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writinginfinite · 1 year

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imagine part viii

imagine: form a mental image or a concept

plot: you didn’t know what you were getting into when you turned your hobby into an actual career on f1. based on Lewis’ “imagine” tweet.

Saturday May 7, 2022

"again"

All you wanted was to wake up believing yesterday was a nightmare that you couldn’t escape the grasp of. When you finally decided to check your phone, you were reminded that it wasn’t a nightmare but a reality. The numerous missed calls and texts only added to your stress because you hated others worrying about you. All the text read about the same “Are you okay?” “Please explain what happened?” “What’s going on?” Thousands of thoughts ran through your mind reading the same messages repeatedly. There was nothing for you to explain, though. The video told it all; you couldn’t comprehend why people needed further context. If that weren’t enough, nothing you ever did would.

You scrolled through the countless missed calls and texts of those worried about you. It was time to face the music and calm the nerves of others, even if yours were through the roof. You didn’t have any energy to return phone calls because if the video weren't enough to even the ones who cared for you, nothing would do. You sat in a chair for minutes typing up a text that would be short but reassuring. You shook your head in frustration after typing up a lie. You could only hope that a lie would get everyone off your back. Almost instantly, replies were coming in. It was overwhelming, so you turned your phone on Do Not Disturb until you felt ready to talk again.

The walk through the Paddock was tense. You didn’t know if it was all in your head or if the feeling of people staring at you was happening. What caught you most by surprise were the looks from team members. You looked around, hoping to see a famous figure or just anything other than you that people were looking at. To your disappointment, there was not, only you and a few other people walking around, and they were also glancing at you. That trek toward the media center felt like hundreds of miles. "This is going to be a long weekend " was all you could think while heading towards the media center.

You could feel a sudden shift in the room as you walked in to find a seat. You couldn't tell if you imagined it, but it seemed as if everyone was further away from you than usual. And as you found your seat, it only felt worse. All the reporters’ reactions didn't surprise you; you knew the second you sent out that tweet, the dynamics would split even further. If their goal was to get under your skin, they were starting to succeed. You had to try and put it behind you because you had a job, just like everyone in that room.

Qualifying flew by, and the only shocking outcome from qualifying was the order of the top three; you expected it to be in reverse. If you could ever get to it, that was something you planned on highlighting in your post-qualifying article. Being overwhelmed affected your work. Pieces were now on the backlog, which wasn’t normal for you, and you hoped no one would notice. You watched Charles, Carlos, and Max enter the media center for their post-race qualifying interviews, but you could not care less now. You had no questions for them because you knew they’d give the same generic responses.

Get asked about Red Bull (even after qualifying first), have to praise them, then talk about your team. “They are extremely quick in straight lines. We are quick in the corners, and it will be a tight challenge tomorrow. And hopefully, we'll come back on top.” Or Carlos being asked if he’d finish behind his teammate because he’s ahead in the championship and has to say nonsense to avoid making a cheap headline. “No, the consideration is that we are teammates and that we want to score a one-two for the team independently of who is ahead or behind.” It was the same energy, just in a different country. You used that time to write about practices two and three.

You were about to publish practice two and three articles when your wrist vibrated. You looked at your watch to see Ashlyn had been calling you for the third time. You were so zoned out that you missed the first two calls. Friends and family knew not to contact you during press conferences, so you automatically assumed the worst. You quickly stood up and began heading to the nearest exit until a microphone was in your face. You hadn't realized there was a final call for questions, and your standing up made them believe you had one more. "Oh, sorry, I have nothing to ask. I have to take an important call," you apologized for the confusion.

"You hadn't looked up once since the drivers walked in. Can't wait to see what was so important," someone roared, causing the room to erupt in laughter. The words stopped you in your tracks. You looked around the room and found the person who made the statement. There were so many things you wanted to say but chose against giving them a reaction.

You just shook your head and turned to walk away, not before catching the puzzled looks of Charles and Carlos

You called Ashlyn back, worried something was wrong back home. “Are you alright? You’ve been behind on your work, and that’s not like you,” Ashlyn said after the first ring. Of course, she noticed, you thought. You explained the situation to her, and she did nothing but listen. Hours had passed in your mind, but your phone only showed two minutes on the call. "It will get better with time," Ashlyn tried reassuring you. "I am thinking so, too. Thank you for letting me vent again. I owe you. Tell everyone I love them. You too, of course. Bye."

"Wait, before you hang up, let me say one more thing," Ashlyn said quickly before you could end the call. You had a feeling where this conversation would be going.

"Yeah, go ahead," you said sheepishly.

"I only want what's best for you. Have you thought about taking a break or leaving? We miss you back home. May be right now, you're not cut out for this. I think this life is taking a toll on you. I see it, and strangers online notice the treatment. I love -"

You hastily cut Ashlyn off before she could finish. "Take a break? Not cut out for this? Do you know how hard I worked for this? If you truly knew what was best for me, you wouldn't try me talk me out of what I am doing. I can't believe you right now."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. I'm sorry; please hear me out," Ashlyn pleaded on the other end.

"Oh no, I heard you- loud and clear at that. There's no need to apologize. I listened to how you felt, so now it's your turn." You said it in the coldest tone. A voice that was unrecognizable to Ashlyn.

"I put in twice the work than anyone in that room with me. It's easy to ignore when it's strangers online or people who, from day one, have a vendetta against you. I will not allow you or anyone else to discredit my craft. But from you, I would have never thought. Have a nice life, Ashlyn. Goodbye," were the final words you said to your once best friend before the call ended. You didn't even give her time to backpedal.

You were indeed on your own. Not only did those in the media room not believe in you, but you now knew your best friend didn't either. It was as if things kept falling as the hours went by.

It took you some time to collect yourself after that call. "Did I lose my best friend?" ran through your mind as you headed back to your seat. You were grateful everyone was heading out to the media pits to get a sport before post-qualifying interviews began. You had about 10 minutes of quiet, something you desperately needed.

At that moment, you finally decided it was time to check Twitter. To finally see the aftermath of yesterday. Nothing in your mentions honestly shocked you; people love drama at the expense of others' feelings. Of course, you gained many followers, some verified news personalities who previously would never give you the time of day. You opted to check your direct messages, something you rarely did, to see if people came out of the woodwork trying to talk to you. To the surprise of no one, there had been. It reminded you it was time to do the following cleanse once things calmed down. There was one name that stuck out to you: Lewis Hamilton.

"What the hell? We both have to be following each other for you to send me a direct message," you mumbled to yourself when you opened the message. You had to make sure it was him, so you clicked on the account. It was Lewis, with his profile saying Follows you. Your head started spinning when you looked at the message. He wrote, "I know this is unexpected, but I felt the need to reach out. I've seen the video and noticed your treatment in the media. I want to check in when you have a moment. Take care of yourself, okay?"

You couldn't believe what you read. Was Lewis making time to speak with me? Was the busiest man on the Paddock is checking in on me? But it wasn't just that direct message from Lewis Hamilton; it was someone finally asking, "how were you doing?" Everyone knew how kind of person Lewis was. His constant messages of reassurance and hope he gave others shouldn't shock you, but "why me?" is all you could think of. You were typing a reply before seeing the time. You had about less than five minutes before the pit interviews started.

You stood in the media pits going through the motions. Every driver that passed meant one step closer to leaving this Paddock. You were trying your hardest to look interested and engaged, but you didn't even have the energy to ask a single question. That all changed when the final driver arrived, Lewis. He knew of yesterday's ordeal, and his tone of answering questions made everyone painfully aware.

Listening to them stumble over their questions to not rock the boat brought you a little enjoyment. Even for a few minutes, they got to experience the pressure you had been battling for months. You let out a light chuckle that no one seemed to notice.

The questioning went quickly, per usual, but this time it was different. You could tell others had questions, but the guilt ate at them. Lewis' team PR person looked around the circle and asked for final questions.

“I have a question,” Lewis said. His words caused stunned looks from his PR person and media members; it was out of the ordinary. Lewis said your name, making everyone turn to face you immediately. Your heart rate rose when Lewis said, “What are you back there smirking about? Did I say something funny?” in a joking voice while raising an eyebrow.

Attention being drawn your way caught you off guard and you couldn’t think of a verbal response. So you tilted your head a bit and gave Lewis that look that people like you two universally understood. Your face reads, “You know these people are uncomfortable, right?” You watched Lewis quickly nod, “yes.” He was aware of what he had been doing the whole time.

“I’m just joking. I hope you’re well,” Lewis said in a now calm voice. The tension in the air eased for everyone else, but that fog formed again for you. “I am, Lewis. Thank you for asking again.” A glimmer in Lewis’ eyes and a slight smirk appeared after you said, “again.” Your response reassured him you had seen his direct message. “You take care of yourself, okay.” Unlike the direct message, Lewis wasn’t asking a question but telling you. His tone was that of someone who cared and would be on the lookout for you. You looked him in the eyes, nodded your head hesitantly, then watched as he walked away. You knew he didn’t believe you, and he was right.

Once he was out of view, you headed back to the media center. A nagging feeling you couldn't shake told you to turn around, and when you did, it was to everyone watching you, murmuring something you couldn't make out. You tried replaying the last few minutes, wondering what you said that could be spun. “Damn it,” you said to yourself, realizing where you made a terrible mistake.

You were about to open the door to the media center but couldn’t face them yet. You could only pray you were overthinking the situation and it would disappear. So you decided against entering and took a walk around the track, something you hadn’t done at previous races. Miami Grand Prix was beautiful, as you saw the sun beaming on the fake marinas. You had missed that electric feeling of what being a fan brought. Not having to hold back your emotions during races because you could look biased. At this moment, you wished you could skip covering the rest of the race weekend to live in the moment, but you couldn't. Or so you thought it was.

The longer you walked, the more your nerves mellowed. You would typically share your adventures with your followers via live videos, but you were trying to stay off social media. You were not feeling conflicted. Continue to avoid social media, neglect the interactions I built over the years, or suck it up and go live. The latter felt right because your audience didn’t deserve to be forgotten because of the actions of others. So you sent out a quick tweet: “Want to walk the Miami track with me? IG live in less than 2 minutes!” purposely leaving out your handle name.

You did little talking on the live besides occasionally answering where you currently were on track. To your surprise, the comments were all going well, and you believed no one had noticed your mistake. The sun was setting, and you left your sunglasses, which became your sign to end your live. You were about to do a sign-off when you heard two voices excitedly calling your name. You turned around and greeted the two girls dressed in Mercedes hats and shirts. You did not know how to react because this was your first time being recognized. One girl showed you her phone; they were watching your live video. The interaction brought you a joy you couldn’t explain.

“Aww, this is a first. Do you guys want to say hi to people watching?” The two girls quickly waved and dropped their social media handles, which you had no problem with. Of course, the handles were creative names that incorporated Mercedes or Lewis.

“I'm not beating these Mercedes allegations” ran through your mind but you didn't care in that moment. Two strangers being happy to meet you brought you so much joy. The girls asked for a photo, another first for you. Without hesitation, you agreed, placing your phone down and taking a few selfies. They were satisfied with the pictures and were about to walk away when one girl said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you nervously agreed, praying she wouldn’t ask what you were trying to avoid. “What did you mean about ‘again’ when Lewis asked if you were doing okay?” Your heart rate rose because of what you didn't want her to ask. She did. “It was nothing. Just check in on others, that’s all,” you stammered out, hoping it would be enough to please the question. The two girls could sense your discomfort and said, “I understand. I guess the internet was reaching. Thank you again; it was a pleasure to meet you. Take care of yourself,” the girl said as they both walked away.

You tried collecting yourself before remembering you were still live. You picked up your phone and said, “Sorry about that. I hope you guys enjoyed seeing the track. Until next time.” Before exiting the live, a comment caught your eye, “I was waiting for someone to ask about her saying again!"

All you wanted was a hot shower and to sleep; grabbing your belongings from the media room was the only thing stopping you. You didn’t have the energy to be bothered by anyone in the room. As you entered, no one seemed to notice you, so you could begin packing up without problems. It felt almost too good to be true… and it was. A woman who has never spoken to you tapped you on the shoulder. So you put on a fake smile and asked the woman, “Can I help you with anything?” The woman had a devious look.

“Can we sit down for a minute? I want to talk with you.” You nervously sat down with the woman, expecting some juvenile prank to happen. “First, how are you?” the woman asked, causing you to panic immediately. Something was up, but something told you to play along. “I am okay. Do you need anything from me? I am trying to head back to my hotel.” “I was just trying to get to know you and-”

“Bullshit, I’ve been here for months, and no one has attempted that. I’ll ask you one more time, what do you need?” You hastily cut the woman off.

“Okay, few around here were wondering if you and Lewis had a thing. When we, I mean they, watched your interaction earlier and were curious. Especially with your response. I am sure you don’t and would love to put an end to it all. Everything is off of the record, by the way. Just between us two.”

“Are you serious right now? Did you hear yourself? There’s no record.” You now spoke loudly for the whole room to hear. The woman was now shushing you to lower your voice but to no avail.

“I don’t appreciate you all trying to spin stories on me. Like everyone in this room, I have a job to do. There’s nothing for me to put an end to because there’s nothing there. I thought I left high school close to a decade ago.” You wanted to say much more but couldn't get the word out. You grabbed your bags and headed for the nearest exit. As you walked towards the gate, you knew a story would be written and had to get ahead.

You found a seat and began typing up what happened in your notes, fighting back the tears.

“Let me get ahead of this before things spin. A few minutes ago, I planned on leaving the media center to head back to my hotel. A fellow reporter wanted to ask me a question. I knew something was up but hoped to be proven otherwise. This woman was polite at first until she felt the need to say everything I said would be off the record, but there was no record. The woman asked if I had some personal relationship in the Paddock, which isn’t true at all. Someone finally treated me like a human, and the reporters assumed something was up. They are trying to create more false narratives. I know I’ll type all of this; still, people will believe what they want, and I have to accept that. Treating people with kindness is all I ask.”

“I am aware of the games being played. I am here to do a job and want the same respect I give everyone else, but I don’t believe I’ll ever see it,” you tweeted with screenshots of what you just typed. You debated on turning off the replies but left them on. You had nothing to hide and wanted to let people show their true colors.

“Whatever happens, happens,” you told yourself.

It was close to one in the morning, but you couldn’t stop scrolling through your mentions. Your image was being tarnished hour by hour. So you locked your phone and relived the last few days in your head. You wanted to blame someone, but you didn't know who. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened if I had followed the norm. I wouldn't be in this situation if I had kept my mouth shut on day one. What if Lewis never spoke to me?" “Lewis,” you remembered you never responded to any of his messages. You grabbed your phone off the nightstand and went to your direct messages. He had sent a second message just minutes ago.

You typed and deleted so many responses because nothing felt right. You didn’t want to appear emotional or fragile, telling Lewis how much his words meant. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty for being his genuine self. Yes, he’s human, but he’s still a highly profiled figure in F1, a sport you loved. He raced in the morning; the last thing you wanted was for Lewis Hamilton to be worried while driving 220KPH.

You debated not responding as you’ve done to so many others, but he deserved a response this time.

“No, I should thank you. I cannot convey how much I appreciate you for asking. It means more than you’ll ever know right now. I realize I cannot control how people try to spin an encounter. Whatever happens, happens. Please don’t worry about me, Lewis. Have a nice night ... well, morning. Also, don’t you have a race to prepare for tomorrow afternoon?"

You knew Lewis meant well, but it did not prepare you for what was coming your way.

// parts

author's notes: have to proofread this again. sorry i took forever, forgive me!

word count: 3.7K

#lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #fanfic #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton fanfictions #fanfics #imagine by writinginfinte

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mothguillotine · 4 months

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IV.

Staying true to your word you showed up the next weekend and every weekend, snow being inevitably replaced by the green returning to the world. Neither you nor Sirius brought up the meeting after Christmas again, which made it obvious to you that he regretted what had happened. So you try to forget, try to stop thinking about him, but no matter how hard you try you just can’t.

On the other hand, at least the snow had melted and you could easily reach Hogsmeade. The days were longer now leaving you more time to spend at the clearing with Sirius. It hadn’t been awkward the times you visited after Christmas, but you could tell something was bothering him. Throughout the months of visiting him on the weekends, you watched as he became himself again. While still not completely put together, his overall look had improved greatly. He looked nearly completely different now, well everything except his teeth. Unfortunately, you had not found any books at the school about magical dentistry. At the bookstore in Hogsmeade, they had looked at you like you were crazy but ordered the book nonetheless. Today you finally received the book after the backlog of orders came through.

While you were still fast asleep this morning, a loud *BANG* came from your window. You shoot up out of bed grabbing your wand from the side table, you walk over to investigate. When you open the window you are pleasantly surprised to see an owl with a package.

“Sorry, buddy,” you tell him, scratching his head. To which the owl drops the package and flies away.

You cut the twine holding it together and tear open the brown paper wrapping, Dentistry: A How To. Just what you expected, the aforementioned book. You look through it, and many pages are full of diagrams of different types of teeth from wizards to werewolves. Flipping through the pages you find just what you are looking for, the ingredients and steps to make Dentiserum. Which, while a painful process, will regrow teeth. Unfortunately, the potion makes new teeth for you while pushing out your old ones. Ew. Looking at the list you realize that all of the items are going to be in Hogsmeade, making your life very easy in this regard.

So you get up for the day, putting on some clothes, brushing your teeth, dealing with your hair, and finally grabbing the book. When you leave your room, you go down the halls to the potions classroom. You peek your head in, making sure Snape isn’t in the room. In there, you steal a small cauldron and a vial, placing them in your bag with the book.

For the past few months you hadn’t really paid attention to much of the staff, save for Professor Lupin. Although you did hear that Hagrid’s hippogriff was under trial. You hated that an innocent animal was being punished for Draco’s stupidity. While you luckily had managed to avoid that little shit this year, last year he would constantly make remarks throughout your lectures. To say you had no love for him was an overstatement.

As much as you wanted him to win you knew it would be near impossible given he was going up against the Malfoy’s. And last weekend when Hagrid came back from the trial visibly upset you knew you were right. Buckbeack’s execution was set for the following Monday which is tomorrow. Hagrid's mood had significantly darkened throughout the week leading up to Monday.

Making your way back down the halls, footsteps echoing through the empty corridor, you are the only person awake enough to visit Hogsmeade at this moment. Although you suspect more people will join you given how nice of a day it was. Instead of the coat you usually wear you opt for overalls and a t-shirt. It was nice to be able to walk down the path to Hogsmeade without freezing at the end.

The sun was out now no longer being hidden by the winter storm clouds, warmth radiated through you, feeling the sun on your face. When you get to the village you are quick to visit the alchemy store, picking up each of the necessary ingredients for the potion. The shop is near the entrance so you enter quickly to get the supplies.

The shop is lined with shelves and baskets, each one labeled with the ingredients it holds. While outside the sun is bright, here it feels, dreary. Walking down the first aisle you scan the shelves for your ingredients.

“Do you need any help?” a voice asks from behind you, startling you. When you turn around you see an older woman, who is about the same height as you. Her hair is gray and cut short curling gently around her ears.

“No,” you tell her, “I think I can get everything myself, but thank you.”

“Well if you need anything,” she says, “I will be over there.”

As you continue looking through the shelves, you feel her watching you. But when you look up she is looking at a book, checking inside the register, or keeping busy. While it takes you a while to look through each of the shelves for the ingredients, around fifteen minutes, you choose not to ask her for help, getting creeped out more by the second.

“Did you find everything all right dear?” the older woman asks you at the register.

“Yeah,” you tell her, “How much is it?”

“Seventeen galleons,” she tells you with a bright smile.

You look through your bag for money, eyes landing on your wallet. Rifilliling through it, you pull out the coins and hand them to her.

“You're the new herbology professor?” she asks, “Right?”

“Uh- yeah,” you respond, confused.

“Is this for a school project?” she asks you.

“Well, no,” you tell her, “It’s more of a- personal project.”

She holds out the little sack for you, full of the ingredients, “Well I just ask because my grandson is in your class.”

“Oh, what's his name?” you ask her.

“Rodney Striker,” she says, “Every weekend he comes by and tells me that you are his favorite.”

You know very well who her grandson is. Rodney Striker was a menace in your class, most definitely one of your least favorite students. Like many Slytherins, he had made your life trouble the moment he showed up on the first day of class months ago. So to hear this made you more than surprised, the correct term being mind-boggled. It wasn’t like you would tell her that though, even if he was the biggest troublemaker in his class.

“Ah, yes,” you tell her, faking a smile, “I believe I have him in the morning, he’s never late to my class.”

“He gets his punctuality from his father’s side of the family,” she tells you laughing, laughing with her, I'll be it a bit uncomfortably. Why is she telling you all this?

“Well, I have to get going,” you tell her, “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, dear,” she tells you.

You grab the sack off the counter and leave her shop. On the street there is a few students just arriving in the village, moving quickly to the edge of the increasingly busy street to make sure you aren’t spotted. The treeline is just beyond the buildings so you make a run for it, hoping the buildings block anyone's view. Dashing past the first few trees you slow down once you know you won’t be seen anymore.

The forest is regaining the lushness it lost when it was cold. The once white-covered bare trees were now full of leaves. Green was almost completely surrounding you, with the exception of the sky, a brilliant blue. The walk down your path was pleasant, the birds chirped, rays of sunlight peak through the trees, and you picked a few flowers along the way.

Continuing through the woods, you follow the familiar path that leads to the hidden clearing where you meet with Sirius. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the sunlight dances through the foliage, creating a warm and serene atmosphere. Despite the pleasant surroundings, your mind is preoccupied with the events unfolding at Hogwarts, particularly the unjust trial of Hagrid's hippogriff.

As you approach the clearing, you see Sirius waiting patiently. His eyes light up as he sees you, and a smile plays on his lips. The magical world around you seems to dim as your attention is solely drawn to him.

“Hey,” Sirius greets you, standing up from the tree stump he was seated on.

“Hi,” you reply, a small smile forming on your face.

You hand him the sack filled with alchemical ingredients, and he glances inside with curiosity, “Working on something interesting?” he asks.

“Just a potion to help fix your teeth,” you respond, “How was your week?”

Sirius shrugs, “Same old, same old. Avoiding Dementors, contemplating life choices, you know, the usual.”

You both share a chuckle, and the atmosphere lightens. Finding a comfortable spot on the ground, you settle in for your weekly meeting. Pulling out the cauldron and grabbing the ingredients from his hand.

As you discuss your week and share anecdotes, all while stirring the ingredients together. For a moment you both stay silent, Sirius's gaze shifts to the flowers you picked on the way here, “Those are beautiful,” he comments.

“Thanks,” you say, handing him the small bouquet, “I thought they might brighten up this place a bit.”

He takes the flowers, a genuine smile on his face. “You know, you bring light into this place every time you come.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel a warmth spreading through you. The connection between you and Sirius is undeniable, and even with the unspoken tension, there's comfort in being with him.

The conversation turns serious as you share the details of Hagrid's trial and the challenges he's facing. Sirius listens attentively, his expression growing more somber. “It's not right,” he mutters, “Hagrid doesn't deserve this and neither does that innocent animal.”

“I know," you agree, "But the Malfoys have a way of manipulating things. It's going to be tough for him.”

After you finish all of the instructions in the book, you reach for the vial in your bag, pouring in the potion from the cauldron.

“For you kind sir,” you say in a faux British accent, trying to lighten the mood.

Sirius crinkles his nose, “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, shut up,” you tell him laughing, holding the vial out to him.

“You are not trying to poison me?” he asks, “Right?”

“I think that if I wanted to poison you I would have put it in the food,” you tell him, “Which I have been giving you for months. So why would I try to kill you now?”

“Just curious,” he says, “I- i was joking by the way…”

“Yeah, I know,” you tell him laughing, “Anyways, the potion is going to hurt pretty bad, you can read all about it.”

“Ahh, yes, another book,” he says.

“The pictures in that one are horrifying to look at,” you tell him, thinking about the monstrosities of diseases in that book.

You hand him the vial full of light blue liquid, “It takes a few hours to work and you will be in pain the whole time.”

He gives you a wry smile, “Well, bottoms up, I suppose.”

With a swift motion, Sirius brings the vial to his lips and drinks the potion. Almost immediately, a surge of magical energy emanates from the concoction. Sirius winces, his features contorting in discomfort. You watch with concern as the potion works its effects on him, Sirius sits on the ground next to you holding his jaw with both hands.

As the next few hours go by you try to comfort Sirius as much as you can, rubbing his back whenever he seems to be in especially bad pain. About an hour into it, the first tooth comes out, and then another, then another. At one point all of his teeth had fallen out of his mouth, and his pain seemed to let up for a bit, letting him catch his breath. After though the pain returned, teeth growing in at an alarmingly fast pace.

Another hour or so passes before Sirius has a full set of new teeth, grabbing his mirror he examines his new set of pearly whites.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaims, “You did it!”

“What can I say,” you tell him, “I suppose I am just amazing.”

“More than amazing,” he says, “You have been helping me so much, I just don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“You act like I don’t want to do this,” you tell him, “I want to help, not just because of Harry, you are innocent, I’ve believed that since the first time I met you. I want to help you.”

Sirius looks at you, a genuine gratitude in his eyes. “It means more to me than you know. Having someone believe in my innocence, it's... well, it's a rare and precious thing. You've become a beacon of light in this dark period of my life.”

You offer a reassuring smile, “You deserve to have your name cleared, Sirius.”

“Thank you for everything,” he says.

“I have to get back to the castle,” you tell him, “Next week are exams so of course all of my students are turning their papers in at the last minute.”

“You must be everyone's favorite professor,” he tells you, “All of my professors wouldn’t take any late assignments.”

“Trust me, I am not everyone's favorite professor,” you tell him, “Many of my Slytherin students do not feel the same.”

“They just don’t want to admit it because you were in Gryffindor,” he tells you, “I have said it once, and I will say it again, I wish that-”

You cut him off, “That I was your professor, yeah,” you laugh, “You’ve said it more than once.”

“We need to talk about the rat problem,” he says, “It’s almost the end of the year and Ron hasn’t brought Peter to Hagrid’s once.”

“I’ll ask him about it,” you tell him, “Maybe I can get him to go to Hagrid’s with him on Friday or something to say goodbye.”

“Okay, Friday it is,” he says.

“What?” you ask, “Like the plan is happening on Friday?”

“We need to do it before the school year ends,” he tells you.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Ron tomorrow,” you tell him, beginning to pack up all of your belongings.

Masterlist

#sirius black x reader #fanfiction #reader #y/n #sirius black #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #slow burn #fluff

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golbrocklovely · 5 months

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i'm really lost, can you explain the timeline of Colby going from ms singer to m? just super confused about it all hahah

of course anon, i would love to lol

i'm actually genuinely happy someone finally asked me something like this bc i've been seeing a lot of misinformation and i'm really tired of it.

i'm explaining everything, pictures and all. i'm blurring out ppl's names and sticking to the codes names i've given the girls involved. i get that you can find these names relatively easy, i'm just not gonna be the place for you to do so.

some of the things i'm gonna mention don't have physical proof, bc they were in a live stream or just stuff i didn't take ss of. but trust me everything i'm gonna say is real and not me making shit up.

so… let's start from the beginning.

the first major misconception that i've seen is that colby and ms singer got together back in march, dated until october/november, and then colby just haphazardly moved onto m. ppl say this bc they use the pic of them out that leaked and compare it to the pic of her wearing the same outfit in march on her insta.

now idk how this got lost in translation, but ppl are trying to say it's m in the pic??? it's not, but cool that you guys want to believe that lol

but again, this fandom is holding onto "oh well, her pic on insta is from march, so that means that a, this pic was taken in march, and b, they have been together since then". respectfully, did yall forget that ppl rewear clothes? just curious.

i also literally saw her, on her story, post the exact same outfit, but in november. so....

the pic of him and ms singer is not from march. it got post on tiktok in october.

and HERE is colby, at universal horror nights, which is where the photo was taken, meeting a fan.

now, this might not proof enough, bc he could have just been dating her secretly and this was the first time they were "caught" in public. but let's be forreal for two seconds. first off, in march, he was deciding whether or not to get chemo. and on top of that they were working nonstop to have backlog content in case of him getting chemo. neither one of them had gfs or time for gfs.

on top of all of this, i have more proof that they didn't start seeing each other until september. colby did not even follow her until sept 21ish. i know this bc i keep track of who he follows and when. yes, i know it's weird. idc. here's other ppl he followed at that time:

the black box is ms singer's name.

now, onto the stuff i don't have proof of - right as all this information was blowing up, ms singer started getting more viewers on her tiktok livestreams. one of the first ones she had after the above tiktok dropped, she was asked during her livestream what's the best date she was on and she said it was one that happened recently, most likely alluding to colby's (with sam in tow most likely with k/la girl).

the biggest proof of them all is that ms singer herself said in a livestream that she didn't meet colby until september. she outwardly said that. i have friends who heard her say that, not just anons that randomly tell me things. actual ppl i have convos with daily.

now, we have to move on to how he got with m. everything this point down will just be complete speculation on my part. the only proof i have is that colby did not start following m until the day after sam's bday. she was at the party after the marathon bc k brought her there (and k was also there obviously).

personally, what i believe happened was that ms singer was very heavy handed on the fact that she personally wants to get married and have kids soon even tho she's only 21. she said it multiple times on tiktok. idk why you want to rush into that type of stuff, but hey, you do you. that being said, most likely, while they both enjoyed their time together, colby is not exactly ready to settle down and have kids anytime soon. so he most likely backed off of ms singer.

after halloween, ms singer was no where to be found with colby. what i believe happened is since k/la girl and sam were already together, she decided to bring along m to sam's bday bash. m and colby clicked, and they spent all this time together.

now, when it comes to ms singer and k and m being in some weird little drama where ms singer feels slighted - first off, i have no clue about any of that for certain. ms singer continues to be vague, for good reason, and so it's hard to know what happened. if i was ms singer, i too would be a bit pissed if my friend brought some other girl to be around the guy i was into, just bc he wasn't into me. i'm not trying to say all of this isn't messy. it is to some degree, but i don't fully blame k. colby is a grown man. if he wanted to continue his friendship with ms singer after they "broke up", he would have. clearly, it just wasn't in the cards. or maybe he felt awkward being friends with her still after moving onto someone she knew/is somewhat friends with.

okay, i think that's everything. if there is anything else you need me to explain, feel free to ask. the only reason i really wanted to answer this kind of ask was bc i've heard some whispers via comments on tiktok and twitter and whatever else that some fans think or believe that sam cheated on kat with k just bc ms singer (who is good friends with k) and kat knew each other. bc they think the timing of everything is "suspicious".

first off, kat and sam broke up in march. ppl mistakeningly believe ms singer was in the picture around this time, which is why they think k/la girl is also in the picture. that's just factually not true. secondly, sam was literally fuckboying his ass up during the summer: he followed multiple asian girls (like almost 10) in julyish before during and after japan, danced and spent the night with that random girl that was on jc's stream during his party (while colby had fun with her friend, mind you), and then ppl speculated that he had a thing with niki going on too. that boy was having fun during this period prior to september, which is when he ACTUAL started seeing k/la girl. and third, if sam or kat cheated on one another, i'm 99% certain we would have known way before now. they literally explained in their break up video that nothing actually happened, sam just wasn't ready for marriage. not to mention, if he did cheat, YALL AIRING IT OUT IS NOT THE WAY TO DO IT. if they were hiding something like that from us, realistically it would be for good reason. it's not your business to share that intimate of details.

and before anyone gets on my ass about that comment, everything i'm sharing with yall is already public info. i'm not speculating, minus what happened between ms singer and la girl. but even bits of that have been told by ms singer herself so… don't come for me lol

#ask #personal #cb ll

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juuheizou · 4 months

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what makes mutsuki genuinely angry/upset? how does he act and how to make amends?/also how does he like phisical affection ir affection in general seriously i love this pookie so muchh i just want to drown him in love and softness and gentleness🥹

SAME SAME SAME.

He is deeply upset by injustice and suffering of others, canonically to the point of doing reckless shit just to try helping. We know seeing his teammate in turmoil or even a stranger possibly walking into peril clouds his judgment and I can see him needing to break down after working a particularly tragic or gruesome case because how can something so terrible happen to someone?

I can also see him denying within an inch of his life that he is ever angry on his own behalf, but he does have smaller, more personal things that make him angry, or hurt, which it can be hard to tell the difference when you're in the thick of either one. He truly likes to help others and doesn't mind going out of his way for those he cares about, but it hurts when his efforts are taken for granted without so much as a 'thank you,' especially if he's met with criticism or mockery for that effort. I could also see some anger making its way through his bleeding heart if someone messed up something he had spent a lot of time and effort on, or the one thing in forever that was supposed to just be for him.

When he's angry or something in that vein, he tries so, so hard to calm down, breathe through it, bottle it up, whatever it takes to keep being calm and patient with everything. He's the type to keep saying that he's fine even when his voice is breaking while he says it. But the more upset he gets, the harder it is to calm down, so he gets snappy and passive-aggressive at small things that he normally tolerates, like 'a dirty dish or two in the sink' small. Then it evolves into similar short, moody behavior over nothing. Someone can simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he finally explodes, he can be prone to yelling at people, even if what they actually did in the moment doesn't in any way warrant being yelled at.

As far as making amends with him for something, he is a pretty forgiving guy. To a fault, even. True, like anyone, he appreciates changed behavior more than anything and as he grows and achieves a relatively healthy adult level of assertiveness, he is better at drawing the line when that doesn't ever happen. However, a lot of the time he will still accept the most basic bitch apology and it takes mistakes and consequences on his part for him to stop accepting amends that aren't really amends.

This poor boy so seldom thinks he deserves affection, and will deflect, deflect, deflect no matter how much he wants or likes what another person is doing for him. When we first meet him, he has a hard time even knowing, let alone articulating, how he likes to be shown affection, because it's just a far-off idea he doesn't deserve and has no idea how to accept. Deep down, though, all this deflecting leads to him having a backlog of things he likes the idea of and thinks might be nice. It's another as-he-gets-more-confident thing for him to even realize it himself, but he likes it when people thank him for all he does for the people he cares about, when they compliment him or something he did, or just tell him he can do something he's nervous about or he's helpful or he's handsome. He also loves it when his friends and loved ones carve out something special to do together, even if it's just coffee or watching a movie.

Physical affection is especially hard for him, but once he makes it past the first, biggest barrier he has up from all he's been through, he's in the deep end and I can see him having a bit of a needy phase when he first realizes that it's safe to allow someone he really trusts to touch him, though it would probably temper itself on its own with time to get used to that safety and trust. Just like all types of affection and attention, he has that same backlog of untried fantasies that he just cocoons himself in, which also contributes to that initial needy phase. I think he likes kisses, cuddling, even a simple hug, as the cherry on top of a special, sweet moment, whether it be an honest-to-goodness date or just a few seconds alone together. When it comes to SFW stuff, he likes soft, gentle touches and protective cuddling that makes him feel safe and cherished.

#listen i can talk about suzuya all night long but i just need to say the mutsuki asks i've gotten make me so happy #idk if you can tell but i also want to drown him in affection #mutsuki tooru #answers #anon

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author-chan06 · 1 month

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The Copy Club! The Plot

Chapter 4—

The Final Chapter

— Is Now Out!

Here: The Copy Club! The Plot

The final chapter of this story! Man I worked on this for weeks, trying to make sure I didn’t mess any of this last installment up ahah

If you’re wondering why I didn’t post about the others when you they were posted, it’d because, well, I hadn’t made this account yet. And I’m not even going to try and go back and do so, I have so many stories that it would end up just being spam, and it probably would take a long time anyway. So while I’ll be posting about my stories here now when I post them on ao3, if you want to see any of the older stuff then just go ahead and look at my ao3 account.

Also News!

I’m just gonna post what my ao3 authors note says as it explains things pretty well I think:

“As a matter of fact, I already have quite a few ideas, and one series that is already on here. So that will be the next thing I’ll be focusing on. That series being: Writings That (Probably) Should Have Stayed Private (But Didn't). Which is— go figure— also going to be revolving around Roman. But it’s from the perspective of the other sides! Mainly Patton, but I might add others. Not sure yet as I’m still prewriting some of it and debating some of the the ideas I want to add. I’ve gotten some of the next part written, though, that I need to edit. So it shouldn’t take a long time to have the next part done. Or the part after that one either. Which means it shouldn’t be long before I can start posting them.

If you’re interested you can go on over and see what the series looks like so far and look at the series notes for what it will be become (and there will be quite a bit of poetry in it, if that’s something that you like) But, anywho, I have an announcement to make!

The end of the school year is here! Which means, of course, projects and finals for me! Yay ^^; And I will unfortunately have less time to write and edit and do all the things that allow me to post on here [ao3] regularly. (Like I have a really big project for one of my classes that, even though though I have a B in that class, could tank my grade if I do bad!) So for that, and so that I will have some time to work on writing more of the series and my backlog, I will not be posting for a while.

I’m going to be having a short, about two month long, hiatus.

This hiatus will last until July 5th, when I will be posting the first chapter of the next part of the series I was talking about, and also posting another shorter story that I’ve been thinking about for a while now.

(Also! I have a new tumblr!

https://www.tumblr.com/author-chan06

I take requests. So if you want some type of story don’t hesitate to send them to my inbox! They will be looked at and or published, depending on when I want to write them, after the hiatus is over with

And during the hiatus I will definitely still be posting to tumblr— these posts will include how prewriting and writing for things are going, with my next series and my more long term fics and some oneshots I have in the works. And some headcanons and some writing requests I get, if I get some, over there. I might even post some snippets of the upcoming fics I was talking about! So if you’re curious about any of that, then go check it out!)”

But yeah. So a hiatus from ao3. Like it said, I’ll still be posting here. I just won’t have the time for the consistency I want for ao3. But in the meantime! If you have any headcanon requests or just requests in general for any of the ships or fandoms I like, please send them! Talk about my stories/ideas with me, talk about your stories/ideas with me, talk about my ships, talk about your ships! I’m really obsessing over Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss right now, so if you want something from those, or if you want to talk about that, I will probably be *extra* ecstatic and willing to do those!

Anywho! If I don’t end this now, I’ll just ramble forever ahah, so see you soon, darling readers~! <3 <3

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #fanfic #my writing #dlamptr #remrom is romantic #remrom #series #last installment #wrapping things up #happy ending #op is a proshipper #proshipper safe #op is a comshipper #comshipper safe

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silverwings22 · 1 month

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Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 60: Still Worth Fighting For- My Darkest Days

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness Chapter warnings: animal cruelty, sexual language, profanity, emotional collapse, medical experimentation, gambling

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

“I could use some help up here!” Omega was wrestling with the ship controls. “Nothing is responding!”

“I can't access the stabilizers. The system is offline.” Miria was furiously typing at a console, until Crosshair physically picked her up and put her on the lift with him and Batcher.

“We took too much damage in the escape.” He grumbled at her. They stumbled into each other when the ship lurched out of hyperspace, his arm catching her around the waist. “We need to land.”

“Difficult when nothing is working.” Omega grumbled. “I couldn't get anything out to Hunter and Wrecker.”

“That's alright, padawan mine.” Miria assured her. Crosshair dropped into the seat behind her and Miria slid into his arms sideways, doing their best to prepare for a crash landing. “Find as open a space as you can, and I'll try to slow our descent with the Force. Batcher, lay down.”

The hound dropped by her feet and Crosshair wrapped his arms around her, letting her tuck his head into the curve of her neck. “Not quite what I was hoping for.” He muttered quietly over the intermittent beeping of the controls and Omega struggling with the controls. He felt helpless, and he hated it.

“Hold on a bit longer. We're not done yet.” She pressed her lips over the scar on his temple. She was confident in Omega and the Force… but just in case, she wanted to kiss him one more time.

Crosshair felt her body tense as she fought gravity and the Force to keep them from exploding on impact. Omega managed to level them out enough to scrape bottom on flat ground instead of the jagged mountain area they'd passed not far back.

When the metal creaking and tearing sounds stopped, Omega popped the hatch. “This is going to take forever to repair.”

“There's no time.” Crosshair grumbled, trying to push his seat back. It was stuck, and he wasn't quite willing to let Miria go to climb out. “The Empire will be looking for this shuttle, and us.”

“But we need to get the backlog coordinates for Tantiss. For when we go back.” Omega turned around in her seat. Miria was kicking her feet like a turtle on its back, her backpack weighing her down from getting out of Crosshair’s lap.

“We're not going back.” He snapped. “Why the hell would you ever want to go back to that place?” He finally stood Miria up so he could stand too.

“The other clones.” Omega said firmly. “We can't just leave them there.:

Miria looked at Crosshair. “Those regs didn't deserve to be there any more than you did.” Miria slung her legs out and jumped to the ground, holding her arms out to catch Omega.

The girl leapt into them immediately. “We don't leave our own behind.” She said firmly.

Crosshair bit back his immediate snark and climbed down with a gear pack he’d found. “I clocked a spaceport a few klicks back. We can try to find something there.”

Omega whistled for Batcher, and the hound moved to her side faithfully. She was content to walk a little further back with the pup, so Miria trotted ahead to walk beside Crosshair.

“You’re angry.” She said softly.

“She said it so quickly. We don’t leave our own behind.” Crosshair grumbled. “Like second nature.”

“Hunter’s been a good father to her.” Miria glanced over at him. There was no time for her to show him what she was carrying on her back, but she desperately needed to soon. He needed his own chance, needed the way loving a child had changed Hunter from soldier to father. Soldiers died too quickly in this new Empire.

“He didn’t have a problem leaving me behind.”

Miria sighed. “At the time, you didn’t want to be rescued. As soon as you did, I started looking for you.”

“And where was Hunter during that?” Crosshair grumbled.

Miria gritted her teeth. “Right next to me on Eriadu, when Tech died.” A sharp pain in her chest caught her off guard and she had to pause, taking short breaths until it passed.

Crosshair shut up immediately, eyes dropping to the ground. Miria felt the Force around him discolor and dim, and she could only reach out and hook a finger into his pinky. “Cross. Your brothers aren’t a lost cause. And neither are you.” Her voice was soft, almost imperceptible against the sound of their boots and nature around them. She almost thought he had missed it, until his fingers flexed and slid in between hers. She squeezed his hand gently, a hopeful flutter in her chest replacing the pain. They were both gruesomely damaged now, from the months of loss and loneliness. But if he was willing to fight to save what was between them, she was sure they could survive it together.

They made it to the city, trying to look inconspicuous in the face of a heavy Imperial presence around the space port. “They can’t have tracked us here that fast.” Omega frowned.

“That’s a standard patrol presence.” Crosshair shook his head.

“So we should be able to get around them and get a comm out to Hunter and Wrecker.” The girl said hopefully.

“They monitor long range comms. It’ll give us away.” Crosshair murmured.

“Well we can’t just stay like this, we stand out.” Omega grumbled.

“You’re the one who wanted to bring the hound.”

Miria tried not to laugh at the familiar back and forth of siblings bickering, or that he seemed to think the lurca and not their literal prison uniforms were what made them conspicuous. She could almost imagine Wrecker and Hunter having the exact same conversation in the back of the Marauder when Wrecker was begging to keep Muchi the rancor.

Omega wrinkled her nose and patted Batcher. “Don’t listen to him. We’ll think of something.”

Crosshair glanced behind him, frowning when he realized Miria wasn’t beside him any longer. “Where-?”

“Thinking of something.” She startled him when she popped back up besidehim, holding a couple bundles of clothes and grinning. She handed him a thick jacket and a hat with a face mask. “Here. This should keep you warm, love.”

While he put it on, Miria helped Omega into a coat and cap and slipped on one for herself. Crosshair’s face was obscured from below the eyes, while Miria’s coat had a fluff-lined hood to cover her striped hair. “Good idea, Miri. This will help us blend in.”

Miria smiled and patted her head. “I’m sure the people who left them out won’t notice for a while.”

“You stole something?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow.

Omega smirked. “She and Hunter stole a speeder and got into a police chase.”

“A bounty hunter was trying to steal you.” Miria wrinkled her nose.

He stared at her, following silently when she waved for him. They headed for the transportation depot. It was crawling with Imperial soldiers. “We’ll never be able to sneak past them all.” Omega murmured.

“I could take half of them out before they noticed.” Crosshair offered.

“There’s civilians manning the front desk.” Miria shook her head. “You know my stance on collateral damage.”

“So that stays the same, but now you steal stuff and kill people?” Crosshair snipped.

“We all have our own line.” She looked at Omega. “Plan, padawan?”

“.... we could bribe them?” The girl offered.

“We have no money.” Miria pointed out.

“They don’t need to know that.” Omega turned and walked ahead, heading to the counter.

Crosshair looked at Miria, crossing his arms as they followed. She glanced back and smiled, gripping the strap of her backpack tightly. Not much longer before she could sit him down and show him… They’d be safe and home, and the horrors could abate for just a moment. He had to be as desperate to fall apart as she was.

“Fifteen thousand credits?” Omega squeaked, catching her attention again.

“Each.” The heavily covered desk clerk nodded towards Miria and Crosshair. “You’re lucky I’m not charging more for the creature. Don’t come back until you have the credits.”

Omega walked back over to Miria and Crosshair, head down. “That went well.” Crosshair drawled.

“Stow it.” Omega huffed, then looked at Miria. “That’s a lot of credits.” She said softly. “Forty five thousand?”

Miria put a hand on her hair gently, “We’ll find a way to get it. Come along.” She moved Omega into the middle between her and Crosshair, both protective and because it reinforced their cover of a daughter with her parents and pet.

“Now what?” Crosshair said tensely.

Miria and Omega looked at each other and Miria chuckled when she realized they were standing right in front of a bar. “Remember that dejarik tournament on Ord Mantell?” Omega grinned.

“I remember you beat Hunter.” Miria smiled sharply.

“I beat you too.” Omega snickered.

“She beat you?” Crosshair blinked. “Even Tech couldn’t beat you.”

Miria looked back at him with a sheepish smile. “And she’s even better at sabacc. Wrecker taught her, you know I’m terrible at it.”

“That’s your plan? You want to hustle someone?” Crosshair grumbled as they headed into the bar. “What are we going to put up as a bet? We don’t have anything.”

“They don’t need to know that, love.” Miria winked, patting his knee as Omega picked her target. It was a loud, brash trandoshan male who was in the mood to bully a child. It made him fun to put in his place. “There’s a dejarik table over there. I’ll try my hand.”

He met her eyes, brow furrowing before he caught her wrist and pulled her closer when she started to set her bag on the seat next to him. His voice was low, in the kind of way that made her want to forget they needed money and instead climb into his lap no matter how many people were looking. “I thought you told me Jedi don’t gamble.” He breathed in her ear.

She leaned in until her own lips were right at his ear and smiled. Once upon a time she’d have been too embarrassed to respond, and have scuttled away flustered or sat down beside him and stared at her shoes. That was before she’d found the beskar in her spine, that it took to stand up and survive all she had. “They don’t fuck clones either.” She crooned in his ear. “But just you wait until I get you alone.”

Crosshair’s skin flushed hot under his mask. “... fuck, you’ve changed.” He muttered.

“Not in the ways that matter.” She shot him a wink and patted her bag gently. “Keep your eyes on this, and don’t open it.”

“What’s in it?” He frowned, meeting her eyes. He wanted to just pull her to him, forget everything for a minute and let Omega save them, but he knew he couldn’t. Being wrapped up in her arms wasn’t worth it if they ended back in cells. He wasn’t able to think about losing her again, not when he didn’t even fully have her back.

“I’ll show you once we’re somewhere safe. I promise.” She put her hand on his knee for a moment. “Please trust me.”

She and the little blonde girl behind her might have been the only ones he trusted anymore. “Alright. Be careful.”

Miria slipped off to start playing, and he sat back to keep an eye on her and Omega in turns.

Omega cleaned out the trandoshan for about twenty thousand credits when an Imperial captain walked in. Mira’s eyes darted up and she quickly finished her round of dejarik and pocketed the credits she’d managed to get. She slid back into the seat beside Crosshair and frowned, eyes glued to the man. Crosshair shifted and she settled, moving her bag to her lap and dropping the credits into the bag Omega had stolen.

“What did you get?” Crosshair murmured.

“Thirty.” Miria breathed. “She'll only need fifteen more.”

“She's already got twenty, but that captain is determined to give her a hard time. Even the hound senses it.” He muttered. Batcher was growling from the corner of the table, next to Omega.

Miria nodded, watching the man's face. “He’s getting angry, too.”

Almost on cue, the captain looked at Omega. “Your mutt is a distraction. Get it out of here.” Omega glanced over her shoulder and nodded at Crosshair, so he got up and whistled for Batcher to follow him.

The captain eyed Miria once he was gone, and it made her skin prickle uncomfortably. He couldn’t possibly recognize her with her hood up… she didn’t have any distinctive tattoos like Crosshair did that necessitated covering her face. Her hair was the most distinctive feature… So she smiled politely despite her revulsion, and he nodded and went back to his game.

Crosshair sat down next to her again. “Left the hound by the back door. We’ll go out that way.”

She nodded, leaning back against the booth and watching Omega. Her fingers drummed anxiously on the bag in her lap, the only outward sign she was anything but at ease. Crosshair couldn’t help but think of the gala, long ago on Coruscant, where he’d spotted those same nervous fingertips and asked her to leave with him. “Did they take your ring?” He frowned, noticing the lack of silver on her left hand.

“I dislocated my shoulder on Eriadu. My hand was swollen, so Echo helped me take it off and string it on my necklace. It’s hanging on our bunk.” She rubbed the inside of her ring finger with her thumb, voice coming up a little out of breath. Crosshair worried immediately she’d been injured in the crash. “I’d have lost my mind to have my engagement ring dishonored like that, but I’ve felt naked without it.”

Omega lay down her cards, an immediate game over and win. Crosshair looked a little proud, leaning back with his arms crossed.

The captain eyed her. “You beat me fair and square. Twenty thousand credits.” He slid the money over to Omega, who gathered it up and brought it over to Miria and Crosshair. As she dropped it in the back, he considered the three of them. “I haven’t seen you or your parents around before.”

“We’re just passing through.” Omega said quietly, backing up to Miria as she and Crosshair stood up. The woman’s hands moved to her shoulders, protective and familiar. Crosshair watched the way they moved and realized this wasn’t their first face off with danger together.

“Well, you’ll need to pay your fine and you’re welcome to continue your travels.” The captain smirked.

“Fine?” Miria narrowed her eyes.

“Gambling is illegal on Lau. Ten thousand credits for every infraction. You were at the dejarik table, weren’t you ma’am?” His smile sharpened. “Unless you’d like your whole family to be arrested.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Miria glanced at Crosshair and shook her head when his fists clenched. “Sweetheart, pay the gentleman our fine for the trouble?”

Omega nodded, slowly taking twenty thousand out of the bag and handing it over. Miria stared the captain down as he pocketed it. “Pleasure doing business with you all.”

“Likewise.” She said coolly, watching him walk past them and out the back door. Once he was gone, she turned Omega around. “You alright, little love?”

Omega nodded. “Yeah… How much do we have now?”

“Fifty. That’s enough for the bribe and a little over.” Miria sighed. “It’s not much over, but it’ll buy us a cheap room somewhere to wait for Hunter and Wrecker once we’re off this planet.” She leaned over and kissed Omega’s forehead. “Did he call us your parents?”

Omega snickered. “Yeah.”

“I won’t tell Hunter if you don’t. Let’s go get Batcher, and get out of here.” Miria smiled, adjusting her bag on her back and reaching for Crosshair’s sleeve. They walked out the back door and Omega started looking for her hound.

“Batcher…? Batcher!”

“She must be around here somewhere.” Miria started, frowning. “She wouldn’t have wandered off, she likes you far too much.”

“I can tell you what happened, for a price.” A child sitting outside the door looked up at them. “Ten thousand credits.”

Miria raised an eyebrow, putting a hand up when Crosshair took a threatening step towards the kid. “Or I could let him shoot you. Do you really want to risk it?”

“Five thousand?” The kid asked nervously.

Crosshair growled. Miria huffed. “Fine.” She reached into the bag and tossed the credits out. “Where’s our hound?”

“That Imperial Captain and his men grabbed it and took it towards the cargo docks. Pleasure doing business with you.” The kid darted away as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Omega squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“The transportation hub is this way.” Crosshair drawled, crossing his arms.

“And the cargo docks are this way. We’ve got to get Batcher.” Omega said

“Forget the hound, Omega. Every minute we’re on this planet, we’re at risk. We need to go.”

Omega narrowed her eyes and tossed him the cash bag. “If you wanna go, then go. I’ll find my own way.” She turned and stormed off towards the docks.

Crosshair looked at the bag in his hands, then at Miria. She sighed, shouldering her bag more securely. “Are you going to leave again?” She said softly.

“Miria. You have to think this is insane.” He caught her chin and turned her face up to him. It had been too long since the last time he’d done so with gentleness; she couldn’t help but close her eyes for a moment. “Let’s go. Please.”

“We don’t leave our own behind. Before Order 66, you never would have considered it. So show me the Crosshair I know is still in there, and fight for your family. Give me right now, like you promised.” She said firmly, pushing the bag of credits into his hands. “Or you can take these credits and go, and I’ll know the Empire really did destroy you.”

She was taking a huge gamble, giving him the choice again. If he walked away now, she’d lose him forever. She’d be lost herself forever without him. But everything she knew about Crosshair said he had to choose for himself or he’d resent being dragged along. She’d chased him across the galaxy, all the way to Tantiss… now he had to chase her. All she could do was pray he still loved her enough to do it.

He stared at her for a long moment before pulling his mask down below his chin and pulling her quickly to him. His lips met hers firmly, chapped and desperate but everything she’d ever wanted. She tasted it on his mouth; the promise was still alive. He was back, hers and in the flesh instead of a fleeting dream she was afraid to grasp too tightly in case she crushed the life from it. “Fine. Let’s get the kid and the hound.” He murmured when he leaned back. “But can I please shoot someone?”

“Only in an emergency.” She smiled, hands pressed to his chest as she looked up at him. His eyes seemed softer now, after so long seeing him narrowed and tense while he’d hunted her down for the Empire. It was hard to imagine, looking in those eyes, that the last time she’d seen him had been on that platform on Kamino. It seemed centuries ago now. “Let’s go.”

They took off, catching up to Omega as she posted herself by the fence outside the docks to figure out a plan. “We'll do this your way.” Crosshair muttered, handing her back the money bag. “But my skills are being wasted.”

“Noted.” Omega smiled and glanced at Miria, who gave her a grin and nod. Omega had endless faith in her brothers, but she was still a little girl in the worst kind of situation. A little reassurance that Miria trusted Crosshair went a long way.

Crosshair interlaced his hands and gave the girl a boost over, then did the same for Miria before climbing after them. There were hundreds of hapless creatures in cages here, all screaming and crying for their freedom when they peeked around a stack of crates. “Should we let all the animals out?” Omega whispered.

“Don't push it.” Crosshair huffed.

Miria crouched and peeked around a shipping container. “I see Batcher. Keep low, we'll-”

“I knew you'd come looking for your mutt.” The gambling captain's voice made them all spin around, blasters up. “You're surrounded, don't bother. Just give me back my credits and surrender. It'll be more pleasant… at least until Hemlock shows up.”

Omega recoiled while Crosshair started scanning how many Imperials constituted being ‘surrounded.’ Miria felt the urge to hiss well up within her like a cornered nexu, and she forced a measured response despite the desire to just start fighting. “He's not taking us.” None of us. We’re not going back. He’s not taking Crosshair away from me again. He’s not keeping Omega from her family any more. He’s not stealing any more hope from me.

She wouldn’t survive if he did. She’d come apart and turn into a monster Vader had predicted if Hemlock got his hands on her. He’d drag her into the darkness no matter how she fought, and in the end the real victims would be the two on either side of her and the tiny soul helplessly cradled in her backpack. Her family, the only thing she had left to love when the Temple burned behind her.

“Of course he is. You three must be valuable, for how fast we got word after your shuttle was found crashed. It's a pity, too. You're a pretty thing.”

Omega threw the credit bag, tossing it mostly towards the Imperial to distract his hungry eyes from the way her brother was dying to kill him. “Fine. We'll do this your way.” She looked over her shoulder at Crosshair.

He glanced from her to Miria, who smirked and reached for her own blaster. “This is an emergency, darling.”

“Finally.” Crosshair’s voice contained the ghost of that smirk she adored. She heard the blaster click from stun to fire, and he opened up on them over her shoulder.

Miria dropped low, covering him from behind. “Omega, remember what you did with Muchi?”

Omega grinned and ran for the controls, hopping over a downed man to open the cages and free every creature she could. It was a little poetic, Miria thought, to see a child who’d escaped her own cage freeing both them and everything else suffering the way she had.

“What's a Muchi?” Crosshair asked when his back pressed to Miria's. She tried not to notice he'd missed three shots, or the worry would eat her alive.

“Baby rancor.”

“You uncaged a rancor?”

“Wrecker wrestled it.” Miria spotted Omega reuniting with Batcher. “Omega! The cargo ship!”

“Got it!” Omega yelled back, her and her hound racing up the open ramp. The two adults kept any Imperials from following her until the engines came online.

“That's our ride, my darling.” Miria chuckled, shooting at the feet of an Imperial who stumbled back and was trampled by the milling creatures escaping.

“Who taught you to shoot like that?” He grabbed her by the hand and they scrambled for the ship, scuttling aboard before the ramp could close.

“You did.” She gasped as a screaming Imperial got thrown backwards by the engine ignition, and they shot into the sky. She threw her arms around Crosshair’s neck, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder. It was quiet suddenly, and all she could make herself care about was Crosshair’s breathing against her own ragged gasps.

He dropped his blaster and hugged her around the waist, lifting her off the ground. “You okay?” He breathed.

“I am now.” She smiled, finally getting a moment of peace to just look at him. Even if it was just his eyes, it was Crosshair. Finally, Crosshair, after so long she’d thought she’d go insane without him. “I knew you'd never leave us again.”

He pulled his hat and mask off. “It was a close thing.”

“No it wasn't.” Miria shook her head, unwilling to let him go quite yet. “I know you better. Ni kartayl su.”

He chuckled, leaning over for a second to rest his forehead against hers. “C'mon. Let's check on Omega.” His concern and immediate devotion to protecting his sister was the kind of endearing that made Miria’s heart catch in her throat. All the desperate, soft feelings wanted to overtake her after being pushed down for months. But he was right, Omega needed them.

They walked up to the cockpit, arms around each other. Omega was finishing up programming the navi-computer as they arrived, Batcher with her head on the girl's knee. Miria leaned over, wrapping her arms around Omega’s shoulders from behind. “Well done, padawan mine. I’m so proud of you.”

Omega smiled and leaned into the hug. “Not bad for winging it.”

Crosshair dropped into the seat beside Omega. “The Empire will be able to track this ship. We need to ditch it.”

Omega nodded. “I've already sent a coded message to Hunter and Wrecker, with coordinates to meet.”

“Omega.” Crosshair’s voice softened, and both Miria and Omega looked at him with various levels of concern. “It's been months. We don't even know if they're alive-”

“They're alive, and they'll be there.” Omega said firmly. “Right, Miri?”

“If I know Hunter, he's been searching for you the whole time. And Wrecker’s been keeping him out of danger.” Miria said softly.

“You think Echo is still with them?” Omega murmured.

“He'd probably have access to more information with Rex, so he likely went back. I'm sure my side of the family is searching too, and communicating through Echo.”

Crosshair made a face as Batcher leaned up to lick his cheek. “And if they're not?”

“They will be.” Omega said firmly, scrubbing her eyes with her hand as her bravado cracked. “Sorry… Emerie said I shouldn't cry.” She finally whispered.

Miria shifted to kneel beside the girl's chair, cupping her cheeks in her hands. “Emerie’s been turned into a breathing droid incapable of human emotion. You've been so strong for such a long time, but you're a child. Cry if you need to. Now, or when you see Hunter and Wrecker again. Whenever you feel safe, you can cry.”

Omega nodded and hugged her, Miria cradling the blonde head on her shoulder. Behind her, Crosshair got up and went back down to the hold. “Is he okay, Miri?” She whispered. “I really thought he was going to leave back there…”

“That's not who he is.” Miria sighed. “But right now, he's afraid. Afraid Hunter and Wrecker are gone, or that they won't want him back. He knows nothing will ever be the same, but he can't prepare for differences he can't imagine. He's had a harder time than anyone realizes, having to go through everything all alone. It'll be a long adjustment, I'm sure… but try to be kind.”

Omega nodded, reaching out to cuddle Batcher. “We've got a couple hours till the rendezvous. I won't be lonely up here, so you should go talk to him.”

Miria smiled and kissed her cheek. “I would have been lost without you, Omega. Thank you for believing in him, and in me.”

Omega smiled back, and Miria crept off to check on Crosshair. She looked at Batcher, who's head cocked to the side. “They're gonna get married.” She explained. “Miri said they met during the war and-”

Crosshair was sitting on a crate with his back to the wall when Miria found him, one knee up. She knew his mind was racing by body language alone. “There you are, darling.” She set her bag down next to the crate and reached for him. “You're anxious.”

When her hand settled on his arm, he dropped the updrawn leg and let her step up between his parted knees. He considered her face for a long time, the fingers brushing her cheek wracked with tremors again. She cupped her hand over his and held it steady to her face. He gritted his teeth when he couldn't get the shakes to stop. “I knew you'd be good with her… telling her it's okay to cry. She's not a soldier, she can-”

“You can cry too, Crosshair.” Miria stood on her tiptoes to press her forehead against his. “You're a man, not a monument. It's okay.”

He took a shaky breath. He'd been her enemy, was missing shots, eyes stinging with tears now… he felt like half the man he'd been before, and she was still holding him like she'd never let go. “... why are you still so good to me?” He whispered, and she heard the crack in his voice that told her he wasn't able to stop himself from crying this time.

“Because I love you. You're my shining star.” She whispered, voice splintering like his had as she tried and failed to stop herself from collapsing into him as well.

He put his head on her shoulder, letting go of her face just to hug her tightly. If she heard the broken breathing or felt the tears on her skin, she made no comment. She just held him through the storm, fingers stroking his head delicately through her own sobbing. He managed to get halfway to his feet and slid to the floor with her, both clinging and crying together.

It had been so long since either of them felt truly safe enough to cry like this. Strength had been a facade, Crosshair’s survival mechanism in the Empire and Miria's tool to protect the Batch, for over a year. Now, they could let it go. He didn't need her to be his leader, and she would never think less of him when he fell apart.

It felt like hours when the crying stopped, the two of them laying on the floor curled into each other and catching their breath as the feelings settled into a manageable tangle like their limbs. Miria wiped his cheek with her sleeve. Crosshair pushed a tear off hers with his thumb. “... you're even pretty when you cry.” He mumbled. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I've missed you too. Every day, I thought about you and hoped it was the day you came home.” She smiled.

Crosshair sighed. “... do you think they… will they even want me to come back?” He sounded hesitant, out of place in the serpentine velvet of his voice. “Will Hunter even let me?”

“He made me a promise, a long time ago.” Miria assured him. “You'll always have a home to come back to with them, even if I wasn't there.”

“And if he breaks it?” Crosshair hugged her tight.

“Then I go wherever you go. I've got family in the rebellion and on Naboo. We'll find our place together.” She brought his hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles.

“The two of us.” He nodded, the familiar and long-awaited uptick of his heartbeat when her lips touched his skin reminding him he was awake and alive. She wasn't just a dream. She had kept searching for him when everyone told her to give up.

And she'd found him.

“Three, darling.” She whispered. “I need to show you something.”

Crosshair frowned and sat up, leaning against the corner formed by a crate and the wall. Miria got to her knees and called her bag to her with the Force. There were nerves evident in the way she moved, fingers clutching the bag fabric too tightly. “Miria?”

“It's alright, love. It's… it's not the way we planned, but it's something good anyway. And the timing isn't ideal but I'm sure the others won't be upset once they understand, and-” She couldn't stop herself, wringing her hands and looking down because what if this was too much? It was so much for her, and she had more faith and agency than he had in the last year. What if he didn't want this? What if he didn't want-

Her racing thoughts were cut off by his fingers under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Just show me. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.” He whispered.

Miria nodded, righting her flagging resolve and opening the bag. The shine of the transparisteel bubble and blinking lights caught Crosshair off guard for a moment before he leaned in to inspect the growth tube. “A baby?” He frowned.

“Our baby.” Miria fished out the datapad. “I only had a few moments to glance over the experiment notes, but I don't see where she was altered at all. No enhanced aging, no genetic modification… He wanted a biological child of mine, and my DNA wouldn't accept anyone else's but yours.”

Crosshair nodded, eyes fixed on the infant in the tube. “So… this is her? Mayrin?” He finally asked. “Our daughter?”

Miria was so grateful he'd come to the conclusion on his own instead of her having to convince him. She nodded, putting her hand over the tube. “She's about ready to come out… we can wait a few days, to figure everything out with your brothers-”

“No.” He shook his head. “You told me… when we first talked about this…”

Miria remembered the moment like it was preserved in amber. The heat of Tattooine, the sting of her injured back, Crosshair’s face furrowed with the stress of trying to make himself understood when he worried he'd be a terrible father.

“What if they hate me?”

“Oh darling. What if they love you?”

She smiled, understanding writing a love letter in her eyes when she looked back at him. There was a chance his brothers would hate him now. So much had changed and become uncertain between them… but his daughter would love him. She already did, so much so that she'd come through time and the Force to become one of the three who'd saved him from himself.

Miria, Omega, and Mayrin. The lover, sister, and daughter that kept fighting for him long after he'd resigned himself to his fate. Millions of men came out of Kamino when he had, but none of them could do what three girls could accomplish and save a broken man.

“After we take her out, we should introduce her to Omega.” He said softly. “Can we do that?”

She grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. “Absolutely.” She got up and walked Over to the stacks of cargo, haphazardly turned over. It didn't take her long to find a couple blankets, towels, and a med-kit. Crosshair sat cross-legged on the floor and watched as Miria opened the tube and lifted the baby out, laying her on a towel, scrubbing her dry, and cutting the umbilical. The baby set up wailing, clearing her tiny lungs. Miria handed Crosshair the softest blanket she'd found, and carefully swept the newborn into it in his arms. “Shh, you're alright.” She crooned, leaning over his shoulder and keeping a hand under his while he held their daughter. “Mind her head, love.”

Crosshair stared down at the baby as her tiny cry petered out and she stared at him with unfocused eyes. Lavender eyes. “... Mayrin.” He finally murmured. “That's your name. Mayrin Nina Halcyon. I'm your father, and this is your mom.”

There was something poignant to Miria about him speaking the name to the little girl first. Like his voice could speak the soul into this tiny body, made in an unspeakable place by a madman. By telling his daughter who she was, Crosshair undid everything Hemlock had tried to make her. She was theirs, and he was already fading into memory behind them.

Miria rested her head on Crosshair’s shoulder. “We've waited a long time to meet you.” She told the baby, brushing her fingers over the damp fluff of fine silver hair. “You're so beautiful. We knew you would be.”

Crosshair wrapped the blanket more securely around his daughter, sitting in the warm glow of her existence. Miria couldn't bring herself to move, looking from the new life that existed between them to the absolutely tender expression on Crosshair’s face.

“Do you want to go introduce her to Omega?” Miria whispered after a while.

“You carry her. With my hand… I don't want to drop her.”

Miria nodded and took the baby, getting to her feet. He picked up the datapad and pocketed it, determined to go through it piece by piece to make sure there was nothing he needed to fix for Mayrin. And he would, no matter what it took, because when she’d looked at him all he could see was someone who loved him just as much as Miria and knew nothing of his sins.

Miria scooped up a pair of blacks bottoms and a field kit real quick, and they headed back up to the cockpit.

“Omega?” Crosshair was the first to call out.

“Did you get to cry?” The girl spun around in her seat.

“... yeah.” Her brother sighed. “Actually, I probably needed it.”

“I did too.” Miria volunteered. “And we've got someone for you to meet, who's probably going to do a lot of crying for a while.” She sat down in the copilot seat and moved the blanket so Omega could see. “This is our daughter. Your niece, Mayrin.”

Omega blinked, eyes wide as the baby yawned and snuggled closer to Miria's chest. “You had a baby?”

“Yes.” Miria smiled. “I'll explain when we're all together, but… this was what was in that backpack.”

“Can I touch her?” Omega whispered, scared to wake up the half-asleep little one.

“Gently. Her head is still soft.” Miria nodded. Omega hesitantly brushed her fingers over the chubby baby cheek, startled when the baby tried to nurse her pinky that strayed close to her mouth.

“She's hungry.” Omega murmured.

Miria nodded. “We'll look through the crates and see if we find anything we can feed her. There were supplies back there.”

“I'll go check.” Crosshair offered, instantly determined to provide for his daughter. He was down the ladder again in an instant.

Miria laughed softly and looked at Omega. “It's so good to finally have him home.”

Wrecker had volunteered to wait outside the Havoc Marauder when the Imperial cargo ship landed. There was a chance it wasn't Omega, that this was a trap, and he didn't think his sergeant could endure that disappointment. Hunter had barely been keeping it together, and he'd been picking up all the slack he could to try to ease the burden. It was hard, a family of seven reduced to two. Crosshair in the Empire, Echo with Rex, Tech dead, and Miria and Omega missing… the ship had felt like a tomb for months. A gun case, silver ring, lonely tooka plushie, and a pair of shattered glasses told the story of what they'd lost since Order 66.

When the big ship touched down, the ramp opened fast. Wrecker tensed, until the figure silhouetted in the lights appeared. She was taller now, with a little ponytail, but it was her. “Omega!”

“Wrecker!” She jumped down the last three steps and went running for him, arms open. “Wrecker! I knew you’d come!”

He swept her up in his arms, holding her high. There were tears in her eyes and his, but he was so grateful she was alive and safe. “We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.”

“Five. And it was you who found us.”

Omega wiggled down from Wrecker’s arms, breaking into real sobs at the familiar shape in the doorway of the Marauder. “Hunter!”

The sergeant cleared the steps two at a time and dropped to his knees to embrace her when she ran into his arms.

Still on the cargo ship, Miria and Crosshair hung back just out of sight to give them their moment. Miria had made a sling to hold the baby to her chest out of cut blacks, and tucked her inside her coat to keep her warm. Her hand rested on Crosshair’s back gently.

“They look so happy to see her.” He said quietly.

“They're her brothers. And your brothers too.” She squeezed his hand. “They won’t turn you away.”

“What if they do?” He said quietly. “I know you said we’d go somewhere, but… we can’t protect her alone. My hand… I can’t shoot or fly reliably enough to keep you both safe. We need them.”

Miria shook her head, voice firm. “If you can’t shoot, I’ll shoot our enemies. If you can’t fly a ship, I will sit in the pilot seat. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you myself. If you forget where you are, I will remind you. I choose you, Crosshair. I will always choose you.”

Crosshair brought her hand to his lips. “I choose you too.” He breathed, and they stepped out onto the ramp. He wanted to retreat, find a safe distance to observe and keep himself from having what little was left of him broken by the rejection… but Miria and Mayrin were there. He was committed to choosing them, if nothing else.

Wrecker and Hunter were still looking at Omega. Hunter slowly pulled back from the hug to look at her. Her sweet face had changed, grown up some, but it was still his girl. “How did you escape?”

“I had some help.” She turned and gestured.

“Miri!” Hunter saw her first, and stood up to reach out and hug his best friend. Wrecker also grinned, until their eyes tracked her hand behind her and holding onto the one man they'd given up hope of ever seeing again.

“Crosshair.” Wrecker said, expression going flat. He moved shoulder to shoulder with his sergeant, and as Miria and Crosshair made it to the bottom of the stairs she felt the divide between them had never been so wide.

Crosshair looked down, and Miria tightened her squeeze on his hand. “It's good to see you both.” She smiled, pulling her sniper towards them. “If it's all the same to you, I'd like to recount the escape once we're far away from this ship. It has a tracking beacon.”

Hunter couldn't argue with her logic on that, and hustled her and Crosshair into the ship. Batcher came trotting after, pulling a little sled they'd cobbled together with two crates of formula and diapers on it.

Hunter went and got them in the air silently, setting the navi-computer for Pabu before coming back to the hold. Omega was encouraging Batcher to climb into her room and out of the way to observe the reunion. Wrecker reached down for Miria excitedly, unable to contain his joy at seeing her any longer.

“Gently, Wrecker. Delicate cargo.” She said softly before he could squeeze her, and Hunter frowned.

“What's wrong? Are you hurt?” He circled her when Wrecker froze. Crosshair tried not to snap at him. Did he really think if Miria was hurt he wouldn't have been urgently demanding medical attention for her? They should know him better… they used to know him better. Before the Empire.

“No, I'm not hurt. I'm just carrying a passenger.” Miria unzipped her coat and tugged back the wrap to reveal the baby's head. “This is Mayrin.”

“... who's baby is that?” Hunter was staring at the tiny girl, trying to decipher the artificial smell of something lingering on her skin under the formula and Miria's scent.

“Ours.” Crosshair muttered. “She's our daughter.”

Wrecker blinked. “You had a baby?!”

His booming voice startled Mayrin awake and she began to cry, so Miria bounced and rubbed her back. “Shhh. Don't be frightened. It's only your ba'vodu Wrecker. He's not scary.”

Wrecker immediately dropped to a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

Crosshair wanted an out, and lightly tapped Miria's arm. “I'll take her.”

Miria untied the wrap and carefully handed Mayrin over. Crosshair retreated to the back of the hold with her, and the new mother looked back at Wrecker and Hunter. Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You sure it's wise to give him access to your baby?”

“He's her father.” Miria said firmly. “You could show a little grace.”

“Miri. He chose the Empire over us on Kamino. How are we supposed to trust this?” Hunter almost sounded pleading. “How do we know it's safe to take him to Pabu?”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because he brought your daughter and mine to you safely.”

Hunter’s eye twitched. “That's not fair.” He already felt guilty enough he hadn't found Omega despite months of searching. Did she have to remind him he only had her back in his arms because of Crosshair?!

She sighed. “You made me a promise a long time ago, Hunter. If you can't trust him enough to keep it, can you at least trust me?” Her lavender eyes looked so tired, dark circles under them that highlighted the sharpness of her jaw from the weight she'd lost in captivity.

He didn't have it in him to argue with his best friend in the galaxy when she'd been through so much. “Alright… we'll figure out how to work it out.”

“Thank you… I'm going to get my jewelry, and then I'm going to figure out where to put my daughter to sleep.” She sighed.

Wrecker looked sheepish. “There's that footlocker we used to keep snacks in, in the galley. A couple pillows and a blanket in there would make an okay cradle, wouldn't it?”

Miria smiled and nodded. “Actually, yes. It would be secure, if we ever needed to close the lid to protect her.” She ran a hand back through her hair, outgrown now and past the curve of her ass. “It has soft-close hinges, right? I don't want it to slam…”

“Yeah, it does. I'll go get it, and some stuff from the bunkroom. I feel bad I made her cry.” Wrecker scrambled off.

Miria headed for the bunkroom, Hunter on her heels. “We need to talk about what happened, Miri. How you made it out, and what happened to you.”

“Can this wait, Hunter? I need to get Mayrin settled and-” She trailed off when he grabbed her wrist.

“I might not be nat born, Miri, but I know that you weren't gone long enough to get pregnant and give birth. And that baby smells off, too. Give me something.”

She gritted her teeth before grabbing the shirtfront of her prison uniform and untucking it from her pants to show him the raw incisions on her stomach. “Hemlock cut the parts he needed out of me to make her. She's Crosshair’s daughter, because my DNA would accept no sample but his. Ours, and we took her back from that monster.”

Hunter twitched again. “... he cut-”

“Yes, and Crosshair was there longer than I was, so just imagine what’s he’s been through.” She yanked her shirt back down and pulled her hand from his grip, turning to pluck her necklace and ring from the pillow shelf over her bunk. “I'm so tired, Hunter. But I did it. I found him. Just like Tech wanted…”

Hunter flinched at the lost brother's name and ran out of momentum for his distrust. “... when Echo visits, have him scan her for a chip?”

“Alright.” She rubbed her face. “... I'm sorry. I'm just exhausted. I haven't slept well in months. I'll be pleasant after I can just rest…”

Hunter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don't be sorry. I was the one being pushy… look, Crosshair isn't going to want to sleep in here for a while. I'll have Wrecker drag the bunk mattress into the hold, and you guys can have your space in there. We're living out of the ship on Pabu.”

She nodded and tiredly limped back towards the hold. “Thank you.” By the time she'd gotten back to the gunner's nest, Wrecker was holding the footlocker and talking to Omega.

“Miri, why don't we mount the crate on the side of the gunner's seat? Mayrin can sleep in here with me.” Omega beamed.

“Babies cry a lot, Omega. Especially at night.”

“That's okay. I'll help you with her.” Omega nodded. “Just teach me how to make bottles and change diapers.”

“You're a good auntie.” Miria smiled. “When she's sleeping through the night we'll do that. But right now, we want her close.” She took the box and linens from Wrecker and went to check on Crosshair.

He was sitting on the floor in the back of the hold with Mayrin in his lap. In his hands he had a collection of fabric and a threaded needle, a pile of old rec clothes and a ripped cushion beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. What are you doing?” She knelt beside him, looking at Mayrin. The baby was draped across her dad's leg on her tummy, content again.

“Making her something.” He shrugged.

Miria inspected the gray and pink fabric. “You're making a Lula?”

“Who do you think made the first one?” He shrugged, cutting a thread with his teeth. “We were cadets. Wrecker cried at night, I wanted to sleep. It seemed like a good idea. 99 found me and helped me make it right. Wrecker never found out. Hunter probably knows. Tech definitely did.”

Miria smiled and watched him flip the fabric shell right side in before he started stuffing it with pillow fluff. “I didn't even know you could sew.”

“It's classified.”

“I'm your fiancée. What else don't I know.” Her head rested on his shoulder, eyes watching his hands move. There was no visible shake now, and she didn’t see any injury. It put her mind to rest somewhat,

“... did I tell you I'm a twin?” He finally asked. “Sometimes in clones, one fetus splits into two in the tube. The longnecks separated them when they noticed… but Tech and I were like that. Before the enhanced mutations, we probably looked identical…”

Miria curled a little tighter to his side. “He loved you, you know.” She finally whispered. “He was as determined to find you as I was on Eriadu…”

Crosshair cleared his throat, putting the last bit of stuffing in the plushie and sewing it closed. “I know.” He finally murmured.

They looked up as Wrecker brought them a mattress, pillows, and sheets for them. “Aww… she's so little.”

Miria made up Mayrin’s bed and let Crosshair tuck her and her new plushie in while she made them up a place to sleep. Tomorrow they could worry about privacy and comfort… but tonight, as soon as the two of them laid down and curled into each other they were asleep. It was the best rest either of them had gotten since the night before they landed on Kaller.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #crosshair #star wars #fanfic #caught in the crosshairs

3 notes · View notes

eruden-writes · 2 years

Note

I'm not saying I forgot about Maktov, but what i am saying is thank you for that very hot reminder. If you're still taking the requests maybe 30, 31 and 69 for Thalia and Maktov

Smut Prompt List Located Here.

Give me some numbers + an OC of mine (or a monster you want to read about and I'll make a new OC.)

I have a backlog already. Like six. I'll try to get to them all, but it may take some time, between my other works.

😈😈😈

30. “don’t be gentle”

31. “i’ve never want to fuck you more than i do now”

69. “if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

😈😈😈

“If you interrupt me one more time, Thalia, so help me…” Maktov looked up from his laptop, glaring at his girlfriend. He had been trying to type up an essay for a class for the last hour and so far had only gotten a sentence.

“So help you, what?” Thalia grinned from across the table. She had her own cheeks cupped in her hands, her elbows braced on the table as her foot - released from the sneakers she wore - skirted up Maktov’s leg again. The teasing grin on her lips widened, feeling his heated member twitch against her socked foot.

She’d been antagonizing him with footsie since they got to the library. It didn’t help that the subject wasn’t one he was particularly interested in. There were many things he’d rather be doing, than struggling to put words onto a document. And right now, one of those options presented itself in front of him as Thalia.

Still, he should be concentrating on his schoolwork.

Trying to channel the person he was before Thalia, he wearily sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but it’s driving me nuts.”

“You’re just really cute when you’re focusing,” laughed Thalia, glancing around the library. She knew she was being a bit unfair, a bit too salacious for public, but - as with going back to college at her age - she was having fun capturing heart-thrumming moments with Maktov. Acting too daring for their own age.

The two of them had settled far in a corner, in a section rarely frequented by other students. She caught evidence of Maktov’s shadows deepening the shade around them.

When it was obvious there wasn’t anyone around to see, she slipped to the opposite side of the booth. Right up against Maktov’s side. The shadows he used to conceal his true form grazed lightly over her skin, a familiar soft chill in their touch.

He tensed with her directly beside him, casting her a sidelong look. One of her arms looped around his, her free hand fingered the buttons of his button-up as it dropped southward. Just as her fingers made it to the bulge growing in his pants, Maktov had enough.

He reached over, snapping the lid to his laptop shut with a click of finality.

And then the world around them pitched into darkness.

Thalia yelped, clenching her eyes shut as the sensation of movement spun around her. Being a shadow demon, Maktov could shadow walk. Although, she wasn’t aware he could do it from a sitting position.

She hoped he’d had the sense to also bring all of their stuff with them.

When the sense of motion stopped and she opened her eyes, it was still pitch black. During transit, he’d scooped her up in his arms, holding her bridal style in an effort to keep her from dropping heavily on landing.

“Where are we?” Thalia breathed, straining to look around. She thought she caught deeper shadows, silhouettes, of shelving. Straining, she listened for familiar sounds or noises and, while there were some far off, she couldn’t pinpoint any close by.

“A supply closet on campus,” Maktov answered, swinging Thalia from his arms and forcefully pressing her, face first, against a wall. One hand held the back of Thalia’s neck firmly, the other shoving up the skirt of her dress. Unseen shadow tendrils looped beneath the sides of her underwear, tugging them down to her ankles. She gasped, even though she was completely used to the feathery touch of his shades.

Thalia’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, a light reedy whimper threatening to spill from her throat as she felt one of the tendrils brush against her folds.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.” His voice was low and rough, as if she had been teasing him for days.

“I think you said that last time, and the time before, and the time before.” Thalia laughed at his words, amused and carnal heat warming her cheeks. Her own hands braced against the wall as she turned her head. The coolness of the wall burned her cheek and she could see anything, though she sensed Maktov’s positioning.

His hands were on the move. The hand at the back of her neck shifted to her chest as he stooped over her, pressing his chest to her back. His long fingers splayed wide to fondle her tit through the fabric of her dress.

“Fine, I always want to fuck you when you rile me up.” The growl echoed through his chest and into her back, drawing a gasp from her lips. Maktov ducked his head to her throat, gingerly raking his teeth over her skin. “Better?”

“Definitely more accurate,” Thalia choked out, still trying to muffle the moans and groans threatening to spill from her lips. The rough way he was groping at her breast, the fact they were still on campus and in danger of being found, elicited a pleasurable prickle along her whole body. Tendrils ghosted up her legs, like phantom snakes, threatening to tease and taunt her further.

Maktov gave a growl. His free hand traversed down her front, those long fingers homing in on her clit. Thalia jerked and whimpered as two of his fingers stroked through her lower lips, moistening his fingertips, before playing with the little nub of nerves.

“Don’t be gentle with me,” she gasped, delighting in how his frustration-tinged ministrations hit just a little harder, rougher, than Maktov’s usual touches.

His only response was the sudden thrust of his hips, his cock buried deep in one stroke. A sharp inhale left her lips, her body rocking forward as a deep-throated purring snarl left Maktov. He’d choose burying himself in her searing softness, her intoxicating slick, any day over anything else. It felt like her body melted around him, before reforming just to clench tight around his cock, to milk him of cum.

Thalia’s back arched to and fro, her hands clawing at the wall in front of her as Maktov began a merciless pace. His girth stretching her, friction licking along all her nerves as he sawed back and forth. His length plunging deep, sending echoing ripples of pleasure into her core.

She was lost in her gasping breaths, her soft little obscenities. It was obvious Thalia was attempting to remain quiet, but a small voice in Maktov was determined to get her to scream. She shifted a little, bending forward and pushing herself up on her toes, further to offer herself further to the shadow demon. The position gave herself a little more leverage to bounce back against his thrusting cock, as well.

It was only when both of his hands grabbed hard at her hips, she realized Maktov had even more in store.

The thoughts in her brain scratched, like a record, when she felt it. Thick, hot turgid flesh drew out and something else pressed forward. Strangely cool, compared to the heat that filled her seconds earlier. Writhing, throbbing, and - as she whimpered in frustration - hard to clench onto.

Just as quick as it entered, it drew back, and soon his cock - hotter, warmer, more filling - plunged to replace it.

He was alternating between his dick and a shadow tendril, Thalia realized as she bit hard on her lower lip to keep her groans quiet. Fat lot of good it was going to do, she realized. Maktov’s lips were at her ear, moaning and grunting as his cock and tendril synchronized. Against her throbbing clit, his fingers circled, hard and fast.

The odd hot-cold of his penetrations, the way his moans echoed down her spine, how his fingers brought so much pleasure it almost hurt. All of it sunk deep in Thalia’s core, making a knot of ecstasy tighten.

And he could feel it. Her body thrummed around his cock, his tendril. Clenched, tightened, heated. Trembles coasted along her body, making his tighten and warm further. When Thalia’s thighs began to tremble, he knew she was close.

With his fingers parting the hood of her clit, Maktov rocked harder against Thalia. Until his heavy, hot sac bounced against the sensitive, raw nub of nerves. With each impact, Thalia cried out - no longer able to choke down the sounds - and she rollicked against him.

When she came, Thalia arched forward, tossing her head back. The scream would have been a delicious one, Maktov knew, but he was also aware of their setting. Another tendril slapped across her lips, quieting her and playing with her tongue as her body shook from tremors. Thalia sobbed against the shadow, monumental heat and pressure exploding inside her as her juices spilled.

As her body tightened around his cock, too tightly to draw back, Maktov gave a few shorter, desperate thrusts, before his own climax washed over him. With a groaning grunt, he gave a final heave into Thalia, before his dick pulsed and spilled white-hot seed into her. Thalia whimpered once more, her legs shaking as she tried to push up against him. Hot rivulets of cum dribbled down her inner thighs, taunting her hormones with reignition.

Over her, against her ear, Maktov panted. He stayed planted in her pussy, delighting the fluttery way her muscles clenched at him, trying to milk every last drop from him. Every so often, he’d roll his hips forward, just to hear Thalia gasp and whimper, watch her rock hungrily back against him.

Though he wasn’t as exasperated as before, Maktov wove dryness into his tone, “Can I write my essay now?”

To that, Thalia only breathlessly laughed. Maktov groaned in return, the laughter making her pussy clutch around his cock to such a painfully delicious beat.

They might have to stay in the supply closet a little longer.

#exo writing #exophilia #exo smut #shadow demon #shadow demon x human #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #teeth #thalia #maktov #answered #btw maktov and thalia are from Teeth #a completed story #if you're new to my stuff #I have a masterlist :3

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applesontheground · 2 years

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no need to brave it all alone 🐖

I’ll be there.

here’s a backlog project i finally decided to tie up! idk why i didn’t finish this, maybe it’s because it’s very similar to a tommy one-shot i wrote, but hey, take the bubba version of that because i can never get enough of either of them!! ♡

SFW | Word Count: 1,783 | Bubba Sawyer x GN Reader

contains canon typical/blood+chainsaw violence, reader getting threatened with a gun, hints at kidnapping/Stockholm Syndrome

“I’m gonna ask you one more time ‘bout what the hell is going on around here…”

The mouth of the woman’s handgun had set between your eyes before you even processed the sound of it loading, let alone what she had said. You instinctively jerked back but it followed, a sickly heat beginning to creep from your stomach and up your body. You stared far into the beyond for a long pause, doing your best to not let your breathing audibly pick up. Finally, your eyes slid up to her and you frowned hard as the words came slow and dry.

“I…I don’t know-”

“Don’t.” The lip had been pressed delicately at first, but at the beginnings of your denial it started to dig into the skin of your forehead. You allowed her to push you back against the chair that she had made you sit in, your entire form shuddering to the rush of nerves that now strained under the cold metal.

Your face twitched into a grimace, swallowing the urge to beg as she spat, “You damn well know ‘what the hell’. You know,” She went on, her hand beginning to shake slightly as she spoke, “Either you’re the one killing all of us with the chainsaw, or you know who’s doin’ it.”

Holding your deep inhale, your eyes fell to the spatters of blood over the hem of your shirt, seeped into the lap of your pants and mingling onto your palms where you had set them. It looked awful, but she hadn’t seen you do anything – save for catch the body that had exerted all this onto you while falling at your feet. Your hands weren’t clean, but your actions had been as far as things were concerned. Still, she was afraid, she had a gun, and she had made you sit in the damn chair until she could figure out what was going on. The only noise in the room, the quaint lobby of the gas station, was the firepit burning in the corner.

“I told you. He just f-fell on me after running in here, cursing up a storm.” Your eyes shot to the corpse under the table, a couple feet away from the toe of your boot. “I have no goddamn clue who did that to him.” You stammered, jaw locking and making it hard to speak clearly as you stared at her from behind the barrel of the pistol. She frowned hard at you, eyes trying to break your expression with the sheer weight of a heavy brow and the way she occasionally nudged against your head.

“I know the [man/woman/type] who’s in charge when I see [him/her/’em].” She suddenly muttered, and you sighed shakily because that was so far from the truth.

When people came through and unknowingly stayed past their welcome, they often ran into the Sawyers before they did you. There were enough proxies to keep you from even catching a glimpse of strangers unless you were helping the oldest of the clan, Drayton, down at the station – like you had been today. The pattern was simple. He stayed here, greeting people, offering service, and then sending them on their way. They usually kept to their own, didn’t explore unless they were really squirrely.

God forbid they find their way down to the house, but if they did, they’d run into the youngest. Then, between here and there, the twin middle kids were either palling around at the local graveyard or doing anything to get away from it. You didn’t blame them, knowing there was nothing around besides acres of dry farmland and large fauna that felt as though it bubbled you in, but you also knew better than to ever accompany them. They were good at raising hell with whatever they decided to get in the middle of – including their own home. If Drayton was yelling, it was usually at them. You were always positioned to be somewhere in between the four brothers since being roped in; you were either down at the house or up at the station, and becoming optimized to figure out the work that they needed you for was what got you as far as you did without being maimed.

After Drayton observed that you were rather charismatic, good at making people feel noticed, you found yourself here more often than not. He was not the one you considered yourself the closest with despite spending a decent amount of time with him. It was difficult, even infuriating to a conversation with him unless you were flattering and ready to bend to the will of his opinion and direction. You knew it was best to do what you were told while you were still breathing, so you tolerated his unrestrained insults and harsh tone.

There was only one of them that you’d get close to consider someone you trusted, even if it wasn’t a strong bridge under your feet. When it came to the youngest of the Sawyers, it hadn’t been hard to confuse him when you had first encountered each other. He still got you cornered, and despite the terror that had gripped you by the shoulders and kept your eyes blown open, something in you that wanted to believe in humanity had promptly extended the only hand that you could offer: your physical one, daring to graze the hammer he had been ready to bring down on you. It never hit you; only the weight of his stare, first in stunned shock then in a meek enamoration. You had been prepared for the strange bond between you and him to break just as soon as it had formed – but then again, that had to have been a few months ago at this point.

You don’t know what had actually stopped the business end of that mallet from bashing your brains through your nose, and whose decision it was for it not to happen between then and now. You had felt you’d done well with managing not to get what most people did at the hands of the brothers, but you also supposed it didn’t matter while you were looking to the gun again, trying to see it settled between your eyebrows and letting another nervous shudder out.

You would’ve died out here one way or another, joining the miscellaneous bodies strewn about in elaborate art projects, but there was a strange stroke of irony to realize it wasn’t going to be from the Sawyers.

A creak from outside made your eyes carefully dart towards the back door, but then back to the woman as she spat, “I’on’t have all night now, are you going to help me or not?” You cleared your throat, but kept your voice steady as you asked, “What do you mean by ‘help’?”

“Get me the hell out of here.” Her voice had caved to something more frightened, the pistol once again tapping your skull and making everything echo in the panicking recesses of your mind. “I’m not planning on telling anyone, seeing how close you were to getting me with that damn saw I’ve been hearing all night!”

You took in a deep breath again, another creak coming through the back of your mind while you murmured steadily, “Listen. I’m not the one running around with the chainsaw.”

Her finger settled against the trigger. “I’m not gonna take tha-“

“He is.”

Your eyes once again fell to the back door of the gas station, gritting your teeth as you had picked up on the idle motor that sat with the other miscellaneous noises. She had fallen into an intense tunnel vision, so it had all gone over her head. Her ears were probably already ringing, and with her sights made for nothing but you in that moment she hadn’t felt the looming shadow had been dancing over the screen either, obscure but recognizable to you when your peripherals had noticed them.

On some sort of cue, the motor roared to life, an absolutely splitting noise as the hunk of metal restlessly twisted through the screen window and began dragging downwards, sinking into the wood. It still scared the shit out of you despite the fact that you had seen him do it so many times before, legs hopping up to attempt to press into your chest as your hands gripped the seat of the chair.

You could only imagine how she felt. The gun was taken off your head as the lumbering figure suddenly busted through, but she had made the mistake to still hold it pointed at you. That was all he needed to see. Your breath got caught in your throat as the blade of the chainsaw was swinging inches away from your body in seconds, making both of you scream.

It happened in the span of a few seconds, and just when you were certain you were about to get clipped by the rumble of the blade, the cut of the ferocious shaking of the chain, it was over. She was probably in five different spots, but you tried not to stare. Instead, your vision caught his heaving shoulders, the noise finally falling back to that idle purr.

Your mouth hung open, gripping your knees for dear life as you glanced back and forth between him and the mess on the floor for another breath. When he turned, you choked out in a shallow voice, “You know, Bubba, you could’ve just opened the door.”

He blinked, eyes locking onto you, but finally let out a mutter of frustration and slammed the chainsaw on the counter. In a heartbeat, he was stooping to your level, hands on the sides of your neck and feeling for any tender spots or cuts. Your eyes fluttered as you felt the blood smearing on your skin, touching the backs of his weathered hands.

“Hey,” With a soft voice, you assured him, “She didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.” Catching your breath, relief was washing over now, especially with no one except you two in the room. His eyes caught onto the spot between your brow, and you explained, “She just wasn’t shy with that gun, is all.”

You gasped as he lunged into your stomach, lifting you out of the chair and over his shoulder. The shift of movement, your legs being unburdened coupled with the way his shoulder blade impaled your chest, made you laugh slightly. You caught a mumble under his breath, and quickly argued with him, “Hey, don’t give me that. I would’ve handled it.”

He made a noise akin to a scoff. You sighed back, but then once again felt yourself grin in an ill relief.

Handled you, didn’t I?

#bubba sawyer x reader #leatherface x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #✏️#🐖#can you tell i just want him to throw me around like a sack of potatoes with that last part? lol

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thessalian · 9 months

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Thess vs A Return to Normalcy

Updates from the workplace, and the news is ... for once, not terrible.

See, turns out that Scruffman came in on Sunday, along with the other part-timer (who has been petitioning for more hours and I think she's going to get them at this rate), and really registered the massive dent I made in the backlog. Because seriously, that whole week we went from just under 300 to just under 150 and that was about 95% me. So we're finally back down to the low-mid double digits in terms of the size of the typing queue, and I have a feeling Scruffman had a general sense of, "Ooh. [Thess] did a lot. [Thess] should not have been doing that much, I know that."

Scruffman does not have the best communication skills, mind - especially not over email. He sent an email going, "Give me a bell ASAP" and actually included his number, which I have had stored on my phone for literally years, so I thought there was going to be something urgent and horrible. Because, you may recall, he was going to touch base with me today about potentially having to drag my poor fibro-riddled carcass over to fucking Hampstead owing to lack of bums in seats. I was concerned that this was going to be a call where Issues were brought up.

However, no, this was his way of saying, "I has a concern and want to make sure you're okay after the hours you put in last week". I didn't pull punches, either. He asked how I was doing, which is how he starts all telephone conversations, really, and I just told him, "I seriously overdid it last week". I could hear the gears turning as he was going, "Oh. Yeah. Oh, right" before moving on to the whole thing about the various unexpected absences.

So ... turns out that Violet, Goblin, and Temp are all out at the moment, though Goblin and Temp are apparently coming back on Friday. He's got Other Part-Timer coming in tomorrow, so it's really only Thursday where there might be a requirement for me to come in. But apparently that's only if Scruffman himself takes ill or something else goes entirely to hell. It was pretty clear that he was trying desperately hard not to make me go into the office, particularly after the couple of weeks I've already put in. He also recognised that I do more typing when I'm at home than I do at the office, and then surprised me further by going, "I don't necessarily mean overtime or anything!" like he very much doesn't want me to have to do any more of that either.

So the overall gist is, "Things are back to normal, we will try to manage things without forcing you on to public transport, thank you for all the help and we promise we're not going to make you do too much more of that!" I'm not sure what happens with my overtime - whether it's Time Off In Lieu or actual money, but I think I'll find that out when Head Honcho comes back from his own holidays ... or rather, when I come back from mine because he's away until next week and I'm off next week.

I very much need to be off next week. I haven't fully recovered yet. But at the very least my house is full of nice foods to have that don't require too much in the way of cookery. I did up a pork roast last night so I have leftovers from that. There's a roast chicken that's good in the fridge until Friday, which gives me time to do things with the leftover pork roast and with the duck legs and pork chops I got on sale with this month's grocery shop. But tonight, since I am exhausted (whoever was typing with me today also left me with the longer bullshit - thankfully there were no ten-minute atrocities but if I see one more placenta report this week I'm going to lose my damn mind), it will be leftover roast pork with mashed potato and an asparagus/tenderstem broccoli medley, with an appetiser of gluten-free mozzarella sticks (which, yes, still have the lactose issue but I have Lactaid so I can still have my breaded hot cheese) and possibly a salad. I did actually eat today! Okay, not lunch, but two pieces of gingerbread as breakfast went really well with my morning coffee.

#Thess has a day job #Thess cooks

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neon-dynasty · 1 year

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Gathering Friends

I collect Planeswalker cards. Ever since I opened Sarkhan Vol in a Shards of Alara draft, I've been in love with the card type. It's like calling in a favor from a friend, except instead of getting a ride to the airport, you get dragons.

Look at that card! It may not seem special now, but imagine seeing something like this for the first time. The curved art border, the transparent rules box, the character literally popping out of the frame. It was unlike anything ever seen in the game before, at least outside of joke sets. The introduction of Planeswalkers in Lorwyn was probably the biggest impact on Magic: The Gathering in the franchise's history.

The rules for my collection started off simple: 1) Every printing of every Planeswalker card 2) If there's a premium and a non-premium version of the card, only the non-premium version counts

Then they got a little more complicated as new ways of getting Planeswalker cards came about: 3) Prerelease promos that are identical in every way to their main set counterparts don't count (this would go on to exclude promo pack cards with the foil symbol stamped on the image, as well as reprints with the little symbol on the bottom left of the card) 4) Cards given out as prizes don't count 4b) Heroes of the Realm cards DEFINITELY don't count 5) Lottery cards don't count (1/30 Collector Booster, serialized, other assorted nonsense)

Then came the big one: 6) Special foil treatments do count, so long as they have different collector numbers

That last rule was tough to decide on, because it walked back the lottery stipulation for the foil etched cards in Kamigawa Neon Dynasty. However, the textured foil cards in Double Masters 2022 were different enough from their main set counterparts that it felt right. It's also a very expensive category. As it stands, I can't afford to collect all of those, but we'll see what the future brings.

I'm currently pretty far behind with the collection, missing around 91 out of the 687 currently available Planeswalker cards (excluding 18 cards that land outside of the rules, of which I do own 7). It's mostly a bunch of inexpensive cards, less than ten dollars each, so it's doable. I'm thinking of buying everything worth less than five bucks in one go, and then completing the rest set by set. The last (and only) time I had a complete collection was during Amonkhet, so I'm in no rush.

It's definitely a first world problem, but damn if they don't print FAR too many cards these days. I love collecting these things, but because I don't let it get in the way of my real life, the backlog builds up. It's especially annoying because there are three or more different versions of each Planeswalker card in each set nowadays. I rarely feel the thrill of opening one in a pack anymore, because it's only one of a dozen or more mythic rare cards I need from the set. Phyrexia: All Will Be One is certainly an outlier, but I added thirty-five rows to my spreadsheet in anticipation of the set's release.

One interesting thing about the way the game is now, rotating out of Standard doesn't affect the price of cards very much after a few months. Prices stabilize much more quickly than they used to, and they don't drop as drastically anymore. I no longer feel like I should wait until rotation to clear the backlog a bit.

As a final note, I recently discovered the existence of this card:

It's a prize for Japanese store tournaments. It doesn't count toward the collection (though I do have the other three alternate art promos in this series), but I want it very badly. I've been trying to figure out how to scrounge up a couple hundred bucks to get this card, and feeling ridiculous because there's no excuse for spending that much money on a Magic card, especially one I'll never play.

I enjoy collecting these things, even during times when I'm not actively playing the game with friends. It maintains my connection to the hobby, and gives me a reason to keep up with the story and the game mechanics. On the flip side, sometimes I feel trapped by what can seem like a monumental endeavor. I often wish I could divert the attention I spend on this elsewhere.

In the end, though, Planeswalkers are the reason I still play one of my favorite games in the world. If I hadn't started this collection, I would certainly have moved on from Magic years ago. For something that brings me so much joy, I'm glad I've been able to stick with it for all this time.

#mtg #magic the gathering #planeswalkers

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lyranova · 1 year

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Children of the Future: The World to Come

Chapter 6: What the Future Holds

Hiya guys! I’m so sorry this has taken so long to get out, I’ve been trying to work on my 500 event and IRL things but I hope this was worth the wait also thank you all for being so patient! This is more family orientated and it shows what squads the girls will go into when they get older 😁, so i hope you all enjoy~!

Taglist: @thoughtfullyrainynightmare @crazyclownthanos @acacia-may @loosesodamarble

Word Count: 2,730

Warnings: None

———

“ Mr. Wizard King sir, are you listening?” A voice suddenly called out from across the room, pulling the Wizard King out of his thoughts.

Asta Silva, the current Wizard King, slowly turned around to face the young woman standing in the doorway. He smiled a bit sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“ Sorry, I was lost in thought for a second,” Asta told the young man with a laugh. “ Could you say that again Esmée?”

“ I asked, will your daughters be participating in the Entrance Exams or will they just go straight into their squads of choice like most Nobles?” Esmée Francois, the daughter of Marx Francois, asked as she walked towards the middle of the room.

Just like her father was Julius’s assistant, Esmée was now Asta’s assistant. She had just recently stepped into her role as his former assistant, William Vangeance, had decided to officially retire from all Kingdom duties. She was very much like her father; she was strict, no nonsense, and kept Asta in line.

“ Hm, I’m not too sure. Right now Brielle’s the only one old enough to actually take the exam.” Asta muttered in thought, he and Noelle hadn’t had the chance to ask their girls about it yet, but maybe they should?

Brielle had just turned 15 in September, Mizuki had turned 13 in January, and Kaiyo would be 12 in August. As Asta thought about his daughters' ages it suddenly dawned on him just how much time had passed and how it seemed like they were growing up so quickly.

“ I guess tonight we’ll have to have a family meeting about it.” Asta said before he turned around to look at Esmée.

“ Well you’d better do it soon sir, the entrance exam is only a couple of weeks away.” Esmée told him as she crossed her arms, his eyes suddenly widened.

“ It’s in a couple of weeks?!” He shouted, causing the blue haired mage to cover her ears.

“ Yes sir, so might I suggest-?” She began but was cut off.

“ I’m so excited! I wonder if there’ll be any new magic types there, maybe there’ll be a new time mage or maybe someone from Hino that decided to come and try out!” Asta began to ramble excitedly as his eyes shone brightly like stars in the night, Esmée sighed and shook her head.

“ Sir…you do realize you won’t be able to go see the exam in person right?”

“ Huh? Why not? I’ve been going to the exam in disguise every year since I became Wizard King.” Asta said with a tilt of his head, suddenly Esmée glared at him.

The blue haired woman walked over to him, grabbed a stack of papers that were on a nearby table, and slammed them down onto Asta’s desk, causing the older man to jump.

“ Because you’ll be too busy doing all this backlogged paperwork, you see Lord Vangeance may’ve let you get away with a lot of things, but I’m not like him. You’ll do all the paperwork and other Wizard King duties that you’ve neglected over the past 3 years.” Esmée told him with a wicked grin on her face that made a chill go down Asta’s spine.

Now he understood why Noelle chose her to be his assistant over her brother Amrel.

——

After completing a month's worth of paperwork in just a single day, Asta was finally able to make his way to his living quarters. All Wizard Kings had a residence in the castle, and he was no exception. But the only difference was Asta’s residence was just a bit bigger than most of the previous Wizard Kings was, and that was because he moved his family in as well.

Asta slowly opened the door and looked around, he didn’t see any of his daughters around, nor did he see his wife. Maybe she was out on a mission? Or was she working somewhere in the Castle? He shrugged, oh well, at least he’d have a little bit of quiet time to take a nap.

“ There you are Bakasta.” He suddenly heard from behind him, Asta jumped at the sudden voice before he turned around and saw a familiar face staring back at him.

“ Don’t sneak up on me like that Noelle!” Asta shouted, and Noelle frowned a bit.

“ You didn’t sense me behind you with your Ki?” She asked curiously, and Asta shook his head.

“ No, I guess it’s because I’m so tired.” Asta said with a slightly tired laugh, Noelle nodded, she could only imagine just how tired he was. After all, the Wizard King had a lot more duties than Asta realized.

“ Papa, you’re home!” Kaiyo, Noelle and Asta’s youngest daughter, shouted gleefully as she ran out from behind her mother and jumped into her fathers arms.

“ Kaiyo! I’ve missed you!” Asta’s fatigue seemed to melt away the minute he saw his youngest, he instantly perked up and a bright smile appeared on his face. He picked her up and held her in his arms.

“ Did you have a good day?” He asked, and the young girl nodded. The three walked into their residence, and they all began to talk about their day. Noelle and Kaiyo had decided to go shopping in town for the day since Noelle would be gone for a few days on a mission, while Mizuki and Brielle had left earlier to do…something.

“ You don’t know where they went?” Asta asked, and Noelle shook her head.

“ Well, Brielle said something about going to the Black Bulls, while Mizuki said something about going downstairs. But after that, I don’t know where they went.” Noelle admitted, and as the words left her mouth the door to their residence opened and in walked Brielle and Mizuki.

Brielle had a few bandages on her arms and face, as well as some dust and dirt, her clothes were wrinkled and a bit disheveled. Meanwhile Mizuki looked exactly as she did before she left, except she had an annoyed look on her face.

“ We’re back!” Brielle announced excitedly, and Noelle instantly jumped up from where she was sitting.

“ Where have you been, and what the heck happened to you?!” Noelle shouted in concern as she ran over to her eldest daughter, Asta followed behind with Kaiyo in tow.

“ This idiot here went and got herself into some trouble with Hikari and the other Legacy Bulls!” Mizuki said with irritation lacing each word, Brielle turned to look at her sister.

“ I did not! Hikari, Aloys, Ezio, me, and the others went out into town to shop and hang out when these stuck up nobles decided to talk crap about everyone. So we just put them in their place and showed them that the Bulls aren’t a squad to take lightly!” Brielle said proudly as she smiled widely. “ It was sooo cool! One of those nobles tried to use their fire magic on me, so Herz and I used our Counter magic, and we showed him not to mess with us!”

“ That sounds so cool Brielle, you really showed him!” Asta said excitedly as his eyes shone brightly, but as soon as the father and daughter tried to gush more about what happened they suddenly felt someone grab their ears and tug on them.

When they looked they saw it was Noelle, and if looks could kill the two would be dead 10x over.

“ I think mom’s angry.” Kaiyo said softly as she, Mizuki, Herz, and Liebe all watched Noelle drag the two over to a pair of chairs and began to shout and scold them for how reckless they were acting.

——

After Brielle and Asta had gotten scolded by Noelle for nearly ten minutes the family eventually sat down to eat dinner. They talked and chatted a bit as they ate, it was a typical Silva family dinner. Except Noelle noticed that Asta was acting a little…odd. It was like he had something he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. She had only seen him like this a few times in the past, and usually it was when something important was on his mind.

“ Asta, is everything okay?” She asked softly as she set her silverware down, her husband looked at her as he was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts. Their daughters all stopped eating and looked at him as well, Asta suddenly rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“ Yeah everythings fine, things are just getting a little crazy with the entrance exam coming up.” Asta admitted sheepishly, and Noelle nodded.

“ I forgot that it was coming up, it’s in a couple of weeks right? I expect things will be pretty chaotic for all the squads.” Noelle said as took a sip of her water, and Asta nodded in agreement.

“ Yeah, it’ll be especially hectic the days after the exam.” Asta said, he suddenly looked at his daughters, trying to figure out how to subtly ask them what their thoughts were.

Noelle noticed the look on his face and how he was watching their daughters, and a soft smile appeared on her face.

“ What do you guys think about the exam? Are any of you planning to take the exam?” Noelle asked curiously. Asta gave his wife a thankful look before turning back to their daughters.

They watched as thoughtful looks crossed all three of their daughter’s faces, apparently they hadn’t thought about it much themselves. He smiled softly before he gently tapped his fingers on the table to get their attention.

“ It’s okay if you guys don’t know what you want to do yet, there’s no rush and you guys don’t need to feel pressured into making a decision right now. Sometimes we don’t figure out what we want to do or who we want to be until a lot later in life, and that’s okay! Just know that whatever decision you all make,” Asta reached over to grab his wife’s hand and held it gently in his. “ Your mom and I will be right behind you, supporting you 100%!”

“ Your fathers right,” Noelle began as she gently squeezed his hand. “ No matter what you guys decide to do, and no matter when you guys decide to do it, you’ll have our full support. As long as it’s nothing illegal anyway.” She added, half joking half seriously.

“ What if,” Mizuki started softly as she looked from the table to her parents. “ What if we don’t want to be Magic Knights, but something else…would that be alright?” She asked softly, Noelle and Asta looked at each other for a moment before nodding at her.

“ Of course that’s alright! Whatever you want to do, we’ll support you.” Asta said warmly as he smiled at her.

“ As long as it isn’t anything illegal.” Noelle reiterated, causing everyone to chuckle.

“ In that case…I want to be a Magic Knight Healer. I want to work here in the Castle with Owen treating Magic Knights!” Mizuki said quickly and with her closed tightly.

Noelle, Asta, Brielle, and Kaiyo looked at her before looking at each other. That had been quite unexpected, especially considering she had previously said she enjoyed going out on missions with her friends and occasionally fighting against them in mock battles. But, if her heart was pulling her in a different direction, then she should follow it.

“ I think that’s a great and wise choice Mizuki, we need more amazing healers here in the Castle, and you’re smart enough to compete with Owen himself if you wanted. Besides, now your father and I can see you whenever we want!” Noelle said cheerfully and Asta nodded in agreement.

“ Yeah, and you’re always good at patching me and Kaiyo up, so I know you’ll be a great healer Mizuki, and if I ever get hurt or injured I’ll only ever ask for you!” Brielle told her sister with a bright smile and a thumbs up, and Kaiyo nodded in agreement.

“ What about you Brielle? What do you want to do?” Asta asked his eldest daughter, she turned to look at him, her bright smile still in place.

“ I want to be a Magic Knight, to be more accurate, I want to be a Black Bull!” She announced cheerfully. “ I gave it a lot of thought, and I can’t imagine being in any other squad!”

“ You know Captain Yami won’t go easy on you just because you’re our daughter right? In fact, he may be harder on you because you’re our child.” Noelle pointed out, and her daughter nodded firmly.

“ I know that, and I’m fully prepared for it! I’ll work hard, I’ll never give up, and eventually I’ll surpass my limits just like you guys did!” Brielle shouted excitedly, and Asta smiled cheerfully.

“ Yeah that’s my girl!” Asta shouted cheerfully, causing the others at the table to shake their heads at the two’s loudness.

“ What about you Kaiyo? What do you want to be?” Noelle asked kindly, she watched as her youngests eyes danced around in thought.

She knew her youngest wasn’t very confident in herself or her abilities, so Noelle wasn’t quite sure if the girl knew what she wanted to be yet and she didn’t want to push her to be anything. It took Noelle a long time herself to decide what she wanted to be, and Kaiyo seemed to be the same way.

“ I…I think I want to be a Magic Knight too…but…” Kaiyo trailed off nervously. “ But I don’t think I can do it…my Magic’s still out of control, even though Uncle Nozel’s been helping me, so I don’t think I can be a Magic Knight…” she added sadly as she stared at the table.

“ My magic was out of control for a long time and I still became a Magic Knight,” Noelle told her kindly. “ and your Magic isn’t as out of control as it used to be, you’ve gotten stronger, and you have your wand to help you better control it if you need it. You can be a Magic Knight Kaiyo, even with little control of your magic, and we’ll support you.” Noelle repeated, and she knew that she sounded like a broken record. Constantly repeating that she and Asta would support their daughters, but she just wanted them to know that they cared and only wanted them to do what their hearts told them to do.

“ If…If I did become a Magic Knight…would it matter what squad I decided to be in?” Kaiyo asked, which mildly surprised Noelle and Asta. They kind of assumed she would want to be in the Black Bulls like Brielle, but for her to ask that question meant she had another squad in mind.

“ No it doesn’t matter! You can be in any squad you want, Kaiyo.” Asta told her with a gentle smile on his face, and the young girl finally looked up at her parents.

“ I…want to be in the Silver Eagles with Uncle Nozel…that way I can continue my training and I think I’ll be more comfortable there and…I don’t want to take the Magic Knights entrance exam, I’m scared I might hurt everyone there.” Kaiyo told them, and Asta and Noelle nodded.

“ I’ll talk to Nozel and see what he thinks, but I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you in the Silver Eagles.” Noelle told her, and the young girl smiled a bit more before.

As the conversations turned to lighter topics and Herz and Liebe jumped in and began to tease the girls about how they would likely have a more difficult time than their parents since a lot was expected out of them, but the girls argued that they were up to the challenge and would do just as well as their parents!

Asta and Noelle watched them all in content, their girls were growing up and would all soon leave the nest to go to their squads. Of course they still had a few years with Kaiyo and Mizuki, but Brielle would possibly be leaving in a couple of weeks and even though the two were sad, they were also happy that she would get to stretch her wings and fly a bit.

Noelle suddenly rested her head on her husbands shoulder and smiled, Asta blushed a bit but discreetly moved to kiss the top of her head as they continued watching their small and rambunctious family.

———

Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰~!

#black clover fanfiction #children of the future the world to come #astelle #asta x noelle #noelle x asta #asta black clover #noelle silva #oc; brielle #oc; mizuki #oc; kaiyo

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bam-stroker · 1 year

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So are you willing to give out some details about this monster romance you're working on?

Yes yes! So I have a longer term project as well as some things that lean more towards novellas/one shots.

Longer term project: Royal Rogue

Basically it's a high fantasy setting. Valentine is the nonbinary human child of the king and queen of a kingdom blessed by the Sun, and they're trying to run away. So they join a thieves guild to learn how to be sneaky. They end up being sent off to steal from an unknown place in the mountains near a magical forest. And uh oh! It turns out a dragon lives there. His name is Asrir, and he is a very bookish type and they both kind of connect over not being accepted for their differences.

It's a slow burn friends to lovers - like they are out here in yearning city for a good 25k haha

It's been a slow project because tbh I really wasn't sure if I wanted to end up writing smut in it or not. So finally made a decision of yes on that and I'm plunking my way through! TBH I picture it being a series - BUT gotta pace myself and finish the first book before I go chomping off more then I can chew

Novellas/One shots:

The novellas / one shots lean more into just monster fucker erotica stuff. I've got one based on the Rusalka myth already made.

Looking to do a fairy one, and maybe a djinn or lesbian vaquera werewolf one too. I just feel very inspired by folklore/folktales so those ones are more where the spirit moves me and not set in stone.

Basically I'm building up my repertoire before I end up releasing stuff so that I have a backlog of stuff before I release things! So probably next year is when I'd finally give it a go on putting them out there to buy.

#romance novel project #royal rogue #ask spooky #monster fuckery #suggestive

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snowbellewells · 2 years

Text

CS Heatwave Fic: “Melting for You”

This fic is meant to join the collection of fics prompted by the heatwave temperatures these last couple weeks. I’m no great pro with the steamy/smutty scenes, but this gets fairly close towards the end - and tosses some hints toward that line in the middle as well. Is there an almost-M (or T+) type rating? Anyway, this is post season six timeframe - divergent, but not necessarily AU. There’s no reason it couldn’t have happened (if Emma and Killian were given two seconds of peace and privacy once they were married! ;p) Hope you enjoy, and I’d love to hear what you think!

Also, thanks a million to @zaharadessert and @winterbythesea for offering some feedback and suggestions on titles - and commiserating with me on how hard choosing a title can be! And thanks to the lovely fandom friends on the @captainswanmoviemarathon Discord who came up with the heatwave fics idea in the first place!

Can also be found on AO3

“Melting for You”

by: @snowbellewells

Even indoors the air was heavy and oppressive - especially for June - and Emma Swan gave herself a mental pat on the back for even being out of her recliner nearest the air conditioning vent in the old, high-ceiling house that could be expensive to sufficiently cool. She tended to covet a day like this - off from the station, Henry out with friends, no one needing anything from her, and a backlog of her favorite crime procedurals ready in her streaming queue - chuckling to herself about deserving some sort of Savior Above and Beyond medal for being in the kitchen tackling a sink of dirty dishes.

Normally, she’d just put them in the dishwasher, but the last clean load had never been taken back out and put away - one of Henry’s designated jobs - and her husband, loving and fond of her son as he was, was still a captain through and through, determined for each member of his crew to pull their weight. Emma, on the other hand, while not as worried about the degree of neatness Killian would prefer, was just stubborn enough not to do her kid’s chores for him. Henry had been busy lately; finals, college applications and other genuine responsibilities taking up the bulk of his time, but she trusted him to get to it when he could. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, the real reason she didn’t put the clean dishes away was because she didn’t understand Killian’s precise method for storing all the various pots, pans, containers, and baking sheets; inevitably, when she tried to unload the dishwasher alone, she ended up with numerous things she couldn’t find a place for strewn across the kitchen’s center island and more of a mess than she’d started with.

It just wasn’t worth the hassle.

So, here she stood, sweating over a sink full of hot, soapy water, feeling loose tendrils of hair begin to curl around her face in the humidity, just trying to make sure they had enough clean spoons and to-go mugs for their coffee the next morning and cursing the 90 degree heat and the ceiling fan not doing an adequate job of getting the cooler air to her as her shirt began to feel stuck to her skin between her shoulder blades.

At least she had a good view.

Emma smirked to herself, eyes lighting up once again as she refocused from the charred bits of pizza crust she’d slightly burnt onto a pan and back out the window over the sink. She wasn’t sure how her husband could stand it outside, and he’d been at it for at least a couple hours at this point, but as she took in the scene before her, Emma couldn’t help thinking that at this moment, his discomfort was a cross she was willing to bear.

Standing up straighter, running her forearm across her face, she dazedly allowed her hands to drip across the counter as she studied him more closely, almost forgetting where she was. Killian was wearing dark, stained denim jeans he often used when out of doors and not on his ship, along with a thin, gray T-shirt, stretched and faded with holes in places, but more than serviceable for working around the house and yard. She could see the muscles in his back and shoulders straining and bunching through the nearly threadbare material easily, and hardly realized she’d unconsciously licked her lips at the decadent sight.

As she continued to shamelessly spy on her fine pirate, Killian stretched his arms up overhead, clearly working out some of the kinks from his exertions, then to her eternal delight, raised the hem of his T-shirt to mop sweat from his brow. She could see a band of tanned, flushed skin on his lower back, unknowingly tantalizing her as she stared, unable to blink or look away. Then, as if that hadn’t been enough, he slowly peeled the taut fabric up his torso and off over his head before tossing it to the side.

She knew her breath went a bit shallow at the sight of his whole back bared to her while Killian stood for several long moments catching his breath. At this point, her sudsy hands were clutching the edge of the sink while her knees went watery at the show he was putting on inadvertently. The expanse of his skin was marred in places by lines almost white from the time gone by since they had been inflicted, and high on his left shoulder a compass sat, bearing the name ‘Liam’ along its edge, while the dark tentacles of a kraken curled surreptitiously along his rib cage on his right side. The dark and light took not one iota from his swarthy perfection though, not to her eyes. In fact, if she had been overwarm before, she was burning up now; the sight of his whole torso practically glistening in the bright afternoon sun making her weak. She was seized with the almost uncontrollable desire to go out there and started licking the salty moisture from his skin with her tongue.

If she didn’t know better, she would think he was purposely trying to tempt her.

Wait… did she know better? Emma paused, tilted her head to one side in thought. She’d told him when he’d gone outside that she was kicking back to watch some tv. But Killian could be scarily prescient of everyone around him, alert without even trying. Did he know she was watching; and, if so, was he teasing her?

Eyes narrowing, she thought for a second, feeling more than a bit devious as she considered her rapscallion husband and just what mischief he might have on his mind. She could almost picture him scoffing about getting her riled up; his brow arched just so, tongue poking against the inside of his lower lip, practically leering at her, knowing she couldn’t resist him at the best of times, and absolutely using it to his advantage. What she needed, Emma decided, a twinkle coming into her eye as the perfect plan of attack took shape in her mind, was to get him back, while appearing completely innocent. Get him flustered and as hot and bothered as he was making her. Turning off the tap and quickly drying her hands on a towel nearby, she grabbed a large glass from the cabinet to her left, then opened the freezer for ice - and her chosen secret weapon.

Strolling outside, Emma tried her best to school her expression, knowing a twitch of mischievous humor or devilish twinkle would give her away. Her pirate still read her like a book - knew her every feature more minutely than anyone else had ever bothered to try - even more so after years together. He’d catch any slip and be on the alert.

Killian turned to look at her, just as she drew up beside him. Reaching out to trail the hand holding an ice cold glass of water down his damp, overheated bicep, she fought to hold in the smirk as her husband let his head fall backwards, nearly growling in pleasure. The unrelenting heat had the glass already covered in condensation, and the warmth radiating from Killian as well after working so long in the sun, meant the cool moisture had to feel heavenly.

Eyeing her with both adoration and curiosity, her captain made Emma’s own inner thermostat raise a tick as well when he licked the perspiration from his upper lip. “May I assume that’s for me, Love?”

“Yep,” she replied, letting the ‘p’ pop distinctly, just as he often did when alluring her with his speech. “I thought it was time to bring you some water. Can’t have my True Love getting dehydrated, after all.”

He raised a brow, as if wondering why she seemed so enthusiastic, but he took the glass from her eagerly, seemingly deciding just to accept the gesture with thanks. Of course, as his Adam's apple bobbed with his greedy swallows of the cool, refreshing liquid, it was Emma who found her throat working desperately to gain more air.

For a second, she almost forgot her plan in the wake of the tantalizing distraction he made, before she regained focus and hurried to unwrap what she held in her other hand.

While Killian’s eyes were still closed savoring the last of his drink, Emma quickly stuffed the wrapper of an ice cream bar in her cutoff jean pockets and began to lick the chocolate coating, enjoying the sweet taste, but also waiting for the moment she would feel the sizzle of his eyes on her once more.

“Here you go, Love,” Killian’s voice spoke up as she felt him turn toward her, just as she enveloped the whole tip of the ice cream bar between her lips. “That truly hit the sp - “

His words died on his tongue as he got an eyeful of what she was doing, though Emma avoided looking back just yet, knowing the glee she was feeling would give her away. ‘Gotcha, Pirate!’ she couldn’t help gloating in her mind.

Humming slightly as if she was only focused on how delicious her frozen treat tasted, Emma was inwardly high fiving herself after shooting a quick sidelong glance at her husband to see him looking as though he had swallowed his own tongue. The empty glass he’d moved to hand back to her fell to the ground from his suddenly lax fingers, and when she heard him speak again, his words were a hoarse whisper. “Gods above, Swan, are you trying to kill me?”

“Of course not,” she chirped happily, winking at him with what she hoped was breezy nonchalance. “Just enjoying some refreshment myself.” She then popped the treat back into her mouth, pointedly hollowing her cheeks a bit, then pulling it back out while letting her tongue trail along the rapidly melting chocolate coating.

‘And now the final touch,’ she thought, turning her head back toward the porch and deliberately putting more swing in her hips than normal. “Bring that glass with you when you come back in, okay Babe?” she tossed over her shoulder, with one brief backward glance that she hoped managed to be sultry.

Congratulating herself, even as just the short amount of time she’d been outside was beginning to make her sweat too and the vanilla insides of her ice cream began to drip down her hand, Emma had nearly reached the outdoor water spigot and attached hose by the porch steps, which seemed a good place to finish her dessert and wash off the stickiness, when she heard heavy steps coming up behind her rapidly. ‘Right on cue,’ her mind practically crowed.

In the next moment, Killian’s strong, muscled arm snaked around her stomach and jerked her back firmly against the front of his body. Holding her tightly, his teeth nipped her earlobe before he purred a seductive warning against her neck. “It’s cruel to tease a man like that, Minx - not if you don’t intend to share a taste.”

Impishly, Emma held up the rapidly shrinking bit of ice cream left on the stick, as if in offering. However, when he dove in to swipe his tongue up the side of her hand and engulf both the melting treat and the tips of her fingers in the warm, wet cavern of his mouth, she willingly let go. His eyes were pure blue flames that wouldn’t allow her to blink, turning her bones and sinew to liquid more than the heat outside could have ever managed.

Emma was leaning into him breathlessly, mind going blank at the way he pulled his lips back off her fingers, laving her skin playfully as he leaned away, the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes along with the heat telling her all too well that he knew what he was doing. Winking devilishly, he stepped away slightly, making her nearly stumble as her body strained to follow, a soft whine leaving her throat completely against her will.

“Hmm…” he purred, baiting her now, sensing victory no doubt. “Just as I thought - delicious.”

Emma’s misfiring synapses crackled back to life as he stood there, just out of reach, clearly waiting for his wife’s next move, and almost certainly counting on her being unable to resist.

Her chest heaved, trying to get a full breath and bring herself under control. She’d had the upper hand! She was so sure she’d have him begging - just this once. But she was flushed and sweating every bit as much as Killian now. That sinful way he was tracing her bare legs with his gaze, and the feel of his mouth on her, however briefly, had been all it had taken to send her temperature soaring beyond all reason.

“You don’t play fair, Captain,” she chided, her voice low and her own teasing smile finally returning to her as it just tilted the corner of her lips.

Killian’s dark brow arched devastatingly in challenge, not about to be outdone. “Oh, and I suppose you think waltzing out here in those shorts that barely cover your knickers and shamelessly teasing me was fair play?”

There was no good comeback, and Emma knew it. She’d been messing with him from the start, and neither of them had any doubts on that score. However, it was just then she remembered the hose and spigot right behind her. Using an innocent shrug of her shoulders and a toss of her blond hair she knew could often distract him - pirate indeed, her golden hair had always drawn his touch, he’d been brushing it over her shoulder since they had first climbed the beanstalk together - she managed to move back enough to reach behind her and turn on the water without him catching onto her actions. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” she sniffed, feigning insult. “I only brought you a cold drink. You looked like you needed…” she fumbled to grasp the hose quickly and pull it up into her hands “...to cool off!”

Without further warning, she pointed the nozzle at him, squeezed the handle and let fly, startling him with a blast of water right to the chest. Luckily, she’d managed to crank up the power enough to have a steady stream leaving the hose at full blast, and they kept it coiled in the shade of the porch, so she knew the spray rapidly soaking her husband was as ice cold as the sun beating down on them from above was burning hot.

Spluttering and yelping at the sudden, frigid onslaught, Killian’s pleased smirk dissolved as he threw up both arms in a helpless attempt to block the spray. She couldn’t help throwing her head back with a triumphant laugh and an emphatic “Gotcha!” escaping her lips. No part of her husband was getting out of this unscathed, she decided, aiming to soak him from head to toe while she had the upper hand.

Unfortunately for her, the victory was short-lived. Adaptable and quick-thinking as ever, Killian had steeled himself against the cold blast and was inching closer amidst laughter of his own and short exclamations at the bursts of chilled water hitting him.

Emma was about to relent in truth, the sight of Killian’s streams of eater running down his arms and sides and droplets clinging to his trim, well-defined chest and the enticing covering of matted dark hair across his taut chest muscles, was more than enough prize for her efforts. The handle actually faltered in her grip for a moment as her mouth fell open with her gawking.

It was all the opening her pirate needed.

Killian bounded forward, closing the slight distance left between them and deftly plucking the hose from her grip. The squelch of his feet on the wet grass and the slap of soaked denim against his legs were Emma’s only other warnings before the sharp, freezing spray was turned on her full blast in retaliation.

“Ahhh! Killian!” she screeched helplessly, the shock of the cold making her gasp, despite knowing she wasn’t going to get any more mercy than she herself had been willing to grant moments ago. Instead, she floundered forward, grabbing for the hand aiming the spray at her. They scuffled briefly, both only getting wetter and more winded, until - ridiculously tangled up with each other and the hose - they tumbled to the sodden grass in a heap of wriggling limbs.

At this point, both of them were laughing, hands rapidly smoothing over wet skin in delicious slides. The hose fell from Killian’s grip, easily forgotten, and the water splashed them both in a wild arc until it fell to the ground and stopped. The damage was long done anyway as they rolled together on the marshy ground, legs entwined and bodies beginning to move against each other deliciously, almost without thought in a deliciously familiar next move.

Unable to resist any longer, and far past teasing or trying to win their game, Emma’s hands stole to trace up his panting side, thrilling at the feel of his stomach muscles trembling where her fingertips swept over them.

Killian was not idle as she worked feverishly, a low groan of pleasure escaping him as she stroked along the planes of his torso. In the next moment, he dove in, pulling down the vee of her own shirt further and baring her breast before closing his mouth over the tight, alert bud warming and tormenting in equal measure with swipes of his wicked tongue.

She bucked up into him, keening and whimpering and wordlessly desperate to urge him on. After that, there was no time for words, merely pants of exertion, the occasional clacking of teeth, the slapping of damp skin on skin, and the smack of the rest of their soaking clothing frantically shed on the swampy ground around them. Soon they were moving in unison, Killian pushing forward, and her opening to pull him in, then clinging to him tightly for all she was worth.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, as the evening shadows fell, a light breeze moved in, cooling the heavy air of the day. Emma’s eyes trailed languidly over the nude lines of her husband’s hip and side as he returned to her with water and slid back under the light blanket they had draped over their bodies as they snuggled skin to skin on the back porch. It hadn’t seemed worth bothering to get dressed again when they’d only adjourned as far as the porch before their kisses and touches and mischievous smiles led to them going again at an achingly slower, more luxurious pace on the porch glider while the sun had slowly dipped closer to the horizon. As Killian curled back around her and brought her hand up to kiss each one of her knuckles reverently, humming as he somehow found a sweet bit of leftover ice cream, Emma could only think it was lucky their porch faced nothing but the rocky coastline and the harbor beyond it. Not that she was ashamed of how quickly she had melted at his whim, but she didn’t need anyone else to get an eyeful.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @kday426 @winterbaby89 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @wefoundloveunderthelight @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @xsajx @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda @cosette141 @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @caught-in-the-filter @apiratewhopines

#cs divergent ff #cs one shot ff #heatwave fic #melting for you #married cs smuff

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