#double-gauze fabric

[sovonight]

why is so much of sewing just tracing and cutting and tracing again q_q i see why people get projectors and use adobe illustrator now

[asthecrowcrafts]

✂️ Project Overview ✂️

Pattern: Wynn by Seamwork (includes plus size options) Size: 6 Fabric: Double gauze cotton Est. Time: 5-6 hrs

🧵 Summary 🧵

Just finished up this Seamwork project. Originally it was going to be a stash buster project, but I ended up not having enough of the grey double gauze to make it work. So I went and picked up the yellow and decided to go for the bifurcated look.

The double gauze ended up being a bigger challenge than I expected. I have only been regularly sewing for about two years, so I stick to woven fabrics pretty religiously. DG is technically woven, but it's so loose it behaves like knit, so it slipped and stretched constantly.

Thankfully, my mother had recently purchased these chalk markers with little rolling wheels at the tip, formally called Chaco Liners from Clover. I was able to trace my pieces on to the fabric before I cut them, which I think really helped things from getting too distorted. (hint: I found these worked way better if the surface under your fabric was a little grippy. If I marked the fabric over a cutting mat the fabric slid around less than if I tried to mark it on the glossier cutting table)

I did alter the pattern slightly to achieve the bifurcated look. I just didn't cut the back piece on the fold, as directed, and then I made sure to add seam allowance to it. I finished that new seam using a french seam to keep all the raw edges tucked away.

I also had a little happy accident, where I lost track of the outer (A) and liner (D) pieces and ended up sewing A to A and D to D. This made it where instead of being perfectly bifurcated, I had the opposite colors as the liners. This ended up working out really well though, because now when I tie the wrap I can keep the bifurcated look by showing the lining color of the wrap end to match the opposite side of the garment.

Overall, I think I am most proud of the sleeves. Particularly the gathers on the grey shoulder.

This was a very simple project and was a lot of fun to make. I look forward to wearing it more once it starts to cool down. (it's 102'F in TX right now 😅)

Happy sewing ✂️🧵✂️🧵,

~ Mrs. Crow

[lucerocosplay]

Shohki Mask Cover

construction notes & photos under the cut

This has been a long time coming! I'm glad she's a costume I can work a mask into without it breaking the design of the character. I feel like people would be less inclined to ask that you remove it for photos this way ^^;

I went with a very thin cotton gauze fabric (#9 "coffee" if you're wondering), think a slightly thicker cheese cloth. It's very breathable as a single layer and seemed the best choice for an N95 cover. The shape was really only achievable with this fabric because of the shape of my mask underneath, and some strategically placed 1/2" wide horsehair braid tubing from the dollar tree. I usually stock up around halloween but they stock around christmas too!

Process is very straight forward, just traced my mask on the fold and made some rough adjustments for a card stock mock up. I like 90-110 lbs for this sort of thing but construction paper can work in a pinch too. Cut that out and fit to my face, tweaked the placement on the nose bridge and added a 1/4" allowance for bias tape/facing, and appropriate allowance for flat felled seams.

The ear tab was extended to cover the mask underneath, and included allowance for support fabric (denim scrap in my case) to support two eyelets intended to thread the elastic of my mask through. Then it was just patterning out the rest of the mask elements and making note of seam allowance and how to cut each piece. I trimmed the tape holding together the card stock mask apart and finally got to cutting out the fabric once that was done.

There isn't anything fancy going on, the hardest part was just the inset mesh panel over the weirdly shaped keyhole cut outs on the mouth piece. It's just black nylon mesh typically used for interfacing bras sewn on after making the keyholes.

This fabric is like if toilet paper were a textile, which is great for breatheability and weight but absolutely hell for machine work like this. It's not for a competition so for me, hiding messy stitching with weathering later was ok.

The portion of the mask running from the underside of each ear tab was finished with homemade bias tape. The same method was used for finishing the top portion that runs over the bridge of my nose. The ends were simply folded and sewn down at the ear tabs for a clean finish.

The side "filters" have an extra 1/2" long extension so I can tack in the ends of some horse hair tubing, then double fold the fabric back into itself before hand tacking with tiny stitches from the outside. That helps the light fabric balloon out into that shape, along with another layer of that same mesh interfacing.

They are really fun actually, very floppy with great movement. Though they stick out a tad too much so I did add one small french tack to the center of each to help them point downwards but retain that movement. The "filter" took the most hand finishing out of the whole thing, but that was to be expected.

Once the little side "filters" were sewn in, there was just light weathering to do. I wanted to add some shadows and potential "mold spores" to certain areas to really make the texture pop and hide some messy stitching. Light passes with a dry brush and some acrylic helped a lot, so did referencing photos of mold growth on clothes.

It was a pass of burnt sienna along all seams and large patches where high humidity would accumulate. Then another lighter pass of burnt umber to deepen up areas, and some very sparse areas of white. Finally I wanted to give it the "blue cheese special" and mixed a little viridian green and that same white and hit the white areas first then dry brushed the spaces between mold patches. I'm trying to replicate active mold colonies so reference photos came in handy here. I also used some nail polish to match the grommets to fabric.

Maybe when I am not crunched for time I will get around to digitizing the pattern, but for now I hope the photos help anyone else trying to plan out a mask. Obviously the shape will change a lot depending on the sort of fabric and mask you have on under it, not to mention face shape. I would imagine bifolds would give you more her classic feed bag profile than an origami style mask, however.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 25: Reconnaissance

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Donnie wakes up first. After a small battle of disorientation, he realizes that he's in his brother's traincar and the odd weight on his stomach is Mikey. He’d forgotten that they’d all made a turtle pile in Raph’s room…

Raph is pressed up against the wall, sleeping on his side with his arms stretched out over his brothers as though he were protecting them in their dreams. Leo is on Dee’s side, clinging to his arm and legs as he desperately tries not to fall off the edge of the bed. Mikey is deep asleep, body sprawled across the three of them — his legs are folded over Raphael, his torso and head are draped across Dee’s stomach, and his arms and tail are hanging over Leo’s side.

Donnie sighs softly, wondering what made Leo and Mikey call for this. Leo seemed pretty serious… and now, looking in the dim light of late morning, he can see loose gauze wrapped around his neck and leg.

Mikey starts muttering in his sleep. His fingers curl across Dee’s plastron, trying to cling to something he can’t hold. His lips purse, his brow furrows. He moans in distress. It’s quiet enough in the room that Donnie can catch a few words he says…

“….Nnnoo… no… no more tests….. please….. I wanna… home……”

Donnie sighs and starts to trace circles on the back of Mikey’s head, hoping the motion will soothe him.

“You’re safe, Mikey. There’s no more tests.”

Mikey somehow hears Donnie in his dreams. His expression relaxes.

“…No… tests…?”

“No more tests,” Donnie repeats, trying not to let his surprise ruin the moment. Maybe he can use this to help Mikey’s dream become calmer… “Mikey, if you can hear me, you’re not in the labs anymore. You’re safe. You’re home.”

Mikey’s head turns, rolling across tummytello as his subconscious tries to adhere to Donnie’s commentary.

“…home…. home……”

Mikey stretches a bit before moving more onto Donatello, his head resting just below Donnie’s chin.

“….is…. is brothers…. home…?”

“Yes, Mikey. We’re home, too.”

“…mmmm…… Mikey loves brothers… Mikey… M-Mike—“

He starts crying in his sleep.

“…mmmm'nsterrr…. m’so sorry……”

Donnie gently wraps his arms over his brother and kisses his head.

“It’s okay.”

“………….hurt…” Mikey croaks.

It isn’t too big of a leap to deduce what Mikey could be sorry for. Leo did not have those injuries when Donnie went to bed. Leo insisting that they have a turtle pile immediately because Mikey needed comforting. Mikey must've hurt him --

It suddenly hits him.

Mikey… hurt him?

‘Monster’…

Donnie turns and looks at Leo again, this time really analyzing the wounds. With one hand, he pulls the wraps around his neck down.

There are bruises. Scratches. Scabs. Claw marks.

His leg is torn up, by the looks of his pants. There are spots and smears of dark brown blood stains on the fabric.

What did Mikey do…?

A horrible thought comes into Donnie’s mind, that maybe Mikey is in a metamorphosis and will soon be completely animalistic and will lose all sense of who he is and —

NO, no, no no no! Stop that! He thinks to himself. Those thoughts aren’t helpful. Mikey is getting better, anyone can see that! He’s speaking in full sentences now, using first person speech instead of talking in the third. He remembers their names, he knows who they are, things are looking up! They just need to give him more time… This isn’t the kind of problem that gets solved overnight or in a week. This is the kind of healing process that takes months, maybe even years. There’s no sense in getting discouraged at the starting line.

Donnie exhales deeply. Mikey rises and falls with his chest. The breathing calms them both down.

“You’re not a monster,” Donnie says. He tries to force himself to believe it. Mikey is no monster…

But what he is now…

…Is no monster either. It’s still Mikey.

He has to believe that. He has to.

Mikey rubs his cheek against Donnie’s plastron, his tail slowly sweeps across him in a lazy wag.

Donnie sighs.

He’s so unbelievably tired…

Maybe he can sleep in a little more, since everyone else is still resting. It must’ve been a late night for them all.

Donnie holds Mikey close and closes his eyes.

.

.

.

Leo is woken when something behind his head makes a deafening buzz in the silence of the room.

In his startle, he falls off the edge of the mattress and lands with a bump onto the floor. He groans, rubbing his bottom in discomfort as he slowly rises to get the phone.

It's not even his, it's Donnie's. Good thing Leo remembers the passcode...

BZZ! INCORRECT PASSKEY.

Maybe he typed it in wrong? He tries again.

BZZ! INCORRECT PASSKEY.

Huh. Dee changed the code. That's not like him. He only ever does this when he's working on a surprise that he doesn't want spoiled, or if something is bugging him...

Fortunately, he doesn't need to unlock the phone to see what the buzzing was for. There's a message on the lockscreen from Casey Jones Jr. in the group chat.

CASEY: GOING OUT TO GET SOME PIZZA FOR YOU GUYS

Leo smiles. That's nice of him. Considering how he's still unfamiliar with this un-kranged, warless New York and is coming to terms with all the changes (good and bad) that came with time travel, going to order and pick up a pizza for a surrogate family is a pretty big step.

Leo's smile fades as he thinks about it more.

Is... is Casey even a part of their family?

Splinter calls him 'future boy', still. It's a term of endearment on Splint's end, but how does Casey feel about it? Donnie treats him like a new teammate, not so much like a friend. From what Casey has said, his Donatello was like an uncle to him. Mikey was some mystic butt-kicking warrior... but Mikey is exempt from this scenario due to recent events. Raph is also exempt, considering that... well, that Casey didn't really know him. He died when Casey was still a little toddler.

Leo swallows the fear that comes with such a thought. He watches Raph, his breathing, slow and steady and clearly visible. Donnie snores with every other breath, his mouth wide open and drooling. Mikey purrs with each exhale, mostly curled on Dee's chest.

He thinks that by watching them, the fear that they could be lost at any time will dissipate. It doesn't. It only grows. How does he know events won't continue as foretold? How does he know that Raph won't die in his twenties? Or that Donnie will die in his thirties? Or that Mikey -- Mikey...

...How does he know that none of them will ever suffer again?

And how does he know that he won't be forced into a decision that takes him away from them all again?

It isn't until Raph starts stirring and groaning that Leo realizes how loud his hyperventilating is, and that he's been crying. He quickly scrambles back onto the bed and wipes his face against the sheets and covers before Raph can see him.

It's quiet.

You up?

Leo sighs, relieved that Raph didn't catch him in his moment of weakness.

Yep. What's up?

How's Mikey? Why did you want to do a cuddle sesh?

Can't a guy just ask to get uncomfortably close to his brothers late at night every once in a while?

Mikey was crying. Why?

Leo sighs, and sits up so Raph can see the bandages.

He had a nightmare and... woke up rough.

Raph's eyes go wide.

Holy $#!%.

Hey! Leo scolds with a smirk. I thought we weren't allowed to swear?

Sorry, sorry, I forgot you could hear my thoughts. Mikey did that...?

Yeah, Leo sighs as he lays back down, arms propped behind his head so he can see still see Raphael's expressions. But it's not that bad. Just some abrasions and bruises... the leg doesn’t even hurt anymore --!

HE GOT YOUR LEG TOO?! Raph yells in his brother's mind, causing Leo to flinch.

Dude! Volume!

Leo, this is serious!

You remember what it was like.

Well... yeah. But seriously, Leo... Are you okay?

Leo pauses to think it through.

I'm... I dunno. Physically, I'll be okay. My leg stings slightly, but that won't last, so I'm not worried. I got it cleaned and bandaged last night before bed. But emotionally? Mentally? I... I can't say yet. I don't know what to say to Mikey about it. We talked before we came in, and... he seemed more hurt by what happened than I did. He's really struggling with this, I think. More than he's letting on.

Raph gets that feeling, too... he sighs. And... he ain't the only one struggling.

What do you mean --?

What're you guys talking about? a third voice asks, entering the private mind call.

The two jump out of their skin, causing Leo to once again tumble out of the bed.

DUDE! What are --

You think I don't know a silent conversation when I see one? Donnie asks incredulously. I practically invented them. What are you two trying to keep secret?

Nothing, just... wanted to talk about Mikey, Leo answers.

...Oh, Donnie replies flatly.

...Uh, anything you want to say? Leo asks, raising a brow at his twin. You sound like you have something to say.

Donnie strokes Mikey's head quietly. His fivehead furrows, he presses his lips together tightly to keep them from quivering.

Raph takes Donnie's freehand, and squeezes it twice. Donnie glances over at him, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. Leo wonders if they're doing a private mind meld on another line, or what. Eventually, Donnie swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut before turning back to his other brother.

.........Leo...... I think there's something that... that I need to tell you...

.

.

.

Bishop groans as he stands in line for his food. He’s so sick of coffee and stale donuts, so he’s decided to go for a signature NYC meal… pizza. Sure, it’s not the recommended meal of an EPF agent, but he’s not so sure he can even call himself an agent anymore.

It’s getting harder to do his job, for many reasons. Professor Honeycutt sent him some footage he managed to download from the drones. They got a blurry frame of Mikey. So now the TCRI know where he is… well, they already knew. Now they just have confirmation. Honeycutt also sent him a single frame of a young human boy. Bishop hadn’t seen him during the initial sighting. Apparently they’d tried facial recognition with the kid, but nothing came up. There was no record of him anywhere. No medical history, birth record, citizenship status, social media profile, internet history, nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

They’ve found one thing of interest.

Apparently Ms. Campbell had uncovered a blurry pic on some social media site taken during the invasion, moments before the destruction of the alien ship.

A young man, swinging across the city with a grappling hook and hockey stick as he fought against the strange monsters and protected the civilians. The caption read ‘PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN’.

The boy from the drone footage was wearing an oversized red hoodie and ripped jeans with sneakers, completely casual clothing and not something you’d typically wear in a mutant-infested sewer.

The mysterious hero was wearing a mask and armor-like attire, so for mere mortals it was difficult to connect the two.

But the build and height was the same. The hair was the same length, colour, and style. But most notably, and most importantly, the thing that really tied them together — was the fact that they both had the same weapon.

Bishop has been studying the face. It’s a bit pixelated and blurry, and the shocked look of surprise makes his expression difficult, but it’s all he has. He’s been focusing on features that are easy to identify — the long hair, the chipped gap in his teeth, and of course the weapon.

Though, the guy wouldn’t be stupid enough to carry the weapon in broad daylight.

Then again, he is just a kid, judging by the looks of him.

Bishop sees his order come out — a heavenly golden slice of mushroom and olives, with a soda and salad to go. He thanks the server, leaves a tip, and turns to exit when a shoulder bumps into him.

"Sorry," they say quickly, shying away from him.

"No worries --"

Bishop freezes when he sees a tuft of navy black hair slip from the hoodie. He analyzes their figure... same height... same build... and a heavy tote bag with the end of what looks like a hockey stick poking out.

The kid keeps their hood up, but offers the server at the counter a handful of dollars and requests a full pizza to go.

"...You know what? I got that," Bishop says, handing his card back to the server. "I'll pay for it."

"Really?" the kid asks, turning to look at Bishop.

Bishop recognizes his face instantly. It is the same person from the drone feed.

And he knows where Mikey is.

"Yeah," Bishop answers him with a smile, "it's no problem. So, where's the party?"

"Huh?"

"You're getting a large pizza, are you gonna eat it all yourself?"

The kid goes stonefaced.

"Yep. All mine. I'm really hungry. Have you never eaten a whole pizza by yourself?"

"Not since I was in college," Bishop says with a dry chuckle. "but after the week I've had, maybe I'll try it again. But I was just wondering. Hey, mind if I ask you a weird question?"

The boy doesn't answer, only grips the strap on his duffle bag. Bishop sees how he carries himself, how he stands tall and straight and feigns his confidence, but not his bravery. This kid is a soldier. Bishop wonders who's been training him to be a soldier as a teen...

Bishop takes out his phone and shows him the video frame of him swinging his hockey stick at the drone.

"Is this you?"

The kid's face goes pale. He swallows softly.

"...Where did you get--" he whispers.

"I think you know," Bishop whispers, taking off his shades. He maintains eye contact to make sure the boy understands the severity of the situation.

The teen takes a step back, but Bishop grabs his wrist.

"Look kid, I'm not here to do anything to you. Or to our mutual friend, Mikey."

The kid's eyes widen.

"Let me go--"

"You're all in danger," Bishop says quickly, quietly. "The EPF and TCRI know what you look like, and that's not all..."

Bishop swipes and shows him the frame of Mikey and the teleporting mutant.

"Leo?" the kid whispers in horror.

He takes the phone and stares at the screen image.

"What... why are you telling me this?" he asks, looking up in fear at the grownup. "What do you want?"

"For Mikey to stay safe," Bishop whispers back. "If the TCRI or the EPF get their hands on Mikey again, they'll end up killing him with their stupid experiments or whatever else they have planned."

"But you're a part of the bad guys," he snaps. "Why should I trust you? What do you have to gain?"

"The EPF isn't supposed to be like this," Bishop defends. "They've corrupted it for their own successes and... it needs to stop. We're trying to take it all down."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me and a friend," Bishop clarifies. "We've been collecting data, smuggling info, gathering evidence. But we can't do it alone. I understand you have a hacker on your side? Likes the colour purple, wants us to 'leave them alone'?"

The kid huffs a chuckle.

"Well, what if I do?"

"We could use their help in collecting some more data. If you agree, I can send you some of our evidence files and some of the studies of the --"

"You said we were in danger," the kid interrupts. "What did you mean by that?"

Bishop halts mid-sentence, realizing he got off topic.

"...Right. They know where you are."

"Hmmph," the kid grumbles. Obviously they do, they have a picture...

"They're sending more drones into the tunnels, but with every wave your hacker friend disables them."

"So where's the danger?" he asks, snarkily.

"Don't you see? You're up against a government-sanctioned board of insane scientists with an army of muscleheads and tech nerds at their disposal. They will not stop until they get Mikey back."

"I've been up against worse," he answers. The tone in his voice makes Bishop believe him completely.

"I'm sure. But kid, this isn't to be taken lightly. They're coming for you. Whether by drone or drill, they will be attacking soon."

"So then, what do you suggest we do?" he asks.

His voice is accusatory, and Bishop can't blame him.

He's the one that told them where Mikey was...

Bishop heaves a heavy sigh.

"...Mikey has a tracker imbedded somewhere under his skin. I don't know where, but that's how we found him."

"WHAT?!" the kid growls. "You tagged him??"

"Yes, and you need to find that tracker and disable it immediately. Then, move out. Find some new place to hide. Anywhere. Keep it secretive. They'll be keeping an eye out for you specifically and your blue-green friend here with the portals. Is there anywhere you can go?"

The kid's eyes dart away as he thinks it over.

"...Well, in the meantime --" Bishop takes out a small scrap of paper and quickly writes on it. "-- here's my info. If you need anything, I'll be in touch. Oh, and if you or your hacker friend should decide to help us out to take down the EPF/TCRI, then here's my email... as well as my friend's contact info..."

The kid looks down at the paper as Bishop writes on it. His eyes suddenly go wide.

"YOU'RE John Bishop?!" he asks, flabbergasted.

"Yes, I am," he says quickly.

Maybe the hacker found his info and warned them about him...

"...And my friend is Professor Zayton Honeycutt, he's a robotics engineer in the TCRI. He's a little jumpy, but a good egg."

Bishop hands the scrap of paper to the boy, whose jaw is still dropped.

"I'll be seeing you around, kid," he whispers as he places his glasses back on and walks out. "Stay safe. Enjoy the pizza."

The teen watches him, almost starstruck as if he were some celebrity.

Bishop guesses his reputation proceeds him... but how does this kid know him?

Prev || Next

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

10 days ago, I decided I would get started on that linen summer dress with the swooshy skirt I've had all the materials for since last summer. So, naturally, 9 days ago, I did unspeakable things in a text editor software to reformat this free Apex Legends Nessie pattern by Jackalodreams on Deviantadt so most pieces fit on less pages. Then I printed it at 200%, taped the pieces together and... Things got a bit out of hand.

Long story short, I've got a new purse, and it made at least three separate adults who saw it smile squeal in public.

Construction notes after the break!

I think it only took me an evening or two to make, the main thing was getting all the materials. Zipper is from a duvet, all other hardware, eyes included, are 3D printed with PLA. (Pro tip: don't size up safety eye STL files unless you have a way to size up your fabric thickness accordingly.) Patches are mostly from stash, as is the lining (just some random jersey) and belly fabric (basic double gauze). Body is a fuzzy blanket I found on clearance. Tag is a piece of cotton calico with some quick and dirty hand embroidery on it.

Getting the tag, zipper and D-ring caught in the butt seam made me fear for my little Brother sewing machine, so maybe don't do what I did there. I didn't have the patience to figure out something else, and I didn't not want to put in a tag. Still, all the fabric edges are finished, every seam is locked, the patches are sewn on instead of ironed on, so this thing, when empty, should be machine washable at 30°C.

This deceptive little beastie took an entire 400g bag of polyfill to get structurally sound, even with the pouch pre-filled with way more things than I expected would fit. It's a pretty practical size inside for everyday errands. It came out extremely squishy, to the point that I could probably use it as a pillow on a long drive or train ride. The different textures of eyes, patches, tag, body and belly go together nicely.

The shoulder strap was borrowed for about an hour from my wife's purse (thank you, sweetie!) when Hermes smiled down upon us and had us catch one market stall selling fashion straps that was several hours late in packing up and closing. (Lesson learned: drinking a can of Monster before running small errands is a good thing.) Don't have pictures of the new one yet.

It's the size of a medium-large plush, so not ideal for tiny stores while wearing a thick winter coat, but otherwise it did quite well on its first outing.

Just gotta attach the zipper pull with a jump ring, as the sewed on McGyvering I've got right now isn't the most practical.

[blitzyn]

special attention pt.2

dottore x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: He was the last person you thought you'd see at your front doorstep when you returned home after a particularly exhausting mission.

first part | third part

a/n -> part 2 i guess? where he sees reader again

wc -> 2.2k

cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, non-descriptive injuries, blood, reader is a masochist, dottore is a sadist, deep throating, face fucking

You sighed in relief at the comfort of your home, finally returning after your especially exhausting mission. Some idiot revealed the location of one of your more valuable bases to treasure hoarders and, subsequently, local authorities. Normally, you’d be able to handle your own efficiently, but the sheer amount of people brought was enough to overwhelm your entire group.

You managed to handle most of them, but a few others had the chance to hit or stab you in more unguarded areas. Truthfully, you were livid. Everything could have been prevented if he was more careful; now you’d have to return to work soon with injuries that may only grow worse. And you’d have to deal with the issues concerning the now vulnerable base - but if you manage to shift the blame, maybe your punishment would be lighter.

You limped to your room after gathering gauze, a wet rag, and bandages from your bathroom. Settling on your bed, you were in the process of carefully removing your clothing before a knock sounded through your house. With a loud groan, you got back up and hobbled to the front door. Your eyes widened a fraction when you faced a familiar figure.

Instantly, you dropped to kneel. “My Lord. I was not expecting you here.”

“I’d be surprised if you did,” he said. “Face me.”

You struggled to rise, feeling your wounds throb underneath your clothes.

“My, you’re a mess,” he teased, much to your embarrassment.

Your voice slightly waivered, “I apologize. I had just returned from my mission.”

“It must have been a difficult one if someone like you sustained those injuries,” he scanned your body. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” you hurriedly moved out of the way to let him inside, closing the door after him. You subtly fidgeted - what did he think about your home? This was the first time you’d let anyone inside your safe space, so this was quite a new and uncomfortable experience for you.

“Have you already tended to your wounds?” he questioned, earning a shake of your head in reply.

“No. I was about to until you knocked.” you lead the way to your room, where your supplies waited.

“Let me help you, then,” he made you strip, to your surprise. He stared at you. “It’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”

You felt your face heat up as you took your clothes off, focusing on the way your cuts stung to avert your attention. A light grimace overtook your features when the fabric rubbed against them, letting out a sigh when everything was removed.

“You haven’t done your briefing yet,” he stated, cleaning some wounds on your arm. “Might as well do it now.”

You nodded. “I managed to finish my patrol around Fort 28 and double checked that the valuable supplies were well-secured before returning to the entrance. I noticed that Officer Belyaev was walking along the path back to the base, which I hadn’t granted his permission to leave.”

Dottore shifted himself so he faced your back. “I heard him boasting about something to who I assume was his friend when a squad of treasure hoarders ambushed us. It was easy work getting rid of them, but the noise must have alerted nearby authorities. They have been meaning to - ah!”

Your back arched away from the doctor when a particularly harsh sting struck your nerves. You could hear the unhidden amusement in his voice when he told you to continue.

“Right. They have been meaning to find a plausible way to get rid of us for a while now, so I suppose that ‘disturbing the peace’ was enough of an excuse. They are no doubt going to attempt to remove the base with brute force now that we’ve attacked citizens, as they put it, so I’ll need to find a new spot soon.”

“That certainly sounds like quite the hassle,” he said while returning back to your front. “I do hope you manage to pull that off.”

“We wouldn’t want you to be punished, after all,” he gave you a smirk after seeing you look away, clearly dreading the outcome if you couldn’t achieve the best possible results.

“I will do my best, my Lord,” you promised.

“I expect nothing less.”

He moved on to the cuts on your legs, starting at the back of your left calf. He gradually worked his way up, finally reaching your thighs. You looked at anything that wasn’t him and his skilled hands, focusing hard on where you would need to place the fort. But as he tightened the bandage, a sharp pain traveled through your body, and you couldn’t help but look down.

Your throat closed as you stared at him kneeled in between your thighs, his gloved hands gliding over your skin, lingering just a little too long before moving onto the next wound. The way he firmly held onto the plush flesh reminded you of your time in his office not too long ago, new thoughts slowly beginning to occupy your mind.

A seed of humiliation was planted deep into your chest that bloomed into a large flower of shame the harder your cock got. You looked elsewhere again, wishing your erection would go away.

"I haven't done anything and you're already aroused?" He tilted his head up to look at you. "Just how pathetic can you get?"

The hand on your thigh moved up to palm you through your underwear. You made no change in your expression, but the way you throbbed under his touch was more than enough to relay your thoughts. He could see your body tense, and removed his hand before anything else happened..

"Don't you think I deserve a little reward?" he questioned, standing up to remove the various layers of clothing on him. You swapped positions as soon as he finished, lightly moving some away to avoid kneeling on it.

You swallowed nervously as you peered up at him, unsure where to put your hands so you opted to leave them on your thighs. This was the first time you'd ever seen him shirtless, and you wanted to take in the sight for as long as you could.

His torso was littered in countless scars, no doubt from various different encounters and experiences. They grew in number at his forearms and hands, most likely from hands-on incidents gone wrong. You noticed a long scar that ran diagonally from his thumb to his pinky finger, but you couldn't ponder about it when he spoke.

"Well? Go on."

"Apologies." You held the base of his semi-hard cock and gave a lick up to the tip before taking it in your mouth. You gave a brief suck to the head before dragging your tongue down the side, tracing a prominent vein. You moved back up and flattened your tongue along the underside of his cock to take him in your mouth again. You pushed more of him into you, hollowing your cheeks, and swallowing a spurt of precum. You steadily bobbed your head, carefully going deeper and deeper. The drool that escaped your mouth provided efficient enough lube for you to jerk off what you couldn’t get.

You looked off to the side, letting memory please the Harbinger, which allowed you to think about where you should replace the fort.

“I had it made near the entrance of some ruins,” you thought. “So maybe, with enough effort, I can put it further in, and hide it in plain sight?”

It was obvious to him that you were zoned out - you had even begun to slow down without knowing it. That would not do. He needed your attention on him.

He snaked a hand through your hair and rested it on the back of your head. He waited a moment for you to look at him in question before shoving you down. He let out a long, satisfied sigh as you choked on his dick, which only spurred him on to force you deeper. Your wide eyes watered with every gag you made, chest aching.

As much as your body screamed at you to struggle against him in reflex, you fought those instincts and allowed him to do whatever he wanted with your throat. He did not stop pushing your head down until you were pressed against his pelvis, your nose brushing against his pubic hair. His scent had you yearning for more, rendering you utterly intoxicated - as absurd as that seemed. Your cock strained against your underwear, staining the fabric with a growing spot of your precum.

His calloused fingers curled in your hair to drag you back up. He shifted himself so his other arm held him up on the bed, hips raised, before thrusting into your throat. You countered your gag reflex as much as you could with a hum and provided him additional stimulation - which he expressed his approval with a slight moan. Killing two birds with one stone, you supposed.

The occasional gag, low grunts, and skin slapping filled your room as he fucked your throat open. His thrusts were punishing and harsh. Drool slipped from your mouth and traveled down your chin and throat in thick streams. It was getting harder to breathe with the sheer amount of saliva that pooled in your mouth.

Your chest tightened, mind beginning to haze over with the need for air, but honestly? You couldn’t care less. You were too busy entranced with the way his abs flexed with every thrust, noticing the vein on his bicep that became more visible the tighter he held your hair. Black dots collected at the corners of your shrinking vision.

You moaned as he finally stilled, keeping your face flush with his pelvis as he came. The groan he let out could be enough to fuel your orgasm alone. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his cock throb, near countless amounts of cum flowing down your esophagus, and you tried your best to swallow it all.

You were on the brink of passing out when he pulled out, letting you take in large gulps of air. Your cheek rested on his thigh, eyes half-lidded and unfocused.

He let you regain your composure before grabbing you by your arm to lay on the bed. You were positioned face down, ass up. You heard him shuffle around for a moment before he returned to your side, holding a small vial of lube in one hand. Why did he have that? Was this his original intention?

You were about to take off your underwear when he impatiently sighed and pulled it off of you himself.

He poured half of the fluid on his fingers and inserted two inside you, the burn making you tighten unexpectedly. He moved them in a scissoring motion.  You let out breathy moans, but winced at how raw your throat felt. His free hand wrapped around your neglected cock. A surge of electricity shot up your spine as the coil in your abdomen snapped.

Dottore chuckled as you hid your face in your pillow.

He removed his fingers and positioned himself behind you, pushing his dick inside you. You moaned at the stretch, shifting yourself to rest on your hands. Every exhale you let out was practically a whine.

He had a firm grip on your hips as he started to thrust, gradually going faster and faster until your headboard began striking the wall. He was not gentle - no pity for the jolting body below him. You could barely hear him muttering over your whorish moans; something about you being tight? You couldn’t tell. But you knew it was in the positive direction with the way he twitched and throbbed inside you.

The creaking of your bed was drowned out by the skin slapping and moans - and you hoped nobody could hear.

“W-Wait! Ah!” you yelped in alarm when you felt a sharp sting in one of your legs. You noticed that your wound began bleeding again, but that wasn’t enough to deter Dottore. In fact, you noticed him reach a hand down to the bandage and press, staining his hand with your blood. The pain coursed through your body in a quick succession that ended in fueling the fire in your groin.

“Pl-Please let me cum, my L-Lord,” you cursed under your breath.

“You may,” he allowed, much to your relief. You weren’t sure how long you’d last if he didn’t. With a scream, you tensed as ropes of your semen stained your bed. He groaned alongside you as he pushed his cock as far as he could inside you, cumming. You took this time to catch your breath, arms relaxing.

You trembled as he pulled out, flopping on the bed as soon as he fully removed himself. Your eyes widened when you saw his lips; they were colored a light red, but you didn’t comment on it. As your high wore off, the dull throbbing from your wounds turned into sharp aches.

You were far too tired to see the Harbinger off, but you were lucky he didn’t seem to mind. With a low hum that fueled your need to sleep, he put his clothes back on and looked back at you. He decided to redo your bloody bandages before he left - he wasn’t that mean.

cross-posted on ao3

[jordyn-degas]

Never again.

Characters: Trafalgar Law x fem! reader

Warnings: first piece for Law bc I couldn't hold it in anymore - he's literally consuming every single brain cell; light smut - MDNI; depiction of cuts, bruises and blood; reader is held by Caesar; Law takes care of you - in more ways than one 😏; slow paced in a way; emotions and feels; implied decision of self-sacrifice; reader is sold to the highest bidder; restriction of free will; double entendre between Law & reader - men and their feelings; i think i described it heavier than it actually is - sorry 😅; moody and broody? absolutely lovable. Spoilers: if you haven't reached Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, you will stumble upon new characters under the cut. Read at your own risk.

italic font - past; regular font - present

Taglist: i'm tagging you in everything at this point @uchihabbynic 😅 i need you in my corner since i started down the One Piece path 🤤

Softness of familiar fingers brushed along the skin of your back carefully, goosebumps peeking through at the care with which you were handled. Along the trail of a touch that was not foreign anymore, after six horrendous months, came the thin, translucent fabric that has been adorning your body all this time. Cuts and bruises, unorthodox surgeries and an inhuman amount of tests defined the life you had been living in captivity.

On the God forsaken island of Punk Hazard where a mad scientist resided, the author of each scar that was going to serve as a reminder for the rest of your life, a seed of hope developed with each passing day, blooming into moments of peace, comfort and quiet. It was all because of a man that was entrusted with keeping you alive enough to carry on with being a subject, armed with medicine and gauze along with a pair of gray eyes that seemed lost somewhere in time, in a point he was unable to return – pure coldness masking anger and sadness, a wall built on a life that hasn’t been kind.

“Don’t sleep on your back tonight.” Trafalgar Law, the infamous Surgeon of Death and one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, broke the comfortable silence while carefully wrapping the gauze around your arm.

“I’ll sleep on the side.” tired sigh slipped past your chapped lips, hooded gaze eyeing the monitor on the other side of the room where it displayed vital signs that were barely above the limit – monitored day and night.

“Caesar went in again.” he concluded watching how your shoulders caved in as if trying to hide whatever gruesome cut was in the front.

“It’s fine.” hand lazily reached for the oversized shirt resting on the pillow, one belonging to a subject that has been dead for more than three months now. “I’m so used to it by now that I don’t feel the pain as much.”

Fingers dipped into the abrasive material from all the clumsy hand washing, patches that have been sown up again and again pushing against the skin as a reminder that this has probably been worn by many before you. Looking into the lap, sudden shame bloomed seeing your legs completely riddled with old and new scars, damaged skin peeking from under the shorts, its disgusting aspect crawling upwards across the navel where it was met with various vertical and horizontal cuts that reached around your middle.

Pulling at the shirt to bring it closer, the warmth of Law’s hand engulfed your wrist, freezing immediately feeling the most skin to skin contact you’ve had in months. A sense of urgency pooled into a silent plea, tension being released through the pads of his fingers, as if silently telling you to wait, to stop and accept yet again his help. As he walked around the bed on which you were sitting, arms quickly shot upwards, hands clasping at the shoulders in an attempt to hide what was now one of the most deep, long and wide cuts your chest had survived. It was far from being the first time in which Law has seen you completely bare from head to toe, needed when the damage was too great to stumble over such mundane concerns – he was a doctor after all.

“Tch! How is this fine, Y/N-ya?” Law grumbled with utmost annoyance, chair grazing harshly against the floor while being brought in front of you. “You’re hemorrhaging.”

“I’m not made of glass, Trafalgar.” bark but no bite being all that you could muster at almost 1 am, after a long day of being a guinea pig. 

Holding back a reply fit for the smart ass you labeled him as, Law’s jaw clenched shut watching the woman that fought the pain right before his very eyes. Six full months of constantly providing postoperative care, trying to the best of his ability to place back together what others broke, at first considering it to be a tedious request from Caesar. That until he allowed himself to get to know the mysterious patient no one was allowed to talk to, you so casually striking up a conversation while barely able to breathe – kind eyes and soft smile.

Unknowingly to both of you, as each day passed, seeds were planted somewhere deep into hearts that deemed themselves unfit to live freely, to know peace or love, to feel care or happiness. Extra medicine was being sneaked under Law’s jacket, followed by books, warm tea and food – hours passing by with ease when in the presence of each other. There was no need for conversation, being in the same room making the air of this hellhole of an island a bit more breathable. 

“Y/N-ya.” Law’s deep, soothing voice pooled into your ears with calmness, gaze falling on his open palm in which a roll of gauze waited. “Let me.”

“This time is really bad, Law.” defeated whisper made its way out of the dryness of your mouth, head raising, gaze being met with the familiar pair of gray eyes in which you found comfort and compassion. “I’m horrendous, disgusting, a sight that would ..”

“You’re not.” bitter sentence being cut off abruptly, Law’s proximity and intense stare causing for your arms to slowly drop on each side, breasts exposed to the coolness of the room as his focus switched from your face and on the bleeding cut that stretched from under the neck, stopping in the middle of the abdomen – for the first time since being examined by him, blood rushed into the cheeks, causing you to blush profusely. “Have you finished the book I brought last week?”

Calloused hand found its purchase against your cheek, powerful slap causing the neck to snap painfully, the taste of blood coating your taste buds. Bare feet felt relief while touching the expensive carpet adorning the stone flooring of Dressrosa’s Royal Palace. Fingers wrapped tightly against the two blades you held, entire body trembling from head to toe with anger and fear, jaw clenched shut in an attempt to fight the harsh reality.

“Bought for my free use, indeed.” Don Quixote Doflamingo’s vicious chuckle bounced off the walls, lips and teeth morphing into a malicious grin. “Worth all the money for this moment right here.”

Horror and shock adorned Law’s features, Sea Prism Stone shackles binding him to the royal chair, hands balled up into tight fists when met with Doflamingo’s most prized possession in this war against him – you. Chest began heaving at the sight, forcing himself to remain as calm and calculated as possible, trying to ignore the all too familiar instinct of protecting you in favor of putting the pieces of the puzzle together, unable to slip past the constant thought that bloomed into both of your minds: a year and two months since being sold by Caesar only to find each other here.

Tears pricked at your eyes seeing Law so close, yet so far, pangs of guilt booming into the chest knowing you have not kept the promise made before your departure.

I promise to stay safe until you come after me.

Evil laughter filled the room, Doflamingo and his acolytes watching with delight as two people representing each other’s weaknesses were the prisoners of his mercy.

“Did you really think that Caesar didn’t know about you two?” Doflamingo’s tonality carrying mockery from beginning to end, fingers dancing into the air as your arms suddenly raised with the blades in a position to attack. “He gave me everything I needed to know, to use when the time was right.”

Law was still stuck between past and present as he could not see, through the teared clothes, all the scars that once mapped out all the pain you’ve been through. The woman he met in Punk Hazard completely disheveled, beyond repair at first glance, bore no resemblance to the one standing before his eyes. Looking past the dried up blood as a result from the slap, skin was glowing with a smoothness that has never been there, no longer sickly and battered, lips pinched with a healthy color, cheeks dusted with the bright blush of life — one he hasn’t seen in so long it had his heart race at the sight.

Even with the eerie calmness Law seemed to be displaying, you knew exactly what he was thinking with the way his gray gaze was doing its rounds up and down your figure. After the time spent together, after all the conversations and nights where you thought no one knew about, you could easily read the man that took up all the space available in your cold heart. The broken woman he got to see in any shape and form was no longer there — healthy from head to toe, used because she was doomed to fall in love with him.

“What did you do?!” a dangerous growl ruptured from the back of Law’s throat when met with a stupidly low temperature in the room along with your bare body only wrapped in a flimsy sheet – Caesar was punishing you.

“I-I r-r-refu-used-d-d ..” teeth clashed against each other repeatedly, violent chills shaking your form while sitting on the bed all balled up. “ .. I f-f-fought ..”

Tears grazed the sensitive skin of your cheeks, blood concentrating into keeping a weak body warm, anger and disappointment lacing the voice of the woman to which Law rushed a split second. For the first time since being here, he decided to risk his own plan for this unknown woman that worked its way under his skin in less than a month since meeting her – 7 months later since he first laid eyes on you, warmth, care and an unnamed feeling gnawed mercilessly at his soul.

Judging by the way risky purple pinched parts of your body, Law knew the shock of hypothermia was close to hitting. The warmth that engulfed you at his proximity called for rash decisions, sheet dropping as you wrapped around his body as a moth drawn to bright light. Tensing briefly at the contact, Law relaxed immediately thereafter, feeling your arms sneaking under the jacket, face buried deeply into the crook of his neck, pleasured sigh escaping feeling the desperately craved warmth. Cold lips brushed past the pulse point that was throbbing, his eyes dipping along the curvature of your back and quickly switching their focus when met with the waistband of the only piece of fabric covering the lower part of your body.

“‘m sorry.” shaky whisper laced with sadness graced the silence as, instinctively, Law’s arms wrapped around you tightly. “m so cold.”

“Don’t worry.” Law’s own whisper brushed past your ear, masking the foreign satisfaction he felt of having you in his arms.

Not even realizing what was happening, warmth suddenly tugged at your skin, feeling how life rushed throughout the body, able to hear again heartbeats that seemed to not be there a few seconds ago. Feet left the floor, legs wrapping around your savior’s waist in an attempt to absorb even more from the essence of life. Head raised slightly, you were met with a foreign room, eyes coming in contact with a wall filled with bookshelves, desk holding perfectly organized papers to the side and a closet. There was cozy light, senses pinched with the scents of Punk Hazard’s winter and pristine freshness, detecting with ease the faint citrus smell of a familiar hand soap — Law’s room.

“Let me.” Law spoke calmly as your feet touched the floor, gray eyes completely focused on yours, arms raising on their accord on which he slid one of the fresh t-shirts that rested on the bed. “You’re sleeping here.”

“What about Caesar?” shiver ran across the length of your spine at the mere thought of not being found in your usual room and putting Law in a danger neither needed. “What about you?”

Looking through hooded eyes, Law chose to answer with silence, walking up to the desk and placing his jacket on the back of the chair before sitting on it with a quiet sigh. Without another word, taking his entire demeanor as a hint, bare feet slapped against the floor but not in the direction he thought. Law was met with a stretched out arm, palm wide open, eyes falling on the stitches surrounding your wrist. 

The soft smile adorning your features had yet another knot form into the throat, one that began appearing quite often whenever he would hear your carefree laugh despite the situation in which you have been for months. Reluctantly, Law placed his hand into yours, both knowing that whatever has been building in the darkness of Caesar’s laboratory could not end with rainbows and fireworks. However, who doesn’t crave the sweet taste of happiness and peace from time to time?

“You need to rest.” was the only sane thing Law managed to say, trying to ignore how good you were capable of looking in his t-shirt, taking off his signature hat and throwing it on the desk.

“So do you.” soft notes filled with warmth and care pricked his senses, mattress dipping as you both slid under the covers.

It was one of those moments in which everything ceased to exist — Law forgetting to put up his reinforced walls meant to keep people out, allowing himself to care, to feel, much more than ever before, while you forgot that maybe tomorrow you’ll meet the end Caesar has threatened you with, grasping at a hope that came in the form of a broody, grumpy man that did nothing but to show the other face of humanity.

Tears bubbled into your eyes at the feeling of being comfortable again, of feeling pure warmth that came from another person, of bathing into an unspoken care, heartbeats thumping loudly enough for the man to hear them. His eyes did not leave your face for a single second, fighting between the harsh reality and the onslaught of feelings that began taking over with each second spent so close to you. They felt foreign, yet familiar and comfortable, fingers twitching with the sudden need to touch you.

Ignoring any sense of sanity, your body moved on its own accord, hands working quickly the material that stood between you and Law’s upper body. When he did not protest, steel eyes still trained on your features, arms wrapped around his neck, pulling both bodies flush against each other – skin memorizing the tattoos that adorned his chest and body as if wanting to carry a version of him with you forever.

Quiet gasp rolled off Law’s lips at the closeness, absolutely bewildered with how normal it all felt, as if being with you for years on end.

“Need your warmth.” emotions filled voice cut through the silence, trying to not break down feeling his body melting against yours, arms sneaking around the middle, being pulled even deeper into the man that awakened the feeling you were afraid to name.

Law could feel the tip of his ears burning, fingers twitching as they dipped into the material of the t-shirt covering your body, tightening their grip on it when realizing this was the only place in which you were capable of finding comfort and safety. There was no room for uncertainty at this point, both diving too deep into something that should have not existed in the first place, grasping at straws of a hope neither could guarantee – falling for each other on this God forsaken island, in the darkness of Caesar’s laboratory, a place where dreams went on to die along with their owners.

Timid attraction began closing the gap between your lips, Law’s eyes darting to yours and back up, searching for any bit of hesitation, barely able to hold it together as the warmth of your breaths clashed. Hot fingertips carved their path in between his shoulder blades, traveling upwards across the nape of his neck, slight shiver rocking Law’s body at the intimate gesture, before your fingers found purchase into the softness of his dark hair. Arm wrapped tightly around the waist moved to grab at the flesh of your thigh, leg being carefully placed over his middle, both watching each other in comfortable silence, any rational thought slipping out and making room for nothing but yearning, suffocating want and need to feel loved.

“Y/N-ya.” Law’s last attempt at being calculated, protective and sane about the situation, was completely thrown out the moment a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“I’m sure.” confidence laced the words, lips hovering over each other, waiting for the moment in which all the walls would crumble to the ground. “Are you?”

The reply came in the form of a haze clouding your brain completely, pieces of a broken heart meeting yet again in their rightful place as Law’s lips melted against yours – warm, soft, careful, timid even. It felt as if getting acquainted with each other for the first time, yet familiar and safe, somehow knowing what one meant to the other long before even having the chance to meet. Tongues slipped past the feverish lips, dancing on a slow, tender rhythm, breaths picking up their paces with each passing second spent entangled. Fingertips dipped even deeper into the flesh of your thigh, body arching into his, wishing to be absorbed and consumed completely by no else but him.

Through needy, passion filled kisses, the mattress dipped again as Law switched his weight, settling your body under his with ease, forearms on each side of your head, legs spreading to accommodate the man in between them, shaky sigh being released when feeling the protruding bulge pressing against the visible wet spot of your underwear. Hips began moving on their own accord, demanding more through the clothed friction which caused the Surgeon of Death to allow a low groan to escape against your lips. Needy whimper betrayed the state in which you found yourself the moment he stood up, knees digging into the mattress, expert fingers quickly working under the oversized t-shirt you wore, hooking them into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and off the legs slowly, calculated, as if giving you time to change your mind on something that was bound to seal two fates together.

“Don’t.” hand grabbed at Law’s wrist, stopping him from removing the last piece of clothing that would reveal what you had become in its entirety.

“I already know ..” steel gaze pierced through the depths of a soul that had known nothing but loneliness and fear until meeting another, until him – warmth and kindness pooled into the eyes of the man that used to show nothing but eerie calmness and coldness. “.. you.”

Trembling hand released its grip, allowing Law to carefully pull the t-shirt off your body, eyes shutting in anger knowing what laid before him – the ruins of an unfinished experiment. Shuffles could be heard, slight movements of the bed being the only thing you could distinguish while refusing to see what was happening. As shame began to wash over you, mouth opened to let out a gasp of surprise, feeling soft lips pressing against the abdomen, traveling upwards in slow motions. Was he kissing along your scars?

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes, fighting to push them as far as possible realizing what was happening, deciding to timidly look. Blurry vision opened to see that Law’s pants were gone, the only thing separating the two of you being a pair of black briefs, gaze moving its focus to the man that did not miss one scar, each holding a care filled kiss, one hand clasped on your thigh while the other was smoothing along the ribs, soothing away the shame that began to die out. Head tilted upwards, erratic breaths slipping into the air as his lips traveled along the scar in between your breasts, own fingers making their way back into the softness of his dark hair, tugging slightly when he moved to the sides, tongue flicking shamelessly at each pebbled bud, the first broken moan of the night bouncing off the walls.

Law’s hand released its grip on the thigh, tickling at the sensitive skin as it traveled down the valley in between your legs, groan escaping from the open mouth which caught your high pitched moan when his long, tattooed fingers slipped in between slick coated folds. You were pooling into his palm, heavily swallowing the knot formed at the mere idea that it was all because of him, watching how your gaze became hooded when the first finger went in with a bewildering ease, chest heaving from the arousal, Law’s lips stealing feverish kisses and broken moans.

“m-more.” breathless plea had Law’s length twitch violently into the cotton confinement, jaw clenching feeling the uncomfortable hardness, second finger going in without a second thought. “A-ah!’

Hips began rolling instinctively against him, arousal dripping profusely, teeth clenching on Law’s bottom lip as nails dug into the skin of his back. Both fingers slipped out, covered completely in your wetness as they slowly made their way on that, oh, so sweet spot, gently circling it while applying the pressure that had you choke on your own breath. Law’s hand flew to the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down in one swift motion, quiet gasp crashing against your moans when hit with the warmth of the room.

Not resisting the urge, foreheads pressed together, your gaze dipped in between the legs, mouthwatering sight wiping all that has happened up until this point – heavy, of an impressionable size, cock twitched at the attention, leaking with arousal. Legs wrapped around Law’s waist, the small smirk tugging at his lips not going unnoticed, pushing it into submission with a small peck. Two gazes lost into each other, Law slowly guided himself towards your welcoming heat, following how your eyes began widening, jaw falling slack as the tip pushed through the muscle ring that twitched at the sensation. His own were screwed shut for a brief moment, mentally cursing at how tight you felt despite the pool of arousal in between your legs.

“Fuck!” both lost the little control that remained behind, word escaping at the same time the moment he bottomed out completely, gummy walls pulsating around his shaft.

Languid strokes turned your body to mush, melting into the sheets at the sensation of being so full of him, legs tightening their grip around Law’s waist, nails and fingertips pressing into his back with hunger, unable to look anywhere but at the man stealing whatever was left of your sanity, the man that, with each sensual roll of his hips, was tearing down the walls both have fought to keep up.

Pace picked up only slightly as you angled your hips higher, guttural moan escaping Law at the change, forearm pressing into the pillow as the other hand moved to take yours, fingers intertwining above your head between sinful sounds and heavy panting. Head fell to the side, teeth nipping at the skin of your arm from the bewildering pleasure that coursed throughout the body.

“Eyes on me, love.” Law rasped while trying to control himself feeling the way you clenched and twitched, gaze falling on your heaving chest, breasts bouncing lightly with each delicious drag of his cock, skin flushed and filled with goosebumps being an image burned forever in his mind.

Hearing Law’s words, head snapped back to be met with a hooded, gray gaze that glinted with an unrecognizable emotion. Hand tightened its grip on his at the sight, the man pulling moan after moan as he was capable of reaching so far deep into your aching core. Realization hit like a ton of bricks, Law’s forehead pressing against yours, feverish, passionate kisses being stolen in between breathless releases of pleasure – you were so in love with the man it had your heart being squeezed with love and pain, wanting nothing more than to live, than to be capable of surviving enough to get out of here and simply be.

Be with him.

“L-Law .. I lo ..” words died out into the throat when lips crashed against one another, each stroke of his cock in and out of your heat becoming more intense, more sensual, filled with something more than yearning, passion and attraction.

“I know.” Law’s shaky whisper hit in all the right places, forearm moving for its fingers to tangle into your hair, pulling gently at it until the exposed neck of the woman trembling under him was in full view, lips latching against the sensitive skin and peppering it with loving kisses. “I .. know.”

Forced steps were being taken towards the Surgeon of Death, all sprawled on the royal chair, unable to do anything more than to watch how you were coming for the kill under Doflamingo’s control - sharp blades pointed straight at his chest, jaw clenched shut in an attempt to fight such monstrous power, refusing to take the life of the man you loved. Despite seeing his usual wall put up, seemingly unbothered by what was happening, you knew better than anyone in the room that the cogs in Law’s brain were functioning at full speed trying to come up with a way to stop this entire ordeal.

“Did you even know that Caesar lied to get a better payout?” words came out through heavy breaths, amused expression taking over much to Law’s surprise hidden under the steel mask of “I don’t care”. “I thought the Don Quixote family was smarter than this.”

“Trying to buy time, princess?” Doflamingo’s rasped out laugh pushing each available button of your sanity, flashes of an insatiable rage morphing into images born out of the desire to kill him – to torture this pure evil until there was nothing left of him. 

“No.” you scoffed as the panic built with each step taken towards Law. “Since Caesar is with the Straw Hats, I can out him for the play he pulled on all of you. It’s not like you can do anything to him now.”

“No one deceives the Young Master.” Baby 5, one of Doflamingo’s acolytes and assassin, chimed in while feeling personally attacked at the implication of your statement.

“Trafalgar and I had a moment of weakness which I knew was being monitored.” annoyed sigh rolled off your lips feeling Doflamingo’s controlling strings pausing their wretched attempt. “It was easy to trick Caesar into believing that whatever he thought he saw would bring him more money. Higher price, bigger chances of leaving that hell hole with whomever paid. Who wouldn’t want to have leverage against one of the Seven Warlords?”

“That so?” vicious, disgusting grin split Doflamingo’s face, Law’s entire body tensing realizing the man was about to do something even crueler. 

Lythe fingers danced into the air, a muttered “fuck” being choked out when forcefully pushed right in front of Law while slightly bent over his figure. One blade pushed against his neck while the other was dangerously digging into yours, thin droplets of blood trickling down on both of your skins.

“Then kill him if that’s true.” Doflamingo purred maliciously, controlling with ease how the blade pressed against your skin as incentive. “Or .. was that a lie?”

“He lives, you say?” an amused chuckle escaped into the air, instinct dictating that it was a blatant lie but choosing to believe it out of pure hope.

“He lives.” the head of the Don Quixote family responded, mocking, harsh giggle resounding into the background at his own words.

“I’m sorry.” was all you could say, whispering low enough only for Law to hear, tears bubbling to the surface realizing how easily Doflamingo could control your body — knowing that his desire right now was for Law to die by your own two hands. “I tried.”

“Whatever you’re about to do ..” Law’s growled, uncontrollable anger destabilizing every single synapse in his brain when realizing what you were about to do. “Don’t.”

“Remember what I wanted to say that night.” soft smile engulfed your face, pace washing over the pair of eyes he dreamed of every single day since you left. “It’ll all make sense.”

I love you.

Law’s eyes widened in horror as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place – you were willing to die for him rather than lying, rather than having a chance of living after everything you went through. Erratic heartbeats took over in a split second, teeth gritting with ravaging anger as wrists were close to bleeding into the shackles, desperately wanting to break them off, to grab you and run out of the room as far as possible.

Why the hell didn’t he allow you to say it back then?

Why did he always have to find a way of stopping the words to fall from your lips?

Why did he do everything in his power to not make it real when it already was? 

He felt the same and never got the chance to say it, to hear it directly from you, to bathe into the soothing notes of your voice when uttering the three words that gave him the life he never felt worthy of. Saying “I love you” at that time seemed as if allowing the reality to disappear, to give true meaning and hope to a relationship that thrived on the luck of you being alive the next day, after Caesar was done with his experiments.

Cracks began showing into the smile you so freely showed Law, chin trembling from the tsunami of emotions crashing into you, tears staining the pair of eyes in which he always saw a life to be lived, heavy droplets rolling down the cheeks he used to kiss when asleep. Indeed, Law never showed or talked about his true feelings, about what was hiding underneath the steel exterior.

He never had to. You knew.

“Oi, Doffy!” you shouted, voice filled with confidence bouncing off the walls, tears pinching your lips with sadness and anger, eyes blooming with happiness at the mere fact that you had the chance of seeing the man you loved again after more than a year of being apart. “I fucking lied!”

Evil laughter filled the air, arms raised as fingers puppeteered the woman that chose love over life, two seconds of events unfolding into the room where your fate, and the fate of Dressrosa, was going to take a sudden turn. Scream filled with anger, desperation and pain exploded into the air as shocked gasps followed right after, droplets of blood splashing against Law’s chest, painting the black heart tattooed on his chest into shades of dark red, while the sound of steel blades crashing against the floor announced the end of a decision that was going to last a lifetime.

To the side, Doflamingo’s head rested on the blood stained carpet.

**

“Go right now!” Law roared like never before, steel gaze burning with a rage no one thought he was capable of under all that calmness and pristine, calculated attitude. “NOW!”

“B-but ..” teeth snapped shut against each other, the sound having Viola, King Riku’s second daughter, placing her hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently, reassuringly.

“After what you just ..” he followed, feeling how his words could easily cut even deeper than the blades that only scratched the surface of your delicate neck – Law inhaled deeply, regaining balance, notes of relaxed tonality carrying the sound of his voice. “I can’t have you be used as leverage again. Doflamingo won’t hesitate holding you over my head.”

“I don’t want to leave again!” foot slammed against the ground, blood rushing through the veins at the mere thought of being apart, of losing him yet again. “I don’t want to leave .. you.”

Silence fell upon the group that managed to escape out of the room filled with the danger that Doflamingo represented, Law at a loss of words of how easily you admitted, revealed so openly, in what way you were tied together under the questioning gazes of the others. Viola’s sweet chuckle filled the air, Kyros and King Riku eyed each other with small smiles that gave away the fact that they caught on to what was going on, witnesses to the previous sad scene that unfolded at the hands of Doflamingo, while Luffy looked in between the two of you as if you were the strangest thing to walk the land.

“Promise me.” Law mumbled, cheeks slightly flushed, ears burning with everyone’s eyes set on him, trying to calm his heart from exploding into millions of pieces because of you – deep, defeated sigh slipped past his lips when deciding that no one truly cared about this whole moment except the two of you. “You’ll stay safe until I come after you.”

Eyebrows shot up in surprise, lips parting hearing the promise made over a year ago being uttered yet again, and not by you, but by the man that, at that time, even refused to acknowledge that loving someone else existed – that it wasn’t just a bedtime story. 

Beaming smile curved your lips upwards, the same one Law got used to seeing daily a while ago, the same one he missed beyond his own capacity of understanding. 

“I promise.” sweet notes of happiness danced into the air, the tonality of a voice he only got to hear when around him, when not either in pain or filled with sadness, brought a small, rare smile on his own face. “Never again, Trafalgar!”

“Come with me.” Viola chimed in, fingers intertwined with yours, understanding clearer than anyone else that she had to hang on to your life, to protect you with everything she had – witnessing pure, unstained love was a source of power not many were capable of understanding in this wretched world.

Neither you or Law needed to say it out loud – I love you taking the form of a promise that meant a whole lot more than the confession itself, representing both the beginning and the end of what was going to be the rest of your lives.

“Never again.” Law acknowledged right away what you were saying, the double edged sword of your words being an unspoken language to others but him – he knew better than anyone what that meant. “Y/N-ya.”

You knew exactly what he was saying right there and then, heart blooming with a deep sense of accomplishment that no one else could decipher. It was a bizarre exchange between two people that met into the darkness of Punk Hazard, two people that gave up on themselves for each other, two people that decided walls were built to be crumbled at the hands of those that truly mattered.

As Doflamingo’s voice began booming over Dressorsa, announcing a new hunting game of the people that dared to cross into his territory, to try and save what he ruined all those years ago, the two of you looked at each other, finally at peace. There were about to be excruciating moments, events that would have your hearts scream with desperation, yet, somehow, you knew that the grass was going to be greener on the other side.

This time you were not going to leave on separate paths, torn apart by an unfair fate and an expensive trade.

This time you were both going to walk side by side, on the same path, because ..

Never again, right?

✨ Reblogs & comments would be much appreciated ✨

[kaiyonohime]

So I've decided to buy a custom skirt. But I'm not sure which fabric.

Choose!

[iamacolor]

2023 sewing projects - part 1 details at the end of the post (click here for part 2)

Note: I work for a fabric shop so I get most of my fabrics for free as well as some patterns as I have to be wearing our products at work (I definitely consider it a perk). Without this job I would not be sewing as much and I'd probably be buying most of my fabric second hand or on sale as I used to do before. I also sometimes sew during work hours so keep that in mind if you're also a sewist, go at your own rythm 💜 Although I have basic training in pattern drafting I prefer to sew from pre-existing patterns to save on time (as i have to regularly make myself some new clothes for work) and discover new techniques and styles - but I often change stuffs to adapt the designs to my style.

1 - first outfit for my friend's wedding (this one was for the henna night), it's made in a linen-viscose blend and it's very easy and quick to make + i can easily wear each piece separately!

2 - second outfit for my friend's wedding made out of 100% silk muslin (it was a big remnant i found on sale) - i ended up making made a lot of changes from the base pattern: i lenghtened the sleeves a lot, i changed the skirt piece as the og one was too short for me and also too wide for my narrow fabric so i just cut rectangles in the desired length and gathered everything at the waist - the skirt is fully lined both in silk and in lining fabric - I also took a lot in at the middle back and some on the sides (i would've have loved to make a toile but sadly a nasty tendinitis kept me away from sewing for a few months so i had to speed things up before the wedding)

3 - i made this bodysuit last week - it was my first time working on a knit fabric in a while and i should have lenghtened it a bit more than i already did as the shoulder seams are being slightly pulled back - in a viscose/polyester milano knit + modified pants from a magazine in a viscose , large pants in fluid fabrics like that are great for all seasons as i can easily put some tights on underneath when it's too cold. I'm so glad i found a knitted fabric to match the print on the pants!

4/5 - this dress and blouse have the same base pattern from the same book but i modified the end of the sleeves on both (they were supposed to be gathered on a wrist band and closed with buttons) to create a ruffle effect with an elastic - on the dress i took out the collar piece and slightly adjusted the side seams to make them more fitting + i traced another skirt piece based on the back of the skirt in pic1 and added a ruffle at the bottom - the dress is made in a viscose twill and the top in a coton double gauze

6/7 - both of these tops are made from the same pattern, i simply lenghtened the sleeves for the checkered version and on both i tightened the sleeve band - it's a very quick pattern to make. The dotted one is made from a very fine coton corduroy and the checkered one is in a coton double gauze. The pants are made in a thicker corduroy, I'm very much in between sizes when it comes to pants (depending on the brands I cover around 4 sizes between my waist and my thighs at their thickest) I ended up cutting the size for my thighs and simply deepening the folds and the darts to make it fit at the waist + I wanted a loser fit on the legs so i added 1cm on each side

8 - this shirt is made in a linen and viscose blend (same fabric as the pink matching set) except for the contrasting blue elements which are in linen-coton - i had fun playing with the classic shirt finishing and deciding what to do in blue (the buttonholes are threaded in blue!)

9/10 - this top is made from a simple coton gauze, the bodice is lined with the same fabric (super quick to make although the fact that the right and wrong side are the same means i've put in on wrong at least twice lmao) - the pants are made in coton gabardine (i've also had to trace between sizes here - this is a us sizes pattern and for this i'm in between 6 and 10 with a slight redrawing of the crotch and the side seams under the pockets) I love this pattern because it comes in a slim legs version, a straight one, a wide version (this one) and a short version. I've made another large version in orange and a slim version in white.

11 - these pants are made in a coton-linen twill - pretty straightforward in their making, as always I am in between sizes for pants so I cut a size 10 (can't remember if this was in us or uk sizes)and ended up having to do my usual changes for pants by deepening the front folds and the back darts (which I also had to make longer to accomodate not just for my waist circumference which is 2 sizes smaller than my thighs but also the arch of my back). Really like how large the belt is and how the fold is pressed all the way down the leg. I wore it with the green top, a red jacket and gold shoes for christmas eve!

[levi-libido]

Consequences

A Post-Rumbling Levi Fanfic concept

{ MAYBE NSFW }

Lieutenant Karma stirred awake. The soft, warm room light lost itself against the pitch black night outside the window. She could barely see the distant moon glowing from her position. Her body ached with every movement, sharp pains radiating from the bullet wounds in her side.

She blinked again and sat up carefully, her vision adjusting as she realized where she was— back at the Medical Squadron, tucked into a bed.

Her hand instinctively moved to the area beside her belly button, feeling the bandages through the thin fabric of the hospital gown she noticed she had on.

When did she change out of the dress?

"Finally awake," a low voice murmured from beside her.

She turned her head sharply, flinching at the pain it caused by her collarbone, only to find Captain Levi seated in a chair placed next to the foot of the bed, his one good eye watching her intently. His posture was relaxed, arms crossed, but the tension in his jaw revealed the concern beneath his nonchalant exterior.

"The hell are you doing here?" Lt. Karma demanded, her voice hoarse but laced with venom.

Immediately, the memories of what had happened crashed over her—the mission gone wrong. Pyre's sacrifice, his capture, her fight with Mikasa and Levi, the tranquilizer, and Levi catching her when she blacked out. Rage flared inside her, stinging more than the pain.

Levi's gaze hardened. "Making sure you’re resting."

"Resting?" Karma scoffed, pointing to the window. "While Pyre is out there? While you—mh," She broke off, shutting her eyes, reaching to her side as the pain flared up again, but she still fought to diminish her reaction.

Levi reflexively jerked forwards to help, looking at her up and down. He paused. Using restraint, he gripped the edge of the bed instead.

Her eyes searched the sheets in front of her realizing more details of what went down. "You-" she reached up, touching beside her neck where Mikasa had injected the tranquilizer needle.

"You guys fucking sedated me?!"

Levi's expression shifted from stoic to defensive, his brows furrowing. "Mikasa did what she was told... unlike you," he replied, standing up and crossing his arms again.

His hair was uncharacteristically messy, the sleeves of his fancy black shirt were pushed up exposing his forearms. He had a few buttons missing at the front of it, probably from when she gripped him up when they were tussling.

Traces of dirt and dried blood clung to his slightly torn black dress pants. Karma's eyes trailed down to his calf, which she had wrapped for him using her hair’s hardening during the shootout. Now it was replaced with dark, red stained gauze.

This clean-freak fucker hasn’t changed his clothes since the gala? He stayed by her bed the entire time?

She blinked, pushing the thought away.

No. Fuck him.

She threw the hospital covers off, revealing her bare feet and the temporary medical gown they had put on her to treat her wounds.

Guess it would've been hard to treat her in that tight ass dress she passed out in. Not that it mattered—she’d already ruined the gorgeous gown herself. Her mind flashed back to the way she stood before Levi and Mikasa, ripping the front slit of the dress even further just to gain more movement. Either way, she must’ve gotten her ass handed to her with both of them double-teaming her like that.

Fuck it, she’ll fight them again and again if it meant finding Pyre.

She huffed, bracing herself as she swung her legs and slid off the bed, wincing from the sharp pains in her side and knees. Her feet were so sore from those stupid ass heels. Not to mention, the placement from the needle brushing her collarbone was fucking throbbing.

Levi's expression darkened at her intentions, and he moved to block her path. "You're in no condition to go anywhere, Lieutenant."

"Move." Her voice was cold, a dangerous edge to it as her eyes fixed on the door.

Levi didn't budge, his frame rigid. "You're gonna get yourself killed if you try to go after him right now."

"He's my comrade. I didn't choose to abandon him," Karma snapped, sidestepping him and slowly stumbling toward the door.

Levi's eye flashed with anger, watching her go, but his tone remained deadly calm. "You idiot. It was Pyre's choice. He knew the risks. And I had to make a call. You're lucky you're even alive to bitch about it right now."

"You had no right to make that kind of call!" Karma shouted, stopping in her tracks to face him, her fists clenched at her sides. "Last time I checked, he was your responsibility as the ‘highest ranking officer’ of our team."

She mocked his title with exaggerated air quotes and envy. She hates that he outranks her.

"Which means I'm responsible for you too," Levi snapped, his voice rising. "Look at you. You would’ve gotten yourself killed trying to save him. I couldn't allow that."

Karma's chest heaved with the effort of holding back tears of frustration and rage. "You’ll never understand," she uttered, her voice trembling. "Maybe back at Paradis you’re use to leaving your comrades behind, but here we don't."

Levi's jaw tightened at the low blow, his gaze steady on hers.

"Here, we do shit differently!"

"Yeah? I can fucking see that. Here, you clearly have no respect for your superiors. Here, you guys can't even follow the fucking orders given to you!"

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of this short fucker and turned away from him to grab the door handle.

"Lieutenant-"

"Fuck off, Levi."

There was a long pause, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a blade.

"Say that again," Levi dared, his voice laced with anger.

She let go of the door handle and turned to him.

"I said, fuck off, Lev-"

"Captain," he cut her off, his tone cold and commanding.

She rolled her eyes and met his gaze squarely.

"Levi."

"Captain," he repeated, walking over to her.

"Levi," she said his name like a curse on her lips.

He slammed one arm against the door behind her.

Karma calmly closed her eyes at the unexpected loud noise, then opened them to stare back at him, unflinching. She wasn't wearing high heels or her usual combat boots, so this proximity must make him feel real fucking powerful to be a whole millimeter taller than her.

He leaned in, lowering his mouth beside her ear, now looking straight ahead at the wood behind her.

"Try again," Levi ordered, his whispered tone dripping with danger.

Karma angled her face slightly, glaring at him through her peripheral, her defiance burning in her eyes. She saw him tilt his head toward her, now dragging his gaze from her feet to her bare thighs, to the hem of the dress, up to her perked boobs through the gown. His gaze reached up her neck, to the beauty mark on her cheek. They were inches apart.

She hadn't realized she was pressed up against the door until now. Her palms flattened against the surface.

His eye displayed a dark stormy grey with his pupils dilated. It looked like a cloudy nighttime sky with a blue hue peeking through. His expression was unreadable even though his eyebrow slightly lifted, challenging her.

"Levi..." she repeated, cursing herself as her voice reluctantly wavered.

He hated the way she flicked the tip of her tongue when pronouncing the " L” in his name.

He hated what it did to him.

He hated what she did to him.

She felt his warm fingers take hold of her chin, his calloused palm resting beneath it. He turned her head to face him completely. She let him.

"Do you think you can keep testing me?" Levi growled, his forehead almost touching hers.

"I do what I want," Karma shot back, but her voice lacked the venom it had before. She was losing her resolve, this proximity to him was fuckin up her thoughts.

"You don't get it," Levi whispered harshly, his gaze drifting down to her lips as she bit down on the bottom one.

"I can't lose... I can't let you die too."

Karma sucked in a breath, her eyes meeting his intense gaze, the anger fading, replaced by something deeper. Almost primal. The pain in her side throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the heat spreading inside her just from his words.

"You won't," she matched his volume, her voice softening as she focused on his lips now as she spoke to them. “I promise you. They can't kill me."

"Don't make promises you can't keep— shit will just lead to regret," his voice rough as he leaned in even closer, their lips almost brushing. His hand snaked behind her nape, fingers feeling the cool, unique texture of her weaponized hair. The strands felt deceptively smooth like silk but with a subtle firmness, similar to a blade.

Karma's heart pounded in her chest, the tension between them unbearable. She could feel his warm breath on her bottom lip.

"I don't have regrets, Captain."

The line between anger, passion, and professionalism within the alliance of their two nations had blurred immediately.

She felt Levi's warm lips press against hers, the kiss hot and desperate, all the pent-up emotions from the night pouring out. His hands moved to her waist, careful to avoid the gauze over her bullet wounds.

“Mmm…” He pulled her in closer, deepening the angle so he could taste her sweet lips against his own.

Karma gasped, squeezing her eyes tight, allowing herself to melt in the heat of the moment. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as if she could lose herself in him and forget everything else. The gala, the failed mission, the pain— all of it faded away, leaving only the two of them, locked in a battle of stubbornness, neither backing down.

He pushed her against the wooden door with a creak. She moaned softly into his mouth. Those small noises from her made him ache with desire.

Once they couldn't pull themselves closer anymore, he slid his hands down to the back of her slim thick thighs and lifted her up, using the door to support her as she wrapped them around him.

He grunted, pulling back with a heavy breath. "Fuck, I forgot how heavy you were."

She rested her forehead against his, smirking. Her voice was breathy and sultry. "Blame the 200lb hair..."

The corner of his lips tugged and he reeled her back into him, relishing at how she squeezes her thighs tighter around him. She traced her tongue on his bottom lip and parted her way inside, dragging it along his own tongue and sucking on it slowly. He couldn’t hold back the groan she ripped out of him before he fought back to softly bite her lip in return.

Fuck.

His hands roamed to the small shorts underneath the hospital gown, then he rose up to feel the bare skin of her arched upper back. She wasn’t wearing anything but those little ass shorts.

With all his Ackerman might, he pulled her into him and turned them away from the door, carrying her towards the bed. No man in the world could ever handle the added weight of her hair in the past.

No one but him.

The kissing stopped as they stared into each other with admiration and desperation. His disheveled hair and wrinkled top made him look much different than when they started the night off. So did his dangerous, grey eye. So elegant and beautiful in the beginning of the night, yet so hungry right now.

Grunting, he leaned down to gently lay her down at the edge of the bed. He hovered on top of her, one forearm held him up, the other stayed gripping her upper thigh.

She pulled his collar down to her, but he quickly placed a single pointer finger onto her lips.

The silence was filled with their heavy panting as they tried to catch their breath. His eyelids lowered as he moved closer to her face.

Up close he noticed every detail about her; the small beauty mark above her wet pink lips, her needy eyes, her shining silver hair, her flushed colored cheeks.

She was too pretty.

Damn.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she waited for his next move, his finger still pressed to her lips.

"Mmh!" she protested impatiently, forcing him down more with her legs.

He shook his head, his eye full of lust. "You're not getting rewarded for your shitty behavior." He slowly traced his finger down to her wet bottom lip, letting it flick back up with a subtle plop.

Her expression was a mix of frustration and defiance. As he began to move off her, she grabbed his hovering wrist with both hands, pulling it back toward her as an act of rebellion.

"Karma-"

She placed his finger back on her bottom lip, slowly sticking her tongue out to rest underneath it. His dangerous expression returned as he intensely watched her. She licked his finger from the base of his knuckle to the tip, never breaking eye contact.

Watching her caused the tip of his dick to involuntarily push hard against both his briefs and the zipper of his pants. He could feel the damp spot he’s created on the fabric, trying to break free.

He let out a slow, heavy breath to his control himself.

"Open."

She bit her lip then obeyed, slowly relaxing her jaw, allowing him to push his finger inside, past her lips toward the back of her throat.

When he got a little too deep, her shoulders lifted and her lips closed reflexively, he leaned down, pulling his finger out.

"I said open, brat." His tone was stern, his gaze serious and unwavering.

She let out a small moan, opening wider as he now slid two fingers along the inside of her mouth. Her outstretched tongue began to drip with saliva.

"Mmmhmm." He hummed in approval.

She closed her lips around his knuckles, hollowing her cheeks to suck on them as he slowly withdrew both fingers back out of her mouth. She innocently watched his reaction through her upper eyelashes the entire time.

He swiftly gripped her throat, his wet fingers pressing firmly into her skin. Her head tilted back naturally, gasping softly as it became harder to breathe.

She’s ashamed at how good it felt.

Leaning next to her ear, he whispered harshly, "You're gonna learn how to follow my orders as your Captain.”

With that, he climbed off her and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his fingers.

Karma stared at the ceiling for a moment, her chest rising and falling as she tried to regain her composure. Finally, she propped herself up on her forearms, glaring at him.

He turned, walking towards the door.

"This changes nothing," Karma called out, her voice breathless, but laced with defiance. "I'm still pissed!"

Levi gripped the door handle, turning his head slightly, his face hidden from her so she couldn't see the faint smirk tugging at his lips. From her POV, the Captain was back to his usual stoicism, "I know."

He walked out, closing the door behind him.

She dropped back onto the bed, wincing at the sharp pains she completely forgot about during the entire time Levi had his hands all over her.

Slowly, Lt. Karma softly touched her lips, still tingling from the thrilling consequences of challenging her superior.

This alliance between Paradis and the Republic has worked so far... but maybe she'd push his buttons more often.

[mildmayfoxe]

we put on tng and it was just immediately evident how nice all the fabrics used for the costumes are compared to our modern clothing. like all the starfleet uniforms are made out of wool. one of the guest stars is wearing a linen jacket. guinan’s outfit looks like double gauze. and these are just COSTUMES

[circle--of--confusion]

Aaaaaahhhh my new fabric (some double layer gauze) and my pretty buttons arrived! The fabric isn't as dark as the picture online so it reads more Christmas than goth 😭 its fine though I still like the colors

[tormenting-me]

[littleladymab]

A caresses B's back, "I just didn't want you to worr-" A is cut off when B stops them by gently pressing a kiss on their lower lip. "I chose to worry about you, my love. So please let me." - Ship of your choice with your fave OC

HELLO AND THANK YOU This is Atlas and Alonso, the Arthur and Merlin in mine and @bottlingsound's Knight Lite project. (She also doubled down on the request after I showed her this, so like Cara this one is for you, too).

This is like right before the story starts, so at the moment there is only Atlas (Arthur) and Bridgette (Kay) who are keeping an eye out and fighting monsters!

pspspsp come get your old man grey ace!yaoi

++++

Alonso doesn’t mean to slam the door on Bridgette’s back, but his patience was wearing thin and her anxiety only added to his own. 

“Yes, you’re sorry, an accident, I get it,” he tells the closed door. He gives his hand a violent shake as if that will be enough to dispel the trembling, but of course it isn’t. Useless magic. “Bah.” 

“I can hear you talking to yourself, Merlin,” Atlas calls from the dining room. He sounds tired. He sounds old — he is old. Too old by far to be running around with Excalibur on patrols. 

Alonso does little to control his anger as he stalks back to join his king. “This,” he says and jabs a finger to where Atlas is clutching the gauze to his shoulder. “This is not a new injury.” 

Atlas glances down at the bright red of fresh blood on the bandage and somehow thinks it is a good idea to shrug and say, “It looks pretty new to me.” 

“You are going to send me to an early grave, your majesty.” Alonso steps in so his knees are pressed to Atlas’. “Healing is not my strong suit,” he warns, and places his hands on Atlas’ shoulders — gripping the uninjured one to keep himself steady as he focuses on the reopened wound. 

A soft sigh escapes Atlas, though it’s accompanied by a wince and a gritting of teeth. Where is Imogen when he needs her? She has always had the softer touch. 

But he just kicked her niece out of the house without a proper ‘debrief’ or whatever it is they like to call it. He gave Kay a proper dressing down for the shoddy behavior on the battlefield in letting the king get injured. 

Imogen would sooner slap Alonso than heal Atlas if he asked. 

Alonso’s eyes snap open as Atlas’ hand presses to the bend of his spine. The request is gentle, almost tender if he didn’t know Arthur so well. But Atlas is different, softer in surprising ways, and so Alonso let’s himself be pulled closer. Let’s their proximity dispel the anxiety in a way that his own tricks could not. “Why did you not tell me?” he asks, voice quiet in the silence of the house. 

Atlas doesn’t answer right away. His hand holding the bandage rests limp in his lap now that the wound has been closed over, and he seems content to let his touch trail up and down Alonso’s spine. “I just didn’t want you to worry—” he starts, but Alonso doesn’t want to hear that excuse. 

He softens his grip from Atlas’ shoulders and stoops down to press a gentle kiss to his king’s lips. 

Even Atlas goes still, the last of that evening’s frantic energy bleeding out. 

“I choose to worry about you, my king,” Alonso says, cupping Atlas’ face with his hands and tilting it up to leave another kiss. “Mi media naranja.” A third kiss, and Atlas’ fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt. “So please, let me worry about you.” 

Atlas’ answer is a heavy inhale and exhale, his own way of apologizing, of saying I’m sorry but I can’t stop. 

There is only Arthur and Kay. They can’t afford to let their guard up. If they do, an injured shoulder will be the least of their problems. 

Alonso closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Atlas’. Until they can get more knights, until they can come up with a better solution, then he will just have to ensure he keeps a closer eye on his Arthur. 

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 7

Series Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I'm very unsure about this chapter so please drop a comment to let me know you liked it.

Contains: This is still a slow burn, fluff, angst, violence, a shooting, accidental drug overdose, more angst, all hurt no comfort.

4.4 K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”- Oscar Wilde

Billy felt like he was living in a haze, with only one week left on his stay and the discharge ready to go, he had no idea what to do with himself.

He had been spending more time wandering the ward, helping pack shelves and assisting the nurses with mundane tasks, he had even helped with reconnected their computer system one day after a fire drill.

"You seem ready to go home." Lizzy was pulling a double and Billy could hear the tiredness in her voice.

"I've been ready to go home since I woke up, so to say I'm ready is an understatement." The only thing holding Billy back was not seeing Hazel all the time.

Lizzy sighed and yanked packets of gauze from a box before handing half to Billy, "Help me stack the other cupboard?"

Billy smiled softly, "Sure."

Lizzy opened the cupboard with another sigh then took a deep breath, "are you going to tell Hazel how you feel about her?"

Billy was taken aback but only for a second, "I don't know, does she feel the same way?" It was a shot in the dark, he knew Liz wouldn't betray Hazel's confidence.

"You'll have to ask her that, but no matter how she feels inside, I don't think you're going to get the answer you want." Billy already knew that he was just going to have to convince Hazel that it wasn't the head injury talking.

Before he could ask for more, a raised voice pulled his attention away, "what's going on there?" Liz shrugged, stood up and walked over, Billy following close behind.

"You don't fucking get it bitch, I want to move my mother to another hospital." Billy's teeth were on edge, he knew nothing good was going to come from this.

"We know you want that but your mother's plan states she wanted to be placed here, you will have to get a lawyer." The nurse who was trying to calm the man down was fresh out of nursing school and he could tell she was scared.

Lizzy, on the other hand, was just pissed, "You need to leave now, we don't tolerate that kind of language. You can come back when you've calmed down."

"Fuck you, I want to see the doctor on call now and get her out of here." Billy took a small step forward, ready to react to the inevitable.

"No, you need to.."

Billy saw it happen in slow motion, the man took on step back and cocked his fist. Billy's reacted on muscled memory alone, Lizzy's fearful yelp at the man's sudden moment spurring him on. He felt the weight on the man against him and then heard a crack, everything happening in a blur of fabric and flesh, then he heard a snap and a yell.

When his vision came back into focus, he had the man pinned against the desk and Billy had twisted the wrists of the offending hand up like a pretzel.

"Let me go you freak." Billy looked at Lizzy, her eyes stuck on the man.

"It's fine Bill," she pointed to the side and two security guards were rushing towards him. He let the man go and took a step back, watching carefully as the man was placed in cuffs are dragged out.

"Thank you." He could still feel the fear lingering in the air.

"Is anyone going to get into trouble for that?" Billy realised the cracking was the sound of the man's wrist snapping.

"No, you stopped me from getting hit. They'll take him to the ER, fix his wrist and send him home. He'll be banned from the ward," She exhaled, "you good?"

Billy was more than good, he felt great, "I'm alright, you sure you're ok?"

Lizzy nodded, "yeah, it's not the first time someone's tried to hit me and it won't be the last. You wanna help me finish stock?"

Billy nodded, "yeah." He felt strange, normally an incident like that would have been nothing but he was still hot with anger, so much that it made his head ache. There was only a week left, maybe getting out of there was what he needed.

****

Knock knock 

Billy was still wound up when Dr Charles came by for his visit, it would be one of his last before Billy left and moved to seeing him in outpatient. "I heard what happened today, the nurses are very thankful for what you did." 

Billy huffed, "It was nothing, I didn't even think about it." 

Dr Charles nodded, "how are you feeling? You seem agitated." 

Billy sighed, "I am. I know the agitation and the emotional problems are normal but I'm just getting sick on feeling like I'm going to lose my temper all the time. I used to have a tight grip on my temper but some days I feel like I'm going to blow up at the slightest inconvenience." 

Dr Charles smiled softly, "But you never have. Through everything, even the worst parts of rehab, you still kept a lid on your anger. I think you're underestimating yourself, you might feel angry all the time but I think part of that is being here. A hospital is a very difficult place to live for an extended period of time. I know you've been helping out around here but your life is still out of your control and that can manifest in other areas." 

Billy swallowed, "so you think it will get better?" 

Dr Charles nodded, "I do. We'll still be talking once a week and if it doesn't and you want to try some medication, I wouldn't say no but for now, I'm optimistic that once you're back into your routine, you'll feel better. I have no doubt that there will be things that you struggle with more and we'll work on that but how you're feeling now will change." 

Billy took a deep breath, the swirling in his brain slowing, "I can't believe I'm leaving here next Tuesday." 

Dr Charles smiled, "I can. You'll be fine Billy, I wouldn't have cleared you otherwise." 

****

Hazel hated Tuesday ER shifts, the only thing keeping her going was that Billy was leaving today. She had been run ragged but so had everyone else, gang shootings were no fun, especially when the gangsters weren't really gangsters but teenage boys.

She took a deep breath and loaded her arms with supplies as she headed to care for another patient, who was currently yelling at her to hurry up, "I'm here young man, if you keep yelling at me I'm liable to leave and treat someone else. Now I have pain killers, so if you want them, you'll be nice to me, I'm here to help."

The boy swallowed, "sorry miss, it just hurts."

Hazel gave him a soft smile, "I know, but we'll have you fixed up in a jiffy. You wanna tell me what happened? The thing about being a nurse is that the cops can't ask me shit and knowing how you got shot might help us help you. Maybe we can start with you name?"

The boy let out a grunt as he stuck in with the IV, "Jimmy miss."

"Alright Jimmy, you can call me Hazel. Now I'm not an expert but I'm pretty sure you've been shot." He hadn't just been shot, the bullets were huge.

"Don't go asking questions that are going to get you hurt, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks." Despite the bravado, he looked scared.

"So are there any questions I can ask? I know there'll be retaliation for this and I have other patients I need to keep safe, do I need to tell them to lock down the ER?" Hazel had been here before, nowhere was safe when these things went wrong.

"You do what you gotta do and we'll do the same." Her heart broke for Jimmy, he didn't want to be there.

"Ok…"

CODE BLUE CODE BLUE

The heart rate monitor shot up, "What's that?"

"Someone's dying. You need to get yourself a lawyer, like yesterday." Hazel kept her attention on the movement outside, her own heart rate shooting up when she saw the fentanyl protocol start, "Jimmy, I don't care who you are or who you run with. Was someone carrying Fent with them, all you have to say is yes. If you lie to me, more people are going to die."

His eyes went wide, "the cops won't know?" Hazel shook her head, "yeah, we all are." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of baggies filled with white powder.

Hazel took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, "Ok sweetie, you're not going to get into trouble but I need to bring someone in here to get rid of that. You can just tell your boss it was lost when they cut your clothes off. If you help me out here, I'll do my best to make sure you don't get into trouble." He nodded and she stuck her head out of the room, "can I get someone in here please."

But before she got a reply, another sound, far more horrible than a code, filled the air; it was gunshots.

****

Frank looked frazzled when he walked into Billy's room, Billy knew something was going on. Every now and then he heard sirens going off and the nurses were acting strange, "Frankie, what's going on?" 

Frank shrugged, "I have no idea, we went to come in through the main entrance and they told me to go home. I'm only here because one of the doctors let me in the back. There are cops everywhere." 

It hadn't occurred to Billy to look up from Anvil's book and turn on the TV but now it was all he could think about. He switched on the news only to be greeted by a news anchor standing in front of the hospital while red and blue lights went off around him. 

"While we can't confirm, there are reports of two nurses being shot, not only that but there's apparently been multiple fentanyl overdoses." 

Billy's heart sank into his chest, "turn that shit off." Lizzy didn't wait, she charged into the room, plucked the remote off the table and then the TV went black, "no one knows what's going on right now. Watching that isn't going to help any of us." 

"What do you know?" Billy's thoughts were rushing around his head at a million miles and hour. 

"We know that at nine this morning, there was a gang skirmish on the corner and half of them ended up here and the others ended up at Mercy. Half an hour ago, they called the first code blue when someone started overdosing, even though they weren't using. Right after that an armed man walked into the ER looking for the gang leader and wouldn't take no when two nurses told him to fuck off. I don't know who's been shot but in the chaos, a baggie of fentanyl was hit and it's all over the ER." Lizzy looked close to a panic attack. 

Frank felt a familiar twitch in his finger, "Are the nurses alive?"  

"As far as I know, yes. The shooter was taken into custody, umm, I paged Hazel but I haven't heard back I have no idea if she's ok. I think we've gone into lockdown because I can't make nonemergency calls outside.." Frank walked over to her, placed his hand on her shoulder and led her to sit in one of the chairs, "I'm sorry Billy, you'll have to stay overnight with all this going on." 

Billy didn't care one bit, he would trade a million more days in there if it meant Hazel was ok. He swallowed his fear and collected himself, "she'll be fine, she has to be." 

****

Lizzy had been walking back and forth along the ward for hours, jumping at every ping of a pager before her shoulders fell when she realised it wasn't Hazel. Billy had been watching her from his room, his own anxiety mounting as the day went on, it was only three and he felt like days had passed.

There was a strange sound then an electronic ticking then all the phones started to go at once. There was a rush and Billy focused on Liz as she answered the one her station, a look of pure relief coming over her face as her hand held her chest in an effort to comfort herself. The conversation didn't last long and the moment she hung up she was racing into Billy's room.

"Hazel just called, she's fine. She and one of our nurses that got stuck in the ER will be here in a bit, they just need to bring some patients up. All our ER beds are full so we and a few other wards are going to take on the overflow." Billy hadn't felt relief like that in a long time.

"What happened?" It didn't make sense that Hazel would have been occupied all day long when the news was reporting that everything was handled relatively fast.

She leaned against the door frame, "I don't know, I heard another nurse say there were more shootings that the media didn't report on and we weren't allowed to go on bypass so the ER's been busy all day without a break. I'm sure Hazel will let us know when she gets her."

Lizzy took one more deep breath then left, and Frank waited till she was out of earshot to speak, "I'm going to talk to David and see what happened, something's got to be done about this." Billy swallowed, he knew that tone, the last time Frank spoke like that, he and Billy went on a killing spree after Rawlins tried to kill them in a fake gang war and wiped out an innocent family instead.

Billy sighed, they barely made it out and they had CIA help, there was no way Frank would be able to do it again on his own and Billy wasn't in fighting shape yet, "I'm sure Hazel will tell us what she knows, just be patient."

Before he could say more, the sound of a squeaky bed wheeled pulled his attention away for the conversation and his heart leapt when his eyes landed on Hazel. She looked like she had hell but she had a small smile on her face. He watched as Lizzy ran up to her and took her in a hug, Hazel falling into the embrace like she couldn't stand straight anymore.

Billy's heart raced even faster as Hazel made her way to his room, meeting his eye through the window with a smile. She didn't bother waiting after she knocked, the door swinging open like she didn't have the energy to push it.

She sighed as she slumped into the chair and rubbed her face, "I'm so sorry about today, I know how badly you want to leave."

Billy shook his head, "you think I care about that? We heard that two nurses got shot, I was worried sick something had happened to you."

Hazel smiled softly, "you're too sweet. Everyone's ok, I'm just really tired."

"Do you know what happened?" Frank was worried, she didn't sound like herself.

"The boys they sent our way were from the Bronx, the other gang they got into a gunfight with, the ones that went to Mercy were a peckerwood gang from Green Haven. I don't know any more other than that the guy that came in with the gun had a Nazi Hawks on his arm. The boys didn't know much, they were more worried about BX-nine taking over their territory. I'm sorry I can't give you anything else." That was all Frank needed.

"Why was there a Media…"

"WE NEED NARCAN NOW."

When they looked over to the commotion, a group of people were crowded around the nurse Hazel had walked in with.

"CODE BLUE CODE BLUE."

It was pandamonium, there were people rushing in every direction, "I'll be back." Hazel's voice was barely there and as she went to stand up, she crumbled to the floor.

Billy threw himself out of his chair and bent by her side, vaguely aware of Frank running to get help. He tapped her cheek and her eyes fluttered open, her pupils tiny as she took in a horrible breath that reminded him of the time he stabbed a man in the throat in his sleep.

"Russo don't touch her." Billy's body followed without his mind's permission then Lizzy was leaning over Hazel with a strange thing in her hand that Billy reconsidered as a Narcan inhaler.

Billy heard the telltale rushing sound as the spray was released over the blood screaming in his ears as he waited for Hazel to open her eyes but nothing came, "shouldn't she be waking up."

"It can take a bit, just don't.." Hazel's eyes shot open she took in a heaving breath before groaning and rolling over onto her side, "You guys need to leave now, someone outside will tell you where to go. We have to clean the whole ward and I need to get her out of these scrubs," Billy was stuck to the spot, "now Russo, that wasn't a suggestion."

"It's ok, I'm ok." Hazel didn't sound ok, she sounded like she was in pain but Frank was dragging him out of there before he could protest then a nurse was directing him and everyone else to leave through a door.

Billy paced in the hall, unable to calm himself as Frank did his best to process the situation. Billy paused, his face filled with rage and spoke just above a whisper, "this needs to be dealt with."

Frank gave him a look, "I know, don't worry, I know."

****

They were allowed back after two hours of anxiety and Billy's first action was to go looking for Hazel. He found her at the nurse's station, her hair wet as Lizzy looked her over, "are you alright?" She nodded and without thinking, he walked up to her and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm ok, I feel a little gross but that's normal." Billy's embrace was warm and Hazel felt ok for the first time since she walked into the front doors that morning.

"Let Frank drop you home, you shouldn't take the subway like this." Billy just wanted her to be safe and the thought of her riding the subway after the day she'd had was killing him.

"No, I'm alright." She pulled away and gave him a soft smile, "I'm so sorry about today, I know how much you wanted to get out of here."

Billy shook his head, "it's only another twenty four hours, I couldn't even think about that, I was so worried about you."

Hazel shook her head fondly and placed her hand on his shoulder, "and I'm safe and sound. How about I text one of the nurses when I get home safe and they can let you know?"

Billy smiled, "thank you, I'd like that."

Hazel returned Billy's smile and dropped her arm, "well, that settles that, I'll be here bright an early tomorrow to wish you on your way."

Billy's fingers itched to reach for her, but he stopped himself, "I can't wait."

****

Billy threw the last of his clothes into his bag with a context sigh, it was finally over, he could finally put all this shit behind him and leave. He had hardly spent the night before, regardless of Hazel letting him know she got home safe. All his friends were there but he was still holding out for Hazel to arrive.

When she did, she was in her everyday clothes and it made Billy feel strange. "You're not working today?"

Hazel shook her head, "No, they gave me the day off after what happened yesterday but like I told you I wasn't going to miss this for anything."

Karen looked at Frank who gave her a nod, "I don't want to take away from Billy's day but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to talk about what you saw?"

Hazel shrugged, "as long as it doesn't get back to me I'll tell you whatever you need to know. I know you won't turn it into some bullshit story that's forgotten about in a week."

Karen smiled, "great, let's go now and let Frank and Billy pack." Curt seemed suspicious but he didn't say anything.

Hazel waved her hand, "sure, we can head to the hallway, there are some chairs there and no one will bother us."

Karen hopped off the chair and all but ran out of the room before pausing so Hazel could show her where to go. It wasn't a long walk to the stairwell and Karen stood with her back against the door so no one came in, "So what do you want to ask me about?"

"I know what happened, I've already talked to some other nurses, I want to know why there was a media blackout after the shooting." Karen had heard spatterings that it was because the Media were the ones who told the bad guys where to aim the gun.

"Because they sent a stringer in who blabbed, he was in and out but I heard from the nurses who got shot that he called a guy named Paul before he left. The shooter was a Paul Hicks. I don't want to jump to conclusions but that sounds like something you might want to look into." Karen could tell Hazel was still shaken up.

Karen nodded, "You got any idea why a stringer is ratting to a Nazi?"

"From what I've heard for my child gangster patients? The street's about to blow up and I'm guessing he wants first dibs when shit goes bad." She paused, "none of this can come back to me, these kids trust me and we need to know when something is about to happen more than the cops."

Karen held up her hand, "trust me, no one will know this came from you. Can I ask you something?" Hazel nodded, "are you going to tell Billy how you feel?"

Hazel blinked, "No I'm not. They're not real feelings Karen, Billy showed me kindness after one of the worst times in my life and I did the same. It's trauma, not love."

Karen shook her head, "Don't you think you and Billy need to work that out between yourselves?"

Hazel shook her head, "no. It's better this way, trust me."

Karen gave her a soft smile, unconvinced that Hazel believed what she was saying, "alright, we better go back before they send a search party after us. For what it's worth, I'm really glad I met you."

Hazel smiled, "likewise."

When they got back, Billy was alone in the room, "Kar, can you give me and Hazel some space?"

Karen nodded, "sure." She turned to Hazel before leaving, "Remember what I said."

Karen closed the door behind her and Billy waved over to the table, "sit with me, I need to say something, it won't take long."

Hazel's worry was growing, she had a feeling about what was coming, "sure."

When they sat down, Billy reached for Hazel's hands and took them in his, "look, I've been hearing for months that it's normal for patients to develop feelings for their careers so I know what you're going to say but I need you to hear me out. I love you and I've been trying to find a way to tell you for a while and I guess now is a good as time as any and I think you feel the same way about me."

Hazel swallowed, "have you talked to Dr Charles about this?" Billy shook his head, "well, you need to. These feelings aren't real and they have nothing to do with love. You went through something life changing and I was there to help you, that's it."

Billy shook his head, "this isn't transference, I love you."

Hazel pulled away and stood up, "no you don't. You have no idea how wrong it would be if I let this go any further, not to mention I'm risking my job."

Billy shot up, "then come and work with me, you'd be amazing."

Her eyes went wide, "do you hear yourself? This isn't normal. I would be denying everything I stand for and taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state if I even considered something like that. Billy, doctors and nurses that date their patients, especially when they've been caring for them long term are predators. No, this isn't happening and nothing you can say will change that."

"So that's it, you're doing to deny how you feel about me because you're worried I can't think for myself? You know you weren't actually my nurse." Billy was desperate now.

"Now you're just arguing semantics, the answer is no and your next step better be a session with Dr Charles where you tell him all of this or I will. I will put your wellbeing above your confidence every single time and if you don't think I will harpoon your release until you are emotionally ready to leave, you would be very wrong." It hurt her to do this but it had to be done.

Billy would bare his very soul to have her, so telling the shrink was nothing. "If that's what you want I'll do it."

Hazel shook her head, "It is not about what I want, it's about what you need. This is over Billy, we need distance while you sort out what's going on. I can't see you anymore, so don't call me or show up at the ward or send me letters, that's it."

Billy blinked away his tears, "so you're going to stand there and tell me you don't love me back?"

Hazel's face hardened, "I never have and I never will. Talk to Dr Charles about your feelings, or I will," for a moment, her facade fell, "In six months, you will look back on this and thank me for doing this to you. I will not damage you more. Now stay away, it's better for both of us."

She didn't give him a chance to respond before turning on her heel and leaving Billy and for the first time in a long time, Billy felt lost.

Part 8

[bomberqueen17]

sewing progress!!!

So on Tuesday I had a doctor’s appointment in the late morning and I just. didn’t come back to work afterward. because i really didn’t need to, i’m pretty caught up.

It was raining on Tuesday, as it has rained all week. and it was so dark i had to turn my headlights on not just to be visible to other cars, but also to see. So there was no reason not to just hole myself up in the basement and sew. So I did that.

I finished three projects. I also fucking broke a needle on my serger, which doesn’t work anyway. I know like a year ago I got it mostly working enough to finish a dress, but having rethreaded it six times and swapped out the needles didn’t really fix the issue, which is that my needle threads are very loose so when I sew a seam, I can just open it up to the loop threads. I have tweaked every setting, to no avail. I just use the serger to finish seams now; I sew them on the sewing machine, and then run them through the serger to bind them off, because the serger is fucking useless for construction like this.

But now the nail is in the coffin: I went to change the broken needle, using a magnetic screwdriver with a magnetic dish underneath, and somehow the fucking screw bounced off the magnetic dish without adhering, and vanished into the shadow realm. I have scoured the desk and the interior of the serger and there is no trace of it; it’s gone forever, one thousand percent. I happen to have an absolute superpower of Not Being Able To Find Shit, which means I’ve learned that the only way I’ll find most things is if i just fucking purchase replacements. So do not give me hints on how to find this missing screw because I am stupid and they will not work for me and I just know this, I have worked hard to accept it, i will not find this screw. I must purchase a replacement.

I have no idea how.

So, I don’t have a serger anymore, is what this boils down to, until I can find the ability to look up where you get replacement needle-holding screws. I feel like they should just come with spares but I know they don’t. I cannot reiterate enough that I will not find this screw, it is not ever going to reappear, unless and until I replace it and no longer need it, whereupon it will be revealed to have been sitting right there the entire time. That is how this works. Understand that I have been me for a long time and I just know this is how it works.

I would like advice, if anyone has it, on how to get replacement screws. I would not like advice on how to look for a missing one.

Anyway. With that out of the way. Here are some photos of what I did get done!

actually this is the one that is not totally done and i have made no meaningful progress on, but i know i hadn’t tried it on in a bit. it needs the very last bit of the hem finished, because i’m an idiot and hemmed it by hand. hemming sleeves by hand is fine and good. hemming a whole skirt? not smart. i may not finish this one ever. but i’ll try.

This is a Honeybourne dress in a discontinued shade of linen from fabrics-store.com, in the IL019 medium weight. The pattern is a straight size 20 but I added two inches of ease in the back because I cannot operate back zippers so this is a pull-on dress instead.

This is a Kineton dress in a linen-rayon blend from metrotextiles. (They very frequently have big discount codes; this was purchased at I think 60% off. their current coupon is 55% off. so like. do recommend.)

This Kineton is hacked to have the sleeves from the Honeybourne pattern because I hate puff sleeves. It’s also a size 20 graded to a 22 below the bust but I clearly did not need to do that.

And this is another Kineton in a double cotton gauze from Mood, which I got ages ago with quite a different project in mind. I intended this one for a beach coverup, and so I hacked it to use the flutter sleeves from the Upton expansion dress pack and also I lengthened the skirt without paying the slightest attention to the shape of the lower hem. Like I knew what I ought to do to make the hem tidy and I decided I didn’t want to do that, and whether I do or don’t regret that, i actually don’t know because the seasonal depresh is setting in and I’ve run out of fucks to give about it, LOL.

And finally, an Avola slip dress in linen from metrotextiles:

I hacked this one to add pockets but then fucked up very slightly inserting them, so you can see there’s like, a corner in the skirt hem, whoops. Maybe I’ll fix that, or maybe i won’t.

What I will fix is that the straps are three inches too long and in the wrong spot relative to my bra, which it’s like an explicit part of the pattern instructions to test so you don’t fuck that up, but what I found out is, I can’t fucking see my own back in a mirror and I need to do this by taking photos. I also can’t reach to pin, with my fucked-up shoulders, so really I need to have someone help me. But what’s actually going to happen is I’m going to fix it myself based on the position of the print in the photos, and then I’m going to mark the paper pattern, and then i’m never going to think twice about this again.

This, again, is a size 20 graded out to a size 22 in the waist, and I again did not need to do that. What happens is that I always read the size chart and get anxious that the size 20 will be too tight, and then i don’t cross-reference with the garment ease chart like the instructions say, so i always grade up and literally never need to. So then the dress is sort of baggy in the middle, and in my mind that’s going to mean it skims the bits of me I’m selfconscious about, but what really happens is that it’s just, well, sorta baggy and if I wanted shit not to fit me I could just keep buying ready-to-wear. so I need to go home and fix the paper patterns of all these and just cut it out in a straight 20 ffs, but. Listen. Brainpower is waning.

I have another dress cut out and ready to assemble (a Rockwell), and a wrap top to finish, and a shawl to hem, and then I wanted to try to knock out a couple of knit garments but since I Don’t Fucking Have A Serger that’s not going to happen.