.

"What? What do you mean by that?" I turn around to look at the house once more, my head filling with even more confusion.

"Sage-" I turn around to speak with him but he's gone. I turn around looking for any signs of the cat man dressed in purple, but I see nothing. Letting out a groan I turn towards the direction he pointed me to.

"I guess it's time to pay this Holy Knight a visit," I say to myself.

#fictif #fictif fanfic #fictif fic #fictif last legacy #last legacy #last legacy fictif #fictif saaros #fictif sage #fictif elowen #fictif escell #fictif scylla #last legacy fic #au fanfic

[mudzdale]

u kno what screw it. nuzleaf supermysterydungeon hc timeline

-seedot leaves home and evolves into nuzleaf (around 18 yrs old equivalent). home is where he picked up his southern mannerisms and upbringing, which stick to him like glue despite the extensive travels and experiences he accumulates through his life

-spends ~15 years travelling the world

-encounters dark matter in an evil forest. details unclear but it’s because he opted to delve deeper into what was already a pretty ill-advised exploration to begin with

-agrees to partnership (read: yields to possession) with dark matter, having been promised power, influence, and respect, and they begin to travel the world with nuzleaf as a vessel

-dm already has a few full vessels, including yveltal, but dm and nuzleaf vibe the best. nuzleaf is given responsibility for many of dm's errands

-they encounter and recruit the beheeyem at some point, who become favored vessels due to their preexisting teamwork and psychic power. they were also a voluntary possession, although theyre not as ambitious. they prioritize the safety of their trio

-when a vessel is possessed by dm, they experience the voidlands for themselves--not sent there through being turned to stone, but thru visions such as nightmares, etc. dm uses this as leverage, to threaten its vessels with what will happen if they step out of line, but also to just. make em upset. fuel the stone-making rampage with bad vibes

-anyways. dm at this point is aware of mew having been reborn ~10 years ago, and with more of its plans coming into place, it wants to start tracking down the child heroes. it has nothing on the status of the human hero at this point

-nuzleaf tracks mew to serene village relatively quickly, but doesnt make his presence known

-having ‘secured’ mew’s location, the vessels of dm begin a globetrotting search for the human child, who they assume to be reincarnated as an infant the same way mew was

-dm eventually connects the dots and figures if mew ~just happened~ to wind up next to the sacred spring, the human likely will as well

-about 2 years have passed since dm came into the picture? it has also been recruiting a few more vessels during this time

-nuzleaf returns to serene village and sets up shop, establishing his presence as a villager, while the beheeyem orbit nearby, selecting a mountain cave to settle in (much like their old home)

-nuzleaf and the beheeyem begin to roll out on extensive forays, scouting the world around serene village for signs of the human hero

-it is on one of these scouting trips that they encounter a young pokemon, far from civilization and indeed any other living creatures, close to a small waterfall

-the human child has only partial amnesia at the time, and knows about the purpose to their reincarnation--they have only been recently recreated as a pokemon, at the top of a nearby mountain, and experienced no childhood like mew did. they retain much knowledge and maturity from their past life

-when approached by nuzleaf and co, they all kind of recognize one another--nuzleaf knows this is their missing puzzle piece, and the human can pretty quickly attribute the group’s suspicious behavior to dark matter

-dm/nuzleaf's intentions are to overpower the hero and schlep them up to revelation mountain asap, securing the goods for a fast and hard takeover. the dm gang and hero get into a scuffle over this

-beheeyem's psychic blast renders the hero truly amnesiac this time (although their personality remains largely untouched)

-nuzleaf's mind has been largely overshadowed by dm through this entire process, but upon the beheeyem’s report of amnesia, a moment of "good" nuzleaf shines through, and he decides to take the hero under his wing instead. dm is amenable to this plan, because drawing out its takeover over a length of time will generate more negative emotion from across the world, adding to its collective power

-end scene. script continues on as usual, nuzleaf gets left by dm to largely keep living pretty normally. nuzleaf is willfully ignorant of his growing attachment to the child, believing he is just secure in the knowledge on having an important asset in hand (when in fact hes happy to have this new family member. hes Soft)

-sometimes dm's presence grows heavy in his mind, affecting his mood and opinion of the child sourly (not that they ever know, he is very good at hiding this). "good” nuzleaf is largely content with this lifestyle however

-although hero and partner's departure to lively town was not met with utmost delight on his part, nuzleaf ultimately welcomed their absence as it made his errands for dm MUCH easier. less sneaking around to do, and allowed him to lay a trap at revelation mountain

-at this stage, different vessels were tending to turning to stone various pokemon across the world, especially the big hundos like legendaries (latias and latios, for instance, were attacked by fast-flying vessels). nuzleaf is set on the very precise tasks of setting up their fall guy(s) and ensuring hero stays within reach

-although nuzleaf orchestrated that krookodile's rampage to serene village would attract the attention of the expedition society, it was a coincidence that hero/partner were on the pursuit team. he intended to run to lively town and fetch them himself if necessary, crying havoc

-after the pursuit team get stone'd, nuzleaf and yveltal storm serene village, before collecting the beheeyem and moving on to lively town. they continue to work and hit established communities while hero and partner are in the voidlands, although yveltal takes its leave sometime during that to start attacking more big hundos

-espurr is caught right before nuzleaf and co storm the village, hiding in the bushes atop the mountain. nuzleaf doesnt initially expect to recruit her, but dm suggested her powers might be of benefit, given that the other beheeyem might have their hands full. he doesnt have to do much threatening before espurr keys in and agrees

-espurr and the "manipulation" of the expedition society are nuzleaf's jurisdiction as well, assisted by the beheeyem

-its during this period that the turncoat beheeyem starts showing hesitation. nuzleaf is on it like a fly on doodoo but obv hides it perfectly. starts laying the prehistoric ruins trap

-its not just dm speaking when they spring the prehistoric ruins trap--nuzleaf is exposing how he’s the kind of person who might agree to a partnership with dark matter in the first place. that said, hes not intrinsically THAT mean, and his evil factor is REALLY amped up by the possession. but its still largely nuzleaf in the driver’s seat at this point

-again back to the script. dm tosses its vessels around where they need to be, up until it fully takes over their minds and has them fight hero and co. after their defeat, dm is (temporarily) kicked out of their brains. its PIIIISSED about this and whisks the vessels into the tree of life for what essentially will be a slow and painful death, which is of course subverted by the heroes

-yveltal warps the vessel crew to the bottom of the tree of life, seeking oxygen, where the group stops to decide whether to take action or just give up. most are inclined to the latter, but nuzleaf is determined to go back and help the heroes until dm stops him directly. the others come around to his point of view, and yveltal returns them to the top of the tree

-with dm fully out of his mind now, nuzleaf is real sorry :( distracting the enemy from his kid for even one moment was worth a thousand ends in the voidlands to him

-after dm’s defeat, nuzleaf and co find themselves returning to consciousness in the forest, not far from where the heroes are similarly recovering. before they can get their bearings, arceus slips quietly out of the woods, escorting yveltal away with it for a Very Long Talk. the rest of the crew are scared out of their minds, but in an act of forgiveness, arceus refrains from passing Judgement on them

-with yveltal indisposed, the vessels are again left to follow nuzleaf’s guidance. they find the restored turncoat beheeyem and make up with one another, and decide to quietly withdraw and see what they can do to make up for their sins

-after apologizing to serene village and associated victims, nuzleaf roughs it in the wilderness for a bit, declining the beheeyem’s invitation to their mountain cave. he wants some time to himself (in fact the first he’s had since he encountered dm in the woods, so long ago). he orbits close to the village, however, seeking a glimpse of the hero

-after learning of the partner/mew’s disappearance through the serene village grapevine, nuzleaf vows to do whatever is necessary to help his kid, however he can. the beheeyem are of a similar mind. they get in touch with the expedition society asap

-follow script, etc etc. nuzleaf’s natural stealthiness is of benefit when it becomes necessary to track the hero’s movements

-after the partner is restored, the beheeyem return to their mountain home again, deciding amongst themselves what their next move will be. nuzleaf tries to leave serene village for good, having done his bit, and wanting to spare the hero any further angst regarding his presence. however, the hero stops him and convinces him to stay and recreate their little family home, which nuzleaf accepts

-partner and the hero return to the expedition society for a couple of years, conducting explorations and making frequent visits home. mawile comes up with the idea to plant an expedition society branch on revelation mountain, after she discovers that not only has the sacred spring not lost its power, but that the luminous water there is slowly returning. the site is marked a protected location, and the child heroes are put in charge of the new branch

-the beheeyem, the other village children, and the heroes’ parents are among those recruited to the new branch. the beheeyem handle most of the admin work, and the schoolchildren embark on a variety of explorations as they grow up, travelling between the city and village locations

-hero and partner more often than not form an exploration team with their dads, making a four-person expedition group that goes out for long expeditions. the kids are able to experience more quality time with their parents, carracosta can spend time protecting his child, and nuzleaf can sate his wanderlust without abandoning the ones he loves. its a solution that keeps everybody happy

-and they all live happily ever after :)

#oh my gosh. bullet point essay... mortifying #golly gabs #long post (under the cut) #pokemon #psmd #nuzleaf #its. i dont often create hcs for fictional little men so this starts off based on the original text and then strays wayyyy into self ind #ulgence territory. srry

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “For Cosmetic Purposes.”

Hope everyone enjoys the story and has a wonderful Tuesday.

Three shuttles skimmed across the open sand, kicking up clouds of blue dust into the shimmering heat. The Sun beat down from above through the hazy green sky. The sand shimmered in the heat and a gentle wind blew streams off the top of dunes.

“Alpha one to Bravo one, seen anything yet?”

“Negative alpha one, still searching.”

“How about you charlie.”

“Nothing yet.”

“You would think with the tracker he'd be easier to find.”

“Ts all the dust in the atmosphere interfering with the signal. Generally it should be able to pinpoint him to within ten feet, but with the dispersion, that ten foot circle has become more like ten miles.”

“Ten miles is still better than a whole galaxy.”

“Think he's alright, if he got caught in that sandstorm…..” The comms went quiet, the marines unwilling to think of what that might mean.Admiral Vir was…. Well a survivor. He had served so many things that to think a sandstorm could have taken him out was almost preposterous. He was like a fixture on the galaxy, and to loose him would be like losing the part of the universe that was human.

It was just then that the three shuttles crested over another low hill, only to see a glint of darkness against the blue sand.

“Hold on, i think we got him.”

The black sport was moving, just cresting u the next rise, walking slowly back towards civilization.

IT turned as the three shuttles rolled forward.. 

He stood against the green sky, boots planted on the blue sand. He had a scarf wrapped around his head to keep the sun out, and a delicate wind rippled the cloth. The only thing visible was his eyes.

They pulled to a stop coming to rest on the soft blue sand of the dune.

The door opened and Ramirez walked forward to greet the Admiral as he strowed over the sand and into the shuttle.

“Where’s Su-”

The Admiral brushed past him without so much as looking at him, marching to the front of the shuttle. He trailed sand as he went, the little blue particles were crusted into every inch of his visible clothing, seeming to have integrated themselves into the very fabric itself.

“Adam?”

He paused by the pilot’s seat, looking down at the young man with an expression that could could have crystalised the blood in the young man’s veins, “You’re in my seat.” 

The young pilot quickly scrambled out of the seat and stood at near attention beside it as the admiral took his seat and strapped in, is clothes making a painful creaking sound with their heavy sand content.

“Adam wha-” “They took her.” The man said, “They took her.”

“What, who did they take…. You mean…. Sunny?”

Adam didn’t answer, but engaged the ship’s engines and lifted them off the sand. Ramirez and the young pilot were forced to stagger back and strap themselves in to the seats.

The man’s movements were quick and precise, but somehow hinted at an ever increasing violence underneath.

Adam as he had been was no longer here.

***

Sunny awoke with a pounding head and a sandy tongue. Her throat and breathing holes were so parched that she had trouble breathing and certainly speaking as she wheezed to life. She tried sitting up but immediately bashed her head on something hard and metal. She winced leaning against the ground and looking around,

It was dark, and difficult to see, but reaching out with her four hands she could feel the walls of a metal box end clothing her from all sides. Her heart hammered as she realized, and the air in the box seemed to grow heavier as she pressed against the sides, trying to push the box open.

When that didn’t work, she pressed her face up against a single airhole, just about eye size and sucked in some cool clean air. Her body was shaking, but she forced herself to calm down and lay back, arms lying crossed over her chest. She was going to be ok, if she could just calm down.

She took another deep breath and listened hard.

Through the box she could feel the rumbling of the ship's engines unfamiliar to her seeming ominous where the rumbling of the Omen might have been calming. And then, just above that, she thought she could hear voices. She leaned her head forward, pressing the side of her head against the hole allowing the sound to funnel down to her..

“And this stuff really has medical value.”

A snort, “Of course it doesn’t, do you think rhino horn had any benefit other than  witchdoctor shit.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I don’t know, it's supposed to  be full of calcium or some shit. Whatever it is, its colorful and shiny, and people like to take it in pills, and then you can grind the rest up into a powder and mix it with nail polish. Supposed to last months.

“But that's all bullshit.”

“So is crystal healing and fumigating your anus, but people still do it.”

The other voice grunted in a half laugh, “Alright, alright I get your point. How much does one bottle go for.”

“If we keep scarcity up, than about 100,000”

A squeak of shock, “That much!”

“Well since diamonds are so readily available these days, they had to come up with something more interesting. Now capturing a live Drev and grinding them up into beauty products is a pretty dangerous task, so hence, the price goes up.”

Sunny sat back in her containment, wide eyed.

So it was true than.

All of the stories and rumors.

And now she was on the receiving end.

“The blue one will fetch a nice price I think. Seems healthier than the others.

“Take her out of the cage, make sure she’s gassed good before you try. Drev are worse than humans when it comes to captivity. They’ll do anything to break your neck.”

Sunny heard footsteps approaching across the floor and scrambled inside the box kicking and clawing at the lid desperately trying to get out.

“She’s lively!”

She heard a sharp, cachunk as something was attached to the outside of the box, followed by a sharp hiss. Almost instantly she felt her body go limp and she flopped back against the metal unable to move as the lind was pried open and light assailed her eyes.

A grinning human stared down at her from above, bright blue eyes and dark black hair.

The smile was the kind of malicious smile humans get when they mock you.

“Hello little scarab, are you ready to make us lots of money.”

They weren’t covering their faces, and that is when Sunny knew that they didn’t plan to let her go. The man leaned down, hooking some chains under and against her arms before motioning to someone outside her view.

There was a whirring, and the chains were raised, her with them.

Her carapace scraped against the box.

“Hey, don’t damage the merchandise!”

“Sorry boss.”

She was stopped, hanging vertically as the two men stepped forward and began to examine her, tapping against her carapace.

One of them tapped a nail against the front of her thigh, “Looks like someone’s already taken a piece, look, she's missing some in through here.”

“A pity, but the back will do well enough

“Take off a little from her shoulder, grind it up and see how it looks.”

Sunny rotated slowly on the chains as the men moved to get their tools, and as she did her eyes fell on something… something she didn’t want to see, something so horrible she wished she could look away, but only managed to close her eyes, moaning in horror and fear.

That was her fate.

***

The three shuttles touched down on the Pirab docking station and when the doors open, admiral vir stepped into the sun sand grinding against his skin. The marines followed behind him, scrambling like rats as he made his way across the tarmac to where the Tesraki docking master was talking to a set of Rundi guards.

The admiral completely bypassed the guards stepping up to tower over the Tesraki.

“Where are they!” he demanded 

The Tesraki backed away his hands raised.

“Where are who.”

“The smugglers, where are they. I know they were heading to this docking station. They would have come in during or right after the sandstorm.”

“I assure you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The marines yelped and lunged forward as the admiral reached down and grabbed the Tesraki by the throat, hauling him into the air, “You are impeding a GA investigation. Now tell me again WHERE THEY WENT!” Rtamirez grabbed his hand, and pried it off as the Tesraki fell back to the ground choking and mewling.

“I don’t know.” He stammered out, “I don't know. They came in early this morning and left on their ship. I can give you the tag numbers and their general heading, but that’s all, I swear.”

Adam snarled, and the tesraki squealed scrambling to pull up the information on his holopad.

The marines looked on in shock and concern.

“Admiral.”

Adam held up a hand silencing Ramirez.

“here , here, just take it.” The Tesraki pushed the holopad into the human’s hands and then scrambled the pack. Adam stared at it for a few moments as the information uplinked to his own implants, and then tossed the holopad onto the sand where it sent up a could of dust. He then turned and marched back towards the shuttle with the marines running after him.

“Admiral.” Maverick tried this time, but he ignored her entirely, stepping ont othe ship and focing himself towards the font of the bockpit.”

He was so angry his hands were almost shaking, and only moving, only action could keep him from his fear… the fear that she was dead…. Or worse.

As soon as he stopped moving he knew the tears would come, knew the fear would paralyse him, so he kept his mind focused and forward on one single goal.

He had to rescue Sunny.

He had to.

There were no other options.

***

Sunny screamed in agony as the whirling blade ground through a piece of her carapace. 

If she could have moved she would have kicked and struggled against them, but it was no use. The blade whirred to a stop and she panted in pain and fear.

One of the men pulled back taking the chip of her carapace and handing it over to the other man, who brought it across the room to where a large machine stood.

He dropped the piece in through the top, and she listened to the grinding sound as the carapace was ground into dust, all while her eyes were fixed on the horrible sight to her front.

Drev, Drev hanging in chains, in various states of tortured.

The one on the right looked almost whole, but the one on the far left…. She couldn’t even look.

She hissed in quiet disgust and fear at the carapace-less Drev hanging listless and broken against the chains, every last inch of him stolen from what he once had been. 

That was going t obe her

That was her fate.

And now she couldn't move, couldn’t fight.

Please, Adam….someone…. help.

[sburbian-sage]

Strifing Without Specibus: How To Weaponize Your Sylladex & Other Harming Implements

One’s Strife Specibus is one of the more important tools in the game. Defending from Underlings and PK’ers, facing down the final bosses and Unreal Heirs, fruitless sparring with your Guardians and Coplayers, and the time honored tradition of getting into dick-measuring contests with your friends, seeing who can make the coolest or most absurd method. Some people allocate their Specibus accidentally, but as their improvised weaponry grows on them, they “main” it, trying as hard as they can to keep using it in future sessions. Your average Player will use a variety of Strife Specubi, from typical weapons like bladekind, pistolkind, and hammerkind, to weird choices like bookkind, peprmillkind, or rulerkind (measuring sticks, not governing bodies). Some people choose theirs because they like it, some choose for versatility, and some choose for metagaming purposes.

Sometimes though, the Strife Specibus isn’t enough. You’ve got some wimpy kiddy scissors that just won’t cut it while an Ogre prepares to swing. You’ve got a lance, but a winged Imp flies out of reach. You’ve got enough mangrit to toss a dryer, which you conveniently have on-hand, but no dryerkind, and the strange abstracted game-y nature of reality thus prevents you from attacking with it. In such cases, instead of un-abstracting your Strife Deck for the purposes of tossing it on the floor and stepping on it, perhaps you should get good and learn how to weaponize your Sylladex.

We’ve all been there. We’re having trouble fighting things, so your smarmy know-it-all friend tells you “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub” and then doesn’t tell you how to actually do it. So you flail around, then learn how to do it kind of, and then stop doing it and rely on your Strife Specibus. Then years later, someone with less experience than you is having trouble fighting things, so you tell them “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub". With typos, because you’ve turned into a silly mspaint strawman comic man. And then you cry. It’s a vicious, dehumanizing cycle, and you probably want to punch that guy or yourself, but you can’t because you don’t have fistkind you fucking scrub. You also can’t throw stuff at him, because you learned the bare basics of Sylladex fighting so you’re very shitty at it. So I’m going to help you break that cycle, and teach you actual lessons of fighting with your Sylladex. That way, you can walk right up to that dude, then toss a bunch of cream pies at him, then watch him scream and cry like a silly mspaint strawman comic man. Then you can do it to your past self. Then go mad with the power of throwing things.

The Fundaments: How Do I Shot Web?

I wrote this section after all the others because I realized too late that some of you might not even know the basics of weaponizing your Sylladex. That’s sad and pathetic, but it’s not unlikely, and best to put it here now rather than get accused of putting the cart before the horse later. Basically, you know how if your Sylladex is full, if you captchalogue something else, it goes flying out at high speeds? This is the mechanic you are exploiting. Catchaloguing an item such that it ejects something you’re holding on. The following section will be divided into Taos (even more fundamentals) and Zens (more advanced tricks), because I read a book that did this once and I thought that was cool.

Also, you should know that Hope players will be better than you at this. [Eject] is a Hope-exclusive ability that automatically ejects something from their Sylladex, and it’s very easy to learn, and it completely removes half the challenge from weaponizing your Sylladex (that is, finding something to put into the thing). While you’re scrambling for rocks so you can launch your fridge, they’ll be launching fridges at a whim. If you’re not a Hope player, then do what everyone else does. Bitch about it and move on.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Fetch Modus

If you’re going to be using your Sylladex to fight, know how it works. Even babies know how to pick stuff up, but sometimes babies get confused by how their particular Fetch Modus actually works. And maybe you’ll get confused even if you’re not a baby (read: teenager), particularly if you get dropped into a new Session and the guy whose place you’re taking is a hipster and decided to grab one of the most esoteric Fetch Modi known to man. So make sure, before you even THINK of mis-using your Sylladex for violent purposes, that you understand how it works. And check the back, because there might be settings.

Once you’ve done that, you need to re-learn it again. This time, understand how it works in combat. Particularly, how does it eject, and how can you use it? FIFO and FILO Sylladice will eject the earliest item. Hashmap ejects the item occupying the slot you’re attempting to fill. Tree doesn’t eject so much as stuff falls. Array is wonderful for inventory management (even though I prefer Index), but it ejects stuff randomly. Enabling the “detect collisions” setting also makes inventory management easier, but considerably slows down the speed at which you can weaponize your Sylladex. How long does it take to actually captchalogue items? Is it complicated, or unwieldy? When something gets ejected, how does it fly? It’s somewhat complex, re-assessing your understanding of your Sylladex, but some general tips are as follows.

Knowing what will eject is better than random ejection.

More space means more stockpiling, but it becomes harder to keep track of your stuff.

Less space means you know your inventory better, but you have less room to maneuver and can’t stockpile as well.

Turn off “detect collisions” if you want to use your Sylladex in battle.

Short and uncomplicated captchalogue mechanics are better.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Inventory

Now that you understand how your Fetch Modus functions, you need to understand its contents. Your Sylladex will serve two functions. An inventory, and an arsenal. “Inventory” basically means “stuff for use in puzzles and alchemy”, “arsenal” means “stuff I will use to commit murder with”. Just as it’s good to have a Fetch Modus that can serve those two functions, it’s good to have a balanced inventory. Key items, and tossable junk items. It’s also important that you know what’s going to be used. Safely take out keys, and toss your dishwasher, not the Glass Orb of Not Softlocking The Game.

As for your arsenal, understand what does and doesn’t make an effective weapon. Straight razors and sharp and fly fast and long, but they’re small and might break. Fridges are big and heavy, so they’ll do a lot of damage, but also destroy the environment and have bad range. Make sure as shit you’re out of range of your impact bombs when you let them loose, and don’t toss garden gnomes if you’re trying to knock back a Giclops. While they fill the role of bullets (with the Sylladex as the gun), they’re more like specialized tools that are all used by hurling them at people you don’t like.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Surroundings.

Understanding your battlefield is not only important in general warfare, it’s also important when considering your throwables. While most Players who stick to their guns (so to speak) will mainly traverse their Land only looking for that which is essential to winning the game, you need to traverse it while understanding it on two levels.

The first level is the Strategic Level. Understanding your Land as a whole, and how to utilize the TOYS (Tools Of Your Surroundings) within. If you find yourself low on Sylladex weapons, where you can stock up, and what will you be stocking up on? What’s the fastest route to those locations from where you are? Does a certain location have better weaponry for the specific foes you’ll face later on? Stuff like that.

The second level is the Tactical Level. This is understanding your immediate surroundings while in a fight. What items can you quickly get to? Which ones should be used for ejection, which are best for softening the enemy up, and which are best for dealing lethal blows? Is it at all possible to make new items, like smashing the tile floors or breaking a window and captchaloguing the ensuing debris?

It’s a bit difficult to give blanket lessons on this Tao, but it’s always keep an analytical eye. You should know where your TOYS are before you need them, lest you get caught with your pants down.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Art of the Adventure Gamer

You could tag SBURB as a lot of games. AR MMO survival psychological action adventure with house sim elements. Early-access too, considering how shitty it is. But don’t forget the adventure part. Have you ever played those point-and-click adventure games like Monkey Island or Sam & Max, and been amused with how the protagonists will take completely random and sometimes absurd objects because they could be useful? Well stop smiling, because they’re always right and you need to start doing that too.

First of all, you should already have been doing that. SBURB is also a puzzle game, and not only can potentially any item help you with puzzles, but every item could be useful for Alchemy purposes. Well now you need to add “killing stuff” to the list of potential uses for every item. Diagnose yourself with severe kleptomania and start acting like it. Grab everything you can! Use everything on everything! Stack up on Captchalogue Cards! Seriously, they’re dirt cheap for the Alchemiter. And speaking of Alchemy...

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Alchemy Isn’t Just For Weapons

Everybody loves going down to their Alchemy Pad and making new weapons, new armor, new tools, and a whole lot of useless bullshit. It reminds them of the satisfaction of upgrading their equipment or buying a new level of gear in the other video games they’ve played. Those video games, however, also tend to teach you that upgrading your ammunition or spending money on special ammo is a waste of time. It is, but not necessarily in SBURB. While improvised weaponry for Sylladex fighting is comparable to ammo, the ease of Alchemy means that not only is is usually cheap to make “upgraded ammo”, but they can be pretty effective. For example, throwing a couch at someone will hurt. Steel nails are very easy to acquire. A bit of Grist and the || function later, and you’re throwing a steel couch at someone. Not to mention, like that couch, some ammo is easy to retrieve. So next time you settle down to celebrate Gristmas, consider loading your Sylladex with some harmful objects.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Mod Your Modus

Now that you know you should know your Sylladex, you should begin experimenting with it. If you can, grab a Modus Control Deck and a couple of extra Fetch Modii. If not, then you could try Alchemy or perhaps programming. Mix-and-match modii until you have something stronger, then once you’re settled, get to understanding that. Try to find a way to circumvent the weaknesses of the one you’re currently using. It’s kind of like sitting down at a gun bench, except your gun should also be able to carry stuff effectively, and is infinitely more confusing to comprehend.

Speaking of the Modus Control Deck, remember that you can use it to change the Fetch Modus you’re currently using. It’s possible to change Fetch Modii manually, but I find the MCD is more elegant and simple. So it might be a good idea to have several Modii for several occasions, and use the one you think you’ll be needing. For example, use something Inventory-suited like Index when exploring, and when you’re expecting a fighter, switch to something Arsenal-suited like Fingerbands. Just remember to not displace the MCD, or you’ll be running around with the one you’re using forever.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Fighting At Full Power

This is the Zen that makes you feel like a warrior. If you intend to fight with your Sylladex, you need to remember that it is one of at least two weapons at your disposal. You also have a Strife Specibus. You must use both if you want to truly succeed. Throw something heavy at a Giclops, then pepper him with bullets. When locking blades with a Lich, stun him with a surprise vase, then riposte. I once saw a guy with Hammerkind augment the swing of his sledge with a safe going at breakneck speed, so his strike went at terminal velocity and tore a Basilisk in half. You’re going to have to learn how your Strife Specibus factors into all of this, and probably practice, but by mixing conventional warfare with captchalogue warfare, you become significantly harder to predict, and much more deadly.

#sburb #replay value au #sylladex #strife

[henrylevesconte]

19 for pete/grouch also I love u very much

19- drunk, at the end of your rope

TW: descriptions of death, Pete and Grouch are bastards, and my bad attempt at a Cockney accent. 

Pre events of the Hateful Eight. Spoilers for the movie if you haven’t seen it. There may be a second part but it can’t be put up on tumblr for explicit reasons.

There’s a snapping sound of rope upon flesh and the hangman swings;

Once

Twice

Three times before his limbs cease to struggle and his proverbial soul leaves his body. There’s an incredibly cruel irony, one that makes Hicox grin as he looks up his victim. Who hangs the hangman? Pete thought of all the sad bastards that were just trying to support their family or pave their way through the cruel life that comes from living in the American west that met their end to the man before him.

Oswaldo Mobray

A fop name for a lawful killer. The prat probably never thought he could end up like the filthy criminals he put down for a living. But now Mobray didn’t have to worry about anything, he was just a fresh corpse strung out on a tree in the middle of nowhere Wyoming territory. The only people who would miss him would be the lawful citizens of Red Rock now waiting on both a hangman and a new sheriff. Maybe the other would arrive, Pete had no idea who that man was anyways nor was he paid to care.

“Cut ‘em down, Joe. Think tossin’ him in the snow bank for now should suffice. They won’t find him until spring and by then, ain’t our problem.” Hicox chirped to his partner, shifting his gaze from the corpse to the big man. Joe “Grouch” Douglas, all dark hair and glacier blue eyes winked at the Little Man before using his work knife to cut the rope in one fluid motion. Mobray crumpled to the ground, making the fresh crunch loudly from the dead weight. Grouch lifted their victim with ease, carelessly tossing the man to the side of the wagon trail as if he were off loading hay.

Despite his age (Grouch never mentioned his real age but the Domingre’s still celebrated his birthday every year, and Pete could hazard a guess), Douglas took the heavy work with ease. The Little Man followed swiftly behind him to kick snow around Mobray, entombing him in an icy grave. Grouch took care of the rest of the evidence of them ever being there, it went without saying, after all they had killed hundreds of people like this before.

Pete gazed down at his job, it was sufficient and with the heavy clouds above, they were going to get more snow soon. It would probably begin on their way back to Coopertown and continue into the night. December’s in Wyoming Territory were always cold and heavy with snow, which would make their job either easier or harder, his bet was harder. The Little Man rubbed his gloved hands together as he moved to rejoin his partner at their horses.

“Got something to warm you up on the ride back.” Joe’s graveled voice echoed in the wood, sending a shiver down Hicox’s spine. He had been with the Domingre gang for a decade now and partners with Douglas for nearly fifteen. They met in some shit town, in some shit county, at some even shittier saloon. Pete had been bold enough to try to pick pocket him for his billfold after a few rounds of drinks and charm on his part, Grouch immediately caught him red handed and instead of killing him or handing him over to the authorities, he offered him a partnership. Thieves, robbers, and occasional killers. It was a good gig and they were incredibly in tune with one another.

“I was hoping you could but I can wait.” He bolstered back, earning a pearly smug smile from Joe. He extended a flask to the Englishman after he had gotten situated on his nag. “You devil. It better not be any gin.” Pete teased, opening the contents and knocking back a much needed shot before he could answer. The whisky stung on the way down and made his face warmer than a summers day. The liquid courage helped as he got situated on his patient steed.

“Oh it ain’t, honey. Don’t worry your heart.” Grouch retorted, taking the open flask from him and having his own share. Grouch was a mean bastard to many, as ruthless as they came but he was sweet as could be when it was just to two of them.

“Didn’t know I needed that.” Pete grazed the corner of his mouth with his glove, mopping up the excess alcohol so it wouldn’t freeze his face on the ride back to Coopertown. After traveling with the Domingres for so long, Hicox had seen plenty of small, depressed western towns on the edge of wagon trails, kept alive by patrons and miners looking for glory. They all blended together after awhile.

“Yeah I figured that we’d need something after doing the shit work.” The big man nudged his horse into the right direction. Grouch’s own grey work horse was tied to the deceased Mobray’s stallion that would fetch a fair price once they got back into town. Good, healthy horses were the staple of the west and they needed every penny they could get if they really were going back to Mexico after the Daisy job.

“Now, now. Killing fops is easy, compared to rubbing elbows with coach drivers.” Pete gloated, spurring his own mare forward. “Jody can have all that, he’s got enough charm and patience for it.”

“You just like killing people, Pete. Ya ain’t got to put on a front for me.” Grouch rolled his pretty blue eyes hard but his teasing had not bite to it.

“And you do too, Joe. You ain’t the type to sit in pool halls and rub elbows with rubes.” The Englishman pointed to his partner, their voices carried on the empty road eerily as they continued on. “Now give me a little more of that so I don’t freeze my bollocks off on the ride home.”

“I can do that, Pete. Just don’t fall off your horse.” The Cowpuncher snorted, tossing him the flask which he nearly dropped between them. Hicox huffed, unscrewing the top and knocking back another swig.

“Wouldn’t you love to see that.”

#ask #the hateful eight #hateful eight #h8 #joe gage #grouch douglas #oswaldo mobray #pete hicox #grouch douglas/pete hicox #the tarantinoverse #i write sins and tragedies

[elesianne]

hii ive been your huge fan ever since i read curufin and netyare’s story like three years ago? i think; it actually inspired me to start writing myself! so thank you for that immeasurably 💖 for the celebration maybe try gen ambarussa? only if u want ofc have a great day and congrats on reaching 400 ❤️

Aii, that's the last anon from Ambarussa. I forgot the prompt so if i can, maybe try 43? have a nice day 🌼

Hi anon! Thank you for your nice words ☺ I’m happy to hear that you’ve been reading my fics for a long time and that they’ve inspired you! 💜 It took me a few days to fulfill this prompt (’Are you drunk?’) but here's some Ambarussa for you, with some other members of the family who snuck in too. Very quickly written so there might be idiocies.

~1,100 words. This takes place when the tensions among the Noldor are beginning to emerge. There is alcohol use in this.

Telvo = Telufinwë = Amras; Pityo = Pityafinwë = Amrod Tyelko = Tyelkormo = Celegorm; Makalaurë = Maglor

*

Brotherly brooding

'Are you drunk?'

As it happens, Pityo isn't drunk, just spending some quiet time in his room. He'd wouldn’t mind being drunk, he realises.

He lifts his head. 'Do you want to – damn, Ambarussa, what happened to you?'

Telvo's face is bruised and swollen. Pityo gets up and inspects it.

'I don't think your nose is broken, but you should go and get some ice for it anyway.'

'It'll heal soon enough. My own fault, anyway.'

Pityo takes one more look at him, sighs, and goes dig out the bottle of strong spirits from the deep trunk in the corner where they keep the things they'd most like to hide from their brothers. It doesn't always succeed, of course, especially since Tyelko likes to 'borrow' things without asking for permission, but this time the bottle is still where Pityo stashed it some weeks ago.

He hands the bottle to his twin and says, 'Hard to believe it's your fault your nose is broken, unless you went running your mouth again at –'

He doesn't need to even name the person.

'I might have', Telvo says.

Pityo sighs. 'I'll get some ice from the kitchen.'

Nodding his thanks, Telvo slumps on the floor, leaning against his bed.

Pityo rolls his eyes after he's turned his back. He's not a paragon of patience himself, but Telvo is worse.

When he gets back to their room carrying a bowl of ice and a clean towel to wrap it in, he finds two brothers on the floor, taking turns 'enjoying' the mouth-burning spirits.

'What's wrong with you?' Pityo asks Tyelko as he passes the ice in the towel to his twin. 'You look like you lost a fight too, though there doesn't seem to be a scratch on you.'

'Írissë is mad at me', Tyelkormo says, sullen and miserable. 'I didn't mean to insult her father. Not while she could hear, I mean. But she heard anyway and got mad. She didn't even pet Huan.'

Huan sighs and looks forlorn as he settles over Tyelko's feet.

Pityo sighs, too. 'You two should just stay away from civilisation.'

Tyelko kicks his ankle. 'Brat.'

Pityo sits down, squeezing himself between his brothers because he wants Huan to be his foot-warmer too.

'Well?' Pityo says. 'Give me the damn bottle, too, then. Since we seem to have chosen drunken brooding as our activity for the night.'

Telvo shoves his shoulder, just a little in a friendly manner, and passes the bottle to Pityo.

They sit in silence for a while, apart from Huan's quiet snores.

'You have a brood of puppies you're soon going to start training, right', says Telvo to Tyelko after a while, his voice muffled by the ice he's keeping on his face. 'You should give Írissë the best of them once they know how to behave. She might forgive you.'

'She does love good hunting dogs', Pityo agrees.

'Mm. Perhaps.' Tyelko stretches and belches. 'You need to spar with me more, Telvo. To learn how not to be taken by surprise so often.'

The bottle slowly empties while they talk half-seriously of serious things, complaining of them to their hearts' content.

When there is no more drink to be had, Tyelko tosses the bottle to the floor with a clatter, to a protest from neat-freak Telvo and a startled noise from Huan.

'Don't be childish, Tyelko.' Pityo leans back. The ceiling is spinning a little. 'There are more bottles. You don't need to punish that one for being empty.'

'Where?' Tyelko clambers to his feet.

'In the cellar.' Pityo chuckles as Tyelko curses.

And sits down. He and Telvo both look at Pityo.

Grumbling, he gets up. He takes the melted ice from Telvo and takes it to the kitchen, and then heads to the cellars, grateful that his father is in the palace and mother visiting her parents. He fetches two, no, three bottles, two of wine and another of the strong spirit to stash in his and Telvo's room.

He stops short in the doorway again.

Tyelko and Telvo have been joined by Makalaurë and his wife, of all people. A lyre and flute lie carefully placed on Telvo's desk, but Makalaurë has taken Pityo's place on the floor, and Tinweriel lounges carelessly in the most comfortable chair in the room, her blood-red dress crumpled around her legs that she's draped over the side of the chair.

'I see that I must not leave this room tonight or an ever-greater number of miserable brothers will manifest in it', Pityo announces, for Makalaurë looks far from happy, too, as does Tinweriel.

Pityo hands one bottle of wine to Tinweriel and the other to Tyelko, and pulls up the second most comfortable chair.

'You two don't look too happy either', he remarks, nodding to Makalaurë and Tinweriel. 'And', he remembers to ask a little belatedly, 'do you want a cup to drink that from?'

'I'm not that fine a lady', Tinweriel says with a crooked smile, taking a swig right from the bottle and giving it back to Pityo.

Pityo shrugs and takes it. What Tinweriel is is a mercurial lady; on some other day she would ask for a silver goblet to be brought for her.

Not tonight. Tonight is a lazing together, drinking together, commiserating with each other kind of night.

It turns out that Makalaurë and Tinweriel have lost two choristers because they decided they couldn't keep singing in a choir led by a son and daughter-in-law of Fëanáro when they disagree with his recent ideas.

'Good riddance', Makalaurë declares. 'One of them couldn't take direction well.'

'And the other wore colours that clashed with mine', adds Tinweriel in a tone that makes it clear to anyone that knows her that she's just making up reasons.

'You'll find new ones', Pityo says with a yawn. 'There are always people wanting to join, aren't there?'

Makalaurë brightens a little, though he also asks for the wine to be passed to him.

Pityo scratches Huan behind the ears just as he likes, leans into his chair, half-listening to the talk around him, saying something encouraging now and then. He had a good day himself, training a young horse and treating another one's sore leg.

He doesn't leave the room again, though, telling the others it's their turn. When they get hungry Tyelko goes to raid the larder, and Pityo builds a fire in the grate, and they while the night away together with quiet talk and quietly improving moods.

*

A/N: I would like to note that I do not recommend using alcohol to cope with your problems or bad moods. It's not healthy.

#amrod #amras #ambarussa #tolkien fanfiction #silmarillion fanfiction #amrod and amras #ask #anon #my prompt fics #my fics

[freewheelshippin]

PIRATE pt 1 (ish)

It’s summer!!! I want to think about swashbuckling pirate AU adventures!!! I’m still thinking I might just snippet and snapshot the rest of the ideas I have here so it’s like a big bathtub full of toys I can do whateeeeever I want with, but you know. It’s me. I don’t do a damn thing without 1) slowburn 2) tappin into that Too Much Gene. So here u go, a setup. 

Takes place right after the events of Pirates of the Frontier drama CD-- you don’t have to have listened to be able to enjoy my offshoot, but you can read a great translation here and hear the whole thing here if you haven’t and would like to! (I still gotta find a sauce and watch the stageplay of it...but this is not about that!) 

Not much by ways of content warnings other than some reference to alcohol. Onwards!

Ikki came back with a smile that awarded Malreaux and the White Devil their first agreement. 

“Oi, Cap’n,” Malreaux growled. “Who the hell is she?” 

“Our new boatswain!” Ikki said without a shred of doubt in him. “She overheard me trying to recruit someone and said she was looking to join a crew.” 

The White Devil clicked his tongue, turned on his heel, and began to stride towards the ship. 

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?!” Malreaux barked after him. 

“I will let the peasantry sort their problems out,” he said, not bothering to even turn around and acknowledge them. “While I rest in my quarters.” 

“Don’t you fucking care who the hell Ikki decided to bring onto the ship?!” 

“I do not. Whomever is brought aboard is a new recruit and therefore beneath me. If they intend to be a turncoat, it is simple to kill them where they stand. Good night.” 

It was barely sundown. 

“Oi! OI! Get back here and deal with your problems like an actual crewmate, you hoity-toity bastard!” 

“...So what’s he do on the ship?” the new boatswain asked plainly. “Other than be a pompous ass?” 

“Be a pompous pain in the ass,” Malreaux muttered, giving up on getting the pale specter to listen. He crossed his arms, and his expression seemed a few words away from an outright snarl. “The cap recruited him barely two weeks ago,” he said pointedly, glaring a hole in the new recruit. 

“Malreaux, calm down, please!” Ikki pleaded. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad person. He’s already helped us lots, and he cares…just, in his own way.” 

Malreaux looked incredulously at his captain, brows knit. “He threatened to throw you and your lucky pendant overboard because you ate some of his fucking macarons.” 

“But he didn’t!” Ikki defended. “Because he wants to find the Red Angel, too, you know, and we’re the only other people in the world he can do that with!”

 His crewmate sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead where it creased before giving Ikki’s recruit the once-over. 

“So who the hell are you?” 

“You can call me Maighread,” she replied coolly enough. Malreaux studied her expression, meeting her eye. She held his gaze challengingly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she was hiding something.

“And what the hell makes you think you’re worthwhile joining us,” he said flatly. 

“Well,” she started, shifting her weight. She had an impractically big sword with her, and she began to lean on it. “For starters, Mr. Pompous, Pale, and Pillow Princess is proof positive you’ll all strangle each other at sea if you go much longer without a boatswain.” 

Malreaux snorted. “You think you can get him in line, huh.” 

“Oh, sure. Ikki tells me he’s a sweet tooth, I’m sure there’s a solution that involves padlocking the galley unless he’s been a good boy and pulled his weight.” 

Ikki laughed at that remark. “He’s going to be so dramatic if you do that!” 

“He’d shoot off the lock if you did that!” Malreaux barked, though he liked the idea of someone else on the ship who thought of the White Bastard as a problem. “But you still haven’t answered the fucking question about why I should let you on the ship.” Ikki opened his mouth before Malreaux cut him off. “From your mouth! I wanna hear whatever snake oil you fed him myself!” 

Ikki sighed. “I’m sorry, he’s just looking out for us.” 

“No, no. I get it. Honestly, there’s not much story to tell. I’m a scholar, and I’m on a hunt for rare plants and animals that haven’t been recorded yet.” She opened a pouch on her belt, showing it was stuffed with drawing tools, and handed Malreaux the book strapped at her hip. He took note of the tattoos scaling up her hands and arms as she handed it to him; the images were fearsome and aggressive, but not from any dangerous allegiance he confidently recognized. 

“What the hell’s a scholar doing looking for a tiny pirate crew like this, huh? Shouldn’t you have fancy navy escorts?” He flipped through the book. Indeed, they were mostly sketches and notes of flowers, plants, and animals, the pages warped and slightly shimmering from dried-up seaspray.

“Fancy navy escorts are a natural disaster with government funding,” she supplied. “You heard about the ones that torched a whole island just for fun? The way I see it, I’d rather trust a small crew headed by a good man to take me to new places we don’t know how to respect yet.” 

“And what kinda scholar needs a big dumb sword like that?” 

“Family heirloom,” she said flatly. “My dear old departed khun yai meemaw would flood the seas with her tears if he found out I wasn’t taking ole necklopper everywhere for protection,” she continued facetiously. 

Malreaux met her eye, still frowning. He tossed her back her book. 

“I don’t like her,” he remarked to Ikki as he crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked genuinely. 

“She seems like bad news.” 

“She seems like a good person, and she’s already offered to use her skills to help me find the Red Angel.” 

“You ever met a scholar covered in ink like that?” Malreaux replied. 

“You’re covered in ink like that,” Maighread shot back. 

“Yeah,” he snorted. “And I’m bad news. But we’re short on hands, the captain likes you, and I’m just the cook. We’re ditching you at the next port if I’m not convinced by then,” he said, shouldering the pack of goods he’d bought as he went to board. 

Maighread shouldered her sword again. “I’ll be on my best behavior, chef,” she called after him, letting a long sigh of relief out when she thought Malreux was safely out of earshot. 

“That went great,” Ikki cheered, patting her heartily on the back. 

“...Really,” she said, looking at Ikki disbelievingly. 

“Well, why else do you think our crew’s so small? I know he’s kinda rough, but I don’t think I’ve known anyone who’s worked harder to keep me safe. Normally he’s way, way angrier about how annoying someone I want to recruit is or just doesn’t let them onboard to begin with.” 

“I’m glad I had you vouching for me, then,” she replied with a tired smile. “So, all that’s left is to fetch dinner and we’re good to depart?” 

“Yeah! I ordered ahead of time. Four whole portions of fresh steak, to celebrate our new crewmate with,” Ikki replied with a beaming, infectious smile. 

--------------------------------- 

Maighread set to work immediately, as promised, but with gusto and ease like her sealegs had been built on this ship. The White Devil was goaded into tasks he complained furiously about but did impeccably, she took plenty on herself, while Ikki and Malreaux redistributed their responsibilities amongst one another. There was less for Malreux to do, in a relieving way, and he could focus more on the meals they relied on to keep spirits high and their bodies alive. 

She was talkative at meals, but evasive about any real questions they had about her. She only started conversation with Ikki, and seemed to avoid Malreaux outside of duty. So when she asked Malreaux for a favor at the next port, he was caught off-guard. 

“Assuming you don’t still think I’m a disaster waiting to happen.” 

“...You earned points just for getting the pale bastard to pull his weight. Figures he’s wicked competent.” 

“I won’t lie,” she started, encouraged. “I feel a little bad. Some stuff I assigned him was out of pure pettiness. I just can’t fuckin’ stand how he thinks he can order me around and call me peasant.” 

Malreux’s mouth crooked into a smile. He told himself it was because someone else was as sick of that shit as he was, and Ikki was too forgiving, even when he was the one the White Devil was taking most advantage of. “It’s what that fop needs. He can’t keep going around like this, and it pisses me off he’s got all that fancy magic that means we can’t just kick his ass.” 

“Oh. What, that rope trick he does?” 

Malreaux groaned. “My ribs still hurt from last time.” 

“What?” She grinned at him. “You’re serious, he used it on you?” 

“Did the captain seriously not tell you how we met that bastard?!” he grunted irascibly. 

“Why don’t you tell me all about it later? Sounds like a conversation you can’t have in polite company,” she said with a challenging smile, leaning ever so-slightly-back into the busy port town behind her.

“Shaddup!” Malreaux barked. “You really wanna undo all the good will you earned?” 

“Well,” she replied, the smile softening into something more relieved, “it’s nice you admit I’ve earned any to begin with. Lemme earn some more. I got an idea that’ll get us some coin, but we gotta go now.” 

“Fine. I can see just what kind of bad news you are that way.” Maighread’s face fell for a half a moment before she stopped herself from giving away anything more. 

“Oh, just the worst. Like, fuck you and the boat you rode in on. C’mon.” 

They strolled through town. Maighread tucked her sleeves into her bracers despite the heat, hiding away the markings lining her arms, even as townsfolk gave them extra wide berth as Malreaux didn’t bother to hide his. 

She took them to a liquor distiller in a back alley, unmarked and unpopular, where she negotiated buying barrels of rum wholesale to age in the ship’s hold. They’d sell them at different ports and spread the word of the distiller, and they’d likewise keep some for the crew to do with whatever they pleased. She looked pointedly at Malreaux as she paid for it with her own money, and he could only snort and gesture to show he got the point. 

Malreaux was strong enough to pick one barrel up over each shoulder. He caught out of the corner of his eye that she’d seemed ready to roll hers back to the ship, but she tried to hoist hers up the same way once Malreaux had lifted his up. 

“What the hell are you doing,” he growled. “Don’t try and show off if you’re not strong enough.” 

“I’m strong enough,” she replied with more venom than he’d seen or frankly expected from her. 

“You aren’t if you’re just gonna slow me down.” Malreaux started to walk ahead, back to the ship. She trailed far behind, like he expected, as she insisted on carrying them herself. He met her part-way back after loading them onto the ship and seized one of them off her shoulder. 

“What’re you trying to fucking prove?!” he scolded.  “You’re the fucking boatswain, who fucking expects you to be freakishly strong like me?” 

She snorted, trying to hide how heavily she was breathing. “Oh, yeah, ‘cause the first thing Ikki thought when you met was ‘hm, that guy’s really strong, I better make him my cook!’” She paused. “...ah, shit, nevermind, he might’ve thought that.” 

Malreaux, despite himself, laughed. She looked so relieved when he did, and he set the barrel down as he sighed heavily. 

“......Look,” he started, despite everything telling him he shouldn’t bother for just another seafarer who’d leave him for dead someday if it suited her.  “I’m still not convinced on you, but I’m not gonna kick you out just ‘cuz you don’t lift a barrel like I do.” 

“....it’s about my pride, too,” she admitted, but she laid the other barrel on her shoulder down on its side, bracing her foot on it to keep it from rolling away. 

“Well.” Malreaux kicked a barrel over to roll himself. “Can’t fault you for having that. Just stop doing stupid shit ‘cause of it, you’re gonna make trouble for me ‘n Ikki.” 

Maighread didn’t reply verbally, but the look she gave him was grateful, and she kicked the barrel in front of her gently to get it rolling towards the ship. They didn’t talk outside of practicalities as they loaded the rest of the barrels, but Maighread walked side-by-side with him from then on. 

It was as he passed her a handspike for the turnstile that she started a new conversation. 

“Can I ask you something?” She notched the first one in, and he tossed her the second one. 

“What.” 

“Nothing big. I just wanna know how you met Ikki. You two really look out for one another.” 

Malreaux hesitated as he took his place opposite her. 

“Haul,” he signaled, as he gripped and leaned into the handspike. 

“Haul away,” she replied, and they groaned forward, slowly lifting all the barrels off the deck to lower into the hold. “You gonna answer my question or not?” 

“I got left behind by my old crew and he picked me up.” 

“....like a kid and a stray,” she offered, a touch of apprehension in her voice. 

“Exactly like a kid and a stray.” 

 “I mean...it still sucks to get stuck like that, even if it got you a good captain.” 

“No. I dug that hole for myself. I must’ve fought everyone on that crew at least twice over and drawn blood from them at least once. I didn’t know shit about how to be on a crew. It was a long time coming.” 

“...huh.” 

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing, I’m just. You’re impressively honest is all.” 

Malreaux narrowed his eyes, even if the compliment didn’t feel sour. “Just baring my fangs. I never said I wouldn’t kick you into the sea right after we get all the rum loaded.”

“Heh. I’ll fight you tooth and nail when you inevitably don’t double-cross me.” 

“What’s that confidence for? Tch.” 

She laughed before they reversed and slowly lowered everything into the hold. Malreaux wanted to dislike how natural these motions felt together, but instead his body just felt lighter. 

In the hold, as they untied the lines holding the barrels together, she insisted they take a little sample of the rum. She said it was for comparing the taste later. Malreaux thought it was for making sure it wasn’t water with a shot of piss. 

“....He deserves it,” Malreaux admitted after the slight burn of the rum fired the nerves in his tongue until it almost hurt. 

“Hm?” 

“Ikki. If someone’s going to put their faith and trust in me, I owe them my best. That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” 

“It should.” She took the cup from him. “I can promise you I’ll abide by that, too.” 

Malreaux steeled his gaze on her. If she was a charlatan, she was a goddamn good one. 

#iron maiden & rocka rolla #pirate au #scribblings

[tarithenurse]

Orphan - 7

Starring:  Fem!Reader and MCU characters! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Playing with an idea for a pairing with Reader, so feel free to send asks if you want a say in it (no promises though). Some serious stuff. Some sad stuff. A/N: PREVIOUS CHAPTERS can be found on the masterlist. Thanks for likes and reblogs and comments <3

7. Bittersweet

Tired to the bone but unable to sit still. Ever since Clint told you last night that Pepper Potts-slash-Stark would be visiting today, you haven’t been able to relax let alone sleep. Throughout the night, you’d been tossing and turning along with the millions thought buzzing around in your brain like a swarm of pesky flies. Why’s she coming? You had imagined a simple, official letter from some office or maybe a phone call from a lawyer. Maybe.

Now the woman is on the way to the Barton family’s farm, and you’ve figuratively worn through the soles of the boots from all the pacing. First in the little bedroom, then through the entire house before you escaped to the barn.

Fingers trace lines in the thick layer of dust of Deere’s grooves, mixing with the residue of oil trapped in your finger whirls – no amount of scrubbing is enough, but Laura doesn’t seem to mind. Passing by the front, one of the ancient headlights is still sitting crooked after you changed the bulb, and your hands automatically busy themselves with the little task still left before the M-model would be presentable after too many years of misuse. It feels good to fix the tractor, to give it a chance to do what it’s made for instead of sitting useless, cooped up in some dusty place without a purpose. Machines need something to do…just like humans.

It’s not long before your attention is fully focused on the wiring for the electrical starting, mind at ease as it has tuned in to the ideas of its creators from the late 40’ies. There’s a clear logic to their work which you now admire, trying to respect it as you peel away the old copper with fabric wrapping so stiff it might actually break. There might be a thin layer of aluminum in between but honestly, you’re not sure, and you become enthralled with the task of figuring out the system to the point that you don’t hear the barn door opening or the muted sound of high heels treading easily across the uneven floor.

“Miss [Y/L/N],” a female voice suddenly interrupts your work, clear and demanding, “can I have a word with you?”

Here we go. You manage to sneak a glance down yourself, grimacing at the dirt already adorning your sweater and jeans – not to mention your hands even after you wipe them in an old cloth – before you turn to stand face to face with Tony Starks widow. Her entire posture screams self-esteem. This is a woman, who has worked hard and knows exactly what sort of respect she deserves, someone stubborn enough to deal with NY’s former most notorious playboy. Even with dark circles around the eyes and sunken cheeks, Virginia Pepper Potts is a force of nature.

Silence stretches until it becomes unbearable, making you want to flee rather than do as you do: “Hi there, Mrs…Stark?”

“I…I kept my maiden name…” she trails off, gaze dancing between your dirty hands and your face.

You know she’s trying to find the similarities. Damn it, you’ve spent hours in front of mirrors doing the same, suddenly recognizing where you got your eyes from or the lopsided smile when something quietly amuses you.

“So…erm…I didn’t expect…” The words just don’t want to cooperate. “What can I do?”

“Right.” The pale woman manages to shake herself out of the stupor. “I understand you’ve not wanted to claim any inheritance now that…after…” Tears pool in her eyes regardless of the furious blinking, but Potts manages to hold them back. “I’ve been told you merely wanted to…see if it was right?”

Lamest reason ever, typical me. “I gueeess that’s the best way to put it,” you admit, “little too late but…” Flailing your arms, in the hopes the broken sentence makes sense.

“And what do you think?”

“Dunno…might just be ‘cause I’m looking for any resemblance and the wake…there was a lake in between…”

“But…”

There’s nothing accusatory about the question. In fact, it almost sounds kind as if she might care about your feelings. Why should she? An adult appears out of the blue, claiming to be the dead husband’s kid – it isn’t exactly something that people would want to deal with, she has every right to be on guard. But I just wanted to know….want to know if it’s true. Not to take anything from her or the daughter, Morgan, just to find some peace. Sneaking in on the draught is a chilled sense of righteousness, screaming at you that wanting to figure out your past isn’t a crime. With no way of moving forward it had made sense to look back, to search for some anchor to steady yourself by while the maelstrom of insecurity keeps trying to pull you in and drown you.

“Look,” you begin authoritatively, “I get I could’ve gone ‘bout this a million other ways if I’d had the right support or whatever, but I didn’t trespass…didn’t intend to interfere.” A delicate reddish eyebrow raises slowly but doesn’t deter you. “So it was foolish to turn up ‘cause what I needed to know wouldn’t be obvious even then, but it’s the closest I could get to anything…maybe feel something? I dunno how I thought I’d get the answers I needed. Need. Perhaps I’d’ve walked away without being any wiser if I hadn’t seen his…your daughter. Morgan.” Now both eyebrows have reached the hairline and the sharp eyes could freeze you on the spot. With a hammering heart, you try to explain: “You’ve got the files. You’ve seen the baby pictures of me. You know what I mean.”

For a few treacherous seconds, it’s as if Pepper Potts might end you then and there. But her entire demeanour changes, crumbles in on itself with a sigh as she sits down on an upturned barrel nearby. The barn creaks a bit as it settles under the weight of the snow. A few mice run through a sprinkle of blown away leaves or straw in a corner, but you can’t see them when you look. You’re still wringing the oily cloth between your fingers. Then you hear the sniffle, forcing you to look at the woman holding the secret of your past.

“Morgan…you…” Pepper hiccups into a neat handkerchief, “you look like T-Tony…a lot. But but you even s-sound like and to see you-u working on…”

A vague gesture towards the tractor behind you somehow manages to encompass everything from oil, tools, no, the whole concept of tinkering with machines lies within the unspoken words and hits you harder than expected because now you realize that you might have inherited more than Tony Stark’s looks. What else? Truth is, though, regardless which traits are similar…you will never get to see for yourself: the guy’s dead, apparently leaving two kids behind and a widow to try to deal with it all. What a jerk.

A tiny, broken laugh escapes Pepper. “I know that look too…you’re fee-eeling oh so righteous about something, not just for yourself. If you got the chance, like Tony, you’d try to find some way to fix it for everyone.”

“I don–“

“It’s okay, [Y/N].” Your name sounds oddly easy on her lips. Perhaps she notices too because she blushes. “Not everything can be…fixed…not without losing something else.”

There is no need to spell it out. Tony Stark helped sort the biggest mess in Earth’s history by not just undoing the Snappening but by ending the purple space-grape called Thanos. The bill for a repair like that is massive. The news of course are focused on the grander issues from the fall out such as the millions of homeless people and the food shortage now that there’s double the mouths to feed. But on a smaller scale people are still reeling from the shock, some mourn those that will never return. Tony Stark. Natasha Romanoff. There are more. Bright memories burning holes in the hearts of loved ones sitting behind.

What if they could be brought back too? If Clint could have his best friend again, or Morgan could have her dad? If I could…?

“Don’t start down that rabbit hole.” Pepper is somehow right before you, hands reaching for you shoulders slowly as if afraid you might not want to be touched, that you will run off. “It never ends. There’s no peace if you start.” The touch is light while the words are heavy.

Teeth dig sharply into the inside of your cheek before you can talk. “What…what should I do?” I’m not gonna cry now!

“Up to you…but maybe you’ll consider coming for a visit to begin with?”

…

By the time Clint comes over to fetch you for dinner, Pepper Potts has been gone for hours and the tractor’s old wiring is lying in a bundle on the work bench ready to be stripped and rewrapped after the rest of the repairs are sorted.

“Hm…guess it’s really happening,” the Avenger grumbles kindly, “the old machine’s gonna run.”

“It’s gonna take some more work, but yeah,” you smile even if only the engine can see it.

At least you can fix this. A small thing to be set right in the middle of a ruined world. Maybe you can repair more things – not just for the Bartons but for the others too? Rhodey’s legs had been whining, and there’s probably a lot of –

“Hey! You listening?”

Clint’s outburst makes you bump your head against the rust-spattered metal. Oops. The thought is repeated when you realize you’re rubbing the growing bump with your oily hand.

“What?”

“Goddamn it…are all Starks grease-heads?”

It stings and warms your heart simultaneously. “Dunno. What did I miss?”

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do with your life, ‘kay?” The mirth has drained from the eyes, making his alias seem extra fitting. “But I’d suggest you come inside…there’s food and other guests.”

“Who?”

“Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.”

#Orphan MCU Fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic #post-endgame #barton family #Pepper Potts #morgan stark #clint barton #laura barton #Barton farm #Avengers #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #tony stark #Iron Man #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #Natalia romanova #Black Widow #captain america #Winter Soldier #Orphan #Writing #MCU series #Fanfiction series #fanfic series #angst

[lovehotelreservation]

May the people please receive big Yakuza mc Mr. Hardcore do what he does best n perform cunnilingus on the reader instead of teasing us with that damn mic of his? BLESS U CHELL

ONE CUNNING LYRICIST COMING ONTO

UR SOUNDCLOUD PLAYLIST

An idol group could sell 1 million copies in one day, but a bootlegged 128 kbps recording of a Hypnosis Mic rap battle on a Motorola Razr could easily fetch a black market profit in the millions.

Risky as it was to record–especially when it came to the ruthless Mad Trigger Crew–you were looking to have a nice cut of the cash. At each rap battle, you made sure to change up your appearance with wigs, color contacts, make-up you’d only ever pick if there was a power outage at the beauty store, and more.

Upon hearing the murmurings that the next battle was to take place at the outskirts of Ikebukuro at an abandoned parking garage, you decided to scope out the area the night before before to find the best spot to record and attain the most ideal audio quality. But your little recording test didn’t last long, for the moment you brought out your phone to begin, your wrist was suddenly possessed by the looming and all too daunting Samatoki.

The look in his crimson stare was passive as he studied your face, only to narrow right as an arrogant smirk slid onto his lips, which held a lit cigarette in-between.

Still keeping his hold on you, he reached up to take a drag from his cigarette, a moment of tense silence passing before he spoke, his voice husky, “Looks like I finally caught ya, little bootlegger. Must be nice to profit offa’ my voice, yeah?”

Flicking his cigarette aside, his fingers tucked beneath your chin, his gaze bearing deeply into yours with utmost intensity as he hissed out, “Come now, cutie–I’ll give you a sneak peek of tomorrow’s show. It’s always good to do sound check, you know?”

Your heart was racing at the thought of being subjected to the wrath of Mad Trigger Crew’s leader, unsure if you could even withstand him even switching on his Hypnosis Mic.

However, what happened next was far beyond anything you could have anticipated, even if your heart was still set to a flutter.

Upon cold, hard concrete, your body was left aflame as you writhed. To be out so blatantly in this vast empty space was as embarrassing as it was exhilarating to be as wantonly exposed as you were. Your top and bra were shoved aside, just enough for Samatoki to feel you up and grope your breasts to his desire’s content.

The skirt you wore was hiked up, your panties now reduced to ruined fabric that was tossed without care after being torn off of you.

With your legs parted wide and hooked over Samatoki’s shoulders, the fierce claim his hands had on your hips kept you perfectly in place for him to shove his face in-between your thighs. His mouth was planted over your dribbling core, the swipes of his tongue relentless, the pressure of his lips suckling around your clit intense. 

It was impossible to stay quiet or show restraint on your end, especially when he wasn’t showing you any bit of mercy, demanding that you be as noisy by growled yet muffled commands and the obscenely lascivious dissonance of his lips feasting upon your center.

He had you squealing, near tears with pleasure, both the audio and video recorded on his phone, having used the cracked remains of yours to keep the device propped up.

Though your initial meeting came from more underhanded circumstances, he would come to see this newfound footage of you simply too priceless to share with anyone else.

#samatoki aohitsugi #hypnosis mic #hypmic #reader insert #career day lay #fic #super freaknasty writing #anonymous #management will return in a queue minutes

[mischiefandspirits]

Iron Legion (3/?)

Never let it be said that Tony Stark ever does things by half. He might have grown up with little family, but he wasn’t about to keep it that way.

Tony Stark was seventeen when his first child was born, and that was just the beginning.

For Masterpost, AO3, and Fanfiction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boy Wonders, Part 2

“How’s Mamma feeling today?” Tony chirped as soon as the call connected.

“Never call me that again, Stark,” Tori deadpanned.

“Ah, cranky, I see. So everything’s normal!”

“I’m flipping you off right now, just so you know.”

“What did the doctor say?” Tony reached for a wrench, only for Dum-E to grab it and zoom off. 

“Everything’s looking good and right on track. She even got a good enough shot to find out the gender.”

Tony watched as U intercepted their brother and grabbed it, zooming over to Tony only to toss it back to Dum-E.

“What we looking at?” he asked and got up to grab a new wrench as the two devolved into playing fetch with each other.

“You’ll have to wait until you get your copy of the ultrasound to find out.”

“Can’t I at least get a hint?” he asked, dropping onto his creeper and getting back under the car he was working on.

“Alright, fine… I think I’m going to go with Harley for the name.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You were going to name them Harley either way.”

“Was I?”

“Sir, there is someone at the door for you.”

“Tony Stark has a visitor, I’m shocked!”

“Not that type of visitor, Ms. Richards. She claims to be a work associate. A Mrs. Mary Parker.”

“Ah, the latest spy,” Tony snorted pulling himself out from under the car.

“Spy?”

“Corporate espionage. People seem to think it’s easy to get ahold of my things if a pretty lady gets me near a bed.”

“Are they wrong?” both Tori and J.A.R.V.I.S. say together, though Tori is more teasing and J.A.R.V.I.S. honest confusion.

“No, but it’d take someone a lot longer than a night to be able to get the good stuff off my tech, and I tend to keep them distracted for most of the night, as you probably remember, Tor-Tor.”

“Ugh, knock it off before I throw up. I get enough of that during the bouts of morning sickness.”

“Sir, Mrs. Parker?”

“Right, right, let her in, but keep an eye on her. Any of her tech gets near ours, I give you full permission to shock her. Let her know I’ll be right up.”

“Have fun with your spy!”

“Yeah, yeah, have fun with your mood swings and cravings.”

“Still flipping you off.”

The line went dead as Tony wiped the grease off his hands.

When he reached the living room, Mary Parker was standing near the door. She was dressed in a navy pantsuit just as prim as the one she’d worn last he’d seen her. Which was slightly offset by the large colorful bag on her arm and the pink backpack straps over her shoulders.

“Hello, Mr. Stark.”

“Hello, Spy. You here to tell me who you were working for? I know it wasn’t Hammer, never would have made it past the firewalls with his garbage. I’m thinking -”

“I’m not in the business of corporate espionage, Mr. Stark,” she chuckled. “Just the plain old ordinary kind.” She pulled out a badge and Tony whistled.

“What’d I do to tick off the CIA? Did you guys finally find out about me hacking the Pentagon?” Mary pursed her lips and he shrugged. “What can I say? I was ten and in high school. You don’t turn down a dare when you’re ten and in high school. Pretty sure you don’t turn down a dare when your ten, period, but what do I know. I was six the last time I spent time with ten-year-olds.”

“This… isn’t about you hacking into the Pentagon.” Oh, she was doing the Tony Stark’s Giving Me a Headache Nose Rub. He didn’t think spies would be capable of getting that annoyed. “Though I hope you realize I’m going to have to tell my CO about that now.”

Tony shrugged again. “It was sixteen years ago, and I was a minor. I didn’t even look at anything. Also, for the record, if the CIA’s looking to buy, then they can go through the official channels like everyone else.”

“I’m not here on CIA business.” Mary set down her bag then pulled her backpack off.

It wasn’t a backpack.

“Woah, you and Richard actually decided to settle down?” Tony asked, eyeing the small baby in the carrier she held.

“No, and that’s the problem. He’s my partner as well as my husband -”

“That sounds like it should be against the rules.”

“As such,” she continued, ignoring him. “When I am on a mission, he is as well. Our lives are far too occupied for a child. Were she Richard’s, we’d have left her with his brother while away. As she isn’t, Richard and I agreed that she’d be better off with her father.”

Tony stared at the baby. He tried to make a joke about helping Mary figure out who it was, but couldn’t get it out. She was CIA, she knew exactly who the father of her child was.

“You know, Stark Industries has a policy -”

“I’m aware. I’ve already had my people complete the tests. I have the results in her bag, though you're welcome to complete your own.”

Tony didn’t want to know why the CIA had a sample of his DNA, he really didn’t. He did, however, want to make sure an accident happened so that that file would mysteriously disappear.

That would have to wait, though.

“Let me get this straight: You got pregnant after our little tryst, and now you think you can just drop the kid off here without even a by your leave!”

“Yes.” Mary carefully set the baby down onto the couch, brushed a hand over her head, then turned to walk away. “All the documentation you’ll need is in the bag.”

“Hold on!” he called out, but she was already slipping through the door. He stomped after her and pulled the door open to see her getting into the backseat of a car. “Hey!”

She sighed and turned to him. “Mr. Stark, my life isn’t safe. You’re a good man, despite what the media tries to make you out as. I don’t know if you’ll keep her, and I don’t care. I just know wherever she ends up, you’ll ensure she’s taken care of. Goodbye.”

With that, she shut the door and the car drove off.

“Sir?” J.A.R.V.I.S. said after a few moments. “The child has begun crying.”

Tony ran his hand over his face and went back inside. He stared at the squirming, whining baby on his couch for a second then asked, “Jay, what’s the likelihood that Tori would make fun of me if I call her?”

“One hundred percent, Sir.”

“Okay, she’s out. Who do you think? Ana or Rhodey?”

“Mrs. Jarvis will already be asleep by now.”

“Rhodey it is. Call him up, Jay.”

“Right away. In the meantime, I would suggest picking the child up.”

Tony frowned, but carefully picked up the baby and held her like the parenting books Tori forced him to read described. Thankfully she stopped screaming to stare at him with teary eyes.

“What did you do now?”

Tony pouted. “Why do you automatically assume I did something? Come on Honeybear, that hurts.”

“Are you saying you didn’t do something?”

“I mean, obviously I was involved, but this time it isn’t actually my fault.”

“Tones, what’s going on?”

“Remember Mary Parker?”

“Was she the one in Seattle with the braids or the one in Miami with the mermaid skirt?”

“The spy in D.C.”

“Oh, her,” Rhodey said and Tony could hear the glare in his voice.

The airman had been angry when Tony had told him what had happened, even when Tony had shrugged it off. He refused to listen when Tony pointed out that nothing had happened Tony hadn’t been open to beside the computer meddling, and it’s not like she’d gotten anything from that.

“What did she want this time? Did you figure out who she was working with? Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her again.”

“She’s CIA, and no, I didn’t sleep with her. She just showed up to drop off… something.”

“Something? What does the CIA want with you?”

“She wasn’t here on CIA business. She, uh, Well apparently she did manage to get something from me after all.”

“To-”

“I’ve got a daughter.”

There were a few minutes of silence.

“At least, Mary said she’s mine. Haven’t had anyone do the test yet.”

“She dropped off a kid with you?”

“And then drove off without a word.”

“… Tony, how do you get yourself into these messes?”

“If I wanted to be teased, I would have called the baby mamma.”

“Which one?”

“Thanks, Platypus, real funny. Now some advice would be nice.”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Let’s start at the beginning, does she have a name?”

“Let me see.” Tony walked over to the bag Mary’d left on the floor. He carefully knelt down to open the main pocket to find a variety of baby supplies and an envelope. He pulled out the envelope and dumped its contents out on the ground. He grabbed the birth certificate, saying, “It says her name’s Teresa Elizabeth Parker, born August tenth.”

“Okay, that’s a start. Now, how about supplies for little Teresa?”

“There’s some bottles and formula and diapers and things in the bag Mary left.”

“Things,” Rhodey chuckled. “Well, I don’t know everything a baby would need, but I think it’s more than that. You might want to call Tori for help with that.” At Tony’s groan, he laughed. “Tones, she’s going to find out eventually. Unless you plan on never letting Teresa know her little… sibling.”

Tony scowled at the pause. “She told you what gender Harley’s going to be! Unbelievable! Jay, hang up on the traitor and call Tormenter back!”

“Ton-”

“Goodbye, Major.”

The call ended and Tony stood up, rocking Teresa slightly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent Happy a quick text before Tori answered.

“Your spy gone already?”

“You told Rhodey before me!?”

“I like Rhodey.”

“Let me just say, it better be a boy. I can’t handle any more demanding women in my life.” Tony pulled his shirt out of the mewling Teresa’s grip before she could stick the dirty fabric in her mouth. He handed her a crinkly toy from the bag instead. “First you, now little Teresa here. What have I done to deserve being treated like this?”

“I’d offer to write up a list, but I doubt there’s enough paper in Tennessee. Who’s Teresa?”

“My daughter, and I have done nothing wrong in my life.”

“… You have a daughter?”

“Apparently.”

The sound of something falling sounded from across the line.

“Tor-Tor?”

“My God! Tony, please tell me that Parks girl didn’t just drop a baby in your lap!”

“Parker, and she actually dropped the kid on the couch.”

“What the hell! Who would leave a kid with you?”

“A CIA agent, apparently.”

“Your life is a mess. Why am I letting you near my kid again?”

“No clue,” Tony bounced the baby when she started to get fussy again.

“You sure she’s yours?”

“She said she did the tests, but I’ve got Happy getting a doc so we can double-check. That reminds me, Jay, remind me we need to hack into the CIA’s database later so we can get rid of any samples of my DNA they’ve got.”

“Of course, Sir.” 

“Tony, do not hack the CIA. Jay, do not let him hack the CIA.”

“Of course, Ms. Richards.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always.”

“Then act like it or I’ll donate you to a youth choir.”

“Can we get back to the part where you have a kid, one that isn’t mine?”

“I’d rather not.”

“How old is she?”

“She was born on the tenth.”

“And let me guess, you have no supplies.”

“Mrs. Parker left a baby bag.”

“Alright, Jay, stop getting involved in my conversations.”

“As you wish.”

“No more movie nights with Rhodey.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Let’s hope all your children aren’t as sassy as J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tori snorted. “So you literally need everything then? And since you’re calling me, that means you have no idea what you need. I’ll help you put together a list.”

“I seem to remember calling you because you told Rhodey the gender of the kid and not me.”

“Let’s see. You’ll need a crib, sheets, and blankets since I doubt you’d want her to sleep with you. She probably left you some diapers, but you’ll likely want some more. Not too many though in case she grows quickly. You’ll also -”

“Jay, make a list.”

He could almost hear Tori rolling her eyes, but she continued on, this time addressing J.A.R.V.I.S.

He listened to the two talk as he grabbed the bag, leaving the papers scattered on the floor. He went into the kitchen and prepped a bottle, following the directions on the tin.

“Maybe this will quiet you down,” he hummed as he held the bottle to her mouth.

“Sir, Mr. Hogan has arrived,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said before asking Tori, “ What color would you recommend?”

“Mute,” Tony said and the two’s conversation cut off.

When he opened the door, Happy was standing next to a tall, dark-skinned woman.

“Haps, who’s your friend?”

“Dr. Stark, my name’s Dr. Georgia Jenkins. A pleasure,” the woman said.

“It’s Mr. Stark. Or Tony. Let’s go with Tony, Doc. I’d shake your hand, but mine are a little full.” Tony stepped to the side and the two came in.

“Mr. Hogan explained the situation as far as he knew it,” Dr. Jenkins said, glancing around the living room before turning to Tony. “An old flame dropped off a child that she claims to be yours and you need a paternity test as well as a checkup?”

“Actually, I just texted Happy that a woman had dropped off a kid and took off, but sure, let’s go with that.”

Happy scowled, but the doctor just gave him a smile and stepped closer to look at Teresa. “How old is she?”

“Two weeks or so, according to the birth certificate,” he said, gesturing to the pile of paperwork.

Happy sighed and went to gather the papers as Dr. Jenkins set down her bag and took out a thermometer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Resa, sweety, say Dada. Daaaadaaaa. Daaaadaaaa!”

“She’s not going to be able to say anything, yet,” Rhodey chuckled. “And even if she could, her first word’s going to be Rho. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? Say Rho-Rho!”

“Daaaadaaaa!” Tony cooed, pushing Rhodey away and bouncing the five-month-old on his knees. “Daaaadaaaa!”

“Rho-Rho! Come on, Tessa, you know you love Uncle Rhodey better,” the major teased.

“Lies! Haps, Rhodey’s lying over here!”

Happy lowered the magazine he was reading to glare at his boss. “Keep it down. We’re trying to keep it low key, remember?”

Tony rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

“Mr. Richards?”

The three men looked up at the nurse standing near the doorway. They stood up and Tony passed Teresa to Rhodey.

“How are they?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Everything went fine. They’ve just been moved to the postpartum room. Would you like to see them?”

Tony turned to Rhodey and his friend smiled. “Go on. We’ll let them rest a bit longer before bringing Teresa in.”

He nodded then followed the nurse in.

Tori gave him a sleepy smile when he walked in and held out the bundle of blue fabric in her arms.  “Say hello to Harley Nathaniel Richards.”

“Hey little Davidson,” Tony cooed, holding out his finger to his son.

Tori scowled and turned to the nurse. “Okay, he can leave now.”

The nurse looked between them nervously, but Tony just waved it off. “She’s joking.”

Tori flipped him off.

“I see you’re feeling fine then,” Tony teased as he watched the chubby fingers squeeze his own. “You okay for Happy and Rhodey to come in now? If you’re too tired -”

“I’m fine. If anything, I’ll be better off with Rhodey in here to calm you down.”

Tony shot the nurse a smile. “Would you mind fetching my relaxation Rhodey?”

The nurse frowned.

“The two gentlemen he was with?” Tori explained, slapping his side.

“R-right. Of course, I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want to hold him?” the new mother asked as the nurse slipped out the door.

His eyes lit up and he carefully took his son from her arms. “Hey there, Harls, welcome to the world.”

“Sir, Mr. Stane is calling. Should I send him to voicemail?” J.A.V.I.S.’s voice called out from the phone in his pocket.

Tony was tempted, very tempted, but he’d already run off on Obi the moment he’d gotten the text that Tori was going into labor. If he didn’t answer, his partner was likely to send someone after him and that could not happen.

He trusted Obidiah, but he also knew how the man would react to the news. Kids were a distraction, helping Tori was a waste, and Tony’s reputation would take a big hit if any of it was to come to light. Tony would be better off if he just let Obi either make it all go away or find a convincing cover.

Neither of those options worked for Tony, though, and he wasn’t going to go through the hassle of having to fight with Obi about it.

Tony sighed. “No, I’ll get it. Better to let Obi get it out of his system now.” He pulled his phone out and tucked it between his cheek and shoulder as the call was picked up. He ran his palm over his son’s head, saying, “You’ve reached the -”

“Where are you? There was a board meeting today!”

“Didn’t you get the memo? I told Jay to have my PA send out a memo. The board meeting was canceled.”

“You can’t just cancel board meetings, Tony.”

“Actually, I can. I am the CEO. It was an emergency, couldn’t wait, couldn’t be helped. Oh well.”

“You better not be collapsed drunk in your workshop or bedroom.”

“Nope, in fact, I’m not even in California. And we both know I haven’t had more than a few sips of wine in… How long, Jay?”

“Excluding the half glass of wine at the Nobel Prize Award Ceremony and glass of champagne at the Stark Industries Christmas Charity Gala, you have not had a drink of alcohol in six months, one week, six days, and three hours.”

“Really, nice. I think I’ve earned a chip!”

“I do believe chips are only awarded to those who completely abstain, sir.”

“Tony, I don’t know what’s gotten into you these past couple months -”

The door to the room opened to let in Rhodey and Happy, who was now carrying a giggling Teresa, and an idea sprung into Tony’s head. Interrupting his partner's rant, he said, “Obi, I know you’re worried, but I really had to go. Major Rhodes called me up, needing my expertise with something. You can’t expect me to risk our Air Force contracts by turning away a decorated major in his hour of need, can you?”

Rhodey shot him a look and Tony pouted at him, holding his son a little higher.

“I don’t buy that for a second. I’m well aware of your friendship with Rhodes. You think I don’t know that if I call him up he’ll cover for you?”

Tony tucked Harley’s head next to his chin and batted his eyes.

The major caved.

Rhodey took the phone with a sigh and put it up to his own ear. “Mr. Stane… Yes, I’m sorry to have pulled Tony away from you. We needed help on an urgent, confidential mission… Yes. Of course… Yes… He should be able to return in two days, three at most… Yes, I’ll personally make sure he attends, thank you. Goodbye.” Rhodey hung up the phone and gave Tony a look. “The board meeting’s been rescheduled for four days from now. You will be attending.”

“Thanks, Honeybear, you’re the best,” Tony said, ignoring the comment as he came up to Happy and his daughter. “Look, my ray of sunshine, this is your baby brother. He’s named after a motorcycle, but we won’t judge him for it.”

“You named your firstborn Dum-E, you don’t get to judge,” Rhodey snorted, stealing the boy away from his father.

“He knows what he did,” Tony snorted.

“Your second born is U,” Tori added.

“First of all,” Tony huffed, crossing his arms. “They named themself. That’s not on me. Second, you’re the one always insisting the kids aren’t actually my kids.”

“Robots and a talking alarm system aren’t children, Stark.”

Tony gasped and clutched his phone to his chest. “Don’t listen to her, Jay! You are a real boy!”

Immediately “When You Wish Upon a Star” began playing on his phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A reminder that this is in the past, so that's why Rhodey's still just a Major.

While the Parkers had intended for Peter's (and yes, that's Peter. Note the trans tag) name to be pronounced the American way (tuh-REE-suh), Tony's Italian heritage peeked out so everyone's going to pronounce it that way (teh-REH-zuh), hence Tony's ray of sunshine nickname.

Can you guess where Peter and Harley's names come from?

#tony stark #peter parker #mary parker #harley keener #iron family

[sylveonne]

Hi! For DWC either "It's your fault we're in this mess" or "This is why I listen to you and not my instinct." (Welcome!)

oh man i forgot to post this one lmfao. enjoy an except from my camp nanowrimo project that i incorporated this prompt into!!

lov u @dadrunkwriting

“It’s your fault we’re in this mess to begin with!” Her palms slammed against the ground as she manually cast a spread of fire mines in front of them. Her staff was a few yards away, leaning against a tree.

“My fault?” Dorian lobbed an orb of fire at the rampaging bear. “You’re the one who wanted to stop to bathe in this damned spring!” With a grunt of effort, he wrenched his arms up to raise a wall of fire. Adhlea scrambled from one end of the pool of water to the other and hopped up onto the ledge, then sprinted to her staff.

“Clear the water!” she directed, already summoning the energy necessary for her spell. Dorian jumped backwards, luring the bear after him a few steps as his spell wore off, and the beast stepped on one of the mines she had just planted. She grinned viciously and released lightning magic into the water. The bear was electrocuted instantly. It gave a final huff, then died.

Adhlea set her staff back down against the tree and returned to the spring, hopping in as if nothing had happened. “I meant that it’s your fault we got sent back in time when we were just trying to test out the spell for scrying purposes,” she continued.

Dorian, used to her bizarre ways at this point, shook his head and went to fetch his clothes instead. “I fail to see how that has anything to do with this situation,” he grumbled, tugging on his smalls.

She flicked water back at him without turning her head. “We wouldn’t be bathing in the wilderness if you hadn’t put so much energy into the spell that I got sucked in,” she lilted. Dead bear or no, she seemed content to soak for a little while longer. Dorian huffed but didn’t argue further. She wasn’t completely wrong, after all, and now they would have to try to find the artifacts in person instead of being able to scry them from the moderate comfort of their base of operations. He finished buckling his trousers just as his companion tossed a large fish out of the spring. “Looks like I caught lunch and dinner,” Adhlea said with a challenging smirk. He just sighed, tugged on his boots, and went to gather firewood while shirtless.

He lingered around the edge of their camp until she returned to actually bathing, then snagged her clothes silently from where they had been laid over a smooth-faced rock and stashed them in their tent. Dorian returned to prepping the campfire.

Several minutes later, her indignant shout was worth the wait.

#dragon age: inquisition #da:i #this will be a full fic eventually #dorian pavus #lavellan #dwc #write? right #saras-almanac #tpofa #the power of fervor alone

[underopenskies]

A start of some kind

((Here’s what Fonty and I have been teasing you with for a while now owo Hehehe. The next bit will be coming eventually- i need to finish editing it, and it’s a lot of words to edit. So XD ya’ll gotta wait. Anyways, enjoy this. It’s a loooong read. about 23k words, I do believe.

@fontsandsins

They were scheduled to have the midwife come up within the next couple of days, when Skylar realized that they really had the house only stocked for two people, not three. And, given the relative closeness to her due date, she’d rather not wait until they were out of everything before going to the store to go get it. Two weeks out was not the time to be fooling around with running out of things.

They had the guest room prepared for the midwife, however, so that was done. They just… needed extra supplies. Toilet paper- heavens knew, with the frequency that Skylar had to pee, she could go through a package of it in a week on her own- was a definite need, and they had run out of laundry soap, among other things.

However, heckling her fiancé into letting her go to town was not as simple as just getting her list together and snagging her purse. He didn’t have an issue going to town- but he was more hesitant in taking her with him. His nightmare still plagued him, and her infrequent bouts of braxton hicks didn’t help soothe that worry any.

Bella was playing hell on her body, that was for sure.

“Hamish.” Skylar sighed lightly, and tucked her fist into her lower back. “We need t’ go t’ town, sweetheart. We have things we need t’ get- got lots o’ things tha’ we don’t have enough of for havin’ three people in th’ same house- an’ I’d kinda like t’ go too. Maybe see if there’s a couple movies out n’ pick them up, n’ browse some things while we’re out.”

Hamish wore a large pout. He knew Skylar was right, but he had put himself in a sticky spot. Memories of his nightmare had him not wanting to drive out with Skylar, but leaving her here on her own was not an option. He sighed and shuffled forward, leaning to rest his head against hers. "You're feeling well enough for the trip?" He questioned.

She sighed softly again, and nuzzled her horns gently against his skull. The back curve of her horns cradled his head easily as he leaned against her, and she peered up at him gently but firmly. “I’m feeling about as well as a blimp with legs n’ arms can, Haz.” She rubs his forearms gently, and gives him a lopsided smile. “I had those two Braxton Hicks this mornin’, but haven’t had any more. I’d really like t’ go t’ town with ya- kinda my last hoo-rah before m’ bundled in th’ house an’ surroundin’ area until lil’ miss Bella is in our arms.”

Ha caved. He couldn't say no to her. "Okay, but you gotta promise me you're going to take it easy after this." He said, cupping her face between his hands.

He squished her cheeks a little bit, but other than making her freckled cheeks pudge up a little bit, it didn’t disturb her ability to talk. She arched her brows at him. “Hamish, if I take it any easier, I’ll be sittin’ on th’ couch all day an’ doin’ literally nothin’ but bein’ a lump. But… I can try, I guess. Once th’ midwife comes, m’ gonna have help inside th’ house while you’re handlin’ the outside stuff.”

He smiled and kissed her. "Okay. Well, if we're going you better use the bathroom." He suggested, patting his pockets then going off to fetch his phone.

“Yep, ‘cause it’s a long drive an’ squatting might mean I won’t get back up again. You’d have t’ go get one o’ th’ cranes from Ava’s worksite.” She jokes, and waddles off to go use the bathroom. Once she’s emptied her bladder, she makes her way back out and goes to fetch her purse, flinging it over her shoulder and adjusting her top over her middle. With Bella having dropped, all of her shirts sat weird now. Her bellybutton was perpetually trying to peek out now, no matter what she wore- and she’d pretty much given up on wearing anything that didn’t have a stretchy waistband.

She kneaded a hand into her lower back and contemplated wearing her cowboy boots- or going with the arch-support flip-flops her mom had sent when she’d mentioned having sore feet. Her feet hurt like hell- but what to wear, what to wear… What was she least likely to trip on, more like. The soles on her boots were starting to wear out, and the flip-flops had no soles to speak of, so both were slipping hazards anymore.

But the boots had more sole than the flip-flops. So boots it was.

Hamish had already gone out to the truck to quickly check on things before the drive, deciding he should probably empty his bladder too before the drive he simply settled on going next to the tire instead.

She walked out about the time he was peeing next to the truck, and she quirked a grin, her boots clicking faintly as she made her was to the stairs. She took her time going down. “Ya know, I think only th’ dogs are gonna appreciate you markin’ the truck as your territory, sweetheart.” Skylar teases. She kicks up small puffs of dirt as she makes her way over to the passenger side of the truck, and opens the door, tossing her purse in. Getting in the truck was a bit harder- and required a lot of sliding, and trying not to fall back out the way she was coming from.

Hamish turned and looked over his shoulder at her, his face flushing slightly as he shook his self, and then tucked himself back into his pants. Walking over to her side and helping her get in, once he was sure she was in, he shut her door and walked around to his side and climbed in, putting the key in the ignition and starting the car. He smiled and pulled out of the driveway and started down the dirt road.

Skylar took her time getting comfortable in the truck, leaning against the door once she was sure it was locked, and rubbed her middle as she curled her legs up a little bit. The bones of her feet were swollen and tender- but there wasn’t much to be done for it. Elevation would help- but that would require a couch and a mound of pillows, or sitting sideways in the truck. If she did that, the seatbelt wouldn’t fit around her. Skylar sighed contently and took a moment to look at his seat behind the wheel. She suddenly laughed. “Hey, Haz? With how my belly’s sitting, I wouldn’t fit behind th’ wheel anymore. It wouldn’t turn.”

Hamish looked at her belly then down at the steering wheel and laughed. "I don't think you're allowed to drive while that pregnant anyway." He said as they drove down the dirt road, the tire's stirring up clouds of red dust behind them. He tapped his fingers on the wheel. "You wanna find some music?" He asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I would be if I didn’t have any other ride. At least, I think.” She’s not actually sure on that. She grunts a bit, and leans forward to reach the stereo, and turns it on. ‘Don’t Take The Girl’ began to play softly from the speakers, and she hummed, turning to him for his opinion on it. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for it, too sad for her tastes, but she’d ask his opinion before channel flipping. “Yay or nay? Kinda ‘n old song. Didn’t know they were doin’ older country songs t’day.”

Hamish's hands tightened on the steering wheel and his brows pushed together. "U-uh… something else please." He breathed out.

Her brows pinched for half a second on confusion, before understanding lit her face. She changed the channel- and something more upbeat and new-age came on. She simply smiled, and left it on that, before rubbing his thigh gently. “Sweetheart, ‘s gonna be okay.” She soothes gently.

He tipped his head and smiled at her, letting one of his hands fall from the wheel to rest over her hand. "I know… just, I can't help worrying... I suppose, it's… not very likely… In the dream it happened on our wedding night, when we were coming home from your moms." He explained.

Skylar shifts and changes sides, so she can lean on his arm instead of the door, and laces her fingers with his over his. “It’s not very likely indeed. We’re four weeks out from our wedding, sweetheart. Bella’s gonna be born at home, probably either in our room, or in th’ tub like we’ve talked about, an’ she’s gonna be here for th’ weddin’.” She smooches his cheek gently to distract him from bad thoughts as she massages his hand. “Kinda wish our tub was a lil’ bigger, so you could be in there with me if we do end up in there. But, ya walkin’ boot can’t get wet, an’ ya still have some trouble walkin’ without it.” Let alone trying to help support a laboring mother.

She quirks a cheeky grin at him all the same. “Maybe we can invest in a bigger tub for th’ next time we have a baby?”

Hamish nodded. "I was thinking actually… Of asking Ava to come up and take a look at the house with me...was thinking maybe we could extend it out and up… I'm just not sure if there is asbestos in the roof." He said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Well,” She purses her lips with a thoughtful frown, “If there is, that’s definitely a bad thing. But I like th’ idea o’ extending the house out n’ up. A second floor would be nice- maybe a closer bathroom? Or two bathrooms. Havin’ multiple kids makes one bathroom a nightmare- it was with three brothers, lemme tell ya.” That was the one design flaw her dad had made. Only one bathroom in the entire house. A damn nice bathroom- but only one. She frowns thoughtfully. “If there is asbestos in the roof, I’m not sure how either of ya will handle that. Th’ dust is toxic n’ can cause all sorts o’ bad, bad things. It’d probably be safer t’ pitch a couple o’ tents while ya took down th’ roof- or use th’ loft o’ th’ barn for th’ time being.” Either worked, honestly. The loft of the barn would have less of a chance of snakes trying to crawl into the tent with them.

Hamish nodded. "If we're extending up, the roof will have to come off asbestos or not. Maybe you could stay with Lola while Ava and I do the extensions…? It would probably take a while… I wouldn't want my beautiful girls livin’ in a barn all that time. We have time. After the wedding I'll have him come up and we can check everything out… then you and I can work out what we'd want." He mused, a pleased look settling on his face. The image of his creaky old farm house growing into...a larger, still creaky…he liked that… but a bigger and safer farm house, full of his future family. He liked that idea a lot.

Skylar smiled wryly and chuckled. “I wouldn’t want t’ impose, but I can ask. If Lola isn’t up t’ housin’ me n’ Bella with a new baby o’ her own, then you’re forgettin’ that Ma’ always has space. N’ is she gonna turn down th’ chance t’ spend time with her first grandbaby? I think not.” Yeah, it’d be a long drive away from him- but she’d heckle her brothers into bringing them out to visit if she ended up staying at her mothers. Lola would have a new baby too- and there was no telling if the tiny mother would want to deal with two new infants in the house at once.

A slow smile grew on Skylar’s face, and she beamed up at him. “I’m likin’ this idea more and more, Haz. Heh… Gonna need lots o’ rooms, ‘cause we want lots o’ kids, n’ eventually they’re gonna need their own rooms. Well, want their own rooms.” She smooches his cheek again. “S’ gonna be a big job though. Ya sure jus’ you n’ Ava can handle it? ‘Cause this seems like it’s gonna be a… I dunno, like… year long job, o’ sorts. I don’ know much about buildin’ though.”

Hamish hummed. "That's why I wanna work with Ava. If he thinks we need more people to work on it, he will know who to call." He said, tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

Her fingers followed the beat of the music likewise, but on his hand instead. “Yeah, I suppose he would. Alright- then it’s settled. The two o’ you can start t’ work it out. But… I want a couple o’ months with jus’ us getting used t’ being parents first, before ya start tackling our housing issue.” She watches out the window, and watches the scenery go by. Her eyes droop a little bit, and she hums a soft tune along with the song.

Hamish smiled. "Of course Sky… I don't wanna kick you an Bella out before I even get a chance to spend time with you both." He said as they left the dirt road and turned onto a more main road, slowly more and more houses started passing by between the acres of fields. Some full of animals, others grape vines or fruit trees.

It was fairly familiar sights by now- not as much as the farm was to her, or the land back where she had grown up, but she’d had enough ultrasounds by now that she knew the road to town quite well. She nuzzled his shoulder with a smile and chuckled. “Mhm. Good. I’d be pretty upset ‘f ya didn’t get t’ experience th’ joys o’ getting t’ experience all o’ parenthood for th’ first time. Babies grow quick.” She remembered her brothers being small- the first year had seemed to fly by so fast, it had felt unreal.

Skylar let out a tiny grunt as he hit a couple bumps in the road, but otherwise the ride was smooth and comfortable enough not to bother her sore back.

Hamish turned off the main road and down a stretch of road, houses and shops quickly came in to view in the distance and the population of cars on the road grew. Hamish eased up his speed, shifting gears as they came into town. He liked the country town, it wasn't big but cafe's, small super markets and shops lined the streets, at the center of the town was a roundabout that had 4 exit's making the town roads a large plus shape, Hamish slowed down to a crawl as they neared the round about, turning on the indicator and turning.

The rumble of his engine drew the attention of a group of farmers sitting at a table outside the pub, two of them stood and raised their glasses, shouting out to him boisterously. "OI HAZZA!! SHOULD COME HAVE A DRINK WITH US MATE, INTRODUCE US TO YER SHEILA!"

Hamish's cheek's flushed slightly and he let out a laugh. "You wouldn't mind a quick stop? I don't want a drink… but these guys won't leave me alone until they meet you?"

The loud shouting definitely caught her attention, but Skylar simply laughed. “I don’t mind stoppin’ sweetheart. But ya gonna have t’ abstain for sure. ‘F ya drink, then I gotta drive, and I ain’t gonna fit behind th’ wheel.” She chuckles. She straightens all the same and adjusts her shirt as best as she can, before giving him a lopsided grin. “Go ahead n’ find a spot t’ park, sweetheart, n’ we can go visit ya friends. I’d like t’ meet them too.”

Hamish bit his tongue between his teeth and leaned forward in his seat slightly, He flipped on the indicator and pulled in, tugging the handbreak on and shutting off the truck. He undid his seatbelt and pushed out of his door, closing it then walking over to Skylar's side, opening the door for her to help her out. He held her hand as he locked the truck and walked with her over to the table outside the pub.

"Well look at this." One of the boys said, getting up from the table and shaking Hamish's hand. "Congratulations." He said, turning to Skylar. "She's a beauty, Haz, you lucky bastard. Nice to meet you, names Garry, went to school with Haz, been friends with this bugga since we were probably the size of that little nugget in your belly."

Skylar offered out her free hand that wasn’t occupied by Hamish out to Garry, and gave him a bright smile, sharp teeth and all. She could smell the alcohol they’d all been consuming, but it didn’t bother her. Hamish had beers at home often enough- it never irked her nose. Cigarettes, on the other hand, did. “Pretty sure he n’ I both are pretty lucky, mister Garry.” She beamed to him, all sunshine and smiles. “Oh yeah? I’m sure you’ve got all sorts o’ funny stories t’ tell then. Childhood friends got all o’ th’ best stories.” She grinned, and elbowed her fiancé playfully. “Some o’ th’ more embarassin’ ones too. It’s nice t’ meet you though, Garry. I’m Skylar McQuillin- gonna be Skylar Parker here soon though.” She chirps, and then twitches her chin towards the massive swell of her middle. “N’ this ‘s Bella.”

Garry chuckled. "You wanna hear some of tha real embarrasin' shit, you come find me darlin', I know all the real dog shit on Haz."

Hamish rolled his eyes and snorted.

Garry smiled and shook Skylar's hand. "You wouldn't mind if I had a feel would ya? My partner started talking about kids… Dunno how I feel about it yet."

Hamish laughed. "You'd have to give up bettin' on the horse races up at Wangaratta."

"I'll do that." She laughed lightly. She tilts her head as she listens to them talking, and quirks a grin. Skylar hums. "Having babies is a lot o' work. Hamish is right that you'd have to give up bettin' on horse racing. But I don't mind at all." She shifts and offers her middle. Her hand is placed on her lower back to help support the strain, and she leans a little bit on Hamish. "She's got her feet near th' top o' my belly, so ya might have more luck there. She's a strong kicker. Got her Daddy's feet, she does."

Garry laughed again and smoothed his hand over the top of Skylar's belly trying to find her feet under his fingers.

Hamish curled his arm around Skylar and watched Garry.

Skylar hummed gently, and guided his fingers with a gentle hand when after a moment he had no luck. "There she is..." She beams. Bella kicked out, and nails her and him, before squirming as per the usual.

Garry chuckled and watched his hand. "Well, ain’t she a little fighter." He smiled.

Hamish grinned proudly.

"Oh yeah." She snorts. "You should see her when Hamish 's late on readin' t' her at night. She gets real feisty." She let's his hand follow Bella's movements for a little bit more, before letting his hand go. "She's gonna be a handful, but what else can ya expect from babies with horns?" She beams with pride. "She's due soon too. Got two weeks, 'f she don't decide t' come early."

Her middle rippled and hardened, skin twitching under her shirt, making Bella squirm before going still. Skylar massaged her lower back as it cramped.

Hamish smiled down at the swell of Skylar's belly. "We're stocking up on supplies. We want to do a home birth so after today… we're pretty much staying at the house until Bella decides she wants out."

Garry nodded. "Well, I'll let you do get to it then, good seeing ya Haz… don't stay a stranger okay? It was lovely meeting you Skylar. When yer little nugget's born, we should all catch up… dinner and beers or something."

Skylar nods. “Dinner n’ beers sounds good.” She grins at him cheerily, and shifts her hips a bit, shuffling her feet in an antsy manner. “I’ll make sure Haz takes some time t’ call y’all n’ catch up between work n’ takin’ care o’ our lil’ girl, n’ we’ll figure out a time t’ do dinner n’ beers once I can actually join y’all for th’ beers.” She exhales a little rougher when the tightness passes, and gently bumps her horn to Hamish’s shoulder. “I’d love t’ meet ya partner, Garry- so it’ll be nice t’ do a get t’gether. We’ll see ya around, yeah?”

Hamish gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You let me know how that baby havin’ works out, maybe I could give you some tips." The pair laughed, and then said their good byes. "So… Two options, we can either... actually, no, we wont walk, that would mean carrying everything back here, we will drive up to the supermarket." He slapped himself mentally and wrapped his arm around her, walking with her back to his truck.

She chuckled, but let him lead her along without much fuss. “Hamish, we can walk. A lil’ exercise ain’t gonna hurt me none- besides, ya already got a parking spot. I mean, I wouldn’t fuss about bein’ closer,” rather, her feet wouldn’t, with as sore as they were, “but I wouldn’t mind walkin’ an’ getting’ t’ spend more time out n’ about with ya.” She leaned into him as they walked, and sighed cheerily as they reached the truck. “Supermarket is… what, four, five blocks from here?” Not a long jaunt for a normal person. A bit of a jaunt for a heavily pregnant one, but Skylar was a fit lady. She could make the walk.

"How about this- we do the shopping first, leave all the bags in the car, then we can do a bit of walking, maybe get lunch and just browse around for a bit?" He suggested, pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock the truck.

“That sounds good t’ me.” She nods. Once he’s got the truck unlocked, Skylar shimmies back into her seat, and settles with a soft puff of air. “I wouldn’t mind getting lunch with ya after shoppin.” She quirks a smile at him and tugs the seatbelt around her belly again, adjusting it’s length to fit her girth. “What were ya thinkin’ for lunch? Anything you’d like in particular? M’ good so long as th’ place has somethin’ with chicken in it.”

Hamish got into his seat and pulled his belt on, starting the truck. "There is a bakery that does a mean chicken and mushroom pie." He said, reversing and pulling back onto the road. He drove around, coming back to the roundabout and taking the second exit driving up and looking for a new parking spot as close to the supermarket as he could get.

“Ooo. That sounds kinda like a chicken version o’ pirozhki. ‘Cept I doubt it’s bite sized.” She perked up a bit. “Tha’ sounds real’ good.” She turned her gaze out the window, keeping an eye out for a spot. There weren’t any super close ones, but there was one just down the street. “There’s one down there, Haz. ‘S probably about as good as we’re gonna get.”

Hamish followed her finger to spot where she was pointing and nodded, flipping the indicator on and pulling in. He parked and turned the car off, getting out and walking around to Skylar's side to make sure she was okay.

She was making her way out of the car gingerly, rubbing her fingers lightly against her belly as she clamored out. Skylar accepted his assistance however, despite the looks it garnered them from onlookers who seemed to be content ogling the man in the walking boot assisting the massively pregnant horned lady out of the truck. She gave him a thankful smile, and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, sweetheart.” She snagged her purse, and tossed it over her shoulder, and then stepping out of the way of the door. She closed it, and left him to lock up the car while she stretched her back and rocked her hips, letting her back realign itself with a couple of noisy pops as it did so. It didn’t help the sore muscles, but damn, it helped with her sore spine. “Ah, god, that needed t’ pop a while ago. Much better. A’right.” She grins. “Lets go get th’ shoppin’ done.”

Hamish locked the truck and chuckled. He curled his fingers around Skylar's hand and walked with her into the supermarket. "You got a list?" He asked, digging into his pockets and finding his wallet, putting a dollar into a shopping cart so he could take it for them to use. He pushed it along, leaning on the handle.

Skylar fished around in her purse for a moment, and then withdrew a long slip of paper. She waved it at him with a cheeky grin, and grunted as she got bumped into by a bunch of rowdy teens as they made their way out of the store. She chuffs in amusement, and offers it over as they weave between the rowdy group, who doesn’t seem to care about the adults trying to make their way through. Kids these days- goodness. “Yup.” She says. “I wrote it up before I started t’ pester ya about comin’ t’ town.” She grins cheekily. “M’ all prepared. First on our list ‘s toiletries. Toilet paper is a must.” Particularly when pregnancy did weird things to her systems. She used the bathroom a lot.

Hamish glared at the careless kids and grumbled.

He pushed the cart down the aisles, looking for the toiletries. He stopped in front of the toilet paper and reached up picking the packet that gave them the most rolls of toilet paper. He hummed, and then got a second one. "Okay, what's next? We should get more toothpaste and new brushes."

“More paste is good, and we’re definitely due for new brushes.” Skylar had patted his arm for his grumbles at the kids- kids would be kids, and Hamish was prone to be grumpy at people for bumping into her at this point- but otherwise let him glare. His fiancé gives him a grin, and chomps her teeth playfully at him. “I dunno how, but somehow I always seem t’ go through my toothbrushes super fast. I guess it’s jus’ one o’ th’ many mysteries o’ the world, huh?”

Thankfully, the toothbrushes and toothpaste weren’t far, and she spotted them just another isle over. She bumped her belly into his hip like the wide load she was as she turned around- better him than the shelves, honestly- and gave him a sheepish look before waddling back and around to go to the next isle over. “Ah, I need t’ pick up some polish for my horns.” She lifts a hand to tap one of her long curling ones. “I ran out, n’ they’ll get flaky and whatnot if I don’t keep m’ polished. Think they sell it here, or are we gonna have t’ stop at th’ feed-store?” If they flaked, then they peeled, just like cattle horns did. And when they peeled down too far… Well, Skylar’s horns were sensitive at the bases- and pleasure could quickly turn to pain.

Hamish shrugged. "Horn polish isn't ever something I really looked for in the supermarket. They might have some." He said following her with the cart. He smiled, walking behind Skylar his eyes trailing down to watch her bum while she walked, his mouth curling into a smirk.

“A bottle o’ it lasts me an age, so ‘s not somethin’ you’ve had t’ buy with me yet.” A little bit went a long ways- and the polish lasted for weeks at a time. Technically she didn’t need to get it not, but she’d rather get it now than when she needed it later. She quirks a lopsided smile at him, and notes where his eyes are trained. If she wasn’t sure she’d lose her balance, she’d sashay for him. Alas- she values safety over giving him a good view. “It’s somethin’ ya gonna have t’ get used to with me, though.” Her smile turns a bit drier, perhaps a bit sour, but she simply sighs. “It’s probably in th’ section for animals, if they’ve got one here. ‘S where I usually find it, anyways. Used t’ get all sorts o’ flack for it back when I was in school- havin’ t’ use animal products, tha’ is.”

Skylar snags the toothbrushes and their chosen toothpastes, and tosses them into the cart. After that she hums, and glances up at the top sections of the isles, glancing at the labels for the isles.

"I think your horns are beautiful." He cooed after her, pushing the cart up along side her and glancing down at the list. He pushed the cart down the next isle, the stopped looking at the different bags of dog food. He reached up and pulled a bag of dry food off the shelf and laid it in the cart. He walked down the isle slowly, looking over everything.

“You’re one o’ few, n’ ya real sweet for thinkin’ so.” She informs him honestly, and smiles as he goes to fetch food for Molly and Leroy. Good dogs deserved good chow. While he’s getting food, she waddles a bit further down, and checks out the small ‘livestock’ section they had at the end of the pets isle. For the most part, they thankfully seemed to mostly carry grooming supplies, or halters. She spotted a few bullrings too, including a temporary one that clipped and locked inside the nose, instead of piercing it. An amused chuckle leaves her, before her eye lights wander on.

Lo and behold, at the very bottom of the shelves, there are several kinds of polish. She hides a groan, and awkwardly shuffles, before crouching down to check them out. Skylar tsks with a huff. “O’ course, th’ stuff I prefer t’ get ‘s like twice as expensive as the other stuff. Mmn. Twenty five for polish ‘s ridiculous.” She grumbles softly, and collects a bottle of the cheaper polish into her hand, bracing herself on the shelf with her other when her balance goes off kilter and makes her wobble. She hums, and looks it over, before setting it back down and perusing the few cheaper brands. “And th’ one that’s on sale ‘s th’ one that makes my horns peel instead o’ preventing it.”

Hamish came up behind her and looked down. "You found it." He smiled, watching her with a slightly amused smile at her crouched down.

“I did- on th’ bottom most shelf o’ the whole place.” She nods without looking at him, and scoops up her preferred bottle. She waves it in the air above her head with a huff. “They want twenty five for th’ stuff I usually get. I mean, ‘s not like ‘s a bad price considering how long it usually lasts me, but all th’ same.” She makes another vaguely huffy sound. “All o’ the cheaper stuff they have here ‘s jus’ gonna wear out too fast, or make my horns dry out n’ peel, an’ then they’re gonna hurt. This one here,” she points to another one of the cheaper ones, “doesn’t do either o’ those, but ‘f I get it on my skin, I get hives.”

Being down so low, however, isn’t necessarily good- and her belly tightens and cramps, and she’s not quite braced for the unpleasant Braxton hicks. Her grumbling cuts off swiftly, and she sucks in a breath, hand tightening on the shelf. The hand holding the bottle cradles it close to her middle, and she simply waits for it to pass. God damn, she’d forgotten how much they sucked when she was crouched down and doing something.

Hamish smiled and crouched down, taking the bottle of her preferred brand from her hand and dropping it in the cart, he rubs his fingers against her back, trying to help ease away the cramps. "It's okay babe, if it's the stuff that makes you feel best, then we will get it." He said quietly.

“Mmmhm…” She murmured distractedly for a moment. His fingers on her back felt nice though- and once the tightness in her belly eased, she found some comfort in them. She exhaled roughly, and scrubs her now empty hand against her forehead. “Mm, sorry. That was… a nasty Braxton Hicks. Crouching makes them worse, n’ I forgot that. An’ thank ya, Haz. Sorry about fussin’ over polish. ‘S a bit o’ a sore subject. M’ brothers can use whatever polish under th’ sun, without issue- but it took me years t’ find th’ one that didn’t make my horns peel like a bad sunburn. They keep jackin’ th’ price on it upwards. ‘T used t’ be like, six bucks a thing.” She’d also been like… eight, when it was six bucks a thing, and she hadn’t been that young in a long time. But she’d always felt guilty buying the polish when times were tight at home- particularly when the price continued to climb.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, and then uses the shelf to haul herself upright again, before leaning over and smooching his cheek.

Hamish nuzzled his forehead against her horns in reassurance. He tipped head slightly to look down at the list. "What’s next?" He asked softly.

The reassurance was nice, and made her simply smile. At his question, she followed his gaze and hummed. “Ah… Looks like foodstuffs next. So… back thataway.” She pointed down the isles, past the baby supplies and toiletries. She feels a little winded from that pre-contraction, but doesn’t let it phase her as she makes her slow way down the isles, eyes focused on the list as they pass by the isle full of baby shoes, hats, toys, and tiny, tiny clothes.

Hamish's eyes wondered over each isle they passed, he perked up at the baby cloths. "Oh- shit, Sky!" He said suddenly, letting go of their cart and stepping into the isle. "Look at these." He said excitedly, picking up infant sized cowboy boots and a matching hat. He carried them over to Skylar and placed the little hat against her belly. "Just like mommy." He cooed.

His sudden swear had caught her attention, and Skylar had been half way back over to him by the time he’d excitedly scuttled over to her once more. The hat on her belly was a surprise- but a welcome one. Skylar laughed warmly, and brushed her hand to her belly. “Oh golly- Haz, tha’s jus’ adorable and jus’ like Daddy too, don’t ya forget. Are those tiny boots in ya hand?” She gingerly takes them from him, and grins before resting them gently on her middle. Bella kicks out against them, and she eyes the size for a moment, before chortling. “Might wanna grab another size up for th’ boots, sweetheart. Baby Bella has your feet- n’ these are pretty tiny.” It wasn’t like she wouldn’t grow into them if they were too big anyways.

Hamish chuckled and took the boots back, finding the next size up. He stood them on Skylar's belly he grinned widely. "Can we get them for her?" he asked, grinning widely at the tiny pair of shoes. He nudged his head against Skylar’s.

“Of course.” Skylar nudged him back, and nuzzled her horns gently against his temple. She smiled at the little boots on her belly, and grunts as Bella boots the little boots. “What a little cutie~ Heh. Hat n’ boots are a package deal.” She scoops up the hat, and twirls it on her finger, before cuddling it to her chest. Skylar beams at him. “We’re getting m’ both. Bella’s first hat n’ boots. We’re gonna have t’ take a family picture with all o’ us in our hats n’ boots.”

She rubs her belly gently, and smiles warmly.

Hamish grinned and pressed a kiss against her cheek, placing the boots into the cart. He took the list from Skylar and began pushing the cart again to find the rest of what they needed.

It took them a while to get everything that they needed on the list, and the cart was quite full by the time that they got up to the front of the store again.

Skylar’s legs were fairly tired by the time that they got up to the front and got in line to get everything paid for. They’d had to back track across the floor multiple times when they’d missed something on the list, so she’d gotten lots of walking in. She was sore as hell, but what was new?

She braced her hip against the cart, and started to unload the cart onto the conveyer belt. She grinned up at Hamish, and hummed a soft sound. “I’ll get th’ stuff this time, sweetheart. Ya can get lunch, yeah?”

Hamish chuckled and nodded in agreement, knowing there was no point trying to argue with his wife to be. "Hey, maybe all this walking will get Bella to wriggle her way down more?" He said, helping Sky unload their items from the shopping cart.

She appreciated the help, and with his aid, the cart was soon empty. The cashier began ringing them up and gave them a harried smile, but focused on his task.

“Maybe indeed.” Skylar laughs. She rubs her middle and shifts awkwardly. Bella was sitting like a bowling ball in her pelvis, making her uncomfortable as usual. “She’s certainly sittin’ heavy inside o’ me right now.” She inhales softly, and exhales even quieter. “Had a couple o’ braxton hicks while we’ve been out, so maybe. I’d love t’ see here.”

“You’re due soon?” The man behind the counter tilted his head as he rang things up and blinked at them both.

Hamish grinned proudly and nodded. "Yup, this is our first." He said, lifting the heavier items like the dog food out of the cart. Once the cart was empty, Hamish moved the cart around and began loading the cart back up with the bags of groceries.

“The first is special.” The man nods with a faint grin. “I’ve got two myself. Congrats- and good luck. Having kids is something else- you women are strong folk, and I have no idea how you manage to do it.”

“I dunno how it’s going t’ go either.” Skylar gave the cashier a smile, and left Hamish to put the bags into the cart while she waited at the card reader. She fetched her wallet from her purse, and collected her card from within that, and watched the cashier work through their collection of items. “But we’ll see how ‘t happens when it happens.” She chuckles.

“It’s messy.” The man laughs. “Really messy. But definitely something amazing to witness. Kinda gross though, I will admit.”

Skylar snorts a laugh, and scans her card as he rings the last of the items up and gets the total for them. “I’ve seen plenty o’ animal births t’ know that much.”

Hamish listened to Skylar talking to the man with a smile on his face. He finished loading the cart and wrapped an arm around Skylar. "I'm sure we will be okay. We've just got to wait for our little miss to decide she wants to come out and meet us." He said, rubbing Skylar's back as he spoke.

“She’s still technically got two more weeks t’ finish cookin’ before she’s technically due t’ come out.” Skylar reminds him with an amused chuckle, and leans a little bit into his touch. Her back was beginning to cramp again- which was seemingly the prelude to her Braxton Hicks.

“Babies come out whenever they like.” The man laughs. “My wife was three days over due when she had our son- and then three weeks early with our daughter. Babies pick and choose when they’re ready.” He hands over the receipt, and gives them a tired smile. “Good luck to the both of you.”

Skylar nods, and tucks the receipt into her wallet for later. “Thank you.” She nods and smiles. She gently bumps Hamish with her hip when another patron behind them clears their throat impatiently. “C’mon, sweetheart. We got a bit o’ a jaunt, n’ lots o’ bags t’ carry t’ the car.”

Hamish pushed the cart out to his truck and began unloading the bags into the tray. He packed them together tightly, and then pulled out the tarp to cover them. He held it, frozen for a moment, staring at the faded blue plastic with images of blood covering the material flashing passed his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook off the images, laying the tarp over the shopping items and tying the tarp down to stop the weather or passerby's from messing with their shopping.

He didn't stress too much about it. People in country towns tended to have a big more respect for other peoples property than city people did, covering the shopping was also necessary if they wanted to be able to drive home with all their shopping still in the truck when they got home.

While he got the shopping items secured with the tarp, Skylar had took the cart back to the supermarket for them. She clicked it back into the lock, retrieved the dollar it spat back out, and then headed back on the jaunt back over to him to meet him there so they could decide on where to eat at.

The walk back over, however, triggered her Braxton Hicks- and Skylar ended up stopping a few cars away from their truck to let it pass, leaning against a light post and pressing a hand to her belly with a sore sound. She knew Hamish would be expecting her back a little sooner- but she just needed to rest a moment. Walking with this one wasn’t pleasant- and it was making an unpleasant stinging sensation cross her pelvic floor.

All the same, she was out of the way of any traffic, so she could simply close her eyes for a moment, lean on the light post, and just breathe. It was a particularly unpleasant and strong one, she noted, and it rippled all along her belly in unpleasant waves that made the flesh rock hard.

Hamish had finished securing their shopping and stepped back to the front of the truck to look out for Skylar, He spotted her easily and made his way over. "Hey… You okay?" He asked, moving so her could massage her back. He looked down at her with sympathy. She was going through so much discomfort to bring their baby into the world. He really wished there was a way she could transfer some of her pain to him so she could be a bit more comfortable.

“Not really.” She answered honestly, and focused on simply breathing until it ended. Like always, his touch was soothing, and she found comfort in his hands working soothing circles on her lower back. When her middle finally softened, she shivered slightly, and massaged her sore middle. “Ah… That hurt. That was… wow, a hell o’ a practice one.” Skylar managed to glance up and give him a mildly unsteady smile, before straightening off the post. “I had t’ stop for a moment. Walkin’ made my belly hurt somethin’ nasty there for a moment. ‘S better now though. Alright… We were gonna go get lunch at th’ bakery, yeah?”

Hamish nodded. "It's not far, just a few shops down, are you going to be okay walking down there?" He asked.

Skylar contemplated for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Yeah. I should be alright. Might not be up t’ wanderin’ all o’ th’ shops like we originally planned,” she admits sadly, “but I do wanna do lunch with ya still, Haz.” She takes a breath, rubs her belly, and then peers down at it. “Behave for a lil’ bit, Bella.” She cooes gently, before offering her arm to Hamish. “Alright. Ya wanna lead th’ way?”

Hamish took hold of her hand and started towards the bakery, keeping to Skylar's pace, not wanting to rush her. There really wasn't any need to rush anyway, the day was truly a beautiful one and should be enjoyed for what it was.

The couple walked slowly, a few people Hamish recognized from passing by them other times he had been in town flashed the pair kind smiles.

Any kind smiles they got were given back in turn. Skylar ended up keeping to a slow pace, that only got slower when she got distracted by something across the way, or if she dealt with a sudden cramp. It made for an awkward pace- but it was a pace all the same. She enjoyed the walk despite it all, and snuggled into his arm as they walked, having to make him stop only once when another Braxton Hicks hit and walking was not necessarily pleasant. The walk that might have been a short walk ended up being more of a ten to fifteen minute walk, perhaps closer to twenty due to her speed and the break she had to take.

Still, she pushed through once she’d dealt with it, and they soon found themselves at the bakery. The smell of bread made her mouth water as the door opened and someone slipped out with their purchase. “Oh wow, Haz.” Her eyes sparkled a little. “Tha’ smells real good.”

Hamish laughed. "The best bakery in Mansfeild." He said, holding the door open so she could enter without worrying about the swinging door hitting her. She was right, the smell was good, everything from freshly made bread, baked sweets, pies, quiches and sausage rolls. Bakeries were awesome.

She gave him a thankful smile and slipped inside. The smells were heavenly, and she couldn’t help quietly sniffing the air. “Mmm.” She grins. “Goodness, I think I smell some sweet stuff too.” His wife to be forever had an incurable sweet tooth- mostly for healthy, fruity things, mind, but she definitely wouldn’t turn down a pastry at this point. She waits for him to slip in after her, and then waddles for one of the counters to eye what they have. “I’m thinkin’ somethin’ with strawberries ‘f they got anything like that.”

Hamish snorted and stood next to her. "How about I get you that chicken pie, and then we can pick something sweet to take home. Starting a fire and sittin’ on the couch with a tea and doughnut sounds bloody brilliant." He walked over to where the hot food was kept and read over the names of the different pies.

She followed him over easily, sighing softly. “I think that sounds good. Sittin’ down n’ jus’ relaxin’ a little bit with a sounds good. M’ getting’ real… crampy.” She hums softly, and peers at the pies. She reads over the descriptions, and locates the one with chicken and mushrooms in it that he had mentioned prior. She lightly taps the glass above them. “Here they are. They do look really good, and smell just ‘s goo- ah…” Her fingers fist gently in his shirt sleeve, and she frowns. It’s not as strong as the others, but the fact that there’s another one so shortly after the last is… concerning. She’s had several today. Skylar takes a moment to count up how many she’s had, and it’s definitely a lot, including this one. “… Yeah, getting home sounds real good.”

“Hello! Is there anything we can get for you today?” The lady behind the counter is cheery and friendly, and gives them both a bright, warm smile.

Hamish was watching Skylar with such mounting concern that for a moment he almost didn't notice when the lady was talking to them. "Oh… Uh, hello. We'll take two of the chicken and mushroom please." He said, pulling his wallet out and handing her $20 over the counter. "Come on Sky, lets sit you down at a table.” He said, holding her arms and guiding her over to one of the tables. He swallowed. "How many… how many contractions has this been?" He asked, his voice soft. Could this be it, could this be the beginning of the real deal?

Skylar let herself be guided over to the tables while the lady behind the counter began to get their pies ready. She eased down into one of the seats designed for waiting, and gave him a faintly nervous look. Was this happening? They had joked about it but... Could it be? They weren't home, and it was early, but two weeks wasn't bad... "Ah... This was the third one since leaving the store. I've had... Maybe three others before that?" She swallowed slightly, and took a calming breath to let herself relax. If it was time, then it was time.  They would deal with it was it happened. "So... Six or seven. Ah... Quite... Quite a few. So it might not get a good idea 't walk around th' stores."

Hamish pressed a kiss against her forehead. "We’re going to have a nice lunch, and then we're going to go straight home.” He said firmly. “I'll call the midwife now and ask her to meet us out at the house just in case, okay?"

Skylar nods. "I'd... Like that." She agrees. "Calling her might be a good idea." She wasn't sure if this was it, but... Honestly, one couldn't be too careful. She gives him a lopsided smile, and nudges his chair out for him with her foot, for when he's ready to sit down. "Let 'er know they're irregular but feel close together. I don't​ wear a watch, so I ain't really been able t' time them." Since she was bound to be asking those questions, Skylar figured she'd just give him the answers now.

Hamish nodded and pulled his phone out, dialing the number and pressing the phone to his head.

The lady behind the counter had placed the two pies on their own plates, and then set those plates onto a tray so Hamish would be able to carry them back to the table. He thanked her and sandwiched his phone between his head and shoulder so he could use both hands. The midwife answered on the third ring. "Hi!" Hamish said as he set the tray down on their table. "Uh, were not 100% sure yet, but Skylar has had maybe… seven or eight braxton hicks contractions over the last short while… and we're starting to think it's possible they might be the real deal." He was quiet for a moment listening to her talk. "Yeah they're irregular but often. We're in town right now having lunch, but we're going straight home after this. We were wondering if you'd be okay with meeting us out there?" He was quiet again, picking up his fork. "Thank you so much, we'll see you there." He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket, and then grinned at Skylar.

Skylar was quiet as she listened to him talk to the midwife, and offered him a grin in turn when he grinned at her. She collected her fork and her pie, her bones not bothered by the heat all that much as she slid it closer to her. "We'll see her when we get back." She nods. "Good thing we got all o' the stuff we needed yeah? Though if lil' miss Bella shows up today, it might be a moot point." They'd use everything eventually, so it didn't really matter. She lightly forked a bite of pie into her mouth as she massaged her middle with her other hand.

Hamish used his fork to push the top of the pie off and began eating the meat out of it like the pastry was a bowl. "It's exciting… we might get to see her soon."

"Yup." She agrees lightly, and nibbles her bite. Its good, very good, and she enjoys it quite a lot. "Are ya okay?" Skylar asks, glancing up to him slowly. "I know ya were real anxious about... Well, stuff happening with us away from th' house."

He looked up at Skylar, realizing in that moment that he had been bouncing his leg under the table, something his only did when something was making him feel stressed or anxious. He swallowed his mouthful and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. We're going to head straight home, meet the midwife… and maybe have ourselves a baby? I- I'm great, really excited...” A small bead of sweat build up on his forehead.

"Ya leg is bouncing, Haz. I can hear ya heel clickin' on th' floor." She reached out her leg and rubbed her ankle gently against his leg. She hummed soothingly to him and gave him a reassuring smile between quickly finishing her pie. She did want to linger too long. "Its okay t' be afraid. Just... Take a deep breath, Haz. Its gonna be alright. If we have a baby today, we have a baby today. It takes time t' have one though, specially for th' first one. We're okay."

He nodded and finished eating the meat out of the pie then picked up the pastry and took a bite, he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, pulling out another $20 note. He passed it over to Skylar. "Do you wanna pick something sweet while I finish this. I just want a doughnut or something...something with Chocolate frosting, I'm not too fussy.”

Skylar took the twenty and nodded. She finished her pie before he did, and then carefully levered herself out of her chair to go pick their sweet treats. "I'll get ya something good, I promise." She smiled and nodded. She eased her way back over to the counter, and kneaded a hand into her back as she waited for the lady behind the counter to wander over.

Once she did, Skylar gave her a bright smile and nodded to the donuts. "Can I get two of your donuts with the chocolate frosting please? And one with the cherry filling." Hamish was stressing enough that a little extra chocolate wouldn’t hurt him any.

The lady behind the counter nodded and got them boxed up for her. Once the donuts were boxed, Skylar traded the twenty for them, and rocked her hips slightly as she waited for her change.

Once that was handed over, Skylar balanced the box of treats on her belly with one hand and turned around to face Hamish, returning to their table to see how he was doing with his pie.

When Skylar returned, Hamish was finishing off the last bite of his pie. He stood up and dusted any crumbs off his shirt then wiped his hand over his mouth and beard to remove any crumbs that had been caught in there as well. He took the box from her and rubbed his hand against her back and walked her back outside.

She tucked his change back into his pocket so he could fuss with getting it into his wallet later, and smiled slightly as he stole the box from her. “Y’know, I don’t mind carryin’ th’ box, Haz.” All the same, she cuddled into him as they walked, linking an arm loosely around his waist.

He shook his head. "Nope, you're doing enough right now, if I could I'd be carrying you to the truck." He laughed.

Skylar snorts a laugh that is entirely un-lady like. “Sweetheart, if ya leg was fully healthy, I sure wouldn’t mind it. If ya even could, tha’ is. Pretty sure it’d take a crane t’ move me now.” She jokes lightly, and bumps his shoulder with hers. The horned cowgirl keeps the same slow pace as before, and time seems to crawl as she makes her slow way back, trying not to exhaust herself too badly. Pregnancy and stamina were not two words that went together in a descriptive sentence, unless the word ‘not’ was included somewhere with them.

Hamish pulled his keys out as they walked. The walk was slow, and he kept his eye on Skylar as they walked. When they finally reached the truck Hamish walked Skylar over to her side and unlocked the truck, helping her into the seat. He checked the shopping, and then got into his side and started the truck. He leaned back to check his rear view as he backed out onto the road, and then he shifted the truck into drive then started down the road towards home.

Skylar managed to make it back to the truck and into the truck before another contraction hit. However, it hit as they were going down the street in town, Hamish making his way through traffic. She turned and burrowed her face into his shoulder with a soft sound, grunting quietly. “S’ another one.” She informs him, massaging her fingers into her belly as she shifts awkwardly. It doesn’t feel pleasant- but it’s not the worst feeling in the world while sitting down. Walking is much worse. “Mmmghmm… Wouldn’t be so bad ‘f lil’ miss Bella wasn’t nailin’ me in th’ ribs any time they happen.” She tuts with quiet affection.

Hamish took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on Skylar’s stomach and began to recite one of the storybooks he would often read to Bella, making sure he spoke slightly louder so Bella would hear him over the sound of the truck.

Her stomach was hard under his hand, though Bella’s legs still flailed under the tense surface. Any time she kicked hard, Skylar would grimace a bit, but she didn’t make a peep, content to let Hamish ‘read’ to her the books he practically had memorized by now. As the contraction faded and her skin softened, their daughter’s kicking began to ease some, as if she’d tuckered herself out with her little fit. Skylar nuzzled her head to his shoulder with a quiet sound, and shuffled her feet. They ached, and keeping them down wasn’t helping, but she didn’t want to sit on them. She’d wait until they were home, and prop them up in Hamish’s lap on the couch or something.

He smiled, feeling his daughters flutter of movements calm under his palm, knowing she was listening to him made his soul swell with joy.

Skylar rests her fingers alongside his, and exhales softly against his shoulder. “At least it’s only an hour’s drive home, yeah?”

Hamish nodded. "Just a nice short trip." He turned onto the main road leading out of town. And slowly eased the truck into a faster speed to meet the speed limit, he kept one hand on Skylar’s belly and continued to talk to their daughter, hoping it would help keep her settled, maybe ease her into a nap.

Skylar closed her sockets and simply listened to him talk, trying to ease Bella into a nap. Their tuckered out daughter was having none of it, and continually nailed her in the ribs in bursts of activity on the way home. Skylar contracted twice on the drive home, the first one less painful than the second. The second one was just as they were getting home, and was painful more in her back than in her belly. She had cramps all along her spine from being in the same position for most of the ride.

However, as they pulled up, she peeked her sockets open and spotted a car in their driveway. “Mmm…? ‘S that the midwife?”

Hamish nodded. "Must be, no one else really comes out my way." He pulled the truck up and parked, helping Skylar out.

Skylar kicked her boots lightly in the dirt and stretched her back with a quiet nod. “Mmm, tha’s true. ‘S not my family, either. Ain’t the truck.” That said, she turned and scooted around him, going to undo the tarp and help him carry in groceries. The faster they got all of their shopping items in, the quicker they could get the midwife settled and Skylar could kick her boots off and relax a bit with Hamish.

"Ah!" Hamish said swatting her hands away. "I'll do it. I don't wanna be an ass, I'm sure you can help even if you aren’t in labor… but please babe, it will make me feel better if you just go lay down." He pouted, nudging his forehead against her head.

She had been about to argue that she could very well help haul groceries, and get them both inside faster- but the nudge of his forehead to hers took the wind out of her sails. She loved when he did that- that and nuzzling his skull to her horns, like he had a pair of his own- and it always took away any irritability she might have had, or any stubbornness she might be feeling. It was unfair, really. Super, super unfair.

Skylar’s cheeks puffed stubbornly for a moment, before she sighed and visibly deflated from insisting on helping. “Alright. Alright. But ya be careful, a’right? No totin’ in all th’ bags on one arm just t’ prove a point, n’ throwin’ out ya back like last time.” She did reach into the truck to snag the box of donuts, and sticks her tongue out at him lightly. “I’ll take these in so they don’ get squished. If ya need help, holler, alright?” She hefts her purse and the donuts, and makes a slow waddle for the house.

Hamish smiled at his victory and stole a quick kiss before turning to the truck and untying the tarp. He grabbed as many bags as he could carry without hurting himself, which was about a quarter of the bags, before he waddled to the door. The added weight of the bags as well as his walking boot making it a little awkward, and making him nearly mimic his soon to be wife’s walk.

He made his way inside and dumped them on the floor near the door. The mid wife was indeed there, he gave her a warm smile. "Hello, I'm sorry for being rude, I'm just going to bring this shopping in, and then I'll say a proper hello." He ducked back outside and brought in another quarter of the bags.

Skylar had made it to the to the house by the time Hamish had speed-waddled his way to the door, and she hid a soft ‘snrk’ at seeing him move. She supposed that was how she looked now, with Bella sitting like a bowling ball in her pelvis. She ducked inside once he’d vacated, and propped the door open for him with one of the bags, before offering the midwife a faint smile while massaging a hand into her lower back. “Ah, hi. Welcome t’ our home- would ya like me t’ show ya to th’ guest room while Hamish gets those in?”

The midwife smiled kindly. "That would be lovely, then I would like to check you over, sweetie. See if we're dealing with the real thing here."

“That’d be great.” She smiles at her warmly. “M’ gonna feel real silly ‘f it’s jus’ a false alarm.” She rubs her belly lightly, and then steps around the midwife, before scooting carefully down the hall. She makes for the guest room once she’s sure she’s following, and then carefully eases the door open. “This ‘s th’ room. S’ yours for as long as you’re stayin’ with us.” She quirks a faint smile to her. “Hopefully ‘s to ya likin’?”

The midwife smiled. "Don't worry honey. It's perfectly fine to be concerned even if it is just a false alarm." She said, placing her bag down on the end of the bed. "I'm all yours sweetheart. I'll be here a long as you feel you need me to be." She said, “Now...I want to check to see if you're dilated at all, so I want you to find a place to lay down that makes you feel most comfortable. It's going to be a little awkward but you're going to have to remove your pants for me."

“Ah… that is a little awkward, but most o’ motherhood has been a series of awkward n’ silly incidents so far. What’s one more thing, right?” Skylar gives the midwife a lopsided smile and nods. “Ah… Probably m’ bedroom. Livin’ room ‘s runnin’ th’ risk o’ flashin’ Haz, n’ I don’ want him t’ drop anything breakable ‘f he ain’t expectin’ it.” Skylar motions for her to follow, and then waddles for the bedroom. She kneads her fingers lightly against her lower back, and sucks in a soft breath, before opening the door and stepping inside. Their bed is in good shape- she’d made it this morning, and their room is clean, so there’s nothing to really consider it messy.

Skylar shifts to the bed, and slips her fingers down the edge of her waistband. She eases to the edge of the bed once she’s gotten her pants down off of her hips, and then carefully shimmies them down off her legs. She’s just in her underpants now. She hums, and strips those off too, after a moment, and then carefully eases herself back. Skylar makes a slight face.  “Ah… Layin’ back on th’ bed ‘s definitely not helpin’ th’ back cramps. Ah… ‘s this alright?”

The midwife smiled sympathetically. "Would you like me to prop your back up with some pillows maybe? Here sweetheart.” The Midwife moved around and gathered the pillows, helping to stuff them behind Skylar’s back to prop her up into a more reclining sitting position to help take the weight of her stomach off her spine.

She moved back around and pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of a small little medpack she wore on her hip. She pulled them on, and then moved between Skylar's legs. "I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable sweetheart." She said before easing her fingers inside Skylar, wriggling them in to find her cervix. She was quiet for a moment, concentrating, the then slowly eased her fingers back out and smiled. "You're defiantly 1cm dilated, but that doesn't necessarily mean you're in labor. It is very common for a women this close to the due date to be dilated at 1cm when the baby has dropped like Bella has. She is right down there and she is going to be very slowly trying to ease her way down more. What I want you to do, is go about the rest of your night the best you can, just stay relaxed, have a nice warm bath maybe? I brought some essential oils with me, you can have Hamish rub them into your back. They might help sooth some of your pain. We're going to leave it for the rest of the night, and then check again tomorrow. If you have become more dilated, then we can start to consider the possibility of you being in labor. If you haven't progressed by tomorrow, we will continue to keep an eye on everything, but it will most likely mean that unfortunately it was just a false alarm." She explained.

She really was an awesome midwife, explaining everything very easily and clearly. Skylar nodded once she’d finished speaking, and carefully hefted herself up. It had been a little uncomfortable, but not honestly that bad. “One centimeter then… A’right.” She nods quietly. She’d explain that to Hamish then, when she got her pants back on. Or… hmm, probably shorts. Shorts sounded good. “I was thinking o’ relaxing a little bit on the couch until m’ ankles n’ feet stop hurting,” She admits. “But a bath after sounds good.” She slides her panties back on, and goes to fetch a loose pair of shorts, slipping those on over top. “Thank you.” Skylar gives her an earnest smile once she’s fully dressed again. “S’ good t’ know these things. If it’s jus’ a false alarm, ‘s not a big deal. Bella’s a lil’ turd sometimes- I wouldn’t put it past her t’ give us a false one.”

That said, Skylar gives her a smile, and exits the bedroom. She pauses before heading for the couch, and turns to give the midwife a smile. “Go ahead n’ make yourself comfortable here, yeah? M’ gonna go settle down a bit before I gotta go fiddle with ideas for dinner.” That said, Skylar slipped into the living room, and eased her way onto the couch, and then carefully propped her feet up on one of the pillows while she waited for Hamish.

The midwife pulled the rubber gloves off and rolled them up, disposing of them in the trash can. "You let me know if there is anything you need me to do honey." She said before moving back to the guest room.

Hamish waddled back inside with the last lot of bags and pushed the door shut. He spotted Skylar on the couch and happily stepped over the shopping bags to press happy kisses against her face. "Do you want anything, beautiful?"

The kisses prompt soft giggles from her as she leans up to kiss him properly. "Other than you," she winks playfully, "I think I'm okay. According to the midwife, I'm about one centimeter dilated, which 's normal considering Bella's dropped." She hummed softly. "It might be a false alarm though, if I don' progress."

He couldn't hide the slight pout. He was really hoping this would be the real deal. He kissed her again then moved to put their shopping away so it wasn't blocking the front door. It took him a while, shifting the bags from the front door to the kitchen then putting away everything they bought into the correct places. He kept an eye on her all the while, however. "You think you're going to be a’right if I go out and give the animals their dinner early…? If this is the real deal, I want to make sure the animals are all good so I can focus on you."

Skylar had shifted on the couch so she could watch him, making it not really a secret that she was ogling his backside and shoulders as he bent over to grab things, or stretched up to put them away. She half lidded her sockets at him, lashes partially shading the blue glow of her eye lights. Bedroom eyes were fun like that. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. M’ not goin’ nowhere, and m’ not really alone in the house now, am I? But I’d definitely like for ya t’ be here with me, real deal or not. Ya make me feel safe n’ comfortable.” She gives him a warm, loving smile. “I might start dinner while you’re out. Mmm… maybe.” She wiggles her feet with a soft sigh. “Might just let my legs rest a bit. Give Mel a rub for me, will ya please? She’s probably been missin’ me. I hope she hasn’t been too much of a handful.”

Hamish laughed. "Forgot to tell you, she stole my hat the other day. Think she knows I've done something to you. She pulled it off my head and ran off with in when I was trying to refill their water." He closed the fridge, having finished putting everything away finally.

“Oh dear. I’m glad ya got it back- ya look mighty cute in ya lil’ corky hat, Haz.” She laughed softly. “Well, I ain’t been out t’ th’ barn as much t’ visit her. She’s probably worried, poor thing.” She contemplates getting up to go with him, and the thought visibly passes across her face. “Maybe I should go check up on her n’ let her know ya ain’t stole me away or somethin’.”

Hamish frowned. "Are you going to be okay doin’ that?" He had already denied Skylar doing things today, he didn't want to be an ass in general. He smiled instead. "Hey, how about I help you out to go see Mel, then we can make dinner together and after, I'll give your feet a rub?" He suggested, hoping his deal sounded good to her.

She lifted a brow at him, before nodding softly. “Tha’ sounds good.” She smiles slightly. “I’d like t’ see her, n’ give her a lil’ attention. Maybe she’ll be a lil’ less o’ a pill for ya, y’know?” Skylar sighs to herself, and carefully swings her legs off the couch. She hefts herself up using the arm, grimacing at her sore feet. She doesn’t bother with her boots- instead she shuffles into her flip-flops, and gives him a lopsided smile. “Mmm, speakin’ o’ rubs, apparently th’ nice midwife brought some oils tha’ we can use n’ rub into m’ back t’ help with some o’ th’ pain. Maybe we can use some o’ those tonight before bed?”

Hamish stood at Skylar's side, ready to help her or be her support if she needed it. He slipped into his boots, then took hold of her hand as they walked outside, He didn't know if Skylar's suggestion of using the oils was suppose to be as suggestive as she made it sound, but Hamish couldn't stop the slight shade his cheeks turned. He nodded. "If it makes you feel good, I'd do anything."

The reddish tinge to his cheeks made her grin slowly, and she kept pace with him easily enough as she chuckled softly. She rubbed her fingers along his as they made their way down the steps and towards the barn, her flip-flops making faint noises along the way. “Sounds like you’ve already got an idea in mind.” She wiggles a brow at him lightly. “I wouldn’t mind tha’ idea. We do have a guest though. We’d have t’ be super, super quiet.” She teases gingerly.

Now Hamish's cheeks were really flushed. "A-are you sure?" He did have to admit he really liked the sound of what Skylar was suggesting now and he had read somewhere that sex could help induce labor… so maybe it would be worth trying. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the cheeky smile that was quickly spreading across his face.

He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it, and she elbowed him lightly with a grin. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure, sweetheart. I want ya touch- but,” she hums, “gotta wait until tonight.”

The barn was warm, as usual, and Mel was at her stall gate. She spotted Skylar as she came in the door, and her ears perked as she called to her. Her white face stretched out the gate, and she shoved her face towards them eagerly. However, she made an obvious face at Hamish.

Skylar giggled. “I think you’re on her shit list, sweetheart. There’s my Mel!” She slipped from Hamish’s side, and went to her mare. She took her face in her hands and nuzzled her gently as the mare made happy whuffling sounds against her chest as she snuffled her belly. “Have ya been bein’ a pill for Hamish? I heard ya stole his hat, ya lil’ booger.”

Hamish hauled up the bucket of feed and began making sure the horses had enough food and water for the night. He pulled a blanket over Charlie to keep his old bones warm. He left Skylar with Mel and went to give the chickens their grain. He returned to the barn and leaned against Mel’s gate. "Do you think she would know… like, be able to sense if you where in labor?" He asked.

Skylar had spent the time he was doing chores just loving on and rubbing on her mare, and giving her all the attention that she needs.

The mare grunted when Hamish came back, and lifted her head away from Skylar. She pinned her ears at him, and snorted at him, until Skylar stole her attention back with gentle touches and rubs to her chin.

“Maybe.” Skylar laughed. “Guard ya hat, by the way. She’s eyeballing ya with mischief in mind.” She rubbed Mel’s ears as the mare nosed her belly. “I’ve heard stories o’ animals knowin’ when someone’s in labor. I dunno though. I suppose we can watch th’ dogs n’ the other critters.”

Hamish chuckled and placed a hand on his hat. He gave Mel a playful pout. "What's wrong Mel… Am I a pooper? What did I do huh?" He chuckled. "You'll forgive me when you get to meet Bella." He said, he gave Mel a firm pat on the neck.

The mare flicked an ear at him and knickered against Skylar’s belly. She lipped at her shirt slightly, nosed her gently, and then pulled back to wiggle her lip at Hamish. He got a show of her lovely teeth- yes, she’d forgive him later, but for now, he was on her shit list.

Skylar laughed and pulled back, giving her one more pat before smiling at Hamish. She paused, and rubbed her middle with a soft sound as it twitched and throbbed sorely. “Mmm… Lets go back in, yeah?”

Hamish nodded. "I just have to feed the dogs but their food is in the house." He said, wrapping his arms around Skylar's middle as they walked back out towards the house. "What should we do for dinner?" He asked clicking his tongue in thought. His dogs ran around from the back of the house their tails wagging happily as they sniffed at Hamish and Skylar's ankles.

“Heya, fluffy pups.” She smiled at the dogs, and patted their heads gently with one hand. She leaned into Hamish a little bit as they headed for the stairs, and tried not to step on them as they shadowed their heels. “I dunno what we should do for dinner.” She hummed. “I don’t really have a taste for anything… I’m thinking… maybe… I dunno… Somethin’ easy? I’d say steak, but then we’d have t’ thaw it, n’ I dunno ‘f I wanna wait for it t’ thaw.” She shrugs quietly. “Maybe just some noodles or somethin’ tha’ doesn’t take too long t’ make. Ah… Hold on, please.” She paused on the stairs and simply held onto him for a moment. “S’ another one. ‘S not so bad when m’ not movin’. I jus’… Hold still.” She nuzzled his shoulder with a soft sound. “Mmm… So… Noodles and… Gravy? Or… Something…?”

Hamish chuckled. "We can do noodles." He held her on the stairs, the dogs jumping up the stairs and laying down on the dog beds Hamish had set up on the veranda, their tails wagging as they watched the couple.

She wiggled her fingers at the dogs, but clung to Hamish until her middle eased up. Once it softened under his hand, she exhaled softly, and nodded. “Noodles sound good. Maybe a veggie on th’ side. Broccoli a’right?” She hums, and resumes walking. She opens the door for them, and then kicks her flip-flops off, before humming to herself. “Mm… You feed th’ dogs, n’ I’ll get th’ noodles started, alright?”

Hamish helped her inside, and then made his was to the laundry where he kept the dog food. He opened the dry food and carried it outside, he made the dogs wait while he filled their bowl. "Okay." he said and both dogs got up and started eating.

He moved back inside and put the dog food away, and then washed his hands. He walked back into the kitchen. He pulled broccoli out of the fridge along with a clove of garlic. "I was looking it up and apparently if you fry up the broccoli and then add garlic, it's suppose to be pretty good."

“Broccoli n’ garlic? Well, tha’ sounds real good.” She nods. She slides a pot of water over to him, and goes to get a bag of broccoli out, along with a couple cloves of garlic. “A’right. I’ll do th’ broccoli n’ the garlic. Mm… Might jus’ make it a stir fry. Add up some onion, n’ maybe some peppers?”

"Instead of a sauce on the noodles we could just put the stir fry on top. There is some chicken in the fridge we could fry off in there too?" He suggested, going to the fridge and pulling out the other ingredients Skylar had listed off. He loved cooking with her. She was an amazing cook, and helping her in the kitchen meant he learnt too.

“Chicken would work.” She nods. She hums, and taps her finger lightly on the stove top, before going to fetch the bottle of teriyaki from one of the cupboards. Next she stoops down to fetch the pan for frying it up. “Might as well make it a teriyaki stir fry and go th’ whole nine yards, yeah?” She gives him a lopsided smile and sets the pan on the stove.

A splash of teriyaki is added, along with a pinch of sweetener, before she starts to cut up ingredients and add them to the pan. “Mmm, y’know one thing folks always do with Terriyaki? They jus’ use it straight. Gotta add a lil’ bit o’ sugar or sweetener to it, or it’s too tart.”

Hamish smiled and pulled out a chopping board and began cutting the chicken into strips. He wrapped up the remaining bits he didn't use with plastic wrap and put it back in the fridge, and then washed his hands again. He stood behind Skylar and watched their dinner coming together, he wrapped his arms around her and smiled, pressing kisses against her neck.

She leaned against him and relaxed her body into his hand. She tilted her head forward against his kisses as she worked on getting everything chopped up, and soon she had it all cut up. She tossed it into the pot, and then added the chicken to it as well- before turning it onto medium to begin to heat. That done, she could relax and rest against him with a soft sigh. “Mm…” She linked her fingers with his, and rubbed the backs of his hands. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

He trailed his hands down over her belly, his mouth still attacking her neck with kisses. "I love you." He purred.

“I love ya too.” She smiled, and sighed as his hands wandered over her belly. His whiskers tickled over her neck, and she smiled contently. Bella fluttered under his fingers, a far cry calmer than she had been while they had been out and about. “Bella does too. Mm… I’m so excited t’ meet her, Haz…” She sighs softly. “I jus’ don’ know what t’ do with myself, honestly. I just… I wanna hold her already, n’ see her lil’ face… I wonder if she’s gonna have your ectobody color, mine, or a mix…”

He let out a happy sigh. "It doesn't matter, she's going to be beautiful no matter what." He whispered. Feeling his daughter under his hands made him chuckled. "I hope you're crawling your way down in there, missy."

“She sure feels like she is.” She chuckles. “She’s sittin’ real heavy inside o’ me. ‘S kinda like a bowling ball in m’ pelvis. It ain’t much fun, lemme tell ya that.” She chortles good-naturedly. The frying pan starts to slowly sizzle, and she stirs it with an idle hand, while keeping an eye on the pot of water which was set to boil. “I’d much rather have somethin’ else in m’ pelvis, if ya catch m’ drift.” She cocks her head back over her shoulder to give him a wink, and then grins.

Hamish's cheeks warmed. He pressed his face into Skylar's shoulder. "Mhnn~ Sky." His stomach tightened in that familiar feeling of arousal from her words, his hands slipped down to hold her hips. He pulled them back against him slightly at the same time pressing his hips forward to make sure she would feel him against her. He let out a puff of breath.

She could feel him twitch against her backside, and couldn’t stop the smug grin crawling up her face. She leaned back into his grasp, and gently rolled her pelvis against his member. Two could play at that game- and Skylar did so like to tease her man. “Lil’ eager, aren’t we?” Her voice dropped an octave, taking on a slightly huskier timbre. “Would you like t’ be buried in me, Haz? T’ hilt yourself in me, ravish me until we’re both too tired t’ go on~?” She gives him a coy look over her shoulder again, eye sockets half lidded and lashes framing the warm blue glow of her eye lights. “I think I’d like that too.”

Hamish groaned, rocking his hips against Skylar. He loved when she spoke to him like this; it made him practically crave her. On any other occasion he would have pulled himself free of his pants to rub himself against Skylar, but the sound of the guest room door opening reminded him that he had to behave.

The midwife walked into the kitchen with a kind smile. "Mm, it smells very good out here." She commented. She looked between Hamish and Skylar and giggled. "You're a very sweet couple. I love working with couples who are very intimate, everything is just, so much more beautiful."

Being caught pretty much grinding in the kitchen made her feel like a silly teenager again, and Skylar flushed a bright, bright blue. “Ah, well, thank ya. Just kinda throwin’ somethin’ t’gether for a stir fry. And, ah, yeah.” She offers a lopsided smile as best she can with Hamish wrapped around her as he is. Probably trying to will away the problem she might have given him, that she could feel against her backside. “We’re… pretty active.” She flushes brighter. “I’ve read that’s ‘s not always th’ case with some couples expectin’ a baby though, so I can understand what ya mean there. Haz n’ I are… well, pretty good in that regard, I think.”

She didn’t think her body bothered him like other mother’s bodies did to some other men. She certainly hadn’t caught him yanking it to porn, or turning to other women instead of her- and she certainly hadn’t needed to, not with the attention he gave her. They had a slightly non-typical relationship in that regard- but it was a healthy one, Skylar was very sure of that.

Hamish's face flushed. He couldn't hide his smile though, He still held Skylar's hips, swaying with her slightly. "I want to be a good partner in everything we do together. I don't want to make assumptions, but I sorta always got the impression that younger couples just...don't appreciate love as much, to them their life is still so young. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are many young couples who are grateful for what love gives them. But...I've probably lived over half my life already, and I'm only finally getting to start a family I've wanted since I was as young, and most of the younger couples already having kids. I just want to be everything Skylar needs me to be and more."

“Ya already are, Haz.” She smiles gently and rubs his hands as he sways with her. She eventually just turns back to cooking, and lets him sway with her, all the while enjoying the touch she’s given and glad he’s not pulling away like some guys might have. “You’re gonna get lots o’ kids.” She smiles to him. “Well, once lil’ miss Bella decides t’ finally vacate th’ premises, an’ I get healed up a lil’ beforehand.”

Hamish snorted and the midwife laughed at the humor. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy my service enough to call me back to help you with any other beautiful children you two decide to have. So far you've been such a nice couple to work with. I really respect couples that want to homebirth and bond as a couple and with their children through doing the birth naturally and as a family."

“I like th’ idea o’ havin’ my kids at home.” Skylar smiled to her. “My Ma’ had me at home. She had my brothers at th’ hospital, but they were very, very premature. Complications an’ th’ like, or she’d have had them at home too. Never have been real fond o’ hospitals, t’ be honest with ya. M’ alright for a lil’ bit, but too long makes me nervous” Bella gave her a firm kick, and she grunted, before laughing. “Lil’ miss Bella agrees, I think. She jus’ nailed me a good one.”

Hamish chuckled and pressed his forehead against the back of Skylar's skull, nuzzling it as if he had horns. It had become a slight habit he had picked up from Skylar; he knew it was a very affectionate gesture and it made his soul flutter when she responded so positively to such a simple little thing.

Her demeanor seemed to brighten, lighting up as he nuzzled the back of her skull. Skylar did indeed love it when he did such little things- she loved the little quirks he picked up from her. A lot of them for her were instinctive affectionate gestures, so to get them in return were always little things that brightened her day. She paused in cooking to turn, and angle her skull to rub her horn gently along his temple, giving him a pleased and loving rumble in turn, before she went back to what she was doing.

As the water for the noodles began to boil, she fetched the package with her hand and dumped them in, setting the timer and setting a spoon across the top to keep it from bubbling over. The stir fry was sizzling hot, and everything was starting to soften. She added a tad more teriyaki, and then added in some soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce for some added flavor. It didn’t do much but add a little bit of bite to the sweet- and usually made it taste better, oddly enough.

Skylar shifted, angling her belly away from the popping of the stir fry so she didn’t get burned.

Hamish shifted, gently moving Skylar to his side. "Let me do it." He said, stirring the sauces so it coated the vegetable and chicken so they would soak it all up and become filled with flavors.

The midwife smiled, knowing she currently wasn't needed, she wondered off easily finding their laundry she began sorting through the darks and lights so she would be able to put a load on for them.

Skylar watched the midwife head down to the laundry room and made a mental note to thank her later. Once they were alone, she smiled, and slipped her hand into Hamish’s front pockets as she settled behind him with her belly pressed lightly into the curve of his back, safely away from the popping of the stir fry. She lightly rubbed his thighs from within his pockets. “Ya silly overprotective Aussie. I was a’right cookin’ th’ stir fry. But okay. I get to enjoy teasin’ ya while ya do th’ cookin’.”

She was at just the right height to kiss and nibble gently along his shoulder, nudging his hat up a little with her horns so she could get at him better.

Hamish swallowed. He glanced down at the hands tucked into his pockets, his excitement from before still hadn't settled completely and her hands in his pockets only cause it to twitch wanting the attention her hands hinted to give. He pulled his eyes back to the stir fry, pushing the veggies around with the wooden spoon while he enjoyed the feeling of her teeth on his shoulder.

Skylar gave him a smooth grin and her hands slid closer together in his pockets. Slowly, her fingers stroked him from either side, touching the heat of his length that was restrained by his pants. She closed her mouth on the back of his shoulder, and sucked gently, leaving a faint mark, before nibbling up along the back of his neck. Skylar had no issue being a distraction- cowgirls were often the wiliest of girls to choose to try and tame for one’s wife. “Too bad ya gonna have t’ wait until after dinner for th’ full treatment, eh? When we can retreat t’ our room, n’ shut the door, n’ we can take care o’ each other properly~” She purred against the side of his skull.

Hamish's eyes fluttered as his length attempted to push out against the fabric of his jeans. He sucked in a breath to hold back the noise he wanted to make. Damn she was a tease, but at the same time he loved it when she got him pent up and left him to wait with the thoughts of what she had planned running through his head until they could actually act on those thoughts…

Skylar grinned. She kept one hand in his pocket, while the other slid out and up, sliding against the slightly pudgy slope of his belly. He’d filled out between her feeding him proper nutritional meals- and, well, him helping her with built up pressure problems. Her fingers rubbed along his lower belly, before wiggling under the tight band of his jeans, and into his boxers. She’d wash her hands before dinner- but… for now.

She gave him a firm stroke downwards, fingers massaging him in time with the gentle nips and nibbles along his neck and shoulders. She rumbled pleasantly to him, breasts pressing into his back as she angled her torso to better reach him.

Hamish let out a strangled noise, one hand gripping the bench top, the other hand tightening around the wooden spoon. His breath hitched and sweat beaded on his forehead. He would have been all for her getting him off while he finished cooking had the midwife not been here to walk out at any moment. He let out a breath in an attempt to calm himself slightly. He shifted to try and get a look at Skylar, but couldn't see much more than her horns.

Skylar shifted as she spotted him moving, and hooked her chin gently over his shoulder. She pressed soft kisses along his cheek as her hand worked his cock, stroking and teasing him playfully. When he was hard against her hand, she gave him one more stroke, and then slid her hand out of his pants, and kissed along his skull. “Can’t have ya gettin’ too excited now, can we? Heh. Ya got t’ get through dinner, n’ then we can go t’ the bedroom. But there… Mmm,” she purrs against him, “There, ya can have somethin’ better than m’ hand.”

She leans around him far enough to kiss him, and then waddles to the sink to scrub up. She had been handling things- and then his dick- and there was no need to not be sanitary.

Hamish let out a long but happy sigh. He tipped his head to watch Skylar watching her hands and laughed through his nose. He put the wooden spoon down and stretched out the waistband of his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers to shift his hardened member to a position that would be more comfortable and less noticeable. He pulled a strainer out of the drawer and set it inside the sink when Skylar had finished washing her hands. He carried the pot of noodles and poured it out, straining the noodles of water.

While he tended to the noodles, she checked over the stir fry, and then slid it carefully off of the burner now that it was done. She reached over to turn off the burner, and then beamed at Hamish. “Stir fry’s done.” She chirps innocently, and gives him a warm smile. She could see that he’d adjusted himself- which wasn’t a bad thing. Less noticeable that way, and since they had a guest, it was definitely a good thing. “I’ll go set the table, if ya want t’ dish up three plates for us.”

He nodded and pulled out three plates and dished up the noodles then added the stir fry over the top. He carried it over to the table. He took a breath then walked to the laundry room, sticking his head around the corner. "Dinner is done."

The midwife had just finished putting the laundry on for them. She straightened and dusted off her hands. “Oh? Alright. I’ll be right there.” She smiled to him. “Let me just wash up with the sink in here.”

Skylar got the table set with silverware, and got drinks set out. She got herself a glass of milk. Teriyaki liked to give her heartburn out the Wahoo for some reason, but milk usually helped. While she waited for Hamish and the midwife, she eased down into her usual chair, and sighed pleasantly. Her ankles still hurt to high hell, but at least sitting was nice and comfortable.

She sipped at her glass of milk, and hummed contently.

Hamish returned and joined Skylar at the table, the food smelt amazing but he waited for the midwife to join them to be polite. He slid his feet along the floor and gently brushed them against Skylar's swollen feet. "How're you feeling?" He asked, his eyes glancing down to where her stomach would be if it wasn't hidden by the table.

"Sore." She answers him quietly, rubbing her swollen feet against his own. She shudders a soft sigh, and then smiles faintly. "Bella has calmed down some so she isn't kicking me right now, which is nice. I'm ready t' prop my feet up for a lil' bit though and let the swelling go down a little bit."

The midwife came back out and took her seat at the table. "Ah, it smells amazing. Good job cooking, the both of you."

Hamish chuckled. "She's probably taking a nap." He smiled. Hamish smiled at the midwife as she sat down. "Thank you." He picked up his fork once she had sat down and he began eating, humming happily at the flavors. He glanced across the table at Skylar with adoration. Her cooking was amazing as always.

The adoring glance made her flush, and she chuckled gently, before setting into her own meal. “Haz, my love, I dunno how ya made it as long as ya did without eatin’ decent meals.” She tells him honestly as she sets into her meal with ease. Sharp teeth make short work of any vegetables with surprising ease, despite being carnivorous teeth. “Oh well. Ya got me now- ya gonna have good meals for th’ rest o’ ya life.”

The midwife giggles slightly and starts her own meal. “Oh! I quite agree. Your cooking really is something indeed, Miss Skylar. It’s very, very good. So you’re self taught?”

Skylar nods lightly and smiles. “Mhm. My Ma’ taught me th’ basics, n’ how t’ make some things, but for th’ most part, I learn as I go. Haz ‘s learnin’ a lot when he cooks with me.”

He chuckled. "I actually feel like I can look after myself properly." he spooned more food into his mouth, brushing his feet against Skylar's.

She brushed her feet gently against his as well, smiling to herself as she slid her toes gently up his pant leg to rub them against his shin. “Which ‘s good,” she smiles, “I like knowin’ tha’ you’re gonna be able t’ look after yourself.” Should anything happen to her, that was. She had no plans on it- but if it did, he needed basic skills. Getting by eating canned foods for the rest of his life was not the way to do it. She hummed, spooning up another bite, and rubbed her middle with her free hand. “Particularly,” she continues slightly, “’F you n’ Ava are gonna be fixin’ up an’ expanding th’ house while me n’ Bella stay with Lola.” Or stayed wherever. “Ain’t gonna be able t’ make it up every day t’ bring ya lunch.”

Hamish chuckled. "And I assume we can't survive on beers alone?" He was joking of course. Mostly joking.

Skylar chuckles with him, but gives him a lopsided smirk after, her eyes glimmering with mischievous promise. “If I have t’ pitch a tent up here t’ cook for th’ both o’ you n’ make sure you’re eating properly, I will. That ain’t no threat- tha’s a promise.”

The midwife laughs into her drink. “I’m inclined to believe you.”

Hamish let out a laugh and shook his head. "I'll make sure we're eating good, even if I have to call you and have you talk me through how to do things." There was a long while before any of that would happen, but thinking about extending their house, making rooms for more little bodies to accommodate. His parents would be proud of him.

“Good.” She beams. She continues to eat, until her stomach says it’s full, and then sets her fork down. She’d eaten a good chunk of her plate, but not all of it. She leans back a little bit in her seat and rubs her middle with a soft sound, sighing gently. Bella shifts, and her little feet press up into her ribs as she seems to sleepily stretch. Skylar taps the top of her belly where her little feet are pressing, and then smiles as her feet curl up again. “M’ gonna miss bein’ pregnant jus’ a lil’ bit. Not gonna miss bein’ this big though.” She chortles. “Hopin’ our next baby ‘s a lil’ smaller. She’s supposed t’ be like… eight pounds, or somethin’, accordin’ t’ the last visit we had at th’ doctors.” Which was a while back. She was healthy, and going continuously was kinda pointless at later stages. “Might be bigger.”

“Oh yeah?” She tilts her head slightly. “She’s going to be a big baby then.” The midwife smiles.

Hamish chuckled. "That's my girl, big and strong. Sorry she's beating you up in there though."

“She’s actually not for once.” Skylar laughed. “She jus’ stretched. She ain’t got much more room though, n’ she’s tryin’ t’ take more than what I’ve got.”

"At least she's calmed down and is giving you a bit of a break." He said. Hamish finished off the last of his food then looked down at Skylar's plate. "Do you think you're going to eat anymore?"

“Nope.” She shook her head, and slid her plate towards him. “Ya want th’ rest, sweetheart? M’ full. Ya gave me a lot.” She chuckles. Not really- he gave her the usual amount he usually did- but her appetite fluctuated. Sometimes she ate a lot, sometimes a little- it all depended on what Bella was doing and how Skylar’s body was reacting to it.

"Yes please." He said happily, lifting the plate over to his side and digging in.

The midwife finished off her food and smiled. "Is there anything you'd like me to do for you?" She offered. "I don't want you to feel like you're paying me just to sit around in your home, if there is anything you'd like me to do please don't feel afraid to ask me."

Skylar simply smiles at her fiancé and chuckles, patting his thigh under the table. She fed him good, that was for sure. The midwife however had her humming quietly. “Well…” She shuffles a little in her seat and scrubs her cheek. “I’ve been meaning t’ mop th’ floors an’ clean th’ bathroom, since we wanted t’ use the tub possibly for Bella, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Bendin’ over an’ whatnot.” She waves a hand at herself. “If… you want to, maybe you could start there? I don’ mind helpin’ if ya wanna wait until tomorrow, but m’ a bit worn out from t’day.”

The midwife smiled widely. "I can do that for you, don't worry. You just focus of trying to help Bella move down and staying relaxed."

Hamish finished off what was on Skylar’s plate then stood up, collecting the plates and taking them to the sink. He put any leftovers into a container for tomorrow then started on washing the dishes, rinsing off each plate before putting it into the dishwasher.

Skylar chuckled gently and nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled slightly. “Haz n’ I are gonna probably retreat t’ th’ bedroom for a lil’ while. You mentioned ya had some oils…? Would ya mind terribly much ‘f we used them? M’ gonna see ‘f I can heckle Hamish into givin’ me a back rub. ‘S gonna be a lot o’ work.” She teases lightly- because obviously it’s not going to be much work at all.

The midwife gave Skylar a knowing wink, knowing he could hear them but had his back to them. "I'll get you those oils sweetheart." She walked off too her room, coming back. "They have little droppers,” she said, opening the lid to show Skylar, “you don't need much, maybe four drops just into the palm of your hand. You need to use the different oils one at the time, just keep massaging it in until your body absorbs it then you can use the next one. There is one for back pains, this one you rub on your belly, this one if you rub it in your lower back and the underside of your belly closet to the pelvic bone. It’s suppose to help relax your muscles and help you open up to let your baby move down." She explained. "And this last one can help with swelling so if you can convince him to rub your feet too, you should feel a lot better.”

“I think I can convince him.” She grins slowly, and glances at Hamish out of the corner of her eye. Her grin grows wider. “Thank you.” She tells her earnestly, and gingerly takes the oils. She balances the box on her middle once she stands up. “We’ll probably see ya a little later t’night- if we don’t end up falling asleep.” She chuckles softly.

The midwife smiled and nods, taking herself away to give them their privacy.

Hamish finished up with the dishes and turned to Skylar. His cheeks tinted slightly.

Skylar wiggles the box at him playfully and grins slightly. “A’right, sweetheart. C’mon.” She crooks a finger at him, and makes an attempt to saunter to the bedroom. “Don’t wanna keep ya wife waitin’, do ya~?”

Hamish dried his hands off on a dishcloth then eagerly followed after Skylar. Catching up to her, he undid his jeans and kicked them off, more for comfort reasons than anything. He wanted to take his time with Skylar, use each oil on her and make her feel good before they really got down to it.

Skylar shuffled her shorts off carefully, setting the box of oils on the bed before closing the door behind Hamish. It gave them a little bit of privacy, after all. Her shirt was next to follow once they had privacy, and she gave Hamish a soft smile as she bared her middle to him slowly, taking her time to undo the buttons. She had a small smattering of stretch marks along her navel, curving up from the bottom of her belly towards her belly button, but otherwise she seemed to have gotten away without getting a large amount of them despite her size.

Her eyes flicked down to his member, which she had teased and gotten hard before they had sat down to eat. She gave him a tender smile. "Do ya want me t' take care o' that for ya first~? Or do ya think ya can hold out through some rubbing first?"

He smiled, he gently patted the spot on the bed in front of him. "I want to use the oils first." He said, his eyes wandering over Skylar’s body. His member twitched in his underwear, enjoying the view Skylar was giving him.

"Oils it is." She gives him a warm smile, and eases onto the bed. Her panties are still on, but they can move those when they need to. For the moment, Skylar eases herself carefully onto her hands and knees, and offers him a warm look over her shoulders. "Where would ya like t' start with me, sweetheart? M' all yours." If he was going to do the rubbing, then he could choose where he would start. Or so she was thinking.

He swallowed and leaned in, pressing a kiss against her shoulders. "I'll start with your back." He whispered, holding his hand out to accept the oil that would help with her back pains.

She fished it out of the box for him and passed it back, before humming thoughtfully. She couldn’t lay on her stomach- so she was going to just have to relax on her hands and knees for him. She folded her arms, leaving her rump in the air and back stretched out. "Alright. Mmm... This position feels good too. 'S stretching things I didn't know needed stretching."

Hamish moved behind her, his hips pressing against her rump. He opened the little bottle and put four drops into his palm like the midwife had said. He closed the bottle and put it back in the box before rubbing his hands together, and then pressing them into Skylar’s back, massaging the tight knots in her muscles. As he massaged her back, he rocked his hips gently against her rump, his cheeks warming.

She slyly rocked her hips back against him, her backside pressing against and cradling his member as she hummed softly. As his hands set into massaging her though, the hum changed into a moan, rolling out from her throat as her back bowed under his hands. "Oh~ oh yes... Mmm..." The knots were thick, but his hands were warm an firm and felt so, so good...

Hamish's length responded instantly to Skylar’s noises, hardening against her. He ignored his wants for now to give Skylar the attention her back needed, kneading his fingers against her flesh.

She could feel him hardening against her, and grinned to herself. He would be good and ready for when they were ready then. She rocked against him slowly, making soft, responsive noises as his hands worked her over and massaged her back. The knots were beginning to soften though, and she could feel the pain in her back beginning to ease the more that his hands worked over her flesh.

He smiled down at her, watching his hands work and the way the soft light of her ectoflesh lit his bones. "You're so beautiful." He breathed.

"And you're so handsome. We fit together real well, sweetheart." She still blushed a lovely blue hue, and glanced at him with a soft smile. The glow of her body against his bones was beautiful indeed- but his glow over her was equally lovely. She loves to be bathed in he reddish-brown hue, to see their color mix together. Her back softened further under his hands, and she was helpless under him. Pleased moans escaped her throat, and her back went more and more slack with each passing minute.

He chuckled at her response. The oils seemed to have soaked into her flesh and left behind a pleasing scent. He sat back on his knees and began to stack their pillows up again as a back support for Skylar. "Lay here babe." He said softly before leaning over and picking out the oil to put over her belly.

She nodded and carefully rolled over. She eased back onto the stack of pillows, adjusting only one of them to a better position, before nestling down. The angle kept her belly from squishing her lungs. Opening her legs for him to crawl between, Skylar crossed her arms gently under her breasts and relaxed, enjoying the lack of pain in her back for once. "Mmm... This good?"

Hamish smiled and wriggled himself between her thighs. He dropped the oil into his palm, and then smoothed it over his belly, paying attention to her stretch marks, massaging his hands gently against the swell of her belly.

Her belly was soft and supple, and her middle flexed and rolled under his palms. At some points where he pressed in, he would feel the curve of Bella's back as she rested in Skylar's belly. She was resting, and didn't seem bothered by Skylar getting massaged. Skylar relaxed more, a soft sigh escaping her. "Mmm... Gonna have t' invest in oils for th' next time we have a baby. This s' real nice. Can also use m' if ya pull somethin' out workin'. Mmm..."

He chuckled and rubbed his thumbs in small circles on Skylar’s lower belly. It was still early, so Bella would be napping until it was time for him to read to her, however he had a feeling their planned activities might spoil her nap.

They definitely would be spoiling her nap, but Bella would deal. Well, they would make it up to her when it came time for stories. Skylar felt her eyes fluttering closed, a blissed sound leaving her. "Mmm... I love you," she murmurs to him warmly, her muscles twitching and relaxing under his hands.

Hamish leaned forward and pressed his lips against Skylar's, rocking his hips against hers as he continued to rub her belly.

She angled her hips to accommodate his, and met his kiss warmly. Her lip prongs worked softly against his mouth as he rubbed and massaged her belly. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, and she massaged them gently, fingers working over his bones firmly but gently.

Hamish groaned against her mouth. He could feel that the oil had soaked into her flesh so he dragged himself off her and shuffled back, massaging her thighs and slowly moving down her legs until he got to her feet, he sat back on his knees and placed her feet in his lap, he got he next oil and put a get drops in his palm, lifting one foot up slightly and pressing his thumbs into the base of her foot then rubbing in circles.

She let out a soft pained hiss at first, flinching at his initial touch- but the flinch eased off after a few moments as the pain eased some. "Mmm..." Her toes flexed, splaying slightly as he worked over the tender bones and ectoflesh along her feet. "That feels.. So nice..." She murmured softly. "You have such nice hands, Haz. Mmm..."

Hamish grinned and worked his hands against her foot, applying pressure in the center of her foot then pressing his thumbs out, spreading the pressure under this thumbs through the rest of her foot.

She groaned, her toes splaying under the motion of his hand. Her other foot arched against his leg, toes kneading gently at his belly. Skylar is the epitome of relaxation as she practically melts under his touch. "Oh... Oh yes... Mm... Can go a lil' more firm 'f ya want t' do so. Mm..."

Hamish chuckled and pressed his thumbs firmly into the ball of her foot. His cock twitched in his boxers at the way she moaned at his touches.

She grinned at him slowly, and brushed her toes gently against his hidden cock, teasing him gently. Her eyes were half lidded, soft moans pulling forth from her throat the more he rubbed. "Mmm..."

Hamish breath hitched and he looked down at Skylar’s foot, his cheeks instantly turning red.

She slowly stroked him, in time with he strokes of his fingers on her other foot. "Oh," she purrs, "am I distractin' ya, sweetheart?"

He lifted his eyes to Skylar’s. "Shit sky." He breathed out. He turned his head and kissed Skylark ankle.

Skylar practically purred at him as he pressed a kiss to her ankle. The sensitive bones tingled slightly against his whiskers, and she brushed her toes lightly against his jawline. "Ooooh, I think I am distractin' ya." She grins. He might have only gotten one foot massaged, but that was fine. She was getting a warm, tingling feeling in her lower belly. Arousal warmed her, and she rubbed his length with her free toes again, aroused mischief rolling through her eyes.

"D-do you want me to do… your other foot?" He asked. He didn't want to stop the attention her foot was giving him through his boxers but if her foot was sore than he would take care of that for her.

"Hmmm... Maybe later," she purred. Her toes splayed a little to better stroke him, and worked from the top of this length down to the bottom. She teased her toes over his balls too. "What I think I want now, sweetheart... 'S you." She purrs, bedroom eyes cast upon him. "Think ya ready for that? Or do I need t' rub a lil' bit more~?"

He was drooling, he was sure of it. He wanted to focus on her and making her feel good, be couldn't help wanting to indulge himself slightly.

He shifted back and moved the box of oils onto their dresser. He opened the top drawer and dug through it, picking out his favorite pair of Skylar’s socks. He sat back on the bed and helped slip them on over her feet. His cheeks burnt with the heat; he almost felt like a teenager that was doing something he shouldn't have been. He got the socks on her and then shifted, pushing his boxers off and kicking them onto the floor. He bit his tongue and shifted back over the Skylar, his member fully hardened but gravity had it curved over slightly to the left.

"Leaning to th' left today," she purrs appreciatively, giving him an almost hungry look. God, he was a beautiful man. She shifted in her pillow mound, and lifted her foot, trailing the sock covered end of her toes up and over his thighs, teasingly close to his hardened cock. She purred up at him softly, and pillowed her skull in her palm with a cheeky grin. "So... Tell me what ya want, Haz~" she purrs. Did he want to bury himself in her? Or did he want her to use her socks on him? She wouldn't complain to either. His bliss was sure to be grand either way.

Hamish didn't usually trip over his words, but when Skylar was like this with him, he couldn't help it. "I… uh- I want you to." He looked away, embarrassed. "I want you to use your feet." He wheezed

She loved making him tongue-tied. He was endearingly adorable when he stumbled over his words. Skylar grinned to him and stroked her foot across his dick, spreading her toes and using the sock to cup him firmly. She stroked him gently, bending her leg and flexing her ankle to bring her foot into the position that she needed it to be in. "I think I can do that for ya," she purrs. Her other leg rubs at his thigh, and trails teasingly across his hips. "Remember, I ain't ever gonna judge ya, Haz. I love ya." She slides her foot down to tease his balls. "N' I'll do anything for ya."

Hamish's eyes lidded, his eye lights dimming slightly in lust as he watched Skylars feet on him, he trusts his hips forward slightly against her socked foot. "Ah- love you. Mhm! So much."

"I love ya too," she purred, rocking her feet gently against his hips. She brought her other foot up as he thrust his hips forwards, and cradled his cock between her feet, letting him thrust between them. She stretched her toes and let them tease his sack when he was close enough and rubbed them up and down his shaft. "My good lil' cowboy~ I love ya a whole lot."

Hamish had experimented with masturbation a lot with all the years he had been alone, and he had his own little collection of toys tucked away where Skylar had yet to find them. None of that compared with the real deal though. Skylar made him feel good in every way.

He pulled his hips back, having worked himself up enough that he would have cum before getting to the really good part. He leaned forward and kissed Skylar, reaching down to slip her underwear off. He shuffled between her legs then paused. "Ah-should I use a condom?"

Skylar would have let him cum if he had desired it- but she met his kiss and lifted her hips to help him divest her of her panties. When he slid between her legs, she rolled her hips up, knowing she was going to have to scrunch if they wanted to do this face to face- which she most certainly would have liked to. His question made her pause, and then she shook her head. "No. Mucus plug 's still in place, so... You're good t' go, sweetheart. Go ahead n' saddle up bareback."

He grinned widely and wriggled up as close to Skylar as he could get, rubbing himself against her folds. "Are you going to be comfortable like this?"

"Mmm... Hands n' knees would be better." She responds almost grudgingly. "Wish I could see ya face though... Oh well. We still got time after Bella, yeah? I jus' want ya in me. I don't really mind either way." Being scrunched was not comfortable in the slightest, but she would have made due. Hands and knees would admittedly be easier. She just missed being able to hold him close and nibble him while they made love. Ah, the joys of being a land whale.

"Could you lay on your side?" He suggested. He wanted to be able to cuddle and kiss but if it meant she was uncomfortable her comfort mattered more.

"Mmm, that could work." She shifted, and carefully rolled onto her left side, where Bella would rest easier. She moved the pillows and motioned for Hamish to come closer. "Mmm, yes, this will work~"

Hamish moved close to Skylar , rubbing himself against her. He leaned over and captured her lips in a kiss as he began to ease himself in, taking it slow incase today made her sore.

She lifted her leg and hooked it gently over his hips as she kissed him. Her mouth moved against him, fingers holding him as close as the pregnant swell of her belly would allow. As he began to ease into her, Skylar shuddered eagerly and rocked her hips gently. Her walls trembled around him, tight and warm as he eased his way inside. She was sore- but not too bad.

It always felt incredible to Hamish, being this close to Skylar, feeling her around him, loving him, becoming one with him. He eased in further, sinking inside her inch by inch.

She rocked her hips gently as he worked his way in, rolling her pelvis against him as he worked his way inside of her. She was tight, with the weight of Bella pressing down inside of her, and each flutter of her walls massaged and sucked at his hard member as he eased his way in. She kissed him again and again, mouth fluttering against him as she stroked her hands up and down his back. Her mouth kissed own and nibbled along his jaw line.

Hamish moaned into Skylar's mouth as he pushed half way in then eased back out before pushing back in sinking inside fully. He smooched Skylar almost messily, kisses purely of lust and love for her. He thrust into her slowly, wanting to to make their sex passionate, for it to be real, intimate love making.

The slow thrusts were amazingly good. She was sensitive, and every slide of his cock felt amazing, like lightning bolting through her pelvis. She trembled against him, meeting his sloppy, passionate kisses with gentle, loving ones of her own. Skylar was helpless under his touch, and she guided one of his hands up to palm her breast, giving him permission to play with the extremely sensitive globes to his souls content. She wanted against him, walls fluttering and clutching at him needily. "Mmm~"

Hamish groaned and rolled her breast in his hand, shifting so he could continue his slow thrust while also being able to flick his tongue over her nipple. He moaned against her breast, pressing himself in and out of her.

She couldn't help arching against him as his tongue flicked over her nipple, prompting it to bead with milk as her walls clenched around him and a pleased gasp slid from her throat. She rocked her hips into him, intentionally fluttering and flexing her walls as she did so. She panted, clutching at him with her hands as heat pooled and made her belly tense up.

Hamish chuckled deeply and kissed the nipple he had been giving attention, He moved back up and nuzzled his forehead against Skylar's horns as he pressed into her.

She nuzzled her skull to his, eyes opening to peer at him tenderly. Her eye lights were bright with desire and love for him as she rocked her hips against his and worked her body the best she could given her condition. Her breathing hitched slowly, coming out shaky.

He smiled at her, trailing kisses down her neck, he latched on, kissing and sucking on one spot, drawing a bright mark on he shoulder.

She tilted her head back as he latched on and began to suck on her neck. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was up to- be was making his mark on her. She gave a soft and low moan, feeling the heat in her belly building as his mouth worked he neck and his member worked her insides. She fluttered around him faster and faster- until she came with a soft cry hat she tried to muffle with her hand, so they didn't disturb their guest. Her walls clenched tight around him, orgasm rippling through her, and she was helpless to do anything but cling to him as she rode it out.

Hamish groaned feeling her clench around him to the point here he almost couldn't continue thrusting. He moved and began working on another mark on her shoulder, his hips still moving slightly his own orgasm building quickly, feeling Skylar's orgasm surrounding him. He grunted and jerked his hips forward, his cum spilling inside Skylar.

She shivered against him pleasantly, soft puffs of air escaping her mouth. Her middle twitched and flexed between them, still lost in the spasms of her pleasure. She snuggled her face as close as she could get, leaving him buried deep within her, and cuddled right on up to her fiancé. "Mmm~"

He rested slightly against Skylar, the new roundness of his own belly pressing against Skylar's as he caught his breath, he chuckled feeling Bella begin to stir and press out against him. "What was that Bella?" He laughed. "Daddy's sorry, did we wake you up?"

Bella stretched and kicked, little limbs flailing fussily at Hamish and Skylar. Skylar simply smiled and rubbed her middle gently, eyes closing slowly. "Mmm... She's real fussy now. Pretty sure we all her with our activities." She hummed slightly and laughed softly.

Hamish leaned down and kissed Skylar again before gently easing out of her. He reached for the tissue box on his bedside and pilled out a tissue, using it to wipe the inside of her thighs clean so they wouldn't become sticky and uncomfortable. He bit his lip hard, watching a dribble of the mess he had made inside her drip out from her folds. He enjoyed the view, satisfied and proud of himself for having filled her, before wiping it away with the tissue.

"Is it story time beautiful?" He cooed to Skylar's belly watching as the flesh shifted. It looked almost like an alien was ready to burst out, but it was instead his daughter, alive and possibly grumpy at him.

"I think she thinks so." She laughs a little breathlessly, having shifted her legs so he'd have an easier time cleaning her. He was the most caring man, honestly. He didn’t have to clean her up- but he did, because he loved her. He was so sweet. Skylar smiled and shifted, rolling just a little bit to get more comfortable. "Need th' book, or jus' wanna recite one o' them tonight?"

Hamish shifted off the bed and pulled back the covers, he padded over to their dresser and picked out the book Bella seemed to like best, he crawled back into bed and snuggled up to Skylar's belly, rubbing his hand over his squirming daughter. He opened the book and began to read.

As he began to read, Bella began to slowly settle. By the time he was half way through the story, she had gone still again, and seemed to be relaxing. Likewise, Skylar seemed to be doing the same, sockets drifting shut as she listened to him read to their daughter and just quietly breathed. She had that post orgasm snuggly feeling, but also tiredness setting in. It was an odd mix of feelings.

Hamish finished the book and closed it, sitting it on his dresser. He turned off his lap casting the room into darkness, he snuggled up to Skylar. His body still felt warm and slightly tingly in the best way possible. He rested his head against Skylar's and let his eyelids grow heavy.

Her own were starting to close fully, so she simply shut them and snuggled close to Hamish, angling her torso so that it would lay against his and not between them. It let her press closer to him, and snuggle him firmly. She let out a sleepy sigh, and sighed.

She supposed even if it was a false alarm, they had a good night, and they would be ready for whenever Bella decided to come...

Hamish wrapped his arms around her tightly, letting himself fall asleep along side his fiancé and daughter.

Skylar woke up to the sun shining in through the window, and to the feeling of being a little chilled. It was little wonder- they had fallen asleep without blankets on, and though they were huddled together, the air was still nippy. Skylar sighed sleepily and nuzzled her chilled horns against Hamish, trying to warm her face up with a sleepy sound.

The chill of Skylar's horns stirred Hamish, he groaned and turned his face into his pillow, lifting his hand, grabbing Skylar's horn, tugging it gently.

She snorted at the tug, puffing warm air over his bones. She wiggled her head with sleepy playfulness, dragging his hand on her horn with her movement, and nudged him with the cool flat of her other horn, before kissing his shoulder gently.(edited)

His brows pushed together, he rolled onto his stomach trying to hide from Skylar, it didn't really help when he was stark naked and they had no blanket over them.

Rolling onto his stomach just left the rest of him open for sleepy pestering. She yawned and rolled onto her hands and knees, before leaning down and stretching her back. This casually let her run her horns over top of his lower back, the cold keratin running across the flesh the mattress itself had helped to keep warm. Her mouth pressed soft kisses to his love-handles.

He groaned but the noise of discomfort quickly turned into a muffled laugh. He turned his head and lifted it slightly to look over his shoulder at Skylar. "It's too early." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"The sun is up, Bella is kickin', so I too am up. I'm also cold. We forgot th' blankets." She tickles her horns along his back again and then shifts to lay down a d cuddle up to him again. Her feet are still sock covered, so they're fairly warm. Her hands are chilly though as they slip into places cold hands shouldn't be, his easily chilled wife to be leeching warmth from him like a heat vampire.

"NNNHSKY!" He complained as her cold fingers danced over his bones. He rolled over onto his back and looked at her his eyes squinting through the sunlight that streamed into their room, he pushed himself up and grabbed their blanket and dragged it up over them. He leaned down and attacked her neck with kisses then suddenly paused, biting his lip and running his fingers lightly over her shoulder.

His loud fuss had her laughing, giggles keeping her entertained even as he grabbed their blanket off the end of the bed and covered them with it. It felt good and warm on her chilled bones- but she was still at his mercy as his mouth lay siege to her neck. "Ah! Haz!" She squeaks a laugh. When he stops and fingers her neck lightly, she giggles up at him in befuddled curiosity. "Whaaacha doin'?"

His face flushed and his lip quirked up at he touched the bright Hickey's. "I marked you." He whispered to her, leaning down to kiss the slightly bruised flesh.

The bruises were a bit tender, but in a good way. She tilted her head back as he leaned down to kiss them, and Skylar couldn't stop the small grin that grew on her face. "So ya did. Guess that means ya don't need sharp teeth t' mark me, does it? Everyone 's gonna know m' yours."

He made a low, rumbling, pleased sound in his chest. He lent up to kiss Skylar properly before he sighed and pushed himself out of bed, tucking the blankets around Skylar so she looked like a pregnant burrito. He opened his dresser and found a fresh pair of jeans, he pulled them up, and did them up... tried to do them up, couldn't do them up. He made a defeated sound that turned into a laugh. He looked at Skylar. "Is this what it felt like for you when you stopped fitting in your jeans?" He asked, giving it one more attempt at trying to button his jeans but they just weren't having it.

The pregnant burrito on the bed laughed, wiggling her head out enough to peer at him. "Yup. 'Cept mine was a baby-baby, not a food-baby. Ya lil' muffin top is real cute~" she winks at him, blue eyes glimmering at him from inside the folds of the blanket. "Heh. 'S kinda ironic. You did this t' me, n' I did that t' you. Looks like we need t' get you some new pants, sweetheart."

"Awh, these where my favorite pair too." He huffed, folding them and putting them back picking a pair that had a stretchier waist and trying those instead.

Now she really, really began to laugh, making herself resemble a chortling pregnant burrito. "I outgrew my favorite pair jus' after our first ultrasound. 'F it bothers ya that much, we can put ya on a diet?"

He looked up at Skylar. "And miss out on all your good food? No way." He pulled a different pair on pants which fit better this time.

Skylar snickered. "Not so much missin' out as... Portion control?" She flails some out of the burrito, but he has her fairly stuck. "Not sayin' ya can't have it, ya just gotta limit how much ya have. Also, can ya help, please? I gotta pee real bad and I can't get up."

He turned and grinned then leaned over to kiss her before unwrapping her from the blanket and helping her up.

Skylar laughed gently and kissed him back. Once she was on her feet, her bladder was practically screaming at her- and she almost went to waddle out the door in the nude, before she remembered that they had a guest. She paused, and snagged one of her longer shirts to slip on, shimmying impatiently as she fumbled to do up the buttons. “Forgot we have Elaine here- don’ wanna flash her.”

Once she had a shirt on that would cover most of her though, she scooted out into the main room, socks sliding a little on the hard floor, and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She was quick to relieve herself, taking note that everything looked cleaner, before scooting out of the bathroom and into the main part of the house again.

Hamish pulled a jumper on over himself and walked out into the lounge. He pulled his boots on and stepped outside; there was a chill this morning and the fog sat low.

He walked out to the barn, the horses snorting at him. He opened the gate that lead out into their paddock, and then walked back opening Charlie's gate first. he took off, trotting eagerly out to get at the dewy grass. Next was Mel, who pinned her ears at him and then joined Charlie, his other two mares followed shortly after, nickering happily.

He shut the gates and then walked around to check for eggs.

Elaine was outside, hanging the laundry she had done last night.

"Good morning." Hamish said.

Elaine turned to him. "Oh good morning. Is Skylar awake too? She can take her time of course but I would like to check to see if she has progressed at all."

Hamish opened the chicken coup and checked the nesting boxes. "I'll let her know you want to check up on her." He said, collecting the eggs. Six today.

Skylar paused when she noticed the house was empty, and then scampered to go get panties and some shorts on. She shimmied into them, leaving her in a slightly rumpled ‘housewife’ sort of look, and then scooted to the door, curious to see where their house guest was.

She slipped her boots on, and made her way outside, rubbing her cheek with a slight yawn as she did so. She hadn’t expected to see Elaine out and about doing laundry so early- but she supposed it probably wasn’t as early as she thought. “G’morning!” She calls, waving to the midwife from the front porch as she leans down a little to rub one of the dogs ears.

Elaine turned and smiled. "Oh good morning sweetheart, how are you feeling?" She asked.

Hamish shuffled out of the chicken coup using his boot to keep the Chiclets from getting out.

“I feel good.” Skylar smiles to her. “Th’ oils worked wonders, really. Thank ya for lettin’ us use ‘m. My back hasn’t felt this good since before I was pregnant.” She chuckles softly. She continues, however, and gives her a lopsided smile. “I had only one contraction last night though. At least, only one tha’ I could feel.” She rubs her belly gently.

Elaine picked up the basket of washing and carried it inside. "Are you okay to see if I check your dilation again?"

“I don’t mind, no.” Skylar shook her head quietly, and followed her in, leaving Hamish to finish up with the animals outside. She’d taken a moment to wash up in the bathroom, so her activities with Hamish shouldn’t be too visible. She heads for the couch this time, no desire to go flop on her bed just yet. She shimmies out of her shorts while Elaine puts the washed clothes up, and gets herself situated for the midwife to take a peek at her.

Elaine gets herself a fresh pair of rubber gloves and pulls them on. She gets between Skylar’s legs and eases her fingers inside, wriggling then slightly to get as deep as she can. She's quiet as she concentrates. She pulled her hand back and takes off the glove. "You're still just 1 cm. I can safely say that this has just been a false alarm. If this were labor you would have at lease been at a 3 by now. Bella is ready, she wants to meet you both, but she just hasn't worked out how to get herself down where she needs to be yet."

Skylar sighs gently and nods. "Alright. I can't say I didn't expect it... But alright." She rubs her belly and hums gently, before standing and fixing her shorts. She gives Elaine a smile. "Thank you. I guess we're just playing th' waiting game with Bella now. Well, she still has two weeks before she technically has 'n eviction notice, eh?"

Elaine nodded. "She is right there, if you had dilated a little bit more I probably would have been able to feel her. She just needs to decide when she is ready."

That made Skylar brighten a little bit. "Well, we'll be ready for when she does decide t' come down. I suppose I should go tell Hamish that it was a false alarm."

Elaine smiled. "He sounded awfully worried when he called me the first time, he Is nervous about this baby, if it is okay with the both of you I'm more than happy to stick around and help until the birth, I won't charge any extra." She offered.

Skylar shook her head. "We'd love t' have ya, but we don't mind paying for ya time, sweetheart." She gives her a smile. "He is real worried. He had a nightmare a couple weeks back, n' it was a doozy. It made him real paranoid about loosin' me n' Bella. It's also his first time around little ones. I helped raise my brothers, so I've got that goin' for me, but Haz 's new at this." She shifts where she stands and rubs her middle. "He's also a perpetual worrywart. I'll go let him know 's a false alarm though. Again, thank ya. Its gonna be a lot o' help with ya here. I still gotta get stuff ready for the wedding alongside Bella. Havin' an extra set o' hands will be nice."

As if on queue Hamish pushed open the door carrying the eggs to put them in the fridge. "How's my girl doing?" He asked, grinning wide.

"Doin' alright." She gave him a soft smile. "Elaine is gonna stay with us jus' in case, but... It was a false alarm. No change in dilation, unfortunately." She sighs and rubs her belly a bit. "She's gonna tease us a bit, it seems."

Hamish's face fell to a pout. "Oh… that's okay, she's probably just nice and warm in there." He closed the fridge and frowned into the sink for a short moment before turning and moving over the Skylar, kissing her and resting his head against hers

She gave him a smaller smile, though at faded at his frown. She sighed softly and nuzzled her head to his. "We're gonna jus' have t' wait, I guess." She murmurs softly, sighing quietly against him.

He placed his hands on her belly. "I really wanna meet her." He responded his voice soft. Elaine had excused herself to busy herself with other things.

"I do too." Her hands came to rest on his, feeling the lazy shifts of their little girl inside of her. Skylar sighs softly, a tiny frustrated sound. "We've still got two weeks until she's technically due... We just... Gotta wait... I was really hoping we'd get t' meet her t'day..."

Hamish wrapped his arms around Skylar and let out a quiet whine. He had waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

What he didn't expect was that their little Bella was so comfortable snuggled up inside Skylar that she stayed in there long past her due date.

With Elaine's help around the house, Hamish and Skylar where able to organize their wedding. Everyday closer to their wedding made Hamish even more anxious, right up until the day before their wedding when they made the trip out to Vera's farm.

In the evening, Garry from town, Avacardo, Skylar’s brothers and a few of his mates picked him up to take him out for the night- one last ‘hoorah’ to being an unwedded man. The boys had to practically drag Hamish away from Skylar’s side. He had a good night with them, but he couldn't shake the dread he continued to feel.

For the first time, Hamish begged for Bella to stay put inside Skylar’s belly.

#Bella #Hamish #Skylar #Elaine #Character Plot