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ellecdc · 1 month

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okay so I just wanted to start by saying I love you're moonwater stories so much.

Ive been thinking about this like paring ig for a bit and your recent moonwater story when r gets home from girls night just made me think of it more so if you're interested id love for you to do it.

Basically its like poly moonwater plus Barty ive been calling it moonwaterkiller in my head (idk if its already a ship or already has a name but I haven't been able to find anything) but basically I feel like r and Barty would be like a chaotic duo and reg and rem would just be like wtf a lot idk... I just think it has some potential and I just love your writing so fucking much.

(I also just love how you write Barty)

so if you're interested I think it would be cool

much love :)

I love the way your mind works babes. thanks for your request! (it's almost two am where I am so please forgive any awkward sentences or spelling mistakes). also, if I didn't completely lose everyone with my DeathStar fics - this may very well do it. && this was written with the help of our fabulous @unstablereader

poly!moonwater x chaotic fem!reader + Barty Crouch Junior

Regulus didn’t know whether to be concerned or slightly aroused at the slightly deranged way that Remus was stalking the halls in search of you and Barty.

You and Regulus had both at one point or another been in a friends-with-benefits situation with Barty (albeit separately) during your time in school, before you and Regulus went and fell in love with a Gryffindor.

Regulus still wasn’t quite over the humiliation; both of falling in love and falling in love with a Gryffindor.

Of course, you and Regulus both stayed friends with Barty; Regulus mostly because he couldn’t shake him (ignoring the fact that Regulus really was quite fond of his maniacal friend), and you because the two of you really were sort of two sides of the same hyperactive galleon.

And though Remus (and sometimes Regulus) liked to pretend that yours and Barty’s friendship caused them grief, they couldn’t deny how much they valued Barty’s loyalty and devotion to his friends; specifically you.

Regulus’ new favourite thing was easily Remus’ new found appreciation for Barty.

Up until this point, Barty had been his notoriously flirty and salacious self when it came to the likes of Remus, who wasn’t yet accustomed to Barty’s unique…personality.

However, once Remus realised the history between his two partners and the other Slytherin boy, he quickly came to appreciate the kind of pull Barty could have on people.

So, Remus had started flirting back.

Barty hated it.

Regulus loved it.

You started keeping track of the number of times Remus reduced Barty to a blushing and stuttering mess in your notebook.

Barty hated that too.

It was nearing curfew and Remus and Regulus hadn’t seen you all afternoon.

Usually that was fine, considering you were a bit of a free spirit. What was concerning, however, was that they hadn’t seen Barty either.

Regulus watched as Remus checked the stupid map that his brother and their friends had created when his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What? Don’t tell me they’re in the middle of the Black Lake again?” Regulus asked quickly, moving to stand over Remus’ shoulder to peer at the map.

“Again?”

“Don’t ask.” Regulus muttered.

“But…doesn’t Barty not know how to swim?”

“I said don’t ask.”

Seeming to know better, Remus turned back and pointed towards the Ravenclaw common room on the map. “It says they’re up in Ravenclaw tower?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Regulus muttered, dragging a hand over his face.

“How’d two Slytherin’s manage to get into Ravenclaw tower?” Remus asked bemusedly, earning him an unimpressed glare from Regulus.

“Remus, I love you, but that was perhaps the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he closed the map and tucked it back into his trunk.

“Come on, we might be able to catch up to Pandora on her way up and have her help us in.”

They had indeed caught up to Pandora, and Pandora had indeed helped them in, though it seemed to be for naught.

“I thought your stupid map said they were here.” Regulus muttered as he surveyed the common room, unable to spot a single lick of green and silver.

“It’s not stupid and they are in here.” Remus muttered back, moving to stand in the dead centre of the room.

“How do you know they’re here if you can’t see them?”

Remus glared at Regulus before looking around to ensure no one could hear them. “I can smell them.” He whispered.

Well Regulus just didn’t know what good these wolfy senses were if they were still out two Slytherin’s.

“Shit.” Regulus heard whispered suddenly as a quill fell from the air and landed beside his foot.

Remus and Regulus both looked up to see you and Barty casually lounging in the chandelier above them.

“Are you sodding kidding me!?” Regulus shouted.

“I think our cover’s been blown.” You said simply to Barty as if you didn’t have two fuming and fretting boyfriends standing nearly forty feet give or take below you.

“Pity.” Barty responded as he peered down. “This was a nice refuge.”

“How’d you even get up there?” Remus cried, pacing like he was getting ready to catch you should you fall.

“Magic.” Barty taunted from above.

“Junior, so help me gods if that witch falls I-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lupin. I resent the insinuation that I would ever let anything happen to our sweet angel baby.” Barty bit back immediately.

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” Remus acquiesced as if he were negotiating a hostage situation. “Why don’t you both just come down here, nice and slow, okay?”

Both you and Barty leaned forward to look down at the two boys, causing the chandelier to swing precariously.

“Fucking hells! Stop moving!” Remus shrieked, causing the attention of the few Ravenclaws sitting in the common room to look over.

“Such a worrier.” Barty muttered as he stood and started manoeuvring himself to the edge of the chandelier - you following him over and causing the chandelier to tip to a nearly 90 degree angle.

“I’m going to be sick, I’m actually going to throw up right here.” Regulus muttered mostly to himself whilst Remus tried to stand directly underneath you lest you need to be caught.

To Remus and Regulus’ absolute horror, Barty launched himself away from the chandelier, grabbing at the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling causing the chandelier to swing away from him like a pendulum.

“JUNIOR!” Remus shouted, causing Barty to momentarily look shamefaced as he looked below him.

As the chandelier swung towards the opposite wall, you too launched yourself at one of the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling and began monkey climbing down them.

“Can you make sure she doesn’t fall, please.” Remus barked at Regulus as he made his way towards Barty.

Barty let out a high pitched screech and began hastily making his way down the wall. “Run Treasure! Save yourself!” He shouted dramatically.

You turned quickly at that and saw Regulus making his way to you.

You let out a surprised squeak and hurried down, and before Regulus realised what you were doing, you had used your wand to open one of the windows and were shimmying out.

“Oi! What the-” but before Regulus could even shove his torso out the window, you’d managed to shift into your animagus form - a mink, which Regulus felt was very fitting considering what a sodding cheeky minx you were being right now - and began scaling your way down the side of the building.

Regulus was interrupted by the sound of a squeal - Remus’ squeal - and turned to see Remus hanging halfway out of the window in much the same fashion that Regulus had been.

Unlike Regulus, however, Remus had been successful in his capture of Barty and had him hanging from the tallest tower at Hogwarts by one of his arms.

“Junior! Are you trying to sodding kill me!?” Remus barked angrily at him, trying to pull Barty up without any help from Barty himself.

Barty looked up at Remus with all the innocence he could muster (read: none) and winked.

“Catch me if you can, Mr. Wolf.”

And Barty shrunk into his own animagus form - an osprey - and let out a cry before swooping down to pick up something that looked suspiciously like a mink from the eaves of one of the lower towers and took off towards the grounds.

“Fucking son of a bitch.” Remus cursed as he tried catching his breath, still sitting half out of the Ravenclaw window. “Why do we put up with those two?”

Regulus shrugged with all the nonchalance he could muster. “‘Cause they’re cute?”

Remus sighed and hit his head against the windowsill. “They’re so sodding lucky that they are…”

“Come on.” Regulus said, offering Remus a hand and helping him out of the window. “Unfortunately, I know exactly where they went.”

Barty loved nothing more than the feeling of his feet sinking into the sediment of the Black Lake below his feet. He also loved the feeling of being near you, his Treasure. He also loved the idea of two handsome men frantically searching for you, and him by proxy.

All this to say, Barty was having a really nice night.

“Junior!”

Barty’s face morphed into a Cheshire cat grin as he turned towards the voice of the man and his boyfriend as they stormed towards the waters edge.

“Well hello, Lupin. How nice of you to join us; care for a dip?”

“Get out of the water.” Regulus drawled in a bored tone.

“Why would I do such a thing? The water’s lovely, I’m in wonderful company, and we’re going to feed the Giant Squid.” He argued.

“Barty.” Remus barked with all the severity he could manage. “You don’t know how to swim.”

Barty scoffed indignantly. “Yeah, well…neither can Reggie!”

“That’s why I’m standing on the shore you absolute bell-end.” Regulus countered quickly.

Remus turned his furious gaze into a bemused one as he took in Regulus. “Do you really not know how to swim either?”

“None of us can!” You shouted from your disturbingly deeper place within the lake as the gentle waves nearly lapped against your skirt.

“Oh, for the love of- you know what? This summer, everyone’s getting swimming lessons.” Remus proclaimed.

“Ou, does that mean I get to see you in your swim trunks, Lupin?” Barty called.

Remus, without missing a beat, started towards Barty, walking into the lake in his shoes and all. “You could see me right now, in less, for free, Junior. You only had to ask.”

Barty let out a screech and tried running towards you, albeit in slow motion on account of the water’s resistance. “Y/N! Treasure! Help! Make him stop!”

“No can do, bubs.” You called back in monotone, still throwing chunks of bread towards the middle of the Lake in hopes of eliciting the company of one Giant Squid.

“Dove, you’re going to catch a cold; get out of the water.” Remus called to you, pants soaked up to his knees after giving up on chasing Barty in the water.

“We’re trying to make friends!” You whined.

“You cannot make friends with a squid, amour. He will eat you.” Regulus explained from the shore.

“He wouldn’t eat his friend.” You scoffed.

“Dove.” Remus barked again.

“I want to see the the big water kitty!” You whined again, turning towards the boys and offering the most pathetic pout you could muster.

Regulus scoffed from his place, still dry on the shore, Remus let out a pained sigh, and Barty all but skipped towards you.

“A valiant death it will be!” He cheered before he felt the fabric of his jumper being summoned by an accio, dragging him unceremoniously through the water towards Remus.

“No! Ah! AH! STRANGER DANGER. STRANGER DANGER!” He shrieked as Remus threw him over his shoulder.

“Okay, well, now you’re just showing off, Lupin.” He muttered, crossing his arm petulantly as Remus held his free hand out to you.

“Dove, please? Come inside with me?”

You looked distressed at this and moved obediently towards Remus. “Are you mad at me?” You asked timidly.

Barty could actually feel Remus’ body soften beneath him as he allowed some of his tension to dissipate. “Of course not, dovey. I love you.”

You leaned over and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning into your animagus mink and swimming to the shore, crawling up Regulus’ pant leg (who admonished you in faux contempt for ruining his trousers), and allowed him to carry you back to the castle.

Barty was feeling petulant about the whole matter of being chased and chastised so decided then that he was going to force Remus to carry him all the way back to the castle in silence.

Unfortunately for Barty, he hated silence.

He was at least proud he’d made it to the dungeons before giving up on his vow of silence.

“You’re really not upset with her?” Barty asked quietly from his current prison. He could feel Remus’ head tilt in confusion, though his steps never faltered.

“Of course not?” He responded as a question.

“Hmmm.” Barty said, racking his brain for something to upset or fluster this man.

“Oh! What about me having slept with both your boyfriend and your girlfriend?”

“What about it?” Remus asked plainly.

“Well…aren’t you upset about that?”

Remus scoffed and adjusted his grip on Barty, hand’s migrating none too innocently up the back of his thighs. “Junior. The only thing I’m upset about is that you haven’t slept with all three of us. I don’t like feeling left out, you know?”

Barty made a strangled sound as he struggled in Remus’ grip to no avail, causing you and Regulus to chuckle from a few strides ahead as you all stepped into the Slytherin common room.

“We told you he was smooth, Barty.” You chuckled.

“You should hear him in bed.” Regulus taunted, reaching over to pinch Barty’s arse, causing him to yelp and start cursing at him.

Remus relented and put Barty down, who immediately made for Regulus’ throat.

“Easy, Junior.” Remus chuckled, pulling him back by the shoulder. “You wanna keep Reg around, don’t you?”

Barty harrumphed and crossed his arms indignantly.

“We’d like to keep you around.” Remus continued.

Barty grumbled again and let out a quiet. “Fine.”

Remus beamed at him, which was very alarming if you asked Barty, as they stepped into his and Regulus’ shared dorm; Rosier and Avery were already asleep in their beds with their curtains drawn.

“Yeah? You’ll let us keep you?” Remus asked.

“I said fine, Lupin.” He bit back.

“Great. So we’re in a relationship then.” He explained simply, causing Barty to level him with a severe glare. “How dare you, Lupin. Never say such vile things to me again.” He spat before storming towards the boy’s bathroom.

Regulus groaned and grabbed his own toiletries before making his way to the washroom behind him. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t try to drown himself in the shower again.”

Remus shook his head and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into Regulus’ bed and pulling you towards him.

“So, explain this to me, Dove. Why is Barty the way he is?”

You snorted a laugh and turned to face him. “You’re going to have to be way more specific, love.”

Remus chuckled and ran his hands up and down your back. “He likes Reg. He loves you. He seems sweet on me. We invite him to be ours and he accepts - but runs when we make it mean something?”

You smiled up at your boyfriend and booped his nose with a perfectly manicured finger - which Remus found very confusing considering you spend your spare time scaling the rafters of grand ceilings and enticing Giant Squids from their hiding places. “Barty doesn’t understand, Rem. He wouldn’t know love if it punched him right in the face.”

Remus could feel his brows furrow and he pulled you in tighter to his chest. “Dove…love doesn’t punch you in the face?”

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say as you rolled your eyes in exasperation and threw your head back onto the pillow. “You see? That’s the kind of thing someone who grew up loved would know.”

It’s not that Remus ever really forgot to worry about you per se, but he sometimes really worried about you Purebloods.

At some point in the night, you had apparently decided Remus and Regulus’ bed was too hot and moved to Barty’s. Remus would have been slightly more petulant about the matter if he hadn’t thought you looked absolutely precious with Barty resting his head on your chest.

He looked so innocent in his sleep.

Sleep clearly didn’t know him very well.

Remus was shocked when the four of you entered the Great Hall for breakfast and Barty actually followed you three to the Gryffindor table. Though Remus was trying to play it cool, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of hope surge within him at what that might mean for the three four of you.

Remus was just about to bite into his toast when a sultry voice sounded from behind Barty.

“Hello, Bartemus.” Amelia Bones sing-songed as she trailed a finger up Barty’s arm.

His brows furrowed almost comically from above the rim of his coffee cup before he slowly lowered it and turned to consider the Hufflepuff.

“Bones. Can I help you?” He asked, punctuating the word help as he plucked her fingers from his being between his two fingers as if he’d found something really quite disgusting on his person.

“I was thinking, you could help me, perhaps tonight?”

Barty turned to look at her incredulously.

“Help with what, Amelia? I’m really quite busy.” He spat, gesturing wildly to his cup of coffee.

“An orgasm or two? Gods, you’re pissy in the mornings.”

Barty scoffed, sounding completely scandalised as he clutched at non-existent pearls adorning his neck. “I am sitting here with my beloveds, Amelia. For shame. You see this lot? I’m theirs, capiche?”

Amelia looked bemusedly at the group of you before shaking her head in confusion. “Whatever you say, Junior.”

She moseyed on away, and Barty turned back towards his cup of coffee. “The gall of some people, honestly.” He said in exasperation, downing the rest of his still hot coffee and standing unceremoniously.

“Well, I best be off. Things to fuck up, people to scare. Tah-tah.” He called, pressing a quick kiss to your hair as he left the Great Hall.

Suddenly, realisation dawned on Remus.

“Ah, I see. So no to a relationship, but he is ours.”

You and Regulus chorused a hum of acknowledgement.

“That’s just how Barty operates. You’ll get used to it.” You explained, still not looking up from the Daily Prophet you had been reading all this time.

Remus didn’t mind getting used to that; not if it meant he managed to get everything he wanted.

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child-care-services · 2 years

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What Should You Know About 4d Plates

What You Should Know About 4D Printing and How It Will Change the Future

The world we live in is constantly evolving, and new technologies arise almost every day. however, we are now present in an era where a lot of these innovations are more accessible than ever before. One such innovation that has gained a lot of attention lately is 4D printing. This type of additive manufacturing involves a process that goes beyond simply adding layers to create a 3D printed object or 4d Reg Plates Legal. Instead, it also monitors changes in conditions and creates secondary functions with the final product. Here’s what you must know about this technology and how it will change the future...

What is 4D Printing?

First off, let’s discuss what 4D printing actually is. This type of printing is a process that starts with 3D printing. 3D printing is a type of additive manufacturing that creates a 3D object from a digital file. This printed object is created layer by layer through a process called deposition modeling. The object is built from the ground up by depositing material – typically a powder of some sort – onto a build plate. What is different about 4D printing is that the process also monitors changes in conditions and creates secondary functions with the final product.

How Does 4D Printing Work?

The process of 4D printing is similar to traditional 3D printing in a few ways. The main difference is that 4D printing adds sensors, actuators, and a controller. These extra elements allow for the alteration of the final product which is not possible with traditional 3D printing. The process starts with a digital model of the final product. This model is then sliced into smaller layers that are used to create the 3D printed object. The extra sensors, actuators, and controllers are integrated into the printed object. They are programmed to monitor conditions like temperature, humidity, movement, etc., and then respond accordingly. A common example of this is an indoor plant that has a changeable color pattern. The plant’s leaves might be printed with colored ink that is temperature-sensitive. This means that the colour of the leaves will change according to the temperature in the room.

Why Is 4D Printing Important?

The main reason that 4D printing is important is that it allows us to create products that are more functional. Many of the items we tend to use in our everyday lives are made up of multiple components. But these components are often designed with the intention of lasting forever. They don’t let us know when they need to be replaced or repaired. This can mean that they fail without us even knowing they needed attention. By using 4D printing, we can create products with sensors and actuators that let us know when they need our attention. This means we can use components that don’t last forever but instead have a lifespan that we can program ourselves. This is important because it can reduce waste and save us money.

4D Printing Applications and Benefits

4D printing has a number of applications, ranging from medical devices to clothing. Let’s take a look at a few examples of how 4D printing can be applied and the benefits that each of these applications has to offer. Clothing - The fashion industry has been a driving force in the development of new technologies. This is somehow especially true with the advent of digital manufacturing. And while digital manufacturing has allowed designers to take great advantage of 3D printing, what many have found is that a little extra functionality goes a long way. Objects - The main advantage of 4D printing is that it allows for the creation of multi-functional products. This means that the final product can be tailored to the needs of its user. This can be especially useful in products designed for the medical industry. Tools - Tools are some of the most commonly used products in the world. It is through these products that many of us use to complete our daily tasks. As such, tools are an area where the benefits of 4D printing can be highly applied. Food - Food is an area where functionality is essential for health and safety reasons. It is also an area where 4D printing can greatly improve upon current food production techniques.

Limitations of 4D Printing

While 4D printing is a fascinating technology, it does come with some limitations. The main limitation is that it is much more expensive than traditional 3D printing. This is because the process includes additional sensors, actuators, and controllers. Because of this, 4D printing is often reserved for industries with a high-profit margin. This includes medical devices, automotive, and aerospace. There are also many applications that are better suited to traditional 3D printing due to the added expense of 4D printing. These include custom clothing and consumer goods. Another limitation of 4D printing is its speed. While 3D printing is often done at high speeds, 4D printing is slower because it processes each piece individually.

#4d Reg Plates Legal #number plate check #number plate country codes #number plate area codes

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vehiclehistory · 2 years

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How to Check The Car Specs By Reg Number Plate in The UK

Check car spec by registration number while buying a used car to know the make, model, mileage, CO2 emissions, MOT and tax status for free

#check reg #reg check #check the car spec #check reg number plate

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allyeardepression · 3 months

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@jegulus-microfic | feb 7 star | words: 1037

Hi so I went a bit overboard with this one but I’m having so much fun writing those you guys have no idea

Anyways enjoy <3

GUYS IT HAS PART 2 NOW WTFFF

James

pads i need you to come here like RIGHT NOW

Pads

???

Who are you?

James looked at the message confused.

James

your best friend?? who needs your help with your dog?????

Pads

Wrong number.

Now he was super confused. He talked with Sirius this morning. He called this number and he talked with Sirius.

James

this is really not the time for pranks pads

moony isnt answering his phone and gigi is vomiting all over my place

what do i do???????

The answer didn’t come right away, but when it did his confusion grew even further. He was trying to give the poor Gigi a bowl to puke into when he read ‘I might know what happened. Send me the address, I’m coming over.’ Without thinking twice he shared his location with the person who was supposed be his best mate. After that, he put down his phone and went back to calming Gigi and giving her some water. If it works for people, it should work for a dog, right? RIGHT???

15 minutes later he heard the doorbell ring and that’s when it hit him. Sirius knows where he lives. Sirius wouldn’t take this long to get to his precious child, as he calls the black mass of fur on James’ carpet. This really wasn’t Sirius.

His first reaction was panic - who the fuck did he send his address to? Then he thought he could pretend he’s not here. But what about Gigi?

When the doorbell rang for the second time, he decided to text that person.

James

who are you again?

Pads

Open the door. I’m not going to kill you.

Or am I?

Now he was scared. Although it was a bit funny, he had to give them that.

Slowly he went to the door, checking in the viewfinder who is on the other side. Unfortunately the person had their back turned to him so it didn’t give him anything. With shaky hands he turned the key and opened the doors with a gentle creak. Hearing that, the person in front of him turned and- wow.

The snow-white face was surrounded by a delicate halo of black waves. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones could make him look rough if it weren't for his soft, pink lips, turned up in a gentle smile, and his eyes. Eyes in which you could immerse yourself as if in an endless, silvery cloud of stardust.

“Hi there, Sunshine” Sirius’ younger brother said passive-aggressively. Ah, nothing has changed since school. Also, it would explain the ‘wrong number’’ thing. Somehow?

“Hello, Little Star” James replied with a nervous smile, after clearing his throat several times. They stayed there in the doorway for few seconds, intense enough to make it feel like hours.

Finally, James cleared his throat for the last time and turned, letting Regulus in. “Thank god you’re not a murderer” he laughed lightly as he led his guest (his one-man-rescue-team?) to the living room, where Gigi was shaking under fluffy blanket.

“Did you give her something?” Regulus asked, kneeling next to the poor thing.

“What? No! Why and what would I give her?” James burst out, terrified of the accusation. What if he accidentally gave her something he shouldn’t have and now she’s going to die? That would mean he was going to die shortly after. Oh no, oh no, oh-

“Calm down, I was just making sure. Look at your carpet” Reg grumbled pointing at the destroyed thing.

“Yeah, I know - she puked at it like a thousand times. No need to point it out” James huffed, now irritated a bit by Regulus’ rudeness.

“I- That’s not what I meant” shorter man laughed softly, such a sweet sound. “She ate a pice of it, look at the right corner.”

“What do you- oh” in the whole mess oh vomits he didn’t even notice a part of the carpet disappeared. “So she was just-“

“Clearing her stomach, yeah” Reg smiled at him crookedly. “She did the same to my shoe last week. Just give her some water for now and we’ll take her to the vet.”

“What do you mean we? I can handle a vet appointment” James said, pouring some water for his goddaughter (yes, she’s his goddaughter, fuck off).

“No, you can’t. Now take her, I’ll drive” Regulus said strutting out of the room. James just lifted the, whatsoever, heavy dog and ran after his best friend’s brother.

He asked Reg to close the door behind them and take the key. The clinic wasn’t far away from his flat, but either way it felt like forever to get there since Regulus refused to talk to him, because ‘it distracts him’.

When they finally got there, the vet just laughed at them for coming to her for the second time in a week and cooed at Gigi, mumbling something about her ’cool uncles not being very good for her’ (hopefully jokingly but who knows). She checked if Gigi was alright, gave her some medicine and asked them to come in few days for checkup.

Walking out of the clinic Regulus asked James if he needed any help with cleaning up after Gigi’s accident.

“Actually yeah, would you help me?” he replied with hopeful eyes.

“I literally just suggested that” Reg said, rolling his eyes.

So, they did just that. They rolled the destroyed carpet, cleaned the floor and some of the mess left on the sofa Gigi was sleeping soundly in the corner of.

When they finished, Regulus went to the door, with James thanking him all the way down the hall. They stood in the doorway again, same intense silence between them as before.

Reg cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

James nodded slightly. “Thanks again” he said once more, getting a fond eye roll from the other man. With that Regulus turned and went to the elevator. Then…

“Hey, Reg?” He turned again, one brow raised. James gather himself, swallowed thickly and on the exhale, almost shy, he asked “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The younger man stood there, both brows raised now. Slowly he smiled at James and nodded.

“I would love to, actually.”

#jegulus #starchaser #marauders #dead gay wizards #the marauders #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #mlm

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lulublack90 · 1 month

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Prompt 16 - Embarrass

@jegulus-microfic April 16, Word count 854

Previous part First part

James actually ran as soon as he got out of Regulus and Sirius’s suite. He was so stupid throwing himself at a stranger without even asking if they were single. He thought Regulus would have told him, but clearly not. Then again, he thought, he did tell me to go away repeatedly, and I wouldn’t go. Barty was right to be angry at me.

His feet had led him back to his own room. Clumsily, he scanned the door card and let himself in. Maybe he’d go out onto the slopes and have a ski. He hadn’t done that for a few days. Not since he ran into Regulus. He could hardly embarrass himself more than he’d already done today.

He had just hauled himself off the bed and started to look for his skiing clothes when the room phone rang. He picked it up in case it was his parents, but they had his mobile number, so it would be odd if it were them.

“Hello?” He said into the receiver.

“James? James, is that you? Please don’t hang up. Can you come back, and I’ll explain.” Regulus’s panicked voice buzzed down the phone line. James sunk onto his bed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Reg. My intentions aren’t exactly platonic, and you have a boyfriend—”

“I DO NOT HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!!” Regulus shouted, clearly aggravated. “Sorry. Barty is not my boyfriend. I broke up with him, and he refuses to accept it. But I swear, James, I would have told you if he were. Please come back.” James ran his hand through his hair as he debated. “Please, James.”

“Ugh,” He grunted. “Okay, fine. Is Sirius there to let me back in?” He’d already stood up and walked towards the door but was suddenly yanked backwards by the corded phone. “Ouch!” He cried as he landed heavily on his arse.

“You just tried to walk away with the hotel’s phone, didn’t you?” Regulus said, trying to hold back a snicker.

“Shut up, or I’m not coming.” He hung the phone up and, rubbing his rump, left his room.

It wasn’t until he was approaching Regulus’s room that he realised he’d never gotten an answer if Sirius was there to let him in. He really didn’t want Regulus to have to hop all the way through to open the door.

As luck would have it, Dr Lupin had just raised his hand to knock on the door. “Dr Lupin,” James called out, waving at the man and jogging the last few steps to get to him. “You here to check on Regulus’s ankle?” He asked with a big smile breaking across his face.

“Oh, er—I mean—Yes, yes. That’s right. Regulus’s ankle—Yep—Exactly.” The young doctor seemed flustered, with a pink flush creeping over his face. He was saved from further explanation when the door suddenly opened.

“Remus!” Sirius beamed at him. His face dropped when he saw James standing next to him.

“Hello, Mr Black. I’m here to check on Regulus’s ankle.” Remus stared straight at Sirius.

“Huh? Oh—Yeah, brilliant. Thank you, Dr Lupin.” Sirius moved aside and let him in. James flicked his head between the two men but couldn’t figure out what he was missing. He shrugged his shoulders and followed them in.

They crowded into Regulus’s room, much to Regulus’s surprise.

“Hello, Regulus. How are you today? I’ve come to check your ankle.” Remus got Regulus to stand and move a few steps as he observed and nodded at his progress. “Excellent. It’s healing well. You can probably do some light exercise with it now. Walk around the suite at least today and try a bit further tomorrow. You should be almost back to normal by the time you go home, though I’m afraid I can’t recommend any more skiing while you’re here.” Remus told him in his doctor’s voice.

“Thank you, Dr Lupin,” Regulus said as he lowered himself back onto the bed.

“You’re welcome,” Remus said, straightening his jumper. “I’ve taken enough of your time. If you want a final check before you leave, let me know.” He turned towards the door.

“I’ll see you out,” Sirius told him, following him through the door.

“Hi,” Regulus murmured once they were alone.

“Hi,” James sighed and sunk onto the end of the bed.

“I’m sorry if he said anything to upset you. I’ve blocked his number now. Hopefully, he’ll get the message.” They sat there in awkward silence.

Regulus shuffled himself up the bed so he was propped up by his pillows. “Can we just forget that moron spoke to you and just go back to how we were this morning?” He asked hopefully. “I found a film I think you might like. It’s all romantic, and there’s sword fighting and pirates and Rodents of unusual size.” He smiled shyly at James as he flicked the TV on.

With very little encouragement, James flopped backwards next to Regulus.

Regulus immediately snuggled into his side and nudged James’s arm until he wrapped it around him. Regulus sighed contentedly as he put the film on.

Next part

60 notes · View notes

littlemissmanga · 1 year

Text

"Don't Forget That, Okay?

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

WC: 2,020

Warnings: A bit of angst/hurt feelings, but what do you expect with Crosshair. All is resolved by the end though.

Prompt/Square: “don’t forget that”

Summary: The Bad Batch have a rare few days of leave, meaning you get a chance to visit home. You invite the boys to tag along. But Crosshair makes his discomfort with the domestic scene known.

a/n: So my parents were those parents growing up. They were the ones who “adopted” my friends. My childhood home was open to anyone going through a tough time or in need of additional support, no matter what that looked like. Even if everything was good, they were always checking in on friends and trying to feed them (seriously, like an ungodly amount of time was spent eating). Many of my friends have my parents’ cell numbers to this day (we’re all over 30) and still text them just to chat.

I couldn’t help but think of how “I don’t need anyone” Crosshair would react to reader bringing him home seeing a well-adjusted and reasonably happy family and feeling so out of place. Think a Shawn Hunter in Boy Meets World situation. And that just made me want to hug him. Then I saw my Clone x Reader Bingo Card courtesy of @clonexreaderbingo and “don’t forget that” seemed to fit perfectly!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- b

The wind cut against his skin, the harsh sting reminding him how exposed he was.

Not just because his armor was still inside, too far to grab before the need for fresh air overwhelmed him. No, the barely silent current that ran along through his muscles and shocked like a raw nerve was thanks to you.

A bitter burst of air pushes past his lips without consent.

Of course, like always, you didn’t need to try to get under his skin. You’d done that naturally the first second you’d stepped on the Marauder, meeting him quip for quip as soon as you opened your mouth. Your tenacity and stubbornness grated on him and thrilled him in the same breath, and soon he began craving your verbal matches.

They would always end at an impasse, leaving him more determined to force you to back off … or get a rise out of you. Soon, he began craving the intimacy of them. He began craving that moment when the two of you stood toe to toe, willing the other to cave first so you could follow.

He saw how easily you meshed with his brothers, how they could make you laugh out loud or comfort you after a tough mission and he had longed to join their ranks. Longed for much more, actually.

And then you stumbled. Stuttered, technically. And it opened the door.

He still hasn’t figured out what caused you to trip over your words that day, but when he turned to look at you, confusion melted into smug contentment at the sight of your wide eyes roving over his arms before snapping up to meet his.

Ever since, the second you started to get mouthy with him, Cross would pull himself up to his full height to tower over you, almost as if he was reminding a reg to mind his place. Well, in a way he was. But your place — where he’d like it to be, anyway — was much closer than he’d let any of those regs. Hell, closer than he’d let his brothers most days, if he was being honest.

And Maker if your reaction didn’t spur him on each time. He didn’t need Hunter’s hearing to know your heart would start racing. He could see the desperate way you’d try to control your breathing, chest heaving so pretty, just for him. Because of him.

The fire that raced through his veins that first time seared that image into his memory forever. He thought then he would do anything to keep you there. Next to him.

You seem to feel the same. In the months since, you had rarely left his side. You continued to constantly wheedle him, though neither of you jabbed with the same venom anymore. Not really. It was all an act, a dance to pull you together without either needing to be the first to succumb to the vulnerability he could feel tug at his heart every time he caught you sneaking a glance at him.

But again, without a thought, you put him right back on his ass. Now, it feels like his stomach felt would fall out his ass if his chest didn’t collapse in on itself first.

She doesn’t even know it.

And you shouldn’t. It was his mistake.

He forgot he was a soldier, a clone built for nothing more than war. That truth had honestly never bothered him before. He had his squad, his missions and his skills. That’s all he needed out of life.

But seeing you here …

He should have known accepting the invitation was stupid. When the Batch had been given a few days of leave, he should have kept to his routine. Stayed in the Marauder, cleaned his rifle and caught up on sleep instead of agreeing to join you and the others in visiting your home planet.

When the ship first touched down, he could see his brothers surveying the area. But as they approached an almost picturesque home at the end of a picturesque road, their curiosity remained as Crosshair’s morphed into bitterness.

It was too bright, too open, too peaceful to be anything other than alien.

Your smile was dazzling when you called out to your family with a lightly mocking tone, but the contentment on your face when your mother pulled you into her embrace broke his heart. It’s why he was the only one of the Batch to refuse the same welcome from her.

That Tech looked slightly uncomfortable with the overt affection was little comfort. Crosshair couldn’t even bring himself to tease his brother. Not when you so clearly belonged here. And Crosshair knew he never would.

So when your mom tried to get him to talk about himself, when your dad asked what he’d like to eat for dinner, when you looked at him with those eyes that shone with so much kriffing happiness it would have brought him to his knees if he were a weaker man ... he ran.

Like a worthless hut'tuun, damn him.

That’s what hurts the most. He knew the truth, deep down. But he hid from it. It was so easy to do when you were in his world.

Seeing you in yours has forced him to acknowledge that your place isn’t with him. It’s here, or somewhere just like here. Somewhere far away from battlefields and blaster smoke. Somewhere where kind words fill the air, rather than explosions. Where you can surround yourself with people who love you and can keep you happy.

You fit here. So completely he’s sure he will never see anything so perfect again. And with that same certainty, he also knows he will never belong here or anywhere like it.

This sort of soft, quiet peace isn’t meant for a soldier … a sniper … him.

“Cross?”

He freezes at the sound of your voice, letting the howl of wind through the trees suffice as a reply. When an exasperated huff fills the air, he expects it to be followed by your footsteps fading away as you turn back toward the house.

But then, you never do what he expects, do you?

So, he steels himself, tensing his muscles and darkening his glare when you plop onto the ground next to him in front of your childhood home.

“Ever heard of personal space?” He spits, hating the insecurity that forces the venom to seep back into his voice on instinct.

“Don’t be stingy, it’s cold out here! Not all of us run warm, you know.” Your tone remains light, joyful. Artificially so.

He doesn’t understand how you could willfully ignore every hostile reaction his body gave. He isn’t sure if he hates it or loves it. “Then go inside.”

Your lips purse as if you’re really considering it, fooling no one. “Hmm … nah. I think I’ll stay put.”

Crosshair scoffs and looks ahead. He doesn’t want to encourage you. But he is selfish. Too selfish to push you away as you scoot even closer, molding your side to his.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly, shocking him into compliance as you gently loop your arm through his, pulling it to your chest as your chin finds its perch on his shoulder.

“For what?”

“Making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not that talented.” If he is going to do this, might as well be now. Stars, he loves the feeling of your arms around his, of you pressed against every inch of his side, grounding him. But it wasn’t his to enjoy. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just think this is a karking waste of time.”

Leaning away from you, Crosshair tries to jerk his arm out of your grasp. But you surprise him with your strength as you lay claim to the limb, making it clear to you both that he’s not going anywhere.

You tug gently on him, tucking your head slightly to catch his gaze. “Then I’m sorry for wasting your time. I just really wanted to bring you here.”

He buries his confusion, unwilling to open that door without knowing he could close and lock it tight. “That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid. Leave is rare, and when we do get it, it’s too short. I wanted you guys to make the most of this one, at least, since we weren’t too far away. Because you deserve to sleep in a bed in a room of your own without needing to wake up and take a night shift. Because you deserve a hot shower — a real one, not sonic — without a time limit. Rejecting all that is stupid, Cross.” You’re practically lecturing him, your voice strong as you look at him incredulously.

You keep his gaze for a beat of silence before dropping it. Crosshair feels his lips moving, ready to refute your rather ridiculous nat-born assertions, but you cut him off, your voice dropping to almost a whisper, wavering in a way he’d never heard from you before.

“But there are other reasons, too, ya know? Selfish reasons. Because there’s no better cook in the galaxy than my dad. Because my mom has been begging to meet you for months and I’ve been distracting her on every holocall to save you from that fate. Because I got to meet your family and see where you came from. Your past. Got to see everything that made you, you. I wanted to show you mine.”

His arm is finally freed as your hands drop to your lap, eyes following the movement. He can see the nervous twitch of your fingers as you mindlessly toy with the fabric of your pants. Looking up to study your face, his eyes trail over the curve of your cheek where your eyelashes rested, your gaze still cast down.

“I won’t say sorry for wanting that. But I am sorry for whatever I did that sent you out here.”

Oh.

His chest feels like it’s ready to collapse in on itself again, more intensely this time. And there’s only one word he can think as he reaches out to direct your face to his, as his fingers skim the smooth skin of your cheek, as his eyes meet yours, hoping they convey that one word as yours scream your uncertainty:

Precious.

“You didn’t do anything. I don’t fit here.”

There it is. Simple. Easy. Delivered in his signature gruff tone that erased the hurt it took for him to say them, to accept them.

“Do I fit here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly, almost daring him to say no. A gesture so adorable and infuriating at the same time it makes his blood boil … for better and worse. Outwardly, though, all it earns is a roll of his eyes.

“You always ask such dumb questions?”

“Only in response to dumb statements.” You shoot back, response at the ready as the pair of you fall seemlessly into your natural rhythm.

He narrows his eyes. “Nothin’ dumb about it, doll. Not my scene.”

You shake your head, a small playful smile teasing your lips. He knows that smile means nothing but trouble and he can’t afford any more of that. Still, Crosshair can’t help but play along. I really am a coward.

“Well, if I belong here, then so do you.”

Just as simple. Just as easy. But it can’t be.

“That’s not—”

“It is,” you interrupt, leaning impossibly closer. “And if there’s somewhere you don’t feel comfortable, then I don’t belong there, either.”

Maybe he is a weak man. Because against all logic and instinct, when you tuck your head under his chin and curl up against him, Crosshair can’t do anything other than pull you firmly into his arms and hold you tight against him.

A stronger man would be able to keep a healthy distance. But you don’t seem to mind this weakness. And Maker knows he can only fight his own selfishness for so long.

“I belong with you, and you with me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

Your lips moving against the delicate skin of his neck sends shivers down his spine and you, likely thinking it’s from the cold, press further unto him. The ghost of a laugh at your sweet misunderstanding coats his lips before they press into the hair at the top of your head.

“Okay.”

#CFB2023 #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x f!reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #don't forget that #clonexreaderbingo #clone x reader

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lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe · 6 months

Text

Personnel Files [IKYLHT]

Series Masterlist | Next: 141 & Rabbit Headcanons

Name: [REDACTED]

Callsign: Highwater (formerly), Rabbit

Rank: Gunnery Sergeant (E-7)

Occupation: Demon Dogs Operative, 0251 MOS Interrogator/Debrief Specialist

Affiliations: United States Marine Corps (formerly), Demon Dogs, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Female, 172cm, ‘Heavily’ Tattooed

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Physical Examination cut short, patient held overnight in medical ward after severely injuring nurse practitioner. Sudden unprompted hysteria after [REDACTED], patient forcefully restrained. Absence of physical response to constraints- ceased movement and allowed for further restriction of movement in accordance to protocol. Negative emotional response to constraints- immediate increase in hysteria, cowering in expected physical harm, patient proceeded to [REDACTED], refused medical treatment. Evidence of trauma-response based attack. Unknown psychological trigger. Incident Number 9836573.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Recalled to active duty following brief unauthorized leave of absence after covert operation in [REDACTED], Mexico. Patient requested base transfer upon return, application denied until documentation of post-mission evaluation was received. Patient agreed to undergo aforementioned evaluation, halted after [REDACTED], Incident Number 9836573. Patient attended recommended Cognitive Processing Therapy following incident. Currently attending 1-1 Psychotherapy, prescribed Venlafaxine. Patient granted permission by PhD. Harrison to avoid medical institutions unless warranted by life-threatening illness or injury.

Name: John ‘Johnny’ MacTavish

Callsign: Soap

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sniper and Demolitions Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Male, 183cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient reports noticeable decline in migraine and fatigue following tinnitus treatment, as previously prescribed. Patient was recommended the continuation of such methods- avoiding caffeine and nicotine, limiting salt intake, increasing vitamin B12, and following proper PPE protocols.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Name: Simon Riley

Callsign: Ghost

Rank: Lieutenant (O-2)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sabotage and Infiltration Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 192cm, Dark Blonde Hair, Brown Eyes, Half-Sleeve Tattoo on Right Forearm, Skull Plate Face Covering [On-Mission], Balaclava Face Covering [Off-Mission On-Base]

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient’s routine psychological evaluation is past-due. Clear for active duty, ordered to schedule annual check-up eval at earliest convenience. When questioned, patient admits to decline in attendance of 1-1 Psychotherapy regarding [REDACTED]. Declines request for therapy and/or medication regarding childhood PTSD. Declines request for medication regarding [REDACTED].

Name: Kyle Garrick

Callsign: Gaz

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Weapons Tactics and Covert Surveillance Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, SAS Domestic Counter-Terror Program, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 24yr Male, 180cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient reports continued migraine and light sensitivity post-concussion. Prescribed Topiramate to manage temporary symptoms. Screened for excessive bleeding and hemorrhaging, no evidence of prolonged injury post blunt force trauma found.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Name: Jonathan ‘John’ Price

Callsign: Bravo 0-6

Rank: Captain (O-3)

Occupation: 22nd SAS Regiment Captain, Close Quarter Battle Specialist, Seek-and-Strike Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 36yr Male, 185cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Full Beard

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Cyclobenzaprine for continued back pain and muscle spasms, denied fulfilling prescription due to inability to consume nicotine or alcohol while on medication.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Nitrazepam to provide short-term relief from severe anxiety and insomnia while off-duty, denied fulfilling prescription due to sedative properties and possibility of impaired judgment or coordination in the event of an unscheduled call back to base.

Name: Alejandro Vargas

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Colonel (O-6)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Leader of Los Vaqueros

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 186cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient recommended continuation of physical therapy for affected shoulder.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying uncharacteristic signs of high stress. Unknown stress trigger. Recommended self-treatment: elimination of nicotine and caffeine from diet, substitution of herbal teas and remedies. Patient admitted as to previously declining aforementioned recommendations, notes having implemented recommendations under the order/care of [REDACTED]. Follow-up advised.

Name: Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Sergeant Major (E-9)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Los Vaqueros Second-in-Command

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 181cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm and Chest Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying signs of high stress, declined additional optional psychological screenings. Recommended time off-duty to mitigate stress, patient denied ability to leave base for extended periods of time.

Name: N/A

Callsign: Konig

Rank: Oberfeldwebel [Staff Sergeant, Technical Sergeant]

Occupation: KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Kommando Spezialkräfte (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 27yr Male, 198cm, Blue Eyes, Sniper Veil Face Covering

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

Name: Valeria Garza

Callsign: El Sin Nombre

Rank: N/A

Occupation: Leader of Las Almas Cartel, KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Mexican Special Forces (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 28yr Female, 168cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: N/A

79 notes · View notes

ameliaisla09 · 10 months

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How To Find Registration Number From VIN UK?

How to find vin number on car? Checking a VIN Number (Vehicle Identification Number) using a registration number typically requires access to a database or a specific service that can retrieve the information. Several websites and online services provide vehicle history reports that include information based on a VIN or registration number. For more details visit https://theautoexperts.co.uk/blog/how-to-check-vin-number-of-car-from-reg-plate-in-the-uk/

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rubyjackson · 1 year

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Car Plate Check

One of the most important steps in buying a used car is a number plate check since it produces thorough reports with details on number plate changes, the last five digits of the VIN, the engine number, and more. Visit CarDotCheck UK for further details.

#dvla number plate check #car plate check #reg plate check #dvla number plate search #vehicle number plate check #car number plate finder

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ami-journal · 1 year

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Vehicle Engine Number Check |How to find the Engine number for a used vehicle?

Are you thinking of buying a used vehicle? Are you worried about the authenticity of the vehicle? The engine is the beating heart of every vehicle and also a crucial identifying factor that can be used to figure out if your used car is authentic or not. If your engine number doesn’t match as per the given paperwork, you have a problem. This article will teach you how to discover your vehicle's Engine Number.

Get engine number check using CarDotCheck's used car reports that are affordable and detailed. Find out information about your used car before making a purchase.

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bobgasm · 5 days

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kingpin ⦾ fourteen

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x ofc!emery young word count: 4074 warnings: mentions of loss, old friends, a revelation,

summary: in which richard floyd’s presence sparks more than a heated argument

thirteen | kingpin | fifteen

A young Emery laughs as Mickey, her best friend, drops his school bag and breaks out into a cartwheel.

“My sisters taught me on the weekend when you couldn’t come over,” he tells her proudly, showcasing a toothy grin. “Maybe they can teach you too sometime!”

“That would be so cool!” Emery replies, grabbing his backpack and handing it towards him. “What’s it called again?”

“A cartwheel.”

They chatter idly as they navigate the streets from their school to Flo’s Diner where Emery’s mom works. By the time they arrive, they’re ready for a snack and Betty, Emery’s mom, greets them with a wave. They settle into a booth and pull out their sheets of homework while Emery hands Mickey a pencil.

“Hey you two,” Betty says warmly, giving them both a hug. “I’ve just asked Reg if he can whip you both up a sandwich.”

“Thanks Mrs Young!”

“Thanks mom.” Emery grins. “Mickey showed me how his sisters taught him how to cartwheel over the weekend. Can I learn too?”

“Of course, bubby,” Betty assures her. “You’ll have to ask them nicely.”

“Nah, they’ll probably just teach you anyway,” Mickey interjects. Betty fondly ruffles his hair. “Did my mom say what time she’ll get us tonight?”

“Six o’clock, on the dot. Make sure you both help her with the dishes tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” they chime together.

“How much homework did Mrs Lofroth give you today?”

“Some spelling and maths,” Emery replies. “But I finished my math homework at school.”

“And we’re learning about Rome, so we have to build a panther over the weekend,” Mickey adds.

“Parthenon,” Emery corrects. “Mickey can’t remember what it’s called.”

Emery hadn’t slept well. The last 40-odd hours had been full on, to say the least. Being asked questions about her mom and her loyalty…Emery wasn’t surprised that when she’d closed her eyes, she’d dreamt about her mom. Or her childhood best friend.

It had been a much simpler time then. Mickey always had some crazy story or new trick he wanted to teach Emery. She’d been thinking about him a lot lately â€“ mostly, what the hell happened to him and his family. They’d been such an important part of her life, and for them to just disappear made her heart sink.

She was desperate for some answers; something from her past to keep her grounded now that times were changing. Now that she’d been brought in, to an extent. She’d chosen her job and her loyalty to the Floyd’s. Whether that was a smart decision was yet to be decided.

Either way, she’d made her bed. Now she had to lie in it too.

She was at work early after a morning training session at Fitch’s. Payback, Reuben, she wasn’t too sure what to call him, was kind enough to offer his help during her session. She really only wanted to hit something, so he made it productive. Giving her a few drills and hit combos to practice. Emery was grateful for his help, and thanked him once again after taking a quick shower.

At work, she made herself some coffee and started making a dent in a few invoices that had come in. She knew her day was mostly going to be taken up with entering everyone’s hours into the payroll system so she could organise them being paid on time, but she didn’t want any bills to slip through the cracks. Making sure she checked over everything before starting on the wages.

Emery enjoyed her job. She was thorough and careful to dot all her i’s and cross all her t’s. She was able to reach out to suppliers who hadn’t sent all their invoices that correlated to ones listed on the statements to ensure prompt payments. She ran regular reports to make sure the accounts were balanced and reconciled any differences she needed to.

Her work was the only sense of normalcy she felt that she still had. The tedious number crunching was like a safety blanket; she knew it would always be there and comfort her. She could control 90% of what she normally did, and being thrown in the deep end of keeping the Floyd's books wasn’t going to be something she’d take lightly. It was a whole new ballgame she had to learn and keep track of, and that was going to take time. If she didn’t perform, or if things didn’t look right, she was scared about what would happen to her.

Scared that they would go after her sister.

She took a break when there was a knock on her door, looking up from her screens to see Bob standing in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Good morning,” he replied casually.

Emery sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Is it still morning?” Glancing at the bottom corner of her screen, the time reflected Bob’s greeting. It was, in fact, still morning for another two minutes.

“Afraid so,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he wanted to smile. “Callie said you got here before she did this morning.”

Emery nodded. “Couldn’t sleep,” she replied, watching him take a seat opposite her desk. “Thought I’d go to Fitch’s but, as it turns out, hitting something only made me more mad. So I gave up and came in early. Who’s Callie?”

Bob chuckled softly, crossing his left ankle over his right knee. “Halo,” he supplied.

“Right, naturally. Did you need something?”

Bob shuffled slightly in his chair. “As you know, my father’s back in town and called a meeting. Everyone who knows anything about what we do will be there. Your presence is required.” Emery bit the tip of her tongue to stop herself from saying what she wanted to say. “Say what you’re thinking.”

“You told me about this yesterday,” she reminded him, watching him nod slightly in acknowledgement. Clearly? she wasn’t the only one in her head today. “My presence is required,” she repeated. “You don’t want me there?”

“No,” he told her honestly. “Not yet, anyway. I know I can trust Coyote and a few others, but most of the people at this meeting are…seasoned contractors. Some of the most terrifying people I’ve ever met, but when I get scared, I go quiet and take everything in. What do you do when you’re scared?”

“Say that I’ll dig my own grave to save you the trouble,” she confessed sheepishly.

Bob smiled like that was exactly what he’d been hoping to hear. It made Emery feel sick. “You can’t do that in this meeting.”

Emery swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, nodding slightly. “Is this meeting just an interrogation for me?”

“No,” Bob replied. “We’ll be discussing the best case of action for this Decker situation. I’ve been handling it so far, but my father still sits at the head of the table.”

“Morgan said things run better with you in charge,” Emery noted, watching his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at the admission.

“We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things,” Bob replied hesitantly. Emery could tell he was carefully choosing his words. Making sure he didn’t say the wrong thing, or overshare. “I just…wanted to give you a heads up.”

Emery swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

Emery was early to the meeting. Bob hadn’t specified a time, but she’d seen unknown people walking past her office. Some of them had paused to see who was sitting in Decker’s chair, while others headed straight for the board room. She signed out of her computer and locked her office before joining a few people in the room.

Bob was engaged in conversation with a man Emery noted was in police uniform, which made her wonder just how far the Floyd’s reach was. Whatever he was talking to the officer about was clearly not meant for anyone else’s ears, so she took a seat beside the only other person in the room she knew â€“ Coyote. He gave her a tense nod as she settled in beside him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he told her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m worried about saying the wrong thing,” she replied, chewing nervously on her bottom lip while picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“You won’t,” he assured her. “You’re a new face here. People will be curious to see if you can hold your own. If you get too mouthy, I’ll start talking over you. If you hear me, you zip it, alright?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed thickly. “Thanks, Coyote.”

As more men, and a few women filled the room, Emery tried to memorise faces. She realised she hardly knew anyone, aside from Coyote, Halo, Payback and Bob. Of course, her realtor had shown up, Penny, as well as her landlord, Heather. Emery now felt stupid for having accepted Bob’s help to find an apartment, because she was living amongst, and working for, the mob.

Emery watched Heather give Bob a hug and fuss with his hair. That kind of familiarity reminded her of her own mother, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She tried to pry her eyes away, feeling like she was invading by watching them interact. Her gaze settling upon the cop who was busy talking to Payback. There was something about himâ€¦she couldn’t figure out what exactly.

“Who’s the cop?” She asked Coyote.

“Fanboy,” he supplied. “Poked around a bit much. Bob took a liking to him. Found some dirt on him. Now he’s one of us.”

Emery nodded at the information. “He have a real name?”

“Sure he does,” Coyote replied with a chuckle. “No one here calls him by it, though.”

“Right, because the nickname shtick isn’t a dead giveaway that your organisation is different,” Emery replied, sarcasm laced throughout her tone.

“Our organisation.”

“That’s exactly what I was telling you not to do,” Bob commented, making both her and Coyote turn to face him. “Bite your tongue.”

“At this rate, I’ll bite it off before this meeting is over,” she told him. “Sorry, that’s the last time. Just needed to get it out of my system.”

He gave her an understanding smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Just breathe. You’ll be fine.”

His words brought her some comfort, but not much. She took a shaky breath as he took the seat Coyote vacated beside her, opting to stand behind them instead. Emery figured he usually stood in these kinds of meetings â€“ chairs were sparse and those who sat seemed to hold an air of importance. It made her want to stand.

Sensing her thoughts, Bob reached out and placed his hand over hers, slightly shaking his head to warn against it. Silence slowly washed over everyone as heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. Bob patted her hand reassuringly as the door swung open, revealing a large, pot-bellied man. His size was intimidating, and Bob’s hand had been withdrawn. He sat up a little straighter and Emery copied his movements, watching the man walk towards the free chair in front of his wife whom he failed to acknowledge.

“Is this everyone?”

Emery stilled at his words, his voice familiar. She knew him â€“ not really. She knew of him.

“Everyone stateside,” Bob replied. He received a grunt in response which only made Emery shift slightly as a shiver worked its way up her spine.

Emery stilled as his gaze moved from Bob to her. She did her best to hold his eye, but she remembered him. He’d been younger back then, all muscle instead of his current stature. She felt like he was looking through her, rather than at her.

“I called this meeting because we have reason to believe Dominic Decker is working with the Russians. You’re the one who discovered that he was stealing from me, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied formally.

“How much?”

“Five million so far.”

“You think there’s more?”

“He’s stolen from the mob,” she pointed out. “He’s going to die either way. Why would he stop there?”

Despite the murmurs of agreement, Bob shuffled beside her, a silent warning to bite her tongue. Emery was determined to hold her ground. She believed her statement to be true…if there were any paper records that predated the use of their current payroll system, she knew they’d find more evidence.

He grunted in response. “Hangman has tracked Decker down in Ecuador. He was seen with Sergei Popov. We used to buy guns from Popov over thirty years ago.”

“Hangman and Rooster have heard chatter that Decker wants to hire a gun to kill Richard. My best guess is that the Russians will want to see the job through themselves,” Bob added. “It’s likely they won’t stop with Richard.”

“Until we know more, nobody travels alone. Popov will stop at nothing to exterminate us. This will be the last meeting we hold together until this mess is cleaned up. The less we’re all in the same place, the harder it will be for them to take us out.”

Men started talking over one another, trying to discuss the next steps.

“He wants you dead,” an older man with dark hair by Richard’s side pointed out. His words brought silence across the room. “I’m assuming you and Heather will need a security detail?”

“The farm has better vantage points. We’d be able to see them coming if they came to take you out,” a white haired man commented.

“We’re staying in the city,” Richard said with finality. “We’ve waged wars before and not once have I had to leave my home.”

“Mav and Ice are right though,” Bob replied, drawing everyone’s attention toward him. “We can protect the farm, we can’t protect a townhouse. Two of our best shooters are chasing Decker and trying to find out exactly what the hit on you includes. Given that it’s your life that’s been threatened, and by that same token, my mom’s, you need to get underground. You take your most trusted men and you disappear. If I don’t know where you are, then Decker can’t use me to get to you.”

Emery wanted to pay attention as Richard started speaking again. She wanted to know what was going on, but he struck a nerve with her. Something about him didn’t sit right. Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in the many faces of everyone else present.

Every time she tried to move past the cop, she got stuck. Taking in his features, wondering why he also looked familiar. He was young â€“ too young to have been the officer who’d told her that her mom had died. She could’ve sworn he’d been there that night, but he couldn’t have been older than 25. It would’ve made him…holy shit.

It would’ve made him about ten. Three months older than Emery, if she remembered correctly.

“Betsy, if you can’t pay attention and answer my questions, I have no need for you!” Richard boomed.

Right, Emery thought. Probably should’ve focused on listening a bit better.

She swallowed thickly as she rose to her feet, placing her hands on the table in front of her as she stared Richard down. “I remember you, you know?” She told him. “You owned the diner where my mom worked before she was killed. Isn’t that right, Coyote?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came Coyote’s response.

Emery didn’t turn to look at him. She was seething and wanted Richard to know just how pissed she was. “My name is Emery, not Betsy. And my mom’s name was Betty, but you didn’t care enough to try and learn it, let alone remember it. You’re a disgrace. My mother was killed in your diner, and if I were to wager a guess, she came to the same conclusion that I did, she works for the mob.”

The room was silent as everyone stared between Emery and Richard. She knew she should have done what Bob said and kept her mouth shut, but he stayed quiet beside her. She didn’t know if he was brave or a coward for doing so, but she couldn’t care less.

A slimy grin took hold of Richard’s mouth, his eyes dark as he stared at her. She wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Her stomach in knots, she felt sick, but she held her ground.

“Yes, a shame, really. That robbery,” he said, a chill rippling through Emery’s body. She hated how he had the power to cause such a reaction with only his words. She hated that she flinched. Hated that she still felt like that timid nine year old in the diner.

“Emery,” Bob’s tone was low, a warning. “Sit down.”

She disregarded his comment, turning to look back at the cop. Mickey. Her childhood best friend. He looked slightly pained by her outburst, the revelation. Familiar brown eyes pleading with her to stop talking, jaw set hard.

Emery didn’t sit back down. She did probably the smartest thing she could’ve done, and that was leave. Even though not a single word was spoken, she knew Bob would have something to say when she finally faced the music. For now, though, she needed to be alone. It was the only way she wouldn’t get herself into more trouble.

She locked herself in her office, kicking her heels off and freeing her hair from its clip. She’d taken it from the bathroom at home – it was Nat’s. She thought it’d make her feel more put together. It didn’t.

With a sigh, she roughly ran her hands through her hair, shaking it out as she sat down in one of the comfy chairs. Her breathing was deep, purposeful. An attempt to calm herself down after doing the one thing she’d promised she wouldn’t do – run her mouth.

Fuck this, she thought. Richard’s comment had pissed her off. Pieces of the puzzle slowly started to form as she went off on her tangent, and then he’d sent her over the edge. It was clearly more than a robbery, like she’d thought for the last decade and a half. Maybe she hadn’t been told the full story because she was a kid, but either way, she wanted to know everything.

She wanted the police report that Coyote had scraped together for her background check. She wanted to ask Mickey if he could dig some more, but she was kind of mad at him too.

He stood there silently, but she saw recognition in his eyes. Desperation. They needed to talk, but she couldn’t do that in the office. She knew better than to get his number and talk over the phone, and her apartment was off limits. Bob said he hadn’t had time to bug the place, but she didn’t want to take any chances. If Heather saw Mickey leaving, she’d likely tell Bob.

Emery didn’t have any safe space away from the Floyd’s. She doubted that Mickey would either.

She waited, wondering who was going to enter her office first. Watching people through the frosted glass of her office door as they retreated down the hall. The meeting clearly over…for now.

Bob didn’t knock as he opened the door, “My office,” he told her. Emery followed him out into the hallway and into his own office where Coyote, Halo and Fanboy all waited patiently.

Mickey stood to the side awkwardly as Emery gave him a once over. Bob closed the office door behind her, accepting the drink of dark, golden liquor that Coyote handed him and taking a sip.

“Emery?” Coyote asked, tilting the bottle in her direction. She nodded.

“How badly did I fuck up?” She asked, not addressing anyone in particular, but keeping her eyes on Bob for any sign that his mask would slip. She hated when he was hard to read, stoic almost. This way, she had no way to gauge off his facial expressions.

He made himself comfortable behind his desk, gesturing to everyone else to take a seat. She settled into a chair beside Halo, swirling the liquor around the sides of the glass that Coyote handed to her. Unable to lift her eyes to meet anyone else’s, but mostly to avoid staring at Bob. He was always staring at her, she found. It made her squirm, but she didn’t hate it.

“Richard can’t fault that you’re doing an impeccable job tidying up Decker’s mess,” Bob started.

“Why don’t you call him ‘dad?’” Emery asked. When she finally looked up at him, he seemed amused by the question. “It’s always Richard, never dad. Just an observation.”

“He was never much of a father,” he replied, putting an end to her conversation before it strayed too far. “He’s appreciative of the work you’ve done and will continue to do.”

Emery sensed there was a ‘but’ coming.

“But,” bingo. “He never wants to see you again.” The feeling’s mutual. “I believe the way he put it went something like, ‘if you can’t put a muzzle on that bitch I will bury her next to her whore mother.’”

Emery’s gaze burned through Bob and he had the decency to look ashamed to have even repeated what was said to him.

“What were you thinking?” He asked her.

“He called me Betsy, just like he did to my mom. It was dismissive and ignorant, and I couldn’t stop myself from telling him as much. He’s a bully.”

“He’s a fucking Don, Emery. You don’t challenge him unless you want to meet your end a lot sooner than God intended.”

“Don’t sit there and preach to me like you didn’t suggest I dig my own grave on fucking Monday. It’s Wednesday, Robert, in case you forgot. I’ve known about this whole organisation for less than 72 hours. How the fuck would I have known you don’t challenge a Don? What the fuck is a Don? Shouldn’t he have a cooler nickname like Coyote, or Halo?”

She deliberately didn’t mention Fanboy. She didn’t want to talk about Mickey, or give him any ideas his nickname was cool.

“Until he’s dead, he’s in charge,” Bob stated.

“Maybe we should just let Decker kill him, hm? All those in favour?”

Emery raised her hand, but knew no one was stupid enough to challenge Bob like she was doing. She knew better than to look around for support. To him, it looked like he’d forgotten there were more people around. He looked at her with a fire of his own shining in his eyes and an upturned lip. She’d seen a similar look on his father’s face earlier, but for some reason it didn’t come across as creepy. It was slightlyâ€¦no, don’t go there, Emery.

“When he dies, you’re in charge, right?” She continued.

“Enough, Emery,” he warned her.

“Why, is your office bugged too?”

“Your office isn’t bugged,” Bob told her.

“Did you have Coyote remove them?”

“Yes, but we’re getting off topic,” he said, the smile soon fading from his face. “You made quite the impression on everyone.”

She stared at him blankly, slowly blinking and she waited for him to continue. It was Halo who broke the silence.

“Are you left, there was a discussion about the diner. About your mother,” she said. “And the name of the account Decker has been channeling funds to.”

“Let me guess, you think the B-Y in the account name stands for Betty Young,” Emery said, meeting her eyes. “I wish I could deny it, but I have no idea if she even knew him.”

“Do you think it’s possible they were connected in some way?” Coyote asked.

Emery thought back as hard as she could. She didn’t remember much of her childhood, aside from the moments she felt the happiest. There was that one day that shadowed the rest, obviously. Thinking back about every time she was at the diner with her mother, trying to remember the faces of the customers and wondering why Dion stood out so much.

“Do you have that picture of Decker I saw the other day?” Emery asked Bob. “Or one where he was maybe twenty years younger?”

“What are you thinking, Emery?” Mickey asked as Bob logged into his emails and found the photo she’d seen yesterday morning.

Emery turned the phone to face Mickey. “Imagine him twenty years younger. Slight salt and pepper beard. Friendly smile, always said ‘hi’ to us in the diner.”

Mickey’s jaw tensed as he looked at Emery over the top of the phone. “Dion?”

Emery swallowed the contents of her glass. “Dion.”

author’s note: how y’all doing? i know @yuckosworld caught how the FBY account name could be For Betty Young, but did anyone else have their suspicions?

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