#best gold testing machine

[eccentricallygothic]

Sunshine

Pairing: Recovering Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Lab technician!You.

Description: As Shuri's top and most emotionally intelligent technician, you are the one Bucky ends up opening up to during his recovery in Wakanda… And then some.

Warning(s): Top Bucky, bottom reader, his vibranium arm, inexperienced reader, experienced Bucky, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, allusions to unprotected p-in-v sex, nipple biting, kissing, virgin reader, smut with plot, reader and Bucky like each other, brief mentions of his Winter Soldier days, age gap, teasing, humiliation, size kink, allusions to dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms, here.

Note: Can you tell I am obsessed with the arm?

MASTERLIST

.

It was usual for Bucky's corner of residence to remain deserted. He was still relatively new to Wakanda and people had heard enough tales about his past life to not welcome him with too much hospitality. They didn't take too warm heartedly to outsiders as it was. And a former killing machine was… well, you guessed it. But you were not sure that Bucky really minded. Apart from the bond he had formed with you -very slowly and steadily, might you add- during his therapy in Shuri's lab, you had observed he preferred being by his lonesome and did not mind the isolation.

The more you found out about him, the more you reckoned he probably needed it.

That was the reason why you felt guilt nip at your cheeks when you heard some leaves rustle behind you and when you instinctively turned to see what it was, you found no one other than Bucky staring back at you. Momentary panic settled in your bones but before you could try and ramble your case and embarrass yourself any more, Bucky offered you a small and friendly smile. You had no idea what it was about him that made you all shy and mum because usually you were a very confident and forthcoming person. You were Shuri's top technician after all. But there was something about the way Bucky's blue eyes watched you, how they flickered down your face just momentarily at times, the manner in which his lashes flexed if he looked further down south, and how his tongue subconsciously swiped across his lips during a conversation sometimes. 

It spread warmth throughout your whole body.

… Like right now.

“The… stars are so bright tonight” you tried your best to mask the awkwardness with a casual amiability. What? Bucky made you feel nervous, alright?  

The male only hummed in agreement as he quietly took a perch beside you, letting his longer legs down the edge of the lake that ran behind his cabin and letting his now bare feet touch the water that everyone used for swimming and fun.

The two of you stayed like that for a little bit, Bucky had never been much of a conversationalist in all the time you had known him and it was always you who had to prompt him to speak or engage in casual talk or even a discussion. A content smile played at your lips while you gazed up at the stars. You liked his corner of the land. It was very calming and serene. Perhaps even more so than the rest of Wakanda. Or so you felt.

It was Bucky's corner after all.

“So… how's the new arm?” You nodded towards the black and gold vibranium arm that the lab had finalized after various meticulous precautions and measurements while giving him the best mental and even physical therapy possible all the while. Shuri had called in Bucky this afternoon to finally install it into the socket you and other technicians had built into his side. After one last test to see if his HYDRA conditioning really was gone for good, it had been you who had with the use of tender and nimble fingers locked the arm into place. It had been a rather emotional moment and you were the only tech Bucky had allowed to touch him. Since he had never been allowed any liberty in his past life, Shuri made sure you all respected the man's comfort first and foremost.

You could never have a problem with that. 

“Pretty good, actually” your eyes followed the glint of the moonlight bouncing off the bionic limb as he flexed his fingers and slowly twirled his arm for you to see. “More comfortable too” you were a nerd so it got you excited. And no, the fashion in which the digits of his new hand had stretched had nothing to do with it.

“Yes! Shuri actually wanted to use…” You began the technical ramble Bucky didn't really understand but didn't mind either. “I suggested we instead use…” And it wasn't sympathy humming either, you had learnt that the Soldier had retained his sassy side and if you were boring him out, he had his quiet ways of giving you a shut up call. “Because I knew that it would bite on your skin…” You hadn't realized just how close you had scooted into Bucky and the way you were cradling his vibranium arm and its various crevices while it laid in your lap until his hot breath fanned some of the stray strands away from your face. “S- So…” Your voice wavered from the hyperawareness all of a sudden, eyes flickering down to his lips before you could stop them and your no longer coherent words quivered. “I- I… she… we…” A breathless chuckle escaped him.

“Y/n?”

“Bucky?” You tried to focus and as a result ended up widening your eyes so much that you looked like a fish out of water. What? Straight A bookworms like you didn't enjoy the luxury of knowing their way around the sex of interest. 

“Shut up” his words were outwardly blunt but the tone in which he said them, the half smile which made his lips handsomely droop to one side and the manner in which he leaned in soon after stopped you from getting offended just in time. Though you couldn't really visualize yourself getting mad at him anyways. 

“Okay, Bucky” was all you were allowed to blurt out before his pleasantly soft lips pressed against yours. You whimpered into his mouth from how tender the kiss was and how delicate he was about it. You had no idea what you were expecting and if you were even expecting something, but something so soft coming from a man with a stature like Bucky's, you were taken by a pleasant surprise. The kiss was warm and meaningful.

… But way too short. 

You gasped once you came to your senses and realized the gravity of the situation. You were kissing Bucky fucking Barnes! The kiss had been rather brief– too brief, but it had also felt like an eternity at the same time due to how your brain had declined you of its service.

Bucky was taken aback by your gasp and now a guilty panic began to mar his handsome features. “I… am sorry…” He wasn't as inexperienced as you but there were generations and years of lack of practice between you two and self doubt began to fill him. “I–” you vehemently shook your head when he began to back away.

“N- No! No, no!” You repeated desperately. “No, Bucky!” You finally had him after months of secret wondering and longing and you were not about to let it go. “No!” So you leaned in yourself this time and hurriedly pecked his lips before pulling back a little to look at him to see if he was still comfortable with it. The next kiss you pressed to his lips was admittedly one that caused for guilt to knot up in your chest because his expression had been difficult to read and in case he didn't want to take this any further, you needed to feel him one last time. 

Bucky wordlessly kissed you again and you didn't give him a chance to back away this time. And after that it was a passionate tussle of your hands and lips pulling and sucking down at one another until you were both undressed in Bucky's bed, tangled together. 

Bucky's vibranium fingers cupped the side of your face as he put his hot tongue into the kiss. You were laying down on your back in the middle of the bed and his huge form was bent over you, one knee pushed between your legs. The man knew how to kiss and he certainly knew how to eat, it was clear from how his tongue pressed against yours before it went to explore the rest of your mouth. The way he swirled it around your own sent heat and shivers down your abdomen and straight to your core that had begun to pulsate when you were still outside. 

“Tell me, doll,” his guttural voice made you moan into his mouth when he let his bionic fingers trail down the side of your body before they found a hold in the soft cut between your hip and torso. “Did you fantasize about me touching your pretty body like this when you used to ‘inspect’ the arm, hm?” You blushed severely. Bucky knew a slut when he saw her. Even the shy little inexperienced ones like yourself. He was twice your age and had ten times more experience. 

“B- Bucky…” You felt called out as your ticklish palms -courtesy of his stubble- began to moisten up from the shame his words made you feel. 

“Are you really gonna deny it?” His voice was low and sexily lewd. That tongue of his did the sexy thing again where he ran it along his flush lower lip and your thighs quivered in response to the visual. “Because I've seen the way you used to look at it… The way you looked at it today…” Images of him flexing his fingers as trial from earlier today appeared before your eyes and you couldn't help but wonder if you would feel them tonight. Or how they'd feel if one was to get lucky with him. The thoughts made you want to tighten your thighs against one another, only his knee hindered your wishes. 

“Bucky…” It was a whine this time and he chuckled. 

“Aw, what is it, huh baby?” He hungrily kissed your lips again before he pulled back just enough so he could be audible but not so much that the spit string between your mouths would break. “Tell me and I'll give it to you” you surprised yourself by placing your hand over his and eagerly pushing it down towards your aching pussy. Bucky snickered. “Is that what you want, pretty girl? My fingers in between these sexy little legs of yours?” You sheepishly nodded but said nothing, rolling your hips from the surge of lava his deep voice was causing in your loins. “I am sorry, baby. But this won't do” he clicked his tongue as he pretended to pull away. 

“W- What?!” Your imploration was unintentionally loud. “Why?!”  

The coral of his eyes had become so much darker than when he had first kissed you. “Because you must use your words for me first” his body weight rested on his elbow as he stroked your face with his right hand, speaking in the tone of a man addressing a child. “Tell me what you want” his metal fingers kneaded the tender flesh of your hip as his lips pressed against you in a series of pecks. 

You softly pouted. “B- Bucky!” The whine you let out was accusatory in nature. Because he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“Aw” he mimicked your pout. This man was so different from the recovering sunshine you had known before this night. The disparity caused for a drop of hot arousal to bubble past your opening. “Would you look at this pouty little thing here?” His thumb traced the shape of your bottom lip before he pressed it down with the tip. 

“P- Please…” He was being so mean. It embarrassed you. But it also added to your arousal. 

Bucky was making you work for it. 

“I know, baby. I know…” He pressed kisses along your jaw in consolation, metal fingers coming up to toy with the swells on your chest. “Pretty things like you aren't used to putting in much work, are they?” Well, no. Simply because this was the most action you had ever gotten. But it made your pussy throb nevertheless. “Well, that's not how things work around here, baby. You gotta tell me how you want me first” you whined past the thick bile in your throat but Bucky did not relent, instead choosing to intently watch you until you caved to him and your need. 

He could do that for the rest of eternity anyways.

“F- Fine…” Your voice was a begrudging whisper once you realized there was no way out. 

“‘Atta girl, go ahead…” His voice was a much agreeable velvet. 

“N- Need you…” You cleared your throat since you were barely audible. “Need you, Bucky” your back arched in shock and a whimper escaped you when you went to place your smaller hand on his bionic one to guide it to your pussy only to him twist your nipple that he had been fingering at the very last moment. 

“I am sorry, what was that?” The clamber in his breathing rate signaled that he had heard you loud and clear. But he just wanted to be cruel to your dignity. 

You were on the verge of tears. “Need you, Bucky!” Before you forced his hand down your body again. “... D- Down there!” The lower part of your abdomen was thumping like it did when you had first discovered the state of arousal. 

“Down where?” You felt like screaming at the tease in his tone.

“Y- You know where!”

“Do I?” 

You hissed. “Down there!” You made him cup your pussy. “Here! Right here!” Your breath quivered at the feel of the metal brushing past your sensitive petals. “B- Between… between… Ah!” Your blood curdled at the wanton moan you let out, surprised by your own ability to make such a sound. 

“Oh, so you mean this cute little pussy, huh?” His bionic digits finally spread themselves over your needy core and your mind nearly melted out of your ears. 

“Y- Yes!” You breathily admitted, flinging your head to the side as you gripped his shoulders from the sensory overload, your hardened nipples grazing against his hairy chest. 

Bucky tutted like the teasing asshole he was. “You gotta say it, baby” his fingers squished their way between your pussy lips and the feel of the textured digit running down the stripe between them had you shuddering. “Say it properly. Tell me you need me in this cute little pussy of yours” when you whined in protest, he licked a stripe on the side of your mouth and then sealed it with a hot kiss. “You can do it, pretty girl. You're already doing so well for me” his words had caused you to make a puddle of warm white liquid on his bed. But Bucky didn't seem to mind. “Come on.” 

“N- Need you in m- my…” Your throat dried out and your voice remained absent until Bucky hummed in an encouraging manner and dipped his head between your head and shoulder to pepper kisses along your sensitive throat, metal fingers flexing over your pussy in a rapid, circular design. Your smaller body quivered under his, knees buckling up to press into his sides from the sensitivity of it all. “Need you in my c- cute little pussy so bad– oh!” Your back jerked itself straight when Bucky's middle finger found its way into your weeping cunt all of a sudden.

“Sorry, whose cute little pussy?” His friendly smile had any intentions but.

“M- My cute little pussy!” Your toes curled at your own words.

“See, baby?” His teeth that were busy marking you his grazed against the soft skin of your neck. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” 

“Oh, Bucky!” He scooped you up against his chest with his other arm and crawled with you until your head was on his pillow and he was hovering above you. Your lips were parted and your balmy pussy was tight around his finger that fucked in and out of you as a steady pace. 

“I think we have ourselves a problem here, doll” Bucky rasped as he tickled your clit with thumb, adding another finger to your opening. You were so wet that despite the tightness of the band, the metal digit slid right in. 

You couldn't help but rock your hips against his hand, your own stroking his arm that rested on your torso while he played with your nipples. “W- What problem?” Any volume above what classified as whispering was impossible for you in your lust dumb and still shy state.

“Your pussy is too tiny for me” and that night you lived to learn that he was right. 

Minutes– no, hours had gone into Bucky opening you up and preparing you for his girth, shushing and consoling you with kisses and praises before your taking. Though you had been insistent that he not stop what he was doing because of how good it felt, tears and snot had admittedly been spilled. 

But the way his thick cock had filled you up to the brim so completely, the manner in which all its crevices had pressed against your tight velvet walls, the fashion in which his tip had created for itself a sensitive spot deep up your cavern, the affectionate and intimate style in how Bucky had snaked his vibranium arm around your form to hold you close against him while his hips had done their eventually brutal work and the length of his cock had rapidly fucked in and out of your stretched out cunt, your fingers tugging at his dark locks whilst his mouth marked you everywhere he desired, the pleasure you felt from the sting his mouth produced, and the bobbing of your knees which lay atop his against his sides… the orgasms had been loud and many. 

Though when the two of you exited his cabin the next morning and entered the line of sight of your employer who was both surprised and impatient by your being late to work for the first time ever, the mangled expressions of passion from the night before were present on neither of your faces, content smiles having replaced them.

You had high hope it was going to stay that way.

.

[ckret2]

Chapter 26 of human Bill doing his best to arm-twist his captors into doing anything he wants, featuring: the gang going to the mall, where Bill tries on some of the most ridiculous outfits known to mankind, to Mabel's delight and Stan & Dipper's despair.

(please click on the second image, you can't imagine how long it took to make those two patterns. (Okay you probably can, it was a couple hours.))

####

Bill said, "Well, you can tell Stanford that if he's got a problem with my drinking, I'd like to see him try to get a good night's sleep in an alien body without some kind of sedative! I've got a fresh new liver, three little cans of cider a day won't kill me before one of us finds a way to get me out of this body!"

Exasperated, Mabel said, "Why do I have to tell him? Just talk to each other."

"You think I don't want to? He's the one who's put two doors, an elevator, and a trick vending machine between him and me."

Mabel supposed that was true. "Okay, fine. More importantly: what do you think of going shopping?"

Bill shrugged. "Sure. I'll take any opportunity to go outside. It'll be a good test run for other trips."

Mabel frowned, clearly disappointed by the reaction. "That's it? I thought you'd be more excited. You can finally get more clothing!"

"How much clothing do I need?" He gestured down at himself, wearing his hoodie and a borrowed skirt. "I'm not naked, what more do you want from me?"

"To like your clothing!"

"Oh, right. I keep forgetting you have a whole thing about people other than you being happy."

Mabel socked his arm. "Do you just not care about clothes? I didn't expect you to be like Dipper about it."

Eugh. "It's not that I don't like fashion in general," Bill said, eager to distance himself from the household wet blanket. "I have very strong opinions on other people's fashion! It's just..."

It was just that he didn't relish the idea of standing in front of a mirror, partially nude, staring at the bone-caged skin prison he was locked inside.

He still put towels over the bathroom mirror when he showered.

"Well," he said, "isn't the whole point of fashion self-expression? And my self can't be expressed in this body." He tugged on the collar of his hoodie, "This is as close as it's gonna get."

"Does clothing have to express your self? Can't it just look really cool?" Mabel asked.

Bill considered that. "I do like looking really cool."

Maybe he didn't have to see it as dressing himself. Treat it like inflicting his design whims upon a helpless human puppet. He'd done that before, he liked doing that. He was lucky, at least, that as far as puppets went, this was an incredibly good-looking one. Aside from the neck.

"Do I have to wear that, though?" Bill skeptically eyed the knit garment held in Mabel's hands.

"Yep! Grunkle Ford's orders! It's to make sure you don't talk to people."

"Can I put it on over my hoodie?"

"As heartwarming as it is that you love it so much: no, you've gotta take it off."

"How come?"

"It's safer this way! Your hoodie might freak people out."

"Freak them out how?"

####

Soos trudged into the kitchen at 3 a.m., yawning, and turned on the lights.

The Bill Cipher, triangular and angular, gold-bricked and one-eyed, hovered in the air.

Soos screamed. "He's back! Everyone watch out! You stay away from my family, you—" Soos picked up the nearest weapon and chucked it at Bill.

The spatula bounced harmlessly off his chest and clattered to the floor. Bill took his hood off. "Wow. Thanks for getting my hopes up, Questiony."

"Oh, whoops. Sorry 'bout that. At a quick glance, that hoodie makes you look a lot like... you." Soos looked Bill up and down again. "Hey. How come you're standing on the kitchen table in the middle of the night?"

"Eh." Bill shrugged. "It passes the time."

####

"Sometimes I curse your species's overactive pattern-detection instincts." Bill snatched Mabel's offering out of her hand and trudged to the bathroom to change.

He emerged a moment later wearing the tank top Mabel had knit for him, and tugged out the hem to examine it. She'd cross-stitched on the chest: "STAY BACK! I BITE SALES PEOPLE!"

"I'd be pretty insulted," Bill said, "if this wasn't the funniest thing I've ever worn."

####

Stan pulled the old Diablo near the porch to minimize the amount of time Bill would spend in open air between confinement in the shack and in a vehicle; then waited leaning against the car, glowering at the ground like the world's surliest chauffeur (he'd even put on his suit), for Dipper and Mabel to escort the prisoner outside.

The second Bill stepped off of the porch, he looked up in amazement. "What is that?"

Dipper and Mabel looked at Bill's face, then in the direction he was looking. He was staring straight into the sun without squinting. Mabel said, "The... sun?"

"No, not the sun! I mean the—" Bill gestured toward the sun. "Whatever it's doing."

Mabel looked skyward again. She didn't see anything else Bill could be referring to. "Shining?"

"I know what sunshine is!"

"Then what are you asking about!"

Bill studied the sky a moment longer. Finally, he said, "Guess I don't know what sunshine feels like! It's been a long time since I've been naked in the sun."

Stan's head snapped up to stare at Bill. Bill was still completely clothed.

After another few seconds, arms outstretched, staring in blank-faced wide-eyed wonder at the sky, Bill concluded, "I think I'm photosynthesizing again."

This time Dipper looked over. And, Bill was still completely human—a species notoriously well-known for not photosynthesizing. "'Again'?"

Bill didn't respond. Instead, with a shrill cackle that startled the nearby birds out of the trees, he took off at a full sprint.

"Hey!" Dipper tore after him. Stan tensed up, but then grunted, leaned back against his car, and waited for Bill to trip.

Bill's run was the awkward bouncing gait of a moon astronaut on fast forward: someone who at some point had definitely learned how to run, but clearly wasn't used to doing it in this body on this world. He switched to an odd sideways crab-walk gallop—which was, surprisingly, faster—and then attempted, and failed, a cartwheel. Dipper dove for Bill, Stan laughed at them both, and Mabel shouted encouragement at Bill from the porch; Bill hopped back up just before Dipper could catch him.

He attempted a second cartwheel but was caught in the middle by an invisible force jerking his wrist. He yelped and tumbled to the ground. "I think I twisted my arm!" He sounded way too giddy about this.

Mabel looked down at her own wrist and the chain bracelet. She wasn't being actively pulled toward Bill; but nevertheless she couldn't pull her wrist any further away from him. "It worked."

"Of course it did!" Breathing heavily, Bill got to his feet and leaned backward on his heels, using the tension of the bracelet around his wrist to keep from falling. "What, did you ever doubt me?"

"Yes," Stan said. "Always," Dipper said. "Every time you open your mouth," Mabel said.

"You're all haters."

Mabel took a flying leap off of the porch. Bill toppled on his back again.

Once they were all loaded in the car—Dipper in the front glaring in the rear view mirror, Mabel and Bill in the back with Bill making faces at the mirror—Stan said, "Okay. I'm not getting you anything nice, because you're not worth it."

"Aww. And after I made you almost five grand?"

Dipper's jaw dropped. "He what?! When did—"

Raising his voice, Stan went on, "So we're going to Shop Thrifty. Any complaints?"

Bill said, "You don't wanna go there."

Stan turned to give him a dark look.

"You don't," Bill said. "They were robbed this weekend. Security's gonna be high."

"No they weren't, you can't know that. You're making that up. I'm calling your bluff."

Dipper cleared his throat. "Actually... yeah, they were robbed. I've been investigating the possibility that it might've been..." At the sight of Bill's keen gaze in the rear view mirror, Dipper trailed off into mumbles.

Bill waited a second longer to ensure Dipper was properly cowed; then said, "See? You can trust me! But if you want to go to the thrift shop..."

"Ha." Stan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel; then reluctantly said, "I guess we could go to the mall—"

Mabel pumped her fists in the air. "THE MALL!"

"Yes! Finally!" Bill dragged his hands down his face in relief. "Civilization! Other people!"

"Hey!" Stan turned around to point threateningly at Bill. Bill held up his hands to block the accusatory finger. "This still isn't a social trip. Talk to anyone and we're going back to the car."

"I know, I know. I just wanna look at people. That's all!" Bill said. "You know that feeling when you come out of a couple weeks in the hole? When you're grateful just to see anybody?"

Stan's frown deepened; but he didn't say anything. He just turned around, ignored Dipper's curious look, and started driving.

Mabel and Bill high-fived.

####

As the car pulled into a parking spot, Mabel handed Bill a pair of mirrored sunglasses with one lens popped out. Bill rolled his (yellow, slitted) eye, but he switched his eyepatch over to the lensless side of the sunglasses and put them on. "Nobody'll notice my eyes. They only look inhuman at certain angles."

"We're being extra cautious," Mabel said.

"If you're gonna make me wear shades any time I'm in public, can I at least pick a pair I like while I'm here?"

Mabel said, "Sure!" at the same time Stan said, "Not a chance." Dipper looked between the two of them, and said, "I'm with Stan."

"I wasn't taking a vote." Bill leaned forward to shove Dipper's hat over his eyes, and followed Mabel out of the car before Dipper could retaliate.

Bill's grin got a little wider and his gait a little bouncier the closer they got to the mall, until he was practically skipping through the automatic doors. "Look at this place! I can't remember the last time I visited a bazaar this booming in person! Two stories, even! Wow!"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Gravity Malls was, by far, the smallest mall either of them had ever visited. You could see from one end of it to the other in a straight shot, and the anchor store was just a more popular chain's discount outlet location. Dipper muttered, "He's trying too hard to talk up the place."

Mabel giggled. "Maybe he's easily impressed."

Bill evidently didn't care. He was too busy taking in the sight of all the stores and all the people who didn't hate his guts (or, at least, didn't know they did). He chipperly said, "Hey there!" as he wove around a haggard teenage kiosk salesman.

"Hello?" Snapping into sales mode, the kiosk kid said, "Are you interested in genuine gold-plated signet rings? We have rings with dragons, eagles, Chinese characters, American flags, football teams..."

Bill did a u-turn without slowing down. "Boy, am I! You got any secret societies?"

Stan wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders—"No, you're not interested."—and dragged him away. He lowered his voice. "What happened to no talking to anyone?"

Bill laughed. "Sorry, I got excited!"

"Uh-huh. Get 'excited' one more time, and I'll assume you're 'forgetting' the rules on purpose and we're going home."

Bill stopped laughing. "Okay, fine." He trudged alongside Stan, sulking.

####

Stan tried to direct them toward the discount outlet store; Bill looked wistfully at Edgy On Purpose; Mabel overruled them both by grabbing Bill's hand and bodily dragging him to the coolest store in the mall: 18th Century, the place where the almost-and-barely college kids shopped, and Mabel's newest fashion avatars now that she'd had a year to explore "teenage" fashion and had gotten over it. "You can tell it's for college kids, because they also sell bedsheets and inflatable furniture," she explained as they entered, just before abandoning Bill with Stan as she ran off to start collecting clothing on Bill's behalf. Bill and Stan side-eyed each other, and Bill drifted off toward the small home goods section.

"Ooh, Dipper look." Mabel pointed at a sales rack. "Out-of-season prom dresses! Those are the fanciest dresses!" She dove in eagerly, checking the size tags.

Dipper hovered behind her, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying to stand far enough away that it didn't look like he was an active participant in this shopping trip but not so far away that people might start wondering why a thirteen-year-old boy was in the dress section by himself. "Are you shopping for B—for Goldie, or for yourself?"

"For Goldie, obviously! He likes having a triangular silhouette, he needs dresses!"

"Does he want dresses?"

Mabel made a vague I dunno sound. "I haven't asked him yet."

"Maybe you should?"

"It's fine, I'm going to! He can tell me when he catches up!" Mabel pulled out a sequin-studded dress that looked like it had been constructed out of fluorescent pink peacock feathers. She paused. "Okay, it's not exactly his style, but do you think he might try it on anyway?"

Dipper groaned. "Mabel, he's a guy, he's not gonna try on a dress. He wears top hats and bow ties, remember?"

"I know, but... just for fun...?"

Dipper shook his head. Mabel sighed.

Bill rounded a rack of clothing, using a curtain rod he'd claimed out of the home goods section like it was a cane. "Hey, star girl. I know we're here on a focused mission, buuut do you think we could spare a minute to try something just for fun..." He trailed off as he and Mabel simultaneously realized they were both holding a pink peacock dress. Bill's face lit up. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up! How are you this cool!"

"Where's the dressing room."

They took off for the back of the store, Bill tripping over a whole clothing rack as he went.

Dipper watched them uncomfortably, decided he didn't want to follow, and picked his way to the front of the store, where Stan was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed tightly and a sour look on his face. Dipper asked, "Does it worry you how well Mabel and Goldie..."

"Ohhh yeah."

####

Bill swung open the dressing room door. "Well? Whaddaya think?" He fanned out the feathers as best he could with his hands. 

"It's so beautiful," Mabel said.

"It's hideous," Stan said.

"It's kinda baggy around the shoulders and chest," Dipper said.

Bill shrugged. "I've got the shoulder span of a snake and the hips of a sumo wrestler, what do you expect?"

"It's okay, I can tailor anything we get," said Mabel, who had never tailored anything in her life but was sure she had a book on it in Piedmont.

"Tailor nothing," Stan said, "we're not getting this! What, are you crazy?"

Bill said, "Obviously."

Stan gestured at him. "What in the world would you wear this for?"

"Who cares? It looks cool and this body is merely a meat armature to drape coolness upon." Bill stepped back into the dressing room to eye the dress in the mirror. "Color's a little uniform, though. I'd need some accessories to break it up."

"I think you're right," Mabel said, stroking her chin. "You know what color goes best with hot pink?"

Simultaneously, she and Bill said, "Lime green," then cracked up and pointed at each other excitedly. 

Stan and Dipper exchanged a tired look.

####

"How about this one?" Bill looked at Stan and Dipper, who were standing guard while Mabel searched for more clothes. "It's obviously the best shirt in the store, but is it me?" Bill was wearing a loose Hawaiian shirt covered in bright multicolored triangles with animal skin patterns—leopard, zebra, tiger, checkers—and a pair of black jeans that fit his hips but consequently drowned his ankles. "Trick question. It's me all over!" He laughed. His laughter petered out. "It's... it's more me than I am. Wow."

Dipper and Stan didn't laugh. "I'm a Hawaiian shirt kind of man," Stan said, "but if the choice was between that thing and going naked, I'd go naked."

"Keep your nudist fantasies to yourself, Stanley." Bill studied his reflection again. "The shirt's great, but they make the pants look dull. I need something that coordinates with it. But what..."

Mabel returned while Bill was musing on his shirt. She wordlessly held out the pair of cheetah/tiger print rainbow leggings she'd been retrieving. It matched the shirt perfectly, in the sense that they both had so many colors on them that inevitably some of those colors were accidentally the same.

Bill accepted the leggings with an expression close to awe. "You're a fashion genius," he said. "Are you sure you don't want your own planet?"

"Not from you," Mabel said.

And for a moment, Bill actually almost looked hurt.

####

Bill held up several shirts thoughtfully. The first was an eye-searing abomination; the second was a retina-burning nightmare; and the third was about the same, but it was covered in smiley faces, and somehow that made it worse.

"I feel like they'd all have the right psychological effect on my enemies," Bill said, "but all three is a little redundant, isn't it?"

Not looking, Stan asked, "Is the effect you're trying to have boring your enemies to death? Because it's working."

Bill scowled. He chucked all three at Stan's face. "Fine! Stick them in the 'maybe' pile, I'll narrow them down later." By this point, the "maybe" pile in Stan's arms was almost too big for him to carry.

"My willingness to indulge Mabel is losing to my annoyance at indulging you," Stan said. "I thought this was going to be a quick trip."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda getting into it."

"Well, would you get out of it and dress like a normal person?"

"Okay, fine. I'll try on something subtle—"

"Goldie!" Mabel ran up waving a ruby red jacket over her head. "Look what I found in the clearance bin! Glittery vinyl!"

Bill's eyes widened.

Reverently, Mabel said, "It looks like a 50's diner booth."

"Is the picture on the back a—?"

"Yeah, it's a puking kangaroo."

Bill snatched the jacket from her hands. "I'll try something subtle after this."

Stan groaned. "I'm gonna stretch my legs." He dropped the "maybe" pile on the floor. "Dipper, make sure the demon doesn't try to end the world while I'm gone."

Dipper resigned himself to the fact that this shopping trip was never going to end, and curled up on the floor to wait to die.

####

"Now, this is a keeper," Bill said, examining the summer dress in the mirror. With Stan gone, Bill had a moment of leisure to properly inspect the way the fabric moved and draped. He was using the opportunity to grab the skirt and twirl it like a three-year-old who'd never worn a dress before. "It really speaks to me."

Mabel asked, "Is it because it's covered in—?"

"It's because it's covered in yellow triangles. I know what I like!" He spun around to see how the skirt flared out, tripped and fell over—"I meant to do that!"—and heaved himself back upright with his curtain rod cane. "I'm fine, shoo." He waved off Mabel's attempt to help, and brushed off the dress. "Too bad it looks weird with pants. I'd prefer my legs covered, but dresses are the only thing most human stores carry that flatter my shape, so what're you gonna do."

"What about more leggings?" Mabel asked.

"Do they have any black ones that don't look like cheap spandex?"

"I think I saw some that look like jeans!"

"It'll do. Good thinking, star girl."

"Any time, triangle... guy." Mabel paused. "Hey... just out of curiosity—since I don't think we ever really covered this, since you're an alien and all—aaare you a guy or a girl?"

"I'm a triangle! C'mon, you already know that."

Mabel opened her mouth to protest that Bill hadn't answered her question; hesitated as she realized that maybe, in fact, he had; and instead asked, "Is a triangle more like a guy or a girl?"

Bill paused as he gave the question a moment of contemplation; and then he said, "No, not really."

Dipper, who'd been using the "maybe" clothing pile as a pillow and pretending to ignore everything Bill did, finally gave in to the urge to glance over curiously.

Mabel concluded a triangle must be either in the exact middle of the scale, or else outside of it completely. "Oh! Okay."

Bill elbowed Mabel and said, "Keep this bit between you and me," blithely ignoring the fact that Dipper was totally within earshot and now seething about being ignored in return. "But if anyone else on this planet asks, I'll usually imply I'm a 'man,'" he put the word in finger quotes, as though he wasn't wholly convinced that "men" really existed, "but—that's strictly for business."

"Business?"

"You know, work stuff," Bill said dismissively. "It makes things easier. See, for the last few millennia, most humans have taken a male's suggestions a bit more seriously than a female's, even when the entity they're talking to is an all-knowing extra-dimensional divine alien angelic muse. Crazy, right?" He said this like he was imparting some great secret he'd figured out by himself.

"Ugh, yeah," Mabel groaned. "Sexism."

"Sexism," Bill sighed, as if he had any dog in this fight at all and wasn't just pretending he could commiserate with his only local friend. "So I figure I can get things done faster as a Bill than a Jill. But honestly? Your local gender system doesn't make any more difference to me than it would to you if somebody asked how many sides you have."

Mabel considered the matter of her hypothetical sides. "I feel like I'd have seven sides."

"Oho! I stand corrected." Bill laughed. "I would've pegged you as a pentagon. I'll remember that."

Mabel had no idea what information she'd just conveyed to Bill, but she felt like he was impressed she had an answer at all.

####

"How about this one?"

"I love it. It's so mysterious," Mabel said.

Stan said, "I thought you were gonna try on something subtle?" 

"What's more subtle than camo! That's the whole point of it!"

Dipper said, "You're not wearing camo."

Bill looked down at his galaxy print tank top, galaxy print button up, galaxy print skirt, galaxy print leggings, and galaxy print sneakers. "I guess what counts as camouflage depends on the context."

"Wh—" Dipper blinked at Bill in disbelief. "In what context could this possibly qualify as camouflage?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Drily, Stan asked, "You got travel plans taking you to outer space anytime soon, pal?"

Bill's shoulders slumped.

"Now put on something you might actually wear," Stan said.

####

Bill opened the dressing room door with four sets of basic black leggings and pants, a couple shorts, and several plain tops in various shades of gold and yellow. "Okay, done."

"Not gonna model each of these for us?" Stan asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Fine! You kids don't need to weigh in on these—they're not as fun as the other outfits you were busy unappreciating." Bill shoved the whole pile against Stan's chest, burying the "maybe" outfits he'd insisted he would narrow down. "Okay, let's go."

Stan scowled. "How many outfits did we agree to get you?"

"You didn't." Bill headed to the front of the store.

Mabel started to follow him, paused, glanced back at Stan, and said, "Maybe you can just... toss some of it back on the racks?"

"Maybe you can toss most of it," Dipper said. "How much does he really need, like two shirts and two pants?"

Mabel laughed. "Shut up, that's what you wear!"

Stan rolled his eyes, but headed to the front of the store with an armload of clothing.

The cashier smiled as Bill approached, read his "I BITE SALES PEOPLE" shirt, and quickly turned her attention to Stan. "Hi! Did you find everything you needed?"

"Yeah, and then some," he grumbled, shooting a look at Bill and Mabel. He dumped the pile of clothing on the counter with a heavy groan proportionate to the emotional weight of carrying Bill Cipher's shopping, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Where'd I put my wallet?"

As the cashier scanned the clothes, took off the security tags, and stuffed them into bags, Stan alternated between snatching up the bags to sling them over his arms—looking grumpier with each one—and searching for his wallet. "I'm sure I put... ah-ha!" He withdrew it triumphantly. "There! I know I've got a twenty in here somewhere."

The cashier immediately stopped scanning to give Stan a perplexed look. Hopefully, she asked, "Will you be paying for the rest by card?"

"What do you mean, 'the rest'? How much could this stuff—?" Stan grabbed the price tag on one of the shirts, squinted at it, and grabbed his chest. "Holy moly! For one shirt? This is robbery!"

Mabel winced. "I guess it's a little bit pricier than the thrift shop, but it's not that bad—is it?"

"Not that bad?! For prices like this, it'd be cheaper to get a boat ticket to Taiwan and rob the sweatshop where they sew this stuff! Forget it!" He started sliding bags off his arms and tossing them back on the counter. "Keep them! We're not shopping here!"

"But Grunkle Stan!" Mabel grabbed his coat. "We just found a bunch of stuff that's perfect for Goldie! Please?"

"Do you think I care? He'd be wearing potato sacks if I had my way! We'll go to the outlet store, those are the prices he deserves."

Dipper groaned. "Do we have to do this whole thing all over again?" He and Mabel both looked pleadingly at Bill, waiting for him to protest the return of his carefully-curated wardrobe of tacky golden horrors.

Bill shrugged. "If he didn't bring enough money to the mall, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Hey! This isn't on me! If it wasn't for you, we'd be at the Shop Thrifty right now!"

Bill scoffed. "Come on, Stanley. It's the 2010's. Even at a thrift store, how far do you think a Jackson's gonna carry you?"

"I think it'd get me a sock I could cram in your mouth, how do you like that?" Stan tossed the last bag on the counter, told the dismayed cashier, "And he looked ugly in everything he picked out, anyway," and stomped toward the door.

"I'm so sorry," Mabel said to the cashier, and hurried after Stan with Dipper. "But Grunkle Stan, we found so many nice things here! We could at least get a couple shirts or leggings..."

"Hey," Bill said. "It's okay, kid."

Mabel shut her mouth, but she didn't look happy about it.

The party trailed behind Stan past a couple of stores, before Bill sped up to walk alongside him and asked, "Well? What's our haul?"

Stan grunted. "What?"

A slow, sly grin spread across Bill's face. "Come on. You can fool the humans, but you can't fool me. What's our haul?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Bill raised a brow.

Stan only lasted a couple of seconds before he cracked a mischievous smile as well. "Oh, did you mean this haul?" He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a pair of leggings. And then another pair. And then, from his other pocket, a Hawaiian shirt. And—

Mabel gasped. "Grunkle Stan," she hissed. "You didn't!"

"Aw, man." Dipper smacked his forehead. "So all that was an act?"

—and three pairs of socks out of his jacket sleeve, and a dress from his inner coat pocket, and— "Yeeep. I've still got it."

Mabel and Dipper exchanged an exasperated look.

"And you were gonna hit the thrift store." Bill lifted his sunglasses so Stan could see him roll his eye.

"Hey, they've usually got less security than the mall. It's a safer score."

"Cheaper, too."

"You shut up! I'd like to see you do as well."

A bright smile snapped across Bill's face. "Would you! Then get a load of this—" He showed off the front and back of one empty hand, then the other; curled one into a fist; pushed his fingers into the fist and plucked out a corner of fabric; and then, like a magician revealing a long line of scarves tied at the corners, pulled out one garment after another, shirts and skirts and pants. Mabel buried her face in her hands. Dipper looked around like he expected mall security to run up and immediately arrest them all. Bill said, "What'd we lift, almost half the stuff I picked? Neither of us managed to get the kangaroo jacket, did we."

"How did you..." Stan trailed off, jaw dropped.

Bill smugly stuffed the clothing back under his tank top. "All that, and... these." Bill lifted one foot and wiggled it, showing off the yellow foam clogs he'd changed into.

"You just walked out with those on?"

"Sure! You'd be amazed what you can do in plain sight—as long as you don't call attention to it."

"Where the heck are your sandals?"

"Not my problem." Bill gestured vaguely back toward 18th Century with his curtain rod cane. "From the lost-and-found they came, to the lost-and-found they shall return."

Stan, having had his attention called to the curtain rod cane, snatched it out of Bill's hand with a muttered "No weapons," and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Bill watched it go with an expression of miffed resignation. Stan said, "Okay, but how'd you get the security tags off all of those?"

And Bill's grin was back. "Maybe I'll show you—if you show me how you got all that clothing out of those bags into your pockets."

"I thought you were watching."

"My eye is better than my physical coordination. Give me a couple pointers and I'll give you a couple."

Stan looked doubtful. "I just saw you hide half a suitcase under a tank top. I don't think you need any more help with..."

"I'll sweeten the deal," Bill said. "I'm not really a clogs guy. You set me up to walk out with a pair of proper dress shoes, and I'll help you grab a couple rings from that booth at the door?"

Stan scowled. Bill grinned wider. "Come ooon. I know you were eyeing those rings too."

"If we get caught and you throw me under the bus, I'm dragging you down with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it! I don't think either of us can afford to show up on the police's radar, do you?"

"All right, fine. You've got yourself a deal, Cipher."

Mabel silently slid her cell phone over to Dipper so he could text Soos and Ford about this unsettling development.

####

(Thanks for reading!! As always, if you made it this far I deeply appreciate any thoughts & comments you want to share! Stay tuned next week for the unsettling development to get Even Worse.)

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 11

The second one for today. Steve and Eddie have an actual conversation about their wants and needs from the relationship.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Eddie laughed when Steve explained the reason for the flowers that night over drinks. “Do you really think your parents will leave you alone now?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But they’ll fuck off for awhile at least. And honestly you can’t buy that kind of peace.”

He smiled. “Damn straight. My own dear ole dad came out of the woodwork when Corroded Coffin hit it big. Tried to take credit for teaching me to play guitar.”

Steve leaned forward, chin on his fist. “I’m guessing that’s nowhere near what actually happened?”

“Oh hell no,” Eddie scoffed. “He taught me how to hotwire cars, blend into crowds to get away from cops, and how to lie through your teeth so convincingly that no one could tell. But you want to know who did teach me how to play? My Uncle Wayne. The man who took me in when the cops finally caught up with the rat bastard.”

Steve sighed wistfully. “God, what I would have given to have an Uncle Wayne. But sadly, when the test came back as infertile all they could think about was how to ‘recoup the loss of having an omega for a son’.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I wish I was,” Steve said mournfully, shaking his head. “Most of the men on my dad’s side of the family were alphas and if they weren’t then they were omegas pumping out babies like a machine.”

Eddie winced and took Steve’s free hand in his. “I’m sorry, baby. That’s got have been so hard.”

Steve squeezed Eddie’s hand with a sigh. “The disappointment was so palpable in that doctor’s office you could cut it with a knife.” He shook his head. “They even refused further testing, even though my great-great grandmother on my mother’s side was a golden omega.”

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyebrows shooting up. “Damn. Those are super rare.”

Steve nodded. “I have two friends with red hair and that’s more common than a golden omega.”

“But if they were so desperate for money why didn’t they test for it?” he asked gently.

Steve shrugged. “My dad is a skinflint. The cost of the test outweighed the gamble on my chance of being ultra-fertile instead.”

“Damn just think you could have had your choice of any alpha in the country,” Eddie teased, “if they had and you turned out to be one.”

Steve shook his head, wrapping Eddie’s hand in both of his. “Nah, I prefer it this way, I have a job I love, a best friend I couldn’t live without and you. If I had been a golden omega, my parents would have made me chose from the crustiest, conservative assholes they could find.”

Eddied ducked his head and blushed to the roots of his hair. “So I’m assuming the label sent you a copy of the interview today?” he asked shyly.

Steve nodded. “Of course. You were so cute.”

“So call me stupid,” he said clearing his throat, “but I didn’t know escorts were allowed partners. I looked it up, a couple even have bonds. Like how the fuck does that work?”

Steve laughed bright and clear and Eddie went to remove his hand from his, but Steve held on tight.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, babe,” Steve soothed. “I was laughing because Robin thought that you weren’t aware and told me to clear it up with you. That was the main reason for drinks tonight.”

Eddie blinked at him owlishly. “Wait, really?”

“Of course,” Steve said. “But to answer your question about how omegas with bondmates can still be escorts, you forget that a lot of what we do isn’t about sex. Everyone associates escorts with sex, but that’s just a common misconception. Sometimes people just want the attention of a kind omega with no strings attached.” He kissed Eddie’s knuckles gently. “And then there are the ones that want a ‘cheating’ scenario without the drama of actually cheating.”

Eddie frowned. “So how does that work?”

“They want to have sex with a bonded omega,” Steve explained. “But without having to worry that there would an actual alpha gunning for them.”

“And their alpha doesn’t care they’re having sex with other alphas?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes gentle and curious, not judging.

Steve shook his head. “Nope. Things can change, of course. A famous Starcourt escort Mia Sanchez retired last year because her alpha asked her to. But they had been bonded for fifteen years before retirement.”

“Huh.”

That filled Eddie with a warmth he didn’t know he was missing until that moment. He licked his bottom lip slowly.

“And if I wanted to properly court you,” he asked easily, “what would you say to that?”

Steve grinned back at him. “I’d say yes.”

Eddie leapt from his seat and came around the table to kiss him firmly on the lips.

Steve laughed, breaking the kiss, but Eddie didn’t mind. He couldn’t be happier.

“So you don’t want me to chose between you and my job, then?” Steve asked, referring to their contract.

Eddie shook his head. “If there was a way that you could be happy with both, darlin’, that was choice I was always going to make.”

“What about the Grammy’s and your rut?” Steve asked, concerned. He felt bad, but he still wanted to get paid for those things. He didn’t want to suddenly have Eddie expect them for free now that they were courting.

“Don’t worry, Stevie,” Eddie murmured into his omega’s ear. “The contract will still be for those things, we just won’t have a fake break up of our fake relationship after my rut.”

Steve’s lip wobbled. “Would it be a real break up of a real relationship?” he asked softly.

Eddie pulled him in for a big hug. “Not for all the gold in all the world. Okay?”

He let out a shuddering breath. “I’m okay with that.”

Eddie kissed him again before going back to sit down in his chair. “So for the Grammy’s I looked over those two outfits you sent me for suggestion on what you should wear.”

Steve smiled, grateful for the change of topic to something safer and more comfortable for him. “Yeah, which one did you prefer? I mean, I have closet full of amazing clothes and if nothing suits your fancy...” he half shrugged, “it gives me chance to go shopping.”

Eddie laughed. “No, no. I loved them both. Though taking you shopping has it’s appeal...” He shook his head. “I’m getting off the track here. I want you to wear the mini to the awards and the pant suit to the Vanity Fair after party.”

Steve’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and he grinned. “That is a fantastic idea. I love it.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Eddie said with a grin. “Do you get to wear much stuff that’s just for you or do you have to be ‘Starcourt Escort’ twenty four seven?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s a bit half and half if I’m honest. I don’t have to be dressed to the nines all the time...”

“But if you don’t,” Eddie said with a growl, “all the tabloids say that you’re ‘letting yourself go’?”

Steve blushed and nodded.

“What would you want to wear if you weren’t ‘escort Steve’?” Eddie asked, motioning to the waiter that they needed another round.

“It’s stupid,” he said, tucking his chin tightly to his chest. “I’m a fashion plate. That’s what I’m supposed to be.”

Eddie clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. “None of that. I won’t let anyone talk shit about my boyfriend, not even himself.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “I like the polos, Henley’s, and chinos look. Lame I know.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. That was not the answer he had expected at all. He thought it would have been sweat pants and baggy sweaters.

“It’s not lame if it makes you feel good about yourself,” he insisted.

Another couple of bottles of beer arrived and Steve grabbed one. He just held it in his hands. He let out a long sigh.

“You know how we can roleplay situations for clients?”

Eddie nodded. They had done the meet-cute in a bar roleplay just last night.

“There’s one you won’t find on my list,” he continued. “At least not anymore.”

Eddie could feel the tension build between them. Whatever this was about was fucking hard for Steve to talk about.

“Sometimes busy executives and business owners like to have a scenario where they come home to a cute little omega housewife. If it’s a female omega, think the 1950s type. Dresses and high heels.”

And suddenly what Steve was talking about hit Eddie like a fist to the solar plexus. Male omegas would be in the polos and chinos. But the roleplay had tainted Steve’s love for those kinds of clothes and it made Eddie furious.

“And if you’re seen out and about wearing them,” he guessed, “people think you’re doing the roleplay, don’t they?”

Steve flushed in shame. He nodded once.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Are you sure you like this job?”

Steve’s head snapped up. “Yes! The good far out weighs the bad. Like ruts without an omega can actually fuck up an alpha body. Like completely wreck it to hell. So I get to go in and help these alphas that don’t have an omega they can trust and help them through one of the worst weeks of their year and that it happens multiple times, anywhere from three to five depending on their age. Yes, I’m trained to be charming and great in bed, but that? That’s what makes everything worth while.”

He was panting at the end of his rant, eyes wild, hands clutching Eddie’s fiercely.

Eddie chuckled. “All right, darlin’. I didn’t mean to offend.”

Steve ducked his head and Eddie gently lifted it back up with two fingers. “I like that you’re passionate about what you love, honey. It makes you sparkle.”

Steve looked down at his watch and cursed. “I’ve got to go.” He looked back up at him. “But I’ll see you on Friday?”

Eddie grinned. “It’s a date, sweetheart.”

Steve hopped off his seat and walked away.

Eddie shook his head and murmured, “Hate to see you leave, but damn do I love to watch you go.”

Steve ass looked amazing in whatever the guy wore. But now Eddie understood his need for hyper-masculinity. Even when he was wearing that golden dress, it highlighted his flat chest and broad thighs.

People made assumptions about who Steve was based on what he was wearing at all times and if he was even the slightest bit not what people expected he got hell for it.

In a lot of ways, Steve’s every move was even more scrutinized than Eddie’s and he was the frontman of a very famous metal band. He couldn’t imagine living the way Steve did. But despite all the hang ups and downsides, Steve was happy and you really couldn’t buy that.

He paid the tab and walked out onto the pavement. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. He let out the smoke slowly and flicked away the ash.

Eddie was content with his lot in life for the first time since he moved in with his uncle, Wayne. Wayne was always supportive of whatever Eddie wanted to do in life and was happy to hear about Steve.

And even happier when Eddie had called him this afternoon to tell him Stevie might agree to date without all the hoopla of the agency. Everything Eddie did, Wayne was sure to hear about it first.

Wayne was home. No matter the distance. Something Eddie never thought he’d find out here in California.

Stevie was quickly becoming home for him. He never thought he would want to mate, not after seeing how horrible his parents acted. But now?

Now he couldn’t wait to start courting the most beautiful omega in the world.

Eddie took another drag of his cigarette and then flicked it away. He hailed a cab and gave directions for home.

He couldn’t wait to show Steve off on live television. And maybe just maybe win a Grammy or two.

****

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth

[payasita]

if u cant het a permanant tattoo get some temporary ones lol

holy shit ok you definitely didnt mean it in the way im thinking but in the context of the upcoming wedding, i cannot think of anything funnier

im not gonna do that because i dont have beef with the bride (my cousin) but the idea of getting like, a sleeve full of temporary tattoos out of a quarter machine or whatever JUST to put them on for a family member's wedding is like. utterly indecipherable levels of power play. no one would know why i did that. i would not offer an explanation either because fuck if i know why either. but it would look like some sort of revenge plot and would start a family war that'd go on for years. my mom wouldnt know how to defend me. she can't pull the queer card because im not even out (i mean i'm not subtle but the queer thing is in there with tio's messy divorce and why abuela's youngest son is blonde [abuelo was not] vis a vis Things We Don't Talk About) so the best course of action would be to never invite me to the same functions as this cousin and occasionally test the waters by bringing up that i exist once a year. cousin has a baby. that baby would learn in like ten years that they have an auntie that mama wont talk about and theyd think that the auntie must have killed someone or something but no it turns out they just showed up to mama's decked out glamorous rose-gold themed instagram curated wedding in two sleeves of 35 shitty vegeta and pikachu tattoos from the corner bodega, making several expensive photos utterly unusable. and that'll be it. theyll blame me for it when abuela dies

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Can I have a strength chart of your skeletons? Like, who are the stronger ones in a fight? Which one can break you in half like it's nothing?

It's from the strongest ones to the weakest ones.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He is toying with you. He adapts to every kind of situations to the point it's near the impossible to find a weakness. He masters all combat styles, close range, and long-distance, his attacks are extremely powerful and drain people's life force the way classic Sans does. He is unpredictable, testing several attacks to see which one is the hardest for you. And once he finds your weakness, you're pretty much dead.

Mafiafell Papyrus - Torpedo is extremely good at fighting, he got trained since he was a kid to become a mafia leader. His aim is very precise and because of his very high level of violence, he can one-shot a strong monster. He knows martial arts too, and he's very good at self-defense. It's hard to surprise him. He's a great strategist and often predicts how fights will go. He's extremely dangerous and with Wine, probably one of the most deadly. You don't want to fight him, really.

Swapfell Sans - He has the most LV with Torpedo and Wine. He is silent, precise, and doesn't hesitate to attack by surprise. He's incredibly good at guessing other people's moves and he adapts his strategy depending on his opponent. His purple magic is pretty unique, even in his world. He can trap souls in complex bullets pattern, making his opponent feel like they're suffocating and constantly pressured. Rare are his opponent to recover quickly after a fight. He's a killing machine.

Horrortale Papyrus - He is a pacifist, and you're very lucky. Because if Willow really wants to, he can break you in half like a stick. He can uproot literally any tree. You really don't want to fight him.

Underfell Papyrus - Edge is a scary opponent in a battle. His attacks are strong, precise, and merciless. He knows what he's doing and added to that he is a great strategist who can be unpredictable. However, his patterns are often the same, so once you fought him once and survived, it's not impossible to beat him. His Undyne has the same problem, as it's something they learned in military school. It's better to master an attack to perfection than improvising and missing a target.

Killer Sans - He's a mercenary and he's the best at his job. He has a deadly aim and his very high LV makes him deadly in one hit or two. However, he has a big mouth and he can be distracted if you start to flirt with him. Sometimes, his jobs are too boring as well and decides to spare you randomly just to see what will happen. He can definitely kill you, but he's unpredictable and can randomly save your life. You're not sure how to react.

Mafiatale Papyrus - He doesn't have strong magic like Edge or Nox, but he is a master in martial arts. He's crazy good in hands-to-hands and once he's reaching you, you have pretty much no chance. However, he's not good at dodging, so he can be taken down with a gun or a bow.

Dustale Sans - Despite being a relentless killer, he doesn't look for fights anymore. However, if you attack him, well, cry. He has the strength of classic Papyrus combined with classic Sans's strongest attacks. He is quick and he's using his teleportation skills as a weapon to hit at a safe distance. If you attack him, most likely, you won't survive.

Horrorswap Sans - Nugget is a vicious one. His magic is not as strong as it used to be, but he is still really strong and he tends to hit in the back. He's a silent attacker, you usually don't see him coming and it can be deadly really fast. Added to that, he's a survivor and knows how to defend himself in death or life-type of situations. He's dangerous.

Disbelief Papyrus - He's like Papyrus, except he finally accepted his magic is strong and that he doesn't have to be scared of it. It's Papyrus at his full potential, and with training. After what happened Underground, Delta refused to stay defenseless and asked Asgore to train him. He's pretty much as strong as Undyne was, but with attacks that can hurt three to four times harder.

Underswap Sans - He's equally as good as classic Papyrus, but with more advanced training as he is really a police officer, and deep inside, a little bit of a royal guard. His bullets are more precise and he is terrifyingly good at finding weak points.

Undertale Papyrus - Since he was a little skeleton, Papyrus always had trouble with his magic because it was way too strong and wild for a skeleton of his age, or any monster really. No one wanted to have him as an opponent because of how unpredictable his attacks could be. Long patient-years of Sans training helped him to control his bullets better, and Undyne kinda improved his efficiency as their friendship grew stronger. Papyrus doesn't like to hurt people for nothing and will always find an alternative way. Even when he's fighting, he usually holds back his magic by fear of injuring someone. However, in a real fight against a really angry Papyrus who wants to hurt you, you don't have a chance. It never happened. But who knows, maybe?

Horrortale Sans - His magic is very unstable so he doesn't use it often. However, he has the physical strength of a bear and he won't hesitate to use it if he feels threatened. He's not unbeatable, but he's for sure very scary and difficult to fight with.

Mafiafell Sans - He's not good at direct fighting, but he has his overtrained dogs that can deal terrible damages on his command. He's also very good with explosives and he is a great strategist. He tends to plan his attacks. If things go how he planned, it's usually deadly. He's not good at improvising, however.

Error - He's neutral. As long as you don't attack him, he's not attacking you. However if you attack him despite his warnings, well, cry. Error can pretty much erase you from time and space. Luckily for you, because of his bad eyesight, he's not that precise. If he gets you though, you're dead. But if you're clever, you don't start a fight with a destroyer to begin with, what are you even thinking?

Outertale Papyrus - He is terrifyingly good with space attacks. By that I mean he's throwing a large number of bullets in every direction and good luck to dodge (a bit like what classic Asgore can do, but a little less powerful). However, this comes with a major problem: he runs out of magic very quickly, which forces him to eat a lot of magic booster and defend before attacking again. Usually, people keeps him as the last straw because, well, no one expects a huge attack like he can do at the end of a fight.

Horrorfell Papyrus - He still has a good hand on his magic, which is incredibly precise, but the loss of his legs is disabling him in a fight. He was a hand-to-hand attacker before, and he now has to rely on long-distance attacks, which is not his best skill. But he's learning fast, and if he has to, he will gladly perfect his attacks. However, he wants a peaceful life now so he would be equally happy if he didn't have to.

Mafiatale Sans - He's not really a fighter but he has a very good aim when he's using guns. However, he's lazy and doesn't like to fight too much, so sometimes he's missing on purpose so his attacker can run away and he doesn't have to fight anymore.

Undertale Sans - He's very dangerous because of his Karma skill which can inflict as much damage as the level of violence of his opponent. Luckily, Sans hates to fight and will pretty much wait to be on the verge of dying to retaliate.

Horrorfell Sans - He's not that strong, but with all the LV he gained Underground, he has more confidence. Don't underestimate the fact he has only one arm, he is very good with a dagger. He prefers to defend, but he can do real damage if he wants to. He's done being bullied by stronger monsters.

Underfell Sans - People usually think he is strong because he looks scary, but really, it's all bluff. Red can fight, but he's actually not that strong and can get overwhelmed quickly in a fight. He can fight drunk people with no effort, but if the guy wakes up and starts to retaliate, he usually retreats or uses defensive tactics to get out of the fight in one piece.

Farmtale Sans - Never stand between a farmer and his precious tractor. Sam doesn't have any magic, but he has fists and he is surprisingly good at using them. It's even surprising him sometimes. When he's really angry, he can deal actual damages and he's hard to calm down, which makes him actually dangerous.

Ink - Ink is a pretty good fighter, but he's chaotic. His attacks are not precise and he tends to miss a lot. Added to that, he has the attention time of a goldfish. He can stop in the middle of a fight to do something else, or he can simply decide he's bored and leave. He's not really a fighter anyway. He tends to create chaos and then let everyone else deal with the consequences of his actions.

Swapfell Papyrus - Oh, he can fight if he wants to. But he hates it. He doesn't like to fight, he's not good at it and it's tiring him a lot as his magic got damaged with his addictions. If he can, he prefers to talk or divert his opponents with terrible pranks until they give up.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - His magic is defensive, not offensive. He can protect himself really well, to the point that when he's fully hiding behind a protective spell, you can't reach him. However, he can't really attack as he deals low damages and if he ever runs out of magic, the best thing he can do is run for his life.

Outertale Sans - Like Coffee, his magic is defensive, and he's even a healer actually. He's good at supporting people in fights, but he's not a fighter. He prefers to stay in the back and help rather than fighting directly.

Dancefell Papyrus - The best he can do is slap people hard. He's not a fighter. He uses his magic in his everyday life to, like, hold the camera while he's doing a Tik Tok. But if you really want a fight, he can punch once or twice pretty good.

Underswap Papyrus - Nah, man. He's a pacifist. He has the basics he learned in school in his childhood but that's all. He can defend himself if he's attacked, more or less, but he's really not good at attacking. He prefers to flee or, if he can't flee, pass out on the floor hopefully looking dead enough for his attacker to leave him alone. He's basically an opossum.

Dancetale Sans & Papyrus - They don't really have attacks like the others. They have magic boosts that help them to control their breath and energy so they can last long in a dancing contest. But that's pretty much it lol. They're not fighters, at all.

Dancefell Sans - Not only he doesn't have magic to attack or defend himself, but he's also a coward lol. If someone attacks him, he pushes a random guy in front of his attacker and runs for his life.

Horrorswap Papyrus - He doesn't know how to fight and he has no will to fight anyone. Even when he's attacked, his defense bullets are usually ineffective in stopping anything. He prefers to hide or flee and waits for the fight to stop.

Farmtale Papyrus - If you look his way for too long he might cry honestly. He's way too anxious to get in a fight and he hates hurting people (or getting hurt by the way, he's not really resistant to pain).

[sexhaver]

hey I have an ungraded Alpha Chaos Orb I got from a blind egg machine in the 90s. how do I get it graded and what's the best move for me with this thing? should I sell it, or is it going to continue to acquire value?

ohhhhh man that's a Spicy Meatball. first step would be getting ahold of a jeweler's loupe and doing some basic at-home checks for whether or not it's fake. the most common is the Green Dot Test where you look at the green dot on the back of the card:

there are also some other tests you can do but the efficacy of those can vary depending on the set the card is from (i.e. sometimes legit cards can still fail); r/mtgfinance is very helpful with walking you through the specifics of these

once you determine it's not an obvious fake, the next step would be getting it graded. the gold standards here are Beckett and PSA. picking which one to use is a subject of great debate; generally PSA is preferred by Pokemon collectors and stores in Japan, whereas Beckett is preferred by MTG whales (i.e. your target audience). PSA is more lenient on specifically the centering of the card though so it might be worth sending it into them depending on how that looks. also before sending the card in to any service, get multiple high-quality scans of the front and back in case a dispute arises. both Beckett and PSA are wayyyy more reputable than that card service i posted about a few days back that just declares their customers' cards fake and then steals them, but when dealing with something this expensive it pays to be cautious. i would also recommend insuring the package you mail it to them in

once you get a grade, you can decide how to proceed from there. Chaos Orb specifically is banned in basically everything so it really only has value as a collectable, which means you can probably just leave it in the plastic "slab" you'll get it back in. on the plus side, it has a LOT of value as a collectable. i don't have a finger on the pulse of alpha card prices but you're looking at multiple thousands of dollars minimum. however, you are going to run into some issues because 1. you're someone with no sale history selling a really rare and expensive card and 2. there are so few Alpha Chaos Orbs floating around that there aren't really enough sales to pin down a market price, but not so few sales that you want to go through an auction house. you definitely do not want to sell to a physical LGS (local game store) because they are not going to beat the best offer you can find online (they mostly have the edge when selling in bulk). your best bets here are probably either ebay or this facebook group, but bear in mind that ebay takes some percentage of the sale (i think 14%?) and tends to side with the buyer unconditionally if a dispute arises. if you take the facebook route, DO NOT ACCEPT OFFERS FROM PEOPLE SLIDING INTO YOUR DMS. THEY ARE LOWBALLING YOU.

im answering this one publicly so people can chime in if they have any other advice they want to share, but in any case, your first step here is to get your hands on a jeweler's loupe

[explodingquails]

BG3 Origin Characters and the Florence & the Machine Songs that remind me of them

I gave in and am sharing this list now. Potentially long post below.

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

Astarion

Between Two Lungs

And my running feet could fly Each breath screaming "We are all too young to die" ...

Gone are the days of begging, the days of theft No more gasping for a breath The air has filled me head-to-toe And I can see the ground far below I have this breath and I hold it tight And I keep it in my chest with all my might

Gale

Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)

*for best listening experience please substitute Midas for Mystra in your head

The looking glass, so shiny and new How quickly the glamour fades I start spinning, slipping out of time Was that the wrong pill to take? ...

This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Karlach

Seven Devils

Seven devils all around me Seven devils in my house See, they were there when I woke up this morning I'll be dead before the day is done ...

They can keep me out 'Til I tear the walls 'Til I save your heart And to take your soul And what has been done Cannot be undone

Lae'zel

Queen of Peace

*my favorite F&TM song ever for my favorite origin character :)

Like the stars chase the sun Over the glowing hill, I will conquer Blood is running deep Some things never sleep Suddenly I'm overcome Dissolving like the setting sun Like a boat into oblivion 'Cause you're driving me away Now you have me on the run The damage is already done Come on, is this what you want? 'Cause you're driving me away

Shadowheart

Which Witch

*this is just the universal song for religiously traumatized characters

And it's my whole heart Weighed and measured inside And it's an old scar Trying to bleach it out And it's my whole heart Deemed and delivered a crime I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out ...

And it's my whole heart While tried and tested, it's mine And it's my whole heart Trying to reach it out And it's my whole heart Burned but not buried this time I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

Wyll

Shake it Out

And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back And given half the chance would I take any of it back? It's a fine romance, but it's left me so undone It's always darkest before the dawn And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat 'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me Looking for heaven, for the devil in me  But what the hell, I'm gonna let it happen to me, yeah

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

And that's all! I might do a second part for some none-origin characters if I find the inspiration. Thank you for bearing with me if you made it this far :)

[coffe-book-club]

i love you so 𓍢ִ໋🍂₊˚୨୧⋆｡

info: toxic tom kaulitz x sweet fem! reader

summary: not all that glitters is gold.

disclaimers: toxic relationship, bullying, mention of anal sex and blood, love bombing, handling, emotional dependence.

with this one-shot i'm absolutely not saying that tom kaulitz is a bad person, this is a figment of my imagination.

a month has passed. at first tom he seemed like the sweetest and most loving guy ever, he always wanted to carry my backpack, he always wanted to go to my favorite coffee shop, to get beagles with avocado and scrambled egg inside. always showed up at my door with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, to then prepare a dessert and then cuddle on the sofa watching gilmore girls, or simply spending the afternoon making love. write me love letters... in short he seemed like the perfect guy. but when we decided to let me get engaged again... he became the toxic and bad guy he always was again, as if he had transformed.

i wanted to give tom one more chance, because i still loved him. but he hasn't changed at all and will destroy everything that i build in this month. he made me believe that he was sweet and loving, while he was just manipulating and brainwashing me to have power over me again. my biggest mistake was to believe that he could really change.

he made me believe that he loved me, so that i would fall for him again. and this is the ultimate proof that he will never change. every time i give him a chance, he will break my heart once again.

i have always worked very hard at school, always taking a lot of notes during lessons and studying a lot at home and doing the homework assigned by the teachers. wanting to go to a good university, always getting the highest grades in the class, the professors and the dean always rewarded me in some way. but the only thing that has always mattered to me is making my parents proud and every time I show them my tests or go to parent and teacher interviews, they always come home with a twinkle in the eyes.

i work very hard in order to achieve my dream of studying at the best university in the country. i want to be able to make my parents proud too. and as my grades are among the highest of my class, my parents support me with everything. they want their daughter to be successful and also see how hard i work for it. i spend long hours, learning at home on my own, just to be successful because i know that it will make my parents proud. i want to achieve this dream of mine, at all costs, even if it means sacrificing much of my time and life.

after a long session of angry sex, where tom put me in every possible and imaginable position and with as many sex toys. now i'm lying on my stomach, with my legs still shaking. while tom is lying on his back, smoking a joint. while we are still naked, while with his free hand he continues to spank me. i observe his well-defined body. his beautiful face and his chest, his big cock, still perfectly hard and erect... “uhm... i feel so so good and satisfied. but i didn't even think that anal sex would hurt so much the first time”

“shut up! you are disgusting and no one cares about what you want or what you feel, fuck” i'm still lying on my stomach and tom is lying next to me. the bed is covered in my blood and sweat, and i can feel how much of an absolute failure i am. he looks at me with disgust and i remember the feelings i had only a few hours ago. i feel so ashamed of myself.

i feel a shooting pain in my chest, at the height of my poor heart. now too broken. numerous tears form on my eyes at his mean and cruel words.

i turn my face away, so i can watch the gray sky, from my window next to my bed. my sheets are slightly stained with blood and cum. afterwards i will have to wash them well by hand and then put them in the washing machine. “i'm so sorry”

“you should be sorry. you are the worst mistake of my life!” he still looks at me with disgust. he doesn't care that my heart is broken and that i feel so bad right now. he doesn't care that he completely destroyed me again, without any reason at all. he doesn't care about me or my feelings, he never has and never will. “you really thought i loved you and changed? you can only disappoint me” he says to me in a hateful way.

“but... but it's you who have returned to me, not i to you” my long hair falls on my white sheets with little blue flowers, while tears roll down my chubby cheeks slightly red from the long sex session. the sadness persists in my poor heart, now too broken and destroyed. from the person with whom i'm unfortunately still madly in love.

he chuckles in a cold way and shakes his head slightly. “tou always believed every word i said and believed in every lie that i told you. you always went back to me. it wasn't me who returned to you” he smiles at me, but his smile turns into a cold and hateful expression when he says the following words.

“i could never love you, you useless hoe” he just wanted to break me, to get me back to him, so he could destroy my self-esteem and confidence once again. i close my eyes, letting my salty tears roll down my cheeks, not saying a single word. i had given him my heart right away. i had given him all my love and sweetness, thinking that he could love me too. but i was wrong. i close my eyes and the tears continue to roll down my cheeks. i'm so sad right now and i feel so broken. he doesn't care at all what he's saying and how he's hurting me. “you are useless, you can't do a single thing! you are not good for anything at all”

the words hurt me deeply. and i think about how i always tried to make him happy, but it was never enough for him. i sniffle, then get out of bed and sit down with difficulty. my butt hurts really bad, but the pain in my heart almost makes me forget the pain of the long anal sex session. i bring my hands closer to my cheeks, to try to dry them. under her expectant gaze and his cold heart.

“you are so stupid! you have wasted everything i have said to you. and that little brain of yours will never be able to change. you are a stupid ho and will always be one” he says to me, his expression not showing a single emotion. i hear his cruel words, which only break my heart more. i still remember how he said he loved me and now i feel so stupid, because i believe his words again. i didn't learn a thing from the last months.

i look down, observing my sheet where in some places it is stained with blood and others with cum. saying nothing, remaining silent and heartbroken. all my attempts to make him happy and loved always went up in smoke. my treatments have never been of any use, as well as my love for him.

he smiles at me again and kisses my forehead, while my tears roll down my cheeks and my butt hurts so badly that i can't even stay still anymore. “it's always your fault. you are the reason for all the bad things that happen to you” he strokes my hair gently and still gives him that loving look. my biggest mistake was to give him another chance. “i only wanted the best for you, but you always ruined everything...” he says to me, with such a calm and loving tone in his voice. he kisses my forehead softly, stroking my hair. trying to manipulate me further, trying to make me believe that it's only my fault. “i'm... i'm so sorry”

i answer him with a trembling and extremely sad voice, continuing to look at my sheets, which until a few hours ago were clean and fragrant. i just want him to hold me in his arms, kissing my head, caressing me with love. telling me that everything is fine and that he apologizes for his mean words and for breaking my heart. but i know that will never happen and that i will always have to apologize.

“oh, my lovely sweetheart...” he strokes my hair again and then caresses my face gently, while he looks into my eyes. “i'm so sorry, that i said the things i just said to you. i shouldn't have. you are the sweetest, most caring and loving person i have ever met. i don't deserve someone like you...” he tries to manipulate me once again. and it works perfectly. “please forgive me, my sweet angel” i move closer to his warm body, resting my cheek on his shoulder. wrapping my arms around his waist, sobbing over and over again. knowing deep in my heart, everything he's telling me, he doesn't mean it.

now i'm back where i always end up when i'm with him. i'm broken and i cry and he comforts me. he gives me the love and affection i so desperately need right now, but which he will take away from me again within a few days or a few hours. “shhh, everything will be fine, y/n” he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair gently, while i cry in his arms.

small sobs leave my lips, as tears roll down my cheeks and lightly wet his shoulder. you hold him tighter to my body, seeking that warmth of love that i desperately need. in need of his love, which i will soon no longer receive, because it is a matter of moment. for those few minutes or hours, i can feel loved again. he gives me that affection and that warmth that i crave so much. i'm in each others arms again and nothing could make me happier right now. “how much i love you...” he whispers softly, while i hold onto him even tighter. i know that this feeling i have right now won't last long, but i don't care about that right now. all that matters right now is that i feel happy, loved and appreciated again. i miss him so much and this is the proof that i still love him.

i bring my lips close to his neck, kissing him softly and with love. “i love you so much, my little moon” i speak to him softly, sobbing from time to time, tears still streaming down my face, crying in his arms. “please stop crying, my baby. i don't like seeing you so sad. you don't deserve to be sad...” he looks at me with the sweetest expression imaginable. he strokes my hair again and kisses my cheek, while he tries to convince me that he loves you once again.

“i'm so sorry for my earlier mean comments...” he says to me, smiling in a loving way, while i still cry in his arms...

hii 💌 how are you? these days i'm more at work, than at home or with my friends. in my old profile 'i love you so' there was a mini-fic, so i think i'll publish the other parts here too ☺️ next week i will publish more headcanons, especially on georg listing and gustav schäfer, because they deserve a lot of love too. i apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, but english is not my native language. xoxo flo.

[cottonkhaleesi]

@bookbunny9

Absolutely.

You ever have someone rave over a yarn and internalise it until it becomes your “gold standard” before you’ve even tried it out? That’s what happened to me with malabrigo. I was told it was the softest, the most beautiful; expensive because it was the best.

So I bought two skeins. Sure, they’re nice looking, and sure, the yarn itself is very even.

But whilst doing this project I’ve found the dyeing is only surface deep; the project is dark blue but as soon as one splits a strand, (as one is likely to do accidentally whilst cabling) a shock of white breaks through. This can be a feature, but also if this is the result of tea kettle dyeing, then I’m not impressed.

Secondly, whilst knitting just one (unsuccessful) sock, I’ve discovered three breakages. These are sudden, held together by a single minuscule thread, and don’t look like natural breakages, they look very clean cut, like someone went to cut the yarn here but did not do a thorough job.

All in all, I’ve used softer, I’ve found prettier, and for cheaper.

Malabrigo rant over, now I want to be positive and ask y’all about your tested and true gold standard yarns? What are your absolute favourites to work with and why? What makes them the best? What are their outstanding features?

I guess I’ll go first:

King Cole riot. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you want something with a halo that is also a gradient yarn, can go in the washing machine and tumble dryer on low heats, has wool content for extra warmth, and don’t mind single ply, you want riot.

The gradients are super fantastic, they say it’s a dk but it runs slightly thin (maybe more a 6 ply in reality) and it also comes in chunky. The halo is short and soft and fuzzy, and I have to stop myself from using riot for everything.

[joleneghoul]

This is going to be less of an essay and more of a disorganized infodump where I just ramble about my favorite character Rip has a relationship with and that's Jeff Smith.

I actually find Jeff to be more important to Rip's entire story and character background than Booster. There will also be some mentions of Bonnie because the Rip, Jeff & Bonnie dynamic is pretty important.

Though partially that is because the erasure of Jeff is what has made Rip such a boring character to read within post 90s Booster Gold stuff.

Jeff Smith is probably one of my favorite characters nobody really knows about and comics forgot about (until recently, but I'll get to that).

To sum it up quickly, Jeff is Rip Hunter's partner in the broad sense of the term. He was Rip's mechanic, his best friend, his scientific other half, and even once a cowboy (howdy).

More under the cut because this info-dump got long!

Jeff was Rip's partner from Rip's first ever appearance in showcase #20 and stuck with him onward to the 90s. While the stories had Rip's name on them, Rip and Jeff were postured as more of a duo than otherwise.

Bonnie and her brother Corky were along for the story but not as front and center as Jeff and Rip, hell even the story starts with Rip telling them to stay home while him and Jeff test their time machine by going on a jaunt to the prehistoric together.

The time sphere was first and foremost a creation of Jeff and Rip's scientific and mechanical prowess put together. I find it more interesting this way than if Rip were some sort of solo genius.

Later within the Rip Hunter series from the 60s-70s Jeff Still plays the role of Rip's partner, even saving Rip's life multiple times over. A characteristic that is strengthened as time goes on with Jeff is that he is the more calculated and thoughtful one of the pair. This remains the case in the Time Masters 1991 series.

Jeff, much like everyone gets a redesign for this series and a bit more heft to his character motives/personality. This is a series (while not good) that follows a linear story line instead of a collection of adventures so it was needed. I honestly only reread issues of this series for Jeff because I like the way him and Rip's relationship is handled here, as it strengthens the fact that pushing others away can only hurt everyone involved and being alone can be worse than your fears.

He is introduced not only as Rip's partner but his best friend. According to Rip, Jeff is one of his only close friends on account of his obsessive personality. A lot of Rip's own characterization in my opinion mirrors someone who has OCD. His obsession becoming stopping what he saw the future became while in Booster Gold vol 1. Hell...Will Magnus tells him he's paranoid.

Specifically I think the relationship Rip has to his paranoia and fears vs the relationships he has with others is really interesting. This, while comes up with Rip's relationship to Bonnie, is shown mostly with his connection to Jeff.

Jeff throughout the series is the one to break through to Rip even as he pushes others away at everyone's expense. This is shown in the start when Jeff breaks Rip out of spiraling overthinking, bringing him back with his logical thinking. Then all the way to the end when Jeff comes up with the idea of how to fix the time sphere, while Rip was caught up in his own paranoia and had at that point pushed everyone else away or caused them to leave him.

ALSO Jeff has to tell Rip to trust BOOSTER, who in retrospect is Rip's father. I just find that interesting.

Now, I'm going to be talking about subtext which is just how I interpreted things not saying they were intentional but it's just what I picked up on. Also I have a lot to say about how Bonnie is treated I really hate it because she's so disrespected when shes supposed to be equals to Rip but- a rant for another time ig.

The relationship between Jeff, Bonnie, and Rip (and Cave but not really tbh) are at the forefront of the interpersonal drama. It's worth mentioning that every scene Bonnie has romantically with a man (like Jeff or Cave) is mirrored immediately with Jeff and Rip. Specifically usually when Bonnie struggling with her own relationships vs when Jeff and Rip are coming together.

There is when Jeff shows up to Rip's office in a green trench coat (not pictured in this panel bc he took it off) and sits on Rip's desk to tell him he'll be his partner. Then within the same issue Bonnie in her green trench coat trying to seduce Cave (who is HER scientific partner) by getting on his desk- but then getting rejected.

Then again when Jeff chooses to leave Bonnie (in bed) to go be with Rip VS the end of that issue when Rip solemnly makes the choice to leave Jeff (in bed) to go chase his own hubris. (later we see Bonnie make the choice to steal the time sphere and go live in the future and make her own life teaching people post nuclear war, thank god she didn't end up with any of these men after all that)

Also side note- When Jeff and Rip go to ancient Atlantis together that's practically the first time in issues we see either of them really happy since like, issue 2. The only thing that tips Rip off is once again when someone brings up his paranoia. Also they get these gay earrings.

Anyways at the end because Rip ends up alone, without Jeff who was his only close friend, Rip realizes that time changes everything and to not be so worried about the literal end of the world- and that hopefully in time even he can change and be a better person to others.

....WHICH I feel is totally ignored and thrown away later on when Rip returns as Boosters son and Jeff was erased from the picture entirely (Bonnie still managed some appearances in other media but Jeff did not- not even in lot so I've heard..which is odd because that was inspired BY time masters). Rip became characterized as the lone mysterious savant who always has a plan (or can easily figure one out).

Despite the reader knowing his secret that he is Booster's son, we do not tend to get to see much of their family relationship since Rip is more shown as a mentor than anything else. Otherwise Rip is used as a narrative device for stories to bring in a little time travel spice if Booster or that one treadmill isn't available.

I actually find the more interesting Booster and Rip interactions being the ones where Rip is shown to be overwhelmed, in the wrong, or confused instead of the "guy who knows everything". Sadly we don't get to see this often.

Jeff after over 30 years has come back to comics but not in a way I really like, he just doesn't feel like himself at all but neither does any of the time masters. We haven't seen him much yet but I'm just not excited because the reason we have this "loner" characterization of Rip still is because of the same writer who's bringing them back- and yet again its a case of "Rip is running around alone" "ah that's just Rip". Like I thought we went over why that's bad for him LOL.

Anyways I guess the moral of this infodump/rant is this:

FUN FACT TIME:

Jeff and Rip met at MIT where they were both top of their classes!

He is as smart as Rip who is classified officially as a super-genius.

Jeff according to the DC ttrpg books is as wealthy as Ted Kord was when he was still apart of Kord industries.

He also apparently has connections to the Metal Men and Magnus still while Rip does not.

[mdhwrites]

Idea Pitch: Splitting Sun's Fantasy World

The sun has a hole in it. From there, all shall face reckoning.

This world has had a growing problem for two generations now. The black spots that were always visible in the sun have been coalescing and minorly eclipsing it. However, that has not damaged its rays. It has made them harsher, stronger. Then they all jumped into one spot in the middle and like how the edges of a sun that is covered by the moon are actually some of the most dangerous for your eyes, this caused the rays to only become more extreme.

This shifted the balance of power in the world. A race of nomadic, peaceful and somewhat preyed upon people made of crystals suddenly found themselves making cities as they realized they could use their familiarity with light magics and crystal to create wards and containers for the harshness, helping shield other towns and people from this catastrophe. In two generations, they have gone from the oppressed to the strongest kingdom in the land. Their new prince must soon deal with that fact as letters and gifts from other kingdoms seek influence over the young kingdom and the wrong choice could easily lead to an invasion and crushing of his still peaceful people.

The forests could only be saved in small pockets though, forcing the once proud and territorial elves to go underground, using their nature magic to now force open caves, tunnels and more. Their desperation grew so wild as to make them start taking the elementals of the planet, that had always roamed wild and free, and trapping them. Torturing them. Enslaving them. The elements were always theirs to conquer after all, like they made the trees bow to their whims. They still do not have a voice and so there are no cries to go on deaf, long ears. From an opulent, traditional society, they have become more brutalist and fatalistically progressive, with many of the new generations believing that if they do not embrace technology, they will vanish altogether. The princess of the elves is known to be one of the few who use a technology called a Ripper, a specialized glove that allows one to reach into the very core of an elemental, destroying anything that was before to simply be an energy source for the machine that it will become.

The only race known to the others who was not either erased by this change or forced to radically change were the dragons. They already lived in grand, fortified towns that rose up like mountains and flaunted their wealth, giving them places to hide from the sun and valuables to trade for the crystals that would further protect them. They are also known for arrogance and hubris so their styles match their walls with fine drapery, gold and more. At least, for those who cannot match those who are the best of the kingdom. Dragons like the crown princess who tower over any man in her court and could fight an entire squad on her own wear barely nothing, deciding to show off their superiority in breeding rather than worry about hiding themselves. Unfortunately for her, she is not the heir to the throne, the blessing of white scales having seemingly skipped her, even if her blue scales still make her a noble fire dragon. Instead, her baby brother is the one to be next in line and many worry the severe, warrior-like nature of the princess may lead her to thoughts a noble dragon should never have, even if it fits how their decadence has only survived through pillaging and subjugation of others. That is a tradition too being tested though as the world has taken many of whom they would have once upon a time hurt for those goods and made their easiest target now an ally they must capitulate with.

It is a fracturing point for the world and a time where many are hoping in another decade or two, they may have the chance to take it all. To be the one kingdom in place. To bring together a split world. Whether that be by brokering a peace that will see them all happy, bending the entire planet to themselves because all will need to do so to survive, or simply by conquest now that the rules have been laid out, all are waiting with baited breath as peace settles.

It's simply a shame that much like the growing tumult of the elementals who grow fiercer by the day, who even seem to be coalescing more into more than simply free spirits, something else has already put into place a plan. A whole planet? No. That would be ambitious.

But they have already proven that they can take from the greatest source of light there is so if they could just find a way to open a crack, splitting the fractured lights of the crystalline people would be no trouble, wouldn't it? And then maybe they would have a place to truly call home besides the shadows.

====

This actually stems from a CRPG concept I once upon a time wanted to do. It will never be that, even if I still would love to learn a bit of game programming someday, but I have been humming it over as potentially an audience driven story. Each chapter people would get the chance to pick something to help drive where the plot may go. It wouldn't by any means be the first time I've done such a thing but it would potentially be the most ambitious due to scale and scope.

Which also probably means it will never see the light of day. It's been a real rough time for me lately and my brain is constricting on itself about how I haven't finished a project in over a year and a half now. I know that can just be how my brain is sometimes but it makes how ambitious my brain so often it is more painful than aspirational. *sigh* So with this rattling in my head again, I decided to share some. As always, please feel free to ask questions on the idea. I would love to answer them and if this inspired you then that'd be amazing too!

Regardless, have a good day and see you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[kuroo-suno]

Hey, random question but ik you read some shoujo manga. Do you have any recommendations?

omg i sure do!! sorry if this is long i just really love shoujo ( ‘́⌣’̀) completed series are at the top and currently releasing are after, and i wrote a little about each one (though it's based on memory so it's not exactly detailed).

hopefully at least one of these is enjoyable! i've read loads more but these are some that stick out ♥

Completed:

Chorokute Kawaii Kimi ga Suki

☆ Intimidating, misunderstood sweetheart ML and an endearingly goofy and super-weak-to-romantic-gestures FL

Horimiya

☆ one of my all-time favourites UGH. FL and ML are both completely different outside of school but in vastly different ways and thanks to a chance encounter, they meet and discover that perhaps they both have a little more to offer than what's on the surface ♥♥♥♥

Kanojo ga Kawaisugite Ubaenai

☆ demon ML comes to the human world disguised as a high school student to complete a test to become the next demon lord and the FL has never had friends before and couldn't read any romantic (or warning) signs if they were printed on the inside of her eyelids. ML is also sooo weird and awkward and provides a lot of comic relief

Kawaisugiru Danshi ga Ouchi de Matteimasu

☆ FL is a star employee, but an absolute scrub once she gets home so she offers her friend/ML to live with her rent-free in exchange for his cooking and cleaning services (and to keep her from getting involved with losers)

Living no Matsunaga-san

☆ FL moves into her uncle's boarding house while her parents care for her grandmother and her roommates are quite the array of individuals, including the older ML who shows he cares by being a crabby little nag-machine

Natsuaki-kun wa Kyou mo Kokuhaku Shitai

☆ Aloof and seemingly disinterested ML (main character) pines HARD for the world's cutest girl and is desperately trying to confess

Tsubaki-chou Lonely Planet

☆ i wish i could read this for the first time again tbh. FL gets a job as a live-in housekeeper for a famous author (ML) to help pay back her dad's debts. ML is icy and distant, but FL has a heart of gold fr. This series made me laugh and cry numerous times and reading the last chapter was so bittersweet because i loved getting a conclusion but didn't want it to end yk? (from the same author as hirunaka no ryuusei and uruwashi no yoi no tsuki so no surprise it's 10/10)

Ongoing:

Daifuku-chan to Ouji-sama

☆ Small-town girl moves to the city for university (and to find new love). One of her boarding house roommates is a 10/10 but their first meeting doesn't exactly leave the best impression~

Hikaeme ni Itte mo, Kore wa Ai

☆ one of my all-time favourites?? Super school-focused, perpetually stressed FL comes across the battered and bruised delinquent ML in the rain and patches him up. He makes sure to repay the favour (insert saluting emoji here)

Kaoru Hana wa Rin to Saku

☆ modern day romeo/juliet situation except no one dies! ML and FL are from rival schools (lower-class, bad grades vs wealthy scholars) and are perceived very differently. ML is soft and sweet despite his appearance and encounters FL as a customer at his family's cake shop. She treats him differently than others have (read: like a human person) and oooooo it's so sugary!!

Super no Ura de Yani Suu Futari *technically seinen but........

☆ 45 y/o ML's only joys in life are going to the convenience store to talk to his favourite bubbly cashier and smoking out back with an edgy young woman who he's definitely more familiar with than he realizes..........

Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki

☆ FL presents much less feminine than her peers earning her the nickname of "prince" and she's always treated as such. But then she meets ML who is a fellow """prince""" and he sees her for who she is and appreciates her beauty both inside and out~

Yamaguchi-kun wa Warukunai

☆ FL has an unfortunate run-in with a creep on the train en route to her first day of high school and is saved by her delinquent classmate (ML). he's in everyone's bad books but the more she learns about him, the more determined she gets to change his reputation

Yubisaki to Renren

☆ FL is a deaf and lovely, but sheltered, college student and has a chance encounter with the ML, who is much more worldly and adventurous than she is annnnd cue tears fr

i almost added about 600 000 000 000 more but i'll hold back for now LOL if you have any recs or want to talk shoujo, please don't hesitate to reach out!!

[evita-shelby]

Love's a state of mind

Robert Fischer x Eva Smith

Gif by @quelmarth

Cw: mentions of murder

Her totem is a gold Mexican peso from the year 1896 with a gunshot near the middle. For extra measure, she keeps her family dead as they are in real life to keep herself from attacking his subconscious.

If the peso is in perfect condition, she is dreaming.

If the peso is rusty as hell and with a 9 millimeter hole, she is awake.

Tonight, as she plays cat and mouse with Robert Fischer, it is as if it had come fresh from the mint.

“And what will you do now that you’ve caught me, Mr. Fischer?” she asks the billionaire beside her.

She’s managed to make it impossible for him to catch up to her until now, made the sidewalk just a hint longer, had her taxicab change when he tried to get into it and even changed the city they were in until they were in Los Angeles, where he runs his father’s empire from.

She created this dream and yet his subconscious pays her no notice and takes the changes she makes as if they had been made by him.

His projections do not attack as he has trained them to do ---and it won’t unless she tells it to.

Robert believed that because he knows he’s dreaming his subconscious hasn’t her killed twenty times over the moment he found himself chasing after her through twenty different cities.

Eva has a unique ability that allows her to create dreams and make you believe she is part of your subconscious. In fact, she has also been able to take over dreams created by others with it.

Not a single extraction has been successful on her, something Eames had said as he and Yusuf put her to the test in Morocco.

“I thought I’d never catch you, Miss. Smith.” Robert is winded and yet looking as perfect as he wants the world to think he is.

In this dream he is not under anyone’s shadow, his insecurities have been shoved aside as he plays her games and best of all, he believes he is the one in control.

Well, he was until Eva decides enough is enough.

It had been done as a whim, a couple of drinks, a few suggestions to break the monotony of his life and he had agreed to share a dream for a night.

When they woke up, they’d be in the same hotel room, wishing to make what they saw a reality and he is asking himself where Eva had been his entire life.

It was not a true inception, but it works the same without needing three levels of dreaming.

The witch heightened his desire in the real world by getting him to play her games in what he thinks is a field rigged in his favor.

You can do anything in a dream.

You could kill, fuck and live a life you want in it.

Fischer wastes no time in giving his all fantasies a try.

He has her on the elevator that is suddenly empty and full, on his desk, on the conference table and when he realizes he can do more, he grows bolder.

Places he’d been before, never been to and then suddenly, time slowed down.

Robert started with a perfect date, then a perfect relationship culminating with a family dinner hosted by his dead mother where his father loves him, and they adore her just as much as he does.

Eva panics when she sees herself in a designer wedding dress being walked down the aisle by her dead father. In the next second, she fashions a machine gun out of thin air and guns down her groom and their guests just as his snipers riddle her with holes.

“That was an experience.” she said as he looked embarrassed at how it went.

He looks at his wallet and she looks at her fucked up coin to remind themselves they are back in the real world.

His wallet doesn’t have five one-hundred-dollar bills – it is six hundred with the last hundred divided in twenties, a ten and a fifty---- nor the photograph of him and his father.

Robert has, aside from his own totem, an ultramodern militarized subconscious.

Eva has a similar defense, although hers is more about horror and the supernatural because she went through a goth phase as a teenager (and was still goth deep down)and now the macihuatli or horse-faced woman comes and drowns those who try to perform extractions or resurrect her dead family.

No extractor has been able to get past her yet, nor forger can replicate her, and she’s broken about every dreamcade she’s ever taken part in thanks to her secret weapon.

Had she not murdered her lover, he would’ve discovered a Mexican folk monster behind him about to drown him in a puddle.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.” He apologized thinking it was his fault, and she dismissed it because it was hers.

Still Fischer looks like he’s ready to run, but she needs him to stay.

Eva hates herself for this, but the only way to stop Fischer Morrow from absorbing Riley International's energy companies was through him.

She needs him to want her and make her Mrs. Eva Fischer. Hence why she suggested dream sharing when they hit it off at a boring conference in New York.

“Don’t be sorry, besides, I enjoyed it.” The woman gave him a reassuring smile while removing the monitors that attached them to the dream sharing device. Somehow, she never breaks her own PASIV device.

His eyes are even more striking up close, so expressive, so clear and so blue. Eva isn’t even sure a paint that color exists.

Adds to the beauty of him, she thinks.

So insecure, so desperate for his father’s approval, and oh so beautiful even in his most pathetically vulnerable state. “And I have to say, your defenses are the best I have ever seen. I can’t even control mine as well as you do with yours, Bobby.”

You couldn’t even tell by looking at him that he had a subconscious military so efficient that it could conquer a mid-sized country in days. In the second she fired the machine gun; his snipers had given her more holes than a wheel of swiss cheese.

Eva had been more turned on by his militarized mind defenses than his delicious appearance.

And because her praise is genuine, he hesitates as he makes up an excuse to leave and return to his suite.

Robert Fischer is halfway to the elevator when he turns on his heel and returns to her room. “Last person who called me Bobby was my mother.”

“Nice woman, made me feel so welcome I almost thought it was real.” Eva comments as she offers him a chance to make those fantasies real in many ways.

“Is that why you killed me, Evita? It became too real for you.” He asks using the nickname her father had used.

“If it starts to feel like a better reality, neither of us would ever want to wake up. You’ve heard about what happened to that woman the Frenchmen told us about, went batshit insane after her husband woke her up.” she answered, returning his vulnerability with hers.

And it works, Robert stays, and Eva shoves her guilt for using him by making some of those fantasies a reality.

By morning, Eva’s checking out of the hotel on the arm of Maurice Fischer’s heir, by the end of the year, she is Mrs. Fischer.

The guilt never leaves, even when she builds a real life with him and comes to love him more than anyone else in the world.

“If you want me to go with you all you have to do is ask.” She says as they parted ways at the private airport.

“No, he said I must go alone. Uncle Peter said it’s best if I do as he says just this once.” Rob shook his head and she wished he had a bit more of a backbone.

Those two could tell him to jump and he’d ask how high. A wonder they didn’t get him to break up with her after he introduced her as his girlfriend and future wife.

“Gonna dream of you every night I’m away, baby.” Rob assured her with an almost pained smile.

“Call me when you get to Sydney, if you need me there, all you need to do is ask, Bobby.” Eva reminded her husband before grabbing him from his suspenders and kissing him goodbye.

[staticl0ve]

Dollhouse - Chap 4 - Connor x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 3.7k Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, PnV, mild breeding kink, so mild Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU.

Chap 4 - Beauty and the Machine*

Tonight was a night for celebration, a party to toast the man of the year: Elijah Kamski and his company’s fifth anniversary. Heels clacked over marble flooring as guests of a gala passed through white Grecian pillars. Above the crowds was a domed ceiling with painted scenes and gold moulding, framing an equally impressive sparkling chandelier. Mouthwatering appetizers wafted by in the arms of waitstaff dressed in black and white formal. People clamored around tiny tables covered in delicate, glittery cloth. A string quartet played a whimsical classical song as champagne flutes clinked.

“Cheers!” the party goers all cried out in unison.

You joined them silently, raising your glass to the air and then to your lips. The champagne was a good vintage, the sharp tang fizzing across your tongue. Hidden away from the crowds, you were happily situated on a balcony above the noise. A railing supported most of your weight while you nursed your drink, the best part of tonight. Your beaded gown felt tight, too revealing in places and your heels taller than you’d liked.

You wanted to go home.

Too much of the evening was spent catering to the egos of guests who were enchanted by your presence. All of the more than eager to use you as stepping stone to Elijah.

The attention was endless.

Some tore you apart with their eyes, scrutinizing every inch of your appearance, only to go soft when they realized the woman in Elijah’s arms was his sister. Their smiles were polite, the light never quite reaching their eyes.

“I didn’t know Kamski had a sister!”

“Stepsister,” you corrected them.

It was one guest after the other, some more familiar than they should be. You caught the eye of a pair of older millionaires seeking to expand their family empire.

“Oh, you pretty little thing, you know we’ve got a son…”

Sisyphus wouldn’t survive an evening in your shoes.

“Hey, so hear me out. Me and my buddy have this app…”

“Excuse me, I need to go powder my nose,” you interrupted.

Did anyone still call it that in this decade?

The gentleman you were speaking to blinked and politely dipped his head. “Of course…!”

It was a wonder you managed to sneak up the grand staircase and duck behind a curtain to your hiding spot, too tired and drunk to humor anyone else. The curtain behind you rustled and your nose caught the scent of Elijah’s favorite cologne long before he spoke. He always had an uncanny ability to locate you no matter where you ran off to.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

“S’fine,” you shrugged.

He leaned over the railing, a set of icy blue eyes scanning the lively party below. Someone had the idea to start a conga line, their laughter and drunken slurring of the words “conga, conga, conga” drowning out the delicate string instruments.

“They won’t bite,” he said while stealing your champagne flute away.

“Hey—!”

He fixed a playful look at you, adding a small shake of his head. You could hear the inaudible “tut-tut.”

“Go,” he coaxed. “Have some fun, try the conga line. Live a little.”

“I did,” you stubbornly resisted. “I got bored when one guy started talking about his fleet of yachts.”

You tried to snatch your glass back but Elijah was quick, rotating his wrist to catch it in his other arm.

“Just let me know when you want to go home,” you huffed.

He hummed and you followed his gaze to a pair of models down below. One waved and the other winked.

“Don’t wait for me. There’s a car outside whenever you’re ready to go,” he said.

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished behind the curtains, the gentle swishing the only evidence that he even came to see you.

Oh.

He took your champagne, too.

Reluctantly, you descended the ornate staircase and dodged dancing guests to the find the shortest path to a waitstaff serving alcohol. You tripped on a wet spot, or someone’s dress, either way, the world was suddenly spinning faster than you could keep up with it.

A hand grasped your wrist, tugging you gracefully into a firm chest. A navy suited arm braced your shoulders and you followed the pressed collar of his suit past his white linen shirt and black tie to a…freckled face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Hello, Prince Charming.

“Yes…” You think you said it or mouthed it. The floor and ceiling tilted and bent in your vision as you scanned the decorative paintings…the gold trim…the chandelier. You could see yourself lost in the sea of swirling dancers as if you were still standing at the balcony. He spoke again and your focus warped back to his shirt and tie.

“Do you dance?” he inquired with a smile.

You scoffed, suddenly more sober than you were earlier.

“Actually, n—”

It was a mistake to look up, finding yourself lost in a pair of honey brown eyes. There was no malice behind them, just curiosity and a glint of amusement.

“…Ngh—yeah. Sure. Why not?” you answered.

A light tune, Rêverie by Claude Debussy, began. He took a cue from the changing music and led you across the dance floor. One of his hands slipped behind your back while the other held your arm out to guide you in a series of turns. Your hips were attached by a pair of magnets, flowing left, right, forwards, and backwards. His cologne was present and not overwhelming, a light masculine scent with a sharp metallic tinge. A man made of metal or a fake tie clip?

You spun with him, the pace of the song picking up fast enough that you could feel a breeze tickle your neck. When you took a step back, he followed, pushing his leg flush to your hips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t feel him somewhere on your skin, especially when his palm on began inching down from your shoulders. Strong, firm fingers pressed into your skin, mapping out one bump to the next along your spine.

“That’s funny,” he said while dipping you.

You gasped at the unexpected loss of your center of gravity, gripping his arms for balance. He held you like you weighed nothing and brushed his nose over yours, his exhale heating your lips as he laughed.

“W-What’s so funny?” you stammered.

“Have you seen the tree they’ve brought in?”

His head shifted and you turned to find a large cherry tree had made a home in the center of the room. Guests stepped in perfect time to the music, forming a swirling formation right below the falling foliage.

“How did that get here?“ you gasped.

He smiled, all sunshine and dripping with honey. “You should look more closely at it when you have a chance.”

Your face twisted in confusion. This man was crazy and yet…you glanced back at the tree and it looked closer or bigger than than it was before. Dancers parted, revealing a sizable burl in the otherwise perfect bark. The corners of his mouth dipped as warm fingers caressed your cheek.

“When you dream…it’s not always this pleasant, is it?” he asked.

You breathed out his name, even though he had not given it yet.

“No harm will come to you as long as I am here,” he promised while bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Sleep.”

-

What were dreams if not a mosaic of memories and the subconscious working together to create mind bending, nonlinear narratives? On nights when you could not rest, were the sheep you counted covered in wool and prancing over your pillow? Or were they powered by electricity, spinning around like figurines in a carousel?

When you woke, it was one of those coming back into your body experiences where you could only feel one limb at a time. First, it was the arm trapped beneath your pillow, then the other which was tangled in someone else’s limbs. Connor’s hand loosely gripped yours against your chest, the synthetic skin warmer than usual and faintly buzzing. A firm chest covered your back, his weight a welcome comfort.

Through android instinct or sheer luck, he sensed something amiss, choosing to greet you by laying kisses down the column of your neck. A leg pressed between yours, the android tangling himself around you like a blanket. He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your middle as his other threaded into your hair.

“Bad dream?” he asked.

Through the thick and groggy haze of waking up, you noticed it instantly, a change in the endlessly evolving machine. Connor did not seem to tire, always sounding alert and refreshed no matter the circumstance. Today was different, his voice was lower, rough and scratchy like his vocals cords were warming up.

You brought the back of your hand to rub your eyes. “No, at least…I don’t think so. I tend to forget my dreams when I wake up.”

Rolling away from the sunny side of the bed, you snuggled yourself back into his embrace. Your palm pressed flat on his chest. A light vibration from his hardware rumbled like a cat’s purr. Thoughtlessly, you leaned in to peck soft kisses down the notch between his collarbones and to the center of his chest where the buzzing was it’s strongest. His breath hitched when you flicked your tongue in a swirl over the skin. It was nice seeing a machine stutter from such a small act. Everything you did to Connor seemed to bring him some form of easy pleasure. Regardless of his purpose, it still delighted you to know you could provide something in return.

“I think it was a nice dream,” you concluded and rose back up to kiss his lips.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied while nuzzling his face to yours. One part of his anatomy was eager enter the conversation, prodding at your stomach in a not so subtle reminder of its existence. You made a noise caught between a laugh and a gasp, your brain still shaking off the fog of dreamland.

He sprung on you regardless, covering your body with his. Your back sunk into the mattress, hair twisting beneath your head. The kiss was hot, wet and sloppy, his lips claiming yours with a thrilling desperation. Your mouths were a stage, your tongues wrestling to and fro. You cheated, nipping his tongue gently, a victory short lived when he pulled away in surprise. The softness was gone, honed by a sharp, never ending hunger brimming over the pupils of his eyes.

“May I have you?” he pleaded in a tone that implied he’d been patiently waiting all night. As if you needed more convincing, his fingers whispered between your thighs, tracing faint lines up your skin to the bundle of nerves below.

Your legs were falling apart before you could get the words out.

“Yes…yes, Connor.”

The bedsheets tugged upwards with him as he rose up to slot his hips between your legs. His knees spread out, pressing against the meat of your thighs, pushing them further apart. You couldn’t hold back a gasp when he bucked his hips, the cold tip of his wet length gliding over your warm folds. Your moan was crushed between his mouth as he ground into you with whimpers of his own.

“S-so…good,” he slurred, already drunk on your warmth.

It was agonizing when he grazed your entrance, only to proceed to slip up past it, the blunt head of his cock teasing your swollen bud repeatedly. He continued moving in slow seesawing motions, the friction pulling a tight knot in your abdomen. A bow would snap if it held the same tension you had in your spine. You were more than ready, on the verge of begging.

Maybe Connor didn’t know that he needed to put it in.

“Connor,” you huffed out, biting your lip to fight a smile. Perhaps, you’d have to show him how the birds and the robot bees worked.

His eyes snapped to meet yours, the brown lost behind the squint of a guilty and self-satisfied smile.

“Preparation is important,” he answered sheepishly, completely ignoring how your hips canted to change the course of his next thrust. How were you expecting to outsmart machine precision? You writhed with a helpless moan.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, staying completely still above you. “I…I could do this forever.”

“Con…”

The rest of his name was cut off by his lips covering yours as he lined himself up to you, the tip of him nudging gently at your core. He almost entered you when his face pulled away with a gasp. Pink dusted over his cheeks as his hips hovered over yours. Two strong hands cradled your face on the pillow.

“I…I want to see you. When I…when…” he muttered, distracted and overwhelmed already.

You were a little worried actual sex might break him, but if you were being honest with yourself, you were in no better shape. Sweat beaded down your back as you wiggled beneath him to wrap your legs around his narrow waist. Your nails scraped into the back of his neck and while you couldn’t dent or break his skin, he got the message.

Taking the lead, he tilted his hips, easing himself slowly into you. His optics moved in tiny fluttery movements, like a camera tracking a target as he studied your face. It would have been unnerving if it weren’t for the loud, open mouthed moan that erupted from his lips. He was barely in you, the tip of him stretching and holding you open. Even with all of his preparation, it was a slow process. His hips pulled back, coating himself in more of your slick and diving further in a second attempt.

“You’re s-so tight…” he whined as the blue on his head shifted red.

Your hands threaded through his soft hair, kneading until his eyes pinched shut.

“You’re doing so well,” you spoke, pressing a kiss to his pink cheeks as he melted, moaning softly and pushing deeper.

He propped himself up onto his elbows, tilting his head down to watch him disappear inch by inch until your hips fused together. The act alone seemed to have wiped him out as his head fell to your chest.

“I…you…you feel so…s—“ he said through a wall of static, his biocomponents working overtime, clicking and whirring in his chest.

You palmed his cheek, thumb drawing circles on synthetic flesh as bits of it turned white to your touch. “I know…you feel amazing, Connor.”

He was still whining, panting and cycling air while his forehead rested firmly against your sweaty chest. Slowly, he eased out and back in, mouth agape as you let him claim you again and again. Once your calves tightened around his waist, he got a little braver.

One second you were mostly on the mattress and the next, his arms wrapped around your lower back to lift you off the bed. Your knees pressed to your chest and all you could do was place your arms over his shoulders and cling to him. He moved with a calculated intensity, keeping you on the edge with cycles of deep, angled thrusts. You didn’t have to worry about damaging his ears as you cried out loudly from underneath him. He experimented with slower and deeper thrusts, discovering that he could savor the heat of your core, the way you pulsed and molded to him. His eyes fluttered and rolled as he finally found the adjective he’d been struggling find.

“P-perfect,” he gasped. “You feel…perfect.”

He held you open like a man with all the carnal and animalistic intention of breeding a willing female. No matter how human he seemed, Connor never failed to remind you that he didn’t exist on a food chain. Mechanical noises emitted from his voice box, sharp and clear even while his mouth was shut. The flesh tone vanished from his hands, smooth, white plastic digging into your spine. He did not sweat nor did the momentum of his hips falter. He was a machine moving with a purpose.

And you loved it.

“Fuck, Connor!”

You were close and he could sense it. The familiar but still alien sensation of his rubbery padded fingers working it’s way between your legs. A deep, guttural sound ripped out of his mouth—possessive and almost demanding.

“Let me…let me see it. I want to see it,” he breathed harshly.

At some point, his hair had fallen over his eyes, blackened orbs glinting between strands of brown hair with an unwavering, singular focus.

Ah, to be the sole affection, the apple of an android’s eye.

The covers draped over his shoulders like a dark cape, rustling down his back with every harsh thrust. You were overheating, writhing with your eyes shut in a sauna of your own sweat. Connor was having none of it, his voice spoke without interference, clear enough to feel like you could hear it in your head.

“Look at me,” he said slowly and calmly, stretching the three words to convey the depths of his devotion.

You tried, bleary eyed while drawing in short gasps of air. A pressure on your back pushed your chest flush with his. His lower jaw trembled as he silently mouthed words he wasn’t sure he could say.

“I…I want to remember this…in case…I don’t see you again,” he stammered.

With the high functioning part of your mind positively fucked out of the universe, you weren’t sure what prompted you to reply, but you did.

“You w-will….Ah—you will!”

It seemed to mollify him, a sweet smile dimpling his cheeks. He laid a kiss on your lips, his grin still present throughout.

“Then…cum for me. Please.”

You could feel him all around you, a cage of plastic that knew your body better than an old lover. Initially, his presence was as persistent and inconvenient as the falling snow, blanketing you with no end in sight. Long gone was his formality and your doubts about a machine companion. He was an oddity, awkward at times and beguiling when he didn’t mean to be. Connor was the only one of his kind, beckoning…begging, pleading for a companion. From one lonely soul to another, it would be cruel to deny him.

You heard him ask again, a string of pleas from a gasping, blushing face. He had propped himself on an elbow, leaning most of his weight to one side in order to cup the back of your head. Your muscles knotted around him and you think that might be what would break him as his LED bled red once again.

“Yes, let me—” he groaned, driving his hips in more wildly. “Let me feel it.”

With a shudder, your peak came and lingered in a plateau of weightlessness until Connor nuzzled his hips to yours and with a nip at your shoulder, he followed suit. He was an incoherent whimpering mess, hot exhaust burning onto your skin as he twitched and throbbed. There was a horrid mess between your thighs as the android’s hips never really stilled, too busy watching in awe as his release dripped out and plugged back in with a forward thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, already recovered before you were. You moaned softly, still wound up from earlier. A proud smirk tilted up his lips. “I may have been a little excited. You must be drenched.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you replied dryly with a grin of your own.

You brought your hands to tuck a curl that dangled over his eyes. His brows dipped and a small pinch pushed them together as his smile faded, the gentle intimacy replaced with a bittersweet energy. The blankets had slipped off and the cool air blew over your damp skin. He sat up so your legs could collapse onto the bed and came back to press his chest against yours. A weak moan left your lips as he slid back into you with little resistance, keeping still for the moment. Surprisingly, nothing ached, except for the little strings tugging at your heart.

“Just…one more,” he asked.

Your palm pushed at his chest and his head only tilted at you in confusion. 

“Lie back,” you coaxed.

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled over, somehow managing to not slip out of you. You took your time, slowly grinding your hips down as he shuddered and moaned, letting you use him for your end. He seemed blissed out, head buried in a soft pillow, eyes and mouth half opened. The new angle was somehow deeper and hitting a new sweet spot as you rocked against him.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand beside his head, holding most of your weight on it and with your other hand, stroked his cock as it left your core. You hovered over him, pulling him out to the tip while loosely twisting your wrist, knowing full well he could grip your hips and change the pace. Instead, his hands roamed up your sides, gently kneading your breasts. He rolled and pinched a nipple, smirking slightly when you whimpered and clenched around him. As crowded as it was down there, he managed to wrestle his hand through to stroke your clit.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes like he knew something you didn’t.

“C-Connor! That’s not f-fair!” you cried out as his fingers buzzed. Your legs wobbled, collapsing back onto him until he was buried to the hilt. His other arm came to stroke your back, or hold you in place, either way, he wasn’t moving from beneath you. His fingers wouldn’t let up, circling your nerves as the intensity of the vibrations grew.

“Oh—f-fuck!” you cried out, fisting the sheets until your knuckles went white.

What you didn’t realize was that his delicate sensors could be tuned to different sensitivity levels, and with your next cry, as another climax washed over you, he could finish from that alone. He looked marginally apologetic when you recovered.

“Was that satisfactory?” he asked sweetly. 

Your nails bit into his thighs and your eyes rolled into another dimension. He probably didn’t mean to sound so cheeky.

“Yes, it was,” you replied. You gently stroked up his legs, thumb catching on all the divots in his body—the dip of his hip bones and the valleys between sculpted muscle. Your head came down to rest on his chest with the side effect of shifting your hips over his. His cock twitched in interest and you wondered if he was related to a certain rabbit branded battery.

“Please,” Connor urged, already in the act of rolling you over onto your back.

“One more and then we shower,” you laughed.

“One more,” he repeated.

One last tumble in the sheets before the day went on and Connor’s destiny would be out of your hands, left to the unknown.

It felt too soon for goodbyes.

[ewingstan]

Shitty cape idea #1: Framework

Can force people and items in a small radius to act according to well-defined explanatory or predictive conceptual frameworks, regardless of accuracy, provided that she understands it well. Can throw inertia of projectiles off by making them subject to Aristotelian physics, perform impossible chemical reactions by imposing medieval alchemy laws onto compounds, or even temporarily alter individuals’ behavior and personality by making them act according to their zodiac sign.

Former psychologist-in-training, triggered after being laughed out of her thesis defense (a spirited argument for the efficacy of Freudian psychoanalytical techniques against modern criticisms). Works best with established conceptual frameworks that are or have been believed by and developed by many: she rarely gets any results attempting to follow obscure magical systems, but regularly creates amazing (if temporary) effects by imposing ancient natural philosophy, religious doctrine, pop psychology, or even popular fiction onto the world around her. Her need to have a firm understanding of the frameworks in question has led to her becoming an expert in a variety of outdated, unaccredited, or otherwise not scientifically-respected belief systems. Cursed to always be right about how things work, but only by changing how they work, separating her from any chance of real understanding she coveted.

Villain, often mistaken for a tinker due to utilizing a variety of da Vinci-esque war machines that shouldn’t physically work. Constantly captured, stays out of the birdcage by acting as a lie detector to authorities whenever she’s in custody. She originally did this by imposing the karma system from her beloved Maggie Holt series onto prisoners undergoing interrogation, until she realized it was simpler and more reliable to impose a framework where polygraph tests work onto polygraphs. Killed in Gold Morning before anyone thought to use her to fake a working fusion reactor.

[atths--twice]

October 31, 2023

It's Halloween! And also the birthday of a very special little girl.

October 29, 2023

“Oh, these look amazing, Violet,” Scully said as she looked at the costumes their neighbor Violet had been furiously sewing to have them finished before Halloween. “I can’t thank you enough for helping us out. I am not a seamstress by any means.” 

“Not to fabric perhaps,” Violet said with a smile. “But you are a doctor who has stitched skin and that is very impressive.” 

“I’ll remember that when I chastise myself for not being able to work a sewing machine,” Scully laughed and Violet joined with a chuckle of her own. “Rachel will love these little patches you’ve added to Jacob’s costume and this Dorothy dress for Elizabeth is too perfect. Such a better feel than the costumes in the store.” 

“And not a fire hazard,” Violet added and Scully nodded, her eyes wide. 

“And I love the star tulle overlay on Faith’s dress. I know she’ll be scrambling to try it on and test out how it spins, as soon as she comes inside,” Scully said and Violet hummed in appreciation. 

They had all come over to Violet and Denis’s house after dinner, to both take a walk and pick up the costumes Violet had been working on for a few weeks. Mulder was outside with Faith and Denis, looking for the wooden animals Denis had carved years ago and had scattered throughout the yard, so Faith could greet them and see how they were doing. Bella ran along beside them, sniffing for rabbits that were too clever to be out and waiting to be chased by an often clumsy black dog. 

“You all will be the best looking group, I’m sure of it. You might run into others dressed similarly, but not as well done as you,” Violet said and Scully agreed. “Oh… and I made a little something extra for Faith.” 

“You did? That was kind of you, but you didn’t have to go to any extra trouble.”

“Oh, it wasn’t any trouble at all. I enjoyed doing it. I don’t have much that fills my days and I definitely don’t have little ones here to spoil, or too close by, so I was happy to do it. Besides, it’s her birthday gift. Well, it’s… part of it, because we do have something else for her, so it’s just because I can.” She nodded at Scully matter of factly and Scully laughed. 

“I’m sure that whatever it is, she will love it. Plus whatever else you got her.” 

“It’s-”

“Hi, Miss Violet,” Faith said as the door squeaked open and she walked inside, followed by the men. “Mister Denis put new animals in the yard, Mama. A purple porcupine and a red wolf. They are very pretty.” 

“You’ll have to show me when we leave,” Scully said, placing a hand on Faith’s head and smoothing her hair back. “Do you want to see your costume, my love? Miss Violet did such a good job sewing it for you.”

“Yes!” Faith exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. 

Violet laughed and nodded, picking the pink dress out of the pile of costumes and showing it to Faith. Her mouth dropped open as she stepped forward to touch it. 

“It’s beautiful,” Faith whispered, running her finger over the gold and silver stars on the tulle. “It’s so pretty. I love it. It’s like a… magic fairy princess queen dress. I love it. Can I wear it right now?”

“Of course,” Violet said, smiling at her and Scully took Faith into the bathroom to try on the dress. 

“I LOVE IT!!” Faith yelled, spinning back into the room a few minutes later, her arms above her head. “It’s so spinny! Watch me, Daddy!” 

She spun around and around, all of the adults watching her and smiling. When she stopped, she wobbled slightly, her eyes needing a second to focus. 

“So, I take it you like it then?” Denis asked teasingly and she nodded, spinning around again. 

“You forgot part of the costume,” Violet said and Faith stopped spinning, dizzy and a little out of breath. “You need your wand and crown, Miss Faith.” 

Faith ran over to Violet and let her place the silver crown made from felt, which fit perfectly, onto her head. She then handed Faith the silver star wand that she had made from sequined material. 

“There. Now you’re ready,” Violet said and Faith grinned as she looked at her, holding the wand and waving it slowly. 

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Faith asked in a lilted voice and they all laughed as she spun around again, waving her wand in the air. 

When she had quieted and stopped spinning, Violet told her she had an extra surprise for her. 

“What is it?” Faith asked, setting her wand down and smiling at Violet. 

“I’ll go get it. Stay right there.”

“Okay,” Faith said, looking at Scully. “Miss Violet has a surprise for me. I wonder what it is.” 

“I guess we’ll find out in a minute,” Scully said, curious herself what it could be. 

“Okay,” Violet said, coming into the room with something on a hanger that was covered by a white plastic bag. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to your beautiful dress before Halloween, I thought you might like a different costume to wear to school tomorrow. I know you like these because we’ve talked about them before. So…” Violet took the bag off the hanger and Faith and Scully both gasped. 

It was a mermaid costume with a shiny teal and pink ombre long sleeved top. It blended into a long shiny skirt with scalloped scales in shades of pastel blues and pinks. The tail was made of the same material, but it fell in full folds, assuring the spinny effect Faith would love.  

“It’s so pretty,” Faith whispered, coming closer to touch it. “It’s shiny, but not like a light. Like… like happiness.” 

“Happiness?” Violet asked, looking at Scully who shrugged, not understanding what exactly she meant. 

“Yeah,” Faith nodded. “Like how you feel when you’re happy.” She smiled and nodded again. “It makes me feel happy and shiny.” 

“Well,” Violet said, taking it from the hanger. “I don’t think any praise will ever compare to that, Miss Faith. Would you like to try it on?” 

And she did, coming out and spinning once again, the tail of the costume flying out around her knees. It landed just above her ankles, the perfect length for her to avoid tripping. 

“I can wear the mermaid costume to school tomorrow?” Faith asked as they left, thanking Violet again and waving goodbye as they walked down the driveway. 

“You sure can, baby,” Mulder said, lifting her up and putting her onto his shoulders. “You’re going to be a beautiful mermaid.” 

“Yes, I will,” Faith said, calling goodbye and blowing kisses to Jafadine, the life-sized giraffe that stood in Violet and Denis’s yard, and Mulder laughed. 

_____________

October 31st

“You’re sure this will wash off easily?” Mulder asked as Scully began to apply silver face makeup onto him, to transform him into the Tin Man. 

She stood between his legs as he sat on the closed toilet seat in the upstairs bathroom at Skinner and Rachel’s house, carefully spreading the makeup evenly. 

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we’re both in trouble, aren’t we?” she asked, stepping back to look at him and then glance at herself in the mirror, her own face painted green. 

“I think you look good,” he stated, grabbing onto the backs of her thighs and pulling her a little closer to him. 

“Absolutely not,” she said, leaning back and shifting out of his grasp as Faith and the twins ran down the hallway, laughing about something. 

“Absolutely not about what?” he asked, looking up with innocent eyes, but she was not falling for that this time. 

“If you get up to any funny business, I’ll have to reapply this makeup and it took a long time to get it right. It’s finally dry now and I do not want to start over.” 

“Mmm, why is it so sexy hearing that while your face is so green?” he asked, looping his arms around her waist. 

“Mulder,” she warned, shaking her head. 

“One kiss. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t even mess up your makeup.” 

“Yours will merge with mine and it will be a mess.” 

“We don’t create messes when we merge, only beauty,” he said as Faith shouted for Jacob and he laughed hysterically. 

“Mulder,” Scully laughed, her arms going around his neck, unable to resist him. 

“One kiss.” 

“One. Gentle and easy. I’m serious.” 

“Tin Man’s honor,” he said, holding up one hand and then placing it over his heart. “Or may I be struck down by rust.” She laughed again and he grinned up at her, silver paint on half his face. He pursed his lips and she began to lower her head to meet them when a loud scoff sounded at the bathroom door. 

“Jesus Christ, you two. You’re supposed to be getting ready,” Skinner said gruffly and they both turned their heads to look at him. He sighed loudly and Scully grinned. 

“We are.” 

“Bullshit. Stop all that,” he said, gesturing to their current positions. “Get ready. We’re on a schedule.” 

“Walter?” Rachel called from down the hall. “Can you bring the kids in here? I’m nearly done and you still need to get ready too.” 

“Yes, hon. I’m on my way,” he called back, turning to look in her direction. Looking back at them, he raised his eyebrows and then walked away, calling for Elizabeth and Jacob. 

“Ohhh... Dad got mad,” Mulder whispered and Scully chuckled as she quickly kissed him and then stepped back. “Hey! That’s not fair. I wasn’t ready.” 

“Tough shit. We gotta get a move on.” 

“Mama, can I get ready now?” Faith asked, walking into the bathroom wearing her mermaid costume and a purple sash with Birthday Girl written in rainbow letters. “Oh, Daddy! You look silly.” She giggled as she came closer, stepping between them as Scully continued putting the silver makeup on him. “Does it feel funny?” 

“No. It’s just kinda cold,” he replied. 

“Shh. No talking,” Scully said. “Or you’ll get creases. I’m nearly done.” 

A few minutes later, Faith giggling as she sang the Tin Man’s song, tapping out the beat on Mulder’s legs, Scully was finished. 

“There. Now let it dry for a bit and then get your costume on,” she said, wiping her hands on the paper towels she had brought into the bathroom. “Your turn, my love.” She smiled at Faith and she grinned. 

“I’m very excited,” Faith said and Scully laughed as Mulder stood up to look at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Well,” he said, turning his head from left to right. “It looks odd on its own, but once I’ve got the costume on, it will work. Thanks, love.” He put his hand out and Scully high fived him before he left the room. 

“Let’s get you up here on the counter. I’ll curl your hair and then we’ll put a little bit of makeup on you.” 

“But not like yours or daddy’s, right?” Faith asked, looking at Scully in the mirror, her eyes slightly worried. 

“No, love,” Scully laughed, testing the curling iron she had plugged in earlier. “Not like ours. Just a little bit of blush and maybe mascara and then we’ll put on your dress.” 

“Okay, Mama. I’m ready.” 

________________

Thirty minutes later, everyone was downstairs, laughing and commenting on how they all looked. 

“Unco Fox,” Jacob laughed, tapping Mulder’s leg. “Wobot.” 

“No,” Faith said, shaking her head. “He’s a tin man, Jakey. He’s made of silver tin. It will be rusty if he doesn’t use his oil can.” 

Mulder stopped walking and made squeaking sounds which caused Faith and Jacob to giggle. 

“Oilllll caaaaan,” he said through clenched teeth. 

Faith and Jacob laughed as they took turns using the small can that came with his costume to pretend to oil him up. 

“Oh… oh, thank you. I can move again,” he said, moving his jaw and opening and closing his mouth. He rotated his arms and then stuck his hands out to both of them. Shaking their hands simultaneously, he crossed them back and forth, causing them to laugh again.  

Scully turned her attention from them to Skinner and had to fight back laughter of her own. 

They had planned their Wizard of Oz costumes nearly two months ago, discussing who would be which character. When the decisions were final, Skinner had grumbled a bit, but Scully had also seen the smile tugging at his lips. 

She had known who he would be, but seeing him in his costume as the Cowardly Lion was nearly too much. 

“Okay!” Rachel shouted with a smile, adjusting the strings on the bonnet of her Lullaby League ballerina costume. “We’re going to take some pictures in the backyard and then we’ll head out to go trick-or-treating. We all look so good. I absolutely love these costumes. This was such a great idea. Let me get the phone set up out there.” 

They all trooped out to the backyard, grabbing the props for their costumes on the way. Bella, who had been brought along as Mulder, Scully, and Faith would be spending the night, ran up to give them all some licks, her tail wagging excitedly. She was placed inside the house for a moment so she would not be in the way as everyone then got together for the picture. 

Mulder, the Tin Man, stood beside Scully, the Wicked Witch of the West, with Faith, Glinda the Good Witch, in front of them. Skinner, the Cowardly Lion, had Elizabeth, Dorothy Gale, and Jacob, the Scarecrow, in front of him. Vivian, Rachel’s mother, who had arrived only minutes before, stood next to him. She was dressed as the tornado that had brought Dorothy to Oz, complete with the images Dorothy had seen inside the tornado stuck to her outfit. 

Scully smiled as she looked at all of them, even as she felt an unexpected lump forming in her throat. She felt Mulder place his hand on the small of her back and she nodded, letting out a deep breath. 

“Good?” he asked in a whisper and she nodded again. 

“Okay!” Rachel shouted, smoothing her pink ballerina costume. “We’ve got ten seconds. Get ready!” She pushed the timer and rushed over, squeezing in between her mom and Skinner. “Everyone say Pizza!”

“Pizza!” they all shouted and the phone flashed down from ten to one, snapping a burst of photos. 

“Let me check it, but I’m sure we got a good one in the bunch,” Rachel said, walking toward the phone. 

A few more pictures were taken and then they all left the house with their assortment of props, coffee tumblers full of wine, and Bella in tow. 

Many families were already out, the children shouting and running from house to house. Scully smiled as Faith and the twins walked up the first driveway, calling out trick or treat before the door was even open. 

People stopped them as they continued through the neighborhood, telling them how much they loved their costumes. 

When the twins began to slow down and lose interest, they walked back to the house, Faith dancing and spinning ahead of them. 

Not bothering to change out of their costumes as they still had one last celebration to attend to, they gathered in the dining room. 

The pink ombré cake that had been placed onto the table after dinner was lit with a golden number five candle and the lights were turned out. 

Happy birthday was sung to Faith, her blue eyes shining in the light of the flame, as she looked at each of them in turn, in her sparkly pink Glinda dress and silver crown, and she grinned.