#as well as to be able to afford shirt patterns

[zeawesomebirdie]

I should dig out my old vintage repro sewing patterns now that I've had top surgery, I bet I could make Klinger proud

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Lessons

Summary: Joel Miller, the smuggler of the Boston QZ, does not want your money when he gets you the medication you need, he asks for your body. Something you happily agree to. But one night he catches you touching yourself after you just had sex and leaves you to finally admit to him that you almost never finish with him. Something Joel can't and won't let stand.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: Boston QZ Joel, sex as a business transaction, mentions of period pains and medication, mentions of alcohol. smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex, oral sex) Joel is bad at feelings but he's trying, little bit of oblivious idiots cause why the hell not

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

It started because you needed pills.

FEDRA had again increased the prices for the medication you and many other people needed, you, to get through you period every month and you had heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that there might be another way to get it. 

It was back then that you met Joel Miller. 

You were at the speakeasy after a long day of pretending to love getting to cook meals at the FEDRA base on the other side of the QZ. 

You hated the job, but it paid well and left you being able to sometimes steal shit so you put a fake smile on while the FEDRA officers lined up to get their food at the make shift cafeteria you were working in, ignoring their lingering stares and attempts to flirt with you. 

It had been a long and exhausting day and you wanted a drink when your friend Carl told you that Joel Miller was here. You followed the way he was pointing at, being met with dark eyes already looking at you. 

He was not what you expected. 

Smugglers you had met before usually were younger and making you uncomfortable for various reasons. 

But Joel Miller was attractive in a dangerous way. 

He was sitting at the far end of the underground speakeasy, his jeans clad legs spread widely. He had a drink in his hand, that was resting on his thigh, the sleeves of the dark shirt he was wearing pushed over his elbows, showing his strong arms. 

But it was the way he was looking at you that made you realise that Joel Miller could become a problem for you. 

It was the first night he had fucked you. 

In a dark corner outside of the speakeasy, his hand wrapped over your mouth to keep you quiet as he railed you against the cold stone wall, spilling his cum over your still clothed back before you could cum, leaving you to clean up by yourself while he made his way back inside. 

You had to finish yourself off the moment you got home.

A pattern that you didn’t know would continue for the next years. 

It was easy. 

You let him fuck you and he would get you the drugs you needed. 

Yes, you could afford to pay him with ration cards. It would probably even better for you. But over the years this arrangement you had was now going, you started craving the way he was using you. 

It was the only human connection you allowed yourself to have, even though it only rarely ended with you getting to climax. Something that you realise should bother you more. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t make you feel good. He did. He was big and rough and just what you craved. 

He just wasn’t in it for you, but for him and him only. 

Joel came, every single time. 

Be it on your ass, on your tits or in your mouth. He always finished. 

It was always the same procedure. 

Every three months you’d meet up at the speakeasy. He would fuck you from behind either there or at your home, never his, and you would wake up to a three month supply of the drugs you needed on your kitchen table. 

You asked him once how he did get inside of your apartment and he said that you should learn how to lock your door.

But tonight something was different. 

You had run into him on the street after your shift. Another thing that seemed to happen more often. 

In the last couple of months Joel seemed to always be where you were. Something that had not happened in all the years before. 

It had only been three weeks since you met up and he asked if he could come over later. 

Confused you had agreed. 

If you were honest with yourself you had been looking forward to spending the rest of your day with the bottle of wine you had stolen from the FEDRA kitchen some weeks ago. 

There would be memorial services all over the QZ tonight, the curfew being lifted for the day before and for Outbreak day. 

You couldn’t believe it already had been ten years. 

You were already a glass of wine in when you heard a knock on your door. Event though you knew who it would be (you never got visitors) you checked before you opened the door for Joel. 

He nodded at you as he entered and you leaned with your back against the closed door, watching him in your space. 

You came to the realisation that you only ever spend time with him when it was dark outside. Like he was a monster that was hiding under your bed. 

He awkwardly turned around to look at you and you tilted your head to the side as you looked at him, waiting for what would happen next. 

„The supplier for your drugs got killed last week. I don’t have someone new yet, but I have these,“ he reached into this back pocket and showed you a small tube of pills. 

„These should last you for four months more. I’ll try to figure something out for after,“ he said. You nodded, taking a step towards him. He held out the tube of pills and you took it from him, reading over the faded out ink on the label that read the name of a woman that was probably long dead. 

„Thank you,“ you said quietly. 

„Take a seat, I’ll just put them away,“ you said. He nodded and you turned around, walking towards your little bathroom. You put the pills away, before you looked at yourself in the small mirror above the sink. 

You asked yourself why he chose today to come over and give you the pills. He could have waited  until the next time you were due since he had a full supply for the next time. 

Not that you were complaining. 

More than once you had tried to come up with a plan to have sex with Joel more often than you did, but for some reason you felt silly with every idea that you had. 

You could ask, but you didn’t think you could handle if he said no, so you made your peace with the arrangement you had. 

You just wanted to spend more time with him, feeling yourself drawn to him. 

Taking a deep breath you made your way back towards your kitchen area, where Joel was now sitting at your small table. You were overwhelmed with the urge to climb into his lap. 

Instead you picked up your glass of wine to take a sip. 

„You want a glass too?“ You asked him. 

„Sure,“ he nodded. You picked up a mug. 

„Only have that one glass, sorry,“ you said sheepishly as you filled the mug with some wine and brought it over to him. 

„Where did you get that from anyway?“ He asked, his fingers brushing over yours as he took the mug from you. 

You sat down on the chair next to him. 

„Stole it from the FEDRA pantry,“ you shrugged and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow  before he shook his head, his mouth twitching into a small grin. 

„Unbelievable,“ he said looking at you with warm eyes before he brought the mug up to his lips. 

„They have so much shit they don’t need. Makes me angry to see everyone suffer while they get to eat first class meals. So I sometimes take things,“ you shrugged. 

„Anything else you took?“ He asked, leaning towards you. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, before you got up. 

„I usually take small stuff. Spices, herbs and shit. But,“ you bend down, opening the cabinet under the sink and reaching to the very end, searching for the two bottles you hid there some time ago, grinning when you picked them up and turned around, missing him staring at your ass.

His eyes widened when he noticed what you held. 

„Shut the fuck up," he said in awe and you chuckled. 

„You want some Jack and Coke, Miller?“ You winked and he shook his hand with a grin. 

„If you’re offerin’“ he winked.

„Please,“ you moaned, letting your head fall down against your pillow as Joel fucked you into you mattress. You were so close. He had one of his hands on our back, pinning you against the mattress while he pumped his cock into you in deep hard thrusts. 

He had gotten you naked not long after you offered him the first glass of whiskey, asking you if you’d like to suck his cock while he emptied his glass. 

You did, keeping him on the edge for almost an hour before he pulled you up and told you to kneel on the bed. 

You were surprised to find him pulling you up against his chest moments later, his skin against yours as he played with your tits. 

Usually these fucks were quick, leaving no time to really get out of either of your clothes. And if you had the time, it was always you who got naked. 

„Always so fucking good,“ he moaned behind you and you gasped. You reached one hand between your legs to play with your clit when Joel groaned and pulled out of you. Whining as he turned you around you looked up at him as he jerked himself off before he moaned and spilled his cum all over your body. 

You were annoyed for a moment, having been so close yourself but that disappeared the moment you saw how relaxed Joel looked. He was mumbling something you couldn’t make out before his eyes opened, taking you in as you laid on your back with his cum all over your stomach and chest. 

„So pretty,“ he mumbled before he let himself lay down next to you. He stretched his arms to the side and you sighed, slipping your fingers through his cum on your chest, bringing it up to taste it. With a grin you turned your head towards the side to look at Joel only to find him asleep.

Disappointed you sat yourself up before you made your way back to your bathroom to clean yourself up. 

After taking care of your business and brushing your teeth you grabbed a glass of water and made your way back to your bed. Joel was still sleeping, laying completely naked in your bed, his flaccid cock still glistening in your juices. 

Shaking your head you grabbed your spare blanket and put it over him before you snuggled under your blanket. You switched the small lamp on your bedside table off.

Usually he would be gone by now. 

He never stayed, let alone fell asleep next to you. It made you think back to the last time you had shared a bed with someone. Ten years ago.

The last time your life had been normal. The last time you had been truly happy. The last time you had slept in the arms of the man you thought you would grow old with only to wake up to him trying to kill you. 

Closing your eyes you shook your head, trying to get rid of the memory that haunted you every single day. You turned your head to look at Joel.

He looked so much younger when he was asleep. The lines around his eyes almost gone, his lips resting in a pout. Adorable. 

You spend more time thinking about Joel Miller than you would ever admit. 

Of course you heard the stories around the QZ about him. How he took no shit from anyone. He had the reputation to be brutal and cold. 

But he never was with you. 

You hummed, letting your hands ran down your body, before you brought one hand between your legs while your other hand played with your tits. 

You moved your fingers over your clit, your pussy still wet from Joel fucking you. 

Thinking about how he felt when he fucked you you pushed two fingers inside of you, humming quietly. It wasn’t his cock, but it would do the job. Moving your fingers inside of you, the palm of your hand massaging your clit. 

„Fuck,“ you whispered, moving your hips slowly. You pulled your fingers out, focusing on your clit instead and you smiled when you felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching. Arching your back your blanket slipped down, revealing your tits to the cold air. 

Your lips parted as you took deep breaths, your orgasm so close you could almost taste it. 

You released a long and happy sigh when you finally came, biting your lip as you rode it out. Relaxing back into your bed you closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. 

„Can’t get enough, huh?“ Joel’s sleepy voice startled you and your eyes opened wide, finding him looking at you as he laid on the side.

Caught, you felt your cheeks burning before you turned your head away from him, hiding. 

„Uh. Yeah. I just… needed to cum again….“ You mumbled awkwardly, intending to get out of the bed to flee into the bathroom, before you felt his fingers wrap around one of your writs, holding you back. 

Nervously sucking your bottom lip in you turned back to him, finding him already looking at you with narrowed eyes.

„You did cum earlier, right? I felt it,“ he said.

You just looked at him, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation when you slowly shook your head. He blinked once, twice at you before his eyes widened. 

„You didn’t cum?“ He asked, confused. 

Suddenly feeling too naked for this conversation you pulled your blanket up and over your breasts as you turned on the bed towards him. 

You took a deep breath. 

„No. I did not,“ you finally said and if this situation wouldn’t be so awkward you would laugh at his horrified expression. 

„But… You… You… I felt it? I did, didn’t I….“ He was speaking to himself and you took his hand. 

„It’s not a big deal. Maybe it’s me. It’s always been hard to finish and…“ You were stopped as he squeezed your hand. 

„You did finish before with me, right?“ He asked slowly. 

You nodded. „Of course!“ You said quickly. 

He narrowed his eyes again. 

„How often. And don’t lie to me,“ he added. You looked down at your hands.

„Joel, can we please just… I don’t know. Sleep? This is… You make me feel so good. Really. And that’s….“

His fingers tilted your chin up so you had to look at him. 

„How often?“ He asked again and you sighed. 

„Once,“ you mumbled.

„Once?“ He asked with wide eyes. 

„Yeah. But Joel… I like the way you fuck me. It feels good and I don’t care if I cum or if I don’t cum. And I mean it’s a business transaction really so it doesn’t….JOEL!“ You cried out his name when he grabbed you to lay you down, throwing the blanked off your body, his body caging you in. 

„Do not say that it doesn’t matter. Just because it’s business does not mean that it doesn’t matter that you don’t cum. Why didn’t you say anything?“ He asked.

„Because this is fucking awkward,“ you whined. 

„Doesn’t matter. I don’t make you cum, you tell me. Or better yet,“ he said as he slowly slipped down your body. 

„We not gonna leave this bed until I know exactly how it feels when you cum,“ he said and you felt his beard lightly scratch over your stomach, before he settled between your legs. 

„But Joel. You don’t have to do this. It’s just sex,“ you said and you saw him close his eyes before he took a deep breath and looked at you again. 

„Hasn’t been just sex for me for a while. Why do you think I keep looking for reasons to run into you,“ he said and it was like something clicked inside your head. You had been seeing him fairly often these last weeks. But he never talked to you. He sometimes nodded at you when you saw him, but there was nothing else. 

„So please, let me learn how to make you cum so I don’t feel like a dick who has been using the woman he’s been crushing on like a fucking teenager?“ He said and you grinned. 

„You are crushing on me? That’s adorable,“ you teased and he chuckled with a shake of his head before he kissed your inner thigh. 

„Not a big talker. But I now how to use my mouth in other ways,“ he winked before he licked through your folds, making you gasp. 

„And I need you to guide me, so I know what to do the next time,“ he said.

„Next time?“ You asked. 

„Next time,“ he nodded, before he began to eat you out.

He started slowly, his tongue exploring your pussy, humming at your taste. You could not take your eyes off of him. 

His strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs parted as wide as he needed while he nibbled and sucked and licked you, driving you positively insane.

Once he had you cumming on his tongue he used his fingers. Saving every single expression and sound you made to his memory so he would never forget what made you cum. 

In the early morning hours he had you coming on his cock, squeezing him so hard he almost spilled inside of you, yet he fucked you through your orgasm until he pulled out and spilled himself all over your pussy. 

You were almost asleep, exhausted and utterly satisfied from the five orgasms you had in the last hours, when you almost missed him pulling you against his chest and kissing your shoulder, mumbling a sleepy „Love you“ against your ear.

Making you fall asleep with a smile on your face. 

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Once upon a time, a man turned himself into a demon for the sake of his husband's soul. It's been a long time since then.

-

Demons don't really need to sleep, but Roier likes to do it, anyway. It's relaxing, and it reminds him of better times back when he was human and his husband wasn't... well.

Well.

Jaiden doesn't get it, but that's because she's never known what dreams are. Because demons don't sleep and, unlike Roier, she was born a demon. Her and Bobby both were, leaving Roier as the odd one out.

...That's fine! Their loss! Because sleep? Great. Dreams? Even better.

Because, in Roier's dreams, he sees him.

-

(They're in bed, because that was Roier's favorite place to be. He's on his back with his husband laying next to him tracing patterns into his shirt with one finger. Rain patters on the ceiling, and some leaks through into the kitchen and lands in a pot placed conspicuously in the middle of the floor. Their blankets are warm, and so are their hearts.)

-

Roier has been married for almost 500 years. His husband has been dead for 499 of those years, give or take a few months.

They were never legally married; that just wasn't something you did back then. Didn't matter, though, because they wouldn't have been able to afford a wedding even if they could get married.

They were farmers- well, Roier was a farmer. His husband just liked sitting and watching Roier work shirtless in the fields. He'd sit with a pitcher of water waiting by his side should Roier need it, and he'd watch shamelessly for hours at a time, and he was horrible.

And now he's dead.

-

But, see, the first thing Roier asked when arriving in Hell was whether or not the Devil was cool with gay marriage.

"Uh," said Jaiden- and this was their first real conversation post-demoning, okay? So she obviously wasn't as cool as she is now. "Maybe? I don't know. I'd have to ask?"

"Could you?" Roier had asked, freshly deceased and still bleeding from the temples where his horns had just finished growing in. "I'm expecting my husband."

"Right," Jaiden tensely replied. "Your husband."

"Yeah," Roier said, and he tried saying his husband's name, but it just. Wouldn't... what was it again?

-

But that's fine, being a demon is a pretty sweet gig. All Roier has to do is go up to the Mortal Realm and do a few jobs for a few witches, corrupt a few souls. In return, he gets badass magical abilities and immortality.

More importantly, he gets his husband's soul. As soon as he reincarnates back in the Mortal Realm, and as soon as he dies again, he goes to Hell with all of the memories from his previous life with Roier intact, and they finally get their happily ever after.

It's what he would've wanted. Hell might sound terrible, but it's no worse than the Mortal Realm, and its public transportation is actually better, somehow. The busses all run on time, and the subway is free.

More importantly, Roier's husband was the one collecting all those books on summoning demons and making deals with demons and communing with the Devil. Roier just... completed his work for him.

It's the least he could've done, and it was his last chance at seeing him again.

-

Fuck, but what was his name?

-

(They're in the fields, because that was Roier's husband's favorite place to be. Roier is shirtless and bent over a row of seeds that are going to grow up to be corn in a few months, and his husband is on the ground under the apple tree watching him shamelessly. It's sunny out, and there's the smell of smoke in the air.)

-

It's been 500 years since Roier's husband died, and Roier has spent that time trying to remember the name of his husband's killer.

Because, once upon a time, there was a farmer, and there was a witch. Ah, but witches were illegal, you see. They communed with the Devil, and they brought chaos into a world of order.

All Roier remembers is that the person who tied his husband to that pole was in all-white. Not a priest, just someone boring.

That same person was the one who lit the straw at Roier's husband's feet on fire. And they smiled doing so even as Roier dove towards the flames as if he could put them out with his bare hands.

It didn't work. Big surprise there.

-

"So the Devil's fine with you two getting married," Jaiden said after a few days of dealing with demonic bureaucracy, "but I have some bad news for you."

Roier, for the first time since Jaiden slit his throat and converted him, felt fear.

"What is it?" he asked.

She let out a breath, slow, and said, eventually, "Your husband's soul isn't here. He isn't in Heaven, either. Or in any of the other gods' realms."

Roier blinked. "What."

It was not a question.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know! It's like he just... disappeared!"

"Is that why I can't remember his name?" Roier asked. "His soul is fucking gone?"

His hands shook. Jaiden reached out and took them.

"We'll find him," she promised, kind despite her whole 'Is A Demon' thing. "Even if it takes five hundred years."

"Yeah, well, it won't," he scoffed. "I'm going to find him. He promised me a wedding."

-

Souls don't just die. They go to someplace that Roier has only ever heard of: Purgatory.

Once in Purgatory, souls get judged by the Eye of Justice. He asks them questions about their life, and they have to answer truthfully, or he'll feed them to his children.

There are a few options for what comes next.

One: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to move on to whatever afterlife they believe in.

Two: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to reincarnate into another life.

Three: they fail the Eye of Justice's judgement and are forcibly sent to reincarnate into the life of a bug or a blade of grass or something else boring and tortuous.

Roier got to skip out on Purgatory entirely because he took the direct line to Hell. But maybe, just maybe, if he had died regularly, he could have seen his husband in Purgatory, and they could have reincarnated together.

...Ugh. Hindsight is a bitch.

-

(Roier is visiting his grandfather when the church bells ring.

"A witch!" he hears a woman scream, and his stomach fell right into his shoes.)

-

It's been 500 years, and Roier has gotten a bit of a reputation among modern witches for being one of the easier demons to work with. He'll help with their problems in exchange for information on a certain lost soul: if they hear from his husband's soul, they summon Roier. Or he'll help in exchange for some book recommendations for his son; Hell has many things, but it does not have a public library.

He isn't a particularly strong demon despite what his only angel friend, Etoiles, might say. Etoiles is just a silly little guy, don't listen to him!

-

(He never even got to say goodbye. They locked eyes as the flames rose, and Roier screamed his name one last time, and he hasn't been able to feel anything since.)

-

Jaiden was the first demon that Roier had ever met.

He was on the floor surrounded by the ashes that used to be his home. His husband's books were in charred tatters around him, but one managed to survive the fire. It was almost supernatural, but, like, yeah. Demon book, of course it was fireproof.

He was bleeding. He had offered his blood, and his soul, to the demon in exchange for his husband's life back.

She sat on the floor with him.

"I can't do that," she gently told him. "Demons can do a lot of things, but we can't perform miracles."

Roier's throat burned: smoke inhalation and grief.

"Oh," he said, small-sounding.

"But I can get his soul to Hell," she offered. "In exchange... you have to go to Hell."

His answer was immediate: "Yes."

She blinked. "I wasn't finished?"

"The answer is still 'Yes'. As long as I'm with him again, I don't care what happens to me."

"You'll have to turn your life over to Satan. You can't just go to Hell. That isn't how it works."

Roier shrugged. "That's fine."

Jaiden gawked for a moment before nodding and standing and extending her hand.

He took it.

And then he died.

-

But it's been 500 fucking years, and now Roier is being summoned by another witch for another deal. He'll probably have to help supply additional magic for some big important spell, that's basically all he's used for these days. He's more than a battery, thanks! He's a demon, he should be out, like, stealing souls and shit.

He goes, anyway, because he has to. If he doesn't, his contract is void, and he won't get to see his husband because he himself will be sent to Purgatory to be judged and, really, he does not want to deal with that. (The Eye of Judgement is fucking creepy, okay?)

There's the familiar pull at Roier's core, and the familiar blinding burst of light as he's yanked into the Mortal Realm, and the familiar smell of brimstone and evil that follows him wherever he goes outside of Hell.

The room is filled with blood red smoke as he appears- his trademark.

(The most important thing to a demon these days isn't evil, it's marketability.)

The witch in front of him, nothing more than a shadow hidden behind the smoke, coughs and wheezes and fans their hand in front of their face.

They're kneeled on the ground in front of a pentagram drawn in... what the fuck is this, strawberry jam?

Roier crouches and sticks a finger into one of the circle's markings. Careful not to break the circle, he pulls his finger out and licks the red stuff on it.

Shocked, he looks at the witch, and he asks, "Dude, what the fuck? Is this blood?"

What happened to chalk!?

The witch coughs at him indignantly. "I needed to make sure I got someone powerful."

Roier rolls his eyes and plops fully onto the ground, criss-cross applesauce. He wipes his blood-covered fingertip on his jeans. Newbies...

"Well, you got me," he says, humble to the core. (He may be a super evil demon now, but he isn't a dick.) "So... what's up? What do you need?"

The smoke in the room slowly starts dissipating, revealing the witch to be a man in what have to be the previous day's clothes. His head is still ducked, and his face is still hidden in his elbow as he coughs, but Roier could almost call him objectively handsome. Shame Roier's married, this guy would be fun to mess around with.

"I need to- fuck-"

The witch coughs one last time before finally managing to get a lungful of clean air. He raises his head, and Roier finally gets a look at his face, and-

"I need your help," the witch says, voice rough and rugged and absolutely heartbreaking. "I need to kill someone, and I need your help to do it."

"Okay," Roier agrees. He doesn't have a choice, being a summoned demon and all, but he doesn't think he could turn this witch down at all, because...

-

("Cellbit!" Roier screams.

He can see his face in his husband's glassy eyes, and then he sees nothing but the flames as they rise over Cellbit's head and drown him whole.)

-

The man with his husband's face frowns, suspicious.

"What," he asks, "just like that?"

Roier grins, fangs and all. "Just like that."

After all, he doesn't think he'll need any payment for this one.

He's finally found what he's been looking for.

[thebestofoneshots]

scents | Sirius Black x Reader

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Word Count: 4.3 k Warnings: Smut, P in V, angst, clingy!Sirius, so. much. fluff Prompt: Inspired by the sense of smell, this fic tells the story of The Marauders' last New Year's Eve together, and the love shared back at home.

scents is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.

18+ readers only (smut under the cut)

December, 31st 1980

You placed a drop of your perfume over your wrist, you knew how much Sirius liked it when you wore it, but to be fair, the smell made you relish just as much as it made him. You used your fingers to spread some over your chest and neck, placing a little behind your ears as well. Then you grabbed your lipstick from your vanity and started to softly dab on your lips with it. 

You were getting ready for the New Year’s party with the Potters, Lily and James had arranged it for everyone. Remus would be there, Peter and Mary and Marlene too. 

Baby Harry was turning 5 months, and you were more than excited to see him again, with the war, you couldn’t afford visiting as often as you’d like, especially after you’d all become objectives for openly defying Voldemort and creating the Order of the Phoenix alongside Dumbledore. You all had targets on your back, so you had to be extra careful with your every move, but even then, even with all the pressure on your shoulders, you were eagerly anticipating seeing all your friends together again. 

Sirius came out of the bathroom wearing a burgundy shirt and a patterned vest, his long hair framing his clean-shaven face, looking as beautiful as ever. “You look ravishing,” he said as he saw you sitting in front of your mirror, then walking closer to you and leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, but he stopped there, relishing on the scent of your perfume. “And you’re wearing that perfume I like,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “intoxicating.”

He leaned into you and placed a soft kiss on your neck, you playfully and gently pushed him back before he started something neither of you’d be able to stop “We’re not going to arrive on time if you do that, Puppy.” 

He pouted and finally stood up straight, “We can always be fashionably late,” he said eccentrically, you gave him a reproaching look and he finally surrendered, allowing you to finish your make-up. 

Once you were done, you stood up, straightening your dress, a satin sheet, strategically sewn on the side and back that seamlessly draped over your body, loose and elegant all at the same time. You felt two strong arms hug you from behind, feeling Sirius’ velvet coat brush over your bare back. He leaned in, enjoying how the scent of your perfume had combined with your own by now. “Can’t we just stay here?,” he said as he hugged you even tighter “I want you all for myself.” 

You turned to him and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, using your thumb to wipe them after, since some of your lipstick had transferred over. He delighted in the feeling of your thumb brushing over his lips, and you almost went for another kiss when you saw the way his lustfully went back to their place, but you restrained yourself yet again, taking your brain away from Sirius and thinking of baby Harry and how much you wanted to play with him, lathering kisses on his soft checks rather than on Sirius’ lascivious lips. 

“We should go,” you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder with a smile. He nodded and the two of you apparated outside of the Potter Household. 

Godric Hollow was buzzing with activity when you arrived, children were playing on the snow, the faint scent of snowflakes still ringing in the air. The lights of the Christmas tree flickered joyously from the city square. The scent of gingerbread, cinnamon-spiced hot chocolate, and roasted chestnuts wafted from the cozy cafes and bakeries, in the area. As you walked with Sirius you decided to stop by one of them and purchase some gingerbread cookies for Harry, who you knew absolutely loved playing with the little gingerbread people before munching on them with his very small, barely coming out teeth. 

When you both arrived at the door, Sirius knocked, being received by Lily, looking beautiful and bright while wearing a royal blue gown. You gave her a tight hug the moment you saw her, not wanting to let go for a while, Sirius hugged her next. 

“Where is my beautiful godson?” You asked after. 

“In the living room, we brought his crib out, so he can be comfortable,” Lily responded. And so you rushed inside, with Sirius and Lily trailing behind, the scent of Christmas times enveloped you. The savoury smell of freshly baked goods, such as buttery mince pies and spiced cinnamon cookies, mingled with hints of mulled cider and aromatic pine from the adorned Christmas tree in the corner flled with stunning ornaments Lily had collected through the years. The one you and Sirius had bought for her as a gift a couple of weeks ago was already hanging from one of the the tall tree’s branches.

Harry was indeed there, and you ran towards him, and carried him “Hello, love!” You told him with a smile, “How’ve you been? Did you like all your Christmas presents?” Harry, being 5 months old, obviously did not reply, but he cooed happily as you pattered kisses all over his cheeks. 

“Hey James, How are you? –Oh, hey (Y/N), I’m great, long time no see,” James mocked from the bar that connected the kitchen with the living room "I've been demoted to second place by a pint-sized tyrant," he grumbled, his ego bruised after you went to greet Harry before you greeted him “And he can’t even respond to you!” 

You laughed and approached him, while still carrying Harry in your arms, giving him a right hug “Sorry James, the cutest boy gets greeting first,” you teased. 

He gave you a playfully offended look, as he turned to complain to Lily, but he spotted Sirius and the two of them pretty much ran to each other for a hug. 

“Love of my life you’re here!” James exclaimed dramatically. 

“Of course I am,” Sirius responded “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself the opportunity to see you.” 

You turned to Lily and whispered with a mischievous grin on your face “Can you believe they chose to date us over each other?” 

“Hard to believe, I know,” she replied as the two of them walked together towards the sofa. The doorbell rang again and you walked with Lily to open it, Remus was at the door, carrying a carton box with a cake inside. He grinned when he saw the two and after putting down the cake on the foyer table, pulled both of you into a tight hug. There was another ring of the doorbell while he hugged and both Mary and Marlene appeared on the door. Mary with a bag filled with gifts for everyone, since she had been away on Christmas, and Marlene with a small stuffed, and pretty soft quaffle under her arm, yet another gift for Harry, who grabbed it the instant he saw it and started turning it around in his little hands. 

Once the greetings were over, you all walked back into the living room, and while James and Sirius greeted everyone, you went for the packet of gingerbread men you’d bought for Harry and started to play with him on the living room rug, hearing the peaceful crackling fire behind you. 

“Starshine,” you heard Sirius whine from behind “Can’t you leave little Harry alone and come pamper me instead?” You turned to him with a hand still placed on Harry’s back, he had his arms opened up for you “I’m sure Marlene’s dying to get to play with him too.” 

You raised an eyebrow, Sirius was awfully needy today, and you knew how he could get if you ignored him, even more, needy and whiny, so you turned to Marlene, she nodded and extend her hands for you to pass Harry over to her. You did, and as soon as he was out of your hands, Sirius grabbed for your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You giggled once you were comfortably sitting on him. 

Lily came from the kitchen a bit later with a tray filled with sausage rolls and some Yorkshire pudding. You attempted to stand up to help her but Sirius tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer to him “Please don’t go Love.” 

You turned to him and grabbed his head in between your arms, pulling him in for a short kiss. 

“Uhhh, Get a room!” You heard James say from the side of the couch. 

“As if you and Lily were any better,” Remus retorted. 

James's eyes flew open, brimming with surprise “Take that back Moony!” he asserted, his accusing finger aimed directly at the werewolf “We’re not like that! Are we love?” He asked turning to Lily, who was gracefully arranging the food on the center table. 

She giggled in response, “James when you’re clingy, you’re even worse than Sirius.” 

“I’m not that bad…” you heard Sirius grumble from behind, feeling his hot breath on your back.

“In fact,” continued Lily, “When we started dating, you literally wouldn’t let me walk anywhere by myself. And you always had to have some sort of contact with me, be it holding hands, hugging me, wrapping your arms around my shoulders, grabbing my–“

“-OK!” James interrupted “I get it, I get it, I can be very clingy too.” 

“But they don’t even know how good you smell,” Sirius mumbled from behind again. 

The doorbell rang one last time and James went to get it, coming back with Peter, holding a box filled with cupcakes his mom had prepared. You used your want to levitate one of the sausage rolls towards your hands and gave it a bit, moaning at the flavour and letting your head fall over Sirius’ shoulder, holding the snack towards Sirius’ mouth who ate the rest. 

“These are absolutely exquisite,” You said to Lily, who was sitting on an armchair next to Mary. 

“James made them, actually,” she responded. 

You rose your eyebrows in surprise “Didn’t know he could cook.” 

“Hey!” James said shoving you gently with his arm “I’m gonna start counting your strikes.” You shrugged and pulled your tongue out. “That’s it, you’re banned from eating any more sausage rolls.” 

“James,” Lily reproached.

“Fine then, not banned but still, Sirius tell your girl to behave.” 

Sirius rose his eyebrows towards James “You expect her to listen to me, or what? She’s not a dog!” 

“Right, we all know who is the dog in the relationship,” teased Remus, which only earned him a scornful look from Sirius. 

“Can we eat?” Asked Peter from his own armchair “I’m kind of starving, Mom didn’t let me have anything from the things she made.” 

“We should, shouldn’t we?” James said and stood up, with a swish of his wand a bunch of plates came from the kitchen and started accommodating themselves carefully on the table. “I’ll go get the Roast Beef,” he stood up and turned to his wife “Lily, Love, would you mind helping me with the mashed potatoes?” She nodded and the two of them left for the kitchen. 

“Come on,” You nudged Sirius, “Let’s get some food in our stomachs.” 

She took one more sniff of you and nodded, loosening his grip and allowing you to stand up. As you walked towards the kitchen Remus approached your boyfriend. Sirius was still staring at you “Mate, I know you love her, but please stop undressing her with your stare, she’s gonna catch a cold.” 

“But she’s so pretty Moony!” Sirius whined “I just want to be beside her all the time. I always do, but when she smells so heavenly, like today, it’s like I can’t–“ 

Remus placed a hand over his shoulder, “Enjoy the dinner mate, you’ll have her all for yourself when you get back home.” 

“Right, I really do feel sometimes I’m more dog than man.” 

Remus chuckled at that and walked with Sirius to the table. He sat on the chair beside yours, as you poured some champagne over your glasses placing his hand over your leg, to keep some kind of contact between the two.

“Friends, as we bid farewell to another year and welcome the promising embrace of a fresh one, I stand before you tonight with a heart full of gratitude and hope. This particular New Year's Eve holds an extraordinary significance for me, as I find myself in the joyous role of a husband and a father. I had the privilege of marrying the love go my life, Lily, and with her, we created a little bundle of mischief named Harry,” he pointed at them “We did that!” He said with a very excited smile. 

“Tonight, as we raise our glasses to toast the arrival of a new year, let us also take a moment to reflect on the power of love and family” he then turned to look at us “Sirius, Remus, Peter, thank you for always being there, for helping us protect our beautiful boy, and the future world he’ll be a part of, Hopefully, a better one. (Y/N), Marlene, Mary, I could not ask for better friends, no–“ he corrected “–I couldn’t have asked for a better family. 

“In a time when darkness may try to cast its shadow, we have the power to ignite the flames of hope, compassion, and unity. Life is a fleeting thing, we’ve lost so many friends the past year, let us cherish the simple joys, the laughter shared, and the bonds that deepen with each passing day. So… as we embark on this new year, hand in hand, let us embrace the future with courage, determination, and mischief. Together, we will make it a year filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities!" 

Finally, he raised his cup “To all of you, dear friends, I raise my glass and say, Cheers to a new year of joy, love, and endless possibilities!" 

You all cheered and chimed your cups together, enjoying the dinner as you chatted. It felt like being back in school, everyone was there, and everyone was happy. Laughter filled the Potter’s house like it hadn’t done in a while, and for a whisper in time, everyone was happy.

When you were done you moved back to the sofa, Sirius walked towards James’ records and sat down, trying to pick one of them to play. You crouched next to him “A day at the races,” you told him, nodding a the black record with the swan and the lions. He raised an eyebrow, you instantly knew he was asking if you were sure and nodded. 

He shrugged and fetched it from the shelf, standing up to put it on the record player. Tie your mother down started to play and you smiled with the first sound of the guitar. Sirius walked over to you and offered you his hand, he wanted to dance, you grabbed it and decided to humour him, saying your hips at the rhythm of the song. James and Lily stood up and started to dance as well, Harry has already fallen asleep and was soundly laying in his crib. 

Soon Mary stood up and pulled Marlene and Remus into the dance floor, Peter stood up shortly after and everyone was dancing on your improvised dance floor. Then the next song came, Freddie’s voice filling the room along with the background choir. You closed the gap between you and Sirius and placed your hands over his shoulders, and leaned in to whisper the lyrics to him, singing along the recorder “You’ve captured my love, stolen my heart, changed my life.” 

Now he whispered into your ears “Every time you make a move, you destroy my mind, And the way you touch, I shiver deep inside and...” 

The two of you pulled back and stared at each other with absolute adoration “You take my breath away,” you both murmured. You blushed and leaned back into his neck to hide your blush, so many years together and he still made you blush like a teenager. 

“It’s time,” said Lily, taking little Harry from the crib and walking outside with everyone behind them. You heard the first chime from the church’s bell, and you smiled. When the twelfth chime came, you all raised your wands, letting sparks fly up into the sky, they looked like fireworks. James’ had drawn his and Lily’s initials inside a heart. Remus’ exploded in thousands of tiny little sparkles, yours was a star, mirroring Sirius. 

“Starshine,” he said looking at the sky with a smile, you pulled his face towards you and finally gave him the kiss you’d been wanting to give him since you saw him come out of the closet. 

You stayed at the party for a couple more hours drinking some wine and spending some quality time with your friends. Mary told you about the trip she’d done for Christmas, Remus about his plans to become a teacher one day, and you talked and talked until everyone was happy. At around 3, Harry started to cry and Lily excused herself to go check on him, you took the moment to signal to Sirius, who was still talking with James and Remus that it was time to go home. You bid your goodbyes to everyone and walked outside the house, grabbing his hands before apparating back into your shared apartment. 

The moment you stepped inside, Sirius hugged you from behind, burrowing his head in your neck "I’ve been waiting for this moment all night," he mumbled.

"Have you? I thought you were having fun with the love of your life," you teased. 

"I wanted to have you all for myself," he responded, his head still borrowed in your neck "and even if James was the love of my life, you would be my life itself."

You blushed, turning around to face him "Sirius, my love, what’s got you so clingy?" 

"I want to spend every moment of my life with my best girl," he said placing a kiss on your cheek "I don’t want to be away from you," another kiss "All I want is for moments like this to last forever,” another kiss, he was now in your neck "is it too much to ask the universe to grant?"

You grabbed his head, turning it towards yours, so you could stare into his eyes, the prettiest eyes in the world "It is not my love, what you ask, will be granted," you reassured, and brought your lips together. 

It started soft, but Sirius’ hunger got in the way, deepening the kiss. You followed along his lead, Sirius had been dying to have you all night, and you’d been dying to take off his coat the moment he showed up with it. You urgently helped him take his jacket off, discarding it somewhere on the floor and moved to unbutton his vest. He stopped kissing you just to give you a teasing grin "And here I thought I was the only needy one."

You ignored his remark and brought his lips back to yours, soft, lustful lips, you wanted to drown in them. Sirius pulled you from the floor and you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling a familiar hardness in his pants. Now you stopped the kiss to tease him "but all we’ve done is kiss."

He grabbed your chin, forcing your face to the side to gain access to your neck “I’ve been waiting for this moment since I smelled you putting on your sexy little perfume from the bathroom," he said in between kisses. With you still wrapped around his torso he apparated the two of you back in your room, gently dropping you on the bed. You sat back and helped him unbutton his shirt, and when you did, he pushed you back down on the bed, extending your right arm and kissing your wrist "You know how crazy this perfume makes me for you," he kissed the inside of your forearm now, relishing on the smell of sweat and perfume and you. "And you decided to torture me,” more kisses, each time moving further up you arm, his long hair tickling your skin every time he moved "all." kiss "night," another kiss "long." Finally he moved from your shoulder to your neck, placing wet kisses all over you. "How would you feel I did the same to you?"

"I’m sorry," you said, breath sharp, Sirius’ kisses were something else entirely "I just wanted you to want me tonight." 

He chuckled as he placed a few kisses on your chest "Love, I want you every night."

As he kissed you again and again, he placed his hand on one of your thighs, causing the dress to ride up along with his ever-sliding hand, as he continued to kiss, He squeezed and played with your leg until you buckled your hips, a clear signal you wanted more. He grinned, he loved the effect he had on you, as much as you loved the effect you had on him. His bulge only ever growing larger. 

"Help me with this love, please," he said as he pushed the dress up your tights and all the way to your stomach, you arched your back and allowed him to handle you around until he managed to completely lift it off of you, discarding it somewhere on the floor near the bed. As the cool air hit your torso you took in a sharp breath, Sirius, on the other hand, was more than enjoying the view, as he got to see how your nipples perked, just for him. With one hand on your waist, and the other one on your breast, he went back to kissing, trailing down all the way to your free nipple and nibbling on it, he was enjoying himself. 

You buckled your hips against his again, "Please Sirius!" You pleaded.

He gave you that smirk of his again and finally moved the hand on your breast down again, using it to pull your underwear down and spread your legs lightly, sliding a finger through your slit "fuck!" he whispered as he realized how wet you were "you might actually be just as needy as me."

You wanted to laugh, but he quickly found your clit, and the first touch made you gasp. He grinned and started making circular motions with his finger. "Bloody hell, Sirius!" You said as you buckled your hips towards his hand. He used his other hand to hold your hips down. 

"Let me do the work love," he said as he continued playing with your clit. Eventually, he slid one of his fingers inside you and slowly started taking it in and out. "Good girl!" he praised "so ready for me already."

"Come on Puppy, I want you…" you managed to say in between sharp breaths. 

"I can smell you do," he responded and took his finger out of you, you quickly brought your arms towards his pants and helped him finally unbutton them. Bringing his trousers down, finally letting his cock free. It was throbbing and you went straight for it, tightening your hand around it and moving it up and down a couple of times, you moved your hand up and used your thumb to play with the nib, "fuck!” He cursed and allowed his head to fall on your shoulder "You’re gonna be the death of me."

You smiled and pulled on his hair lightly to have him look at you instead, flushed and breaking apart for him. Lending upwards to give him a kiss. Still strocking his cock. 

"Come on Puppy,” you said, "you’re more than ready."

He nodded and guided his hips towards you, your hand still on his cock to guide him to your slit. And he slowly slid in, waiting for a couple of seconds before he started moving. A tiny little moan left your lips and it only fuelled him even more, he started moving faster. But then he stopped "fuck!"

"What’s wrong Puppy?" You asked, concerned. 

"I’m just s- so close, but I- I want you to come first," he stuttered. 

You smiled "Don’t worry about me Puppy," you said, softly placing a hand on his head, pulling back some of his hair behind his ears "Do your thing."

He shook his head feverishly, and planted a small kiss on your neck "I want to see you come first." He said as he brought his hand down in between the two of you, playing with your clit as he resumed his thrusts, which had you panting and moaning, you then started bucking your hips towards his. He brought you over the edge with so much ease. You placed your hands on his shoulder to help yourself with the momentum and he relished in the way you dig your nails onto him. There was something so animal with that particular gesture that made him go absolutely deranged. 

"Puppy, I think I’m gonna-"

"Go ahead," he told you "come for me Starshine." Your head leaned back, your eyes closed tightly as your orgasm washed over you, the way your walls clenched around him had him push you even further, ridding you all the way out of your high. Even after you were back down he continued, pushing himself in and out of you. 

When you got your senses back you brought Sirius down, closer to you and started kissing his neck, right the way he liked it, and after just a few more thrusts, you felt the familiar warmth wash over you. He continued ridding you until he couldn’t and he slowly slid his cock out, Allowing himself fall on top of you, his head on your chest, his weight pushing you into the bed, making you feel giddy with joy, there was nothing like having Sirius cuddle you after making love. You started playing with his hair, and rubbing his back with your free hand, you loved being able to feel his soft skin as you slid your hand up and down "So? Was it worth the wait?"

You felt him smile against your chest "You have to put on that bloody perfume of yours more often," he said placing a soft kiss on your skin. 

A/N: this is my first ever smut piece, I probably have no clue what I’m doing, hence I’m making The Five Senses as a way to practice writing smut for my upcoming Wolfstar x Reader series. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below.

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[bevanne46]

How to Build a Fabric Stash without Breaking the Bank

Fabric can be expensive but it doesn’t have to be.  If you are not stuck on Name Brands or Specialty Fabric Store Exclusives here are some ways to build your fabric stash without costing an arm and a leg. I have made many beautiful quilts using various fabrics from various supplies. And I believe that the quality is not just in the fabric you use but also in your stitch work and seams sizes. If your seams are less than a ¼” they will not hold (personally I prefer to use a ½” seam allowance). If you are not securing your thread ends, your stitch work is going to come undone. So be sure to watch these things too.

Look for fabric at your local Thrift Store (Goodwill, Value Village, etc.)

I have found some wonderful fabrics in various sizes, notions, storage items and more at my local Thrift Stores. I have even found unfinished quilt tops that I have brought home and added a backing to then quilted. Remember that almost any size fabric remnant can be added to other remnants to make some wonderful scrappy quilts so save your own remnants after making a quilt, you may be able to use it later in another quilt.

Look for local Fabric Sales held by Quilting Guilds in Your Area.

We have 2 near me every summer.One charges $2 per pound for any fabric. The second one charges $2 per yard for any fabric. Both also sell batting, notions, books, machines, tools, and more.

Look for fabric on Facebook Marketplace, Nextdoor and other sites.

I sell extra fabric on Marketplace and Nextdoor. I have also found several ladies near me selling fabric that I have purchased. And some I have purchased with shipping to me.

Look for older 100% Cotton Sheets at your local Thrift Stores.

Back in the 1800’s and early 1900’s, Quilts were not show pieces. They were real functional blankets that were made from any and all fabrics they could get, usually used clothing. I think there is no reason why we cannot still do that instead of buying expensive fabrics. I have often used clothing, sheets, curtains, and other linens to make some wonderful, usable quilts. And there are some wonderful patterns you can use for quilts in bedsheets from the 1980’s and 1990’s. Note: I always wash anything from a Thrift Store before I use it.

Watch for Fabric Sales and Coupons for Joanns, Hobby Lobby and other Fabric & Craft Stores.

I know some quilters believe that the fabric from Joanns & Hobby Lobby is poor quality but I have not found any bad fabric from these stores.  We do not have a “Quilting” store close to me and because I’m handicapped, I will not drive an hour or more just to buy expensive fabric.  If I did that, I wouldn’t be able to afford to quilt.  I will also buy fabric from Walmart but I am more careful with my selection there as most fabric at Walmart is good but I have had one or two pieces that I felt were poorer quality.

Watch for Fabric Sales and Coupons for your Local Quilt Shop.

Quilt shops will also have occasional sales and/or coupons so if you prefer to shop at these locations take notice of when they have sales. Also ask if they ever give discounts to seniors or military.

Use New or Older Clothing.

I have made a lot of beautiful Memorial Quilts from a loved one’s clothing and T-Shirt quilts. I will use jeans, work shirts, uniforms, flannel, cotton, polyester and even some knits.  These can be a little trickier to work with because they are often stretchy fabrics but they will add a wonderful texture and visual variance to your quilts.  I recently found a pair of cotton pants with Mickey Mouse on them. I fell in love with them because they were so colorful, and I love bold colors. I found several other cotton fabrics that matched the colors in the Mickey pants and made a bold colorful quilt!

Rethink Your Backing Fabric

No one ever said your quilt backing had to be all New Cotton. You can use Fleece, Flannel or Bed Sheets as well. On many occasions I have found some wonderful fleece blankets on clearance and used these for my quilt backing.  Joanns right now has a great clearance sale on Flannel fabric. The best part about using some of these is that you can get then in a wider width so you may be able to make your backing in all one piece instead of 2 or more like when using regular cotton (unless you want your backing to be in various colors/patterns).  You can also use new or older cotton bed sheets for a quilt backing. Again, you can make your quilt backing in one solid piece with a sheet!

Check the Clearance Section for Your Favorite On-Line Stores

I have several on-lines stores that I love to shop from (e-Quilter, Missouri Star, etc.) but sometimes they can be expensive so I always check the clearance section of these stores. There are times I will find some beautiful fabrics on clearance so will purchase it then look for matching piece everywhere else so I can get the best deals. Also check for on-line sales from Joanns, Hobby Lobby and other on-lines stores that sell fabric and/or sheets.

Check Out Your Local Garage, Moving and Estate Sales

I have found some of the best deals at moving and estate sales because often the seller is willing to bargain with you. I once found an estate sale where a family was selling off all their mother’s quilting and sewing items because she had passed away and none of then sewed. There was more fabric and notions than I would have used in a year so I found lots of thread and items I purchased at a great price.

Note on Batting

I know that many quilters believe that the only batting you should use is expensive cotton batting. I disagree.  There are many forms of batting. Cotton/Poly blends, Polyester, and Fleece. I love cotton batting but cotton will break down quicker than polyester and I want my quilts to last a lifetime so for most of my quilts I actually use Polyester more often than not. I have taken the backing off many older quilts to do repair work and the cotton batting inside was all balled up and a real mess.

Now when I am doing the Quilt-as-you-Go method I use a Fleece batting. The fleece can be cut into smaller pieces, fabric added to the top and then sewn back together to make wonderful quilts. And the batting doesn’t get stuck in my machine.

Shop Around for your batting to find the best deals. Sometimes Joanns has a sale on batting but the best price I have found so far has been Walmart on-line.  I can buy a 96” x 9 yard Bolt of Poly Batting for just $30 on Walmart on-line. This bolt will make 4+ quilts depending on the size of the quilt and I will have lots of left overs for smaller projects like pillows, etc.  For me the best part is that because it’s 96” wide, I don’t have to piece together my batting before I can sandwich my quilt!

[opossumprints]

You're Weird--Im Weirder Pt. 4

part 1, part 2, part 3,

Steve has a decision to make. 

The last time he gave a gift to Eddie, he was in a bit of a panic. He had a tiny window of opportunity last time because the object of his attraction was too far away to be safe about it. The whole ordeal almost ended in disaster and with Steve without his favorite pair of shorts. He was lucky, Eddie went off somewhere and Steve got lucky. Steve would be damned to be caught off guard again. 

That still leaves him with options. Due to the slightly more flirty nature of last time’s pair, Steve’s slow increase in his teasing had jumped forward in the planned escalation. Either Steve pretends it didn't happen or… 

Steve could try to rile Eddie up. The idea makes him warm and wriggly, and he has the perfect pair to get the job done.

When Steve took Robin out to replace last week’s casualty, he walked away with a bit more than planned.  The new pair are more reminiscent of girls' panties than shorts, high cut with dainty patterns. In truth they’re one of the few pairs that make Steve blush. 

If all goes well Steve might even land himself a date. 

When Sunday rolls around Steve is prepared. Sudsy’s is near completely empty today, Eddie is there of course chatting politely to the laundromat’s owner Pam. Steve takes a deep breath before entering and waves jollily at the pair. 

So far so good. Steve manages to secure the machine next to Eddie’s (it's easy to tell with the sheer amount of band tees) and hurriedly starts the first load. That’s the easy part. The trick is a carefully timed tug below the waistband of his jeans as he bends down to dump in e washing soda. When he leans back Steve slips his thumbs into the waistband and stealthily two thin and dainty straps over his hips. 

After readjusting his shirt Steve is certain that it’s not noticeable to the average passer-by unless Steve lets them notice. 

Now all Steve has to do is wait. 

It all has to play out perfectly, has to go just right, He can't afford another fumble. To keep himself in place and hopefully prevent him from doing anything stupid, Steve sits down in front of one of the empty machines.  

In a stroke of luck Eddie wanders over without prompting. Which considering how Steve wasn't able to actually get near Eddie last time is a nice improvement. 

Eddie is wearing the butchered remains of a plain black T-shirt. It’s been cut into a tank top with the sides cut low, it's even got a few artistically cut holes that show off peeks of skin that Steve is trying really hard not to stare at. Unfortunately redirecting his gaze leads to Steve staring at where the shirt has naturally ridden up and Eddie’s low swung sweatpants don’t cover.  

“Hey” Eddie says, voice gruff. Steve's head snaps up, fuck he’s caught. He must look startled because Eddie raises an eyebrow “good morning?” The way Eddie says in a kind of prompting, almost sarcastically demanding, tone makes something stir within Steve. He can imagine them out with friends and Eddie teasing him in that tone; say hello Stevie, be a good boy. Steve manages to save himself from further embarrassment and respond with his own good morning. 

“Sorry we didn't get to talk last week” Steve says after a beat, “you're really fun to talk to and I missed it” he smiles for good measure. Eddie’s eyebrows disappear even further into his hairline (which is mostly just impressive instead of sassy) and he grins slow and easy.

“Dwaww you missed me!” Eddie drawls teasingly, his tone reminiscent of someone talking to their dog when they get home. “Don’t let your buddies hear that or you’ll never hear peace.” 

Steve fights the blush trying to bloom across his cheeks and nods.

wait …

“What buddies?” Steve wonders. He tilts his head despide the twinge in his neck from looking both up and sideways. “Do you mean robin?” Seriously, who is Eddie talking about? Perhaps its the honest look in Steve’s eyes but Eddie is taken aback for a second before he shrugs so Steve lets it go.

The taller boy nudges Steve with his foot good naturedly before unloading his machine. It’s really nice to continue the routine of chatting while doing laundry together. 

If it weren't for Eddie pausing awkwardly mid conversation every once and a while (and the fact there is a very public very dingy laundromat) Steve can imagine them goofing off together in a home they share. It’s so easy to imagine them bumping hips while folding towels and distracting each other with kisses while loading the dryer. Steve can imagine how easy it would be for Eddie to lift him on to the machine and pin him in place so eddie can–

“Dude your loads done” Eddie (the real one) buts in to Steve’s day dream 

“Yeah it is” Steve breaths huskily 

“What?”

“What?” 

Steve looks up at Eddie and blinks up at him innocently. In a way it's just part of the plan, not at all Steve being a complete idiot, not one bit.  

The impromptu staring contest ends when Steve gracefully and elegantly clambers back up on two legs like a concussed baby deer. 

Steve pops open the laundry machine door and leans in to start grabbing clothes. Just as planned, his too loose shirt slides up (forward?) and reveals the criss cross straps over Steve’s hips. 

It's the boldest thing Steve has ever worn. From the front it's just a normal (if not incredibly skin tight) pair of pajama shorts, but the sides, the sides are a whole nother story. Instead of sides there is a lattice of straps that criss-cross up his thighs and over his hips, squeezing the softness that rests there. 

And now Eddie is getting an eyeful. 

Steve rights himself after unceremoniously plopping a handful of shirts and a sock back into his laundry basket and risks a glance at Eddie. The other boy is bright red and has his shoulders by his ears. Steve could pretend Eddie looks bashful if it weren't for the deep want he sees in the others eyes. Instead he throws the rest of the plan out the window.

The plan was to let Eddie sneak a peek before slipping away for a quick change so he could drop his gift in Eddie’s clothes. But why go through all that when Steve could just lean into his space, look at him through his lashes and wet his lips. 

“Hey Eddie?” Steve coos, blinking languidly, “I really like when we hang out” he shifts even closer to Eddie to bring them nose to nose. Steve can feel Eddie's breath catch in his chest and grins sweetly. “Do you want to come to my place? Nobody’s home so I would love to have some company.” 

Apparently Eddie’s words are failing him because the boy nods rapidly and with enthusiasm instead. 

Later when they lay cuddled together in bed Steve thinks he could never be happier. Eddie lounges on his back with Steve draped over him, head resting on his chest, and with his arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso. 

“Hey Steve?” Eddie murmurs, running a hand up and down his lovers back idly tracing the constellations along his spine.

“Yeah?” he sighs dreamily in response. Steve turns his head to meet Eddie’s gaze and feels himself go gooey; he could stay like this forever. Being snuggled against the man he has loved from afar for so long feels so right. 

“I have something to tell you, and I really hope you can forgive me.” Eddie says cautiously. Oh no, Steve shifts onto his elbows and pushes himself to sit. 

Steve feels his worry pinch at his face and knit his eyebrows together. He worries his lip between his teeth for only a moment before he can bring himself to speak. 

“Eddie? what’s wrong?” Was he only an experiment for Eddie, is that what he's going to say? Is he going to be told this was a one time thing? Steve feels guilt tugging at his spine, Eddie is his own person Steve should respect it if that's the case not dread and despise the thought, should leave it be if that's what Eddie wants. 

Eddie steels himself with a steadying breath and meets Steve’s gaze. Eddie is trying to sooth him, rubbing up Steve’s arms and supporting his elbows. He’s so sweet; being open and honest and breaking his heart, but he’s still trying to help steve. Holding him and supporting him because he’s so sweet and he cares. Steve cares for him too, whatever he says Steve will honor because he cares for Eddie, loves him enough to let him go. 

“For the past couple weeks I have been stealing your underwear” 

Steve collapses in a fit of giggles. Oh he feels so bad but he does. He’s so relieved and it's so funny, he can't bring himself to feel sorry for Eddie’s confusion or for the noise he lets out when Steve’s weight plops back on top of him. 

Steve tilts his face and peppers happy kisses along Eddie's jaw. 

“Bu–but Stevie? You’re not mad?” 

Gleeful giggles bubble up from Steve’s chest once more 

“I’ve been giving them to you!” he gasps “of course i’m not mad!”

Eddie's hands are still in the air, supporting the memory of Steve's arms that just slipped from his gentle hold. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, for the past several weeks have been slipping me your underwear!” Eddie blurts incredulously. 

“Yes!” Steve giggles “I was trying to flirt!” he knows Eddie cant see his eye roll but knows deep down Eddi can sense his amused exasperation. 

Eddie flounders a bit, flapping his mouth open and closed. 

“And they call me a freak!” Eddie is giggling now too.

“baby “ Steve smirks “your weird but I’m weirder”

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

I am so deeply, incredibly, sorry this took so long. The fanfic author curse kicked in and my internet tried to kick the bucket. I've been writing this thing in literally thirty-minute intervals because of that and I thought it was fixed but no! It took another two full days to get back on track. I managed in the end and got this part finished and that's all that I really care about in the end.

I really hope you guys enjoy it!

@slv-333, @jaytriesstrangerthings, @ajeff855, @stellasapiente, @croatoan-like-its-hot

[tumbleweed-writes]

Now That I Have You: Chibs Telford X OC. Chapter Three

Molly knelt down beside her son as the boy stared at the expansive selection of toys on the shelves in front of them. They had gone to a little toy store downtown. It was right down the street from a barbershop called Lloyd's Barbers.

She had to love all the mom and pop shops in Charming. It was so nice to be somewhere where big box stores did not seem to be a thing. It made the town feel so safe; like a little haven free from the outside world. She loved all that she'd seen of the town so far. It truly felt like a special place.

She did her best to push down any sense of guilt that she might have about not being able to afford the nicest gift for Abel Teller. Money was a little tight until she got her first paycheck in a few weeks. She still had some spare fun cash though.

She did her best to sound cheerful and not focus on this guilt as she spoke up. "So what do you think buddy? There sure are a lot of really cool toys to choose from."

Mason looked at her staying silent. She gave him a soft smile reaching out a placing a gentle hand on one of his cheeks.

She was beginning to worry about him. He still had not spoken despite her efforts to encourage him to do so. She wanted her happy little boy back.

She felt as though any problems he was having were all her fault. She knew he was traumatized thanks to his father. She felt guilty thinking she could have protected him from that trauma if she'd been stronger. Letting him stay in such a toxic household for so long had harmed his psyche and she felt she had enabled it. She was debating finding him a therapist. She feared the longer she let him remain silent the worst the trauma would grow. No one had prepared her for this. She had never imagined this for her boy.

At least she had talked him into leaving his Spiderman action figure home today. Though to make up for it she had washed his favorite Spiderman T-shirt the night before and allowed him to wear it.

It was a shirt that looked like Spiderman's costume; the red and blue web pattern and the black spider on front.

He wore the shirt as often as possible which meant that she washed it just about every week.

She gave him a soft smile trying her hardest not to break down and cry from the guilt and stress that she felt. Her baby needed her to be strong. She knew him seeing her break down would just make that trauma worse. She felt like she was failing as not only a mother but as a woman overall. She was trying so hard and it felt like she was tripping along the path she'd set.

She ruffled his dark hair knowing that she needed to get it cut. That would have to wait as well.

Molly made a mental note to take Mason to Lloyd's Barber Shop as soon as she got her first paycheck. His curls were getting too shaggy and she didn't trust herself to trim them at this point.

She pressed a kiss to Mason's cheek before the boy looked back at the toys spotting a box of two plastic dinosaurs; a T-Rex and a Raptor.

He picked the box up looking at the back of the box deep in thought.

He gave his mother a smile handing the box over. Molly smiled looking down at the box knowing that the price was right in their budget. "That's a good gift baby. I bet Abel is going to love it."

She spoke again hoping that maybe she could get a response out of Mason. "Do you like hanging out with Abel? He seems to think you're pretty cool. Do you think he's cool too?"

Mason nodded his head apparently choosing to give his mother a silent answer. She sighed doing her best to give him a smile deciding that the head nod was better than nothing at all.

She took his hand in hers silently wondering if she should look into getting a balloon for Abel as well. She shook the thought from her mind deciding against the balloon.

She picked up a roll of blue wrapping paper and some tape before she led Mason to the checkout desk.

The birthday party was today and Molly honestly found herself looking forward to it. A fun day would be good for Mason. He needed this. Maybe the party would break him out of his shell? Getting him into a routine and letting him be a kid was what was best for him. She told herself it would help him adjust to the changes in their lives.

Maybe this party was what they both needed? She had to hope that Abel Teller's mother would prove to be the friend Molly needed. She wanted to find friends so badly. She just wanted to live her life to the fullest. She had missed out on so much being married to Brian. She had neglected her life to appease him. She wanted to enjoy her life.

She wanted to have all the things Brian disallowed. She knew she deserved the life Brian denied her. Her kept her from so much. He made her feel guilty for ever wanting more than what he had allowed. With Brian her day consisted of just going to work and then coming straight back home to him. She couldn't socialize with coworkers. She couldn't join them for after work drinks. She had to shut herself off from being close to anyone but Brian. The only social things she did had to be by his side. It had felt so isolating. 

She was sick of being isolated. She knew she could finally live her life for herself. She no longer had to appease Brian Parker.

She was looking forward to finally doing something without Brian Parker looming over her. This birthday party wouldn't just be good for Mason. She knew it would be just as good for her.

She needed to adjust too. Making a friend would be a great step in adjusting to her newfound freedom. 

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

Molly felt a little overwhelmed as she pulled her tiny rental silver Ford Focus up to Tara Knowles Teller's house.

The house was nice though clearly an average middle class home. Even as normal as it appeared, it felt far nicer than Molly's little boxy rental home. The lawn was maintained and the house looked cared for on the outside. It made her unkempt yard and faded siding look awful. She took a deep breath knowing that she couldn't let her insecurities get the better of her.

They were all grown ups for god's sake. Tara didn't seem like the type to worry about money or class differences.

Tara had been nothing but kind to Molly and Mason so far.

She silently prayed that Tara would be willing to befriend her. She felt so silly; being so desperate for friends. She had to pray that she would not come across as so desperate. She just missed having friends so much. Any friends she had prior to Brian were long gone and she didn't feel comfortable reaching out to them. Of course her friends had been unwilling to abandon her at first. Brian had pushed them farther and farther out of his wife's life though. Soon they'd stopped calling and she'd been alone.

She had nothing to worry about, she told herself. This was going to be a good day. She knew she just had to play it cool and pretend she wasn't a friendless traumatized woman...she cringed at the thought hating it. She hated what Brian had turned her into. She was a neurotic mess always questioning every move she made. She knew she was so different from who she had been prior to Brian. She prayed she would be able to rediscover herself or become someone new at least.

She raised an eyebrow at the few motorcycles pulled out in front of the house. She couldn't remember if she'd ever seen so many Harleys in her life. She furrowed her brow at the sight. She didn't take Tara to be the biker type. The woman had seemed so prim when they met.

Molly got out of her rental car going to the backseat before she helped Mason unfasten his seatbelt. He still had trouble with buckles and it was a struggle that she'd been working with him to conquer. She could admit her son was a tad bit clumsy. It was a curse he'd inherited from her. She'd been just as uncoordinated as her son when she'd been his age...she wished she could claim she'd outgrown it, but that would be a lie.

She allowed Mason to carry the gift wrapped up in blue wrapping paper with a orange bow on top. He seemed to be proud of the gift and seeing that he seemed so proud made Molly feel a sense of joy.

She put on her best smile as she took Mason's hand leading him up to the front door. She took deep breaths hoping her anxiety was not written all over her face.

She reached out ringing the doorbell a little surprised as a woman who she didn't recognize answered.

Gemma raised an eyebrow as she took in the sight of a pretty blonde and a kid. She frowned not recognizing these party guests. She was not fond of outsiders.

She didn't have time to say a word as Tara walked over and spoke taking the gift from Mason. "Molly, Mason. I'm so glad you could make it."

Gemma stepped aside as Tara let the blonde and the kid in. Tara spoke hoping that Gemma would be civil for the day. "This is my mother in law Gemma. Gemma this is a coworker of mine and her son Mason."

Molly reached out suddenly feeling as though she was under a microscope as Gemma took her hand in hers a knowing look crossing her features as she put two dots together. She knew the blonde seemed familiar from what little she'd spotted of her that day at TM Auto. This was the same pretty single mom Chibs seemed to be so taken with? This was the girl he was doing all those free auto repairs for? She was overtaken with a sense of distrust. Molly was getting free auto repairs but what was Chibs getting in return? "So, you're Molly."

Molly didn't have time to ask what that was supposed to mean as Abel walked up to her and embraced her wrapping his arms around her leg clearly not shy about affection. "Miss Molly, you and Mason came."

She looked down at the little blonde boy surprised by this act of affection. She spoke giving him a friendly smile amused by the affection even if it was a shock. "Of course we did, buddy. Mason and I wouldn't have missed it for the world. What is it your twenty-fifth birthday?"

Abel giggled as he responded. "Nope my sixth."

And with that Abel released Molly and took Mason's hand in his. Molly watched as the boys ran off towards the backyard leaving her alone with the adults one of whom made her feel like she was being judged for a sin she was unaware of.

Molly felt her throat tighten up a little anxious about being left alone with Gemma even if Tara was there. She had a feeling she'd done something so wrong to offend the woman. It was like her presence ruined the woman's day. Molly struggled to understand why she sensed so much hostility. She had to wonder if it was just in her head. Maybe Brian and ruined her so much that she was recognizing hostility where there was none? Judging by the way Gemma was gazing at her though a lingering look of disapproval made Molly think that she was not so paranoid.

Tara swooped in though saving the day as she took Molly's hand in hers. "Thank goodness you're here. I could really use a hand with all this food."

Molly did her best to give Gemma a polite smile, hoping to kill her with kindness, as she was led away by Tara.

She was beginning to think that Gemma was going to be a roadblock in her attempt to make a friend.

——————————————-

Chibs pulled up to Jax and Tara Teller's house before he unstrapped the brightly wrapped gift from the back of his bike.

He was a little hungover to be honest. He had spent another night locked up in his room at the clubhouse alone with a bottle of whiskey. It was how he spent most nights to be honest. It was a cycle he couldn't seem to break. The whiskey made him forget how miserable he felt. He knew he was isolating himself but he just couldn't sink back into the life he'd known for over a decade now. He felt like he was stuck in a rut and he didn't know how to escape it.

He knew that Abel would have his head on a stick if he missed his birthday party. The kid was defiantly the little prince of Samcro.

He walked into the house, without knocking, not surprised that Jax gave him a friendly hug upon entering.

He handed over the gift hoping that Abel didn't already have this particular Lego set.

Honestly Chibs had thought that it just looked cool; it was pirate ship themed. He'd figured a little mutiny would be perfect for a Teller boy.

The last thing Chibs had expected to see was a familiar little boy sitting outside by Abel's side as Chibs glanced through the screen door into the backyard.

Mason Garrett was plopped down on the ground playing in the dirt beside Abel with army men.

The kid looked happy, a smile on his face. Though he still didn't seem to be talking. He only nodded his head and pointed as Abel talked.

Chibs eyes grew a little wide as a familiar woman walked out of the kitchen helping Tara carry a cooler full of kid appropriate drinks. Bobby had already snuck a few beers for the adults into the white cooler that was already outside. The red plastic cooler was full of juice boxes and waters for the kids.

Molly Garrett looked far more attractive when she wasn't in her hospital issue blue scrubs. The causal clothing made her figure all the more apparent.

She was wearing a dark purple tank top with floral embroideries along the bottom that made Chibs think of the nineteen sixties. Along with a pair of white converse sneakrs, and a pair of dark wash jeans that seemed to make the curve of her hips far more obvious.

Her makeup was a little darker than it had been the day at the garage in her lips at least; they were a red color that made Chibs think of strawberries. Her hair had been curled and left down showing that it was pretty long an observation he'd not noticed as she'd had it pulled up that day at TM Auto.

He suddenly felt as though he should be dressed a bit nicer. He had forgone his brown leather jacket and chosen to wear an old pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with his kutte and boots.

Molly widened her eyes as she spotted a familiar man. She hadn't expected to see the mechanic at Abel Teller's birthday party.

Jax and Bobby took over carrying the red cooler as it was proving to be a bit of a struggle for the women given the bulk and the weight.

Molly felt her stomach twist into knots as she made her way over to Chibs. She felt her stomach knot up fearing he might not even remember her and she'd make a fool of herself. She ignored the thought as she spoke hoping that her cheeks weren't flushing though they probably were. "Filip."

Bobby raised an eyebrow as Jax and he made their way out the backdoor, not missing the use of Chibs' real name.

Thankfully Bobby didn't have time to comment as Jax practically drug him out back.

"Miss Garrett." Chibs blurted out feeling daft for being so formal.

"How do you know Abel?" Molly asked hoping that she didn't sound too nosy, but the curiosity was killing her.

Chibs cleared as he felt his eyes scanning her body not helping but to love what he saw. Why did her top have to be so low cut?

He looked into her eyes praying that she didn't catch him gawking at her cleavage for the barest second. "I work with his da...and we're in a... motorcycle club together as well...known him fer years."

He knew better than to go into too much detail about the motorcycle club to an outsider. Molly would probably freak out if she knew just what Samcro was.

He spoke after an awkward moment of silence. "How do you know tha birthday boy?"

Molly gave him a smile that she was sure might be a little too flirty but she couldn't stop herself. The way he was looking at her made her feel more attractive than she'd felt in a long while. It was pleasant reassurance that she was in fact a woman who was appealing to a man no matter how much Brian had tried to tell her that no man would ever find her desirable. "I work with his mother... it's a small world."

"Aye...sure is." Chibs stated feeling so idiotic for not having something more eloquent to say.

It had seemed that his brain had shut down killing any usual bravado that he might have when it came to talking to women.

It was like he was a prepubescent boy all over again. His voice may as well start cracking, he thought bitterly.

The moment was interrupted as Mason ran up to his mother grasping her leg. She looked down at him as she spoke. "Mason you remember Filip, right? The nice man fixing our car."

Chibs stared down at the boy speaking up hoping that the kid might talk to him this time. "Hey little lad, its nice ta see ya again."

Mason simply smiled at Chibs giving him a tiny wave before he took his mother's hand in his and pointed over to a swing set in the backyard.

Molly smiled a little surprised that her son had been brazen enough to wave at Chibs. It was a nice change given that he'd hidden behind her the last time they'd seen Chibs back at the garage.

She spoke up trying to talk her way out of her son's constant silence hoping that it wasn't obvious she was lying. She didn't know how to explain the truth though without giving the full sob story of what they'd been through. "Still shy. It takes him a little bit to warm up to people. I think the move has made him even more shy."

Chibs nodded his head giving the boy a smile. "Aye, thas alright. He's jus the strong silent type."

Molly laughed at the comment finding the small joke eased her nerves as well as her guilt over not being exactly open about the reason behind her son's silence. She was just thankful that Chibs didn't think she'd raised some sort of silent bratty kid.

Chibs smiled at the sound of her laugh not helping but to feel that he could get used to hearing it.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something more to Molly and maybe find another chance to make her laugh. He missed his chance as her son pulled her away leading her to the swing set she barely having a chance to work out a see you later to Chibs.

Chibs closed his eyes taking a deep breath. It was like fate was screwing with him. Fate seemed to have placed the woman he told himself he'd be wise to forget right in front of his face. It was as though life was dangling what he could not have right in his face.

He let out a huff as he opened his eyes spotted Tig walk through the front door...great.

————————

Chibs sat out back on a picnic table that sat near the side of the house beside the grill that Bobby was insisting on manning as hotdogs and burgers sizzled.

Chibs found that he was unable to take his eyes off of a certain blonde.

Molly was smiling talking to Tara as a few kids obviously on a sugar high ran around the backyard making full use of big area.

Chibs took a drag off of his cigarette trying to ignore the need to go to Molly and say something more; perhaps flirt a little. He feared making a fool out of himself though. He knew talking with her would just make him want her all the more. He would be an idiot to want what he could not have. It would just make him miserable.

Tig had already spoken to the pretty blonde making Chibs' blood boil a little, though Molly had seemed to tolerate Tig's attentions more than anything.

At least Tig was being less of a pervert than usual, which wasn't easy for the man. Tig knew enough to know that Gemma would have his head if he went too far into freak town at Abel's birthday party.

Chibs rolled his eyes as he spotted Gemma in the corner of the yard talking to Jax but keeping a close eye on Molly.

Wonderful just wonderful, he thought sarcastically. Gemma would more than likely terrify Molly the first chance she had.

Chibs wasn't sure why he felt so protective over Molly. He didn't really know her and she certainly wasn't his girlfriend.

So why should he care when Tig got a little bit too friendly with her? Why should he care if Gemma interrogated her?

He shook his head hating to admit it; he had it bad. He had developed a big fat crush on Miss. Molly Garrett. He wanted someone who would never want him.

Chibs let out a sigh knowing that there was nothing he could do about this. She didn't need a guy like him. She and her son deserved someone safe. He saw ol ladies come and go over the years. Ol ladies came and went but SAMCRO was forever. Molly didn't seem the type that would be comfortable with what his life entailed. He had to think that being an ol lady would destroy someone as lovely as her. Pursuing her would be selfish, he told himself. She seemed so sweet and so gentle. He told himself his life would smother that sweetness. His life would destroy gentleness. There was no place for gentle in his world.

She deserved someone normal who could give her a boring safe little life. Still though the ideas of someone else having her made him sick. He hated the idea of someone else making her laugh or looking into those eyes of hers. The idea of someone else getting to find out just how soft her lips were made him feel bile rise in the back of his throat. The concept of someone else getting to see and feel her body made his blood boil. The idea of some other guy getting her smiles made him feel nauseous.

He rolled his eyes knowing that he couldn't have it both ways. He either had to make a move or he had to walk away.

Chibs was shocked as Mason sat down beside him looking up at him curiosity clear behind his eyes though he remained silent.

Chibs took another drag off of his cigarette, nearing the end of the cancer stick, as he spoke up already knowing that the kid probably wouldn't talk to him. "Don't ever smoke little lad. It's a bad habit. Ya never start it up, aye."

Mason nodded his head not saying a word as he continued to look at Chibs.

Chibs put out his cigarette in an ashtray at the center of the table speaking up again as he nodded down to the boy's t-shirt. "Ya like Spiderman?"

Mason nodded again still not saying anything. Chibs gave him a half-smile as he spoke feeling a little awkward as what to say to a kid who wouldn't talk to him. Molly hadn't been exaggerating, the kid really was shy. "He's a good superhero huh?"

Mason nodded again as he did the last thing Chibs had expected. The boy put his left foot in Chibs' lap pointing down to the red converse on his foot, it was untied.

Chibs chuckled a bit as he reached down tying the boy's shoe. "Ah usin me fer my shoe tyin abilities."

Mason took Chibs by surprise laughing though the giggle was brief it ending as soon as it started. Chibs smirked as he spoke. "Ah so he does speak."

Mason said nothing in response as he hopped off the seat his shoe now tied. He gave Chibs one more smile before he ran off across the yard to join Abel in the bouncy castle that had been set up.

Chibs smiled as he watched the boy jump in the castle laughing along with the other children.

He looked back to Molly to see her smiling as well as she watched her boy. She looked relieved to see her son having a good time.

Chibs couldn't help but to enjoy the sight of Molly and Mason both looking so happy. Talking to kid had felt easy despite it being a one sided conversation. The small interactions he'd had with Molly had felt so wonderful. 

A tiny part of him had to wonder if maybe he could find a way in Mason and Molly's lives after all. He had to wonder if he should just embrace what fate seemed to be shoving at him.

Perhaps he could make this work? Maybe he could accept that there was a chance she might want him and the life that came with him? Maybe he could bring her into his life and find a way to make sure that she would not lose that sweetness? 

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

Molly was shocked when Abel asked for Mason to spend the night. She was even more shocked when Mason had seemed all for the idea.

She was a little afraid to leave the boy alone, though Tara and Jax both seemed like nice people even if Jax's mother was intense.

Molly was feeling overprotective considering what Mason and she had been through. The idea of being separated from her son for a night made her feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety. A voice told her she could not protect him if he was out of her sight.

Still though she knew that a night spent at a friend's house was good for Mason. He needed to have a chance to be a kid without his paranoid mother hovering over him. She told herself she should be relieved he wanted to spend a night away from her. It was a good experience for him. He should be having sleepovers and having fun with a kid his age. She had to trust that he'd be safe.

The boys had just eaten cake and opened gifts and were now playing with a Lego set in the living room.

Tara and Molly had found themselves cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper with a surprising extra set of hands provided by Chibs. Molly did her best to pretend that she didn't feel just the slightest bit like a schoolgirl with a crush around the man hoping it wasn't obvious her cheeks had flushed the few times his hand had brushed against hers as he held out a garbage bag for her to throw rubbish in.

Molly frowned as she stared out the window at her rental car realizing that she was blocked in. She needed to pack a bag for Mason; he needed his inhaler.

Unfortunately her son had developed asthma at a young age. Brian had actually had the gall to blame her for this abnormality in their son. After all Molly had a history of asthma in her family.

Molly looked at Tara a frown on her face feeling embarrassed as she spoke. "I'm blocked in. Mason needs a bag for the night...he needs his inhaler."

Tara saw her opportunity as she spoke. "Chibs can take you by your place to pack a bag, his bike isn't blocked."

Chibs almost spit the soda he had been drinking out when he heard this comment. He'd been lingering long after the mess of wrapping paper had been cleaned up trying to pretend that he was just sticking by to help lend a hand to clean up any more messes ignoring the looks of confusion on his brothers faces at the fact that he was assisting the women indoors. He was just relieved Gemma had taken to cleaning up outside not seeing his lingering stares at Molly.

He knew it might be obvious to most of the people in the house that he wanted to be close to Molly. He felt the need to make sure that Tig stayed far away from the blonde. He knew the man didn't have any pure intentions with Molly and he wanted to be around in case Tig made a misstep and offended her. He was surprised by how protective he felt over her. He just couldn't stand the thought of Tig saying something crude to her and upsetting her. He didn't want her to think the men he shared a kutte with were all perverts who would treat her with disrespect.

He couldn't help but to think that Tara had been planning this lift via Chibs to Molly's place, as though she could somehow predict that Molly would need a ride to her rental house.

He felt his stomach knot as Molly looked to him. She spoke her voice not hiding her nervous energy a voice in the back of her head insisting she was burdening him even if Tara had offered the favor. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all, Love, anything fer the little lad." He blurted out not even having to think about it. He felt giddy at the thought of having her on the back of his bike.

Molly grabbed her tie-dyed cloth purse strapping the thing along her body like a sash, she was thankful for the long strap. Thank god for the hobo bag trend.

Chibs spoke up as they headed out to his bike the address to Molly's apartment that had been written on a yellow post it note in his right hand. "Have ya ever rode a bike, Love?"

"A few times...my granddad had a Harley when I was a kid. He used to take my sister and me on rides...my brother was always afraid of it" Molly explained smiling at the fond memory from her childhood.

Chibs nodded his head thankful that he'd brought his bike with a backseat, his other bike was only a one seater.

He handed her the black helmet he had borrowed from Tara as he spoke hoping that he could smooth out any worries she might have. "It's easy. Jus lean with me when we turn and hang on."

Molly nodded her head feeling a little nervous as she put on the helmet and climbed on the bike behind him.

She placed her arms around his waist not helping but to admire the feel of his firm stomach below her hands.

Chibs closed his eyes for a moment her closeness to him making him feel a little overwhelmed; the feel of her arms around his waist and the scent of her rose scented perfume made his heart race.

He had to enjoy the feel of her behind him like this, so close.

She tightened her grip on his waist as the bike started up and pulled out of the driveway on to the street.

Chibs smiled as he heard her let out a small giggle behind him clearly enjoying this. She wasn't the only one.

He could get accustomed to this. He couldn't help but to hope that she would give him the chance to get accustomed to it.

[nitewrighter]

Scoops! (Part 1)

Okay, so this fic is of course mainly taking place in the My Adventures With Superman continuity of Superman, but I also wanted to incorporate some aspects of comics Lois in there as well. It also takes a lot of inspiration from Gene Luen Yang's Batman/Superman: The Archive of Worlds, and I wanted to adapt elements of that comic to My Adventures with Superman. So it's a mish-mash! This is my first time writing for Superman in anything other than a shitpost, so I hope you enjoy!

Read it on AO3 here!

-----

“Eyes up, Smallville,” Lois was bobbing a little where she stood. She was in yoga tights and a loose cutoff tee that was apparently a souvenir from a monster truck rally called ‘MeTRUCKolis.’ Her wrapped fists were squared up in front of her. Clark loomed before her, his own legs slightly bent, wearing a beat-up white t-shirt and sweats.

Clark adjusted his glasses and took a steadying breath. “Okay,” he said, bringing his arms up.

“Ready?” she asked. He liked that little flash of fierceness in her eyes.

“Mm-hm.”

Bap. Bap. Bap. She had been talking him through proper blocking, and, from what they could observe, Kryptonian nerve endings seemed to follow a lot of the same logic as human ones, and she was always quick to correct his form or stance. Obviously she didn’t have the same hand-to-hand prowess as that skull-helmeted orange and black guy with the swords, but it was still a good opportunity to actually observe the patterns of a proper fighting style rather than be blindsided by a flurry of blows.

Bap.

Watching Lois, blocking her strikes, he could see there was clear logic to her movements: an awareness of space and a conservation of energy that seemed so far beyond him simply because he still had barely a grasp on what he was able to do to begin with. Rolling with the force of the punches was definitely instinctive for him at this point, but he was still trying to parse out how exactly his own invulnerability worked. Frankly, he didn’t really like the current approach of, “Oh, I guess that doesn’t kill me,” but it wasn’t like he was actively trying to lower whatever unconscious mental blocks he had on what probably could be hurting him a lot more if he let it. He could feel the roughness of Lois’s fist wrappings, the warmth of her skin through them, could feel his own flesh yielding, if only slightly, at the impact. He knew she actually packed a significant punch compared to the average person, but she was holding back in her own way. There was the instructive element to it, but caution, as well. After all, how hard would you want to punch someone who not only was your boyfriend, but whom you had also seen make a massive impact crater on concrete?

Bap. Bap.

Lois was a ruddy, flushed mess, but in Clark-vision she was a dewy and glowing warrior goddess, hair sleeked back with her own sweat. They had been at this for the better part of an hour—their training session interrupted only twice by Clark having to rescue several construction workers downtown when an I-Beam���s crane cables snapped loose, and later to fly a little girl and her grandfather to a hospital when the grandfather had a stroke. He had been trying to get better about letting certain things resolve themselves—Metropolis had firefighters, crisis hotlines, and paramedics, after all—but he had also gotten practiced enough with his super-hearing that he had a much stronger grasp on where the location of certain cries for help were coming from—say, if that stroke victim was also in an affordable housing unit.

Bap. Lois’s fist made contact with his left pec.

“Clark, shoulders,” she said for what was definitely more than the tenth time, “And you’re not even trying to evade.”

Clark wasn’t sure how practical evasion was when he was, in fact, significantly wider than her. Her fists were pretty centered on him as a result. He was great at evading while in flight, maybe because momentum was such a strong factor that impact could easily wrest from his control and he didn’t want to make himself into a missile by getting blasted out of the air, but here, in the laundry room basement of Lois’s apartment building, on a mat graciously lent to them by Steve Lombard, in close quarters with a much smaller (but much fiercer) opponent, there wasn’t a lot of space to evade, nor really a strong physical need to. Lois was going in for a hard left hook now.

“I don’t know if this is really working,” said Clark, finally dipping to one side with superhuman speed, sending Lois stumbling forward, but she righted her own momentum and easily pivoted into a back kick.

Careful, Clark instinctively caught her foot before it met his jaw, letting his own hand briefly follow the arc of the kick so she wouldn’t hurt herself with the sudden stop. He stood there, awkwardly holding her by the brightly-colored trainer.

“Okay, now counter,” said Lois.

“Counter?”

“You have my foot. I’m off-balance and vulnerable. Flip me, or something.”

“Lois, I’m not going to flip you.”

“We have a mat!”

“Look,” Clark let her foot go, “I know you mean well with this, but I never really thought of my powers in terms of fighting. I don’t like thinking of my powers in terms of fighting.”

“Well, don’t think about it as fighting, then,” Lois regained her stance and put her hands on her hips, “Think of it as… stopping a fight before it becomes a fight. We both saw that footage, the more you get hit…”

“The more I get hit,” Clark conceded.

“Right, you get discombobulated, and then overwhelmed. And it’s clear even if you can take those hits, that actually taking those hits uses up energy for you. There’s just a lot of surface area like this,” said Lois, splaying her fingers across Clark’s chest.

Clark gulped at the physical contact and Lois caught herself, a drop of sweat hanging on one lick of hair at her temple, and cleared her throat, putting her hands on Clark’s shoulders and guiding them so that he was standing at more of an angle. “You have to give your opponent less of a space to hit. You just keep coming at people fully sheeted forward, it’s no wonder you’re getting shot or laser-blasted in the back all the time.”

“I’d just rather the laser blasts hit me than…”

“Than the other guys shooting at you?”

Clark’s brow went between a furrow and a crinkle and he glanced off. “I mean, they’re less bulletproof.”

“Clark…” Lois started and then a sigh escaped her. It was one of her ‘I worry about you’ sighs but this one was clearly combined with the actual physical exhaustion of punching him for at least 45 minutes. “I’m gonna get some water.”

“Right…” Clark itched at the back of his neck. “How do you know Krav Maga, anyway?”

Lois gave him a kind of sad sidelong glance before taking a long gulp from her steel water bottle and Clark put 2 and 2 together.

“Oh….” he said quietly.

“One of the closest things we got to quality time, me and my dad,” she shrugged, wiping her mouth. A pause passed between the two of them, a silent, mutual acknowledgement that they didn’t have to re-open that can of worms right now. “Honestly I’m out of practice with Krav Maga specifically, though,” Lois added, “These days I just kick box down at Irons Gym twice a week.”

“I’d like to see that,” the words came out of Clark unthinkingly.

A catlike little smile spread on Lois’s lips.

“I uh—I could probably learn a lot more about proper stance and counters and, um, surface area by watching you in action,” Clark added. Were his glasses steaming up?

“Invitation’s open, Smallville,” she said, setting her water bottle down on the washing machine.  She rolled her shoulders. “Okay,” she said, clapping her wrapped palms together, “Obviously this wasn’t as productive as I would have liked, but we can finish off by showing you my ultimate move.”

“Ultimate move?” Clark blinked a little helplessly.

“Did you know you like, almost never use your legs in a fight?” Lois was hopping in place a little, bouncing her weight between her feet, loosening herself up.

“Again, I don’t really think of my powers in terms of—”

“Think fast!” Lois rushed him, launched herself into the air, twisted in mid-air, and caught him around the neck in what would have been a brilliant scissor-leg takedown if… it actually took him down. Instead, he just kind of ended up rolling back to a near-limbo position to account for her momentum, then brought himself back upright. To her credit, she did keep furiously twisting and squeezing and trying to use her own center of gravity against him the entire time he was doing this, and Clark really wasn’t sure if it was the flight or the super-strength doing most of the work in making her ultimate move… not work… but once he was standing up straight again, she slackened with a frustrated groan, leaving her basically dangling off of him by one leg yoked over his neck.

“…I see what you were going for, there,” said Clark after a beat.

“It would have worked,” Lois’s voice was half a grunt from her semi-upside-down angle, “If you weren’t… y’know.”

Clark thought, Lois, you can choke me with your legs any day of the week, before blurting out, “No, I’m sure! It’s a great move!” and then quickly scooping an arm under her, “Uh—here, let me—”

Getting Lois back to an upright standing position from her current entanglement was a bit like wrestling a large fish out of water, but he managed to set her down with her looking only somewhat sulky.

“It really was a great move,” Clark tried to reassure her.

“It’s not that,” said Lois, readjusting her sports bra, (which made Clark quickly glance off, face burning), “I just… wish we had a safe environment for you to actually work on this stuff! Actually get a grasp on what you can do and how… there’s still so much we don’t understand.”

“I know,” said Clark, not wanting to say If I wasn’t what I was, we wouldn’t be spending one of our few days off like this. Even when I’m not Superman-ing everywhere, this is still eating up both our lives.

There was a familiar fanfare message chime and Clark, desperate to break that chain of thought, quickly stepped over to his duffel bag and grabbed his phone, reading the text on the screen. “Oh hey, Jimmy’s finally done with his thing.”

“His ‘thing?’”

“He wouldn’t tell me what it was,” said Clark, putting the phone back in the bag, “But he wants us both to come over and check it out.”

“Well, obviously we can’t go over there all sweaty, Smallville,” said Lois, grinning, “Looks like you’ll have to use my—-”

Clark zipped upstairs in a blur and after about 15 seconds zipped right back down, super-scrubbed clean, in a completely different outfit to account for the cold weather, and hair still slightly damp.

“…Shower,” Lois finished flatly.

“There’s still plenty of hot water left,” said Clark.

“Cool, thanks,” said Lois, not even remotely trying to hide her disappointment.

——

A shower, a change of clothes for Lois, and short tram ride later, they were at Jimmy and Clark’s apartment building.

“So, when’s Jimmy going to use his Flamebird bucks to get a penthouse?” asked Lois, as they both got in the elevator.

“You know he hasn’t really talked about the money that much,” Clark shrugged, “I dunno if he’s still trying to figure out what to do with it, or if he’s just letting the fact settle in, or what. Then five days ago he starts working on this thing and he’s just been kind of hyper-focused and really secretive about it since then.”

“Secretive, huh?” Lois brought a hand to her chin thoughtfully as the elevator dinged open, “Think he’s being mind-controlled or something?”

“Oh no, definitely not,” said Clark as they walked down the hall, “He gets exactly like this when he’s editing one of his longer video essays. I remember this one time back in college when—” Clark suddenly paused and tilted his head, squinting slightly, as he often did when his super-hearing was picking up something unusual.

“Clark?” Lois looked up at him.

“Some kind of… fizzing sound…at the docks…” Clark murmured. He stood stock-still in that hallway for about thirty seconds before straightening his head again and shrugging, continuing down the hall. “Well, it’s gone now.”

“Look at you, not flying off in a panic every time you don’t know exactly what something is,” said Lois, proudly.

“Baby steps,” said Clark, smiling.

The door to Jimmy and Clark’s apartment swung open before either of them could knock.

“Hey Ji—” Lois started.

“You’re here,” said Jimmy, breathlessly, “Come in, come on! Come in!”

Both Clark and Lois were hustled into the apartment, which was noticeably messier than usual with multiple boxes and foam packaging and those weird plastic air bags which never pop as satisfactorily as bubble wrap.

“Online shopping…?” asked Lois and Clark shrugged.

“Nothing so simple!” said Jimmy, clearly over-caffeinated and already across the apartment, forcing Lois and Clark to follow him, “I’ve finally been able to realize my vision!”

There was a mania in Jimmy’s voice that made Clark and Lois exchange glances and wonder if the whole experience with Monsieur Mallah and the Brain had rubbed off on him more than anticipated.

“What vision?” asked Clark, but they had already reached his and Jimmy’s room and Jimmy was bent over his desk.

“Lady and Gentleman,” he said deeply and dramatically, slowly pivoting around, “I give you, the one, the only,” he was holding something a little bigger than a shot put ball, covered with a dish towel, “the state-of-the-art, the one-of-a-kind, next generation in Flamebird content creation,” he whipped the dish towel away to reveal a silvery dome embraced by an incomplete disk, “Scoops!”

Clark and Lois stared at the object in Jimmy’s hand blankly. It seemingly stared back with its indifferent camera lens at the front, flanked by two triangular metal plates.

“S-Scoops…” Jimmy said, as if they should both know what he was talking about.

Clark and Lois looked up from the object to Jimmy, still clueless.

“It’s a news drone,” said Jimmy.

“Ohhhh,” Clark and Lois said at the same time.

“So it’s like… a new camera?” said Lois.

“Camera? Camera?!” Jimmy held Scoops close, aghast, “Scoops is voice-commanded with a learning AI, has a whopping six terabytes of still image, text-by-dictation, or video memory, is VPN secured and encrypted with its own personal cloud, equipped with the latest in hover-mag suspension systems, is synced with an app on my phone, and tops out at 45 miles per hour.”

“Do we also have to call it ‘Scoops’—” Clark started.

“Yes, yes, you do,” said Jimmy.

“Wait—” Lois glanced back at the boxes, “Jimmy, you put this together yourself?”

“Well, I saw the hover-mag drone frame at the AmerTek pavilion two years ago at the Metropolis Tech Trade Conference, and the processing is mostly AmazoTech AI hardware that wasn’t approved for mass-market release yet but it turns out with the company collapsing, there were a handful of people willing to look the other way and dig through lab storage for me. The lens components and digital recording are a combination of my own favorite camera companies and a handful of bits I had to 3D print myself. And I had to teach myself to solder,” Clark glanced at his hands, noting several bandages on Jimmy’s fingers and a a moleskin blister pad at his left hand’s heel. “So, I mean the components were all there (except the 3D printed ones), I just put them together.”

“But, why wouldn’t the AI tech be approved for mass market release yet?” said Clark.

“Knowing Ivo, probably branding stuff—glossy AmazoTech user interface kind of things, probably,” Jimmy was turning Scoops over in his hands, buffing away at any smudges on the chassis with his dishtowel, “But it responded just fine to my programming.”

“Can I ask how much did this cost you?” asked Lois

“Money is no object when it comes to solving mysteries and changing the face of news as we know it,” said Jimmy, smiling, which both Lois and Clark interpreted to be ‘A lot.’

“Isn’t AmerTek a weapons company—?” Clark started, adjusting his glasses.

“It’s not all weapons,” Jimmy shrugged, “Plus I figured Scoops needed a pretty hardy chassis with all the crazy stuff we get into.”

Clark and Lois still looked more concerned than convinced.

“All right, fine, I’ll give you a demo,” said Jimmy, clearing his throat, “Scoops, activate.”

The lens at the front of Scoops glowed to life and the two triangular plates flanking the lens hovered off of the drone’s spherical dome. Jimmy gently released the drone and it hovered into the air between the three of them, prompting “oohs” from both Lois and Clark.

“Oh, and Lois, can you stand right there?” said Jimmy, positioning Lois at a slightly more open area of the room.

“Me?”

“Yeah, when you hear the cue, just start acting like you’re doing a news report.”

“Oh! Um, okay,” said Lois.

Clark just kept a wary gaze fixed on the little drone now hovering over their heads. Scoops didn’t seem particularly threatening, but Clark definitely had some concerns about something made with both AmerTek and AmazoTech hardware.

“Great start, Scoops, now begin live feed on… Lois Lane,” said Jimmy, taking out his phone.

Scoops seemed to process this command for a second, then shot out the window in a tinkling explosion of glass.

There was a beat of silence. The three of them looked out the jagged hole in the window, watching as the little drone rapidly shrank into the distance through downtown Metropolis, towards the industrial district.

“It was not supposed to do that,” Jimmy said very quietly. He watched the drone zooming off into the distance for several seconds before he realized Clark and Lois were still watching him. He caught himself. “Small hiccup! Not a problem! I’ll simply recall Scoops using my phone.” He demonstratively hit a button on his phone screen, put one hand on his hip, and waited. A long, silent minute passed.

Clark was squinting out the window. “I.. um.. Jimmy, I don’t think it’s coming back.”

This was when Jimmy’s face finally dropped. “Oh come on!” He was tapping at his phone furiously, “It was doing great in the test runs!”

“Do you know where it’s going—?” Lois started.

“I’ve got both its camera feed and a GPS locator for it on my phone,” said Jimmy, “But Clark, can you—?”

“On it,” said Clark, before zipping out of the room in a blur, leaving a flutter of loose papers in his wake. A few heartbeats later and a blue-clad, red-caped figure was soaring after Scoops. Jimmy’s phone pinged. “GPS feed, let’s go!” He said, hooking his arm in Lois’s and sprinting off out of the apartment.

——-

In theory, Clark knew with enough speed he could easily overtake the drone, snatch it out of its course, and yank it back to his and Jimmy’s place, but it turned out the drone had a significant lead on him because he first got sidetracked first swooping a bike messenger out of the way of a taxi that had run a red light, then giving directions to those tourists, then taking that little old lady’s big box of dead batteries to the e-waste recycling center—okay, in retrospect she could have found a nice neighborhood boy for that last task but come on, he was right there, what was he going to do? Say no? But okay, yes, that did turn into taking the whole apartment building’s dead batteries and Lois would say, ‘Clark look at yourself, you are literally taking people’s garbage, we’ve talked about prioritizing,’ but he was already on the way and proper disposal of batteries was important too, wasn’t it? It reduced fire risk and kept toxins from leeching into the soil, so he was basically preventing future crises in Metropolis. Plus, it wasn’t like Scoops was actually in any danger, it was just… on the run, apparently. Gone rogue. The guilt did hit Clark pretty hard once he got back on task. Poor Jimmy seemed so excited about Scoops, and had obviously been working really hard on it—for all his feelings about AmazoTech, Clark wished he could have been more supportive in the moment. At least the drone’s distinctive hover-mag whir made it pretty easy for him to quickly relocate it, but something was irking at the back of his mind as soon as he got a visual bead on it once again.

The fizzing sound from earlier, he thought, watching the drone, It’s going toward where the fizzing sound was.

The drone suddenly dropped into a sharp descent and Clark shifted his position in the air to drop after it. The Metropolis docks. Scoops was now hovering around, seemingly searching among the massive shipping containers. Clark floated after the drone, feeling a bit of unease at his environment. Shipping containers could easily create close quarters, definitely weren’t fun to be slammed into, even with invulnerability, could clatter over and hurt someone if he hit them with enough force, and provided a lot of coverage for people to hide behind and within that super-senses couldn’t account for 100% of the time.

“Scoops?” Clark felt a little ridiculous calling after it, but it responded to voice commands, didn’t it? “Scoops?” He called again.

He heard a low grunt of pain on the other side of one of the shipping containers and quickly hopped over it to see two shipping yard security guards on the ground, one unconscious, the other groaning in pain. Both had steady heartbeats, but there was a faint smell of electricity in the air, and burnt hair.

“Sir?” He dropped to one knee.

The security guard grunted. “The… the bracelet…” was all he managed before passing out. Clark set his jaw before picking them both up and quickly moving them back to a safer location where hopefully their coworkers would find them, then followed the sound of Scoops’ hover-mag whirring as quietly as he could, realizing there was now a metallic resonant quality to the sound—it was coming from inside one of the shipping containers. The sound of the hover-mag had stilled to one location. He reached the source—a shipping container at the very edge of the pier, the doors were swung open. Clark leaned in to peek inside. There were a couple of crates scattered around the interior of the shipping container, of varying age and make.

Unconsciously, Clark set his feet back on the ground.

There was a woman in the shipping container, her back to him, thin hands clasped around Scoops’s chassis as the drone’s single camera eye stared down at her as if to say, ‘Now what?’ Slung across the woman’s back was a chunky chrome gun that seemed nearly as big as her whole torso, but what really caught Clark’s eye was the gleaming art deco spider bracelet on her wrist. All the guard had said to Clark was ‘the bracelet,’ which made wariness prickle on the back of his neck. Why the guard would mention the bracelet rather than the almost comically huge gun was beyond him. So… she wasn’t friendly, probably. But still, he knew he didn’t understand the situation, and just because someone had a very very big scary gun, and had probably knocked out two security guards, that didn’t mean they were incapable of reasonable discussion.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask for that drone back,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, before pausing for a second, and adding, “Please.”

She turned to face him and he froze.

She was in a sleek black outfit, with a cropped black jacket, a low-cut, side-slit black dress over charcoal web-patterned leggings, and short boots. Her hair was bleached white and probably medium length, though it was hard to tell, with short blunt bangs at the front and the back swept up into two sleek, asymmetrical victory rolls. She turned around and gave him a too-familiar catlike little smile on too-red lips, the construction of her face utterly unmistakeable.

“Lois…?” The name came out of him dumbly and he immediately realized Superman always called her ‘Ms. Lane,’ always. She had Lois’s fierce pixie features, looked to be a handful of years older, but there was a sense of both sharp awareness and unfathomable exhaustion behind her eyes that filled him with dread. She had seen things—things she could never bring to share with another human being. It was an exhaustion he caught in his own face in the mirror sometimes, when he had been Superman for just a little too long that day, and the awareness that the world was just so much was weighing on him heavier and heavier.

That catlike smile turned pitying. “Very close, Boy Scout,” she said, before, with a shift of her shoulders, she slung that massive gun down to her hip and hauled it up to point at him.

“Okay,” Clark put his hands up, “Ma’am, I think you should know, you’re not the first—”

She blasted him in a blinding ray of neon coral and day-glo yellow, the force of it slamming him into the shipping container behind him, the steel buckling with a protesting shriek at his impact. Clark still wasn’t sure how his invulnerability worked, exactly, but in that moment, when that beam first hit him, full on in the torso (Surface area—again with the surface area), the image of the charred remains of a skeleton flashed to his mind and his train of thought became a throbbing panicked heartbeat of ‘This would kill a human, this would kill a human, this would kill a human.’ He wasn’t sure if it was 3 seconds or an eternity had passed before the beam ceased and he practically peeled off of the side of the shipping container to drop on the ground with a sad thud.

“The BG-80 Toastmaster,” said the woman, stepping toward him slowly, “Courtesy of Earth-Zero. With some modifications.”

Clark struggled to his elbows and knees and coughed, smoke rising off of him.

She tsk-tsked. “Oh you are squishier in this universe, aren’t you?”

“Look,” Clark’s voice was thick, and it took some effort to raise his head and one hand from the ground to try to motion at her in an ‘I mean no harm’ gesture,  “I know the League of Lois Lanes doesn’t trust me, but whatever’s happening—”

“You think I’m with the League?” she said with a bitter laugh in her voice. She blasted him again. In the back.

Somewhere in the mind-numbing blaze of pain and the sensation of the concrete crumbling underneath him as he was slammed to the ground, he thought, Huh, that really is a lot of surface area. The second blow at least managed to kick better survival instincts into gear. This isn’t your Lois, he had to tell himself, She is very much an active threat. She wants to hurt you. She has hurt you, she is hurting you, so you have to get over the face and the voice and the everything else and act so she doesn’t hurt you or someone else again. The gun—just heat vision it—just concentrate, you’re close enough and it’s big enough that you don’t have to worry too much about hitting her—no, wait—what if it explodes? You don’t know what it’s made of—

There was a series of clicks and Clark looked up at her, willing the heat behind his eyes, but the muzzle of the gun was glowing red now and again, he got caught up in that exhaustion, that pity, in her face. She wasn’t with the League of Lois Lanes? Then what did she want? Why was she here? And what did Scoops of all things have to do with it all?

“Don’t worry,” she said dispassionately, “I’m not hitting you with anything you can’t take.”

“But—” Clark started. But she fired again. The blast wasn’t that overwhelming neon this time, but red, red, red. And then everything went black.

[shallyne]

SJM Crackshipmonth: Roommates

Feyre sat on the kitchen counter, scribbling into her notebook and singing out of tune to the song that was blaring out of their cheap twenty dollar speakers while Cassian was preparing dinner. They busy schedules took a lot of their time to do their usual shenanigans but they were never to busy to eat dinner together. Sometimes they had to wait longer for the other to come home or order a meal out, but they would not eat alone. It was one of their unspoken rules since the day they moved together. Neither Feyre nor Cassian had earned a lot, making it close to impossible to find an affordable apartment until they decided to move together, to keep down astronomical costs. What was more of an acquaintance when they moved together bloomed into a beautiful friendship. They were each other's lifelines in the four years they were living together, being there for the other when they went through tough times. Cassian was there for Feyre countless of times, a light in a dark she assumed endless. No one knew her as good as Cassian. He best friend in the entire world.

Of course, as time went by both their incomes became stable and enough for them to be able to afford their own places but neither wanted to go. They quickly slid into such a comfortable pattern of living together that they became so accustomed to it, no one wanted to break out of it. It wasn't necessary, either. They had an apartment in the city where they could reach everything by foot and their workplaces by city bus or subway.

Cassian winced when Feyre hit an especially shrill tone, whirling towards her. Their kitchen Was so small that it only took him one step, ONE, to reach her. Feyre didn't try to pay attention to his daze as he stepped in front of her, cupping her cheeks. He was tall, so tall that he reached the top of the doorframe, and broad. And so muscled that Feyre sometimes spent some moments just ogling him, keeping herself from touching said muscles. Especially his biceps that was accentuated by his form fitting athletic shirts that he always wore. She was sure that Cassian knew she was checking him out sometimes but she didn't mind because she knew for sure he was doing the same. That's what best friends do, right? It would be weird to live together for four years and not checking each other out. It's normal. Right? Yeah. Definitely.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked, still squeezing her cheeks, making it impossible to answer so she nodded once. "So you know I mean it with my best intentions but please stop singing, I don't want the neighbors to file a complaint again." he said it softly but is eyes danced with humor.

Feyre batted his hands away, giggling at the memories from a few years ago when she listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack while showering. Apparently her neighbors didn't enjoy her singing as much as she did back then because two days later they found a letter from their landlord in the mailbox. Cassian chuckled as he, no doubt, thought back to that moment too, stepping back. That movement let his eyes wander to the notebook in Feyre's hands. She pressed it to her chest, shaking her head at him, still grinning. "Don't you dare, I'll sing again." He huffed a laugh but turned away to slice vegetables again. Maybe she imagined it but she could have sworn his eyes were fixed on her mouth for a heartbeat before he did. Ignoring the heat pooling in her lower belly, she went back to her notebook. Her sketch wasn't something incriminating, she just painted Cassian whole he cooked and she wouldn't have minded him seeing that sketch but that would have lead to questions, like, Are you drawing me often? Which the answer to was yes but she couldn't tell him that and she was a lousy liar. Actually, that wasn't right. She was a decent liar but Cassian could read her like an open book. One raised eyebrow and she folded like a weak, decade old camping chair. Because he knew her so well. Because they were best friends. Of course.

When their bell rang, Feyre hopped off the counter, putting her notebook to the side and smoothed her paint splattered denim overall, "I'll get it!" she announced, skipping through their narrow, dimly lit hallway to the front door. "Hello?" she talked into the speaker. "Who's there?" The only response was a heavy, wheezing breathing. She rolled her eyes at the neighbors kid trying to troll her. "Jurian, it's 7:30, does your mother know you're out? You're late for dinner!" It was quiet for a few heartbeats until she heard little footsteps sprinting away. Gotcha, kiddo.

"It was just Jurian trying to prank us again." Feyre said with a snort as she stepped into the kitchen, immediately stopping in her tracks as she saw Cassian leaned over her notebook. "What are you doing?" she squealed, ripping the notebook out of his hand. Her face became all hot as a flush crept over her, followed by goosebumps.

Cassian smirked his usual, insufferable, beautiful smirk. "That guy you painted a lot looks very similar to me."

Feyre shook her head. "No, you must have not looked right he does not–" his smirk turned into a grin and she groaned. "Fine, I'm spending most of my time with you, of course I'm painting you one or two times."

"One or two?" he chuckled.

Feyre flipped him off, earning a ruffle of her hair. Huffing, she tried to glare at him, unsuccessfully if that glint in his eye was any indication, "Or three."

He tilted his head, his expression turning from amused to thoughtful. "Is that all? You're drawing me because we're spending so much time together?"

Feyre's ears began ringing as her puls started racing, her heart gallopping in her chest. "I–" What was that weird feeling in her stomach? It felt like a tiny man punching her from within. Or, worse, butterflies. She shut her eyes, counting from ten down as she clutched her notebook to her chest. That's a dream because this situation is not real because if it was real it meant no matter her answer, something would change indefinitely. She knew it, deep down, she could feel it. But another thought entered her mind: if something would change either way, wasn't this the opportunity to confess her feelings? To herself and Cassian. The feelings she always shoved back, scared to jeopardize their friendship. When she opened her eyes, Cassian looked at her intently. This was supposed to be a normal dinner. Nothing more. No here they are. "Imighthavedevelopedfeelingsforyou." she rattled down.

"What?" Cassian asked his, his hazel eyes shining brighter. He must have heard her but maybe he didn't believe, as much as Feyre couldn't believe that she said it.

No turning back now, Feyre Archeron. "I might have developed feelings for you." she said slower. Cassian stared at her and heartbeats turned into endless seconds. "But it doesn't have to mean anything! If you don't feel the same, we can-"

Suddenly he gripped her arm und pulled her into his own, crashing his lips on hers. Shocked, Feyre lost grip on her notebook, letting it fall to the floor between them. It took her only a moment until she melted into Cassian's embrace, singing into the kiss. But she broke the kiss quickly, looking dumbstruck at him.

"What? Was that a mistake?" he asked. Feyre shook her head. "What then?"

Feeling his heart beating under her fingertips, she breathed "I think the pasta is overcooking."

Cassian whipped his head to the oven. "Shit!"

Taglist: @timesconvert @sjmcrackshipmonth

[f0point5]

would love to hear more of your takes on the wags fashion senses!! i think you bring a great perspective

Aw thanks 😊 I’m so not qualified though I don’t know anything about the principles of fashion or aesthetics at all so keep that in mind lol

Alexandra - I have to say her style is slowly becoming my favourite. I feel like she has a really consistent style and she dresses for her body type. I do think she is quite a shy person and the reason I think that shows up in her fashion is because there’s such a stark difference between “race weekend” casual and actual casual for her. Like around Monaco or in pictures when she on holiday with friends you see her in more trousers, even jeans, whereas on race weeks even while travelling it’s a lot more float dresses that I think are designed to look more out together. No shade, she looks great either way, but i feel like it’s noticeable. That said she does have a stylist and I think that plays into it a bit. I don’t always love what she wears but it’s always soothing that I would associate with her, which I just love. I love when people dress in a way that is recognisable as “their” style. Also, She gets wayyy too much hate for wearing affordable/gifted clothing though. People are so deluded if they think even wealthy people only wear couture all the time in their early 20s. It’s not true. Find me one person from the age of 16-26 who is rich who doesn’t have at least 5 items of high street clothing in their closet. Yes they may be able to afford nicer things and appreciate quality but it’s really not that deep. Sometimes you just see a Zara jacket you like. No one cares if it’s not Chanel. Also if you’re gifted clothes, why would you not wear them? Brand deal or no brand deal if someone gives me a voucher to get something from their website and I like it? Hell yeah I’ll wear it to a race to promote the brand. Why not? They’re kinder to me than everyone on the internet complaining about me all the time anyway.

Rebecca - oof. She’s hit or Miss for me. The misses are infrequent, but there have been a couple of appearance where I’m like girl why and it’s an extreme why. The curly hair thing was a why. The outfit she wore on Saturday in Miami was a shy.. I actually generally like her style, I like that she wears a lot of neutrals. For me she epitomises the original aesthetic of Ralph Lauren, which I believe he based on his own wife. Elegant, simple, effortlessly sexy, and I actually think that fits her so well because her face matches the vibe. People have a lot to say about her surgeries and her previous jobs but purely from the looking at her I think she has the most “wealthy” aesthetic, in the face and the style. Also, she so clearly has learnt from being a model how to dress herself and put herself together well. Also that simplicity is something you learn from modelling because you’re so often made to go to casting in the bare minimum of make up and clothing and somehow you still have to make that work for you, which she does.

Carmen - She Calls her stylist too often, methinks. I love a curated and recognisable style, I do. But her and George are almost too curated, especially because I do think they take the “old money” cosplay too far. I actually dress quite similar to hear a lot of the time, but I also feel like if you are going to wear wide leg trousers and a blouse without fail all the time, you do need to add more spice sometimes. Like she could benefit from a colourful mini Kelly to go with an outfit, or maybe a pattern silk shirt, sort of Versace style, to go with the trousers once in a while. Look, even Lydia Millen (who I think of when I see Carmen because of the cosplay) adds different colours and prints in sometimes. And maybe this is going to sound harsh, but because she looks so much older than she is, I wouldn’t style her like I would style Susie Wolff. You can tell exactly when Carmen completely revamped her style, it is a very simple picture essay. I just feel like she decided on this particular aesthetic but she’s not living in it enough to be comfortable enough to have fun with, and infuse her own personality into it. So yeah while I like her outfits, I think she adheres too rigidly to the aesthetic.

Kelly - Controversial, but I don’t actual hate everything she wears. As I said, I think she really appreciates the art of fashion, and she is very excited to have access to all of it, but she gets lost in the shuffle. Contrary to popular belief I don’t actually think Kelly is a very strong character, I think she uses her clothes to make herself seen in a lot of situations where she would otherwise not feel confident, and that’s why her clothes always look like they’re wearing her. I really like her style when she is not “being seen” such as the outfit she wore when yacht shopping with Max, or the outfits she wore in Paris and Melbourne when outfit with Penelope. Or at the Longines horse show. That style is more similar to Rebecca’s which I think suits both of them. I think she looks good in Louis Vuitton, they’ve dressed her for the Monaco GP the last two years and both outfits suited her. I think she just uses the clothes as a crutch sometimes and she really doesn’t have to.

Lily M - No notes. Perfection. I love her outfits, she always looks so put together. I think she’s a bit of a foil for Kelly because she also experiments sometimes with colour and has a more mature style than say, Alexandra or Kika, but Lily always seems so at home in her clothes, they never overshadow her. I don’t love everything she wears all the time but I always think what she wears suits her.

Lily Z -Has upped her style game from last year that’s for sure. Her style is pretty unique amongst wags, but pretty…normal? Relatively affordable, not too dressy, not too attention grabbing. I do notice that she seems to put a bit more effort in now, I guess she’s more aware of being watched. But still definitely keeping herself low-key and isn’t falling into the influencer trap at all, which makes sense considering once she finishes her engineering course she is looking to work in motorsport. Sorry to say but she won’t be taken as seriously if there’s pictures of her dressed like Kika.

Kika - Dresses like every other girl her age would if they had her body. She’s gorgeous but the style to me is very a la mode.

Hope you enjoyed my style rundown 🫣

[pants-magic-pants]

heyy, hope you doing good! and sorry to keep bothering you lol

so you got me really curious

idk if this is something you would share, and it’s totally fine if not, but i was wondering how much went into the costume? both time and money -wise

Hello! I'm... surviving! I hope you are as well.

I am also curious about this question, as I certainly didn't keep track of it. Initially, I did save some receipts, but this project was so long-term that work on it became scattered. Scattered in terms of when I was able to find the right materials, when I was well enough (mentally, physically) to work on it, when progress was actually being made vs. me searching and bumbling around unsuccessfully...

When there was any sort of momentum, it was almost like a part time job, where substantial amounts of hours were put in on all or most of my days off (which I have three). I spent many days hyperfixating on it all day with just a few breaks, so maybe 12 hours in a day, for 2-3 days in a week, so 24-36hrs in a week. But not all my weeks were like that. I went a couple months not working on it at all because it was stealing my soul.

If we were to say that on average there was just one day a week from September 2022 when I began the project, until November 2023, that I worked on it all day, it'd be one day (12hrs) x 4 weeks in a month x 15 months... That means a minimum of 720hrs went into it.

As for the costs? I was very scared to tally this up, but it's not terrible?... If you consider what some cosplays cost? Some of it is ridiculous, like the fact that I probably spent $100 on beads.

I had to look up what some things cost roughly, and sort of guess, but here's my tally:

MATERIALS -- $143 $90 in various beads $10 sea glass $9 aquamarine crystals $9 blue/mirror crystals $10 hot glue sticks packs x 2 $3 black acrylic paint $6 button bases x 2 $6 blue cabochons for buttons

FABRIC -- $146 $65 velvet x 4yds (but mine was free) $13 cuff lace x 1yrd $13 upper coat lining x 1yrd $13 lower coat lining x 1yrd $5 interfacing x 1yrd $12 thread x 4 $20 swatches x 3 $5 felt for padding

TOOLS -- $80 $8 french curve and other curved rulers $15 rotary blades x 3 $30 rotary cutting board (not even a big one) $23 pattern paper $4 microtex needles (Not included $20 walking foot that was useless) (Not included I had to get a whole goddamn new sewing machine, $500)

A few notes about the spending and amounts:

As you can see! The materials COST AS MUCH AS the fabric. hahahahahahahaahahaa It adds up, it seriously adds up. You keep needing more and more, and honestly I bought it all at such spread out intervals that I wasn't aware it was adding up. It could have also been less because there were a few sales at the craft store. hahaha

I did not have to pay for the velvet because of the issues the company had in getting it to me. Overall, you may notice that regardless of that my yardage is pretty low. It won't be the same for everyone. This was what was needed to produce a garment that is roughly a children's size large, or a women's XXS. It's one way that being a miniscule, little pipsqueak is an advantage... for one's wallet. Not much else good to say about it.

Anyway, tools. Tools is an important category. The fabric needed for this project was finicky and troublesome, and it required not only study on how to handle it, but the right tools and a worthy machine to handle it. I literally could not finish the coat without getting a new machine which was actually gifted to me... as I could not afford it in a million years... There is also no way to cut velvet without a sharp rotary blade and board, and you'll go through several blades in very short time.

So I guess that comes to about $370...

Not terrible... right? And it was free velvet. And I was gifted a machine, and I also had a couple patrons who donated over a hundred dollars, bless them. On the other hand, this was only the cost of the coat, and NOT the cost including the dress shirt, cummerbund, wig, etc.

Needless to say, I am dirt poor this year. No sort of spending like this will be occurring any time soon for further work (to make the pants, to get new boots, to go to events, take pictures) unless I'm able to pick up freelance work or earn more patrons. Yeah.

[lebedame-wegelagerin]

What are your ultimate historical costuming goals? If money was no object, what kind of ensemble would you put together (including unlimited accessories and props)?

Oof, sorry for inviting you to send Asks and then waiting… looks at Calender …TWO MONTHS to answer, woopsie.

In my Defense, that is actually a really difficult Question. I think I wouldn't rely on specific Materials as much as to go for specific Modes of Processing. One Thing I desperately desire, which seems impossible to get (for affordable Prices), is white, finely, but densely woven Linen in perfect Width for Shirts and Shifts, as it was produced historically. That would be a great Base for any Ensemble. Then I'd really like a Pair of Stays, that is professionally fitted to my Body. I don't necessarily need anyone else to sew them up, but getting the Pattern just right and Help to make it perfectly would be really helpful with Things that depend so much on being well-fitting. I think I'd like those in a beautiful Reproduction Cotton Print in a light Colour. This I'd want topped with a richly handembroidered Linen Petticoat. 18th Century Embroidery is just so pretty and I know I wouldn't have the Patience to do that Embroidery myself and when Budget's irrelevant might as well pay someone to do the Embroidery instead of having it Machine-made. Now it gets complicated again, because what to wear on the upper Body with this? Jacket and Waistcoat? Riding Habit (with or without Waistcoat)? Some Gown? All of those are marvelous and would be very tempting, but given my previous Experiences Jackets and Riding Habits would be the most realistic for myself to just make. So I think for the absolute Goal I'd go for a French/Sackback Gown, loaded with so much Trims and Bows and Ruffles and whatnot. Given how much Effort and Fitting and Fabric and Notions this requires it still likely will be a long Time before I attempt anything like that myself, so it works best for an unrealistic Wish. Can't really decide if I'd prefer a Stomacher fitting the Petticoats Embroidery or being as excessively ornamented as the Gown. Of course with that I'd also need some Understructure in the Form of either a Pannier or Pocket Hoops - which one I can't say, due to having Experience with neither so far, would have to try it out. In any Case wide enough to look fancy and get that Silhouette, but not those ridiculous historical Coronation- or Wedding-Level Widths, I still want to be able to fit through regular Doors without having to rotate. I'm not sure what Kind of Hairstyle would go best with it, but given how I'm feeling entirely unqualified for any of those fancy Styles and my Hair being a bit difficult, I'd love to have that somehow realized for me. Including a perfectly fitting (in Style as in Size) Hat, because I love Hats. Maybe something round, that's nicely decorated. For Accessoires I'd definitely need a cute Fan, as I get warm too easily and what Luxury would it be to have an Outfit-specific Fan? Then I'd also want a Reproduction of the Kind of Glasses my everyday Glasses are based on stylistically. They'd be absolutely anachronistic for the Ensemble, given they seem to have come up past 1810 from what I've seen so far, but I like the Style too much and Glasses on Women in the 18th Century are generally a very rare Sight, I can't recall a single Example right now.

That's everything I can think of right now and it might have been a bit vague, but it honestly is a difficult Question, but interesting to ponder!

Thanks for the Ask and sorry again for letting you wait!

[softlittleheartsandsparkles]

if you wore lolita before... why did you stop?

Oh. I'll be vague cause my reasons are personal, and I don't want to share a lot about em.... My old coords just hold a lot of different feelings & I stopped for awhile after a relationship I was in ended. After my relationship ended, lolita fashion became a little less fun for me. & affordability for coords but also going to local (ish) meetups became harder. (My local meetups were a couple hours away, and I was landlocked, so trying to get to them, I'd be looking at a hotel stay or attempting to try to catch a 9pm ferry. Which wasn't ideal / wasn't going to happen. >.<;') You make sacrifices sometimes, and I found for me it was easier to pull away rather than be sad or anger I couldn't participate as much as I would've wanted too. :3 & I also became a bit uncomfortable, so I just ended up tucking those old dresses away. (eventually gifting them, which in the end felt the best. I was able to gift em to people who I believe would've enjoyed them.) & my mental health started to sink a lot, so my focuses shifted and I spent more energy on that and also trying to find hobbies I could enjoy locally that didn't require big travel accommodations. I do know I wore a bit of j-fashion after I met my current bf from time to time. I also like other sub-fashions and that's sorta one of the other things. = ^ - ^ = I enjoy way to much and well, my wallet can't accommodate that all. LOL (Like I like dolly kei/ natural kei / mori kei, I also really like girly kei and the subtypes. But I also really enjoy/love renfaire clothes, like corsets, the really puffy skirts, and I wanna get some more rennie clothes cause I went to my first renfaire last year and I had fun. LOL! So thats also on my list, actually rennie clothes are something I wanna work on making and diy'ing. XD its just more... I gotta figure out a time to go the the fabric store that isn't sunday, cause they aren't open on sundays. and I require patterns. LOL I'm also still really into vintage fashion, although I haven't found a good thrift shop yet for that locally. But I like vintage dresses. I also enjoy a lot of "normie" clothes too. & That all stacks up in cost. I'm also sorta at the point were I like more baggy clothes for comfort reasons, I also like my clothing to be multipurpose. Like baggy shirts I can wear all year around, or even when i'm gardening or going for a stroll, lolita I couldn't wear doing gardening or any dirty work. >.> I'd be fussing over it. "Oh no! D: NOT THE LACE. NOOOO." "FUCK I dropped an overripe strawberry on meeeeee AHHHHHH. *rushes inside with horror and majorly fussing over it*" I have wanted to do a lolita meetup tho, like a tea party. So I'm not sure. :3 I have a single dress. So I may at some point. >w<;')

[kariachi]

Oh look, Kwarrel Lives fic! Set during that ‘wandering the galaxy’ period, Kwarrel still wouldn’t admit that he’s a dad, but he’s a dad.

~~

For the first time in too long he had access to proper embroidery supplies. Nothing fancy, no beads, nothing large enough to feel comfortable in his hands, but better than the makeshift-at-best crap he’d been working with the past damn-near-thirty years. Actual needles. Proper thread. Hoops. There had been multiple times the past few decades he’d have given a foot for a proper embroidery hoop. Both of them if he could’ve had all of this. It wasn’t quite on the level of seeing a proper sky again, but it was close.

Of course, for most of that time his focus would have been on adorning himself, on bedecking himself as was right for any Perison. Why shouldn’t he? Even the barest of hem patterns was a necessity of proper dress among his people, and even someone who had done the horrible things he had, even someone who hadn’t worked to put those feelings and actions in their past, wouldn’t be denied them. Walking around in the plain, makeshift work that had been what he all could manage in Incarsecon had been humiliating, and long had he yearned to be able to do things properly again.

But, Kevin came first.

The new clothes he’d grabbed him were far from the best, but they were what he could afford off the work he could get and he was trying to keep under the radar, set a good example. Even if Kevin already knew crime well, and sometimes went behind his back to try to help. The clothes were too big too, but while wasn’t shooting up like river cane as much as a man would hope now that they had enough food semi-regularly- more importantly food he could eat semi-regularly- he was consistently growing. Things would fit right eventually, and they would look good and proper the whole time, he promised every deity he could name, his own and otherwise.

To think, for the forty years or so he’d been an adult he hadn’t given two shits about kids aside from having at least one moral. Turns out that was all the opening fate needed to go ‘you’re somebody, watch this child’ and for you to get attached.

So instead of getting himself even cheap beads, better thread, supplies that fit, he was buying new clothes, shoes, glasses. Spending his evenings drawing designs onto shirts, skirts, and pants. Simple things, geometric shapes, sparks, lightning, snowflakes and stars. About the calmest evening of his life so far had been the two of them ‘arguing’ over how you drew snowflakes and stars… Kevin wanted simple, subtle, and while Kwarrel burned to deck them both out in the brightest colors and boldest patterns to that he would stay. He spent his breaks stitching- it wasn’t as if he wasted money on his own lunch anyway- working primarily in shades of grey and blue, things that would pop gently against the dark colors he preferred. Sometimes he slipped in flowers, once a line from a poem he’d remembered from his youth, and always religious symbols.

Kevin’d shown him once the symbol his own people used, drawn it in dirt in the Void in the days following a meltdown, after it had sunk in how far he was from home. Kwarrel’d taken great care to memorize it, it wasn’t a difficult shape, with the intent to recreate it in thread when he could. He knew well how hard it could be to be the only one of your kind around, to grasp tight to connections to your past and your culture in the midst of the endless variety and change of the greater galaxy. And so he was careful to find a spot for it in every item he embroidered for him. He was also- though it may have been rude, he didn’t know- careful to find another spot to put one of the many protective symbols he’d been taught in his youth. It’d taken what felt like ages to remember it right- he’d never drawn it out himself though one of the old men had stitched it for him before he left Ha’n- but with the Void, and space, the long hours he worked, and all the things going on in Kevin’s head and his heart, he wouldn’t have been able to live himself if he didn’t try to get every bit of protection from the monsters in the dark for him.

He'd never been a religious man, but after that first time somebody’d snatched Kevin up he’d decided he was covering all his bases. That kid needed as much protection as he could get short of being locked up again. Yes, he had his own god to look out for him, but Kwarrel had many he could, hopefully, call in for back-up.

Certainly, the First Father had to be appreciating all the prayers for help actually raising this kid he was getting, if nothing else.

Kwarrel bought new-enough clothes, he embroidered away, skipped his meals, prayed his heart out for this kid who damn near everyone, nearly including him, seemed to have passed over in the crowd, and who now mattered more than just about anything.

His own needs and desires could wait.

[toychest321]

Alright toy lovers, I finally went out to Dollar Tree and got all four Friends Forever Club dolls! Read below for a fully comprehensive review of each doll and four out of five of the available fashion packs!

First impressions, I'm genuinely impressed with what Dollar Tree was able to accomplish with these! Some pretty good diversity for the few dolls they've released thus far, and the rubber fashions remind me of Polly Pocket. One aspect I really like is the fact that they went down the friend group doll line route, because as cheap as they are ($1.25 each) it won't be difficult for kids to afford to collect them!

I've ordered each one from favorite to least favorite left to right: Iha, Viera, Alanis, and Carina.

Iha is perfect imo, 10/10. The best example of the concept they were going for. Just by looking at her design you can immediately tell her personality and interests (Marine Biology). And all the little details in her outfit! Her sleeves resembling fins, the scale pattern on her skirt, the shell in her hair! And multiple pieces allows for more creative outfit combos

Viera certainly looks nice, no doubt about it (although her face kinda reminds me of Ferngully), but I'm not sure the design works as well as Iha's. Apparently her likes include Geology and Minerology? Her pink and green outfit meanwhile seems more fruit-like, reminiscent of strawberries or watermelon. I feel like they could've done a little bit more to get her character across

The first thing I noticed about Alanis is either because of the doll's construction, her uneven shoes, or her big ponytail, for some reason it's far more difficult to get her to stand than the others. I feel like the designers unfortunately hadn't taken the weight of her hair piece into account. I also dislike that 90% of her outfit is painted on, the only rubber pieces being her overalls (which would leave any other dolls wearing them rather bare) and her shoes. Luckily Iha's shirt works relatively well underneath them. Despite all that, her interest in robotics is clear, although like Viera's outfit they could have done more to get it across.

Carina is sadly the most dissappointing out of all of them. Im always a fan of textured hair in dolls (or at least as textured as hard plastic can be), and her glasses make her stand out from the others. Her outfit's deep colors even work in service of displaying her interest. But the number one dealbreaker is her outfit, namely the detail I hadn't noticed until she was out of the packaging: the sleeves of her hoodie are painted on. While this was an issue with Alanis, at least her sleeves were short enough to be easily covered by the available fabric fashions. But because of the length of Carina's sleeves, even though the rest of her body is completely unpainted, there isn't a single outfit you can put her in where they don't show. You can't even remove them, because her arms are made from that color of plastic with her hands painted on. This not only seems pointless, as her design could have worked just as well without sleeves, but it defeats this doll line's entire selling point of mixing and matching the dolls' styles. For this reason she is my least favorite, until I can find the time to paint over them. I hope that if they continue this line with alternate looks or different characters that they resolve this issue for her doll, as she clearly has a lot of potential.

Similarly to the previous image, I've arranged the dolls by the fabric fashion packs they're wearing from favorite to least favorite.

The yellow dress, due to a lack of sleeves, fits very well and gives a nice summer beachy look. While I wish the blue cherry dress had velcro in the back for the skirt, the collar is nice and snug and the ribbon belt stays in place rather easily. The pink flowery dress, on the other hand, has a much looser collar and a belt that needs some stitching to keep at the waistline. Finally while I admire their attempt at a doll-sized sweater, it seems to unravel very easily (although for an off-the-shoulders casual look you can combine it with Carina'a shorts and sneakers); the corresponding skirt piece is also too low and loose to work with its shirt, I'd suggest shortening the ribbon straps.

I've also checked, and Friends Forever fashions also fit on Chelsea and Barbie Extra Mini bodies (the latter of which matches the Fashion Friends bodies almost perfectly in height and proportions)! The fabric fashions are a bit too loose for the Extra Mini bodies, and the rubber fashions the dolls come with are unfortunately too tight to fit a Chelsea. Regardless, I'd definitely suggest them for cheaper alternatives to official Chelsea fashion packs.

Most of my nitpicks, though, can be easily forgiven by the dolls' low prices. Taking that into consideration, I can't reccomend these dolls enough! Overall I give the line a

7.5/10

[radkindoffeminist]

One of the reasons why I can never fully get behind the sustainable fashion/anti-fast fashion movement is because the movement, on the whole, has a massive classism and fatphobia issue which result in it missing the big problems in unsustainable fashion and blaming the wrong people.

And you’re free to take what I’m saying as being a slightly biased perspective since I’ve brought a lot of clothes from primark and Shien and other places which are known for being unsustainable, but hear me out.

For me, the biggest problems in unsustainable clothing (aside from being unsustainable and the abuse of workers to make them) are the following: constant style changes and the social pressure to keep up with the new trends leading to people having full wardrobe changes on a yearly basis if not more often; inability or unwillingness to fix the clothes that we currently have; and generalised overconsumption from multiple other reasons (needing something for every occasion, needing something new for special occasions, having monthly subscriptions for workout leggings, etc).

But the way in which many of these people talk about sustainable clothing makes it seem like every single person who buys clothing from these unsustainable shops is a a big part of the problem and that they just all need to stop. But that ignores why so many people are buying these clothes in the first place: they’re the only places people with limited disposable incomes can afford and very few places offer plus size clothing. I buy from Shein because very few other places offer clothing up to a size 22-24UK which is what I need and most don’t have anything close to the range Shein has and it can’t be beat on price which is important for a recent graduate with a limited income. I’m also very limited on where I can buy bras because so few places go up to a G-cup (there’s even one shop which only does like DD+ bras and I can’t buy from there because they don’t go up to my band size.)

And then their response is ‘well, just thrift everything’. Even when I was a size 12-14, I struggled to find clothes in charity/thrift/second hand stores which where in my size and style. (And bare in mind that my style was like plain blue/black jeans with plain or patterned t-shirts so it’s not anything weird or wacky.) Like, my sister and I would often go to the 4-5 charity shops in my local high street and I only ever bought a couple of bits of clothing because there was nothing in my size and style. How much harder is it going to be now that I am significantly larger? I remember a few years back, before I gained my pandemic weight, struggling to find anything that was in a size 18-20 in charity shops, but you think everyone is going to easily be able to fill their wardrobe with good quality items from charity shops? Even though it’s now more expensive due to thrifting becoming so much more popular and these shops are filled with people Shein haul dumps? Like, I even saw one woman who did these ‘outfits you can buy from a thrift store’ videos where she put together these awesome outfits for people just on what was around this one store she was in and she was challenged to do one for plus sized people and they were so boring and almost disgusting in comparison. One outfit was a random printed t-shirt and a pair of shorts. That was literally the best plus size outfit she could put together.

Moreover, their biggest argument against people buying from these fast fashion brands is that these clothes aren’t made to last. And I do agree on some level: they aren’t the best quality clothing in the world and aren’t really made to last for years on end and there are many items which are really designed for only a use or two (shoes tend to be the worst in my opinion). But with all that being said, I’ve bought primark shirts which have lasted me for years. They may last a little longer because I do try to sew up my stuff when it breaks, but it’s certainly not the wear it once and then it disintegrates in the wash type of quality that many of these activists make it out to be. Just because they’re not designed to last for years on end doesn’t mean that people don’t make them last. And also, people tend to figure out quite quickly on what’s worth the money and what’s not. I don’t buy bras or jeans from Primark because the couple of times I did they fell apart within weeks, so I used to get New Look jeans which lasted a good couple of years. But I’ll happily buy their shirts because, aside from the odd 1 or 2 shirts, most of them have lasted for at least a couple of years before they’re beyond saving or no longer fit.

It reminds me of that story about shoes and poverty costing interest. A poor man will buy $10 shoes because that’s all he can afford and, if he’s lucky, they will last a year before they’re too broken to wear. A rich man will buy $50 shoes which will last a decade because he can easily afford to do so and spends less in the long run than the poor man. But the poor man can’t buy the $50 ones because he never has the $50 to spare, only ever $10. Why can’t people realise that this applies to clothes too?