#tack's photo adventure

[t-a-c]

And for those who'd prefer to view everything from all three days in one single album

[trashmouth-richie]

master list

eddie! x fem reader

summary: 3 years later; happy birthday

I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.

trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕

Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls.  A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx. 

  Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.  

  Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor. 

  Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.

  Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents. 

  Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.

  Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given. 

  The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.

  You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.  

  Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job. 

  The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it. 

  A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.

  One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture. 

  A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.

  Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip. 

  One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea. 

  A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day. 

  A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.

  And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house. 

  Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house. 

  The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.

  “Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!” 

  You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish  into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme. 

  “Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her. 

  She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room. 

  Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.” 

  laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand. 

  Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?” 

  Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off. 

  Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will. 

  Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?” 

  —-

  Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms. 

  Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it. 

  The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance. 

  A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!” 

  “Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.” 

  She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.” 

  A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.

  “Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking. 

  Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy. 

  She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight. 

 “Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.” 

  The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back. 

  “Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.” 

  —

  Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet. 

  Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together. 

  It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect. 

  And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck. 

  He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go. 

  But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed. 

  It was  heaven. 

  Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.  

  “Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!” 

  “Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.

  Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.” 

  Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket. 

  The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.

  “And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”

  “Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?” 

  “Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.” 

  Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.” 

  “Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.” 

  -

  “..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.” 

  Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him. 

  “fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?” 

  Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw. 

  “had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.” 

  D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”

  Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?” 

  D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango. 

  Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn. 

  A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him. 

  A time before you were officially his. 

  Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content. 

  “We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.” 

  “Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.” 

  Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.

-

  The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches. 

  The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked. 

  “The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?” 

  D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”

  Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow. 

  “alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.” 

  D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.” 

  “Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”

  Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin. 

  Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door. 

  His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful. 

  Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples. 

  He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts. 

  “Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.” 

  Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well. 

  “Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!” 

  It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all. 

  “It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back  and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne. 

  He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before  in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”

  Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.” 

  “Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?” 

  Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’” 

  Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well. 

  Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad  y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.” 

  you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you. 

  “Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy  waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.

  “Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”

  Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy. 

  You waited your turn patiently. 

  Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head. 

  Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl.  Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal. 

  He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh. 

  “Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck. 

  “Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall. 

  Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?” 

  You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe. 

  Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there. 

  “Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents. 

  “You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”

  “Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”

  Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.” 

  “Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.” 

  His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.” 

  You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.” 

  —

  “Don’t peek!” 

  “Oh c’mon!” 

  “Eddie.” 

  “Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.” 

  “Such a brat...”

  “Don’t act surprised babe.” 

  “Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.” 

  Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back. 

  Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.” 

  “You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?” 

  Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.” 

  Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box. 

  It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends. 

  But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present. 

  “It's about time you saw them live, yeah?” 

  Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic. 

  “Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?” 

  And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then. 

  but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him. 

  The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said. 

  “Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.” 

  Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.

  Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.

   “Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit

so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

  Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.

  You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten. 

  But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good. 

  He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?” 

  “Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare  shoulder,  “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.” 

  “Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?” 

  Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls. 

  “Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”

  “Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching. 

  You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs. 

  You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better. 

  He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious. 

He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.” 

  Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting. 

  It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.

  He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit.  ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels. 

  Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his. 

  Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter. 

  He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.

  Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great. 

  And you wouldn’t change a thing.

🤧

🏷️

@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l

[my-plastic-life]

Happy holidays, everyone! Anyone seen the Storytime with Deadpool feature at Disneyland/Disney California Adventure? No? Then by all means go look it up because it's hysterical. :D Just click here to see one!

I have several mini trees, all needing decorated, and I was inspired by the Storytime holiday special to create a scene using my new 1/6 scale Hot Toys Deadpool figure. I had a ton of fun with this, and I'm super happy with how it turned out. It started with the red tree with black baubles and it just escalated from there. Even the merc with a mouth enjoys this special time of year! So sit back and enjoy some classic holiday tales told by SantaPool! I had a Ken size Santa suit and I was able to get the jacket on, and the hat is from a Barbie. The pants wouldn't go over the gun holders, but hey, I'm not complaining! The last photos are the inspirational ones from the show at the parks. Almost all the props were made by me.

Who's ready for a holiday tale?

Yes, I painted the edges of the pages green to match the actual prop from the show. :D

"Look everyone! It's Loganeezer Scrooge!" :D Yes, I know, that's not the proper Wolverine - that figure doesn't come out until next year. Then I get to do this all over again LOL.

I think he loves the tree I made for him:

Who needs an elf on the shelf when you can have a merc on the woodwork? (It's actually a Funko Bitty Pop - this one comes with the chimichanga truck lol)

Not sure if he got that out of his own stocking or if he's supposed to put it in someone else's stocking, but he loves that unicorn!

Dogpool is ready to enjoy the story, too!

The scene! The tree was spray painted red and the little baubles and the garland were all spray painted black. The black star on top came from Amazon, and there are both red and white fairy lights (they're lit, but it's hard to tell in the photos).

The chair was 3D printed in red and wood, then I went over the red with a less vibrant shade to tone down the hue. And we can't forget the claw marks! I used a watercolor pencil to draw those on. :D

The picture above the fireplace is an exact replica of the one from the show. The red ornaments are pearl beads glued together, and the stockings came with various Barbies.

We have to have unicorns in the stockings! (I don't have a mini Dogpool or Deadpool figure/plush to put in there lol - hint to Zuru Mini Brands Disney Store!)

Presents under the tree were 3-D printed. The darker blue bows were painted, then we managed to get the file working right so we could print the file in two colors. :D The actual tree has unicorn and Wolverine ornaments, in addition to the black baubles, but since I don't have any of those, some extra presents (instead of just one) will balance it out. :D

Hubby made the tree skirt for me. Yes, it's the Deadpool logo, made out of felt. :D

I had this lamp in storage with the fireplace and didn't even know I had it LOL, it's the perfect size and was even already painted these perfect colors. I printed mini "stickers" and stuck them to the shade with sticky tack.

Closed version of the book:

Opened version of the book (it wasn't until today that I was able to see the actual doodles inside the real one, but I'm okay with this!):

Source photos from the show, including the stage, book, and doodles:

[b-afterhours]

AOS Neon: Gemini (oneshot) Part B

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debaucherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

author's note: PART TWO of the Honeymoon (oneshot). As always, thank you for reading! This is the last of it. However, this is a very long chapter and I will have to post this last bit in two parts, A & B. I will link them!

Gemini | PART B

January 1996 

The day before their planned induction, both Alma and Bill felt a little jittery and anxious. This was the last stretch and while it felt as if the day would never come, suddenly it felt too soon. In a way it was, the twin's real due date would have been in February rather than late January. 

Bill had just returned home from dropping Echo off at preschool and found Alma standing in the nursery, the atmosphere so calm and anticipatory. One wall had been painted a soft sage green and the other right across was a muted, dusty pink, accenting each other. Above each crib, positioned safely away from the windows, delicate mobiles spun slowly, their soft, plush polka-dotted mushrooms swaying gently. 

Alma stood with her hands on her hips, studying the room intently, double-checking their stock of diapers and swaddles. Her mocha-colored corduroy button-down layered over the body-con romper she wore emphasized her beautiful, pregnant form. Her gaze lingered on the framed sonogram profile photos that decorated the nook by the sleek rocking chair, feeling as if something was missing. She let out a soft sigh, her hand rubbing her round belly absentmindedly.

When she finally noticed Bill leaning against the door frame, watching her with a tender expression, she broke into a small smile. “Oh,” she said, waving him over. “You can help me, then.”

“With what?” he asked, stepping forward, curiously yet a little cautiously. Twice now he rearranged the furniture for Alma when she asked, and he put everything back the way it was both times when she didn’t like the configuration. 

Alma grimaced slightly, almost apologetic. “Their going-home outfits. I changed my mind... again.”

Bill couldn’t help but smile. Her indecisiveness had been a running theme lately, from outfit choices to the names they had finally agreed upon. Naming the twins had been an adventure in itself. Baby Girl would be Vida, a name that came naturally to both of them. They’d even toyed with the idea of calling her Viper at one point, but Vida just felt right. For Baby Boy, the name Lux, she remained on the fence about. She thought it looked too short, but Bill, who also picked the name Gunnar for his middle name, said that it would help fill it out. Alma didn’t know, though, until one day she suggested they should spell the word out completely, tacking the ‘E’ back on the end. That satisfied her, it would match his sister’s middle name Wilde in some way. But the part she liked about it most was that everyone in the family would have four-letter names then. 

Together, they stood over a drawer filled with baby clothes, sorting through tiny, soft outfits. Bill watched Alma carefully, helping her choose warm, matching clothes for the twins to wear home. He offered his opinion when she wavered, gently guiding her toward the decision she seemed to want but couldn’t quite make.

“I’m going to the shop for a little bit,” Bill said as they left the nursery and stepped into their bedroom. The overnight bags for Alma, Echo, and the twins were laid open on the bed, partially packed with essentials: underwear, socks, toothbrush, hairbrush, chapstick, and a few makeup items Alma had set aside.

“You know, I just want to make sure everything will be running smoothly. One last time. I won’t be long,” Bill explained. It was the last front he had to anxiously disappear to, because in New York Bianca warned him not to call her again about menial nonsense, knowing he had better things to worry about at home. 

“Do you know how fuckin’ crazy you sound asking me if the bar has straws right now,” Bianca balked on their last phone call. “Babe, Relax! You’re even making me nervy!”

Alma sighed, rubbing the small of her sore back. “Alright,” she drawled. Her eyes shifted to his own overnight bag, slouched over on the bench at the foot of the bed, mostly empty. “Did you finish packing your bag?” she asked, gesturing toward it.

Bill looked over at the half-empty leather duffle. “I’ll finish when I come ba—”

“I’ll just do it.” She quickly interjected. “I’m already busy doing the others. It’s not a problem.” 

He paused and then nodded appreciatively. “Okay. Thanks,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

“Please, don’t be gone long,” Alma whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest. Her hands drifted up, resting between his shoulder blades. “Everything at the shop is set. You know that, too.”

“I know, I know. I just have to,” he sighed in resignation to his anxieties. Though it wasn’t just his anxieties pulling at him with the twins on the way, it was the only place he had where he felt in control. He wanted to hold onto it a bit before facing the uncertainties of what tomorrow may bring. 

“I understand,” Alma said, her voice soft and warm. “Thank you for always making sure we're okay.” Her fingers lightly traced circles on his back, and for a moment, they simply held each other. Feeling the stillness and quiet ticking quickly away.

…

Alma walked out of the closet holding a pair of sweatpants, a zip-up hoodie, some shirts, and extra socks to pack in Bill’s bag when a sharp kick jabbed her ribs. She winced and pressed her fingers into her skin, trying to get the little foot to move. Lately, she had developed the habit of pushing back against the babies’ kicks, hoping they would stop, but they often pushed right back instead.

When she opened Bill’s leather duffle, all that was inside were pairs of clean underwear, one disposable razor, chapstick, a comb, and a fun-sized package of peanut M&Ms still lingering there from Halloween. 

Once she completed her task, she sat the bags by the bedroom door, any more than that, Bill wouldn’t have been happy that she was carrying them. She took some time to herself, turning on the radio system in the library, and letting the tunes from the college radio station play through the house. She stayed there a while, Bonita Applebum by A Tribe Called Quest began to play, her hands gripping the rail while she bent forward, doing a few hip stretches to relieve the pressure on them. She was in a deep, satisfying lunge when she felt a sharp, shooting pain in her crotch that made her suck air between her teeth. 

She sighed, defeated, as she slowly stood upright, feeling the pressure settle in her hips and lower back again. Cutting the radio off, she decided then, to just lay down for a bit, maybe take a nap too. However, passing the nursery, the corner nook made her take pause again. She stood in the door frame, staring at it once again. Something was missing, but she couldn’t quite figure what it was. They had everything, she decorated to her heart's content—everything was in its right place. Then it came to her. 

While in the office, she dug in the closet for a hammer and spare nails, and then she walked over to the gallery wall and plucked off the show box that housed the rosary urn her twin sibling's ashes were in. She didn’t believe in spirits, she didn’t believe there to be anything after this life either—there was a part of her being that hoped it wasn’t so after that fateful night. If there was, at least she knew Bill would be with her for their sin.

However, in some way, she believed in them. The dream of siblings, conjured by loneliness. A dream she sometimes wondered if it willed these twins growing inside her to be. That in all her wishing it had ricocheted. Even now, the idea of having twins didn’t quite make sense to her, especially when she had always heard it skipped a generation. Alma felt in some weird way, even from her own miraculous way in the world, she always seemed to be the exception. But that felt too self-important for her to really believe it.

Alma stood back after carefully placing the shadow box on the wall behind the rocking chair. She nodded to herself, finally satisfied with finding the missing piece. Though these incoming babies were hers and Bill’s alone, it felt right to have a space for Leo and Liliana in the nursery too, knowing they never had one. They did now, though.

A sudden craving led her to the fridge, where she dug out a cup of Greek yogurt and added honey, granola, and sliced strawberries. At her last appointment, the doctor had given her final weight, and she had been surprised it wasn’t higher, given how she’d been eating for the past six months. Before carrying her snack to the den, she saw one of the forest cats rolling around on a patch of the icy remnants from the foot of snow that blanketed their home on New Year's Day. She took a moment to fill the bowl they left on the patio for the pack of forest felines with cat kibble. The calico watched intently from the yard and skulked over to the patio to enjoy the food.

“Oh no…” Alma sighed, placing her hand on her hips. “They got you too,” she remarked when she noticed the cat was also pregnant. 

Finally inside, she sat down comfortably on the couch, catching a rerun episode of The Real World, and hummed in delight as she took the first hefty spoonful of her snack.

Meanwhile, Bill sat in the office of Sheisty Sound Records, looking over a job application Darby had left on the desk. As he set down his paper cup of coffee from the café down the street, he noticed his hand trembling. It was his fourth cup, and it was barely noon. He tried to shake off the jitteriness, flexing his fingers, and then glanced back at the employee schedule, scanning it for the hundredth time to make sure everything would run smoothly for the next two weeks.

A knock on the door frame made him look up. Darby stood there, leaning in with a curious expression. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Bill asked, straightening up in the office chair. Fatigue clung to him like a shadow. This past month, his night terrors had been relentless. Just last week, the night before Alma’s final doctor’s appointment, he had jolted awake screaming, still half-trapped in his nightmare. Alma had held him, gently telling him to wake up. The memory made him grimace. He hated the way it scared her. Taking sleeping pills hadn’t helped much either; they left him groggy and out of sync the next day.

“I just got off the phone with your uncle not too long ago,” Bill said when Darby stepped into the office and took a seat in front of the desk. 

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow. “Let me guess, he invited you to the annual charity gala happening in March?” 

“Yeah, you going?” 

“Maybe…” he shrugged, lacing his fingers on his lap. “Not to be a dick, but… what the hell are you doing here?”

Bill blinked his tired eyes. “Hm,” he pondered for a moment. “I just needed a distraction, I guess.” 

Darby nodded, sympathetically. “I feel you on that. You have a big day tomorrow, man!”

“I do, I do,” Bill replied, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. “I’m excited, but I don’t want to see Alma in… distress. I don’t like it. Actually, I hate it.”

“She’s not going natural again, is she?” Darby asked, his eyes widening.

“No,” Bill quickly reassured him, shaking his head emphatically. “No way. After Echo, she swore she’d never do that again.

“Good! I don’t blame her one bit. I’ll tell you something embarrassing if it’ll ease you some?”

“Sure.”

“When Jenny gave birth to Zo’, well—actually no. I don’t know. This might not ease you at all.” 

“What did you do? Faint?” 

“I wish it was that, but I threw up,” he winced, looking a bit regretful. 

“Threw up?” Bill smirked, amused. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not a wuss like that, but it just came up.” He explained, miming the act of vomiting. “My sweetheart of a wife looked at me with so much disgust, dude. She was pissed, she told the nurses to not mind me. I fuckin’ felt bad.” 

“Fuck,” Bill laughed. “It’s funny... But, yeah, I’m not sure if it made me feel better.” 

“Yeah, no,” Darby laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Lesson learned, though. Next time, I’m going on an empty stomach. I’m trying to catch up with you.”

“I’ll still be one ahead after your new kid comes,” he smirked.

“I’ll figure something out,” Darby chuckled. “Anyway, I really hope everything goes well tomorrow. And seriously, I think everything at the shop is good. Go home, man.”

Bill took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It slightly sucked that he was getting kicked out from another one of his establishments. “Yeah, I should. Oh,” he said, picking up the job application again. “Interview them,” he slid the resume toward Darby. “They seem decent.” 

“Sweet.” Darby smiled. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Bill replied, adjusting his jean jacket on his body as he stood up. They shared a quick bro handshake before Bill added, “Call me,” gesturing with his thumb and pinky jutting out his fist.

Darby smirked. “I know, but let’s be real—you’ll probably call me first,” he joked. “Best of luck.” 

“You too, Darb’. You too.” 

A short while later, Darby was enthusiastically talking to a customer about the discography of a lesser-known soul group he liked. At the cash register, the phone rang, and Donnie picked up.

“One second,” Donnie said into the receiver, before scanning the store for Darby. He reluctantly interrupted the lively discussion, tapping Darby on the shoulder. “Hey, sorry to cut in.”

Darby turned, excusing himself from the conversation. “What’s up?”

“It’s Alma,” Donnie said, holding out the phone.

“Oh? Uh, sorry,” Darby said to the customer, offering an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to take this call, but seriously, that record is a must-listen.” He stepped away, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Did Bill leave?” Alma’s voice came through, sounding a bit tense.

“He did—maybe about thirty minutes ago?”

“Did he say he was coming home?”

Darby hesitated. “Well, yeah, that’s what I told him to do. He’s probably almost there by now. Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. He’ll probably be here any minute then. Thanks, Darby.”

“Alright. Take care,” he replied, hearing the line click as Alma hung up.

Alma had been feeling rather relaxed on the couch when she begrudgingly stood to take her yogurt cup to the trash. She waddled over on achy joints, pushing the bin pedal with her bare foot and tossing it in. After placing her spoon in the washer, she turned to head back to her cozy spot on the couch for a nap when she felt an unexpected rush of warm liquid run down her legs. She groaned in disbelief, looking down, upset that she accidentally peed herself. 

Standing there in the growing puddle on the white tile, she reassessed her line of thinking. Her eyes widened in the realization that her water broke. A wave of panic surged through her, sending heat rushing up her neck.

“Oh, my fuck!” 

Alma closed her eyes, taking deep, steady breaths to center herself. She was fine. With Echo, she had panicked, rushing herself to the hospital in a flurry, only to be turned away because she wasn’t dilated enough. It sounded strange, but she didn’t know any better then and listened to what she was told. 

Carefully, she stepped out of the puddle, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter for stability. Her foot slipped as she shifted her weight, but she caught herself just in time, avoiding a fall.

“No, we’re not doing that today,” she said out loud when she got a hold of her footing. 

She took the time to grab the mop and clean the mess before calling the shop. When she dialed, she felt a sharp contraction and she braced herself. Donnie answered the phone, which irritated the hell out of her, especially as he kept saying ‘hello’ over the line because she couldn’t speak just yet. 

“Donnie, could you get Bill on the phone?” 

“I don’t know where he is?” 

Alma sighed loudly. “Put Darby on the phone then. Please,” she said, not wanting to be so rude. 

When Alma got off the line with Darby, she paused in the living room, anxiously staring out the front window, hoping Bill would pull up any moment. She reminded herself that they lived forty-five minutes away from the shop to ease her anxiousness. However, the time had passed, and she was breathing through another contraction. 

“Shit!” She exclaimed. “The cellphone!” She remembered, it was still so new it didn’t come to mind until now. However, she had left it on her nightstand upstairs. She stared at the staircase, the thought of climbing it washed her with dread—it might as well have been Mount Everest. But there was no other choice. Besides, she needed to change out of her soiled clothes.

As she reached the bedroom, she began to dial him with trembling hands. However, she hung up. 

“Echo! Oh my god!” She exclaimed. She was meant to stay with Yolani while they were scheduled at the birthing center tomorrow, but she had work today and hadn’t planned for this. Luckily, there were two of them. She called Ulyssa, she explained quickly, and she diligently took the orders. Ulyssa will pick Echo up from preschool and spend the night at the house until tomorrow. “Thank you, thank you!” 

“Of course! I got you last time, I got you this time,” Ulyssa assured. 

Meanwhile, Bill was meandering in a hygiene aisle holding on to a bouquet of flowers he plucked out from a bin near the front of the grocery store when he heard his cell phone sound for only a single ring. He’d made a quick pit stop for a new stick of deodorant before heading home. Figuring it was just a mistake, he didn’t think much of it, still, he tried calling Alma back—but was met with a busy tone. She must’ve accidentally dialed, he thought.

While paying for his items, his phone rang again. He glanced down at the caller ID and smiled, answering as he handed the cashier a ten-dollar bill. “Hey, babe.”

“Where are you?” 

“Uh, I’m at the store by the house right now, but I’m just about to go. I don’t need a bag,” he quickly said to the cashier. 

“Okay… Well, I need you to come straight home.”

“What’s wrong?” His heart dropped at the tone of her voice. “I don’t need the receipt,” he added, hurriedly grabbing his items and change. A few missed coins clattered to the ground.

“Listen… my water broke—”

“Holy fuck!” Bill shouted, earning some looks from shoppers as he began to hurry out of the store.

“Drive safely! Don’t speed here!” She groaned, feeling another impending contraction. 

“What’s happening?” He said, but his voice was breaking up on her line. “Alma!?” 

“Do not speed!” She adamantly reiterated. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

He rushed home despite her warnings, grateful that he had taken his Mustang out. His mind was racing as he slammed the car door and sprinted for the side entrance. He called out for her several times until he found her showering off. Alma turned, looking surprised to see him there so quickly. Obviously, he didn’t heed her warnings. Bill froze for a moment, equally shocked by how calm she seemed. On the drive there, he worried she was giving birth in their home. 

“What—uhm, I’ll get the bags,” Bill said, his palms rubbing the side of his jeans as he tried to keep the panic at bay. He was already mentally juggling the hundred things he needed to do. “But Echo?”

“‘Lys is picking her up,” Alma answered, wrapping a towel around herself and wincing as another contraction began to rise. “I’ve made sure she’s all set.”

“Okay,” he nodded, chewing on his lip, but as he watched her brace herself against the sink, his feet felt glued to the floor. The sight of Alma in discomfort, gripping the counter with a strained expression, made his heart pound faster.

She met his worried gaze in the mirror, her eyes steady despite the pain. “The faster we get out of here, the sooner I’ll get drugs.”

“Shit. Right,” he muttered, snapping himself out of it. 

When she was admitted to the hospital, things seemed to happen quickly without a chance to process. She was giving birth in an operating room in case anything went awry, and they had to resort to a cesarean. The sterile environment made Alma a bit nervous, but she kept focused on her goal instead. 

“Has it kicked in?” Bill asked, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, feeling the soothing relief of the epidural take hold. “This is so much better,” she sighed, relaxing into the bed. She was surprised to learn she was nearly halfway dilated when she arrived and was grateful it wasn’t all too bad until now. “Are you going to put those on?” She pointed, amused, at the green scrubs the nurses had given him to wear in case they had to stage an operation.

“Yeah, I’ll put the goofy shit on,” he dismissively waved toward it. “I think they just want me to take charge. I put them in there, I should be the one to take them out.” He joked, but all he got back was a playful eye roll from Alma. 

“Did you feel that one?” Bill asked yet again while sitting next to her and watching the contractions peaking on a chart by her bedside to pass some time. Earlier, he had watched her updating her father on a call while brushing her hair to braid it back. It was fascinating to see her mostly unbothered.

“No,” she said, but she looked uncomfortable shifting her hips. “I just feel this heavy pressure, but no, it doesn’t hurt.” 

Suddenly, they heard screaming coming from down the corridor. They shared a look of concern for the woman, clearly in the middle of delivering her child. 

“Please help me! Help me, LORD!!” The woman yelled. 

“Good god,” Bill muttered, his eyebrows raised as another outburst shot down the hall. He turned to Alma, who listened on sympathetically but was grateful she took the drugs this time.

It was an hour later that she began pushing. Alma had called a nurse in when she felt an intense, uncomfortable pressure down below, much more insistent than before.

Bill stood, offering to take a look, but she waved him off. “Please, don’t look,” she said, feeling a touch bashful about what things must look like. “Just… not yet.”

The nurse came in quickly and checked, her face shifting from neutral to one of concern. She immediately called for the OB, and both Alma and Bill’s heart rate quickened at the sight of the sudden urgency. They knew what was coming next. 

Vida came into the world first, her small body squirming as she let out a loud, unimpressed cry. Her eyes opened wide, filled with the displeasure of being thrust into the unfamiliar world outside her former home. But when she was laid down on Alma's chest, she settled a little, her wide gaze locking onto Bill's. He was stunned—caught in the surreal beauty of it all, watching the life he had created in front of him.

“Hey, Vida,” he whispered, gently touching the side of her cheek.

Vida’s cries quieted, but she was quickly whisked away by the nurses after Bill cut the cord, the sound of the scissors still sharp in the air. His heart sank a little as she was taken from him, but it was Luxe’s turn now, and his focus immediately shifted back to Alma.

His eyes widened when he realized the OB had her entire hand up to her forearm inside Alma, carefully checking the position of the second baby in the birth canal.

“Ow,” Alma winced, her body tensing.

“Did you feel that?” Bill asked, his voice tight with concern, his eyes searching her face for any sign of distress.

“A little,” Alma replied, trying to stay composed, but the discomfort was clearly written across her face.

Bill’s gaze darted from Alma to the doctor. “Wait, she can feel that,” he said, urgently. “You can give her more meds, right?”

Dr. Leslie shook her head sympathetically. “We can’t administer any more medication. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft with regret as she turned back to Alma. “You’re just going to have to bear with it.”

Alma swallowed hard, her throat dry. The epidural may have begun wearing off, but she knew worse. Besides that she had to face it, there was no other choice. She squeezed Bill’s hand even tighter, her knuckles white, and braced herself. With a deep, steadying breath, Alma focused. The pressure built again, and with Bill beside her, she began to push.

“Breathe through it, baby,” Bill reminded her, but she only side-eyed him, and he remained quiet, catching her contemptuous glare. 

In just a few pushes and a deep guttural groan later, Luxe cried out in the room, and Alma's chest deflated in relief when he was placed there. She cooed at him, and she wished Vida was with her then and there too. As soon as his little hand rested on her cheek, Luxe was whisked away too. 

They were a month early, and the nurses surrounded the babies. It was worrying to them, especially when they were informed they would be taken to the NICU for monitoring.

“Go,” Alma said to Bill, who seemed conflicted over following the nurses or staying with Alma. “They need someone with them.” She bit her quivering lip. 

“Okay, okay,” he kissed the top of her damp forehead and then kissed her lips tenderly. “I’ll be back for you.” Alma frowned, on the verge of tears, and Bill’s heart broke a little for her. She didn’t like feeling helpless. “Everything will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Bill stood outside the NICU, watching through the observation window as his children were being assessed. His arms were crossed, and the paper scrubs he’d been given crackled slightly as he shifted, his lip caught between his teeth. In the bright, sterile light of the NICU, he could finally take in just how small they were. Tiny, but they looked strong. The intensity of their care all felt unnecessary, even excessive. He didn’t like that Alma was alone in another room, scared and without her babies. 

He finally caught the attention of a nurse, who walked out of the room. She quickly informed him they were there for observation. 

“For how long?” he asked, through his clenched jaw.

“I’m not sure exactly—maybe an hour, maybe longer. We’re just monitoring their levels before they can be with Mama.”

“Besides that… everything is okay with them?” He asked low and as evenly as he could.

“Yes, sir. If I could,” she gestured down the hall, trying to excuse herself as she was needed elsewhere. 

He stepped back, letting her through, not even realizing he had locked her in frame with him. With a shaky sigh, his gaze returned to the twins. The way they were handled made them look so fragile, and yet there was strength in those tiny fists and soft, irritated cries. Despite wanting to stay close, he knew he needed to check on Alma. He couldn’t let her worry for long.

Bill did his best to explain what was happening with the babies, though he felt helpless as he watched Alma do her best to take the news without crumbling. When the head nurse came into their recovery room, she let them know the twins would be held overnight for jaundice treatment, Alma's quiet devastation turned into open tears. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her close until her sobs softened and settled against him.

He spent the evening coaxing her to eat something besides ice chips, knowing she’d need her strength. She agreed, but he could see the weariness in her eyes. Afterward, she wanted help out of the bed, to begin walking so that she could see the babies in the NICU. Gently, he helped her sit on the edge of the bed, even though she could stand, her legs would not cooperate. Alma shook her head, staring at her useless socked feet.

“Honey, I know you want to see them,” he said, meeting her defeated and tired eyes. “Just chill, okay? Your body went through a lot, you know. They’re okay.” 

Reluctantly, Alma sank back onto the bed, wincing at the soreness that shot through her body. “I don’t like this, Billy. I want them here.”

“Me too,” he said, running his hand down her braid. “And they will be. But for now, I need to take care of you.” 

Various professionals would stop by their room, nurses checking on Alma’s recovery and informing her of how the babies were doing. A lactation specialist encouraged her to pump while the babies were being treated. Alma wasn’t planning on breastfeeding, and especially didn’t like the thought of doing it in tandem. With Echo, she only did it for three months before she quit when her nipples bled and cracked. The specialist mentioned that it would help the babies recover faster, and so she was more than willing to try. 

It was late in the night, yet Alma was still fretting. Unable to rest without seeing her babies. It felt awful having them in her arms one moment and the next taken away like that. She asked for help out of bed again. This time, she managed to move her feet, still Bill called a nurse requesting a wheelchair for her. He took her to them, happy to do so because he wanted to see the twins just as much.

“Bill, please, my ass,” she lightly admonished when he was tilting the front wheels of the wheelchair off the ground as they approached the NICU.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said with a chuckle. 

The lights were dimmed to a soft glow in the nursery when through the glass, they could see their babies under the therapeutic neon blue lights. The nurses had already begun feeding them from what milk Alma could supply them. She frowned, wishing that she was able to do the task, but understood the restriction, especially with other babies nearby also needing quiet care.

“Vida is so much bigger than Luxe,” Alma whispered. Vida was a healthy seven pounds, while Luxe was just shy of six, though he was an eager eater, draining his bottle swiftly. “I want to hold them.”

Bill nodded. “Hopefully in the morning, love,” he said, softly rubbing her shoulder.

A nurse noticed them at the window and gave them a kind smile, mouthing, “yours?” as she pointed at the twins. They both nodded and after a quiet exchange with another nurse, she surprised them by opening the door and gesturing them inside.

“If you’re quiet, you can see them quickly,” she whispered to them. 

They both gave her an appreciative smile and eagerly followed her in. They were given permission to put their hands in the encased bassinets and to their amazement, each baby grasped their parents’ fingers with remarkable strength. The simple, warm touch eased the worries that weighed heavy in their hearts. They were resilient, they would be okay with some time. 

“I love you,” Alma cooed at them. “Just one sleep, babies, and we can be together. She looks so much like Echo,” she commented on Vida, looking up at Bill. “Just like her. Like you.” 

Bill smiled looking at his baby girl, feeling emotion well up in him while his baby son’s little hand held his thumb. He wouldn’t ever know like she did, but now he could picture Echo so clearly. He turned to Luxe when he began to fuss, his little face scrunching up, it caught the attention of the nurses, who gently signaled that it was time for Bill and Alma to go. And so they did with much reluctance and regret. 

Bill slept uncomfortably in the chair next to Alma’s bed, feeling she deserved to have the whole space to sleep to herself. That morning, after helping Alma shower and getting dressed, Bill took a quick shower himself. They planned to check on the babies again, hopeful that this time they’d be closer to holding them in their arms. Alma had spent the early hours pumping milk, eager to bring it with her to the NICU. But when they arrived, they found the twins still lying under the blue phototherapy lights, much to their dismay. They would be under them for a little longer, but they were happy to learn that their condition was receptive to the therapy they were receiving.

They were napping together in the hospital bed, with Alma snuggled up against him, wanting him close. But at some point, Bill had carefully slipped out, giving her the bed to herself while he settled into the uncomfortable chair again. He’d just started to drift off when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He quickly answered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Alma. It was Ulyssa, informing him that Echo was with Yolani now, and asked if they needed anything.

“Uhm, no… thank you, though. Really.” He said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw with his knuckles. “And ‘Lani, too.”  

“For sure! I hope everything went well? Are you okay?” She asked, as she was there when Echo was born, and it shook her so bad she vowed to never put herself through such a thing. 

For a moment, he didn’t answer, the weight of everything suddenly hitting him as he rubbed his tired eyes. He had been silently holding onto his fear until then, and being confronted with such a question forced him to think on it longer than he wished to.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Alma’s doing alright, and the babies… they’re in the NICU for jaundice, but they’re under those lights to help them get over that though. It’s just—a little hard to see.” He said to her honestly, even to his surprise. 

“Oh no,” Ulyssa lightly gasped. “Well, I hope they won’t be there long. Echo is so excited to meet them, it’s all she could talk about last night,” she said, hoping to lift his spirit a little. “She had so many questions that, honestly, I’m not qualified to answer!” she giggled. “And she misses you two, she insisted on sleeping in your bed last night. So she did.” 

Bill lightly chuckled. “I miss her too. I-I’m going to call Yolani. I think Alma would like to talk to her too. And thank you again.” 

“Yeah, don’t hesitate to call if you or Alma need anything,” she said before getting off the line. 

After he hung up with Ulyssa, he considered calling Yolani to give Alma a chance to speak with Echo. But first, he decided to reach out to his brothers—he hadn’t called them yet, caught up in the whirlwind of the twins’ early arrival. Yesterday, for some reason, his first call was to Bianca.

One by one, he dialed his brothers, each of them congratulating him in their own unique ways. They shared a mix of teasing, support, and advice he didn’t know he needed, and he felt himself relaxing, even laughing here and there. In better spirits, all he wanted now was to be home soon with his whole family—Echo, Alma, and their two tiny new additions.

Luckily, that afternoon, the babies were wheeled back into the room while Bill and Alma were finishing up some official paperwork. They were swaddled and cozy, and they were elated to have them all to themselves. Bill gave Alma space to interact with them while they lay on her bed. She first reached for Luxe, lifting his little blue cap off to reveal a head full of dark, beautiful, soft hair, and her heart swelled. Then, she reached for Vida, eager to see her little one’s head, only to gasp in surprise. There was evidence of soft strands of golden hair just like her big sister’s, but Vida’s scalp was practically bald. The parents laughed quite hard at the contrast. 

While Alma breastfed the twins, she found herself taking in their tiny, unique features, admiring them one by one. Though she didn’t want to initially, she made the quiet decision to breastfeed them as much as she could for at least a month—until what would have been their original due date. To her, that sounded manageable, and luckily February was the shortest month of the year. As she gazed down at Luxe and Vida as they ate, Alma’s eyes drifted up to Bill, who silently watched from the seat right by the bed, with an unreadable expression. 

“Is it weird?” she asked, studying his face. 

He puffed his bottom lip out, surprised by the question. “No?” 

“This is what they’re really for, you know.”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “I know that…” He leaned forward, his tone playful. “I don’t even know why you’d think I thought any differently?” Absent-mindedly, he ran his long finger across Vida’s chubby cheek.

“Just making sure,” she lightly laughed. He laughed a bit too, but in his gaze she saw nothing but his warm admiration for her.

They weren’t quite out of the woods yet, but they were hoping to be home by the end of the day. After breastfeeding them, Bill helped Alma put them in their joint bassinet and they both drifted into a nap, along with them feeling more at ease now that they were together. 

A young female nurse had quietly entered the room, checking on the babies, but Bill stirred in the chair, sensing a presence. He sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and the nurse smiled apologetically, for disturbing him.

“Sorry to wake you,” she said softly. “They should have another feed soon. I hate to wake her up,” she added, nodding toward Alma, who was snoring heavily. “Would you like to do it?”

“Uh,” Bill furrowed his brows, unsure. 

“Here,” the nurse, sensing his hesitation, gently picked up Luxe as he was the smallest, and placed him in his arms, much to his surprise. 

He hadn’t really held either of the babies, if not just transferring them from Alma’s arms to their bassinet. He was actually afraid to, as they were so tiny to him. Bill froze for a moment, staring down at his son with wide eyes. He never held a life so small in his arms before. And with Luxe being a boy, Bill’s unease grew. What did it mean to be a father to a son? His heart sank, fearing it would trigger something ugly in him. 

The nurse caught his wide gaze when she passed him a bottle of formula. Instinctively, Bill brought it to Luxe’s tiny lips, and he latched on eagerly.

“It’s good if you hold him a little closer,” the nurse suggested, seeing his trepidation. “Could I help unzip your jacket? He can get closer to your scent that way. It’ll help him recognize you.”

Bill hesitated for a moment, then nodded, unsure of what else to do. The nurse carefully unzipped his hoodie, and Bill pushed it open, revealing the white tank underneath. On his own, he held Luxe closer to his chest, feeling the warmth of his little body against his own.

“Yeah, just like that. You’ve got this, Dad,” the nurse encouraged. “I’ll leave you to it.”

When the nurse left, Bill let out a long exhale, trying to release the tension that had been coiled tightly in his chest. He focused on Luxe, feeling the weight of him in his arms as he continued to feed. Bill traced his son’s small features with his eyes—his tiny ears, the delicate curve of his nose, the soft roundness of his cheeks, and those perfect little lips. A smile tugged at the corner of Bill’s mouth as he looked at Luxe, and his heart began to settle, the fear from earlier slowly ebbing away.

Luxe looked so much like Alma, and Bill’s eyes welled up with emotion. His son, this tiny, vulnerable life, reminded him of the woman he loved more than anything. Luxe’s resemblance to Alma was undeniable, and in that moment, Bill’s heart softened almost instantaneously.

He knew without a doubt that he loved his son, even if it was hard to put his complicated feelings into words. But seeing him now, so small and so much like Alma, made something click for Bill. His son would carry his name—his legacy—but he would never carry the same burdens. Luxe’s future wouldn’t be weighted with the history Bill had fought to leave behind. The so-called Skarsgård curse, which his brother had once claimed clung to their family, wouldn’t follow his son, and Bill was determined to protect him from it in every way possible. The parts of himself that Bill loathed, suddenly felt so distant. Finally, he allowed himself to see himself with new eyes—a gentler lens—in the reflection of the little baby boy he cradled in his arms. 

Vida began to stir in the bassinet, and her small cry caused Alma to wake from her nap. She softly cleared her throat and turned to see Bill dutifully feeding their son and smiled seeing them together. Her boys.

“I’m ready to go home,” Alma said, gazing admirably at her baby girl while she fed her from a formula bottle. “Are you?” 

Without a word, Bill hit the button to call someone in for their release. 

…

Many long, sleepless nights had settled into their home since the twins arrived, their tiny cries breaking through the quiet at all hours. At first, Alma and Bill took shifts, each of them getting up when it was their turn, though sometimes neither managed to truly fall back to sleep afterward. The exhaustion had begun to take a toll. Echo had initially insisted on sleeping in their bed, miffed that her new siblings were now closer to her parents through the night. They let her join them, hoping to ease her jealousy. But after a few nights, even Echo seemed to reconsider.

One night, Bill was up for his shift, quietly pacing the room with Vida cradled in his arms, feeding and rocking her as she fussed. He could see Echo tossing and turning in bed, clutching her blanket as she tried to drift back to sleep. Her face relaxed when Alma, half-asleep herself, instinctively wrapped an arm around her and held her close. Just as calm settled over the room, Vida let out another cry, full of insistence. The sound stirred Luxe, who joined in with his own small, discontented whimper, and then farted. Echo shot up, exasperated and looking entirely done with the night’s interruptions.

“Dammit!” she grumbled, shimmying off the bed and grabbing her blanket and her beloved stuffed bunny in one huff.

Bill raised an eyebrow, holding back a smile. “Where are you going, Echo?”

“I can’t sleep, Papa!” she declared.

“Are you going back to your room?” He chuckled softly, watching as she stomped toward the door, clutching her things. She didn’t answer him, instead marching on to her quiet room, said enough. “Must be nice,” he murmured, adjusting Vida against his shoulder as he burped her. When he felt the babies spit up running down his shoulder he heavily sighed exhausted and Bill couldn’t help but envy Echo’s bold resignation.

Bill had been burning the midnight oil, taking on nearly all the night shifts himself. He insisted that Alma rest and recover, determined to let her body heal. In a more rested and alert frame of mind, she wouldn’t have agreed, but when the opportunity to sleep through the night without interruption was presented, she jumped on it without hesitation. However, sleep deprivation was beginning to wear Bill down. Some nights, he was so exhausted he could have sworn he saw shadows moving in the room’s corners, dark shapes flickering at the edge of his vision. Alma noticed, too—the heavy bags under his eyes, his dazed expression, and the way he moved sluggishly through the day, barely functioning when he should have been resting. His only real sleep came in short bursts, crashing for a few hours here and there, but it was hardly the rest he needed.

Alma felt a pang of guilt. She knew how much he was doing for her, but she couldn’t ignore his exhaustion any longer. So, despite his insistence that she rest, Alma began waking up with him again at night again more often. Though it meant less sleep for her, she was glad to share this time with him, giving him the chance to rest a little easier.

One night, during those eerie, witching hours just before dawn, both twins woke up crying. Alma went to Luxe’s bassinet, while Bill went to Vida’s. It was a familiar routine, each of them soothing one baby and preparing bottles. However, as Bill lifted Vida from her bassinet and began feeding her, Alma noticed him drifting, his gaze distant and unfocused. She watched him move slowly, almost as if sleepwalking, toward Luxe’s bassinet, even though she was sitting in bed with their son in her arms.

He stood over the empty bassinet, blinking slowly, then reached down, patting around as though searching for something. When his hand found only the soft sheets, his eyes widened in sudden panic.

“Bill, what are you doing?” Alma yawned.

“He—he’s not here?” His chest rose sharply. “Where the fuck is he?!” His eyes darted to her, wild with fear.

“I have him!” Alma immediately held Luxe up briefly to show him he was there with them. “He’s right here, love. Bill…” Alma sighed. “You need to sleep. Lay V’ down next to me. I got it.” 

Bill exhaled a long, defeated sigh, nodding as he placed Vida beside her. She was right, he couldn’t keep doing the night shift this way. He gently laid Vida down between her legs and sat on the edge of the bed right by Alma. His shoulders slumped while he blinked his tired, weary eyes, when Alma’s hand held the back of his neck, her fingers softly scratching his scalp, and pulled him close so that their foreheads touched. She gave him a tender kiss before pleading with him to sleep in the guestroom for the night, he’d never sleep otherwise. Reluctantly, he agreed, but instead of retreating to the guest bed, he quietly slipped into Echo’s. There, in the gentle company of his first baby, he finally surrendered to sleep.

It took time, patience, and more nights of shared exhaustion, but gradually, they managed to get the twins on a steadier sleep schedule. Alma wasn’t immune to the toll; twice she caught herself dozing in a pile of warm laundry, her arms cradling unfolded clothes instead of babies. As the nights grew quieter, they knew it was time for them to transition to sleeping in their nursery. Despite the long sleepless nights, it was bittersweet. 

…

“You’re such a chunky boy!” Alma cooed at Luxe as she lounged with the children in the den.

Luxe, who had been the smallest at birth, was now a little happy meatball, his chubby arms, and legs irresistible to Alma’s gentle squeezes. He giggled and smiled brightly whenever she spoke to him, his tiny hands reaching for her. She could tell he was going to be a charming and loving little boy.  

On the floor nearby, Echo was entertaining Vida with a set of thick plastic keys, jingling them above her baby sister’s face. Vida babbled excitedly, her small hands swiping at the keys until she managed to grab a blue one and yank it into her mouth. Echo gasped with surprise, then giggled at Vida’s determination.

“Mama…” Echo paused, abandoning the toy keys for Vida to wave around noisily. She crawled closer to Alma, her little brows furrowed in thought. “Is Papa going to New York again?”

“Hmm?” Alma hummed, glancing at Echo. She figured her daughter must have overheard one of Bill’s calls with Bianca. Lately, they’d had to be more careful with their words, as Echo had grown quite curious—and a bit nosy. Recently, she was caught poking around the private sitting area by Bill, surprised by such a bold act from her. It was off limits unless either parent was present with her. “Well, yes, but we’re all going this time.” 

“Really?” Echo’s face lit up. 

“Yeah! It’s Aunt B’s birthday. And GiGi will have just graduated from high school, so we want to give him a present too. He was salutatorian, it’s a pretty big deal, it means he had really good grades in his class.” Bill and Alma had gotten Giancarlo season tickets to the Knicks for his success. 

“When we going?” 

“We’re not going for another month or so, baby,” Alma smirked as Echo lightly pouted. “And maybe we shouldn’t be listening to Daddy’s calls, hmm?”

Echo quickly returned her attention to playing with Vida, trying to pry the toy keys from her baby sister’s grip. Vida stubbornly held on, then suddenly grabbed Echo’s hand and attempted to put it in her mouth instead.

“Mama, Vida is smelly…” Echo said, wrinkling her nose and side-eyeing her little sister. “She shit!”

“Echo!” Alma sighed, retrieving the pacifier Luxe had spit out and popping it back into his mouth. “E’, you cannot say ‘shit.’ Your daddy already talked to you about that. You’re too little to use adult words, honey.”

“Who’s saying adult words?” Bill’s voice boomed from down the hall, a playful warning in his tone. “I know it’s not my little Echo. She would never.”

Echo’s eyes widened, and she clasped her hand to her mouth guiltily. 

“Hurry, run and get a diaper for Vida for me, please,” Alma said, to save her from explaining what she said to him. 

If Bill caught her saying a swear word, he would make her repeat it. She didn’t like to do it, it made her feel remorse when she reflected on what she said. In turn, he would provide a substitute word, but he also wanted to make sure she was using it in the right context if she was going to say it anyway.

“Where are you going, E’?” He asked when she ran past his legs quite fast. 

“Helping Mommy!” she hollered behind her. 

“What’d she say?” Bill asked with a smirk when he joined Alma. He pushed his longer hair back, having gone without a haircut for two months, but it suited him.

“Shit,” she replied flatly, passing Luxe into his arms, who he happily took. Bill kissed the baby’s round cheek and smiled when his little hand grabbed his ear, giggling. “About her sister, who did shit herself—but still.” Alma shot him a pointed look. “What were you doing in the basement?” She wondered out loud, settling herself beside Vida on the little play pallet to carefully unbutton her onesie.

“Just… stuff,” he replied vaguely. Luxe pulled at his silver necklace and while gently removing his chubby hand, his gaze fell on his son's eyes, noticing that the color of them was settling in. Downstairs, he had been taking measurements for the darkroom but had also taken a call with Ash about upcoming show scheduling. Quietly, Bill had redirected Ash’s questions and calls to him instead of Alma. She hadn’t noticed yet, and had even commented on how smoothly things seemed to be running. For the most part, though, it had been while they’d been on leave. In both locations. “Are his eyes looking green to you?” He asked, changing the subject. 

Alma glanced up and smiled. “They are! Just like yours. He has your pretty green eyes.” She wiggled her fingers at him. 

Bill paused, feeling a strange wave of déjà vu wash over him. Hadn’t he heard her say that before? It felt so familiar, though this was the first time they had ever discussed Luxe’s eye color. Before he could linger on the thought, Echo came bounding back into the room, her small arms laden with supplies—two diapers, a pack of wipes, and baby powder. 

“Oh!” Bill suddenly exclaimed as Alma handed off the soiled diaper to Echo to dispose of it. She held it at arm's length with visible disgust. “You’ve dreamt about Luxe’s eyes! You told me in your sleep.”

“Huh?” Alma arched a brow at him, her expression skeptical. “What did I say?”

“Pretty much exactly what you just said—that he has my eyes. You said it while you were asleep.”

Alma tilted her head, genuinely confused. “I don’t remember that... I never saw them with that kind of detail.” Her gaze shifted to Vida, and she gently brushed her fingers over the single tuft of hair resting on her baby girl’s forehead. Echo had once compared her sister to Charlie Brown, and the thought still made Alma chuckle quietly.

“But you did,” Bill pressed, amused and a little incredulous. “That’s fuckin’—weird…” He let out a soft laugh, adjusting Luxe in his arms as he was pulling on his long sleeve shirt collar, trying to put it in his mouth. 

Echo returned, running straight to her father’s side, and he pulled her into a warm hug, kissing the top of her head after thanking her for being a good helper.

“Can I hold him?” she asked suddenly, stretching her arms out eagerly.

Bill and Alma shared a surprised look. For the most part, she had been fairly uninterested in her baby brother. Luxe was more mellow, happy to babble quietly or cuddle. He simply enjoyed observing the world around him compared to Vida, his playful, curious, and active sister. She was the first to hold her neck on her own, and once she even propped herself up on her arms to sit in her crib. A freakish fluke of feat to see from a three-month-old. But that Echo asked to hold Luxe was a good sign, she was warming to him slowly but surely. 

Bill gently placed Luxe in her lap, assisting by keeping his hands steady beneath the baby’s doughy body. Echo brushed her cheek against his soft full head of hair, and he let out a gurgled giggle in response. 

“See? Lucky likes you,” Alma said warmly.

“Yeah… he’s okay. I think.” 

“You think?” Alma mused. She shot Bill a look, her eyebrows raised as she mouthed, what the hell? He subtly tilted his head in agreement before pressing his lips tightly to keep from laughing.

*~*~*~*

It was a Sunday evening in the Skarsgård home, spring had been upon them and the Pacific Northwest rain showers didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. All the children were given a warm bath before being tucked into bed, and for the twins also a healthy feeding. They would all be sleeping warm and extra secure tonight in the still house.

Bill and Alma were in bed in their quiet room with the curtains drawn showcasing the lightning flickering in the far-off city. He laid on his back, with a gonzo road book, perched on his chest while Alma finished her nightly skincare routine next to him. It had been some time since she was able to keep on top of it since the twins arrived, and it was nice to return to the ritual of it. 

Unclasping the claw clip from her damp hair, Alma leaned into him, resting her head on his bare chest. His free arm instinctively came around her, pulling her close as his eyes flicked back to the book. Alma nuzzled into his warmth, her leg draping over his as she pressed her body against him.

Her heart thudded softly, the quiet of the room amplifying her longing. She wished he’d take a hint, but he was nearly finished with the thick book and seemed more focused on completing it. It had been quite some time since they had sex—too long. Slowly, they had been working up to it. 

Once, taking a joint candle-lit bath, she reclined, raising her arms behind her to rest her hands on the back of his head. She draped her body against his while Bill’s hands moved under the suds, exploring her with slow, delicate touches. Their heavy breathing synced together, in a strange way they almost felt like one organism. Breathing each other in and out, the energy feeling cyclical—utterly connected. It was a sensual and intimate reintroduction, but the encounter didn’t last long when a sharp cry broke them apart. 

There wasn’t enough room for spontaneity, though in trying to sneak away in a burst of shared pent-up lust they tried. Bill lifted Alma onto the desk of their shared office, his hands firm on her hips as their lips met in a fervent kiss. The heat between them was palpable, demanding release. But when he pushed into her, she stiffened, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk as her breath hitched sharply. Attuned to her body’s discomfort, he froze and carefully pulled out of her as carefully as he could. She looked up at him apologetically, and his own eyes reflected the same. Her body wasn’t ready the way she thought it was—or rather wanted it to be.

After that moment, Alma found herself growing self-conscious, even apprehensive. She waited so long to have sex after her first pregnancy. Nine months after birth, eighteen months in total since falling pregnant. It was all different then, she was alone, lost in the fog of depression, exhaustion and guilt, and it was the last thing on her mind. When Bill came into her life again, her body was more than ready in more ways than one. The pull between them was undeniable, his magnetism dissolving her self-doubt. Even in that hotel room where they had reconnected, her fears about how her body might feel to him after giving birth vanished the moment they were linked. In some way, it seemed he loved it more without knowing what it had gone through. 

However, now those thoughts nagged her again. Bill had only ever been complimentary of all the variations of her form. Even pregnant, when she’d feel self-conscious, he had made her feel the sexiest she’d ever been. So she knew he wouldn’t think any differently in that aspect, though the dreaded thoughts remained. Bill sensed the shift in her, so he took a different approach. He took a step back to where they had first started. All the way back to the beginning, in fact. 

One quiet morning, as sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, Bill’s hand slid down to cup her panty-covered sex. From behind her, he softly ran his middle finger up and down her covered slit while kissing her neck and shoulder, delicately. Alma let out a breathy whimper when he pressed the tips of his fingers above her clit and made small, deliberate circles, making her shiver. With a satisfied inhale, she arched her back, her body instinctively responding as she rutted her bottom against his growing erection, but when she tried to slide her hand down his boxers, he stopped her. This was for her. 

“Can I touch it?” He whispered, his breath fanning over her neck. Finally asking what he wasn’t so brave to do so long ago. 

Alma’s lips parted, and she gave a small, breathless nod. When his hand slipped into her panties, she gasped. His fingers found her wetness, slick and inviting, and he groaned softly, the heat of her arousal only spurring him on. His fingertips pressed against her clit again, this time without any barrier, and her body trembled at the direct contact. Suddenly, to his surprise, Alma cupped her hand above his and began to thrust into it, essentially masturbating herself with his firm pressed, stilled fingers to bring her own release. It was so hot to him how she used him in that way, so unapologetic, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He could see the tension in her body wash away, and her eyes filled with a sense of relief when she came to a pleasant end with shallow, satisfied pants. After all, she hadn’t had an orgasm in months. 

She relaxed a bit after that encounter, he fingered her while they lay next to each other, mutually masturbating with mingling breathy moans. She had been medically cleared to resume physical relations by now, but still, they took it slow. One night, Bill decided to switch things up. Hovering above her, kissing her while trying to coax another orgasm from her. When her walls clenched around his two long fingers, it set a fire ablaze in his chest. He wanted more—he wanted to taste her, he wanted her heat on his tongue, but as he trailed kisses down her body she pressed her thighs together clamming up. 

“Not yet…” Alma whispered sheepishly. 

He took a deep, steadying breath, his own heart pounding in his chest with need. He wanted to beg. He wanted to bargain. He stopped himself, he knew better than to push. Instead, he nodded, kissing her inner thigh before pulling back, and laying beside her once more. They returned to where they started, but this time, Alma shifted gears. She slid down his body, until she reached his hardness.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” she assured him, kissing his length, a shiver shooting up his spine. “So fucking bad.” She locked eyes with him as she swirled her tongue around his hooded tip, flicking it against his slit. His head fell back against the pillow, a groan escaping his throat when she took him into her warm, accepting mouth. It had been so long since it had been there, he knew he wasn’t going to last, especially when she swallowed him whole.

It took a few days, due to interruptions, but in the private sitting room, Alma had worked up the courage to have him so up close and personal between her legs. She figured, since he had felt her with his hands, maybe it was even time to have him inside her for real. The thought of him inside her still made her a little timid, though. His fingers were one thing—long and thick—but what waited in his pants? That was a different story entirely.

Bill took his time, kissing her supple thighs, his stubble mustache gently scratching as he whispered worship across her delicate skin. He knelt before her, wearing nothing but the shorts he threw on to have a run that morning, while she sat back on the loveseat, her legs draped open for him. He took his time within reason, always fearful of abrupt disturbance these days. His hands roamed over her thighs, up to her waist, and cupped her breasts through the soft cotton of her bralette. He laid wet kisses around her pussy lips, teasing his way up to her groomed mound. His eyes flicked up to hers, a quiet intensity in his gaze. Alma’s breath hitched, her chestnut eyes wide and expectant.

“Tell me you want it,” he murmured against her flesh, low and rough. 

Alma dragged her full bottom lip between her teeth, turned on at the sound of his voice and the look in his pleading eyes. “I want it… Eat my pussy.”

Bill’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the raw need in her voice sending a jolt through him. When he opened them again, they were filled with hunger as he spread her open with his hands. Face to face with one of his favorite places on earth, he dove in. His tongue swirled her entrance, humming in delight, finally tasting her directly from the tap. Alma’s back arched with the way he licked and sucked, how he hummed as if savoring a fine meal. Gathering her sweetness, he spat it back on her pussy, and then licked her clean again. She let out a breathy giggle at his enthusiasm, which quickly returned to a wanton moan when he slid a finger inside her. Her hips lifted from the loveseat, her shoulders pressing into the cushions when she tangled her fingers in his hair, holding his head still while she ground against his tongue, making him groan in delight.

He looked up at her, his eyes full of want while she continued thrusting against his head, as he added another finger inside her. She writhed before her hips stilled in the air, his fingers and tongue continuing to flick as she let go. Succumbing to a hard, all-encompassing climax she didn’t know she missed so dearly. The heady rush made her feel fuzzy all over. Bill growled deeply against her sex, the lower half of his face covered with her arousal, but also the gush that came out of her soaked his naked chest, and dripped down his torso. 

“I-I ne—” he paused, trying to collect himself as his teeth grazed her inner thigh. “I want to be inside you so bad,” he gently pleaded before speckling hard kisses against her skin. 

Alma ran her hand through his hair, but when he met her heavy, lust-filled gaze she caught her breath, he knew she’d say yes but only because she felt so good at the moment. It wouldn’t be an agreement born from a sound mind, but rather from the heat of the now.

“Can we try something?” He asked, rising to his feet and taking her hand. 

Alma didn’t respond; she just stared at his tented shorts, as if waiting for him to finally do something with it. So quickly, he guided her to their bedroom. He directed Alma to stand on her knees on the bench at the foot of the bed. She was at a better height for him this way, but he noticed her beginning to bend forward. He stopped her, there wasn’t a need, and this wasn’t what he was asking of her. 

“Just like this,” he crossed her ankles before pulling her body flush against his. 

With his free hand, he pushed his running shorts down, freeing his rock-hard erection. He slipped right between her warm, slick thighs, resting right below her wet slit. He reached forward, holding himself closer to rub against her clit as he thrust. It was different, due to the position, but the action was a familiar one she enjoyed. It was nice to feel his body against hers this way, the closeness, and the motion of his body. All of it arousing, enjoying the hot tip of his cock sliding between her silken folds. His thrusts quickened, holding tightly onto her hips, and Alma generously squeezed her thighs tightly as his moans grew. He pulled away, rubbing himself between her ass cheeks before he came between them, letting his essence pool in the dip between the small space where her lower back met her bottom. 

When time permitted, they continued in the same fashion. His cock between her thighs, her on top gliding up and down his shaft, her riding his face, her head hanging off the bed for him to enter her throat. Then there was the breathing, they didn’t know why they liked it or even exactly what they were doing but the energy surrounding them always felt electric. The need to reconnect never fettered, but they were having fun exploring everything else they could think of without it. The denial felt a little fun. Even the thought of penetration began to feel a bit taboo and unheard of.  

Now Alma lay beside him, the gentle patter of rain against the window pane filling the silence, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light from Bill’s nightstand. He flipped another page of his book while Alma traced the lines of his strong abs and the contours of his hips. Her pointer finger, circled his navel, ran down the long patch of hair below, and would stop with a light poke against the waistband of the white boxer briefs before continuing elsewhere. Though once, Alma’s finger slid past his waistband, glided over the cotton of his underwear and poked the base of his dick. It was definitely titillating, but he knew what she was slyly hinting at way before then.

He almost gave in on her birthday recently. She had spent the afternoon with friends, enjoying a late brunch, followed by mani/pedis and a trip to the spa. They’d indulged in bottomless mimosas the whole time, and by the time she came home, she was tipsy and clearly happy to see him. Meanwhile, he had gotten all the kids asleep early so he could be alone with her. However, now seeing as she sipped champagne all day he knew she’d agree to whatever he wanted, and again he didn’t want that. 

Though when she stood seductively, in just a sheer, hot pink thong, her silhouette backlit by the closet lights, he practically ambushed her. He pulled off his white shirt in haste and pinned her against the large dresser in the middle of the room, his lips crushing hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, while Bill humped her needily as if there weren’t layers of clothing between them.

They found themselves on the plush carpet of the closet room, making out, tongues fighting as they rolled around. He hardly even realized his lounge pants were off in the end—or that he was completely naked. Alma was ravenous for him, emboldened by the bubbly glasses she consumed.  

“When are you going to fuck me already,” she said, gripping his face, pushing his cheeks in. 

His brows furrowed, taken aback by her impassioned aggression. Bill realized then she was far drunker than he thought. He liked it, but he didn’t want to push inside her like this. Maybe, he had gotten a little softhearted over the months of a more tender kind of lovemaking during her pregnancy because he wanted to fill her in the same gentle and considerate way. He wanted her with a clear mind, especially and certainly not while lying on the closet room floor. 

“Don’t you want to?” She lightly pouted her kiss swollen lips. 

“It’s still about you tonight,” he thought quickly, pulling his face out of her grip to run his tongue down the tendon of her neck, making her soften. “It’s your birthday. I just want to make you feel good tonight.” 

Before she knew it, he pulled her thong to the side and slipped his fingers inside her, and she gasped, quickly forgetting whatever she was talking about. She looked at his flexed bicep, and his thick forearm, both bulging with veins as he diligently pumped his fingers inside her. It felt amazing, she felt amazing, intoxicated with only pleasurable waves and bubbles moving under her skin. 

Bill paused, making Alma let out a disagreeable whimper as she wanted to ride out the soft rumble of pleasure going through her. He had reached into a drawer beside them for a bullet vibrator, admittedly he was getting a bit tired. Alma had the stamina to keep going as long as she wanted to, compared to him, who had a long day caring for the kids by himself for the first time. He placed the pink device in Alma’s hand, and guided it to her swollen nub. Her back arched into the fast vibrations. He felt her tighten, her moans, her wetness, like music to his ears. 

Her breath caught in her throat, when suddenly he added a third finger, in the midst of her climax. Feeling the stretch, that sweet familiar stretch she missed, was enough to undo her. Bill swallowed hard, feeling the tension against his fingers and the heat of her at his fingertips, his dick twitching as if taunting him. Her free hand tightly gripped his arm that held him, hovering above her as she cried out, trembling at his touch. 

She let out a satisfied giggle when she sat up quickly. “Your turn,” she said, her eyes glinting mischievously. 

“Okay, hey,” he said when she began pushing him back, and he nearly felt cornered like prey. Almost falling back into the hanging clothes behind him before he found a better place to land. “Hey, hey, wait. Baby…” Even with his dick out, his body even stiffened just as much for a moment when it seemed as though she was going to sink down on him. Now he wasn’t thinking clearly, he was just going to give into his lust and let it happen despite himself. 

When she put the vibrator on the underside of his cock, he jolted with surprise. It was on a high setting that he knew he couldn’t handle all too well. He gave into it when Alma used both hands to stroke him, his hips involuntarily thrusting into them lightly. When the vibe went further down against his balls, she held it there while she twisted her hand up and down his length, palming his tip every other revolution. God, it felt good, he thought, but her pussy would be so much better, the devil in his ear whispered. When she kneeled between his legs and took him in her mouth, he threaded his fingers through her hair. He watched her head bob up and down along with her stroking hand. It was sloppy, the only time that kind of messiness could be described as good—no, utterly marvelous. 

When she suddenly slid the vibrator right behind his balls, pressing down on the delicate area, his body tensed in a violent shake. His body reacted much more quickly than his mind could process. Alma popped her lips off his throbbing cock, her hand continuing up and down his ample length, and he choked out a deep groan. Thick ropes of his climax landed against his torso, which Alma happily licked up as he cursed. The vibe buzzed away on the carpet as it fell away from her grip when his hand shot out, grabbing her wrists with a firm, almost harsh grip, and he yanked her forward. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she found herself face-to-face with him, his bewildered, intense gaze locking onto hers. Alma froze, worried that he might not have liked what she had done. But then his hands moved to cup her face, and his mouth crashed onto hers. His tongue invaded with raw appreciation, tasting himself.

That had been about a week ago now. She didn’t remember all the details of that night, so Bill had to fill her in on just how insatiable she’d been. Hearing his recount, she felt a flush of embarrassment—it had been her first time drinking in quite a while. She apologized sheepishly, but Bill only laughed it off. 

“Trust me, I had a great time.” He assured her with a dimpled grin, pulling her into himself, and kissed the top of her head. 

As Bill turned another page, he glanced at how many were left. Five. Just five more and then he can put the book down and eat her out, which is what he assumed she was looking for. This coming week would be their first wedding anniversary and while they didn’t make plans but have a quiet date at home, he figured they would finally be having sex then. It would be as good a time as any after nearly a month of, quite frankly, some unusual foreplay at times. There were times he even recalled them exchanging some really strange dirty talk too. Some things Alma had said made him raise an intrigued brow in hindsight, but some things he could remember saying made him cringe a little inside.

Alma huffed softly beside him, her hand coming to rest on his belly after poking his nipple. He frowned slightly, missing the soothing sensation of her fingertips tracing his skin. It was quite relaxing, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t reading a little slower to prolong the soft tingles it gave him. A flash of lightning illuminated their room for a brief moment, followed by the rhythmic sound of rain falling harder against the windows.

“Billy,” Alma said, brushing her foot against his hairy shin. 

“Yeah, love?” he replied, peering down at her, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair idly. At first, he thought she looked bored, but then he noticed the subtle tension in her expression—a nervousness that made his pulse quicken. Closing his book, he laid it on his chest, with his pointer finger bookmarking his spot. “Look at me,” he said gently, tilting her chin with a light touch. Her eyes met his, pleading, yet fiercely filled with a desire that sent a rush of warmth through him. His heart thudded hard as he whispered, “Tell me.”

“I want you. I’m ready.” She whispered with the undoubted certainty he was looking for all along. 

Bill tossed the book away, the pages fluttered loudly like a flapping of bird wings before coming to a hard thud against the floor, shutting closed. Alma palmed him, he felt hot to the touch and heavy as blood rushed down his cock with a force. Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, kissing her hard, full of unfettered want. When they quickly did away with their minimal clothes, Bill's lips had latched around Alma’s hardened nipples. Ridged and silken on his tongue. They didn’t feel like there was much need for foreplay tonight, just the thought that tonight was the night they had been working up to was finally going to happen sent a shudder down their loins. The ache they felt would finally be satisfied. The space between them would finally be filled. 

When Bill flipped them around, Alma lay back, spreading her legs invitingly as he sat on his knees. A flicker of nervous energy coursed through him, his heart pounding with anticipation. He took hold of her thighs, roughly pulling her toward him. Her gaze, once practically gawking at his hardening cock, flicked up to look at him, mirroring his playful smirk.

He leaned down, kissing her tenderly, while her hand traveled down between them, stoking him before lining him at her entrance. Their chests both rose in a shared nervousness—they were so close. 

“I want you so fucking bad,” Alma whimpered against his lips, hooking an arm over his broad shoulders. “Fill me.” 

He pushed in slow and focused, checking her expression for any discomfort while she watched him sink into her with parted lips. The stretch she felt, the fullness, every ridge, even the warmth of him finally being inside her, made her eyes flutter closed for a moment. He looked between them, savoring the way her velvet walls encompassed him again. The familiarity, even comforting. He was home again. They both let out a satisfied moan when he was finally settled all the way inside her. He stilled, trying to prolong the feeling. 

Alma took his face into her hands, noticing his pained expression, looking as though he wanted to cum already. His gaze met hers, checking in on her. But when their eyes met, some kind of giddiness glinted in their eyes. They began to snicker, tickled by the whole ordeal it took to come to this, laughing into their kisses. 

Alma hooked her legs around his waist, coaxing him to move his hips against hers finally. He went slowly, as Alma wrapped her arms around him tightly, softly moaning into his ear before she nipped at his lobe. He built the rhythm up, enthralled with how she felt all around him. Elated even. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he grounded out. “So fucking tight. So fucking warm.” He breathed out, snapping his hips inside her, making her breath hitch. “You’re so mine.”

Her nails, which had been digging into the firm muscles of his back, slid upward, one hand tangling in his hair and pulling him closer as she moaned against his lips. He had wanted to make love to her—soft and unhurried—but the way she tugged at him, just a little rough, fanned the flames of desire that had been burning deep within him.

“Give it to me,” she pleaded. “Fuck me.” 

His teeth grazed the curve of her neck before he pulled back, straightening up. With a firm grip, he hooked his hands behind her knees and pressed them gently toward her, lifting her hips off the mattress with ease. Alma’s grin widened beneath him, her delight unmistakable. He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips, amused by how much she relished being pinned beneath him.

He leaned into her, thrusting harder and deeper, pulling fevered moans from her lips. Her muscles clenched around him, the sensation so intense it made his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Oh my fucking god, don’t stop,” she begged, as she watched him pounding into with a shocked gaze. 

Bill’s jaw clenched, her walls gripping and pulsing delectably around him. “Your pussy—fuck,” he gasped, feeling himself succumbing to his impending release. The white heat between them spreading bright.

“Tell me,” Alma demanded, her voice tinged with a desperate whine. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I love it,” he declared without hesitation, his hips maintaining their relentless rhythm. “I’d fucking kill for it.”

Alma’s eyes widened as a flash of lightning lit up the room, casting a bright glow that illuminated the depth of her brown eyes. The low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, but it was his words—and the way he was deep inside her—that struck her to her core, unraveling her completely. It was twisted—they could pretend otherwise, but deep down, they knew they had disrupted the natural order of things. In many ways they regretted it, the part they didn’t though, was the wicked delight of getting away with it all. 

When she cried out, tears pricked her eyes, her body trembling as she came undone around him, the intensity overwhelming. He felt so solid, so heavy, as he followed her over the edge, releasing himself with a shuddering exhale. His warmth filled her, and she welcomed it. He collapsed on top of her as their residual moans flooded into each other's mouths as they kissed hungrily. Whispered declarations of love fell from their lips as they clung to each other, caressing while still linked. Unwilling to break the connection, savoring the closeness.

The rhythmic patter of rain against the roof, blended with the steady cadence of their cyclical breaths, filling the room with a tranquil ambiance. Bill’s hand gently kneaded her breast, his thumb lazily circling her nipple as his forehead pressed against hers while they breathed each other in. Then, almost simultaneously, they became aware of the peculiar sensual breathing they shared. Their gazes met, puzzled for a brief second, before soft bashful chuckles escaped their lips. What the hell were they doing? And how did something so strange come so naturally to them? Not only that, why did they genuinely enjoy it?

As they settled their laughter, their conversation had already shifted to round two—Alma declaring she wanted to be on top this time. Between soft kisses, she playfully ran the tip of her tongue up his top lip and let it flick against the tip of his pixie perfect nose, her laughter bubbling up again when he licked hers back.

He grabbed her knee, gently pulling her closer as he shifted them, positioning her on top. Just as they fell into place, a sudden cry rang down the hall. They froze, their wide-eyed gazes locking in mutual shock as the sound shattered the intimate bubble they’d been wrapped in.

“Dammit,” they muttered in unison, laughter quickly spilling out as they acknowledged their luck had run out.

They were lucky to get away with the time they spent together without a disturbance. A time to reconnect, which they desperately ached and yearned for. Though, duty called, and with reluctant sighs, they separated, exchanging playful glances and whispered promises to pick up where they left off—hopefully sooner rather than later.

FIN

[human2pokemon]

I Choose Human Prequel part 1 of 2

It was for old-times sake.  Natasha hadn’t seen the Pokémon lab in years,  not since her first foray out into the world of Pokémon training.  It hadn’t been easy, leaving her elderly pokemon at her grandmother's ranch, so she had gone back to the place where it all started.  

The front room had a “wall of fame”, so to speak, with pictures of every child from this village on the first day of their adventure.  Many of them had a cluster of photos, where the child had beaten all the gyms in the area, or championed in the league.  Natasha almost avoided her own picture, in its solitary estate.  Room had been left around it by an enthusiastic professor.  It was now under threat of being overcome by her peer’s achievements.  

Natasha reached up and unpinned it, placing the tack back in its exact spot.  

“I would appreciate keeping the picture where it is, you know.”  Said the professor.

“Sorry.  I just dropped off my pal at my uncle's house.  He can’t make the daily commute anymore.  I must be an embarrassment.”

“Perish the thought.  There’s no shame in admitting defeat now and again. Just don’t abandon your pal because he reminds you of your failure.”

“E-excuse you?  I’m not abandoning him!”

The professor took the photo back gently, “So long as you see your past as a failure, you’ll never move forward.  You will, unknowingly, become resentful towards your pal.  The job isn’t going well, I take it?”

“There is no job.  The camping season is pretty well over, so they’ve started letting staff go.  I wasn’t the only one who lost a job.”

Part Two

[vashatxt]

more than friends - a stelle x march nsfw drabble (first time)

stelle looks around march 7th's room for what feels like the hundredth time; every time they visit their friends here, they spot more details hidden amongst the overwhelmingly pink color scheme. photographs - so many photos, her camera never leaves her person after all - of different worlds and ships and adventures, of dan and himeko and welt, of pom-pom and peppy, and... of stelle. they had been overcome with emotion the first time they noticed a picture of the three of them be given pride of place on her wall; it was strange, to think that in the space of one mission together, stelle had become important enough to march that she couldn't think of anything more urgent when they left belobog as to document the spring of their friendship. but tonight, its a different image that catches stelle's eye. not a posed shot or selfie that they'd been roped into taking with someone, but an unfamiliar one. a photograph some might call a candid. "when did you take that one?" they ask, tapping march's shoulder and pointing at it. it's tacked up on the wall just beside her bed. in it, stelle sits on a bench, slumped down a little with their head leaning to one side, a peaceful expression on their face. eyes closed, enjoying the fresh air. "oh...," march blushes. "i - sorry, i couldn't resist! you looked so lovely, stelle. it reminds me of how... how nice it is when everything comes to a halt. you know what i mean? how easy it is to relax in those moments where you have nowhere to be and nothing to do." "you don't have to apologise. you're good at this - you certainly made me look pretty." "you always look pretty!" there's a blush colouring march's cheeks as she avoids their gaze, maybe feeling embarrassed for the unsolicited compliment. but stelle doesn't mind; there's just this weird feeling in their stomach when they look at her. the kind of feeling that's always there in the background, and amplifies itself every time march is in the same room as them. and she's so, so close to them right now. sitting up on the bed, hip to hip, but turned slightly away from each other. "says you," stelle mouths, just loud enough that march can't pretend she doesn't hear it. march is beautiful... petite and bright eyed with the prettiest smile, soft skin, hands much smaller and daintier than stelle's own. a few moments pass as they contemplate what it would be like to hold them. "you're staring at me. do i have something on my face or something?" "sorry," stelle coughs. "uh...,"

they don't know why they do it, but the longer stelle looks at march, her bright eyes and even brighter heart, all the beauty in the world stuffed into this small girl, the more the urge to reach out and touch her builds up.

they glance away, before stealing another right back -and then, then they do it. before any kind of filter or shame can get in their way, they brush a strand of hair from march's face and kisses her.

stelle makes sure to go in soft, they're unsure how this usually plays out and what feels good and what's even appropriate; it's march that reciprocates like she's been waiting her whole life for this. maybe she has been. maybe there's love and loss and heartbreak and longing in her past. she wraps her arms around stelle's neck, taking them by total - but welcome - surprise, leaning forward and climbing into their lap.

her legs around her waist; because she's small and slight enough to fit comfortably there, slotting into stelle like a missing puzzle piece.

the butterflies in stelle's stomach are a new sensation, and it's one they battle with. march is eager, deepening their kiss, her tiny nails digging into the back of stelle's neck. the more she does this, the more uncomfortable stelle feels in the pit of their stomach.

but they're pretty sure it's normal.

they spend a while pressed against each other in a lingering, sometimes lazy, sometimes desperate kiss; march whimpering every time she feels stelle's tongue flit into her mouth, their names followed by little gasps of breath or moans their only soundtrack. march doesn't want it to end. she feels special, when stelle looks at her. when stelle holds her. if she pulls away, it might end. she'd have to answer to stelle, answer to the desires she's been feeling all these weeks since they met. and she doesn't have the words for that.

stelle's tongue brushes march's bottom lip, and it silences her doubts in an instant. for stelle, the butterflies are turning into heat. white hot heat at their core, not satisfied with anything; not satisfied with just tightening their grip or pulling at march's lips with their teeth. they want - they need - more. what the more entails doesn't really cross their mind, it's just an instinct. a desperation to be as close to this girl as they can possibly get.

"lie down," stelle mumbles, and march responds with wide eyes and silent nods. she clumsily climbs off of their lap, and crawls across her bed, lying on her back.

stelle looks at her, really looks - her skirt riding up just a little bit, caught under her thigh; her vest rolls as well, to expose her hip. she's... she's everything, stelle thinks. everything.

"you can do whatever... i... i trust you...," march is stumbling over her words, but the intent is clear.

stelle props themselves up beside march, their hand resting momentarily on her stomach before moving down; cold fingertips on the hot skin of her hip, and resting on her thigh. march bites her lip and shyly spreads her legs, inviting them. stelle can't resist, and march is staring at them with nothing but lust, pleading; eyes as sad and wanting as a puppydog. they slip their hand underneath the fabric of her skirt and squeeze her soft thighs, slowly trailing upwards, until... fuck.

she's so warm, and as stelle takes two fingers and gently rubs her slit, they realize it's because march is wet. she's soaking; and she's arching her back into stelle's touch, needy and desperate for more. more pressure, stelle thinks, pressing down on march's swollen clit, so sensitive that she gasps. "stelle...,"

"shh, i've got you, i'll be gentle-," "n-no. more."

fuck. whatever awkwardness stelle assumed would come with fumbling around and trying to figure out how to pleasure a pretty girl just didn't exist; march's desperation works like reassurance, like encouragement. march twitching and leaning into where it feels good is the hottest thing stelle could imagine. the nights spent with march just a few doors away, thinking about how good she smells and how pretty her hands would look holding theirs - wondering about kissing and how she might react to their shameless flirting and loving the way she would blush when stelle was confident enough to do so.

the nights they spent touching themselves the way they were now touching march, slow, lazy circles to draw the feeling out as long as possible, until march's gasps are loud enough that stelle speeds up just to calm her down.

"i d-don't wanna yet, noo, not yet-," march protests, but her body is betraying her. her toes curl and she clenches her thighs, every time she meets stelle's eyes she feels like she's going to combust.

she wants to feel their weight on top of her and have them fuck her hard, knuckle deep inside her cunt until she screamed so loud everyone would know that she was squirting, cumming all over stelle's hand, grinding and desperate for more still even as she does.

"p-please... stelle... innnnn... inside me...,"

stelle takes the hint, and it's not hard to slip two fingers into her pussy, finding a rhythm that march could match by rocking her hips and moaning, the sound much deeper this time. she feels so full, and she wonders how she'll ever feel normal being empty again. she wants more, she wants stelle deeper and faster and harder, she pushes pathetically against their fingers, all but out of energy, but stelle looks like they could go for hours.

"th-that feels...so good. stelle...,"

the sound of their name is like a catalyst, stelle thrusting her fingers in and out of her soaking cunt faster and faster. for march, the room spins, but stelle shushes her, calmly, soothingly. "good girl, good girl... i've got you... i'm looking after you, don't worry... you can cum for me, sweetheart... be a good girl for me and show me what i do to you...,"

stelle's own pussy aches as they curl their fingers while deep inside march, iliciting a squeal they hadn't heard from her yet. "stelle, i'm gonna -,"

stelle pulls their fingers out and watches march's face fall and her words turn into nonsense. "make yourself. for me...," they say, desperate to see how march does it. aching as her face shifts from 'oh, no fair' to 'fuck it', her pretty hand finding where stelle's is, still hovered on her mound, and squeezing their wet fingers. as march begins pleasuring herself, stelle doesn't break eye contact, slowly sucking their fingers until they were all cleaned up from march's pretty, sweet slick.

and then, they join in. shoulder to shoulder, with their heads leaned towards the others, stelle plays with themselves with the feel of march's hot breaths against her face. march, who is flushed and tired and full of lust. "please let me taste when you cum."

"your wish is my command." "then cum for me, stelle, pleaseee. please let me cum and please...please...,"

it doesn't take long for stelle to be able to make that wish come true. they mumble - march, march, i'm close, please, i'm so close; and the next minute, they both cum. neither know who's first, their names cling together like an out of tune chorus as the sounds spill out of their mouths.

march curls up in a ball, clenched and small and overstimulated as she does, her cum leaking into the gaps between her fingers; skin glistening when she finally pulls out of herself. stelle, on the other hand, throws their head back and bucks their hips upwards as the waves come, cursing march's name and using their free hand to clutch a pillow as tight as they can. sweat pools as it runs down their neck and into the dips by their collarbones; and march is panting, smiling - she shifts down in the bed and curls up on stelle's thigh, a hand resting on the other.

stelle reaches down to her and slips their two messy fingers into march's eager mouth, the lewd sucking and popping sounds driving them crazy. they fall asleep like so, stelle's fingers still lingering at march's lips, red coloring on their cheeks. whatever happens when they wake is up to future them to figure out.

march may laugh it off and ignore it, stelle might make a silly joke to wind her up and end up fucking her from behind in a storage closet when the teasing turns march into a desperate mess for them again. or maybe this is all a dream. still, stelle thinks, how nice it would be if it isn't.

[sonicasura]

Getting To Know Yourself

Circle Of Conquest, Lower Echelon

Docter Helix Helix House

Dr. Helix: Alright then, the Brighten Blue Eye is ready. Toilen do you have that Special Panacea ready?

Toilen: Primed and ready Dr. Helix, and the Ripple Drops are clean.

Dr. Helix: Good, Good, now with everything in place, are you ready for the check-up Kafka?

Kafka who simply sat in a wooden chair gave a simple " Ya Doc" as the duo began to give the check-up

Kafka didn't think his day would end up with him getting a check-up by a Monster in another world but here he was. Hell it wasn't even his idea it was Psaro who brought up the idea of getting a check-up on his body too see if anything changed with transforming into a Kaiju. In all honesty Kafka didn't give it much thought that something could be wrong or off with his body after the transformation, he was just focused on learning how to control his Kaiju transformation, not seeing if he had gained sharper teeth or something.

After that suggestion, Kafka was immediately worried that something may have changed, though unfortunately sceduling a Docter's appointment any saying " I turned into a Kaiju a couple months ago and I want a check-up, Thank You" wasn't exactly an option. Thankfully Psaro came to his aid again and said that Docter Helix Helix could give him a check-up and see if anything was wrong. Kafka of course agreed and headed to the genius scientist immediately with Psaro intow.

Getting there was easy and Kafka was delighted to see Toilen there also. As after the Trio's adventure he had gone to Docter Helix to hopefully become their apprentice, and after a lot of convincing and an apology about knicking some of the Sands Of Time, Doc. Helix took Toilen in as their Protege.

From what Kafka could tell everything was going great for Doc. Helix and Toilen, ( Doc. Helix would agree as he very much enjoyed having Toilen around the Lab, but you didn't hear that from me)

Anyway the check-up was under way, and Docter Helix immediately went too the most important information he could get. First starting off with an X-Ray by using a special Brighten Blue Eye, then a blood sample from both his human and kaiju form. A check-up on his muscles and nerves, along with questions about his dietary habits, along with a lot more tests that were ran ( I'm sorry but human biology is not my strong suit, so that's all I got for that)

About an hour later all the tests were done, and in that time Psaro had returned as they needed to step out and gather some reports about the current restoration progress of Nadiria ( Kafka sometimes forgot that Psaro was basically a King now) and had brought along Rose who had gotten back from Caprice's Middle Echelon where they were building new Village for Monsters to live in. It was nice really nice to see the trio again after such a long goodbye.

Docter Helix: Alright, that is everything, all the results and photos have been collected.

Psaro: Thank you for the help Docter Helix, I'm truly grateful for your help.

Docter Helix: Your Gratitude is welcomed, but I honestly wanted to do an eximation of Kafka for awhile after I heard of this Kaiju form and I must say the results are fascinating * Bring up a couple photos* Now lets get down to brass tacks here. Kafka I am sorry in advance if this comes off as brash, gently going into major news was never a stong suit of mine. Now first off, we should go over your heart or lack there of.

Everyone:.....WHATTTT!?!?!?

Docter Helix: Yes it seems you no longer have a human heart * brings up X-Ray photo* instead there seems to be some sort of orb in lue of a human heart in your chest.

Kafka: O-O-OR-ORB!?!? Wait do you mean to say that my heart has become a Kaiju core.

Docter Helix: Is that what there called? Well then yes, your heart has become a Kaiju core. In all honesty I'm not surprised that your heart went under such a massive change..... I already see the confussion on all your faces so let me explain a bit. What your body can do now with transforming into a Kaiju is absolutely incredible, however those things take a great toll on the body and a human heart could never handle that kind of exertion forced onto it. The heart would give out very quickly from all the stress of trying to maintain proper blood flow and oxygen levels. So your body had to make the change in order for you to not only survive but thrive.

Rose: Th-That is incredible, too think that transformation modified his very heart to make it work for his body.

Docter Helix: Yes, though there is a couple other major things to go through. As the tests confirmed a suspsion of mine. That I am all but positive that you are actually no longer human, but a full fledged Kaiju.

Kafka.Exe has blue screened

Docter Helix: Now before anyone loses there mind, this is not a bad thing. Kafka is still very healthy and there have been no degenerative ailments that were shown. Now to answer how I know he is no longer human. Well the two blood samples I took from his human form and Kaiju form, should show the genetic differences between the two forms however it shows the Kaiju genetics in both blood samples. This led me to more closely examin the bllod samples which made me realize that the human blood is simple morphed kaiju blood. That combined with your heart being replaced has led me to this conculsion.

The information that Docter Helix Helix gave had really shakken. Thankfully he had Psaro, Rose, amd Toilen there to help cheer him up. This went on for a bit before Doc. Helix coughed to get everyones attention for the final bit of important information.

Docter Helix: Now I see this has shakken you, but don't worry the changes don't threaten your wellfare and you just need to adept to this new body, easier said then done I know, but in the brief time I known you, you don't let anything keep you down. Now before you go there is one more critical piece of information to share. Your are starting to become malnourished.

Kafka: Huh? How I eat a lot everyday, and I even been keeping a healthy weight. I haven't been starving myself or anything like that.

Docter Helix: Well your weight would be healthy if you were still human, but your a Kaiju now. You burn through fats and calories incredibly fast now. Your body demands more food to keep itself at full physical strength. Three human sized meals can't hope to satisfy a Gigantes and the same goes for you. You are going to have too double, no triple your meals and there size to keep up with your bodies hunger. You may not have been paying attention, but I'm sure you still felt extremely hungry after each meal. You can't ignore your stomach Kafka, your health and strength a dependent on it now, more than ever. Toilen please hand him the panacea, Kafka eat this, it will help recover some of your strength.

Toilen: Got it, here ya go Kafka * Hands over the panacea*

Kafka: * Eats the panacea* Wow thanks, feel a bit more energized now. Also Ya, now that you mentioned it I have been feeling more hungry as of late, but I just chalked it up to the changes I made to my diet, you know a medium burger instead of a large stuff like that. Though now that I know that, it seems I have take seriously up my food intake now if I want to succed.

Docter Helix: Good, you understand, now * writes something on a piece of paper* may I suggest some Heavyweight Boxer's Broth or how about some Hubble Bubble and Shriek, both are good options for a big meal.

This check-up definitely served up a full course meal of results

Ok, so I hope everything made sense, I used a lot from the post about the theory of Kafka's condition, so thanks to that post for the idea. Anything to change or add?

I tried but again I'm no good at biology or medical sciences

Kafka definitely has some thinking to do since he never expected he became an actual Kaiju. Though the man won't dwell on it after he remembers how insane his life already is. What's more crazy than being the foster father of a cambion king to an entire monster civilization?

Although man better hope no monster eavesdropped on his examination, specifically when he went kaiju. News travels pretty fast even in Nadiria and his kaiju form will be seen very pleasing to the inhuman eye. Rosehill Tower about to get love letters alongside all kinds of invites addressed to Kafka. XD

[super-cosmic-library]

I just had a prophetic vision where Robin’s parents are really big cruise people. Like, any chance they get, they are going on a cruise. They’ve got a whole wardrobe of clothes they specifically wear on cruises. Most of the pictures of them scattered about the Buckley house were taken on cruises. They have created a system for entering sweepstakes to win free cruise trips. Even some of the ship captains know them by name for how often they travel. Robin’s parents love cruises. 

Robin, on the other hand, can’t even look at the ocean on dry land without getting seasick, let alone live on a boat for a week at a time. It didn’t used to be too bad. When she was a little girl, she only got sick if she was in a room without a balcony or if the smell of the buffet fish was too fishy. However, as she grew up and especially after the Russian truth serum, Robin gets nauseous at even the mention of boats (she was a very brave girl for getting in the boat at Lover’s Lake, she just wants someone to acknowledge that, okay). So, because she’s under eighteen and her parents actually care about her well being, she starts spending the weeks her parents are vacationing at the Harrington’s. Her parents, whatever assumptions they have about their daughter and Steve, are okay with their daughter staying there because Steve’s parents will be there too, right? At least, that’s what Robin and Steve lead them to believe.

Instead, the two best friends spend the week vacationing in their own way: by getting high by the pool (thanks, Eddie) and driving to different roadside attractions across the state of Indiana, making sure not to wander for too long just in case the Buckleys want to make a call when they’ve docked at whatever private island the cruise line owns.

These weeks at Steve’s become some of her favorite memories. And when she and Steve eventually move out of Hawkins and into an apartment together (later to be followed by Eddie and Nancy), it’s photos from these weeks that decorate their place. It’s a map of the states they’ve been hanging on their living room wall. It’s newspaper clippings of places they want to go tacked to their fridge, waiting to be torn down and traveled to. They’ve got a whole system for how to choose which place they go to next, too. Robin loves her adventures with Steve.

[comicgoblinwrites]

WIP Folders Tag

thanks for the tag, @magic-is-something-we-create !

Rules:

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, & then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Tag as many people as you have wips

So, I know that having file names like “lsdfllkjhshkj” or “unnamed 3” or “document5” is a trope among writers, but I’ve always had somewhat coherent names for my files. One fallacy that comes up is I have multiple copies of most things, so a lot of files end up with "copy 2, copy copy 3, copy 2 copy" tacked onto them. I also JUST went through most my files to organize.

This is also just what’s on my laptop, and also just my prose stories. I’m not going to subject y’all (or myself) to my entire library. Maybe someday. Maybe I’ll do another one of these for my comics.

It looks like there are… 8ish WIP folders here, so that’s 8 people 😬 @writewithfire, @faelanvance, @kiraofthewind @mjjune @gailynovelry @author-audrey-simmons @arijensineink @elizaellwrites

The list is Under the Cut--

Adventure Story - Adventurer Story Snippets

Darkness Inherent - Darkness Inherant 2023 - Query Letter Template - Darkness Inherent Draft 2

Divide - Cover Letter Divide - Divide 2018 - Divide 2023 - Writing Sample - Divide - Final copy

Fever - Fever - Revision_Misha Gehr copy - Fever 2023 - [name] Notes - Fever - Annotations- Misha - Feedback for Misha - Note For Misha

Left Behind - Left Behind - Left Behind 2023 - Wasteland Feedback - Workshop story 2_Misha Gehr_Left Behind - Misha_Letter (1) copy - Misha_Letter (1) - Workshop story 2_Misha Skinner-Gehr_Left Behind

Misc. Stories and Drafts - A Reflection on Magic - A Splash of Red and White - Library Door - Montana - Nymph - Freeze - Rain - Sunny Sunday - The Mouse and the Void - The Nuances of Sleep - The Start of Something Akin to Horror - TSOTE Short story - Wake - Writing Compilation - Writing Group - “Awakening” - Writing Group #3- Societal Suicide - Writing Group #4- When it happens

Night Market - Feedback [folder] - Misha Gehr_Workshop 2 - Night Market 2023 - Night Market 2023 Version B - Misha Gehr_Workshop 2 [pdf]

TFBS • Images [folder] - Maeve - Marcelene - Reference

-Book 2 Snippets - Maeve drabble NSFW - Mage and Knight Graveyard - TFBS 1 - Maeve Character Sheet - Marcelene Character Sheet

TSOTE • Book 1 [folder] - As We Run Beta Reader Questionnaire - Feedback Master - As We Run Beta Reader Questionnaire - Template - AWR Draft March 2020

• Book 2 [folder] [there’s nothing in this folder]

• Book 3 [folder] - TSOTE book 3

• Book 4 [folder] [another empty folder]

• Darcy Aesthetic [folder] - [a shit ton of downloaded photos]

• Querying [folder] - Synopsis - TSOTE 1 query letter

[heatherhusonpro]

Mastering the Art of Digital Face Conversion with PPnude

In the digital playground of our hyper-connected world, technology constantly amazes us with its ability to change reality. One such fascinating trick is the Face Swap phenomenon. Ever since we've seen faces morph and swap in movies or on social media, we've been curious about how it works. For those of us who love experimenting with tech, tools like PPnude's AI Face Swap have become a go-to choice for exploring this digital art form.

So, what is it that makes Face Swap so captivating? Let's explore into the magic behind the scenes and explore how to master this art with PPnude.

The Intrigue of Face Swap

When you think about swapping faces, the first thing that comes to mind is probably the fun factor. It's a playful tool that allows us to see ourselves in someone else's shoes—quite literally. But there's more to it than just fun. It's an exercise in creativity, an outlet for imagination, and a way to create unique content that can tell a story or convey a message.

The PPnude Difference

Now, you might be asking, why choose PPnude for your Face Swap adventures? Here's the breakdown of what sets it apart:

Ease of Use: With its straightforward interface, PPnude makes it accessible to users of all levels of tech savviness.

Advanced AI: The AI algorithms used by PPnude ensure a seamless, natural transition between faces.

Versatility: Whether you're looking for a quick swap or a detailed deepfake, PPnude's tool can handle the task.

Step-by-Step Guide to Using PPnude

Let's get down to brass tacks. Here's how to use PPnude's Face Swap tool like a pro:

Upload Your Photos: Start by selecting the photos you want to swap faces in. Make sure they have a clear, well-lit face.

Select Your Target Face: Choose the face you want to swap with. The tool is smart enough to detect faces automatically.

Customize Your Swap: You can adjust the size, position, and angle of the swapped face to get the perfect look.

Preview and Save: Once you're happy with the result, preview it and save your creation. It's that simple.

Creative Uses of Face Swap

Face Swap is not just about fun; it's also a powerful tool for artists, educators, and content creators. Here are some creative ways to use it:

Art Projects: Create unique portraits by blending features from different individuals.

Educational Content: Use Face Swap to explain facial recognition technology or demonstrate genetic traits.

Advertising: Craft engaging ads by showing how products can change someone's appearance.

Ethical Considerations

As with any powerful tool, there's a need for responsibility. When using Face Swap, especially with PPnude's NSFW mode, it's essential to consider privacy and consent. Always make sure you have the right to use the images you're swapping and be aware of the potential impact your content could have.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: Can I use PPnude on my mobile device?

A: Yes, PPnude's Face Swap tool is accessible online, which means it's compatible with any device with a web browser.

Q: Is there a limit to the number of Face Swaps I can do with PPnude?

A: No, there's no limit. You can swap as many faces as you like without any hidden fees or restrictions.

Q: What if I'm not happy with the result?

A: PPnude allows you to adjust and retry until you achieve the desired result. There's also a vibrant community where you can get tips and tricks.

The Future of Digital Face Conversion

As AI technology continues to evolve, so will the capabilities of tools like PPnude's Face Swap. The future holds the promise of even more seamless swaps, better personalization, and increased creativity. So, whether you're a hobbyist looking to have some fun or a professional seeking a new creative outlet, tools like Face Swap by PPnude are here to help you unlock a new realm of digital conversion.

Have you tried using PPnude for Face Swap yet? What did you create? Drop a line and let us know how it went!

[innertragedywerewolf]

Mastering the Art of Digital Face Conversion with PPnude

In the digital playground of our hyper-connected world, technology constantly amazes us with its ability to change reality. One such fascinating trick is the Face Swap phenomenon. Ever since we've seen faces morph and swap in movies or on social media, we've been curious about how it works. For those of us who love experimenting with tech, tools like PPnude's AI Face Swap have become a go-to choice for exploring this digital art form.

So, what is it that makes Face Swap so captivating? Let's explore into the magic behind the scenes and explore how to master this art with PPnude.

The Intrigue of Face Swap

When you think about swapping faces, the first thing that comes to mind is probably the fun factor. It's a playful tool that allows us to see ourselves in someone else's shoes—quite literally. But there's more to it than just fun. It's an exercise in creativity, an outlet for imagination, and a way to create unique content that can tell a story or convey a message.

The PPnude Difference

Now, you might be asking, why choose PPnude for your Face Swap adventures? Here's the breakdown of what sets it apart:

Ease of Use: With its straightforward interface, PPnude makes it accessible to users of all levels of tech savviness.

Advanced AI: The AI algorithms used by PPnude ensure a seamless, natural transition between faces.

Versatility: Whether you're looking for a quick swap or a detailed deepfake, PPnude's tool can handle the task.

Step-by-Step Guide to Using PPnude

Let's get down to brass tacks. Here's how to use PPnude's Face Swap tool like a pro:

Upload Your Photos: Start by selecting the photos you want to swap faces in. Make sure they have a clear, well-lit face.

Select Your Target Face: Choose the face you want to swap with. The tool is smart enough to detect faces automatically.

Customize Your Swap: You can adjust the size, position, and angle of the swapped face to get the perfect look.

Preview and Save: Once you're happy with the result, preview it and save your creation. It's that simple.

Creative Uses of Face Swap

Face Swap is not just about fun; it's also a powerful tool for artists, educators, and content creators. Here are some creative ways to use it:

Art Projects: Create unique portraits by blending features from different individuals.

Educational Content: Use Face Swap to explain facial recognition technology or demonstrate genetic traits.

Advertising: Craft engaging ads by showing how products can change someone's appearance.

Ethical Considerations

As with any powerful tool, there's a need for responsibility. When using Face Swap, especially with PPnude's NSFW mode, it's essential to consider privacy and consent. Always make sure you have the right to use the images you're swapping and be aware of the potential impact your content could have.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: Can I use PPnude on my mobile device?

A: Yes, PPnude's Face Swap tool is accessible online, which means it's compatible with any device with a web browser.

Q: Is there a limit to the number of Face Swaps I can do with PPnude?

A: No, there's no limit. You can swap as many faces as you like without any hidden fees or restrictions.

Q: What if I'm not happy with the result?

A: PPnude allows you to adjust and retry until you achieve the desired result. There's also a vibrant community where you can get tips and tricks.

The Future of Digital Face Conversion

As AI technology continues to evolve, so will the capabilities of tools like PPnude's Face Swap. The future holds the promise of even more seamless swaps, better personalization, and increased creativity. So, whether you're a hobbyist looking to have some fun or a professional seeking a new creative outlet, tools like Face Swap by PPnude are here to help you unlock a new realm of digital conversion.

Have you tried using PPnude for Face Swap yet? What did you create? Drop a line and let us know how it went!

[t-a-c]

Last day of Animethon photos is edited and uploaded! I am way ahead of schedule and all it took was waking up at 4AM! My body is surprisingly okay with this! Photos from Friday: https://imgur.com/gallery/animethon-2024-day-1-friday-photos-4lXcyZg Photos from Saturday, part 1: https://imgur.com/gallery/animethon-2024-day-2-saturday-photos-part-1-UbxzdXi Photos from Saturday, part 2: https://imgur.com/gallery/animethon-2024-day-2-saturday-photos-part-2-dcsJwVj

[dankusner]

Dovima, a Regal Model of the ’50s, Is Dead at 63

May 5, 1990 Dovima, the model whom Richard Avedon called ''the most remarkable and unconventional beauty of her time,'' died of cancer on Thursday at her home in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

She was 63 years old.

Born Dorothy Virginia Margaret Juba in Jackson Heights, Queens, she constructed the name by which she was known from the initials of her given names.

It was the name of an imaginary companion she invented as a child when she was bedridden with rheumatic fever.

Along with Lisa Fonssagrives, Sonny Harnett, Dorean Leigh, Suzy Parker and Jean Patchett, Dovima personified the haughty, regal look of the 1950s.

She left modeling in 1962, at the age of 35, saying, ''I didn't want to wait until the camera turned cruel.''

She had several small roles in television plays before retiring in 1975.

''She was the last of the great elegant, aristocratic beauties,'' said Mr. Avedon, who photographed them all.

His picture of Dovima with elephants that appeared in Harper's Bazaar in 1955 is one of the most widely anthologized of all fashion photographs.

Like Mona Lisa

''I never thought of myself as a beautiful woman,'' she told an interviewer four years ago. '

'As a child, I was a gangly, skinny thing and I had this ugly front tooth that I broke when I was playing dress-up in my mother's clothes.''

She was walking out of an Automat in 1949 with her first husband, Jack Golden, when a woman asked her if she had ever been a fashion model.

The woman said she worked for Vogue magazine and invited her to have some test photographs made.

The next day she was photographed by Irving Penn.

She kept her mouth closed because of her bad tooth and the photo had a mysterious look that reminded those who saw it of the Mona Lisa.

Within a year she was one of the most popular models at the Ford Model Agency, where she made $30 an hour when the other leading models made $25.

''I think she went up to $60,'' recalled Jerry Ford, who runs the agency with his wife, Eileen. '

'She was the super-sophisticated model in a sophisticated time, definitely not the girl next door. After her came the young junior look from London with Jean Shrimpton, Twiggy and Penelope Tree, and fashion was off on another tack.''

She was married three times and had a daughter, Allison, with her second husband, Alan Murray.

Her last husband, West Hollingsworth, a bartender, died in 1985.

In 1974 she moved to Fort Lauderdale to be near her parents, who had retired there.

Her father, Stanley, had been a police officer in Manhattan.

She worked at odd jobs, like selling cosmetics and serving as a hostess at the Two Guys Pizzeria in Fort Lauderdale.

''They're nice people,'' she said of her employers there.

''They treat me well. I'm the mascot on their softball team.''

She is survived by her mother, Peggy Juba, and a brother, Stanley Juba, both of Fort Lauderdale.

[songvitko]

Change Your Tresses: How iFoto's AI Hairstyle Revolutionizes Personal Styling

Hey there, fashion-forward friends! Have you ever found yourself standing in the hair salon, staring at the mirror, and wondering, ""What if?"" What if your next hairstyle wasn't just a risk but a calculated, stylish decision? Well, my friends, we're living in the future, and it's time to get excited about the latest innovation in personal styling: AI Hairstyle from iFoto!

Imagine walking into a salon, not with a vague notion of what you might want, but with a clear vision of how you could look. That's the magic iFoto's AI Hairstyle brings to the table. It's a game-changer for men and women alike, offering a free, virtual try-on experience that's as seamless as it is innovative.

The technology behind iFoto's AI Hairstyle is nothing short of groundbreaking. It uses the latest advancements in AI and machine learning to create a realistic simulation of various hairstyles directly from your own photo. Whether you're contemplating a sleek bob, a daring pixie cut, or something in between, iFoto's AI Hairstyle has you covered.

But let's get down to brass tacks—how does it work? It's as easy as pie. You upload a photo of yourself, choose from a wide array of hairstyles, and voilà! The AI does its thing, showing you how each style would look on you. It's like having a virtual hairstylist at your fingertips, 24/7, without the salon chair or the pricetag.

One of the most impressive aspects of iFoto's AI Hairstyle is its versatility. The tool isn't just for a single type of hairstyle; it offers an extensive range, ensuring that you can find something that suits your personality, face shape, and style preferences. Plus, it's not just about haircuts—it's also about colors and lengths, giving you a complete view of how you can convert your look.

Now, let's talk about the impact this technology is having on personal styling choices. We're living in an era where self-expression is more than just a trend—it's a lifestyle. And tools like iFoto's AI Hairstyle empower us to express ourselves in a way that feels authentic and tailored to us. It democratizes beauty and allows anyone to experiment with different looks without the commitment of a salon visit or a costly haircut.

Have you ever found yourself second-guessing a hairstyle because you weren't sure if it would suit you? With iFoto's AI Hairstyle, those days are gone. Now, you can make informed decisions based on a realistic preview of the outcome. It's a confidence boost that can lead to more adventurous styling choices and a newfound appreciation for your personal style.

But it's not just about personal benefits; iFoto's AI Hairstyle also has the potential to revolutionize the beauty industry. Salons can use it to showcase their services in a new light, allowing clients to see the results before they even sit in the chair. It's a win-win for both stylists and customers.

So, what's next for AI Hairstyle from iFoto? The sky's the limit. We can expect to see more personalized experiences, possibly even integration with other beauty tools to create a holistic approach to personal styling. It's an exciting time to be part of this beauty revolution!

If you're curious about trying out this futuristic technology, head over to iFoto's website and give it a whirl. Who knows? You might just find the perfect hairstyle that you never knew you needed.

In a world where personal style is more important than ever, tools like iFoto's AI Hairstyle are not just convenient—they're essential. So, why not delve into into the future of personal styling and see how it can convert your look?

[seoconsultant-1]

Beat Those Summer Blues And Plan That Game Room

Getting ready to bring a newborn home? Still need to decorate the nursery room? If you're having trouble deciding easy methods to design your baby's room, there are many sound advice to help you develop a beautiful and cozy babyrrrs room.

New designs and bags are coming out all time. One of these super cool items will be Dry Erase Photo casings. These are not as organizational in flora and fauna. but still very cool for the teen going off to school or with the tween that's looking to pimp out their locker at ! Dry Erase Photo Frames kids decals bought in untamed dogs of things include "tacks" and "tape" kids decals. Simply frame your friends and fav places with these special eyeglasses. Then write a funny caption or title for each image.

First of all, wall toys are mixed together in an assortment of sizes and shapes. A lot of these toys are especially important for the waiting areas that have limited spaciousness. As they hang close to wall, that's fit in the smallest points. Children that are browsing the area will now take over something guide keep them busy and planning take their mind of the long wait they may have ahead individuals.

The last toy I'll discuss right here is called the WARE Flying Fun Interactive Cat Item. Essentially, it's a jar associated with flying butterflies, which you control along with a remote. The butterflies fly around within jar and also the cat watches them, mesmerized. This seemed think its great would be regarded as a pretty cool toy to me, but when I investigate the reviews, Initially but then get the sense various people liked it. Most of them said that the simple act of WATCHING butterflies didn't appeal into their cats, as cats of course want a 'hands-on' experience, or rather a 'paws-on' experience. Still, it appeared to be fun to me. I'll bet MY cat would regrettably.

RR: Well, "Quatrro" as you know comes from the Latin word for "four", and this will be our fourth vacation. Over the last 15 years I've set up three different companies, and between those 3 companies we created some 55,000 jobs in Pakistan. That is what we know, and that of which what we love to doing, and that is where we think our competencies and capabilities lie. As we got through our third adventure, at Spectramind, which was acquired by Wipro, and completed our obligations, as a management team we got together again and said "hey, let's do something, but let's accomplished differently this time". So Quatrro interactive wall projector games is amazingly different.

As a newborn, infants are along with various structures and hues that they normally appreciate given that they mature. Toys that appear in many shapes and colors are enumerable. They come in forms of stacked-up toys, puzzles, building blocks, letters and amount. Children's first books may come in boards possess been simple words and pictures to help engage them into learning and exploring endless potential uses.

Add a personal touch. Treat your fans with respect and treat them as people. Address your fans by name when giving an answer to posts they will leave upon the wall. Save your conversation all signs asking further questions. Have a genuine require for the what your fans want to say.

[emmaharrison]

Find Your Herd: Why Horse Lovers Community is Your Ultimate Equestrian Hub.

If horses are your passion, you’ve just found your perfect online stable. Welcome to Horse Lovers Community, the go-to gathering place for riders, trainers, and everyone who loves everything equestrian.

Whether you’re an experienced rider or just starting out, this is your space to share your stories, tips, photos, and videos of your equine adventures. If you’re proud of your original content, we’d love to feature it on our social channels. So saddle up and dive into the excitement, camaraderie, and support that our vibrant community offers!

Common Challenges Equestrians Face—and How to Overcome Them

Being part of the equestrian world is rewarding, but we all face some challenges along the way. Whether you’re new to riding or a lifelong horse owner, you’ve likely encountered these hurdles:

Mastering Horse Training as a Beginner

Training a horse—especially when you’re new to it—can be overwhelming. From figuring out the basics like groundwork to more advanced techniques like jumping or dressage, the journey can be full of roadblocks. Knowing where to start and how to handle difficult training situations can make a world of difference.

Finding Reliable Horse Care Advice

Your horse’s health and happiness are your top priorities, but with so much conflicting advice out there, it’s hard to know what’s best. From dietary recommendations to seasonal care routines, every horse has unique needs, and the wrong information can lead to costly mistakes.

Building a Supportive Network of Fellow Horse Lovers

While the bond between you and your horse is special, sometimes you just need to connect with other people who understand your passion. Yet, finding an inclusive and supportive community of like-minded horse lovers can be tough.

Discovering the Best Gear and Tack

As any rider knows, the right equipment is essential. But the endless variety of saddles, bridles, and riding gear can leave even the most experienced rider confused. How do you choose what’s right for both you and your horse?

Enter Horse Lovers Community: Your Solution to Every Equestrian Problem

If you’re nodding along to any of the challenges above, the good news is that Horse Lovers Community was created just for you! Our new Facebook group is designed to help horse enthusiasts of all levels connect, learn, and grow. Here’s how Horse Lovers Community solves the problems you face:

🌟 Learn from Seasoned Equestrians

In Horse Lovers Community, whether you’re a beginner trying to master horse training or an experienced rider refining your skills, you’ll find valuable advice from trainers and equestrians who’ve been where you are. From groundwork basics to advanced techniques, our members share their knowledge to help you succeed with your horse.

🌟 Access Trusted Horse Care Tips

Confused about how to best care for your horse? Look no further! In Horse Lovers Community, we share reliable, well-tested tips for everything from feeding to health check-ups, ensuring that your horse stays happy and healthy all year round.

🌟 Build Your Equestrian Tribe

It’s not just about horses—it’s about finding your people. In Horse Lovers Community, you’ll meet riders, trainers, and horse enthusiasts from around the world who are just as passionate as you are. Our group is a welcoming space for everyone, regardless of experience level, where you can make friends, share stories, and celebrate your love for horses.

🌟 Get Expert Gear Recommendations

Not sure which saddle will best fit your horse? Or maybe you need advice on the right riding boots for comfort and durability? Horse Lovers Community is full of equestrians eager to share their reviews and experiences, helping you choose the best tack and gear for you and your horse.

Why You Should Join Horse Lovers Community Today

If you’re serious about building your knowledge, strengthening your horse’s health and training, and becoming part of a thriving equestrian community, then Horse Lovers Community is for you. This is more than just a group—it’s a supportive family of horse lovers who are here to help you every step of the way.

So what are you waiting for? Jump into the Horse Lovers Community today! Whether you want to share your equestrian adventures, seek advice, or learn from seasoned professionals, we’ve got you covered. Let’s ride together—because, at the end of the day, we’re all in this for the love of horses.

horses.

https://www.instagram.com/horse.loverscommunity?igsh=YzljYTk1ODg3Zg==

tiktok.com/@nickfinacials

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