#skye babbles

[small-skye-space]

warning!!!

bad bots in da tags!! bad pictures of adults with no clothes! i saw thwee in da agere tag in five minutes D:

i block and report, please be safe evewryone :[

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Since I see you've asking lots of people this, I'm throwing the love right back at ya!

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

aowhebfofhsnwowuwbe AHHH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for asking ❤️❤️❤️😭

Well, let’s see…

I know this isn’t a popular AU of mine, but I really love the Imprisoning War AU (and, consequently, Golden Mercy as well) with my whole heart. Also it has invaded my brain so freaking much I might actually explode LOL. Idk, my mental health and life in general have been not as optimal as I would like, and this AU has been my outlet for that, which is why it’s far more hurt and less comfort than most people like. But I relate to the characters in different ways (people pleaser Link my beloved haha dude I get trying to make everything work for everyone and trying to say yes to everyone and burning yourself out; forever alone and somehow the most rational one Hemisi I feel you girl; everyone relying on you and you have to do it because when you don’t the world falls apart Zelda keep up the good fight girl), I like exploring what happens when you really push the “Zelink has to happen every time, even at the expense of other relationships” agenda that sometimes is tossed around (no hate to Zelink or its shippers, I enjoy some Zelink ships and I know many Zelink shippers who are wonderful. I just hate the idea of forcing them together all the time when there are other relationships that are clearly there lol, I’m salty about how Hyrule Warriors handled it but it was fan service so whatevs. ANYWAY. It creates great drama), and I like showing a realistic depiction of the absolute, if you’ll pardon the expression, shit show that would be left behind in the wake of such a disastrous war that Ganondorf created. It also sets up Ganondorf’s expectations, worries, and views really well for Golden Mercy, and I’m pretty excited to write a Hyrule Warriors long fic and try to redeem that giant jerk while still making it realistic and recognizing he’s a complicated guy. :) They’re all complicated, and I love characters so it’s just so much fun for me. Also, making anybody turn into a good Dad is obviously a passion of mine LOL. I’ll shut up now, but I really love this AU. ❤️ (technically I lumped two stories together for this but they’re all part of the same AU so… there lol)

Blood of the Hero is probably my current favorite long fic that I’m actively updating. The LoZ fandom is sorely lacking good parental figures (and I understand part of that is because Link just doesn’t have parents in his games and partly because people are projecting and that’s understandable), so I wanted to fix it dang it. LET LINK HAVE PARENTS WHO LOVE HIM. BOTW TALKED ABOUT HIS FAMILY. Anyway, I also love letting adults actually have a role in saving the world instead of always leaving it to the poor overwhelmed kids LOL, making them middle aged parents is an absolute bonus. And Abel being constantly tired and burnt out and done with the world speaks to my soul, and Tilieth being the one to hold on to hope despite everything and still have sensitivity and femininity to her while still being a strong character also speaks to my soul. I love them both, and I love showing how determined they are to protect their kids, as any good parent should be. They’re heavily inspired by my own parents, as well as myself, and what I would interpret Link’s parents to be like based on his upbringing and personality, so it was really fun creating their personalities. :)

I have so many Sky-centric stories that I love, but I think my favorite is probably Paradox, I had such a fun experience writing it and loved the idea of giving Fierce Deity an origin story while creating a sense of urgency and confusion and mystery and wrapping it all in a sickfic. :) I cranked that sucker out in thirty minutes and I still think it’s one of my best one shots.

I can only take partial credit for this since @nancyheart11 came up with the original premise, and because @smilesrobotlover has contributed so much as well, but I do love Dad Squad with all my heart. They’re such idiots, I adore them and their quest to save their sons who already technically saved themselves because they’re heroes. Also, the latest development in my brain of including TotK Ganondorf as the main villain from Hero of Shadow seems appropriate in making the big baddie a Bad Dad in a Dad Squad story LOL. Having Majora’s Mask in the hands of Kohga gives me life, though, and I will forever be grateful to Nancy for coming up with that premise HA. I haven’t written much for it lately, but I do love it so much. Also props to her for publishing it on AO3, I could never LOL, I’ll just throw random things on tumblr hahaha. Also, just all the fun we’re all having - the fact that multiple people have written/drawn for this AU makes it all the more precious to me, they’re our collective characters and we all get to play in the sandbox. ❤️

I don’t do much art, I’m not very good at it, but I do want to share one since I’ve shared a bit of it. I have a few pieces I’m actually really proud of, and it’s equal liking for all of them, but I’ll share just one so I don’t talk too much.

I really like this one because for once I kind of drew a face well?? And it’s at an angle I don’t usually draw and it turned out ok?? Also I’ve never drawn rain or wet hair, and I think it turned out well. And I just like Power’s design, especially at this stage in his life where his war attire/design is mixing with his royal attire/design, even if I can’t give it justice. :) Also, I think his tired expression turned out pretty well? Like he has an actual expression?? Anyway. I think it’s decent, I like it. :)

Thank you for this ask, it made me really happy and I couldn’t wait to answer it! :D But I have like 60 works on AO3 and even more here on tumblr, so there was no way I could narrow it all down, but I think I’ve listed most of my absolute favorites. :)

[wqnwoos]

what if i got my nose pierced for eid .

[sroloc--elbisivni]

the thing about the 19th century is that you find out there's a particular type of guy and that is 'born at least a century too early to kill it as a SFF author so instead he did like five literary hoaxes', and you think that there can't be that many of these guys. and on the one hand you're wrong there's like ten and that's just the famous ones, and on the other hand William Sharp is in a category all on his own.

[starjynx]

At first I just screenshot'd this because of my ✨YOKYE✨ agenda. But the longer I looked at this the funnier it became. I didn't even take into account the thirsty title I still had on & the level.

This is perfection & I needed to share it with everyone. But also on a serious note if any mutuals want to Valorant sometime, lemme know! I'm on NA!

[gobspeaks]

phoenix wright's biggest pastime is apparently solving "already solved" cases (by repeatedly, accidentally, implying that the person he's defending did it)

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(7/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @omgsuperstarg @httpsserene @peyiswriting @motheroffae @eugene-emt-roe @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @trentswrld @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 7: Who Want Smoke?

As the Qatar Grand Prix weekend kicked into high gear, Rorie and Lyric strolled the paddock, with fans waving excitedly. Lewis's popularity was stratospheric, but his family's place in the hearts of his supporters was undeniable.

They pushed through the throngs of fans and paparazzi, and Rorie was touched by the outpouring of support directed to them.

"You're an inspiration, Mrs. Hamilton!" "We love your little one!" "Hang in there, you've got this!"

One woman tentatively approached, a gentle smile on her face. "I just wanted to say, as someone who also struggled with infertility, your story gives me so much hope."

Rorie felt her throat tighten with grateful tears as she pulled the stranger into a fierce hug. "Thank you, that means so much to me."

The pit lane was abuzz with pre-race excitement as the teams made their final preparations. Rorie settled into the garage, handing a squirming Lyric over to Rosa's waiting arms. Their son, who proudly wore his custom Mercedes team romper, smiled happily at the woman.

"You're on auntie duty today," Rorie winked at Lewis's communications personnel.

Rosa grinned, cuddling the giggly toddler close on her lap. "My favorite job! We're going to have so much fun, aren't we, my little prince?"

Lyric gurgled happily, grabbing at Rosa's headset with grabby hands. With a chuckle, she gently redirected him to a Mercedes toy car instead.

"He's already a natural in front of the cameras," Rorie chuckled to herself, watching Lyric babble animatedly at the Netflix camera crew capturing footage of him playing with Rosa.

Her smile faded slightly as she scrolled through the latest flurry of emails from her legal team. Despite their relentless efforts, Julian's messages held little in the way of substantive updates on tracking down the anonymous sender of those malicious texts.

"Still digging," his latest read. "But this assailant knows how to cover their tracks."

Rorie worried her lower lip, her mind flashing back to the threats of those messages. But then Lyric's tinkling laughter drifted over, dragging her back to the present. She watched her son squirm excitedly in Rosa's lap, all smiles and unbridled joy.

As the race began, the tension in the garage was palpable. Rorie's heart pounded as she watched Lewis take his place on the starting grid, however, just seconds into the formation lap, her breath caught in her throat as she witnessed Lewis get knocked into the gravel by his teammate George, the front wing of his car destroyed.

"What the fuck is he doing?" she gasped, watching in horror as Lewis unbuckled himself and began walking along the far side of the active track back towards the pit lane.

A collective cry rose from the crew as Lewis narrowly avoided being struck by another passing car. Rorie's heart dropped to her stomach, panic gripping her.

Finally, he returned to the pit lane, jaw clenched and fists flexing agitatedly.

"What the fuck, man!!" he screamed, his fingers hurrying to take off his helmet. Rorie rushed to him, pulling his tense frame into a fierce embrace just as Lyric let out a wail of distress from Rosa's lap.

Lewis's fiery eyes softened instantly at the sound of his son's cries. He reached for the distraught toddler, cradling him close and pressing kisses to his head.

"Shhh, hey, it's okay…" he murmured soothingly. "Daddy's right here. I've got you."

Rorie wrapped her arms tightly around them both, grounding her two men with her steady, reassuring presence. Lewis melted into her embrace, the adrenaline and anger slowly seeping out of his body.

"It's okay, I'm right here," she whispered roughly into his neck, and Lewis breathed in her scent to calm his racing heart.

Rorie wrapped her arms tightly around them both, grounding her two men with her steady, reassuring presence. Lewis melted into her embrace, the adrenaline and anger slowly seeping out of his body.

"Lewis…" Bono's voice cut in tentatively. "The FIA stewards are issuing a non-driving reprimand and a 50,000 pound fine for the track incursion."

Lewis tensed, his jaw clenching as the anger flared again. "I don't give a fuck," he bit out harshly.

"Lewis!" Rorie admonished, slapping his arm chidingly before turning an apologetic look to Bono. "He doesn't mean that. We'll discuss it and work through it properly."

Once Bono had retreated, she fixed her husband with a stern look. "You don't mean that 'I don't give a fuck' nonsense."

To her surprise, Lewis simply chuckled, guiding them to a quiet corner of the garage. He set Lyric down to play with his toy car on the floor. "I mean, Toto looks pissed," he sang in a joking lilt, nodding towards his team principal's stormy expression.

Rorie rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Of course you'll joke at a time like this."

"It's a better alternative than letting the anger consume me," Lewis said simply. "Now distract me with something, beautiful."

His wife's brow furrowed in thought before her eyes lit up. "Well, Julian did text some updates earlier…"

Lewis kissed his teeth dismissively. "Something better than that mess, love."

A sly grin played across Rorie's lips. "How about…I'm a week late?"

Lewis's eyes widened comically before crinkling with unfiltered joy. "You mean…?"

"We might be having another baby," she confirmed, beaming.

Sweeping her into his arms, Lewis kissed her deeply, reverently. "That's amazing. You know we've been trying…"

Rorie nodded, still glowing. "And, Lil Yachty reached out. He wants me to join him onstage in Austin to perform our song 'The Zone' together."

Lewis's eyes widened with delight before crinkling into a broad grin. "Now that's what I'm talking about! My superstar wife, sharing the spotlight." Pulling her into an embrace, he nuzzled her neck affectionately. "You're definitely doing it. I can't wait to watch you shine, love."

"You really think so?" Rorie bit her lip, a touch of apprehension creeping into her expression. "In front of all those people..."

On a whim, she recorded her parts of the song late last year and was lucky that no one had figured out that it was her singing.

"Of course!" Lewis cupped her face adoringly. "This is your moment. You're going to be incredible, I just know it." He pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling. "And after? Well, I've got a few ideas on how we can celebrate..."

Rorie's cheeks flushed hotly, but her eyes danced with anticipation. Giggling, she swatted him playfully. "Down boy. One thing at a time."

Laughing, Rorie pulled him close, reveling in the way their latest challenges had already transformed into cherished memories in the face of potential new beginnings.

The warm Malibu evening was made for intimate gatherings among friends. Rorie surveyed their patio, smiling as she watched KiKi dance provocatively against Miles, grinding to the pulsing beat of the music.

In the kitchen, Lewis observed the scene with a slight frown. "Does she have to be so…extra?"

Rorie rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her husband's protectiveness over his best friend. "Leave them be, babe. KiKi's just having fun." Abandoning the Mediterranean salad she was prepping, she wound her arms around Lewis's waist from behind. "Speaking of fun…have you checked on your wife lately?"

He turned in her embrace, eyes twinkling as his hands skimmed over her curves. "And how is my gorgeous girl feeling?"

"Mmm, can't complain," Rorie hummed. "But I still haven't taken that test yet."

"Rorie," Lewis groaned exaggeratedly. "The suspense is killing me! You gotta take that test." He stole a slice of cucumber from the salad bowl, grinning unrepentantly when she swatted his hand.

Their gazes drifted to the patio, where Andrew now held a giggling Lyric, the toddler's babbling laughter drifting through the open doors.

"Yeah, yeah...." Rorie murmured wistfully. "I hope he's going to be a good big brother."

Lewis brushed a kiss to her temple. "He might be a bit jealous at first, but he'll grow into it, you'll see."

"I had a good rehearsal with Lil Yachty yesterday for Austin," Rorie said, changing the subject. "Though I'll probably just keep it simple with the choreography."

"That's my wise wife," Lewis chuckled. "Oh, speaking of…I've got that tequila tasting in Mexico the day after tomorrow for Almave."

Rorie clicked her tongue in playful disapproval. "So you'll miss date night with the Biebers?"

"I'll make it up to you." Lewis backed her against the counter, his voice dropping an octave. "I promise…"

The searing trail of his kisses along her neck was interrupted by Spinz's pointed clearing of his throat from the doorway.

"The food's ready, you two. Save it for later, yeah?"

Grinning unabashedly, they reluctantly disentangled and headed outside, Rorie carrying the salad while Lewis grabbed plates and utensils.

As the group settled around the patio table, Lewis raised his glass. "To new adventures - hopefully with a little one on the way…"

He was met with hoots and hollers from their crew. Rorie beamed, shaking her head in mock annoyance at his antics.

"And to smoking out whoever's been playing games," she added, eyes narrowing slightly. "Because I'll personally beat their ass when we find them."

The group erupted into raucous laughter and dug into the spread of grilled meats and vegetables. Whatever storms awaited, they would weather them together - an unbreakable crew fortified by years of love, laughter, and unwavering loyalty.

__________________________________________

The morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, rousing Rorie from her peaceful slumber. Before she could fully awaken, strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her back against Lewis's solid chest.

"Mmm, where do you think you're going?" he rumbled, voice still husky with sleep as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Rorie couldn't stifle a breathy giggle. "Insatiable, aren't we?"

She turned in his embrace, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, but Lewis deepened the kiss hungrily, his eyebrows waggling with suggestive promise.

"Always for you."

A tiny cry from the nursery broke the heated moment. Rorie regretfully unlatched herself from her husband's roaming hands.

"Duty calls," she murmured apologetically, sliding out of bed.

"Tease…" Lewis whined playfully, whipping the covers off to reveal his morning wood with a roguish grin. "Come back to Daddy once you're finished."

Rorie chuckled, shaking her head in fond exasperation. "You're awful."

"Sometimes," was his nonchalant response. "Gotta make sure I put that baby in you."

"Boy, bye," she said as she rolled her eyes. Shrugging into a silk robe, she padded down the hall to Lyric's nursery. The toddler babbled excitedly as she lifted him from the crib, nuzzling his chubby cheeks.

"Good morning, little man."

"Hi Mama!" Lyric chirped, all bright-eyed innocence.

Downstairs, the faint sound of murmurs caught Rorie's ear as she settled Lyric into his high chair with a bottle. Peering out onto the patio, she spotted KiKi in an intense conversation on her phone.

"No…I'm not doing that anymore," KiKi hissed, her back stiff with tension. "I've had enough. Goodbye!"

Rorie's eyebrows shot up incredulously as KiKi spun around, nearly dropping her phone at the sight of her friend. A sickly sweet smile pasted itself across her face.

"Hey girl! Just dealing with some work drama…" KiKi blustered, waving a dismissive hand as she breezed back inside.

Rorie's brow furrowed skeptically. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally!" KiKi replied a little too brightly. "Just a difficult customer, you know how it goes."

An uneasy prickle danced along Rorie's spine as recent events swirled in her mind. Shaking it off, she continued assembling a breakfast feast - mounds of fresh fruit, whole grain waffles, and tofu scramble for herself alongside Lyric's preferred avocado toast strips.

KiKi cleared her throat, clearly aiming to change the subject. "So…any thoughts on that test yet?"

Rorie paused, gripping the counter's edge tensely. "I don't know, Ki. Part of me wants to stay in blissful ignorance for now."

Her friend's eyes danced with both mirth and understanding. "Girl, you know that's not how it works. You gotta rip off that band-aid!"

Heaving a reluctant sigh, Rorie nodded. KiKi was right, as usual. She couldn't keep avoiding it. Just then, her phone began trilling shrilly from the other room. Rorie frowned, crossing the living area to retrieve it. The display showed Yael's name and headshot.

Answering with trepidation, she listened in growing disbelief as her image manager's anxious voice tumbled through the line.

"Rorie, you need to call your lawyer. The Sun is threatening to run another disgusting article - this time about your biological father's identity."

A bitter chuckle escaped Rorie's lips. So the rag was digging into her past yet again. She'd known the truth about her deadbeat sperm donor's identity since age twelve, his name the only paltry scrap of information her mother had given her.

"I'll look over the documents you forwarded," she assured Yael neutrally. "But I'm not concerned about that low-life's identity being made public. I've never known the man."

"I still think you should—"

A raucous clatter sounded from the kitchen, followed by Lyric's shrill giggles. Rorie's chest flooded with warmth, their call abruptly forgotten.

"Sorry, Yael but Mommy's messy boy needs me," she chuckled ruefully, hurrying back to the chaos and hanging up.

"He's such a messy eater," KiKi said with a half-smile, wiping at Lyric's face with a wet cloth. KiKi had Lyric halfway out of his high chair, his chubby limbs and cherubic face smeared with mashed avocado and fruit puree. Mother and friend shared an exasperated look as the toddler gurgled happily.

Rorie chuckled and scooped Lyric, peppering his sticky cheeks with kisses. "Oh yes, you are! Mommy's messy boy!" she cooed, causing Lyric to giggle and squirm. But then, reality intruded as Rorie glanced down at her son's soiled clothes. "Can you get him a change of clothes? I have to wipe him down," she asked KiKi.

"Of course, darling," KiKi replied, heading to the nursery. The air in Lyric’s nursery was thick with tension as KiKi entered, trying to maintain her composure despite the discomfort. Lewis was already there, his arms crossed and his expression guarded, as he paused unpacking his son's suitcase.

"Lewis," KiKi said, her voice clipped and formal.

"KiKi," Lewis replied, his tone just as cool.

They stood there for a moment, each sizing the other up, until KiKi finally broke the silence.

"Lyric had an accident so I need to get some clothes."

Lewis let out a long exhale as he walked to the chest of drawers and grabbed a onesie and a pair of shorts. He gave them to KiKi but kept his grasp on the clothes. "You've been acting weird since you got here. What's up?"

"I’m acting weird?" KiKi said, eyebrows furrowing. "Are you high or something?"

Lewis's expression hardened slightly as he released his grip on the clothes. "Just calling it as I’m seeing it."

KiKi felt a wave of anger wash over her at Lewis's accusation. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice laced with frustration.

"I mean, ever since you got here, you've been acting like you're on edge," Lewis replied, his own tone sharp. "So I just want to know what’s going on."

KiKi's jaw tightened as she processed his words. "I don’t know if crashing too many times got your head permanently fucked up, but Aurora’s my best friend, okay? I know that we don’t see eye-to-eye and y’all are knee-deep in an impending lawsuit but I’m loyal to a fault. I would NEVER do anything to mess up Rorie or Lyric."

Upon hearing his wife and son’s names, Lewis's face relaxed. "Fine," he conceded, moving out of KiKi's way. "But I’m watching you. And if I find out you’re doing anything, best believe I’ll take everything from you and have your ass deep in lawsuits you’ll never get out of."

KiKi felt a mixture of anger and hurt at Lewis's words. She knew she had made mistakes in the past, but she had never intentionally tried to hurt anyone. And for him to accuse her of such malicious intentions felt like a low blow.

"Trust me, I don't need your threats to stay in line," she retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here to help my friend, not cause any trouble."

Lewis gave her a cold look before leaving the nursery. KiKi took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before she did or said something that she would regret. She left the nursery and returned downstairs, uneasy about her encounter with Lewis. Returning to the kitchen, she spotted Rorie wiping off an unclothed Lyric in the sink. Rorie’s face lit up as soon as she saw KiKi.

"Thanks, sweetie," she said to her friend as KiKi handed her the new clothes.

KiKi nodded, returning Rorie's smile. "No problem, I'm just glad I could help." She glanced around the kitchen, noticing that it was a bit chaotic with dishes in the sink and food left out on the counter. "Do you want me to help clean up?"

Rorie shook her head. "No need, we have a maid who should be coming now, but thanks for offering." She turned her attention back to Lyric and gently dried him off before putting on his new onesie and shorts.

KiKi watched the exchange between mother and son, feeling a pang of envy in her heart. She had always dreamed of having a child of her own one day, but with her career constantly taking priority, she wasn't sure if that would ever happen.

As if sensing her thoughts, Rorie looked up at KiKi and gave her a sympathetic smile. "You'll find someone who loves you enough to start a family with," she said softly.

KiKi managed a small smile in return. She wasn't ready to open up about her struggles with relationships yet, especially since Rorie already had a lot going on. "Thanks, girl."

Two days later, the Crypto.com Arena buzzed with anticipation as the Lakers faced off against the Warriors in a preseason matchup. Rorie settled into her courtside seat next to Hailey Bieber, both women drawing appreciative glances from nearby fans.

"God, I needed this," Rorie sighed, sinking into the plush seat. "A night out without any mama duties."

Hailey grinned, nudging her friend playfully. "And how's that test situation going?"

Rorie groaned, rolling her eyes. "Not you too. I swear, between Lewis and KiKi, I'm about ready to scream."

"Hey, no judgment here," Hailey said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "But you know we're all rooting for you, right?" Hailey squeezed her friend's hand supportively.

Rorie groaned. "I know I should take that test, but… I don't know. Part of me is scared to know for sure."

"Because of how hard it was before Lyric?" Hailey guessed.

Rorie nodded. "Yeah. And I've been feeling off lately, but it could be anything, you know? Stress, my crazy schedule, whatever. I guess I'm in denial."

The roar of the crowd swelled as LeBron executed a flawless alley-oop, momentarily drowning out their conversation. Rorie found herself swept up in the excitement, her worries fading to the background as she cheered along with the rest of the arena.

As the game progressed, Rorie's phone buzzed insistently in her purse. She ignored it, determined to enjoy this rare night of freedom. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if it might be Nina, calling about Lyric.

During a timeout, Hailey leaned in close, her voice low. "So, what's the latest with that lawsuit against The Sun? Justin mentioned you guys were dealing with some heavy stuff."

Rorie's brow furrowed, a familiar unease settling in her stomach. "It's a mess, girl. They're digging into my past now, threatening to publish stuff about my biological father. As if I give a damn about that deadbeat."

"That's awful," Hailey sympathized. "How are you holding up?"

Rorie shrugged, her eyes fixed on the court. "I'm managing. It's just… exhausting, you know? And with everything else going on…"

She trailed off as the timeout ended, the thunderous applause once again filling the arena. Rorie's gaze drifted to the jumbotron, where she caught sight of herself and Hailey on the celebrity cam. They both laughed, striking exaggerated poses for the camera.

As the game entered its final quarter, Rorie found her mind wandering. The constant scrutiny of her personal life, the pressure of her career, the looming possibility of another child – it all swirled together in a dizzying whirlpool of emotion.

"Earth to Rorie," Hailey's voice cut through her reverie. "You good?"

Rorie said nothing, her silence speaking volumes.

Hailey raised an eyebrow, clearly concerned. "Okay, spill. What's really going on?"

Rorie hesitated, then sighed. "It's just… everything. The lawsuit, the baby stuff, and now KiKi's been acting weird. I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid."

"Weird how?" Hailey pressed gently.

"I overheard her on the phone the other day, sounding all secretive. And Lewis swears something's up with her." Rorie shook her head. "I want to believe she'd never do anything to hurt us, but…"

The final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the preseason game. As they stood to leave, Rorie's phone buzzed again. This time, she fished it out, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Yael's name on the screen.

"Everything okay?" Hailey asked, concern evident in her voice.

Rorie hesitated, then shook her head. "It's fine. Just some work stuff. Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

As they made their way through the throng of departing fans, Rorie couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing on the horizon. Whether it was the potential pregnancy, KiKi's strange behavior, or this latest message from Yael, she couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain – the calm before the storm was coming to an end.

"Hey," Hailey said softly, linking her arm through Rorie's. "Whatever's going on, you know you've got us, right? Me, Justin, your whole crew – we've got your back."

Rorie managed a genuine smile, feeling a rush of gratitude for her friend. "I know. Thanks, babe."

____________________________________________________

As Rorie drove home, her mind drifted to her upcoming show with Lil Yachty. She dialed his number, a smile spreading across her face as he picked up.

"Lil' Boat!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

Yachty's laughter filled the car. "Hey there, Ror-Ror! How's my sis?"

They chatted animatedly about their upcoming performance, bouncing ideas off each other and sharing their excitement. When Rorie turned onto her street, however, her good mood evaporated. A swarm of paparazzi clogged the road, their cameras flashing incessantly.

At first, she assumed they were there for one of her celebrity neighbors. But as she inched closer to her house, her stomach dropped. The mob was camped out in front of her own property.

"Oh hell no!" she shouted, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"What's the matter?" Yachty's concerned voice came through the speakers.

"I'll call you back," Rorie said tersely, ending the call.

Police officers were struggling to keep the paparazzi at bay. As soon as they spotted Rorie's car, the crowd surged forward, shouting questions and snapping photos.

"Rorie! How do you feel about The Sun's article on your mother's affair?" "Did you know about your father before this?" "What's your reaction to your father wanting a relationship?"

The cacophony was overwhelming. Rorie kept her eyes straight ahead as the police cleared a path for her to reach her garage. She parked quickly and practically ran into the house, her heart pounding.

She found Yael, Penni, and Lewis deep in conversation in the living room. They all looked up as she entered, their faces grim.

"What's going on?" Rorie demanded, her voice shaky.

Yael stepped forward. "Did you see my texts?"

"No," Rorie replied, looking to Lewis. "What's happening?"

Lewis sighed heavily before speaking. "The Sun published an article about your biological father."

Rorie shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "So what? I don't care if they know who he is. He was never part of my life anyway."

The others exchanged uneasy glances, which didn't escape Rorie's notice.

"What?" she pressed. "Why is it such a big deal?"

Lewis took a deep breath. "Your biological father… he did an interview with Piers Morgan. He's claiming your mother kept you away from him, and now he wants a relationship with you."

"That's bullshit!" Rorie exploded.

Yael jumped in. "That might be true, but the public doesn't know that. Worse, his wife was in the interview too. She said they were separated when he had the affair with your mom, and now she wants to meet you and Lyric. They're portraying themselves as victims and… well, they're putting all the blame on your mother."

Rorie felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "Has anyone talked to my mom?"

"We all have," Lewis said softly. "I just got off the phone with her before you arrived."

Rorie reached for her phone. "I need to call her."

Yael and Penni stepped forward, gently restraining her. "Wait," Penni said. "We're putting together a statement with evidence to counter their claims."

"We're also preparing another cease and desist letter for The Sun," Yael added. "And we're working on getting a gag order for your father and his family."

"My father," Rorie spat the word like it was poison, laughing bitterly. "And now he wants to play daddy? After all these years?"

Deemed the Black Bill Gates, Martin Edwards III is a real estate magnate and investor who cared only for himself. He never loved her mother - she was just a poor maid who got caught up in his web of lies. Of course, her mother should've never gotten involved with a married man, but Martin failed to claim Rorie as one of his children. He even had the gall to demand her mother get an abortion.

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation hanging heavily in the air. Rorie felt a mix of anger, confusion, and hurt swirling inside her. She'd spent her whole life not caring about her poor excuse of a sperm donor, and now he was threatening to upend everything.

"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "We fight back, babe. We protect our family and we tell our truth. That's all we can do."

Rorie nodded against his chest, drawing strength from his embrace. Whatever storm was coming, she knew she had her real family – the ones who'd always been there – by her side. And that, she realized, was worth more than any long-lost father's claims could ever be.

The oppressive Texas heat shimmered off the tarmac as Lewis Hamilton's sleek Mercedes-AMG pulled into the Circuit of the Americas. The sprawling track, with its iconic observation tower in the distance, buzzed with the frenetic energy of Formula 1 media day. Pit crews scurried about, the air filled with the cacophony of revving engines and the chatter of eager fans and journalists.

Lewis took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of Lyric's cherubic face in the car seat behind him. The toddler was blissfully unaware of the chaos around their family, his tiny fingers playing with a toy race car.

As Lewis opened the car door, the wall of heat hit him in full force. He rounded the vehicle, opening the back door to unbuckle Lyric from his car seat. "Come on, little man," he murmured, lifting his son and perching him securely on his hip. Lewis hiked the diaper bag higher on his other shoulder, adjusting his designer sunglasses as he surveyed the paddock area.

His bodyguard moved ahead, creating a path through the throng of people. "Some space, please," the guard requested firmly but politely. Fans pressed forward, waving items for autographs, while photographers' cameras clicked in rapid succession.

Lewis approached the paddock entrance, shifting Lyric slightly to free up a hand. He fished out his ID card, swiping it through the turnstile with practiced ease. The familiar beep and click signaled his official arrival for the day.

As he made his way through the paddock to the Mercedes garage, Lewis nodded to his crew members, his mind racing with thoughts of Rorie. She'd been so sick lately – more than just the usual pre-performance jitters. The constant nausea, her heightened sense of smell, the fatigue that seemed to cling to her... All signs pointed to pregnancy, but Rorie steadfastly refused to take a test. Lewis understood her hesitation, remembering the heartache they'd endured before Lyric, but he couldn't help the glimmer of hope that sparked in his chest. The upcoming Austin City Limits festival loomed large in his mind. Despite everything, Rorie was still determined to perform. He felt a surge of pride thinking about her resilience, her talent; and wanted nothing more than to see her conquer the world stage, to watch her dreams unfold even as they navigated this storm together.

His phone buzzed with a notification - the flowers he'd sent to Rorie's mother had been delivered. A small gesture, but one he hoped would bring some comfort. The media circus surrounding Rorie's biological father had been relentless. He'd done everything he could to shield his family – hiring additional security, considering legal action against some of the more aggressive paparazzi, and even arranging for Rorie's mother, stepfather, and sister to be relocated temporarily to their home in Denver.

Lewis's jaw set with determination. The Sun's underhanded tactics, and the sudden appearance of Rorie's biological father - it all fueled a fire within him. He was committed to bringing down the tabloid, to make them pay for the pain they'd caused his family. The lawsuit proceedings were set to begin next month, and Lewis was ready for battle. The support from their friends had been overwhelming. Just that morning, he'd received messages of encouragement from the Biebers, Beyoncé and Jay-Z, and Rihanna. Their united front against the media onslaught was a testament to the bonds they'd forged over the years.

Lewis spotted Nina, their nanny, making her way through the garage. He felt a mix of relief and reluctance as he prepared to hand Lyric over. Part of him wanted to keep his son close, a tangible reminder of what truly mattered amidst the craziness of race day and ongoing personal drama.

"Lewis," Rosa approached. "The press conference is in ten minutes."

Lewis nodded, giving Lyric a final squeeze before passing him to Nina. "Be good for Nina, okay?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead.

Lewis made his way towards the press conference area, his mind racing with thoughts of Rorie and the impending media onslaught. He knew the questions wouldn't just be about the upcoming race or his strategies for the circuit. The recent revelations about Rorie's biological father had become fodder for gossip columns and social media speculation.

As he walked, he nodded to a few fellow drivers - Valterri gave him a supportive pat on the back, while Charles offered a quiet "All's good?" Lewis appreciated their discretion and support, a stark contrast to the rabid curiosity of the waiting press.

_____________________________________________

Once the press conference was finished, which thankfully focused more on the upcoming race than personal matters, Lewis found himself surrounded by his fellow drivers.

"Hey, Lewis," Pierre called out, a grin on his face. "Is it true Rorie's performing at Austin City Limits tonight?"

Lewis nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yeah, she is. You guys planning to come?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Pierre replied enthusiastically. Several other drivers chimed in with their interest as well.

Lewis spent the next hour with Lyric, cherishing the quiet moments with his son, and when he was about to head to get lunch, Toto approached.

"Lewis, can you come to my office for a moment?" Toto's expression was unreadable.

Handing Lyric back to Nina and Rosa, Lewis followed Toto, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. As they entered the office, Lewis froze. Sitting there, looking far too comfortable, was Martin Edwards - Rorie's biological father.

Lewis's jaw clenched. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Toto held up his hands. "He requested to speak with you. I thought it best to provide a neutral and private space."

Reluctantly, Lewis took a seat across from Martin, his posture rigid.

Martin leaned forward, a smile plastered on his face. "That boy of yours, Lyric - he's the spitting image of you. That's really your seed. Can't deny that baby even if you wanted to," he chuckled as if he'd said something hilarious.

Lewis remained stoic, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. "What do you want, Martin? Haven't you fucked up enough?"

Martin's smile faded slightly. "I want to make things right. I've missed out on so much of Aurora's life—"

"Rorie," Lewis corrected sharply. "She goes by Rorie."

Martin nodded, continuing, "Rorie, then. I want to be a part of her life, of my grandson's life."

Lewis's voice was low and controlled. "You had years to be a part of Rorie's life. You chose not to be. And now, what? You think you can just waltz in because it's convenient for you?"

"I made mistakes," Martin admitted. "But I want to fix them. Surely you can understand that, as a father yourself?"

Lewis felt a surge of anger. "As a father, I understand being there for your child, no matter what. Something you know nothing about."

The tension in the room was palpable. Toto shifted uncomfortably, clearly regretting his decision to facilitate this meeting.

"Look," Martin said, his tone changing to one of barely concealed frustration, "I have rights. I'm her father—"

"No," Lewis cut him off, standing up. "You're the man who contributed DNA. I'm her family. We're her family. And we'll do whatever it takes to protect her and Lyric from this circus you've created."

With that, Lewis turned to leave. As he reached the door, he paused, looking back at Martin. "If you really care about Rorie, you'll respect her wishes. And right now, she doesn't want anything to do with you."

Leaving Martin and a stunned Toto behind, Lewis strode out of the office, his mind already racing with plans to further shield his family from whatever Martin Edwards seemed determined to bring.

That motherfucker had another thing coming if he thought he was getting close to my family. Nigga going to end up meeting nothing more than the barrel of my gun if he keeps fucking around.

For the rest of the day, Lewis shifted his focus away from what occurred in Toto's office, ultimately deciding against mentioning the impromptu meeting with Martin. Rorie was already stressed for a myriad of reasons, and Lewis would be damned if he brought more bad news to her. His wife needed to focus on her performance - nothing more, nothing less. He'd handle everything else.

That was what a husband and father did - properly lead his family and protect them, which wasn't something Martin knew anything about. An intrusive thought wondered how Martin could just weasel his way into speaking with Toto and demanding a meeting with him, but then Lewis remembered how having obscene amounts of money could always provide access to certain people.

His phone rang and Rorie's smiling face lit up the screen.

"Hey, babe," he answered.

"Hey," Rorie replied. There was a pause before she continued, "Is everything okay? You sound... off."

Lewis hesitated for a moment before responding, "Just race stuff, you know how it is. Nothing to worry about."

"Mm-hmm," Rorie hummed, not entirely convinced. "Can you bring home something sweet and salty when you're done?"

Lewis let out a laugh, the tension from earlier melting away.

"What's so funny?" Rorie asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Nothing, nothing," Lewis chuckled. "It's just... the last time you asked for this exact combination, you were pregnant with Lyric. Still in denial, are we?"

Rorie huffed. "I just want that, okay? Don't make it a big deal."

"Alright, alright," Lewis conceded, grinning. "I'll bring something back for you. And you know what? I'll grab a pregnancy test too, so we can stop fucking around and know for sure."

"Whatever," Rorie grumbled, but Lewis could hear the smile in her voice.

"Love you too, babe," Lewis said, his tone softening. "I'll see you soon."

As the call ended, Lewis pocketed his phone, a mix of emotions swirling within him. The day's events - from the press conference to the unexpected encounter with Martin - seemed to fade into the background. What mattered now was Rorie, their family, and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Lewis glanced at his watch, mentally calculating how long it would take to wrap up his duties at the track, find Rorie's requested snacks, and make it back to the hotel. He had a pregnant wife to take care of - whether she was ready to admit it or not.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Zilker Park, Rorie stood backstage at Austin City Limits, her heart racing. The air was thick with anticipation, the distant roar of the crowd washing over her like waves. Lil Yachty's energetic performance was coming to a close, his last song echoing through the night.

Rorie closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm her churning stomach. She'd barely kept down her dinner, a combination of nerves and what she stubbornly refused to acknowledge might be morning sickness. The thought of pregnancy flitted through her mind again, reminding her that she had a test to take after the show, but she pushed it aside.

Focus, she told herself. The show comes first.

She silently thanked the universe for the unwavering support of her husband, friends, and family. Their love had been her anchor in the stormy seas of recent events.

The crowd's cheers swelled as Lil Yachty addressed them, his voice booming through the speakers. "Y'all ready for something special?" The response was deafening. "DJ, hit it!"

The opening beats of "The Zone" began to pulse through the air. Lil Yachty started his verse, the crowd singing along. Then, he paused, his voice filled with excitement. "Now, give a warm Austin welcome to the one, the only… Rorie!"

Taking a final deep breath, Rorie stepped out from behind the curtain. The sea of faces before her erupted in screams and applause. The energy was electric, palpable.

As she began to sing, her rich voice filling the night air, Rorie's eyes scanned the crowd. In the VIP section, she immediately spotted Lewis, his proud smile visible even from a distance. Beside him were Yael, Pierre, Charles, Valtteri, and Susie, all cheering her on.

"I never meant to make you feel alone," she sang, her voice carrying emotion with every word. "A non-chivalrous tone you've used since I got home. I feel wrong, deep down inside, I'm stoned. I feel cold and alone."

The lyrics seemed to take on a new meaning, reflecting the turmoil of recent weeks. But as she continued, Rorie felt a surge of strength.

"But now I know that you love me (Love me). Will you put anyone above me? Let me know, is this home?"

As she sang the last line, her eyes locked with Lewis's. In that moment, despite the thousands of people surrounding them, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. This was home, she realized. Not a place, but the people who stood by her through everything.

The music swelled, and Rorie threw herself fully into the performance, letting the rhythm and the energy of the crowd wash away her worries, if only for this magical moment under the Austin stars.

As the last notes of "The Zone" faded, the crowd's enthusiasm remained at fever pitch. Lil Yachty engaged with the audience, asking if they wanted to hear more. The resounding cheers and screams made the answer clear.

Rorie glanced back at the VIP section, catching Lewis's eye as he recorded the entire performance on his phone. The crowd began chanting her name, the sound washing over her in waves of adoration and support. Overwhelmed with emotion, Rorie felt tears prick at her eyes.

"You hearing this, Ror? They love you!" he shouted over the noise.

Rorie nodded, visibly moved. "This is incredible," she managed to say.

Lil Yachty addressed the audience. "Y'all want more from Rorie?" The answering roar was deafening. "Alright, alright!" Lil Yachty laughed. "Let's give them what they want, big sis!"

The opening chords of "Running Out of Time" began to play, eliciting another round of cheers from the audience. Rorie and Lil Yachty's voices blended beautifully, the lyrics touching on themes of time, connection, and staying together. The audience swayed and sang along, clearly familiar with the song.

When the performance ended, Rorie took a deep bow, her heart pounding with adrenaline and emotion. She lingered for a moment offstage, basking in the continued chants of her name from the adoring crowd.

Later, as she relaxed with Lewis and their group, enjoying the rest of the festival, everyone showered her with hugs and praise.

"That was incredible, Rorie!" Pierre exclaimed, giving her a warm hug.

Lewis pulled her close, kissing her with an intensity that made their friends playfully protest.

"Get a room, you two!" Charles laughed, shaking his head.

Lewis grinned, his eyes never leaving Rorie's face. "I'm just incredibly proud of my wife," he said, his voice full of love and admiration.

As the night wound down, Lewis and Rorie found themselves in the back of a car, heading back to their hotel. Lewis's hand rested on Rorie's thigh, his brown eyes fixed on her face.

"What?" Rorie asked, noticing his intense gaze. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Because I love you, baby," Lewis replied softly. "I love you so much."

Rorie smiled, her heart swelling. "I love you too, Pookie."

Lewis leaned in closer, his voice low. "And knowing that you might be carrying another seed…fuck Rorie, you don't even know what's in store when we get back."

Rorie giggled at his enthusiasm. He could be such a dirty freak at times. "Lewis, we don't know if I'm—"

"You are," he interrupted gently. "I can smell it."

"Oh? And what does that smell like, Lewis?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief and love. "Smells like a woman strengthening my bloodline."

"Goodness, you sound like such a caveman," she teased, but his words only heightened her arousal.

"But you like that shit," he murmured, pulling her closer for a deep, loving kiss.

And do.

Lewis wasted no time in carrying Rorie inside the bedroom once they arrived at their hotel. He set her down on the bed and began undressing her slowly, taking in every inch of her body.

His lips trailed down her neck and onto her chest, Rorie let out a soft moan and arched into him, craving more of his touch. He knew every sensitive spot on her body, and it drove her wild with desire. Lewis moved lower, planting kisses on her stomach until he reached the apex of her thighs. His hands firmly held onto her hips as he teased her with delicate licks and flicks of his tongue.

Rorie's breath hitched as she felt herself becoming wetter with each passing moment. She reached down to tangle her fingers in Lewis's braids, urging him on. "Oooh baby, don't stop."

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Lewis obliged and began sucking on Rorie's clit, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. Her moans grew louder as she neared climax, and she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Fuck!" Lewis’s tongue soon brought Rorie to an explosive orgasm that left her panting and trembling beneath him.

"Mmm, you taste so good," he murmured.

Rorie came down from her high, and Lewis crawled up her body to kiss her deeply. She could taste herself on his lips, and it only turned her on even more.

"I want you inside me," she whispered against his lips.

Lewis groaned and quickly positioned himself between her legs. Rorie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slid into her in one smooth thrust.

They moved together in perfect rhythm. It wasn't just about the physical pleasure for them; it was about the deep connection they shared. With each movement, they were both expressing their love and desire for each other.

Rorie ran her hands over Lewis's back, feeling the muscles flex beneath her touch. She loved how strong and powerful he was, yet how gentle and attentive he could be with her.

Their lovemaking became more intense as they both approached their release. Rorie cried out Lewis's name as she came once again, and he followed soon after with a deep grunt of satisfaction.

They collapsed onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty skin. Lewis rolled onto his side to face Rorie, pulling her close to him. As they cuddled in each other's arms, Rorie couldn't help but think about the possibility of being pregnant again. She knew Lewis would be overjoyed at the news, but she couldn't shake off the slight fear and anxiety that crept into her mind.

"Are you okay?" Lewis asked softly, sensing something was bothering her.

"I…I'm just thinking about what might happen if I am pregnant," Rorie admitted hesitantly.

Lewis's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Hey, whatever happens, we'll handle it together. We've been through so much already and have come out stronger."

Rorie's heart swelled with love for this man who always knew exactly what to say to comfort her. "I know…I just don't want to disappoint you if I'm not pregnant."

Lewis shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss on Rorie's forehead. "You could never disappoint me, baby. Our love is so much more than having another child."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling grateful for their love. "We should just take the test," she said firmly.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, let's just get it over with." Rorie stood up abruptly and walked to the bathroom. The pregnancy test was sitting on the counter, and with trembling hands, she unwrapped it and followed the instructions carefully.

She then nervously paced around the bathroom as Lewis watched intently, waiting anxiously for the results. As the timer beeped, Rorie's heart raced in anticipation. She closed her eyes and prayed for a positive result.

Slowly opening her eyes, she looked down at the test and saw two distinct lines. A wave of emotions washed over her as she realized that she was indeed pregnant.

Tears of joy streamed down Rorie's face as she stepped out of the bathroom to show Lewis. He immediately wrapped her in his arms, knowing without words what the result was.

"We're going to have another baby," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and happiness.

Rorie nodded, unable to speak through her tears. They held each other in silence for a few moments before Lewis pulled back to look at Rorie's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

"I'm just so happy," she managed to say before kissing him passionately.

The California sun hung low in the sky as the woman drove toward a discreet restaurant nestled off the Malibu coast. The sleek, modern lines of the Hamilton's mansion were barely visible from the road, obscured by sprawling trees and winding driveways. The ocean’s rhythmic crash played in the background, but all that resonated in the woman’s mind was the bitter truth she clutched like a weapon.

The restaurant’s parking lot was mostly empty, save for a lone car parked in a shadowed corner. The woman’s heeled boots crunched over loose gravel as she approached. The maid, nondescript and dressed in plain clothes, glanced up from where she leaned against the car’s door. Her eyes were wary, darting around as though expecting to see someone lurking.

"You’re late," the maid muttered, shifting nervously.

"Traffic," the woman replied, dismissively. "Do you have what I need?"

The maid hesitated before producing a small USB drive. She handed it over with trembling fingers. "I can’t be seen doing this. If Rorie finds out…"

"She won’t," the woman interjected sharply. "You just keep your head down and play your role. If she suspects anything, you’re done. But right now, I’m your best bet for protection."

The maid swallowed hard, clearly torn. "Why are you even doing this? Rorie has been good to me...she treats my kids like her own."

The woman’s expression darkened. "You think kindness and loyalty matter to people like her? She uses them as currency to keep you close until you’re no longer valuable. Believe me, I know better than anyone. And if you want any fucking help getting your husband to Los Angeles, you shut your goddamn mouth, okay?"

Silence fell between them as the reality of their situation settled in. Eventually, the maid nodded, wiping her palms nervously against her jeans. "Okay, but be careful. This game you’re playing—people get hurt."

The woman tucked the USB into her jacket pocket and turned on her heel. "People always get hurt. It’s just a question of who gets hurt first."

As she walked away, the wind picked up, rustling through the palm trees and carrying the distant hum of approaching cars. The maid stayed put, watching the woman disappear into her car before driving off like a bat out of hell.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[names-for-alters]

Hello one and all, alters and headmates! I am Charlie! I like to make lists! I also hoard names! Are you looking for a name? GREAT! You can send an ask and request a specific aesthetic or origin of name, or you can look at my list!

With that said…

…Cracks knuckles…

Findo Tach Tails Flicker Tracer Kat Iris Blu Brick Arlo Sammy Artie Finn Stein Aleksandr Vora Olive Luna Nyx Cyrus Qrow Orian Cello Onyx Skye Grim Opal Dawn Azure Fish Bones Poppy Bronze Eggs Sparky Specs Snickers Trout Navi Bingo Chili Bandit Stripe Busker Socks Brandy Frisky Winston Lucky Chucky Bently Judo Rusty Max Honey Indie Calypso Striker Merle Moxxie Vex Ant Bugger Bee Spider Tails Hook Indigo Amber Coco Coral Scarlet Ivory Jade Ruby Emerald Chuck Loden Copper Hamelin Neo Shepard Cinnamon Visor Macalister Soul Hack Hiccup Flynn Rider Astrid Jay Raven Robyn Bolt Dagger Viper Tracer Cornwall Flock Sapphire Crystal Ghost Mochi Trick Catra Rose Raven Flip Chani Racket Red Crimson Dragon Runt Scotch Tellie Gator Croc Crow Goat Duck Creeper Kuma Jet Jeep Draco Poppy Sombra Raine Squish Spike Blaze Ender Drake Sandy MK PJ DJ CJ MJ King Creak Shadow Clay Dusty Miles Dart Willow Antonius Husk Moth Cypher Jin Yin Yang Daisy Gray / Grey Alistair Halo Angel Cake Fennec Fox Null Lull Bastion Lucky Sun Star Cosmo Tweety Vox Nerys Sonic Bark Birch Oak Cherry Blossom Peaches Velvet Shell Coffee Valley Fang Moot Redpath Pudding X V Jr Ether Fig Trunk Joy Frogger Snowflake Snowball Snow Jumper Racket Flare Vendetta Loonie Coin Six Eleven Tropica Stelina Mojave Ink Sud Fender Zero Pollen Wysteria Page Ozias Rex Tortch Buck Nickel Stripe Lynch Tramp Wolf Pup Tank Jhariah Kharma Zenith Sparrow Prism Lemon Mune Lamb Pyke Diamond Parker Graves Fizz Nugget Melody Tink Blight Fangless Ambress Vulture Eclipse Luka Bangle Constance Constantine Sommar Babble Clank Bobble Chipper Aidan Slate Tin Twire Zephyr Silver Misty Faunus Atlas Birdie Brook Cedar Chip Coal Daisy Ember Faye Fate Fern Flint Harmony Helios Ivy Junx Kit Lyria Phoebe Piper Lady Beacon Elos Rumble Ida Cross Zed Scootie Smidge Clauger Happy Sonny Hath Soldier River Song Clawtor Videl Legen Onen Chunk Reid Pop Cobra Cash Clover Saris Volante Donna Belladonna Gale Chopper Morphias Vidia Loft Kape Levi Licker Howl Dustin Newt Creek Breezy Polaris Blight Archer Sirius Warren Dream Goon Cookie Ranger Amity Jericho Viggo Besko Asra Alice Olaf Mossfeld Issic Missy Rascal Creasy Nonya Hex Pita Miguel Manuel Rayburn Daisy Dash Lucky Becky Steele Cylo Featherstone Kingston Netherfield Reacher Saltburn Quick Rubble Dust Brimstone Humble Ado Grover Norvanos Leshy Blade Cooper Calcium

Leo

Leonardo

Lebony

Silver

Linzier

Pearl

blackberry

Tatin

Bud

Raphael

Pebble

Mina

Linda

Oolong

Daeo/Dayo/Dao

Inco

Ketlyn

Risa

Ines

Lora

Flock

Lux

Rix

Reah

Destinty

Bet

Ange

Krixa

Lalien

Gloom

Bug

Rozy

Mars

Screech

Jenny

Robert

Patrick

Pierre Rosemary

Henderson

Mayfield

Sinclair

Sullivan

Hart

Solace

Daughtler

Stoll

Gatlin

Yearwood

Amos

Graves

Rothschild

Halley

Spektor

Presley

Redd

Blackwood

Notvletti

Valerie

Milo

Marian

Lychee

Aiden

Nova

Vel

Bel

Yuri

Puro

Pluto

Ramona

Angel

Nada

Shen

Mog

Hania

Udge

Kinetic

Kikos Wathel

Dupa

Sierre

Jimor

Teddy

coc

Scara

River

Shade

Foenem

Duck

Emily

Toast

Reunna

Ichigo

Rae

Sonic

MoonL

Lennus

cabaran

Marto

Leveer

Granite

Tongle

Gavril

Luella

Malachite

Leonard

[lorata]

Dexter & Callista, 57

for @transrevolutions on your natal day, here is uhhh some ... dark ....... conversations about death and mentoring, anger and violence and tributes who don't usually get a lot of attention? (skye & jasper)

SORRY I TRIED TO WRITE CREED but this happened instead

warnings for: canon-typical violence (arena and otherwise), mentions of offscreen victor prostitution

------------------------

Skye crumples to the ground, his chest a bloody ruin, and Two’s newest mentor brings home her first victor without even trying. Dexter had played nice with her because why not, kid had been terrified and heartsick like all of them their first time in the ring and soon she’d know the ugly stench of loss like everyone else, that sick little bonding ritual that brought them all together. Joke’s on him, though, looks like she didn’t need his condescension.

“Good game,” Dexter grinds out dully as he pushes himself to his feet, mostly because Phillips made such a fucking scene about it when his died and it feels like there’s a point to prove somewhere. Not that anybody notices, it’s endgame now so there are morgues to visit and families to call and consolation speeches to choke out for the losers. Starting tonight, sponsors will be looking to cash in their failed investments, but he can’t — not right now, not yet.

For the winners — well, Dexter wouldn’t know. He’s never brought one back alive.

The corridors bustle with activity, Avoxes and runners hustling and upstart nepotism-gifted junior Gamemakers barking out orders to make themselves feel important with their bosses busy upstairs. Someone slams hard into Dexter, knocking him fully sideways, but he keeps walking, ignoring the babbled apology.

Cannot go to the One floor, with its perfumed showers and apologetic escort and list of assignments likely already waiting. Not the mentor common floor, either, with the pity-party raging and where they will not welcome the almost-rans who murdered all the early losers. The roof, then — not the penthouse garden above the tribute apartments, home of District 12’s fresh meat, but like much of the Capitol there’s the glitzy, glittery parts for show and then there’s everything else. A few slipped pills to an Avox and Dexter’s in an access elevator to a square of rooftop nestled halfway up the complex between two spires.

He expects the gritty concrete and traffic grime, the blare of distant celebrations and occasional blaze of a travelling strobe light; he does not expect a goddess in athleisure with her feet propped up against the wall, smoking a noxious-smelling cigarette. “New girl won,” Dexter says, to give himself some time.

Callista exhales a long plume of smoke. After waiting a while for her reply, Dexter decides that must be it and lowers himself down across from her. “You know those things will kill you,” he says, out of some stupid compulsion. He can’t look at carbohydrates without feeling an itch to stuff his fingers down his throat and the only euphoria he’s ever experienced came in tablet form passed via Callista’s tongue, but his minders would have whipped him for that.

“I,” Callista says with grave reverence, “am microdosing on mortality.”

“What, all this isn’t enough for you?” He waves an arm behind them, where a condominium complex has projected the faces of all the tributes. As he watches, Skye and Camphor switch from full colour to black and white.

But at the same time, he knows what she means. They don’t make a drug mean enough for what he wants, they don’t make drugs that fill your lungs with tar and ash, that scrape your throat and make you rasp and cough. He failed, again. A beautiful, hopeful, stupid, cocky child has died, again. Sparkly club drugs and golden thrumming in his veins won’t help him now.

Callista hands it over. Dexter inhales deep — oh, big mistake, his lungs immediately protest — he chokes, spluttering, passes the cigarette back as his head spins and his stomach turns over. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall. “We were so close. So close.”

She hums. “You had a sweet one this year. How would he have fared, your boy? When they got their claws in him.”

Skye — was sweet, for One. He and Camphor had made themselves a killer pair. They’d known how to work it, too, rinsing each other off by the lake, curling up at night, teasing the audience without ever taking real advantage of each other. If it had been the two of them in the end, Dexter has no doubts they would have fought it out without hard feelings, true professionals, no hidden barbs and buried hatred coming out to play.

And when he won, it would be Dexter’s job to remind him of the cost. To sit him down, give him the list of names, and tell him exactly how they liked it, exactly as his mentor had done with him.

Anger flares, better than any drug. Dexter clings to it even as it slips through his fingers, like blood-slick intestine. “Is this you trying to make me feel better? Better he’s dead than have to suffer my life?”

Calista stares at him, incomprehending, and he could do it now, could throw himself at her and wrap his arms around her throat, bash his fists into her skull and leave her face a bloody pulp, shove her over the edge and let the sidewalk take her, every single awful, ugly urge that bubbles up when he’s on his knees but he isn’t in some plush bedroom now, is he, and she has no power over him —

“I apologize,” Callista says, and Dexter nearly screams no, don’t, I need to feel this, don’t you say you’re sorry to me but it’s too late, it all deflates. “I am furious. I want to kill. I want to feel the blood again, I want to hurt — I want to hurt.” She says it one more time, reverent, like a litany. “I wanted to hurt.”

“How can you say it like that.” Dexter almost laughs, except it’s not funny, he just — can’t make the pieces fit together. “You say these things and you’re just … sitting there, smoking. You sound like you’re ordering caviar at dinner.”

“This is how I always sound.” Callista bares her teeth in a smile that sets his skin crawling. “Ladies do not raise their voice. Ladies are elegant. Ladies —“

“Kill the guy they’re having sex with on live television and scar impressionable young boys? Come on.”

Callista huffs a sound somewhere between a snort and a snicker. “Not all of them, clearly.”

Everything is fucked, Dexter thinks, Skye should be alive and he should not be in a complicated mutilation-and-orgasms situationship with a rival mentor, but here they are. “That was still a shitty thing to say.”

Out in the streets the victory fanfare plays on tinny loop from a dessert truck. Callista closes her eyes. “I thought the Arena would make it stop,” she says. “I want to hurt — everything, everyone, all the time. I practice control with things that matter but give me an excuse and I will tear your throat out. You were wounded and I knew I could hurt you. You may take a free shot, if you’d like.”

Well, that gave him something to chew on when his brain isn’t stuffed with Skye’s death stare — Callista’s mouth on his, hand sliding between his legs, crammed into a back alley with an unconscious man’s blood pooling at their feet; the time he asked her to make him hurt and she took him close, but not quite, to using the safe word she’d taught him, and he’d cried in her arms in the comedown and they’d never talked about it, I practice control with things that matter what the fuck —

“Is that why you pick the villains?” Dexter blurted out instead, like he’s nineteen and suicidal all over again.

She exhaled through her nose. The cigarette had long burned out, and she glanced down at it, clicked her tongue, and flicked the butt away. “Never let me accuse you of being soft. Villains, really.”

“You have to know.” This year especially, Dexter has a steel stomach and even he didn’t relish those hours of watching Callista’s boy fillet the little one from Twelve. They’d all been grateful when Four took care of it. “Outliers are the underdog or the dark horse, but we’re either a hero or, well.”

Dexter, more fool him, usually went for heroes, despite the hell that waited for them. District 1 had enough angry mentors who went for the nasty ones, he could afford to try. In the end they all bled out the same.

“I hate that word.” Callista clips the words with icy precision. “They are children. Children who give the audience exactly what they want, a bloodbath. Children with no artifice, children who cannot pretty up their kills with talk of loyalty or pride or wanting to see their precious little homesteads again. The people drink up the spectacle each year and demand more, bigger, flashier. These Games teach us it is our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. My children are villains because they don’t come with equal amounts of remorse to make it palatable.”

“Sure, but this one tortured a kid,” Dexter says. Sometimes Twos really are a whole other level. “Don’t you think you’d have it easier if you picked kids who … didn’t do that? As soon as he started skinning you know they would have offed him, whether the Pack did him in or not.”

Now Callista’s eyes blaze, and for a second he thinks she’ll actually hurt him, not just throw bladed words, but the only thing that escapes her is a low hiss. “So he died regardless, knowing that he made me proud. He deserves that much. His time of glory and a mentor who loves him, even only for a month. They all deserve that. I am not in this for the safe sells, obedient little quarry sons and daughters with patriotic sponsors lined up out the door. Anyone can love those. I am here for the ones nobody else will.”

In spite of himself, Dexter’s throat feels thick. Did his mentor talk to anyone like that about him? Or does that kind of unfettered, passionate protectiveness burn out the first time you hand your victor off to the pawing crowd? He feels ancient and naked at the same time. “Well,” he says, uselessly, “here’s to dead kids who deserve better.”

Callista presses the toe of her shoe against his calf and lets her eyes fall shut. They stay outside, awake but silent, until nightfall.

[small-skye-space]

Hai :0

basic info! Skye / Skyler ☆ they / she / ae ☆ minor ☆ agere blog

more info, interests, and dni under cut

info! age regresses to around 3 ☆ I'm a flip, little lean ☆ my little space in my head is a liminal space ☆ I really like purple ☆ pfp is flan's picrew

interests! homestuck (not on this blog) ☆ space ☆ liminal spaces (as stated above) ☆ kandi ☆ writing ☆ art ☆ music ☆ minecraft

dni: nsfw/kink blogs, bigots, anyone who knows me from my main, non agere/cg blogs please don't follow me, and I block freely

[skyloftian-nutcase]

[opens the front door to wherever all your Links live without knocking or anything, walks in and flops onto the nearest couch]

"Alright, I need some comfort before I go to therapy. Y'all do your worst."

As the door opens, you catch sight of Healthcare Wild in mid-rant about something at work, standing and moving his hands around, while Healthcare Twilight and his canon counterpart sit on the couch listening. Champion is coloring on the floor with little Lyra while Princess Zelda babbles excitedly to Hylia Reborn, and Sky Link is the first to notice you.

“Oh, hey guys, someone got into the west wing,” he announces loudly enough to make heads turn.

Most of the activity pauses, eyes turning to you as you flop on the couch where the pair of Twilights are sitting. "All right, I need some comfort before I go to therapy. Y'all do your worst."

Healthcare Sky pokes his head up from a pile of blankets on the opposite couch, eyes half lidded from sleep. Sniffling, he asks, "Do you want to come over here? Ledge and I are napping."

"She has to go to therapy, Sky, she can't take a nap right now," Twilight says with a small chuckle before he and his healthcare counterpart both wrap arms around your shoulders as you sit between them. "You can help us solve Wild's conundrum, if you like."

"Yeah!" Wild agrees. "See, I was talking about how this other coworker does like the absolute bare minimum and--"

"Maybe save the angry rants for later, she probably doesn't need that," Healthcare Twi pipes up. "Try the other rant you had."

As Healthcare Wild pauses, switching stories and scrunching his eyebrows together to recall where he was even going with his rant, little Lyra comes over and hands you a coloring book while Champion hovers silently behind her.

"Link likes to color with me when he can't talk about what's wrong," she says with a bright smile. "Mama makes them! She draws and we color. You want to try?"

[dissvicious]

Can you write something about the triplet saying their first word please ? (If you add an anecdote about Buggy's and Shanks first word *thank you Rayleigh* it would be marvelous)

I love Buggy's family sooo much 💕

So glad you love my little clown litter & their parents ! Here for you ! Sorry for Shanks & Buggy first word tho, didn't have anything in mind :(

Rory

Rory was the first one of the triplets to say a real word and not a non sense prattle.

His parents saw it coming... He was the most vocal / talkative of the three, and the one with the most social facilities.

So of course Buggy did everything he could in order to make him say "Daddy" or "Dad" or "Buggy" as his first word.

Everytime Rory started to babbling next to him, Buggy took him in his arms and talked to him in order to get this first word.

"Look at DADDY my sweet treasure don't you love your DAD your old dad BUGGY you love your old one BUGS don't you?"

One day Buggy was carrying Rory in his arms while shouting orders to the crew.

"Boss, does Reddie knows you took Rory at work ? - WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY NOSE ??!"

As he took a break, he started rocking Rory, sitting in a corner of the desk.

Suddenly, Rory looked at him with a smirk - which was a miracle, for god sake this kid never smile

He pointed his Dad's face and started to babble

Buggy looked at him with a very proud and impatient smile

"Yes ? Yes Rory ? Say it ! Who am I ?"

"NOSE !" Rory yell proudly pressing his index on the said appendice.

Skye

When she was a toddler, Skye loved making mimics and throwing raspberries. She was the first to laugh at Buggy's jokes, a real little clown just like her father. Both Reddie and Buggy thought her first words would be around mimicking a bad pun, or circus themed.

But as always with kids : it didn't go as they thought.

One day, Reddie & Buggy were busy giving a bath to the triplets.

It was always a very rough chore since the twins hated it.

Skye, in the other hand, seemed to love water. It was really hard to take her out of the bath once she was in.

This day in particular it was hard. Buggy was behind Reddie, trying to wipe off the twins with a warm towel.

Reddie, on the other hand, was trying to get Skye out of the bath.

But it was a particular day - to have some fun, the young parents put extra soap in the bath, quickly filling the bathroom with soap bubbles.

Skye was in the basin they used to wash the triplets, covered in foam, fidgeting, a bright smile on the face.

After an eternity, while Buggy was putting the boys in their pajamas - or at least was attempting to do so - Reddie finally managed to get Skye out of the bath.

As Reddie was wiping her daughter with a warm and soft towel, a single soap bubble, the last one, escaped from the basin and came to pop next to them.

"BUBBLE" Skye yelled before laughing in a joy outburst (honestly, it sounded more like "BUB")

Buggy and Reddie immediately stopped what they were doing to look at eachother.

"What did you say Skye ? What did you just say ? Did you just speak ?" Buggy asked, kneeling in front of his daughter with a manic grin on the face.

"BUBBLE BUBBLE BUBBLE" Skye continued to shout, laughing as hell.

Blaze

Despite being the first born of the lil clown family, Blaze was the last one to talk.

It worried Reddie a bit, since he didn't said his first word before being like, 2 years old.

Buggy however, wasn't concerned about this. Blaze compensated by being an early walker - which leaded to funny situations where Rory and Skye babbled together sitting on the ground while Blaze runned around them without a word.

It was a little before Buggy and Reddie short breakup, way before they discuss the kids safety.

Buggy anchored the Big Top on a random island for a few days. He didn't plan to make any plunder at first, but a group of drunken sailors came to tease him as he was taking some time with his crew on the docks.

Reddie and the kids were out in town for some groceries so he allowed himself to enter a good old fight like in the good old days.

After a few blade & chop chop exchanges, buggy pirates finally kicked their asses far away.

"AND NEVER COME BACK FUCKING BASTARDS" Buggy was lauging as hell, his signature grin on the face.

"Fucking bastard ! Fucking bastard !" a tiny, little, baby voice echoed behind him.

Buggy face collapsed.

He turned slowly, really slowly.

His wide opened eyes locked on Blaze who was running to him, proud of his first words. "FUCKING BASTARDS !" he yelled another time before hugging his father leg.

Buggy slowly raised his head to meet Reddie's eyes.

She was mad, mad, mad. Oh damn he was in trouble.

If her eyes were guns, he would have died at this moment.

Buggy swallowed in anguish, way more terrified now than he was in the previous fight.

[festeringfae]

Soooooooo mad that Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice introduces the concept of judicial reform when by the time the original trilogy is over, all these characters have been so thoroughly fucked by the legal system that they're not only primed for abolition, they would probably wouldn't be opposed to burning the relevant buildings to the ground. Maya Fey has been falsely accused God knows how many times, has had to stumble across her sister's corpse because the local legal community repeatedly decided it wasn't worth risking their professional reputations to stop a blatantly dangerous and incompetent individual, and now that same legal community is sending the only person within it who cared about this fumble to jail (or possibly death), even though he already died once via trying to carry out justice through that very same the system.

Phoenix only joined the legal system to rescue Miles from it, the system that frames cases as having a "winner" and "loser," thus creating the mindset that rewarded Manfred Von Karma's behavior. Miles spends Game 2 babbling that crap about finding the truth that is no way supported by the system (likely huffing copium tbh) but regardless, by the time Game 3 rolls around, even he accepts that he will have to commit fraud in order for justice to be served, aided and abetted by Franziska. And they get away with it super easily, because the system is as incompetent as it is inherently, purposefully unjust.

And then AA4 has the audacity to ask us to believe a JURIST SYSTEM will help at all?

You think a JURIST SYSTEM would acquit ADRIAN ANDREWS, an unknown, mentally-ill woman, heavily implied to be sexually active, who fans of Juan and Matt would see as disloyal to both? A woman who not only cultivated the persona of "ice bitch," but followed it up with the PR mortal sin of letting her ice bitch persona crumble into tears and begging for help? You think a jurist system would acquit HER, compared to Matt "Refreshing As A Spring Breeze" Engarde? The only reason she gets acquitted in canon is because Gumshoe-- not a cop anymore-- steals from cops, and Franziska voluntarily decides to bring in the completely illegal, stolen evidence, and even THEN, they know they can't get justice from the system. They have to ask for justice from a hitman, who grants it, because even a killer for hire has more potential for morality than the legal system. Maya's rescue and Adrian's exoneration happen not because of the competency of the police system or the court system, but rather, explicitly in spite of standard legal procedures.

So YOU'RE telling ME that when Phoenix gets DISBARRED, not only does he want to get back to law, but his solution after 7 years of scheming is just...the shitty justice system already not working in the real world? REALLY? All this shit happens, and Klavier Gavin is MORE committed to being a lawyer instead of rebranding as an ACAB solo act? REALLY?!?!??

(I cannot even get into the hellscape that is Ema Skye feeling an OBLIGATION to this system in ANY CAPACITY, LET ALONE...)

"oh we made a sequel to the trilogy--" you fucked up a perfectly good narrative accidentally demonstrating why the law does not exist to keep us safe, is what you did! Look at it! It's got undermining neighborhood conflict resolution in favor of increasing the narrative support for copaganda!

[starjynx]

Perhaps i've always told myself I offer a lot of variety in muses. I used to tell myself I didn't have a set type I like to portray, but i'm a big liar. When I made a post about being a female welcoming roleplay blog, let me just tell you i'm a big powerhouse woman advocate. I'm the whole 'females stepping on you' committee.

The type of woman to give her all protecting everyone else despite not being the strongest & despite having severe injuries? I was the first one to sign up. The women who can be emotional but don't hesitate to stand up for their own?? I HAVE A TYPE, OKAY. Anyways this a post to celebrate my strong willed muses who make me cry.

This includes Skye because unfortunately she's a video game character and doesn't have any manga panels, but she's very much a part of this. Also this includes Levy McGarden, I just couldn't find a good manga panel to properly go with this theme. But these two very much deserve their spots too.

Honorable mention: SAKURA HARUNO ( my first tumblr muse who lives in my heart forever. She started this whole type for me & we celebrate and love one badass woman. )

[dragons-daily]

@babbling-babull

Not a pokemon, though i recon it could make for a decent fakemon if redesigned correctly :D

@drowningroane

a funny coincidence of sorts. I usually start my daily dragons with a few random shapes. I ended up with something that looked a bit like an airplane and then i remembered the adaptive mimicry post and just kept going with it :P

~Skye

[mx-loar-tev]

Summary: Forced to take refuge at her mother's house with the team, Melinda May has to deal with her famous mother and with her colleagues' antics, while finding the secret of healing a broken soul.

Sneak peek:

The world may have seemed to have tilt on its axis lately but Melinda May knew she could always count on her mother to have her back. Not that the older woman would be happy about it, not so soon after asking her to drive hundreds miles to pick her daughter in the middle of nowhere. But she would do it anyway. 

That's how the whole 'team Bus', as the younger agents had dubbed the remainder of the original team, was standing in Lian May's living room. Safe hideouts were still rare after the Hydra debacle. Fortunately her mother's paranoia made her house the most secure location they could reach, since the Bus had been damaged during the last mission. The plan was to regroup, make the necessary repairs and plan their next move. 

But that probably would have to wait until the rest of the team would stop looking so wide-eyed about everything in the house, her mother included. 

And her mother seemed to be the center of everyone's attention. Not only was she interesting because she was Agent Melinda May's mother—thankfully no-one was calling her the Cavalry—but also because, apparently, Agent Lian May, CIA, was a legend even outside of her own agency. 

Yes, Melinda was the Phoenix's daughter. 

She didn't know when the name had first come up, but it had stuck. However she knew why it had stuck. Agent Lian May had been famous for disappearing during risky missions, so risky she had been supposed dead many times until she would have reappeared suddenly, mostly healthy. Sometimes she would even have faked her death, leaving both her enemies and her colleagues —and even her family— certain that she had been gone for good this time. Until she would have turned up at Langley for debriefing. 

After that, it was no wonder that people had started comparing her to a mythical creature able to be reborn from its ashes, again and again. 

Fitzsimmons were babbling stories they had heard at the Academy, a wide-eyed Skye was listening with rapt attention, her mother was muttering in Mandarin about how the stories became more and more ridiculous with time, and Coulson—well, Coulson had a twinkle in his eyes that meant trouble. He waited until there was a lull in the conversation to address Lian directly. 

Melinda didn't know how her best friend could be such an incredible, talented agent and somehow would end up putting his foot in his mouth when talking to her mother. 

"You know, I'm kind of a phoenix too now."

Lian looked him up and down critically. "You look more like a zombie."

(Keep reading on ao3)