#Top Stitch Sweatshirt

[batterywater]

yuuta's precious little baby gets sick (yuuta x fem! reader, no body description)

When you finally wrestle your way through the sticky deadbolt, you all but collapse in your entryway, ultimately sitting yourself on the ground by your shoe rack. You were having such a tough time with your keys you almost fainted.

It’s then that you finally accept the fact you’ve been avoiding: you’ve caught the flu. 

You assume Yuuta’s off working or something—he doesn’t usually use the deadbolt when he’s home alone, so you jump in your place on the floor when he rounds the corner, calling a greeting. He frowns when he sees your position. 

“Hi, baby. Just… taking off my shoes.” You mumble with a slow tug of a lace. 

You don’t want to alarm him, Yuuta’s insanely busy with work as of late—your poor health would just be another stressor. He’ll probably be able to tell something’s up, but you intend to downplay your symptoms if you can help it. 

He certainly doesn’t need to know you almost passed out with the effort of turning a key just now. 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles a little, standing above you. “Why from down there?” 

“‘T’s easier this way.” You hum, managing to free one foot, trying not to act winded by the action. 

Yuuta’s crouched in front of you then, a cold hand placed over your forehead. He frowns, helping you remove the other shoe and then gently tugging you up. 

“Sweet girl. You’re sick.” 

His tone is gently reprimanding. Like you’ve done something bad, though he isn’t angry. That something’s likely your failure to mention this sooner, going so far as to drive yourself all the way home from your work trip thirty minutes away. You hadn’t wanted to worry him. 

You can tell you were unsuccessful in that regard as you’re tugged softly but urgently to your room, half your weight held up by strong arms. You’re sure he’s itching to just carry you, but chose to avoid causing a fuss—a wise move. You dislike feeling weak on principle, plus you’re semi-delirious with fever. You’d have gotten mad. 

Once inside, Yuuta’s guiding you to sit on the bed, holding you up when your posture takes the consistency of a limp noodle. 

“Let’s get you out of your uniform, pretty.” His tone is soothing, though you aren’t thrilled by his intentions. 

With a groan and nod, you hold your arms up when he lifts them over your head how he wants, pulling off your shirt.

You’re immediately shivering, whining ‘T’s cold Yuu! as your hot skin’s exposed to air. 

“Sorry, sorry—” 

Yuuta turns a bit frantic when he finds the drawer he expected to find a sweatshirt in empty, deciding to just yank his own old emo band hoodie over his head and shove it over yours. You’re still shivering then, but he grits his teeth and yanks off your jeans, too.

You start crawling under the covers before he can even get you new pants, curling in a ball to conserve heat. Suddenly you feel like you’re made of ice. 

Yuuta looks pained, his brows stitched together. 

“Baby… you should’ve called me,” he tucks you in while he talks, throwing an additional quilt on top of your comforter. “I would have come to get you.” 

“I was doing fine! It’s not too bad.” 

You let out a cough, unable to hold it in. It’s raspy and Yuuta practically glares at the sound. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He disappears briefly then, reappearing with some water and medicine, as well as a cool, damp washcloth. 

He sits on the bed by your pillow, lifting you carefully so you barely have to try when you sit up to swallow the drugs, laying you back down just as gently. 

His touch is tender when he dots a kiss to your forehead before smoothing the towel over it, his hand lingering by your face to caress your cheek over and over. 

You grip his wrist while he does, holding his touch in place even after the stroking stops. There’s a silent bit while you let your eyes close, leaning your head against his palm. You really are starting to feel awful, but definitely cared for. 

“I should make you soup or something.” 

You honestly don’t have an appetite, though you likely should at this hour. 

“Rather you lay with me.” You murmur, peeking eyelids open with immense effort. 

Yuuta hums, his thumb resuming its stroking. 

Eventually, presumably after deciding whether soup was more important, you get a little okay, and his hand is pulled away so he can get under the covers next to you. 

Yuuta pulls you to his chest then, and you realize once again the gravity of your illness; you hadn’t even noticed that he’d been shirtless when he stripped off his hoodie. Normally you would have ogled at least a little. 

His skin feels cool to touch but you burrow yourself in his wide chest anyways, nuzzling your cheek over his heart while he readjusts your falling washcloth. You feel his lips on the top of your head. You feel his palms sliding soothingly over your back. You feel his all-consuming love nursing you better than any medicine could. 

#yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta fluff #yuta x reader #yuuta fic #caught the flu with yuu #< was a strong contender for a title here #🐞 writes

[eiightysixbaby]

I’m ready for fall Eddie. Eddie in warm cozy clothes, sweatshirts and flannels and sweaters that you buy for him because you think he’ll look good in them, beanies that flatten the hair at the top of his head but keep his ears from getting red with the cold. Eddie who loves taking you out to Lover’s Lake on chilly fall nights, cuddling up with you under blankets in the back of his van as rain hits the metal roof. Eddie agreeing to go to a pumpkin patch with you, picking out the perfect ones to carve and holding a cup of hot apple cider with gloved hands, holes cut out halfway up the fingers. Eddie helping you make your Halloween costumes, cutting fabric and stitching and sewing and gluing until they’re perfect. Eddie keeping you warm as he sits beside you at a bonfire at Steve’s house, roasting marshmallows for you and feeding them to you, swiping gooey white fluff from your lips with cold fingertips. Eddie carving pumpkins and setting them up outside of the trailer, lighting them up at night as he sits on the porch to smoke. Eddie who holds your hand through haunted houses to comfort you but ends up being the one who gets scared, pouting afterwards when you tease him. Eddie with flushed cheeks and a red nose, heavy boots crunching dried leaves on the sidewalk, tasting like hot chocolate and candy apples when he kisses you. Fall Eddie fall Eddie fall Eddie.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 13

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, angst, swearing, hockey violence, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies, legal inaccuracies. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Aaaa just one chapter to go and that’s basically an epilogue so this is the big one y’all. Thank you to every single person that’s read my work and enjoyed my characters. Y’all have changed my life and I can’t wait to keep sharing my stories with y’all 🥺❤️

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Your lips are red and irritated from how much you’ve been biting them. You’re bundled in one of Jake’s sweatshirts since you’re off duty tonight and curled up by the glass as you watch the boys during morning skate. Your eyes are glued to Jake, watching and analyzing every movement for any sign of pain or discomfort, but he looks alright.

“You’re going to chew through your lip if you keep that up.” You look up as Zam sits down next to you. She’s wearing the baby pink suit she’d been wearing the day you met, but her expression is grim. Her eyes follow you over to Jake and the other guys.

“Everything okay?” You ask and she gives a tired laugh.

“As okay as it always is. It’s the first preseason game, and sure there’s going to be press, less than there will be for the season opener but it’s our first game as a team. Everyone wants to see the team in action and get their opinions out there. Jake’s situation is just the cherry on top of my stress.” You give her a sympathetic look before looping one of your arms through hers, leaning your head on her shoulder, giving her arm a squeeze.

“I’m sure you’re going to do amazing. You’re the most capable person on this team, and that’s not an exaggeration.” She snorts, leaning her head against yours.

“Damn right, I am.” And the two of you share a laugh as you feel some of the weight lift off of your anxious heart. You look back up to see Jake watching the two of you, a soft smile on his face and he waves when he sees you notice him. You wave back, blowing him a kiss and he feigns catching it. The team knows you’re together, a choice that Jake was adamant about despite the obvious risks of someone running their mouth to the press. As for a public statement, Cyclone had been firmly against it, considering that it's probably the last thing that the media wants to hear about Jake right now next to the details of his injury.

Zam sits with you a bit longer, watching the boys skate before she takes her leave, back to work arranging the post-game press interviews. Cyclone had turned down requests for player interviews during the game itself stating that he needed his team completely focused on the match. He was most likely also doing his best to keep Jake from saying anything unsavory to the press before he could be there to nip it in the bud personally.

Practice stops for a break and Jake skates up to the glass where you’re sitting, pressing one massive glove to the surface and you stand up, pressing your own against it as he smiles at you. He’s in a good mood this morning all things considered but it makes sense. At his core Jake loves hockey you’re sure there’s a part of him that’s bouncing off the walls at being back on the ice, prepping for a game. You head out of the arena as Jake swings himself over the boards, heading back around to the staff entrance to meet him near the locker room. He’s even taller on his skates and you don’t reach as high when you give him a hug. He squeezes back before pulling back to pull off his gloves so he can take your hand in his, the skin-on-skin contact soothing your raw nerves. You follow him as he leads you to the locker room and asks you to wait outside. He comes back, sans helmet and gloves and holding a familiar-looking bundle of fabric in his hand.

“This is for you, Bunny, for tonight.” He hands you the bundle and you unfold the jersey carefully, holding it out so you can see it better. It's in your size instead of his, but his name and number are still emblazoned on the back.

“Jake,” you give him a rueful smile. “You know I can’t wear this tonight. There’ll be press everywhere and Cyclone will go ballistic-“

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “Fuck Cyclone, you’re my girl and you should be allowed to wear my jersey. I want you to wear my jersey.” Your heart aches at the words and you nod, clutching the fabric to your chest.

“I’ll be proud to wear it.” You fold it back up before giving Jake another hug. “I’ve always been proud to wear your number, and I always will be.” He pulls you closer and you take a moment to just soak him in until Javy’s voice calling Jake back up the tunnel breaks the silence. “I love you, Jake” you whisper, reaching up to stroke his cheek, gently. “Be safe tonight, but most of all have fun out there.” Jake returns your soft smile as he kisses your palm and then your nose and lips.

“I love you too, Bunny. I’ll play for both of us tonight. We’re a team, remember?” Your smile widens and you nod at him, hoping your eyes convey all the love that your lips can’t convey as he heads back up the tunnel.

***

You make your way down the tunnel. You’re off duty tonight but that doesn’t stop you from flashing your employee ID and heading back to see the team. You’ve got Jake’s hoodie over his jersey for the time being. The boys are already on the ice, warming up and Zam gives you a wave as you make your way up. The cameras and crowd are all focused on the rink so you stand next to Zam as she watches the boys warming up. Maverick and Dare are standing behind the bench, chatting with Dr. Bates. Cyclone and Iceman are sitting next to each other, both intently watching the ice. Iceman notices you and gives you a wave. You wave back, wondering how much he knows about what’s going on. Then he beckons you over to where he’s sitting and you give Zam a look before climbing over the bench to sit next to Iceman.

“Even if you’re off duty tonight, no need to miss out on a good seat.” He says as you get comfortable. You’re torn between keeping on Jake’s hoodie since Cyclone is just on the other side of Ice but then Jake’s words from earlier come back to you. “You’re my girl and you should be allowed to wear my jersey. I want you to wear my jersey.” With that thought, you shrug off Jake’s sweatshirt, smoothing it over your lap, sitting a little straighter as you meet Jake’s eyes across the ice. Even from where you’re sitting you can see the grin spread across his face and he raises a fist in your direction that you mirror, no longer afraid of who sees. “Congratulations,” Ice says with a fond smile in your direction. You feel your cheeks warm and his eyes on the back of your jersey.

“Thank you,” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Jake as your fingers play with the fabric of the sweatshirt on your lap. You feel like you can feel every eye in the stadium on you, but you know that's just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re in the staff section, not sitting with the other wives and girlfriends where you’d originally planned on sitting. Zam flashes you a smile as she climbs up and settles in next to you. The game’s about to start and you can tell the audience is buzzing. Even though the Dogfighters are brand new, the stands are packed but your eyes fall on plenty of Predators fans who have taken advantage of the lack of die-hard fans. Your parents are somewhere among them. Originally, they’d planned to come down for the season opener but had changed their minds last minute. The chance to see two of their children at once didn’t come often, so while they were here, you hadn’t been able to score them family-and-friends tickets so they’re somewhere you can’t see. The boys start skating back towards the bench, swinging over the boards so the pre-game ceremony can begin. Jake shoots you a grin and a fistbump that you return as the lights in the area dim.

You’re distracted with nerves as the pre-show begins. You hear the electric guitar riff begin as a projection of snow-covered ice plays over the rink, and a dozen paw prints pierce the surface before a huge invisible slaw slashes the Dogfighter’s logo across the projected ice. Images of the players are up on the jumbotron, spliced with clips from practice and you have to hand it to the media team. There’s no way to tell that Jake has been absent from a majority of practices. The audience remains none-the-wiser as they cheer for the Dogfighters. Then it’s time for the boys to get on the ice and the cheers are deafening as Jake’s called up first, his megawatt grin blinding on the jumbotron as he skates onto the ice. The rest of the team joins him one by one until all twenty players are on the ice. The show ends and you watch all but the six starters skate back over to the bench as Nashville’s six starters take their positions.

Jake is starting with the rest of the first line. As the team’s centre, he’ll handle the faceoff. Flanking him are the wingers, Reuben to his left and Mickey to his right. Behind them are Bradley on the left and Javy on the right. Bob’s in the net tonight. You recognize most of the boys on the Predators starting line, but your brother’s still on the bench. You feel a twinge of pride that Jake’s made the first line of the Dogfighters but on paper, between him and Tucker, Jake’s easily the better player. The whistle blows and they're off. Jake gets control of the puck easily, and the Dogfighters move toward the Predators’s net. Even knowing his knee isn’t in peak condition, it’s hard to tell with how well he’s moving tonight and you find yourself getting caught up in watching him the way you always have. You've seen him play in person before but never this close up. When he vaults over the boards for a line change, he meets your eyes with his and you’ve never seen him look so alive. Your eyes ask about his leg and he gives you a look that tells you he’s fine and you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. However, you know enough about hockey to not let your guard down entirely.

***

The first period ends without incident. The Dogfighters are up 2 to 0. Jake scored one of the two goals, and spirits were high in the locker room during intermission. Now, it’s halfway through the second period and the Predators have tied things up at 2-2. Tensions are high on the bench and you can tell Cyclone is actively fighting to stay calm and let Maverick and Dare do their jobs. Maverick still doesn’t look too worried but Dare’s face is a mask of stone. Unlike Maverick, this isn’t her first rodeo and while she’s been doing her best to let Maverick make most of the calls, he seems more than happy to hand her the reigns and you can tell that he’s lightly overwhelmed. Penalties have been handed out here and there throughout the game so far. Bradley took the first one of the night for roughing with one of the Nashville defencemen. Zam’s lips had been pressed tightly in a line when he placed the hit. You couldn’t blame her. Bradley Bradshaw isn’t exactly known for rough play. He took more of an enforcer role with the Flyers, more likely to fight back and deter violent altercations than outright provoking opponents and attacking them. Mickey took a penalty for hooking at the beginning of the period in response to Reuben getting tripped by a Predators player at the end of the first period that went uncalled by the ref. You can tell the two wingers are fiercely protective of each other.

Since then, the Predators have been picking more fights, and you’re on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to Jake when he’s on the ice.

When the hit happens, you feel time slow. One of Nashville’s wingers hooks Jake with his stick and Jake loses his balance, falling onto his bad knee as one of their defencemen checks him into the boards. You watch Jake crumple and you’re moving without realizing. You hear people yelling after you but your body is moving entirely on its own as you vault the boards, feet slipping as you attempt to sprint across the ice to Jake. You’re screaming yourself but you’re not sure if there are words involved, at least any intelligible ones. You almost make it to Jake before a pair of arms wrap around your waist and you’re kicking and screaming as the person holding you tries to pull you away from Jake. Javy and Jake’s voices are calling for you to calm down and amidst your thrashing, you see the number 23 on the white helmet and now you’re actively clawing at your restrainer. “Tucker get your fucking hands off me! Let me go!” You wriggle and kick at your older brother’s knees until he lets you go and you almost collapse on the ice, your feet slipping as you fall to your knees beside where Javy’s crouching by Jake. Play has long since stopped since you literally ran onto the ice in the middle of the game. “Jake, are you okay?” Your eyes are wide and frantic, immediately moving to inspect his leg. “Can you move your knee?”

“Bunny,” his voice cuts through the blur of voices around you and you look up to see his green eyes filled with concern and shock that you’re here. “Sweetheart, you can’t be here.”

“I’m a physician, I think I’m allowed.” You say, your voice trembling as the reality of what you’ve just done hits you.

“Sweetheart?!” Tucker’s shocked voice behind you registers and you turn, fixing him with a firm glare.

“Tuck? Do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up.” His eyebrows go straight up as you turn back to Jake. You and Tucker are close, closer than you are with your eldest brother, Charlie. You should probably give him a call after this because you’re probably going to need a world of legal counsel after tonight is over. “I said can you move your knee, Jake?” He nods and you press gently at his knee over his pants. “Any pain?” You ask as the voices behind you get louder and then there’s another pair of arms wrapping around your forearm and you turn to see the ref scowling at you and you sigh, scowling back. “I’m in the middle of tending to my patient if you don’t mind.” You hear Jake suck in a sharp breath at your clipped tone.

“You can tend to your patient when he’s back on the bench. Come on now, young lady, let’s get you off the ice.”

Jake speaks up then, as Javy and Mickey help him to his feet. “That’s doctor, to you.” His voice is firm and leaves little room for argument and the ref shoots him a look before turning back to you.

“Alright then doctor, let’s get you out of here.” He helps you up and you attempt to follow after him but since you’re in your sneakers and the adrenaline that propelled you across the ice before is now nonexistent, you slip and almost face-plant on the rink before a pair of arms scoops you up. Tucker gives you a grim smile as he carries you back over to the Dogfighter’s bench, depositing you safely on the other side of the boards. You turn back to return his smile in silent thanks as Javy, Jake, and Mickey make it to the boards as well and help Jake through the tiny door to the end of the bench where Dr. Bates is waiting. You start toward him until Cyclone steps in front of you, his face is one of barely-concealed fury. He grabs your arm roughly and you wince at the strength and force of his grip as he starts to drag you towards the tunnel. His body shields yours from Jake’s eye line, but Tucker clocks your reaction from where he’s lingering on the other side of the boards and his eyes harden.

“Hey!” he yells. “Get your hands off my sister!” Heads immediately turn your way and then Jake’s up and in your line of sight, his face a mask of fury as he steps between you and Cyclone and shoves him against the edge of the tunnel, hard. Cyclone’s hand releases your arm amidst the confusion and you step back, letting Jake’s body shield you from him.

“Get your hands off my girl, or I swear to god I’m going to cause more than just a scene.” Jake’s voice is cold, calculated, and void of emotion even as he growls the threat in Cyclone’s face. It’s low enough that you still catch the words but you know the audience pressed up against the glass next to you probably can’t. Maverick and Dare are on Jake then, pushing you back farther down the tunnel, out of sight as they pull Jake off Cyclone, his green eyes icy as he steps away easily, turning to look at you as you creep back towards the locker room and he gives you an encouraging nod as you turn and disappear.

***

The game ends up continuing after a lengthy intermission during which the ice is cleaned and Zam and Ice have a lengthy discussion with the referees and the Predators’s leadership. Jake sits out the rest of the game, spending the rest of the second period on the bench until Dr. Bates escorts him down the tunnel to give him a more thorough check-up in the examination room where you’re waiting with shaking hands. You’ve been keeping up with the game via a livestream on your phone and the Dogfighters are up 3-2.

When Jake and Dr. Bates come in you stand from where you’ve been hunched over a stool. He asks you to grab some of his equipment from his office but you reveal that you’ve already prepped everything he needs to examine Jake and you move to assist him. He makes no effort to deter you from helping. You keep your eyes on Jake’s knee as he answers Dr. Bates’s questions and watch him for any physical responses that might contradict his verbal ones. Everything seems to match, however, both you and Dr. Bates recommend Jake stay on the bench for the rest of the game just in case. Now that you know that Jake is really, truly fine, you let out the breath you’ve been holding since he first got hit and Dr. Bates stands from where he’s been seated, examining Jake’s leg, turning to you. “I’ll give the two of you a moment, but Jake needs to be back in the arena in five.” You give him a thankful look as you nod. Once he’s gone you finally look at Jake, and the tears you see in his eyes nearly bring you to your knees. You throw yourself into the safety of his arms and he pulls you close.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I know I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t even realize I had until it was too late.” You’re crying now and you feel your whole body shaking as Jake just shakes his head where it’s buried in your hair.

“Nothing to apologize for, Bunny. You just scared me, is all.” He presses a kiss against your hair, gently. “My brave girl, so fucking fearless.” You let out a watery giggle at that and Jake pulls away from you gently to wipe away your tears with his big, smelly gloves. You wrinkle your nose at the smell as he laughs and pulls them off and you keen at the warmth of his bare palms against your cheek as he holds your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your nose before you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in the sweaty hair at the back of his neck and hauling his mouth against yours. The kiss is slow and sensual but full of all the desperation that the two of you are feeling. “I love you so much, Bunny.” He whispers against your lips and you echo the sentiment before pulling away from him. You know everything changes once this game ends and you’re terrified to see what the future will bring but whatever it is, you know you’ll face it together. You help Jake to his feet and walk him back to the locker room where the rest of the team is heading back up the tunnel.

Maverick and Dare come out last and Maverick follows the boys but Dare hangs back, coming up to you. The two of you have traded a few words here and there but she’s never really spoken to you one-on-one. She gives you a tired smile that you mirror tentatively before she speaks. “What you did today was really brave. Being with someone like Jake isn’t going to be easy and you’re going to have to fight your way forward at every step, but it looks like you’re a fighter and that’s a good thing.” You smile wider at that, thanking her. She sighs and you see a faraway look in her eyes as she remarks. “I should have fought harder. Sometimes I wonder what my life would look like if I did.” Your heart aches at that.

“Did you miss him, when he was gone?” You can't help the question that leaves your lips and Dare turns to you, surprised. You give her an embarrassed shrug.

“Mav told us when he had Jake and I over at his house for dinner.” You see an indecipherable emotion pass over her face before she schools her face back into a polite smile.

“I do.” She says before she reaches over to give your shoulder a squeeze, heading back up the tunnel and leaving you behind her.

***

You spend the rest of the game in your office, watching the live stream at your desk and fighting every impulse to start packing up the small space. You promised Jake that you would fight together and Dare had just told you to be prepared to do the same, and despite your strong intentions to do just that, there’s a small part of your brain that tells you to prepare for the worst. The game ends with a score of 4-2 in the Dogfighters’s favor. You wish you could be out there celebrating with the team as you watch the cameras pan to the boys jumping all over each other in excitement. You hear them noisily making their way back to the locker room and yet you force yourself to stay in your office even after you hear them exit just as noisily. You’re forcing yourself to work on some paperwork to kill time when a familiar voice comes from your phone. You’d forgotten to turn off the live stream once the game ended and now Jake’s on the screen, giving what seems to be a post-game interview.

“When I came to San Diego, I was in a pretty dark place. I was suffering from an MCL tear that had been untreated since the playoffs back in June. I’d put my trust in the wrong people and gotten hurt and I wasn’t ready to trust a brand new team quite yet, I just knew I needed to leave Dallas and San Diego seemed like the best bet. What I didn’t know was that my life was about to change for the better. Throughout my career, I’ve worked with a lot of physicians but none of them cared about their patients the way Bugs does. I mean, you all saw her tonight. She wasn’t even working tonight but she literally ran onto the ice because she was worried about my knee. I haven’t given her the easiest time. When we first met I was stubborn and probably gave her a lot of trouble that she didn’t need or deserve but she kept pushing, trying to get me to trust her so that she could help me because that’s just the kind of doctor that she is. She’s brilliant and talented and so dedicated to her patients that I was stupid enough to fall head over heels in love with her.” Your breath catches. “And, you see, she could tell, because she’s that smart, and she told me it would just get both of us in a world of trouble and she could even lose her job, so I tried. I really tried not to, but when you meet the love of your life, I don’t think you get much of a say in whether or not you fall for them. And then I got so, so lucky because she fell in love with me too.” The tears you’ve been holding back all night are falling now, making silent tracks down your face as you listen to Jake’s words and let them wash over you. “But obviously I didn’t want her to get into any trouble so we went to our PR rep because I’d never ask Bugs to choose me over her career. So we hired Dr. Bates and he’s been taking good care of me since and I’ve been lucky enough to be loved by someone as exquisite and talented as Bugs. I’m so proud of her and I love her so much. It’s such a privilege to be her partner and teammate.” You sob as Jake finishes his speech and when he looks right into the camera you know he’s looking at you.

For once you feel as fearless as Jake seems to think you are and you drop your phone on your desk, forgotten, as you sprint for the door because you need to get to him. You race down the hall to the area where you know the post-game interviews are being held and Jake’s smiling at the cameras as they flash. A few other players are standing around in their suits but the cameras and attention are all on Jake. You pause as you reach the edge of the crowd but Jake’s eyes find you easily and you watch his face brighten into a huge grin as he holds out his arms and then you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him, hurling yourself into his warm embrace as he holds you close, the back of his jersey facing the cameras and declaring to the world that you’re Jake’s girl.

“Hey, sweet girl.” He whispers into your hair.

“I love you, Jake, I love you so much.” You whisper back and you don’t care if the microphones pick it up because you’d shout it from the rooftops if given the chance. You love Jake and he loves you, there’s nothing else in the world that matters. You hear the interviewer in the background introducing you to the world as Jake Seresin’s girlfriend and your heart aches with joy as you turn in his arms, head held high, ready to face the world.

A/N: AAAAAAAAA, god I loved this chapter so much 🥹 And the cameo from Tucker, we love to see it

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #sgs // sdd #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

[polymorphiczooid]

Marcille's frog suit is complete! This was my third-ever project using a sewing machine, so I've put a bit on my process for suit and staff-making below.

The Body: I drafted a pattern from a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants (somewhat following these tutorials: 1 2). From this I made a truly terrible mock-up from a fitted sheet -managing to sew the arms on inside out (twice, in two different ways). I also learned that the back panels need to be larger than the front panel, to accommodate the butt.

Originally, I wanted to make this out of raincoat material or pvc fabric to get that slimy frogskin look. I couldn't find any in the right color (or price), so I went with a cheap polyester satin. I think latex might have been also been a good alternative, but I've never worked with it before.

To get the white patterns on the frog, I just eyeballed where I thought the stripes should go on the paper pattern and cut it into smaller pieces (which I had to tape back together when I made the lining - this time out of blue bed sheet).

In the manga, there are large visible stitches in front. To mimic this, I decided to have the front lace with a thick cord. This meant I needed to install gromets on the front opening - but I was worried the hardware would tear right through the fragile satin. To prevent this, I reinforced the opening with a strip of denim encased in red cotton.

The smart thing to do would make the front zip up, and add a panel of fake lacing over the top. Since I didn't, 1) it takes a while to put on, and 2) the suit gapes open in places.

Frog Head: I spent a lot of time trying to figure this out - but in the end, I went with a very simple construction.

The hood consists of four main panels: the frog-shaped front and back panels of the outer hood, and two red panels for the inner hood. I 1) attached the white and orange parts of the outer panels 2) sewed the outerpanels together, and the inner hood panels together 3) cut a hole for my face out of the front outer panel, 4) sewed the edge of the inner hood panels to the face hole, 6) stuffed with batting from an old pillow, 6) added some extra fabric to close the hood under the chin.

I didn't quite get the shape right - the eyes should be rounder/ protrude less, and the cheeks/marcille's ears should sit lower down on the head. I think adding an extra panel to the back of the head would help it sit better. It's pretty 2D in profile, so my face sticks out of it too much.

Finally, using a stretch fabric for the inner hood (or a drawstring, that could tighten the hood itself) could make the hood fit snugly around the face. My hood was too loose, and I constantly had to adjust its position.

The frog eyes were also a bit tricky. The satin frayed to much to add large decorative stitching, so I had to sew little pieces of cord individually to the eyes. I probably should have made these smaller and more numerous...but my fingers were pretty sore form hand sewing.

The Shoes: I decided to make some boot covers for my docs, because making shoes from scratch is beyond my skill level.

I made a pattern by wrapping one shoe in a plastic back, then masking tape, and tracing out what looked like some important seam lines. I sewed all the pieces together except for top of the shoe, which I left open so 1) bagline the show cover, and 2) sew in the frog toes.

The toes themselves were sewn out of cotton and, stuffed with batting and old crochet squares. Then everything except the toe-tip was covered in orange satin. I did this since I was worried that the satin would not play nice with paint (foreshadowing). The toe-tips were then painted with a mix of black acryllic and liquid latex (for flexibility).

To keep the shoe covers on the shoes, I added some elastic around the bottom (salvaged from a fitted sheet). They also needed to close in the back - but I didn't have and velcro or zippers and I was running low on gromets. Instead, I made some loops out of scrap leather to run the lacing through. This looked cool but it was really hard to lace up myself!

Gloves: These were made the day before the convention, and are terribly slapdash.

Normally when you make gloves out of non-stretch fabric you need to add gussets to allow your hands bend, without the gloves being too loose. I did not do that. I just traced my hand on the fabric, and gave myself big finger pads and plenty of ease. They turned out pretty meh!

One issue was the finger pads themselves: it's hard to sew in a circle, so they were lumpy in shape. This lumpiness was enhanced by the way I stuffed them: just shoving stuffing into the finger tips. which is also where my fingers have to go. So every time I took the gloves on and off, the fingertips would get out of shape. I think hollowed foam balls would have been a better choice for the finger tips.

In addition, I painted the fingertips with the same latex/acrylic mixture I used on the toes. While it dried just fine on the cotton, the paint remained really sticky - so they picked up dust and peeled rather badly.

The gloves only had four fingers in the manga, so that's what I went with. But it was pretty uncomfortable with the pinky+ring finger sharing a home, and it didn't even look good.

Ambrosia (the staff): This was a real last-minute addition to the costume, done the night before the convention.

The base is a wooden dowel, and the hoop in a long tube of cotton fabric that I stuffed very firmly. I anted to make sure the hoop wouldn't fall off, so I "drilled" a hold near the tip of the staff (I.e. I shoved a screwdriver through the soft wood like an animal), and added grommets to each end of the stuffed cotton tube. I then created a tight mechanical join by running leftover cord though one grommet, then the dowel, and then the other grommet before tying it off.

Next, I wrapped a ton of different materials around the hoop and body of the staff: coord, twine, paper florist "rope", and paper-covered florist wire, etc. This was secured with an ungodly amount of hot glue. When possible, I tried to new strands under pre-existing ones for some extra security. I really like how wrapping the cord around the soft-hoop created the impression of vines growing around a living branch.

I painted the staff in three layers: base coat of red-brown, then a "wash" of watery black acrylic , and a dry brush of a lighter brown. I did not do a good job getting the paint evenly over the surface! From some angles the white cotton is still very visible, and I probably should have painted it before wrapping anything around it.

The sprout was made by sewing two leaf-shapes out of cotton, hot gluing it to a small snip of florist paper, and then hot gluing the stem to the hoop. Not bad for a rush job!

Overall: I think the feet and staff came out the best! People recognized me at the convention too, which is always the real test.

#dungeon meshi #marcille donato #frog suit #cosplay #tutorial #my art

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 2 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warning: angstttttt

A/n: Enjoy! This hasn't been edited thoroughly so apologies in advance for typos!

Word Count: 3.5k

Charlotte’s chest heaved lightly as she finished her run, her music blaring loudly in her headphones. She savored the ache in her muscles, the painful stitch in her side that had been there since mile 3, the hard concrete slamming into her feet with every step, the brutal cold wind hitting her face. 

She almost did not want to stop when she rounded the corner to her temporary apartment building. However, she had exceeded her usual distance so she knew she needed to. However, she was shocked at what she found waiting at her door. 

Her eyes grew wide as she saw Michael standing outside her apartment building, coffee and a brown bag gripped in his gloved hands. 

“M-Michael?” She called, catching his attention. Her breaths and words were labored as she jogged over to him. “W-hat… are you… doing here?” 

“Damn girl, you training to be a boxer too or trying to outrun something? Looks like you’re about to drop dead.” 

She laughed, coughing lightly. “I f-feel like it. Ran six miles.” 

His eyes bugged out of his head. “That’s insane.” 

She shrugged and laughed lightly, “You might be right about that… but you didn’t come all the way over here to judge me for my running habits. What’s up?” 

He nodded. “Ah. right. I come bearing your favorites… your favorite bacon, egg and cheese bagel from down the street and a chai with one shot of espresso and an extra pump of chai.” He raised the bag and coffee in his hands with his perfect award-winning boyish grin that made her want to go weak in the knees. 

“Well done, Mr. Jordan.” She could not hide the hint of surprise in her voice as she took the warm drink out of the holder and took a sip, warmth spreading through her body. “It is quite literally perfect. How’d you figure out my chai order?” 

He laughed. “You have one like every single morning.” 

“Touche. J-just didn't realize you noticed,” she smiled. She gestured toward the door. “Wanna get out of the cold?” 

At his nods, she led him inside and up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and allowed him inside. 

“Let me just throw on a different top? This one is drenched. Give me a sec.” She started to take off the thick sweatshirt she had on and ran back to her room, leaving Michael alone in her kitchen. 

He glanced around, his first time in her apartment. The decor was warm, soft pinks and golds accented her neutral standard furniture throughout her living space. He spied a couple family photos littered across the space, he imagined to make the space feel more like home. She clearly took time to make the temporary space feel like a home. He took note of two bouquets of calla lilies on her counter and living room table. 

“Alright, sorry about that. I sweat like crazy when I run… it is pretty gross,” she muttered as she walked over to her counter and grabbed a few plates for them. 

“I didn’t know you were a runner.” 

“Yea,  I run a couple miles every morning.” 

“Oh nice. You do marathons too?” 

She shook her head and chuckled, “Nope. Just to decompress. When I moved out to LA, my thera- friend recommended I get a hobby. My brother’s the marathon runner so he introduced me to his favorite running trails. Got me out of bed and out of my own head honestly.” 

She walked over to her fridge. With her back turned, she could not see the way Michael’s eyes filled with lust as he took in her perfect ass and figure in her leggings and crop top. 

There were moments were he wondered if the young woman in front of him had magical powers. Her looks and talents were other worldly in his view, no woman even looked remotely attractive to him since she walked into that room for their chemistry test. However, it was not just lust. He craved her, craved everything about her, noticed everything about her. There was not a subject in his mind that did not somehow drift back to her. She consumed his very being in such a way that it could only be witchcraft… or something else he had never felt before. If this was love, part of him feared it, feared how much power she already held in his life and did not even know it.

“Nice… I gotta get a couple miles in tomorrow, keep up the training. Why don’t we run together?” 

“I dunno… not sure you’ll be able to keep up,” she teased, winking at him as she handed him a water bottle.

“Ha. ha. ha. We’ll see whose talking shit tomorrow.” 

She settled next to him, unwrapping her breakfast sandwich and taking a bite. She did a small happy dance as the flavors hit her taste buds. 

“I think I’m gonna miss this the most when it’s all said and done,” she mused as they ate. “And not that I’m not insanely appreciative of the breakfast and latte delivery, what made you stop by?” 

She studied his profile for a moment. This was the first time they spent real alone time together since the kiss over the weekend. She had avoided him like the plague unless they were actively working on a scene. She could tell he often wanted to speak to her. He was the type to wear his emotions plainly on his face. However, she chose to remain oblivious and used any excuse to avoid being alone with him. She knew it was childish… and unfair. But she did not know what to say to him. 

She knew her heart’s desires. She wanted him in every possible way she could have him. But her head, the voice of reason that still questioned her gut and intuition, threw water and doubt on the raging flames of her desires. And her body, trapped between her present and constant yearnings for him and the traumas of the past, rode the fence like a devil’s advocate. One minute, her body craved him like a dying dehydrated woman craves water. But the next, she repelled him as all of her past shit haunted her like a menacing ghost. Each part of her played an intense and exhausting game of tug-a-war and none of them were winning. 

And she hated it. But she knew she did not have anything better to give him. 

“You caught me. I was hoping your favorite breakfast would be a sort of olive branch? I didn’t want to bring it up on set cause you know, we’re working and I don’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. But I know you’ve been avoiding me and I just want to clear the air so we can be good again.”

Charlotte nervously chuckled, “Nah I haven’t.” He raised an eyebrow causing her to bow her head. “Alright… maybe I have. I-I just feel r-really embarrassed by the other night. C-coming on to you like that. Got caught up in the character I guess. I mean,” she cleared her throat, eyeing him nervously. “W-we are just friends, right?” 

 Michael studied her for a moment, his eyes taking in the nervous energy that immediately settled around the young woman. Her whole body seemed to fidget as she waited for his response, she chewed her lip, her fingers pulled at a loose thread in her top, and her leg jiggled up and down against her bar stool. He could physically see the tension building throughout her shoulders. 

He wanted to push, let her know that he did not want her apologizes or embarrassment. He wanted to know her true feelings for him and why she kept him at bay. However, something stopped him. While he was not completely certain of her feelings, he was certain of one thing: her walls and guard were up. And there was no hope of forcing them down. She would have to let them down and let him in when she was ready. And for him, she was more than worth the wait. 

His head fell a bit as he opted for a response that was not his true feelings but satisfied what she needed to hear. “No apologies, seriously. We wouldn’t be the first folks to you know… get caught up in the moment. All good seriously. I j-just wanted to say the same. We cool?” 

Charlotte nodded, an odd wave of relief and sadness crashing over her. This was what she wanted right? What she pushed for? So why did it still feel so… shitty?

“Y-yea we’re good. How could I have beef with someone who brings me a perfect chai and my favorite breakfast??” She nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime. Aight. I gotta go, gotta get to set in half an hour. Just wanted to drop off breakfast and check in. Talk later?” 

She nodded, standing to walk him to her door. They shared a brief hug before he crossed over the threshold of her apartment. 

“Yep, talk later. Thanks again for the breakfast delivery.” 

He nodded, offering her a smile. “Enjoy your day off, Els.” 

She waved at him and watched his back retreat for a moment before she closed her door. She slumped against it and glanced at her half eaten sandwich and drink, another example of his attentiveness and kindness. This only made her like him even more. 

“This man… gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” she muttered to herself before returning to finish her breakfast.

***

3 weeks later 

“You good?” 

Michael’s voice filled Charlotte’s ears as she flopped down next to him on a comfy couch in the corner. Her cup was filled with a margarita, she was not ashamed to admit she had lost count of the amount by this point. But she did not care. She survived her first movie and they were enjoying the official wrap party for the film. She deserved a night of liquor and good times. 

“Y-yea, yea,” she leaned over and yelled into his ear. “My feet are just killing me in these boots.” She gestured to the very fashionable but not functional deep purple velvet thigh highs she was supporting with a black mini dress. 

Michael’s eyes trailed the smooth chestnut skin on display between the hem of her dress and the top of her boots. He was nearly rendered speechless when she walked through the door. 

“No pain, no gain, right?” 

She nodded and raised her glass, clinking against his. She slumped back into the seat, their bodies inching closer and closer together as they sat. Neither of them seemed to even notice, they just drifted together as if that was the only logical choice, the only thing their bodies could naturally do. 

Charlotte was happy filming was over but it meant she would not have a reason to spend time with Michael each day. And she could not deny that that knowledge made her a bit sad. Despite the kiss snafu, they had grown extremely close over the last three months. They had started running together, the friendly competition forcing them both to train harder; they hung out when they had evenings off, watching movies in Michael's apartment; and they hung out nonstop on set. He was a regular staple in her life and all of that would be gone. She knew she needed distance to put these feelings behind her but she was not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Charlotte’s shoulders swayed gently to the music, her eyes watching many in the cast and crew who were out on the dance floor. 

Michael watched her before taking a last swig from his drink and standing up. 

“One last dance before we put Bianca and Adonis to rest?” He held out his hand. She knew she should say no. This was merely courting bad decisions. 

She knew he could never see her the way she saw him. He deserved someone far better than her. However, she could not deny the part of her that wanted to be close to him physically and emotionally, certainly closer than they were at this moment.  A decision that would likely lead her to ruin, she was sure, but the alcohol coursing through her system pushed the hesitations from her mind. For the first time in a long time, Charlotte chose to give in to her true desires, give in to her heart. And her heart wanted to be in his arms, even if it was fleeting. 

She stood up and slid her hand into his, a smirk on her face as she took in the surprised look on his. It was clear he was expecting her to say no or at least hesitate. But she did neither. 

She discarded her drink on their table and followed him out to the crowd, the song switching to a slower selection. That did nothing to stop either of them, Michael turning her around so her back was to him. His hands gripped her hips as she slow grinned into him, both of them allowing the music to guide their movements. 

Charlotte pushed all her inhibitions and fears out of her mind as she enjoyed the feeling of his body on hers. And enjoyed it for the first time as herself - not a fictional woman in love his character. This was as intimate and close as she had been with any man in years. She enjoyed the way his hand gripped her skin, the way the other trailed up and down the exposed skin of her thigh sensually, the feeling of his broad chest against her back. 

For both of them, this was perfection. Neither one of them cared or noticed the cast and crew ogling their intimate moment. The rest of the world seemed to disappear and fade, it was just the two of them in their own little world. 

Their dancing only stopped as Michael used his grip to turn her around so she faced him. His hand went to the small of her back as he held her flush against his chest. Charlotte almost wanted to look away as she took in the intensity in his eyes. She could see the lust, his desires for her clear as day. But they were mixed with something else, something she could not quite place. 

Desire and yearning passed between them as they stared at each other in the dim club. Their bodies left no space for God or any other deity to fit between them. Michael’s hand cupped her face, holding her gaze to his, as he lowered his lips to hers. 

“Michael…” she whimpered. Whether it was intended to urge him to pause or beckon him forward, he did not know and quite frankly, neither did she. 

However, when their lips met, she had no intention of telling him to stop. It was somehow both everything and nothing like she remembered. Still perfect, still gentle but there was a more intense hunger to it. As if three months of feelings buried and avoided were finally surfacing for them both and they were trying to cram all of it into one kiss. As if this one kiss could say everything that needed to be said.

She savored every millisecond that his lips were on hers, that his hands were on her body, and that she felt the intimacy she had been deprived of for far too many years. 

When they finally broke apart, Charlotte felt flustered and out of breath. She stared at him for a moment before reality set in for her and all those hesitations came rushing back. 

His thumb caressed her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “It’s not the characters for me, Els. It never was… I want you.” 

Her body stilled as she took in his words. His words sent her inebriated and flustered mind into an immediate tailspin, spinning out of control as all those hesitations she pushed aside resurfaced. And though, all she wanted to say was “I want you too,” the words were lodged in her throat. Her own doubts not allowing them to surface. She had fallen into the sea of him but she did not feel worthy of such gentle waters. And every thought circulating through her mind seemed to confirm that feeling.  

He’s lying, a harsh voice entered her brain. He can’t mean that. You’re just a cheap score for him, another notch in his belt. 

He’ll toss you aside like trash the moment he’s done with you. 

As if anyone would actually want you. 

Charlotte pushed against his chest, creating space between the two of them as she rapidly shook her head. 

“U-Um… I a-am… I’m so sorry. I gotta go.” Her words were rushed and flustered as she ran out of the crowded club, weaving and pushing her way through the crowd to get out. 

Her hand pressed into her chest as it started to tighten as if she was about to have a panic attack. Her breathing was labored as she finally found a random door and pushed her way outside, the cold Philly air hitting her. 

She leaned against the wall of a dim alley, her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself down. She was so wrapped up in her own head that she did not hear the door open until he started calling her name. 

“Els! Els!” 

She immediately tried to walk away from him until she heard him again. 

“CHARLOTTE! Stop walkin’!” He demanded, stopping her in her tracks. 

She turned around, an exasperated and pained look painted on her face. “What??” 

“You gotta level with me, Charlotte. Tell me what’s wrong? Is it somethin’ I did o-or said?? Because you can’t experience what we just did,” he gestured back toward the party, which was still in full swing, “And tell me that there is nothing between us! O-or that is just our characters or some shit. Be honest with me. What's goin' on?” 

Charlotte paced as he spoke, her hand running through her faux locs as she tried to calm her mind enough to speak to him. However, she knew she could not give him the answers he sought, not in this drunken and emotional state. 

“I-I just can’t do this, Michael.” Her hand waved between the two of them. “So p-please j-just drop it!” 

“W-why can’t you do it?? What I feel when I’m with you,” he offered, closing the distance between them and causing Charlotte to back up against the wall. “Is unlike anything else I’ve experienced in my entire life. Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same. Say it and I’ll walk away, I swear. And I’ll never bring it up again. But you need to say it, Charlotte. You need to tell me you don't want me.” 

Charlotte’s brown eyes met his and she tried, tried to force the words she so desperately needed to say from her soul but she could not. Because those words would be a lie. She needed him like her body needed air to breath. But she also could not bring herself to say that either. Both roads led her to destinations her soul was simply not ready for, lead her to potential heartbreak she could not handle again. And so her vocal cords just seemed to refuse to work.

“I-I…” she struggled. “S-stop doing this to me,” she whispered. “Please, I-I can’t take it.” 

He scoffed, his frustration with the small woman before him getting the better of him. 

“Doing what? Loving you? W-wanting to be with you??” 

Her eyes grew wide as the word ‘love’ hit her like a train. 

“That! Y-You don’t l-love me! You c-can’t! A-and you shouldn’t. I-I’m doing you a favor.” she nodded to herself as if she were convincing herself and him. “I d-don’t d-deserve you.” Her voice grew small as all of his words came back to haunt her. It did not feel as though two years had passed. It felt as if he was standing right beside her still whispering the same things in her ear. 

She could hear his voice taunting her, calling her worthless, telling her that no one could ever love someone like her and that they would discard her the moment they realized what she truly was. His refrains reminding her that she did not deserve love rang loudly in her ears, drowning out any and everything Michael said to her. 

A flash of pain crossed Michael’s face as he took in her words. How could she think that? Or say that about herself? He could visibly see her folding in on herself, her guards raising higher and higher than he could hope to climb in one night. 

“Els… look at me, please,”she heard the desperation in his voice, this was the most vulnerable she had ever heard him. However, her ironclad resolve would not allow her to lift her eyes from the ground. She had to do this, for both of their sakes. 

“Y-You d-deserve better t-than me. Y-You don’t want me,” she whispered, her voice sounding lifeless and robotic as if she were regurgitating words someone else supplied to her, repeating a script she barely believed herself but had to sell anyway. 

Michael felt his heart splinter a bit. He supposed it truly was love because no woman had broken his heart quite like this either. His head fell as an air of defeat settled around him.

“You’re breakin’ my heart, Els,” he whispered to her before taking several steps back from her. 

She sniffled and hastily wiped a stray tear that started to fall down her face. 

“I-I’m protecting mine. No one else is going to,” she whispered back. “Goodbye, M-Michael,” her voice broke ever so slightly as she choked back a sob. She tore herself away from the wall and rushed away from him and a dream she knew could never be a reality. 

Before she knew it, she found herself at her front door. The beautiful bouquet of flowers she found at her doorstep could not even raise her spirits or stop the tears that were starting to fall. She picked them up off the floor and fumbled with her key until she was inside her apartment. 

She leaned against the counter, her hands trembling as she picked up the card nestled between a large bouquet of white roses and white calla lilies, her favorite flower. 

A tear fell as she immediately guessed who they were likely from. 

“Fucking perfect timing,” she muttered as she pulled the card out of its small envelope and read it silently. 

Els, 

Thank you for being my better half for the last three months. Whether it’s loving a flawed boxer or wine and movie nights on the couch - on screen and off, you’re the best partner I could ever have. First movie down… I know there are many more together to go.  

Love,

Bakari

She read it a couple more times, her heart slowly shattering piece by piece as a wave of sobs hit her. She leaned into her counter as she sobbed, her head falling into her hands. 

As she sobbed, she could not help but replay her last conversation and kiss with Michael over and over again. A small voice kept telling her she did the right thing. However, all she felt as she finally drifted off to sleep was regret. 

Cold and lonely regret. 

Part 3

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @lynaye1993

A/N: ummm… don't hate me!! lol

#black writers #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #michael b jordan smut #mbjedit #creed 3 #adonis creed #erik killmonger #black Panther #michael b jordan #Michael b Jordan x oc #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #creed iii

[enigmatist17]

It's the bandage he sees first, the huge bandage that was covering more area than it should have. He doesn't see red, and the tightness in his chest that had sat there when he and Chin got the call from Max that Steve was in his apartment.

He appears to have been stabbed.

That's all that had been rotating in Danny's mind the agonizing drive over, but Steve was standing and surprised to see the two.

"What the hell is the matter with you? What is the matter with you?!"

Steve's shoulders slump at the beginning of his rant, but Danny is not concerned with that.

"Breaking outta jail, taking out a cop?! Have you lost your mind?!"

Danny knows the answer is yes, both for Steve and himself the prick.

"Why you yelling at me?" Danny can't help but internally soften at the adorable questioning face he hadn't seen for far too long, but it'll be a snowy day in Hawaii before he ever admits it.

"I'm not yelling at you!"

"Actually, you were expressing yourself in a very loud manner."

"Hey, zip it Kermit." Max blinks, unaware that one doesn't interject themselves into a Danny Williams bitching session. Well, unless you know how to that is, Kelly finally stepping in to prevent their shouting match from drawing very much unneeded attention. They aren't together for long, the man called Joe that no one trusted giving the least amount of information possible having McGarrett jumping at the bit to go.

Danny despises this, but knows right now is not the time to push too hard, so he follows his fearless leader.

The day feels like its lasted a month by the time McGarrett is proven innocent, Wo Fat is established to have been behind the Governor's murder, and the Five-0 is mostly reinstated. The sun is dipping below the horizon when Danny and Steve pile into his car, the Jersey detective cursing how far forward his seat was as Steve piled into the backseat.

"You better take those boots off, I'm not cleaning the inside of my windows again." He chided, only hearing a faint chuckle from his partner.

"I am too tired to unlace them."

"Then you're cleaning this time."

"Deal."

Seat adjusted and a rolled up sweatshirt tossed in the backseat, Danny begins the drive to his partners house. He can hear Steve pass out before he's out of the parking lot, but rambles on regardless about how life had been during the shit show of the last few weeks.

Steve wakes when he feels the car pull to its final stop, jerking up when the door at his feet opens a moment later.

"Hey, relax Rambo." Danny is positioned away from the car, giving a little wave. "C'mon, I'm not dragging your ass up the stairs and causing any stitches to pop open."

"Stitches can be replaced." Steve shrugged, slowly pulling himself up and out of the car with a grumble. "You don't have to pull a mother hen."

"Me? Mother hen? Shut up." Said stitches ached when he was up on his feet, and for once in his life, Steve doesn't notice Danny move to suddenly be a support. "Get those feet movin', we don't have all night." Steve rolled his eyes, but dutifully follows Danny up and inside his remarkably dust-free place.

"No dust?"

"Figured you have a maid service." Danny shrugs, and points to the bathroom. "Shower, and I'll get you some fresh clothes because you stink right now."

"I promise I have smelled worse." Steve chuckled softly, but is more than happy to take his first non-public shower that didn't require his head on a swivel. Max's stitches were top-notch for something done on the fly, and is amused to find it's most likely going to leave an almost lighting bolt shaped scar.

He doesn't remember much past stepping out of the shower, blinking to find himself now in bed and dressed in his loungewear. The bed is dipping slightly from someone lying next to him, and he doesn't even have to look to know who it is, the familiar scent of cheap coffee, sandalwood and a Jersey local made cologne that Danny always insisted on having shipped. He's watching something on a tablet he'd left during one of his first visits, chuckling to himself, and Steve just idly listens as the pull of sleep slowly pulls him under.

"You better be sleepin'." Danny's voice is as tender as Steve has ever heard, the detective humming as he starts another episode.

"mhm..." It's not his best response, but Danny takes mercy by running a hand through his hair.

"You're gonna need a haircut soon, but one day at a time eh? Now go back to sleep." There's another soft noise before Danny feels Steve go lax once again, the detective keeping the slow rhythm going as the hours tick by. As far as he's concerned, Steve is back where he needs to be, and all is well on this pineapple hellhole of an island.

As close to perfection as it was going to be.

#personal #mcdanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #I am rotating them in my brain like a rotisserie chicken #absolutely feral

[prosperdemeter2]

WIP Wednesday - watermark

When I tell you I had to fight the GODS to get this posted, know that I'm telling you the truth. Accept this... not so kind offering 🩵🩵🩵🩵

He couldn’t stop shaking. 

It wasn’t even cold, but it felt like it. The air conditioning in the house had broken a week ago, and Eddie had dragged his heels all up and down their local Target complaining about the prices of a replacement, and he had only shut up about it when they had ended up at Home Depot and all of the units there were about a hundred dollars more. So it was working, and Buck could feel it settling on his skin like pinpricks of tiny, cold icicles digging into the parts of his body that weren’t covered in clothes. But it was about eight six outside, and the air conditioning needed to be on because, otherwise, Christopher would be complaining about how hot it was and Buck didn’t think he could handle hearing that, thank-you-very-much. Not on top of everything else.

So Buck was shaking, the air conditioning was on, and he had been home for approximately ten minutes and locked in the bathroom for nine of them. 

He didn’t know how he had convinced Athena to go home. He didn’t even know if he had convinced her. But she hadn’t gotten out of Bobby’s car to go after him, and Buck didn’t know if that was better, or worse, than if she had insisted on following him inside. 

Evan couldn’t do this, really. Eddie’s things were everywhere. The sink was his. The house was his. The kid was his. 

Evan was just… he wasn’t even Buck. He was Evan. But Buck was lost somewhere in hospital hallways, or maybe he had never been taken out of the hospital in the first place, or maybe he was still on that street, swimming in Eddie’s blood and -. 

The water was hot on his hands. A juxtaposition to the air conditioning on the back of his neck and goosebumps were instantly rising on the backs of his arms. 

When Evan was eleven, he had turned on the water in the bathroom so hot that the next day he had gone to school with a dozen sensitive red splotches on the backs of his palms. No one had said anything, but why would they when usually showed up to classes with new bruises and scrapes? You hurt yourself when you need to focus. 

Are you hurt? 

He shut off the water with a viscous twist of the knob and gripped the sink instead. 

Pull it together. He told himself and refused to look in the mirror. 

This might be a little big on you, it’s Bobby’s. 

On the back of the sweatshirt was Nash in big, bold, white letters. On the front was 118 at the bottom of the firefighter’s emblem, Captain emblazoned in red at the top. Just like his helmet. Too long at the sleeves, a pinch too big at the shoulders. It didn’t quite fit. It didn’t quite feel right. 

Evan was shocked he could even feel anything at all, anymore. 

He was well aware of delayed pain. It had existed within him long before the explosion that had nearly taken his life. There had been a time where little Evan Buckley hadn’t even known he had a broken rib for two weeks before he had been walking home from school and realized it hurt to breathe. Doctor Ocampo said that probably had something to do with safety. The neuropathways in his brain were all fucked up from the abuse he had suffered as a child that now his brain and his body didn’t know how to properly communicate anymore. He was in his bathroom, it was hours after what was rapidly becoming the worst day of his life, and his wrist was finally starting to pierce, his knee was finally starting to scream, and his neck was starting to pull. The doctor had walked him through his own list of injuries - bruising on the elbow, a shard of glass or ten had ended up all the way up his arm, but the piece that had lodged in his wrist had been the only one that needed stitches. His knee was twisted, the good knee, this time, not the one that tended to trip him up. The muscle in his neck was most likely just strained - a side effect of being tackled, quite literally, into the pavement without a helmet. 

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the closed toilet, one hand on the cold porcelain of the sink as if to brace himself, and his sleeve (Bobby’s sleeve) pushed up, the elastic around the wrist brushing against the white bandage obscuring the stitches. 

The laundry basket, full and stuffed right in the middle of the open closet door, mocked him. 

Eddie had said he was going to do it when he was done with his shift. 

Stupidly, Evan laughed and then slapped a hand over his mouth as if to quiet it and keep it locked inside. But, well… the laundry wasn’t getting done now unless Evan did it, huh? Just like he had said it wouldn’t. 

I’m just going to have to do it anyway. 

No, no, let me do it. 

You always forget. 

Okay, so let me remember. 

Maybe he’d leave it for him. Maybe it would just never get done. Maybe, if he left it where it was, it would… “Fuck.” Evan breathed, dug his bruised elbow into his bad knee and hid his face. It wasn’t wet anymore, no, Athena had taken care of that, and Evan knew he had a habit of making people worried when he didn’t have the correct emotional response to big, life changing events and he, really, probably should have been an emotional mess. 

Shock, Hen would have said and sat with him, her hand rubbing a warm circle in the middle of his spine. You’re just in shock. 

Shock, sure. 

That was… all it was. Shock made sense, medically and emotionally. Who wouldn’t be in shock after….

Prep an OR.

Sir, you have to let go. 

Please. 

“Buck?” Christopher knocked on the bottom of the door loudly with the bottom of his crutch. 

Are you hurt? 

“Is dad working late?” 

Buck stood up, the pain sliding from the front of his mind all the way to the back and cleared his throat. “Give me a second, Chris.” He washed his hands with lukewarm water and knocked the closet door shut on his way out of the bathroom, the laundry disappearing from view as it clicked closed. 

There were more important things. 

#rewrite #buddie #911 fic #watermark #buddie fic #Seventh times the charm???? #may the odds be ever in my favor #IT WORKED

[the-everqueen]

hi!! it’s cold here too. what do you think Lucienne & Rose’s winter wear would look like? 🧣❄️

stay warm! we (the collective city it's just me here) are prepped for potential power outages but i hope you have layers and heating and hot beverages.

this ask is so fucking cute. Lucienne is obviously practical above all else. she's got a thick knit beanie for her head. she's maybe got one of those ear-flap hats if it gets Really Cold. she already dresses in layers in her professional attire, so we know she has a pair of long undies. she CLEARLY owns multiple knit and slouchy cardigans. she's got a long overcoat. she's got one of those head-to-toe puffer jackets. there's a variety of jewel-toned scarves. she sheds layers as necessary and folds them up neatly on her chair or desk. Dream has given her a little magical heater that looks like a pond lily that offers light and keeps her desk inks fluid. (this bitch ain't never switching to digital or even ballpoint pens.) i imagine the Most Daring she gets is a fair isle knit sweater or a beanie with a pouf on top. she's neutrals to monochrome but if she's feeling spicy there's a deep burgundy cape with some gold stitch detailing on the hems.

Rose lived in Brooklyn so realistically she knows what winter looks like. pero also she was presumably a college student so she's got an eclectic thrift wardrobe going on. we know she loves a sweater vest. like Lucienne, she tends to dress in neutrals or deep toned colors, but i bet she found a North Face puffer that's like, lime green at a buffalo exchange for $20 and she snagged that shit. i DO think she'd be into the scrunchy knit leg warmers trend. leggings. midi wool skirt. patterned sweater vest on top of a sweatshirt/pullover. long knit fingerless gloves. any combo of beanies or head scarves to keep her hair from getting snow or sleet in it. none of these things are in colors that "match" but somehow she's making it work.

in the LA guard dog au she has to donate half her winter gear because SoCal just does NOT get that cold. ever. she needs a slicker and some long sleeves and a couple sweaters. probably for the first five years she's one of those transplants who goes out in shorts or t-shirts in January when everyone else is bundled against an imagined ice age.

for some reason i imagine it snows more in the Dreaming when it's Daniel rather than Morpheus. because he's a little cotton candy snowflake man? because children like snow days? because Morpheus walked around tits out for god knows how many millennia and that seems uncomfortable if it's also subzero temps? idk. anyways. imagine Danny and Luce sharing hot cocoa. imagine Morpheus and Calliope making a snowbeast with their kid.

#ask games #ama #likephysics #thank you! this was adorable and made me warm #snow is so much more fun to think about conceptually rather than experience irl #sandman #lucienne #rose walker

[sweet-honey-tears]

Could you do the gift series for Shinso?

Hi! Thank you so much for your request! 🤍 I would love to do this one, he’s actually one of my favorites! 🤭🤍I did take this in a different direction from my past ones. It’s more so a concept then gift but I do like it. Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted tho. OH the reader also their ears pierced - if you don’t just imagine them(the earrings) as being magnet ones! Feel free to leave request!

💝Gifts To and From🐈‍⬛

Hitoshi Shinso x GenderNeutral Reader

Part 4, 3, 2, 1 FLUFFF

I feel like he would buy you mittens. They would be soft, thick, and warm. Like you can tell they’re expensive by just the look of them. They're wool, with soft insides. They’re indigo, that beautiful dark purple-blue with black stitching..

Shinso is an underground hero, he takes night patrols quite often and notices you on those nights. You’ll walk his route, stopping by a certain bus stop to see him. He’s scared you a few times, his capture weapon wrapping around your mid section before you’re enclosed in his arms.

There was one instance he tried to pull the spider man kiss thing- yeah no that didn’t work out well. His scarf, which was wrapped around his leg and arm- unraveled. You heard an ‘oof’ and then saw him on the ground, sitting with his scarf around him.

He realized then, when your icey hands touched his face, that he needed to get youmittens

Shinso also likes to get big- like huge - sweatshirts. It’s an inside joke- one you're still kinda embarrassed at. It was back when you both were still at UA. You hadn’t slept in days and where so dazed that you didn’t notice your boyfriend wasn't under a huge blanket, no- it was an oversized sweatshirt. (The one you order him- in the wrong size) Shinso, to his credit, did put his hands on your shoulder to try and push you off, saying:

“Kitten I don’t think-“

“Herg!” You had protested,m.

You only realize your mistake when you could get your head threw the top of the blanket... but you had been to exhausted to care at that moment. You just collapsed on his toned chest, your cheek pressing into his pec. His hands ran over your back. “Huh, tired kitten? Don’t worry, you can stay there. Actually, it's kind of comfortable.” Your arms wrapped around his toned body as you fell asleep.

Nowadays though, with the size of his body(specifically his chest and arms in this case) it’s frickin HARD to find a sweatshirt that can fit both of you. With either you laying on him or the other way around. So when he does find one, it’s exciting.

You make his heart beat so fast when you lay against him like that.

You’re so close.

You trust him- you talk to him

His Lock Screen, to your horror, is a picture of you inside his hoodie. Your face smushed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you sleep. He took the picture from the top, having to angle his phone in the neck hole to get it. He knows you don’t exactly like it- but you stopped saying anything when he told you why he had it as his Lock Screen.

“I like seeing you every time I check my phone. No matter what message I get, I get to see your pretty face kitten. It makes it better.”

Shinso also has a thing for jewelry. It's a way to express himself more. He hid his style and personality a lot in his early days at UA. A powerful fear and disgust about being called a villain… especially since his style is less then bright and pastel-y he never really learned his likes and dislikes in fashion and self-expression.

It started with rings: you watched him pick them up and try them before leaving the booth that was selling them. You got him those.

He didn’t take them off.

You also got him a shiny obsidian ring as well. The words ‘I Love You’ engraved on it.

You smiled at him, the sweet, bright smile when he bought himself his first set of string bracelet. You grabbed his wrist later on that night when: “They look really nice on you Shin.” You had said, kissing his inner wrist. Yeah, he turned beat red- but damn he felt… confident? Good?

You motivated him- and kinda forced him to go through with it when he told you he wanted to get his ears pierced. He had wavered a bit at the door to the pricing place.

He and you have a matching set of clay cat earrings you got him. They’re orange tabby cats with little googly eyes. Your Home Screen is of you, hanging on his shoulders. Your faces are pushed together so the camera can get your matching earrings.

You asked him a couple of months about what he wanted for his birthday… he told nothing. You got him the best gift- you gave him was your support and love. Without that…. He never would have grown.

#bnha shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x y/n #bnha headcannons #shinso fluff #bnha fluff #bnha fanfiction #💝gifts to and from💝 #💝 #fluff #bnha x reader #bnha requests #request #🪴request/ questions🪴

[whispersinthedawn]

House of Memories

“I wouldn't pick that if I were you,” a beloved voice commented.

Apollo’s heart faltered.

Stopped.

The voice echoed through his brain like a gong clanging right next to his ear.

He couldn’t hear anything but the hoarse tones quavering with apprehension, couldn’t focus on anything but the hint of steel as she bulldozed through all obstacles.

He’d heard this voice laugh, cry, choke, scream, whisper. He’d fallen asleep to this voice and woken up to this voice humming in his ear.

He’d never heard this voice in his life.  

Simultaneously shocked, elated, and horrified, Apollo whirled around.

Discombobulation threatened to overwhelm him.

What should have been a messy braid instead lay neatly pinned in place atop the young woman’s head.

The creases beneath her eyes from squinting at his phone and the laughter lines he’d delighted in etching across her skin had been wiped away by the brush of youth.

Instead of an overlarge sweatshirt (his, his, he’d begun wearing sweatshirts just so he could dress her in them and nothing else) and a pair of jeans faded from multiple washes, she wore a flower-print top expertly hand-stitched to her frame and a pair of cotton trousers so painfully new they still smelt of dye.

Her breasts should have been larger, his mind insisted. Her head should have come up beyond his collarbone, her hips should have been wider, and her body faintly translucent.

His vision flickered.

A stranger stared back at him with vibrant green eyes. “Leukaemia, you know,” she prompted.

With a jerk of his head, Apollo glanced back at the book in his hand. The white flower with its blood-drenched six petals looked back at him from the cover. The words Lost in your memory, emblazoned on the jacket in golden, spidery letter front, seemed to mock him.

“Really?” Apollo asked with a dry throat. “Must be contagious, the way it’s going around.”

“Love Story,” the woman said knowledgeably.

Nausea burbled up in his stomach – like the effervescent froth the one time he’d accidentally swallowed a bath bomb. (There was a reason Apollo entertained nothing but the strictest of hatreds for all soaps with aspirations towards appearing edible.)

“Eric Segal. Love Story,” the woman elaborated at Apollo’s continued silence. “Then there’s A Walk to Remember and the whole Nicholas Sparks epidemic. And suddenly, one of the leads dying after a suitably photogenic event is romantic.”

Death was neither pleasant nor attractive. The lead dying was …

Cracking, splintering, screaming Earth. Waters towering over an island that should never drown.

A determined face smiling at him for the last time before …

A tiny hand on his arm, the voice of knowledge filtering through Apollo’s panic, “If you go there, she'll burn.”

The horrified incomprehension as ichor lit up the body he'd traced with his hands and lips just that morning. The blank refusal to acknowledge the scene before his eyes as his wife glowed and glowed and failed to ascend.

As she flickered, and tottered, and collapsed, and …

Water.

Just … water.

Everywhere.

“That’s horrible,” Apollo muttered, unsure whether he was responding to the woman he’d one day marry and watch die or to the part of himself that sincerely believed he’d already lived through it.

The young woman made a face as she looked at the book in his hand. “I suppose it’s something about catharsis,” she allowed ungraciously. “Reading someone else undergo all the terror and pain of watching a loved one fade away, immersing yourself into the narrative until you’re shedding tears and – then to realise it didn't happen to you after all.”

“A purging of the emotions,” Apollo croaked, even though seeing the future play out as a particularly tragic play had never prepared him for the pain.

Sea green eyes gazed into his, a strange anticipation in them that faded the longer he remained silent.

She turned back to the shelf, a manic sort of energy filling her limbs as she reordered the books according to some criteria known only to herself.

“Of course,” she mocked, “only certain kinds of cancer are romantic. You get testicular cancer, and Disney will crop you off the frame altogether.”

“Princess Diaries?” Apollo guessed, inordinately thrilled to know this fact.

(Inordinately thrilled to focus on something, anything, other the puddle of water he couldn’t protect her from becoming.

He didn’t even know if he wanted to protect her.)

“Wonderful movies, but not the most faithful of renditions, you know?” she confided.

Apollo grinned back conspiratorially, even though he'd never seen any Princess Diaries. It seemed the type of thing one of his children would wax poetic over until he gave in and watched it just to know what all the fuss was about, but he'd yet to undergo that fate.

‘Anne Hathaway looked pretty. And the chemistry with Chris Pine,' Apollo’s foresight addled manifestation reminisced nostalgically.

“So, what would you recommend if not the book being launched today?” Apollo teased.

(The book launch she’d come to attend, for a book whose ending she already knew, while knowing exactly where Apollo stood like she’d put bugs on his clothes.)

She rocked on her heels while perusing the shelves. She raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, only to lower it in embarrassment as her fingers brushed against a hairpin.

“Well, not that one – it’s just too much confusing prose that glorifies stalking your person of interest,” she murmured while pointing at a book with a maroon cover.

Apollo chuckled.

She glanced at him shyly before turning back to a book with the word “Midnight” in its name and purple highlights against the cityscape forming the front cover.

“That one is supernatural too, but the main lead is just too … broody. And stuck in his neuroses. And also – it’s not her responsibility to be some breath of fresh air fixing up his life. Like, all he needed was love and hers was just pure enough while everyone else was just a one-night stand.”

By the end, her voice had risen in agitation.

“You don’t like love fixing people or broody leads?” Apollo inquired, uncertain why precisely her opinions on romance novels was important to him, but sure that it was.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not … love can help,” she tried to explain. “But it’s not enough. Knowing someone loves you is good – but it can’t be everything.”

“It can be the foundation you build your life on,” Apollo pointed out.

“It shouldn’t be everything,” she insisted. “Because that just reduces you to a caricature of a person who only exists as long as someone loves you. You can’t define yourself by the person you’re in love with, because one day they’re going to be gone and you’re going to be left alone, and that day …” she choked off.   

“That day,” Apollo told her softly, “the memory of the love would still remain. And it would still be the foundation, still be a bracing strut, still be the frame you build your life around. And one day, you’ll find a new post to twine around, and that would still be okay.”

She stared at him, eyes wide with a confused hurt.

Apollo turned back to the shelf, trying to resist the shame curling around his gut. He’d reassured her – that she’d taken it as assurance that she was so insignificant that even the pain of parting wouldn’t be enough to stop him from enjoying the present was … not his problem.

‘Don’t,’ Other Apollo warned in a strained voice.

‘Don’t what?’ Apollo mocked, the despair growing ever stronger at this proof of his misstep.

But the woman he’d one day like enough to sign a few useless papers, that would hopefully not gain Hera’s attention, with was stronger. She rallied, even if the bright smile on her face seemed all too fragile to Apollo.

“You’ll like the next one then. It’s got immortal mummies in it,” she told him.

Apollo looked at the name of the author and experienced nothing but awkward incredulity. “Bram Stoker?”

“There’s a curse too,” she pointed out gleefully.

Was this a hint at his own tendency to curse people? Because she should really resist being quite this ecstatic while pointing out his flaws. What if he took it badly?

“It doesn’t seem like a romance,” he intoned dryly.

The woman stuck out her lower lip in a pout that sent a frisson of heat down Apollo’s abdomen. “Romance is just another word for fantasies dreamt by someone who’s never actually experienced love,” she told him. “If it were real, there would be a lot more blood, emotional gore, indifference, missed opportunities, and in case we forget – boredom.”

“The tragedy of happily ever-after,” Apollo concurred, “every day is the same. No highs and no lows with any stakes worth risking everything for.”

The woman blinked owlishly at him before breathing out in the tones of one arriving at a surprising realisation, “Honestly? That sounds really nice. I’d love to lead a perfectly banal life with zero danger, where every day is just … a house with a family that won’t ever leave.”

I can’t give you that.

He didn’t say it. He’d do his best to pretend, wouldn’t he? He’d create a mould of what she wanted and pour himself into it. He’d cut off the pieces that failed to fit, all in a bid to make her happy.

Because he’d fall so desperately for her, for the him she made him want to be, that he’d kill himself for her.

***

Read on AO3

#perpollo #pjo #fanfiction #percy x apollo #fem percy #percy jackson #apollo #apollo x percy #books #time travel #Eric Segal's love story #walk to remember #princess diaries #Apollo's manifestation has travelled back in time but he doesn't know it #Comedy of misunderstandings

[sheliesshattered]

I ended up spending most of yesterday fixing some fit issues with the scrappy sweatshirt -- which has somehow morphed into the Jyn Erso Sweatshirt in my mind, between the color and the sleeve details and the Star Wars-iness of it all.

I was hoping to finish it yesterday, but the fit issues were worth spending the time on, I think. Sewing on one of the sleeves revealed a large, weird bubble at the back of the armscye, and in dealing with that I ended up taking a chunk out of the tops of both the side back and side front panels where they connect with center back and center front, which fixed most of the issue I was seeing with the excess fabric problem.

But at that point the shirt was a weird in-between of not quite fitted enough, so I mentioned to Jack that I was thinking about taking out the two rectangular side panels that together were adding about 5" of width to the shirt. He suggested I just use a plain seam to take it in, instead of picking out all the stitching. That took out about 4" of that 5" width and resulted in a shirt that's significantly more fitted while still loose enough to pull on over my head. It also turned into this really cool seam detail at the side seam:

Of course, that'll be completely covered by the fitted vest I'll be wearing over top for our Batuu outing, but I like the way this sweatshirt turned out so I'll probably end up just wearing it on its own with jeans or whatever, too.

Once I had the body fitting the way I wanted it to, I fitted the sleeve into the armscye more or less by pinning it in place while wearing it. I was extra careful to match the inset panel on the sleeve with the inset panel on the shoulder, and I ended up having more fabric at the back of the shoulder than I needed (the other thing that was causing that weird bubble, as it turns out) but with the lapped seam and fitting it while wearing it, that was easy to shift that out and then trim it down later. I also ended up taking in the long seam of the sleeves themselves, so that the width matched up with the smaller armscye. The sleeves are completely fitted now, but there's enough stretch in this fabric that it's still comfortable and I have full range of motion.

With the sleeves attached, I was able to try the whole thing on and mark a couple of changes I wanted to make to the neckline and to level out the lower hem. I trimmed those to shape, then added the same sort of hem finish that I used for the sleeves: a narrow panel cut parallel to the knitted grain of the fabric, and thus unlikely to either roll or fray too badly. And with that, I could call the scrappy Jyn Erso Sweatshirt finished!

At some point in the next two and a half weeks, I want to gently hand-wash it to get all the chalk markings off, and then probably let it air dry. In the future I plan to throw this shirt in the wash with everything else, but for right now I don't want to risk something unraveling and needing fixed before I wear it to Batuu.

The other thing I may want to fiddle with later is the collar trim. When I wear it under the vest, it lays flat and sticks out exactly as much as I was hoping it would, for just a little bit of contrast color right at the neckline. But when it's worn on its own the neckline doesn't feel quite right. It probably just needs a couple of little darts at the shoulders to help it lay flatter against my neck -- or I might chop it down to a narrower width and let that be the solution. But either way, it's not something I'm going to mess with this month.

So with the shirt officially done and wearable, I can get back to fitting the vest. I left some pins in it from the last set of alterations I was thinking about, right before I decided to pause that project and make the sweatshirt to wear under it. But as soon as I put it on with the sweatshirt, I could see that my alterations were in the wrong place -- largely because I'd just done something similar with the sweatshirt.

During my last try-on a week or so ago, I had thought I needed to pinch in the top of the armscye to keep it from gaping over the cap of my shoulder, but that was making the bust fit weird, so I had started pinning that to take it in, before deciding that I really needed to be able to fit it over the shirt I'd be wearing it with.

With the complete flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants nature of the sweatshirt project, I had come to realize that my pattern for both the sweatshirt and the vest (and probably a bunch of other things, come to think of it) are way too small through the shoulder, especially on the center front panel. The center back seems to be fine, weirdly.

So instead of pinching out a triangle from the armscye to the neckline, I seam ripped the shoulder seam and sewed an extra rectangle of fabric onto the shoulder of the front panels, being careful to match the grain lines. I've pinned a new shoulder seam in place -- the same shape as the alteration I had previously pinned, but now with two or three extra inches of height between the shoulder and the bust.

It's gotten too dark to try to fit this very dark blue fabric in the mirror so I've set it aside to finalize tomorrow, but I could already tell that the bust is fitting much better, now that it's sitting where it should be instead of trying to float two or three inches too high. I may not even have to make any adjustments to the bust itself, but I'll wait until tomorrow to decide, after I can see the vest in bright daylight.

Besides that, there are a couple of other tiny changes I want to make -- lowering the curve of the part of the neckline that folds over, bringing in the flare over the hips at the side seam just slightly, and trimming off the extra length especially in the back panels. Those are all very simple changes, so I'm hoping to get through them all tomorrow while the light is good.

Then I'll be able to transfer all those changes to the paper pattern and cut out the exterior fabric from this same blue linen. The lining will have a seam where I added to the front shoulder, but unless it shows through really obviously, I'm not planning to re-cut the lining. I'm hoping to put some pockets in that'll live between the exterior and the lining anyhow, so I'm not too worried about that one extra seam showing through. And worst case I'll just re-cut that piece of the lining, since I should have enough linen left over after the exterior is cut.

Once I've got the exterior cut out and assembled, it'll be down to attaching the exterior to the lining and finishing all the edges, then adding the zipper and any other closures, and adding pockets if I have time. There are a few other detail things I'd like to do for my outfit if I have time (covering up laces and buckles, mostly), but all of that will only happen after both the vest and Jack's jacket are finished.

Still lots to do, but I'm feeling really good about my progress, and how cool everything looks. The sweatshirt isn't something I could have imagined and sketched out in its final form, but I am thrilled with the ways that necessity led to such interesting design details. I wanted something long-sleeve in that blue-gray color, and I ended up with something so much better than that, something I just love.

I tried on all the pieces of my outfit together, and I'm really happy with the look overall, and particularly the way the sleeves of the sweatshirt work with the vest and the hooded wrap and my little fingerless leather gloves. I can't wait to get the vest done and really see the final effect of all these pieces I've made. Less than three weeks to go now, but it's easy to stay focused and motivated when everything just looks so wonderful.

More pictures and updates to come as I continue to check things off of my list!

#my sewing #scrappy sweatshirt project #Jyn Erso sweatshirt #Batuu vest #Batuu Bounding #2024 mood #I have been making slow progress on handsewing the pleated panel to Jack's jacket too #it's at the annoying phase where I have to stick my entire arm into the sleeve to pull the needle through #but it looks so COOL that it's keeping me motivated #and since I can't really work on the vest much after dark hopefully I'll start making more progress on the jacket in the evenings now #and sewing all of this and writing up these posts has kept me focused on and excited about this birthday trip #while also keeping me from vibrating in my seat from excitement lol

[msnogood]

Cozy Clown Sweater!

Materials you need: 1 secondhand fleece sweatshirt. Some colorful fleece. 1″ round shank button (contrasting color from the fleece, doesn’t have to be the same as mine). Thread and sewing needle. Scissors. Soap and water.

1) Cut 2 diamond shapes from felt that’s just big enough to cover the buttons.

2) Hand wash the diamond felt in hot soapy water (pre-shrinking).

3) Cut a small vertical slit on the diamond felt that’s slightly smaller than the button thread knob. Push the thread knob through the slit to combine the button and felt.

4) Sew the button eyes on the sweatshirt.

5) Sew a couple loose stitches on the diamond felt behind the button face to secure it and prevent it from turning.

6) For the clown nose. Pull apart some felt scrap into fluff. Much more than below. You may now question your method of craft.

7) After gathering enough fluff to a good size ball. Roll it with hot soapy water until it agitates itself into a felted ball.

8) Sew felt nose onto sweatshirt.

9) Cut a kidney bean shape from felt. Sew a curved stem stitch in the middle to separate the lips and secure the lips.

10) You have a good enough clown top to wear to work.

#crafts #crafting #handsewn #hand sewing #fiber art #arts and crafts #upcycle #upcycled clothing #upcycled #refashion #rework #reworked clothing #thrift flip #clown #clowncore #kidcore #kawaii #cute art #cute crafts #kawaii art #textile art

[menshort]

Unveiling Your Personal Style: A Guided Tour Through Iconic India's Premium Brands

Unveiling Your Personal Style: A Guided Tour Through Iconic India's Premium Brands

Iconic India, a haven for fashion enthusiasts, serves as a portal to crafting a wardrobe that speaks volumes about your individuality. Imagine stepping into a space where coveted international labels mingle seamlessly with the finest Indian design. This is the essence of Iconic India, where you embark on a sartorial adventure to discover pieces that resonate with your personal style. Today, we embark on a curated journey through some of Iconic India's premium brands, highlighting statement pieces that will elevate your look and transform your wardrobe.

Gant: Timeless Staples with a Playful Twist

Gant, synonymous with classic American style, offers a foundation of wardrobe essentials that transcend fleeting trends. Their impeccable tailoring and focus on quality ensure that each piece becomes a cherished companion for years to come. While Gant is known for its preppy staples like oxfords and chinos, they also cater to those who love a pop of color. Look no further than the MEN YELLOW PRINTED HOODED SWEATSHIRT available at Iconic India. This sweatshirt injects a dose of vibrancy into your casual repertoire, perfect for weekend outings or layering on cooler days. Pair it with dark wash jeans and sneakers for a laid-back look, or throw it over a crisp white tee and chinos for a touch of preppy charm.

True Religion: Redefining Denim and Beyond

True Religion carved its niche in the fashion world with its signature horseshoe stitching and flattering denim cuts. Their jeans continue to be a top choice for those seeking a balance between edgy and sophisticated. However, True Religion's offerings extend far beyond denim. Elevate your everyday tee collection with their WINE FASHION REGULAR FIT T-SHIRT available at Iconic India. This versatile piece boasts a rich wine color that adds depth to any outfit. Dress it down with jeans for a relaxed vibe or pair it with tailored trousers and loafers for a more put-together look. The possibilities are endless!

Iconic (India): Where Heritage Meets Modernity   

For the fashion-forward Indian consumer, Iconic (India) offers a treasure trove of in-house designed pieces that celebrate the rich tapestry of Indian design with a modern twist. The WOMEN BLUE SOLID SPREAD COLLAR 3/4TH SLEEVES SHIRT exemplifies this fusion of tradition and contemporary style. This sophisticated shirt features a flattering spread collar and three-quarter length sleeves, making it ideal for the warmer months. Crafted from breathable fabric, it offers both comfort and style, perfect for transitioning effortlessly from the office to an evening out with friends.

Just Cavalli: Unleash Your Inner Rock Star    

Just Cavalli, the brainchild of the legendary Roberto Cavalli, injects a dose of youthful rebellion into the fashion landscape. Expect vibrant prints, bold embellishments, and a distinct rock-and-roll vibe. Make a statement with a WOMEN RED SOLID CROSSBODY BAG from Iconic India. This fiery red bag is more than just an accessory; it's a conversation starter. The compact size makes it perfect for carrying your essentials, while the bold color ensures you'll turn heads wherever you go. Pair it with a simple black dress for a touch of edge, or add a pop of color to a denim-on-denim look.

DKNY: Urban Chic for the Busy Woman 

DKNY embodies the energy and spirit of New York City. Their collections are designed for the modern woman who navigates the urban jungle with effortless style. A well-tailored DKNY pantsuit is a power dressing essential, but for a more casual look, consider their PURPLE FASHION REGULAR FIT T-Shirt available at Iconic India. This timeless piece in a rich purple hue adds a touch of personality to your everyday wardrobe. Layer it under a blazer for a work-appropriate outfit, or wear it on its own with a pair of boyfriend jeans for a relaxed weekend vibe. The versatility of this tee makes it a valuable addition to any capsule collection.

Lindbergh: Sustainable Style with Scandinavian Flair

Lindbergh injects a dose of Scandinavian minimalism into menswear. Their clean lines, focus on quality materials, and relaxed silhouettes create a sophisticated yet effortless look The MEN GREEN PRINTED ROUND NECK SHORT SLEEVES T-SHIRT at Iconic India exemplifies this approach. This eco-conscious choice is crafted from organic cotton, making it a sustainable option for the environmentally conscious gentleman. The green print adds a touch of personality without being overwhelming, making it perfect for pairing with chinos or dark wash jeans.

Beyond the Surface: Cultivating Your Signature Style

This curated selection from Iconic India's premium brands is just a glimpse into the vast array of possibilities that await you. As you navigate the world of fashion, remember that investing in quality pieces that flatter your body type and reflect your personal style is key.

#iconic india #premium clothing gant fashion brands #iconic india online #luxury clothes #Gant #true religion

[reviewspecialist]

Distinctive Styles: Men's & Women's Fashion by Top Brands

Gant:

Men: Gant specializes in classic American sportswear with a European touch for men. Their collections feature clean lines, quality materials, and attention to detail, offering versatile options suitable for various occasions. From crisp button-down shirts to tailored blazers and casual yet refined sweaters, Gant's menswear exudes sophistication and timeless elegance.

Women: Gant offers a similar aesthetic for women, blending classic elegance with contemporary style. Their womenswear collections feature feminine silhouettes, luxurious fabrics, and refined detailing. Whether it's a tailored blazer for the office, a cozy sweater for weekends, or a chic dress for special events, Gant's womenswear embodies sophistication and understated luxury.

True Religion:

Men: True Religion is renowned for its premium denim craftsmanship, offering high-quality jeans with innovative designs and impeccable fit for men. Their denim collections often feature unique washes, intricate stitching, and edgy embellishments, catering to individuals who appreciate distinctive style. True Religion also offers a range of casual apparel, including graphic tees, hoodies, and outerwear, all reflecting the brand's signature urban aesthetic.

Women: True Religion's womenswear extends beyond denim to encompass a diverse array of contemporary fashion. From denim skirts and jackets to trendy tops and dresses, True Religion's women's collection embraces casual luxury with a distinct edge. The brand's commitment to quality materials and attention to detail ensures that every piece exudes confidence and style for the modern woman.

Iconic:

Men: Iconic specializes in streetwear-inspired apparel for men, reflecting the latest trends in urban fashion. Their collections often feature bold graphics, vibrant colors, and relaxed silhouettes, perfect for the modern urbanite. From statement-making hoodies and joggers to stylish sneakers and accessories, Iconic offers a diverse range of options for men looking to make a fashion statement.

Women: Iconic's women's collection mirrors the brand's urban aesthetic with a feminine twist. From trendy crop tops and bodycon dresses to oversized hoodies and athleisure-inspired sets, Iconic's women's line combines comfort with style. The brand's emphasis on versatility and individuality ensures that every piece allows women to express their unique sense of fashion confidently.

Just Cavalli:

Men: Just Cavalli offers contemporary fashion with a rock 'n' roll edge for men. Their collections feature vibrant prints, daring patterns, and unconventional cuts, catering to individuals who aren't afraid to stand out. From statement-making shirts and jackets to eye-catching accessories, Just Cavalli's menswear exudes confidence and attitude for the modern man.

Women: Just Cavalli's women's collection is equally bold and glamorous, embodying femininity with a rebellious spirit. From figure-flattering dresses and statement tops to luxurious outerwear and accessories, Just Cavalli's women's line embraces drama and confidence. The brand's signature animal prints, metallic accents, and intricate detailing add a touch of glamour to every piece, perfect for women seeking to make a statement.

DKNY:

Men: DKNY specializes in contemporary essentials for men, blending style and functionality seamlessly. Their collections feature clean lines, minimalist silhouettes, and understated details, perfect for the urban professional. From tailored suits and dress shirts to casual basics and outerwear, DKNY offers a comprehensive range of options for every aspect of a man's wardrobe.

Women: DKNY's women's collection exudes sophistication and effortless chic. From timeless dresses and tailored separates to casual loungewear and activewear, DKNY's women's line caters to the modern woman on the go. The brand's emphasis on versatility and comfort ensures that every piece can easily transition from day to night, allowing women to look and feel their best no matter the occasion.

Lindbergh:

Men: Lindbergh specializes in modern essentials with a minimalist twist for men. Their collections feature clean lines, neutral colors, and understated details, reflecting the brand's Nordic heritage. From tailored blazers and chinos to casual knitwear and outerwear, Lindbergh offers a curated selection of wardrobe staples for the modern man.

Women: Lindbergh's women's collection embodies effortless elegance and sophistication with a feminine touch. From chic blouses and tailored trousers to cozy knitwear and outerwear, Lindbergh's women's line exudes timeless style. The brand's focus on quality materials and impeccable craftsmanship ensures that every piece is both stylish and versatile, perfect for the modern woman's wardrobe.

#iconic india #gant #true religion #lindbergh #just cavalli

[thenerdysewist]

Making The Bat Hoodie

I made this project back in October because I wanted something that I could wear for Spooky Season. I was also inspired by Rachel Maksy's Victorian Bat Costume Recreation which you can find here.

The concept was simple, make a hoodie with bat wings, so when I opened my arms I looked like a giant spooky bat.

Materials:

I bought two and a half yards of black flannel because flannel is super easy to work with, and nice and cozy. (Plus using stretchy sweatshirt material would have been a pain for many reasons. Not the least of which is that I don't own a serger/overlock machine. That shit is expensive.)

I also used a free hoodie pattern that I downloaded off the Mood Fabrics blog, and drew the wing pattern on a page of a newspaper we had lying around.

Process:

The first step was taping together all the pages of the free pattern, and then cutting out the individual pattern pieces. There were five pieces in total; hoodie front (cut on the fold), hoodie back (cut on the fold), sleeve and hood.

Once that was done, I disassembled the skirt portion of the mock up for my Morgana cosplay (click here to read about that), and used that fabric to make a mock up of the hoodie to see how it fit. I liked the fit, so didn't make any adjustments, but did use it to practice inserting the wing pieces.

I also needed to draft a pattern for a bat wing. To do that, I measured the length of the sleeve and the length of the torso from under the arm, to the bottom edge of the hoodie. That formed two legs of a triangle, and I was able to draw the hypotenuse.

From there, I used a soup bowl, a plastic cup, and two sizes of jar rings to get the curve of the bat wings right.

Originally I had planned to make bat ears to go on the hood, and I used the plush bat above as a reference for the shape of the ear pattern. I used my hand as a reference for the size of the ears.

When I cut out the wing pattern and ear pattern, they looked like this.

I tried inserting the wing pieces two different ways. The first way I tried was by inserting the wing into the seam allowance after the hoodie was already assembled. The plan was to use a french seam to enclose the raw edges, but I quickly realized it wasn't going to work. The other way I tried was ripping open the sleeve seam and the side seam under the arm, inserting the wing, and top stitching everything in place. That worked better.

Then it was time to cut into the flannel. I pinned down all my pieces and cut out the two hood pieces, two sleeves, and the hoodie front and hoodie back. I cut four wing pieces.

I assembled the hoodie without the hood. Then I stitched two wing pieces together and turned them inside out so all the raw edges were inside. I repeated that process for the second wing. Then I inserted those wings into the sleeves and side the same way I did the mock up. Then I stitched and hemmed the hood, and stitched it into the neck-hole. I hemmed the sleeves and bottom edge, and the hoodie was complete!

Reveal:

Bonus Reveal:

I realized that having a hoodie that turned me into a bat meant for Halloween I could do a casual Dimitri Dimension 20 Cosplay. I didn't end up attaching the ears to the hood because I couldn't think of a good way to do it and was worried about messing up the hood, but I found another way to repurpose them. Dimitri wears a hat.

So I ordered a sailor hat off amazon and safety-pinned the ears I made to the hat. When I added a white collared shirt under the hoodie, I had an excellent Dimitri cosplay.

I also had to do Dimitri's pose, I was only missing the coffee cup.

Also when I posted this to my Instagram on Halloween, I tagged Jasmine Bhullar (the woman portraying Dimitri in the above screen cap of Coffin Run) on the off chance she would see it, and she did! She even liked my post and commented on it, and shared it to her story!

Ricky Perry (the set designer for Dimension 20) also saw my post and liked it. So Halloween was extremely cool for me this year.

Final Thoughts:

This project was surprisingly easy. I was able to assemble it all in one day, and even though it was simple, it might be one of my favorite things I've made. The urge to go "bleh!" at people and spread my arms was overwhelming. It was silly, and fun, and brought me so much serotonin. I probably should have found a better way to insert the wings, but I just couldn't wrap my brain around doing it another way and it worked fine.

If I could figure out a better way to insert wings, I would 100% make something like this again.

#dimension 20 #coffin run #d20 coffin run #dimension 20 coffin run #cosplay #sewing #d20 cosplay #cosplayer

[circle--of--confusion]

I made this!! It's a sweatshirt made from a raglan shirt pattern. It turned out so well and the top stitching makes it look so much neater and professional I think

#personal #sewing