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#i am almost done with the sleeve on the sweater i have been working on for months ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
foxcassius · 9 months
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also lucky for me the cheapest shipping option was also the shipping option that will have the yarn at my house by saturday LOL
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lovelytsunoda · 1 year
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the day you kissed a writer in the dark // han lue (tokyo drift)
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summary: she's stood by his side for years. his loyal mechanic, the brains behind his brawn. but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't hurt to watch him flirt with those other women in his club, when he came home to her every night in secret.
bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark, now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart. i am my mother's child, i'll love you 'till my breathing stops.
pairing: han lue x mechanic! reader
warnings: smut, inappropriate use of a drifting car, insecurity and self-doubt, secret relationships, unplanned pregnancy.
author's note: here's something a little different today, lovelies! it's a departure from the usual realm of f1 content i usually bless you all with, but i felt like i needed to do something different to avoid burning myself out, and rewatching tokyo drift gave me the inspiration that i needed :)
she hated the club.
in the back end of her mind, she always resented the mere existence of that secret room leading to han's garage. the fact that he chose to surround himself with women in tight dresses with long legs and perky boobs like he was some kind of yakuza punk.
well, this wasn't crows fucking zero. this was real life.
she couldn't help but draw comparisons between these beautiful girls and herself. as she curled in on herself to duck through the crowd, she frowned at her reflection in the window: her torn up jeans, the grease stain on the cuff of her army-green sweater, the zip barely done up enough to cover up her double-d's, a small nut from her very first car hanging limply from a chain around her neck.
some days, she wondered why han had chosen her of all people.
"sean?" she asked quietly, poking the young american boy in the arm, practically shouting to be heard. "have you seen han?"
sean shook his head. "no, sorry. have you checked the garage?"
"i'm heading back there now. thanks, sean." she sighed, backing out the way that she came, trying not to think about all of the places that her boyfriend could be right now.
the anxiety ate away at her. was he with one of the other girls? one of the prettier, taller, thinner ones? was that why he wanted to keep the relationship under wraps?
was han ashamed of her?
she hurried down the rickety metal staircase, dropping her purse on the workbench as she went, subconsciously placing a hand over her stomach as she thought about the white plastic stick inside the fake leather bag.
they'd been sneaking around for a year, but they'd known each other far longer. she had come to tokyo when she was twenty-one, with a pocketful of cash and a monkey wrench. she had a high school diploma, but that didn't mean much to the rally teams she had applied to work on the pit crews for.
and that's when han swooped her up. when she became the bonnie to his clyde, the mechanic for his little street racing gambit.
that was three years ago. now she was almost twenty-five, he was twenty-seven, and he was in far too deep for them to keep going like this.
she knew why he had to keep it a secret. telling the world that she was his lover would put a target on her back. because that's what happens when you get in deep with someone like dk.
she pulled her hair back with the green rubber band on her wrist, pushing up her sleeves as she reached for a ratchet and approached han's car, the hood already open and ready for her.
working on the cars had always been her safe haven. her distraction from the outside world. fixing something that was broken gave her a satisfaction like no other.
"babe?" han's voice echoed through the garage, and she hated herself for the way that she froze up, fingers tightening around the ratchet. "sean said you were asking around for me? is everything okay?"
she withdrew from the car, slamming the hood down. "you're pushing the car too far. the engine is wearing down, you have to get something stronger. the serpentine belt is at it's brink."
"and that's why you're the brains of this operation and i'm just the pretty boy who drifts." han said playfully, wrapping his arms around her midsection as resting his chin on her shoulder.
"be more careful out there, seoul-oh." she said softly, placing a cold hand on top of his warm one before turning her head and kissing him softly. "i don't know what i'd do if anything ever happened to you."
han spun her body around gently, his hands on her waist as she jumped to perch her body on the edge of the hood, her fingers tangling in his dark, silky hair.
"you don't need to worry about me, sweetheart. i'm going to be okay."
she sighed, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. "where were you, han? wandering around your club with a girl on each arm? a girl that's three times prettier than i am, maybe one who's clothes are a little more revealing-"
"y/n, stop." han said firmly. "baby, you're the only one. my only one." he kissed her on the forehead softly. "i love you. i love you so much that it hurts. i wish i could shout it from the rooftops, but i can't put you in danger like that. i don't want dk to know, because that's a target on your back that i don't want there."
he pulled her as close as he could, arms wrapped securely around her as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "i couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to you."
the sincerity in the older man's voice was reassuring. but some days, it wasn't enough. she loved him more than words could say, but she was getting tired of being his little secret.
but at the end of the day, it was her bed that he always came home to. his arms she woke up in. his terrible singing in the kitchen while he made coffee with breakfast.
han lue was hers.
she kissed him again, still sitting on the edge of the toyota's hood. this kiss was stronger, harder. with more feeling as she bunched han's sweater up in her fingers, trying to wrestle it off his broad shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs tight enough to make her moan against his lips.
"seoul-oh." she mumbled as han broke away from her, pulling his sweater off the rest of the way before tugging his everlast t-shirt over his head.
they fit together like well-worn puzzle pieces, his lips finding that place on her neck that made her crumble, turned her legs to jelly as he slipped a hand up the front of her sweater, thumb tracing comforting shapes against her stomach as he nipped at her neck, biting down gently. there would be a hickey there in a mere matter of hours.
trailing kisses back up her neck, he gently bit her earlobe before placing one hand on the side of her face to guide her lips back to his, the other hand braced against the hood of the car to hold himself up. she bit down on his bottom lip, wrenching a growl from the back of han's throat.
he pulled away, dropping to his knees in front of the car as his large hands dipped under the waistband of her jeans. after reaching down to untie and kick off her beat up vans, she reached above her to grab the exposed beam in the garage ceiling, pulling her body up and allowing han to pull her jeans and panties down her legs in one fell swoop.
"oh, not on the car, baby. you'll stain the bodywork."
"don't care." han hummed, kissing the soft skin of her thigh. "i can't think of anything prettier than you. on the hood of my car, legs spread wide for me." he mumbled in between kisses, inching ever closer to where y/n needed him most, her arousal dripping onto the cool metal hood of the drift car.
and when his lips touched her throbbing clit, she could have sworn she turned electric, using one hand to brace herself against the car and burying the other in han's hair as she threw her head back in a throaty moan.
"han." she panted, grinding against his face as his tongue licked and sucked at her core. "oh, baby, yes."
han smiled to himself, kissing her clit gently as he held her thighs open with his hands. "still think that i don't find you attractive any more?"
"shut up, please. i need you so bad." she'd barely finished speaking when another low, seductive moan left her mouth. the arm that was holding her body up threatened to buckle underneath her as she tugged on han's hair, urging him to keep going.
han chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body as her arm buckled, and she found herself lying against the hood, her head on the windscreen as she bucked her hips, searching for more as her lover tongue-fucked her, her legs thrown over his shoulders with reckless abandon.
"seoul-oh." she whined, clenching her thighs around han's head
"i know, baby." he mumbled softly, kissing her thigh. "you're doing so well darling. come for me."
and that's exactly what she did. with a moan so loud that she was shocked that the patrons of the club couldn't hear it echoing through the garage, she let go, her juices coating the lower half of han's face as he licked her clean before wiping off the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand.
"fuck." he mumbled, standing between her legs and leaning over the car to kiss her. "i can't get enough of you, baby. i think i'm gonna need more."
"oh yeah?" she smiled sitting up slightly, resting her weight on her elbows and raising an eyebrow when she saw the obvious hard-on struggling to break free from the confines of han lue's jeans. "and what do you think we should do about it?"
"back. room. now." he said, softly but firmly, kissing her in between each word as she wrapped her bare legs around his body, allowing han to pick her up and carry her over to the back room, where a double bed was piled high with blankets for the nights where they worked late, or drift races lasted until the mere hours of the morning.
or, nights where neither of them wanted to go home. han was sure that they had fucked on almost every available surface of the garage.
she undid her sweater slowly, revealing the lacy white bra underneath, the makeshift pendant on her necklace hanging delicately just above the hollow of her breasts as she cast the fabric aside, reaching up to snap the elastic band in her hair, letting it cascade in waves down her shoulders.
"you're beautiful, you know that?" he said softly, kneeling on the mattress as he rested one hand gently against her cheek.
she leaned into his touch, reaching up to wrap her slender fingers around his wrist, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of his hand.
she knew she should tell him. han needed to know.
but now was definitely not the time.
not that she could find the words while he kissed her neck, her chest, her stomach, his fingers dancing across her back as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra, erection straining against his jeans.
"han, babe." she mumbled, reaching behind her. "it's been a year now, you should know how to undo a bra, mr. womanizer." she joked, pushing his hands away as she pulled the bra off by herself.
"why would i need to know how to do it when you just take it off by yourself most of the time?" he grinned, standing up to unbuckle his belt.
he started to undo his jeans, pausing halfway as if he had forgotten something before he darted over to the rolling toolbox in the back of the room, pulling a small foil packet out of the top drawer.
fat lot of good a condom would do them now.
not when she was already carrying his baby inside of her.
her body trembled with anticipation as she watched han rid himself of his jeans, the echo of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoing around the room before he rolled the latex sheath onto his thick, hard cock.
god, she was a fool in love. han seoul-oh made her feel every range of emotions all at once.
"seoul-oh." she mumbled, lips against his as he clambered onto the bed, covering her body with his broad one.
"hm?" han mumbled, pressing kisses all over her face.
"i love you, han lue." she said firmly, gently pushing his face away so she could look him in the eyes. "i mean it, babe. you've ruined me for anybody else. you're it for me."
"good, because i don't think i could love anybody else if i tried." han breathed out, kissing her again, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance.
she squirmed under him, a small gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on her bottom lip.
she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg. that wasn't what tonight was for.
han knew this as well, gently pushing himself inside her. tonight was about more than just chasing a high. for both of them. it was about love, and reassurance, and intimacy.
she threaded her fingers through his hair, whining as han moved ever so slightly, the sensations they both felt sending shockwaves through their bodies.
"seoul-oh." she moaned softly. "please. god, you feel incredible."
"yeah?" han crooned, thrusting softly and barely holding back a moan of his own. "you look so pretty with my cock inside you, my sweet sweet girl."
"just like that." she whined as he thrusted again, bucking her hips into him, trying to take his length deeper. "keep doing that, fuck."
when han's nimble fingers came up grip and massage her right breast, she knew she was a goner, arching her back to drive her body into him with a moan as he kissed her chest.
"you like that, baby? yeah, you love having my hands all over you. and i love touching your beautiful body." han murmured, sucking a hickey onto her collarbone. he could feel himself unravelling, knew that the end was nigh as he moaned against her skin, blindly reaching for her hand.
there were no more slow thrusts as the driver began to pick up the pace, his lover's legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned his name.
"oh god, han, baby. fuck, keep going." she panted, one hand trailing down her body to play with her clit. anything to get her closer to that release she craved as she whined and squirmed under han's touch.
she'd seen this film before, and she already knew the ending. and the start if the sequel.
"come for me, baby. i know you can take it, just give me one more, okay?"
"han, han, holy shit." she moaned, feeling the coil in her stomach finally snap, her high crashing over her like a wave.
her lover groaned above her, a guttural sound ripped straight from his throat before han gently pulled out of her sensitive body, the evidence of his own peak contained within the clear latex that he slid off his member, tying the condom off in a knot before punting it into the trash can next to his desk.
she pulled the blankets up as han settled in the bed next to her, his warm fingers dancing in gentle circles against her sweaty skin as they laid together in the afterglow, a content look on his face as he kissed her on the forehead.
"seoul-oh." she said quietly, twirling his long, dark locks of hair around her fingertip. "i have to tell you something."
"what's on your mind, pretty girl?" worry creased han seoul-oh's face, a pit forming in his stomach.
he hated seeing her like this.
"i'm pregnant."
han's eyes widened. "what? babe, why didn't you tell me?"
"i've been trying all day. but you've had your hands full with dk and sean and drifting." she said sadly. "but i can't raise this baby with dk breathing down our necks. you need to get out of this life, seoul-oh."
han frowned thoughtfully, one hand resting against the side of her face. "i'm going to be a father. fucking hell, babe this is incredible. i promise you, i'm going to make a plan, and i'm going to get us out of tokyo."
"you know we can't keep this a secret any longer, right? i'm already eight weeks along, once the first trimester ends, i won't be able to hide it."
"you're right, you're right. we'll test the waters. i'll tell sean and twinkie in the morning, see how the news of our relationship goes over with them. i want to keep it from dk until i can find a way to get us out of here."
y/n nodded, lacing her fingers with han's and placing his hand on her stomach. "okay. let's do this thing." she broke out into a smile. "we're going to be parents, han. can't you picture it? sitting behind the wheel of your toyota, with our little gremlin on your lap, teaching them how to drive before they can even walk."
han laughed. "they'll be born with a monkey wrench in one hand and a bag of lays in the other."
"i love you, seoul-oh." she said softly, kissing him gently. "i'm so glad i found you three years ago.
"i love you more, y/n. and i can't wait to raise this kid with you."
Tags (though im not sure if any of you are interested loll):
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh
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morgana-larkin · 20 days
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Hey I was wondering if u could do Melissa x reader where reader has scars that she’s embarrassed about and so she always wear a jumpers or long sleeves but one day it’s really warm and reader refuses to take it off coz she’s embarrassed and Melissa helps her realise that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about (as always no pressure I adore your work sm 🫶)
This was really cute, I liked writing this. I must be in a mood cause it’s the second fic today I wrote and it has smut 🤦🏼‍♀️ maybe just excited to see our girl on screen again 🤷🏻‍♀️
On another note: on to the next prompt and I’m wondering where that’s gonna go, possibly heartbreak from my own creation, @esposadejoyhuerta I’m looking at you, your prompt is next.
Map Of Your Scars
Warnings: reader self conscious about her scars, smut
Words: 2.3k
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You stand there looking at yourself naked in the mirror and take a deep breath. Looking at all your scars you have, either from the car accident you were in, cuts that didn’t heal all the way or acne scars.
You take another deep breath and then get dressed, getting ready for another day at Abbott Elementary. You’ve been working there for almost 9 months as a fifth grade teacher and you absolutely love it. The staff are great, the kids are great, the principal is questionable, it’s a blast there.
It’s warm out since it’s mid May so you go for a light jumper and sweater. Already you feel warm just walking into the halls of the school but you’ve done this before, just keep the sweater on until you get home.
You walk into the break room and get a coffee and you sit next to Melissa on the couch to watch the news with them. Melissa looks over at your jumper and sweater and quirks an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not going to be wearing that sweater on our recess duty today like you did last week.” She tells you and you blush. You developed a crush on the beautiful redhead, and from what you hear, she’s only dated exclusively men, bummer.
“Recess duty? Oh is that today?” You ask, you totally forgot about that. Melissa nods and you sigh. “Well I am, I think it looks good with the jumper.”
“Hun, it does look good but it’s not practical.” She points out. Melissa ignored you when you first got there but has since taken an interest in you, all the recess duties together probably helped.
“If I get too hot then I’ll take it off and wrap it around my waist, so it’s fine.” You tell her with a shrug and at that, she drops it.
At lunchtime, you still have the sweater on and refuse to take it off. You can see Melissa keeps eyeing you and the sweater.
“Can I help you Melissa?” You ask her when you see her looking at you again.
“Hun it’s like 25 degrees (77 Fahrenheit) out. You’re gonna be hot in that.” She says and you sigh.
“Actually at the moment I’m fine.” You tell her and she goes back to her phone and food.
When you two are walking together to go outside for your recess duty, she glances at you.
You both are outside, 10 minutes in to your recess duty, making sure the students are keeping out of trouble. Melissa walks up to you, “hun, take the sweater off, I can see you sweating.” She says.
“I’m fine.” You say and walk away. You’re not fine though, you are starting to get really hot but you don’t want anyone to see your scars, especially her, the red goddess that visits you in your dreams.
20 minutes later you’re really sweating and lightheaded and starting to see blurry spots in your vision. You and Melissa are rounding the kids up and she can see you’re not doing well, she’s noticed you trying to stabilise yourself more than once. Once the kids are heading inside she comes up to you again.
“Hey are you ok? You don’t look too good.” She says and puts a hand on your arm. You don’t really notice the hand on you, you’re too busy trying not to fall. You just nod at her and she helps to lead you inside.
You take one step in the school and you immediately fall. “Y/N!” Melissa yells as she catches you. Gregory is close by when he hears Melissa yelling and looks at her and sees you in her arms. He runs over to her and sees that your eyes are closed.
“What happened?” He asks her and she looks up at him.
“Heat exhaustion. I told her to take the stupid sweater off. Can you help me carry her to the nurse?” She asks and he nods and picks you up.
Once you're at the nurses office, they lay you down on the bed and Melissa takes off your sweater. The nurse instructs Gregory to leave as they need to unbutton your jumper to release the heat in your body.
You wake up and the first thing you notice is that you’re not hot anymore or sweaty. In fact, you’re perfectly fine. Then you notice there’s a breeze on the top half of you and you look down at yourself and see your sweater is off and your jumper is unbuttoned. You look over to your left and see Melissa talking to the nurse. She then notices you awake and walks over to you.
“Hey, how you feeling?” She asks you.
“Good.” You tell her, as you start to button up your jumper in a panic.
“You gave me a scare back there.” She tells you and you look up at her as you finish buttoning up your jumper.
“Where’s my sweater?” You ask her as you look around for it.
“I have it but I’m not giving it to you.” You look at her.
“Why?”
“Why? Because you fainted from heat exhaustion, that’s why. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just take it off? Why are you wearing a jumper? It’s May right now. You can’t be dressing in hot clothes anymore.”
“I can wear what I want.” You say to her and cover up your arms as much as possible.
“Why didn’t you just take it off?” She asks you and you look over and see the nurse watching the conversation and you look away embarrassed. Melissa looks back and sees. “Do you mind giving us the room for a moment please?” She asks the nurse and she nods and leaves the room. “So why didn’t you take it off?” She asks you again.
“Because…of my scars.” You say quietly.
“You’re scars?” Melissa asked. She of course noticed them when she was helping to undress you but didn’t think much of them.
“Ya, they’re embarrassing, so I cover them up so no one else sees them.” You tell her.
“Hun, it doesn’t matter if you got scars, no one's gonna care or say anything bad about them. And if they do then I’ll take care of them.” She tells you with a wink and you look at her, still embarrassed. Melissa tries a different approach. “I saw them and I still think you’re beautiful.” She says and you look at her with wide eyes.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask her and she nods.
“Uh huh, inside and out.” She tells you and you blush. “How did you get them? Your scars.” She asked and you take a deep breath.
“Car accident, cuts and acne.”
“Your scars are a part of you and they tell a story of who you are, nothing to be ashamed of.” She tells you and you look down, you don’t quite believe what she’s telling you. Melissa notices your disbelief and knows she has to try something drastic, drastic situations call for drastic measures. She places her hand on your chin and forces you to look up at her. “Maybe you’ll believe me now.” She tells you in a low, almost seductive voice, and kisses you.
You’re stunned when she does and you don’t know what to do. She pulls back and sees your expression. “Were you not expecting that?” She jokes and you shake your head.
“I..um…well… you’re straight.” You tell her and she giggles.
“I’m not straight hun. I lean more towards men but a few women have caught my eye over the years.” She tells you and you stare at her in disbelief. “Do you have a crush on me?” She asks you since you’re staring at her and you nod your head. “Well that’s good cause I have a crush on you.” She tells you and you blink at her, looking like a deer in the headlights. She cups your cheek, “can I kiss you again?” She asks you and you immediately nod your head and she giggles, she kisses you again and this time you kiss her back. You put a hand at the back of her head and she places one on your waist. After about a minute, you pull away for air.
“Wow” you say, trying to catch your breath.
“How about you come back to my place tonight? It’s Friday night so no school tomorrow and maybe I can show you another way of how beautiful you are, with or without scars.” She tells you and you practically hear your brain crashing.
“I- you…um..what?” You ask her.
She leans in to your ear and whispers seductively. “If you come over after school then I’ll kiss all your scars and your entire body.” She says and leans back and winks at you. “Think about it.” She says and leaves.
You go back to your students, completely forgetting that you don’t have a sweater on until one of your students asks you where you got the scar on your right arm. You look at it then look at your student that looks full of curiosity. “Car accident.” You tell him and your students all look at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
“That’s so cool! Not the car accident but your scar. It makes you look cool.” He says to you and you smile.
“Thanks kiddo.” You tell him and then get back to your lesson.
After school you dismiss your last student and see Melissa standing in your doorway, your sweater in her hands. “Hey.” Just tells you and you walk towards her.
“Hi.” You tell her and blush.
“You’re cute when you blush.” She says and you blush even more. “So have you decided about tonight?” She asks and you nod. “What is it then?”
“I want to come to your place.” You say and she smiles.
“Good choice, come on then. I’ll drive us there.” She says and turns to leave.
“What about my car?” You ask her and she looks at you.
“I can drive you back here to get it tomorrow.” She tells you and you nod and follow her out.
She drives you to her place, with a hand on your thigh the entire time, that you noticed kept creeping up more and more. You try to keep your composure but it was hard when her hand was so close to where you’ve wanted her for months.
As soon as you walk in her house she spins around and traps you between her and her door. You look at her stunned and you blush. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me, trying not to kiss you for the past 5 months?” She says in a seductive voice and you shake your head. “Well I’m going to show you, come on!” She tells you and grabs your hand and pulls you upstairs to her room.
Once there she pushes you down on the bed and crawls on top of you. The sight makes you lightheaded in the best way. She kisses you passionately and she takes your breath away. While kissing you, she begins to unbutton your jumper slowly. Once done, she pulls back and looks at you as she takes the top half off of you.
“You look so beautiful.” She says and begins kissing the scars that are on your chest and arms. She then proceeds to kiss your neck then nipples and you moan. Once she’s satisfied with her work, she pulls the button part of your jumper off of you. “Omg y/n, how are you so beautiful? I feel so lucky right now.” She says and kisses the scars on your legs. After she makes sure she got all of them, she then kisses your clit, making you buck your hips.
“Oh Melissa, oh my god.” You say grabbing her hair as she sucks on your clit. She pulls away and replaces her lips with a finger.
“What is it baby? What is it you want?” She asks you with a smirk.
“You! Want you, inside me.” You tell her and she smiles.
“As you wish.” And she pushes 2 fingers inside of you and you moan. Melissa is just loving the sounds you’re making because of her, she could listen to them all day. But for now, she wants to hear you when you cum. She attaches her mouth back to your clit and continues to fuck you with her fingers. She sees you start to shake and feels you clenching her fingers. “Are you gonna cum baby?” She asks and you nod. “Go on then, cum for me.” She tells you and you cum on her fingers. She gently pulls out of you and licks her fingers that were inside of you, moaning at the taste of you. “God, you’re so beautiful and you taste so good.” She says and you blush.
Monday morning you come to school in a dress that stops mid thigh and a smile on your face. You walk into the break room, get your coffee and sit on the couch next to Melissa. She sees you in a dress and she smiles and places a kiss on your lips.
All your coworkers see this and their jaws drop. Then Ava hands $20 over to Barb and Gregory hands $20 over to Jacob and Janine. You look at them all confused. “Were you betting on something?” You ask them.
“Ya, they were betting on when I’d tell you I like you.” Melissa says with a sigh and you giggle. Melissa wraps an arm around you and pulls you in closer.
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta
@imaginesmultifandoms
@idonothingalldays-blog
@sexysapphicshopowner
@dvrkhcld
Let me know if you want to be added!
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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 months
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Hi hope everyone is doing well, i am currently on vacations so i have a lot of time to read, im craving derek having to grovel for something and stiles not accepting every damaged done to him so easilyand building the trust slowly. Please no cheating and only happy endings cause i cant take sad or open ones. Also sterek obviously.
I think so, @anbecoqu!
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To Feel Your Heart as It’s Keeping Mine by Vendelin
(1/1 I 8,563 I Teen)
Stiles and Derek have been dating for four months, when Derek gets in an accident and loses all his memories from the past year and a half. Now, he’s once again the Derek Stiles used to despise, and even worse, Derek thinks that he still hates Stiles’ guts.
Mr. Hale and the Lumberjack by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
(1/1 I 15,407 I Teen)
“Derek,” Stiles whined, draping himself across Erica’s desk. She patted his back comfortingly. “Derek, why doesn’t the lumberjack like me? What can I do to change that?”
“If you’ve opened your mouth around him, that explains everything,” Derek told him coldly. “Maybe try shutting up for once. And standing still. Not breathing would help your cause, too.”
Stiles let out a wail of despair, and everyone quickly moved in to comfort him. Derek scowled, annoyed, and clapped his hands loudly.
“Enough. Back to work. Stiles, get the fuck out of my department.”
“Language,” Stiles chided, pointing one finger at him while still draped across the desk.
Is This Unwise by Innaz (zanni_scaramouche)
(1/1 I 17,819 I Teen)
Derek expects Stiles to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck, but Derek won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Stiles has even turned around.
What he doesn’t expect is Stiles to fucking drop.
Sweet Buns by skoosiepants
(1/1 I 17,935 I Teen)
Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.
Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.
Or-
The a/b/o bakery au with feelings
Hello, Heartbreaker by astoryaboutwar
(1/1 I 18,472 I Explicit)
It’s a popular joke among Alphas: fuck an Omega, get heartbreak on your hands. Omegas are fragile little emotional things, needy and whiny. Stiles refuses to become that, or to believe that he’s anything like that.
Stiles and Derek have been fuckbuddies for a while when Derek loses his memories of the past three years - and them - in an accident. (Also - everyone’s a werewolf, and everyone’s alive.)
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chaotic-on-main · 7 months
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Epilogue
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☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world
☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.
☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, eventual smut
☾ Author's note ➼ Heeeeyy I'm back. If you haven't had an eye on my masterlist for Unspoken Words, you might have missed that I've been working on an epilogue. SURPRISE. If you have, then here it is lol. I am OFFICIALLY done with UW and I'm so sad about it. ALSO for some reason my tumblr app hates me and any time I italicize a line, it italicizes the entire paragraph and I have no idea why. As always, the sign language lines are marked with ' and speaking lines marked with ".
Thank you to anyone who has taken time out of their lives to read my "little" story. I enjoyed writing about this little world and I could not be happier to know that most of you liked reading it. I appreciate you more than you know. Can you believe this is around 100k words? Crazy. Anyways, I'm gonna go write some more, I'll see ya around! <3
☾ Word Count ➼ ~4k
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Reddish-orange leaves dance in a unique ballet number past the window you were currently staring out of. You can't keep your fingers from picking at the sleeves of your wool sweater as you wait for your speech therapist to come and get you from the semi-quiet lobby. The only noises you hear comes from the reception desk and the TV mounted opposite of the couch you were waiting on. The weather channel calls for a beautiful weekend with warmer than usual temperatures – which is good considering Halloween is tomorrow.
A side door leading to the back offices opens up, and your name is called from a stout brunette woman with large rimmed glasses and a kind smile. She holds it open as she beckons you forward, and you don't hesitate to smile back as you pick up your bag and make your way through the door and down the familiar hall on her heels.
You’ve been seeing Dr. Boreal for about almost two years now. You started speech therapy shortly after starting trauma therapy – something they had recommended. You weren't quick to decline the suggestion, but you'd be lying if you said you had ever thought about taking back your speech. Some time in your youth, you just assumed it was gone forever. That it was something that couldn't be fixed.
According to Dr. Foust, your trauma therapist, the speech block was mental. Therefore, it was something that could be explored and possibly broken through.
When he had said that, you had newfound hope and suddenly a silent goal to work towards.
It's like clockwork the way you stepped into Dr. Boreal's navy blue office, stepping over to the right and onto the plush cream colored couch meant just for patients. On the walls of her office sits multiple picture frames and motivational posters, all with smiles and bright colors. Her dark curtains sit parted, letting in the afternoon autumn sun that hits the wall next to you. You watch as she grabs the folder with your name on it before sitting in her large red chair and smiling over to you.
“So, how have you been? How was your trip with Levi?”
‘I’m doing well. And It was lovely! You were right, too. The road to Trost is gorgeous this time of year and the trees! So pretty.’ You think back at the little vacation Levi took you on just a week ago. He had taken the scenic route to the little town that you and he had rented a cabin in.
The leaves were at the end of their life and littered the ground wherever you went, crunching underneath your boots. Between the intimate moments and crisp atmosphere, it really was a magical time. Levi practically had to drag you back home.
On the way out, Levi found this adorable tea shop. It's not easy finding a place that made tea as well as he did, and of course he didn't say anything, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it. You won't soon forget the content on his normally stoic face. That reminds you of the little package snuggled in your purse so you reach down into it to pull out a small, rectangular tin.
‘I got this for you.’ You beam at her as you hand it over gently.
“Cranberry autumn tea?” She inspects the wording on the metal, hazel eyes glittering gold in the sunlight that reflects off the container. Her eyes shift to you as a grateful smile lights up her weathered face. “Oh you sweet thing, thank you so much. But you shouldn't have.”
‘As thanks for dealing with me.’ You laugh softly, leaning back into the plush couch.
“You know it's no problem. Even if I wasn't paid, I'd still enjoy your company.” She waves dismissively after setting her gift down on the table in front of her. “So, let's see where we left off last time.”
You pick at the edges of your sleeves once again as you watch her find the right place in her notes. Dr. Boreal is one of the kindest people you've had the pleasure of being around. Though she was being paid to help you, she always did so much more. She was patient with you when you struggled to get past certain goals, and when your voice hurt after a grueling session she would bring you herbal tea with honey to smooth the pain. Levi joked that you liked her tea more than his to which you always rolled your eyes at.
“Well you have made outstanding progress. Of course, there is still plenty we still need to work on. But you're doing well.” She looks down at her papers as she talks, the scratch of her pen fills the silence after she finishes. She looks back up to you. “Have you shown anyone your progress yet?”
Those around you are aware of your long journey through therapy. They even celebrated with you after one year - Hange's idea of course. Your sister couldn't hold it in when you had told them of the progress you've made and the goals you were looking forward to completing in the oncoming sessions.  
What they didn't know was that you were even in speech therapy, and how far in your speech recovery you were. Keeping it secret from Levi was getting harder with every passing week.
‘No, but I plan to soon, I promise.’ You pinch your lips together in a grimace. This has been a threat for the last 6 months but truthfully, you've been too scared to tell anyone. No, not scared. Nervous.
“Well, you know my stance on that. I’m sure they're going to be ecstatic, when you're ready to do so.” Dr. Boreal sets out a recorder to let you hear your voice the way she does, a tool you both found the most helpful when it came to fixing the areas that needed the most work. “Enough of that though, are you ready to start?”
With a confident smile, you open your mouth to speak.
.
A few hours later, you find yourself home and in the kitchen with your mind in another dimension. You’re currently plating up a vegetable tray on a tupperware platter as autumnal lofi weaves through the room from the speakers behind you. You’re so focused on arranging your sliced up miscellaneous veggies that you don't hear the metal key in the front door and the light footsteps of your boyfriend coming home for the evening.
“Hey.” Levi mutters from behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing – not without difficulty, of course. You jump at his sudden proximity causing you to drop the chosen dipping sauces in the middle of the platter, disturbing the once perfect arrangement.
There's a soft sigh from you, but you feel the giddiness at the expected company fluttering in your stomach. Even after a few years, he still gives you that effect. You twist in his arms to face him, and his gray eyes are downturned in concern.  
“Are you okay? Was therapy too much today?” He lessens his grip on you so you can pull your hands up to sign.
Levi Ackerman’s raven hair is slicked back from him running his fingers through it, and the way that it stayed put and the sheen on the strands, you can tell it must be raining. You've been so fixated on making sure it looked good that you hadn't even noticed. His gaze stares into yours as he searches for what might be bothering you, so you give him a reassuring smile.
‘No, it was actually really good. She said I've made a lot of progress.’
“That's good. Did you come home late, or have you been working on this tray the whole time?” He glances over your shoulder at the vegetables now thrown about on the counter.
‘Yes and no. I decided to run by the farmers market for more options. But they didn't have anything we didn't already have.’ You explain, shrugging your shoulders.
The afternoon sun was so nice on your face that you would have been a fool to not take advantage of it - and it's a good thing you did. Your eyes slide to the water droplets that drip down on the outside of the living room windows.
“Hm. Well we need to leave for Hange's party soon and you're not dressed. Let me finish this for you and you go get ready.” He leans in to kiss your forehead before unraveling his arms and pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. You only roll your eyes but make your way to the back as he asked.
Hange's Halloween Bash is something they have been planning for about a year. The moment the decorations went on sale last winter, she snatched up what she could. She said something about starting a new tradition for her friends turned family. Levi wasn't as excited about the prospect of such a social gathering but you were, and that was enough to get him to go.
Not only were you able to get him to go, you were also able to talk him into dressing up with you.  
In front of the mirror, you finish tying up a black corset that wraps around your waist. It helps form-fit the blue long sleeve dress that drops down to your bare ankles with your pair of flats completing the look. You were almost ready – all that was left was the big blue bow that you pinned to the back of your head as best you could. You suppose for a makeshift Ariel, this would do just fine. You almost chuckle at the irony of the characters you suggested to Levi a month ago.
A girl who can't talk and a prince that loved her despite it.
You do a small twirl in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. You almost jump out of your skin at the sudden sight of the person standing in the doorway. Levi leans against the door frame, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. His hands are in the pockets of his work clothes as he watches you intently, taking in the sight of you. With a hand over your heart, you give him a small frown.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” He doesn't sound sorry at all.
‘You are too quiet for your own good. One day you're going to scare me so bad that I'm going to punch you.’ You shake your head but smile anyways. You make your way to the closet to pull out Levi's costume for the night, making sure to grab the red waist sash that threatens to fall to the floor.
“You keep saying that.” He takes the hanger from you but not before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss. With a small laugh, you head out of the bedroom and down the hall back to the kitchen.
On your way there, you take a moment to glance at the framed photographs on the walls. Levi made sure to hang up the pictures he took from his apartment that he shared with Erwin as soon as you both moved in.
There was the one of him, Furlan, and Isabel as well as the one of him and Erwin on graduation day though Levi had persisted with Erwin to keep the latter. His blonde and blue eyed friend told him to take it as he had plenty more photos of the two he could hang up. That didn’t make Levi feel any better and it makes you wonder what photos Levi might be hiding from you.
Dispersed in between those are ones of you and Hange, and some with your shared circle of friends. The last one frames three photo strips next to each other. The first one is from your first Sakura Festival a few years ago where you sat on Levi's lap – both red faced and unaware of the extent of your affections for each other.
The other two are from the same photo booth, taken from the previous and current year. With each year, the smiles and looks of adoration grew. Both, luckily, were without the presence of your sister and Erwin. Surprisingly, it wasn't your idea to go back. As much as Levi did his best to hide his sentimental side, it was always present.  
When you get to the kitchen counter, you see the platter rearranged and closed up with the matching plastic lid. It looks perfect, even better than when you took a crack at it. You also see two cups of tea on the counter, both with steam rising up and dancing in the kitchen lights before dissipating into the air.
With a grin, you reach over to grab what you can only assume is yours based on the light color of your tea then walk around the island to sit on the bar stool, leaning on the counter with the mug in both hands. After your first sip, you sigh happily. It was one of the new teas Levi had brought back from the trip because he couldn't get enough of it. Earthy with hints of floral notes, topped with a citrusy zing.
When you start to wonder if Levi was okay, your eyes catch movement in the hallway. You watch Levi struggle with his sash, the soft grumbling of his irritation coming from under his breath as he tugs on it. Sometimes you never realize how hard it is to do something with less than the normal amount of fingers until it's forced upon you. Of course, Levi was never one to ask for help even after all these years.
Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way over to him. He doesn't fight as you take the fabric from his fingers and tighten it from the back. Tucked into the sash is a white blouse, loose enough to billow in the evening breeze. Black pants and matching boots fit snug against his lower half. When you're done, you turn him to face you to inspect the whole ensemble. With his hair properly slicked back, he was the perfect Prince Eric.
‘You look rather dashing, you know that?’
“Tch.” He rolls his eyes at you, but there's not a trace of annoyance radiating off of him. As much as he hates it, he loves you and would do anything you asked – within reason.
‘Are you almost ready to go?’
“In a few, I didn't just brew this for nothing.” He makes his way to the counter to grab his mug and instead of sitting, he stands propped up against the counter like you were but with his phone in hand.
“Your sister wants to know if you want apple juice or apple cider.” He mutters, his gray eyes flicking up over to you as you make your way over to the seat you were just at to finish your own cup. “Both, right?”
‘How did you know?’ You laugh, but nod in agreement. You watch as his fingers type away, the clicking of the keys filling back empty space. There's barely any sunlight coming through the closed blinds signifying that nightfall was almost here. You just now noticed Levi had gone ahead and turned off everything for you while you were getting ready.
The gut feeling you felt last week is back. There was a moment when Levi drove through the rolling hills, the golden rays of sunset lighting up his face. A moment of peace that washed over you as his soft gaze flitted over to you in the passenger seat for only a second, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
With a nervous sigh, you reach over and pull down his phone with one finger to get his attention. Instantly he looks at you with worry, his mouth downturned.
“Are you okay?”
‘I bet you love me.’
His eyebrows raise, a little surprised at your random question – at something so obvious that he worries even more that something is wrong.
“What’s this about?”
‘Humor me. I bet you love me.’
“You bet right.” He draws out, confusion lacing his tone. 
‘You have to answer a question now. Since I was right.’
“What do you want to know that you don’t already?” His eyes roll at you again, but he sets his phone and mug down and leans over on his elbows to watch you intently.
‘It’s a simple but very important question, I promise.’
“Tch, okay. Hit me.”
Your eyes are suddenly fixated on the fridge to the right of you, the heat of his stare making you shy. For a split second, you almost chicken out. With your heart in your throat, you feel as if you're going to choke as your pulse quickens. Can you do this? Were you ready for this? You were quite tired after today, maybe it's best saved for another day. These thoughts race loudly in your head, but the moment you look back up to meet Levi's gaze, they cease to a quiet murmur.
No, you're ready. And you can do this.
With your fingers laced together, you rest your chin on them and continue to look up at Levi's perplexed expression. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you're finally able to find your voice.
“Will… you marry… me, Levi?” Your voice is scratchy despite the honey tea you drank after your session. It's rough, and to you it's far from pretty. But the change in expression on Levi's face is almost worth it as he stares at you dazed. It's almost funny to see the physical reaction of his brain comprehending what just happened, like a computer crashing and rebooting.
He's reaching over the counter suddenly and cupping your face in his calloused hands. He holds you there as his wide eyes bounce back and forth between yours. You fight back a laugh, your lips pinched together and quivering.
“Do that again. Say my name again.” The urgency in his voice is palpable.
“L…” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to find your voice yet again. It's hard, but you try again anyway. “Levi.” It comes out brittle this time, leaving an uncomfortable pain in its wake.
“How did this happen?” His own voice sounds a little higher than before, and you have to bite back another laugh.
‘I've been working on it alongside my sessions with Foust.’ You've met your vocal quota for the day. Levi's hands stay cupped around your cheeks and he pulls you in until his soft lips touch yours again. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss him back, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift off your shoulders in an instant.
When he pulls away, his stare is conflicted and before you know it, he's released you and whips around the corner down the hallway. Dread inches its way into your chest where the anxiety was before as you realize he never answered your question. Did he need a moment? Did he even hear what you asked? The shock may have been too much. Your teeth bite into the inside of your cheek as you watch the dark hallway nervously.
A few seconds later, he emerges from the shadows with red creeping from his neck up into his face. He's flustered and holding something small in his hand. It takes you a moment to register what it was, and when you do, you jump to your feet to meet him halfway.
He doesn’t hesitate to open it to you though his fingers tremble ever so slightly. Inside are two golden rings, interlocked together. A small oval ruby sits surrounded by metal vines beset by smaller white diamonds in the shape of leaves. It's simple yet elegant. Your eyes snap up to his, no doubt as big as saucers.
Not only is this ring breathtaking, it's also groundbreaking to you. You've seen this ring box around since before you both had moved in together. It's been in the closet collecting dust, so of course you didn't think anything of it. He's had this ring for a long time, sitting right under your nose.
‘How long were you planning to propose?’
“For a while now. I just didn't know when would be a good time.” He carefully takes out the one with the red ruby and holds it up to you. The kitchen lights glimmer off the smooth surface reflecting red against his fingers. “I can't believe you beat me to it, though.” So he did hear you.
‘I wasn't planning to do it tonight, but I just had a feeling.’
“You never cease to amaze me, you know that?” He leans over to place the ring box onto the side table behind him, then turns to you. Then he does something you've only ever seen in movies – Levi gets down on one knee and the ring out to you.
“Um. I'm not good with things like this. But I just want you to know that I love you. And I've never been more prepared to spend my life with someone, if you'll have me. Will you marry me?” His eyes look away for a second before focusing back on you. Even though you had pretty much said yes when you asked first, he still seemed so nervous.  
To see Levi in such a mess like this in front of you makes that laugh you held back burst forth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Speechless again, you reach your hand out to him and just like that, he slides the ring on your finger with ease.
“I- uh, borrowed one of your rings to get it resized.” He mutters as you stare at it curiously. “So, that's a yes right?” Even though you took the ring, you can still hear the anxiety in his voice.
‘Of course, dummy.’ You laugh again before pulling him up on his feet by his collar and into you for another kiss, this time deeper and full of the love that you have for this man. When you pull away, you can't help but stare at the metal hugging your ring finger.
“It was my mom’s, she insisted on me having it. I think she knew.” He grabs your hand and pulls you into him, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face. “I suppose we should call her tomorrow, yeah?”
You nod sharply, your smile hurting your cheeks, but you don't care. All you feel right now is the same peace you felt last week and excitement for the future ahead. You didn't want anyone else. 
“Say it again?”
“Levi.” He leans in again, hand still on your face as he presses his lips against your once more. There have been many shared kisses since you both became official but this one felt different. You didn't have the words for it, but it was miles away from being bad.
Levi's phone vibrating loudly on the counter disturbs the comfortable silence and you can only sigh. You almost forgot that you had somewhere to be and are reminded by the caller ID flashing your sister's name. In Levi fashion, he ignores it but he does pull away to look at you with a grimace.
“So who’s telling them?” 
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☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part 5
86 notes · View notes
spicerackofblorbos · 3 months
Text
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Epilogue
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☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world
☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.
☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, eventual smut
☾ Author's note ➼ Heeeeyy I'm back. If you haven't had an eye on my masterlist for Unspoken Words, you might have missed that I've been working on an epilogue. SURPRISE. If you have, then here it is lol. I am OFFICIALLY done with UW and I'm so sad about it. ALSO for some reason my tumblr app hates me and any time I italicize a line, it italicizes the entire paragraph and I have no idea why. As always, the sign language lines are marked with ' and speaking lines marked with ".
Thank you to anyone who has taken time out of their lives to read my "little" story. I enjoyed writing about this little world and I could not be happier to know that most of you liked reading it. I appreciate you more than you know. Can you believe this is around 100k words? Crazy. Anyways, I'm gonna go write some more, I'll see ya around! &lt;3
☾ Word Count ➼ ~4k
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Reddish-orange leaves dance in a unique ballet number past the window you were currently staring out of. You can't keep your fingers from picking at the sleeves of your wool sweater as you wait for your speech therapist to come and get you from the semi-quiet lobby. The only noises you hear comes from the reception desk and the TV mounted opposite of the couch you were waiting on. The weather channel calls for a beautiful weekend with warmer than usual temperatures – which is good considering Halloween is tomorrow.
A side door leading to the back offices opens up, and your name is called from a stout brunette woman with large rimmed glasses and a kind smile. She holds it open as she beckons you forward, and you don't hesitate to smile back as you pick up your bag and make your way through the door and down the familiar hall on her heels.
You’ve been seeing Dr. Boreal for about almost two years now. You started speech therapy shortly after starting trauma therapy – something they had recommended. You weren't quick to decline the suggestion, but you'd be lying if you said you had ever thought about taking back your speech. Some time in your youth, you just assumed it was gone forever. That it was something that couldn't be fixed.
According to Dr. Foust, your trauma therapist, the speech block was mental. Therefore, it was something that could be explored and possibly broken through.
When he had said that, you had newfound hope and suddenly a silent goal to work towards.
It's like clockwork the way you stepped into Dr. Boreal's navy blue office, stepping over to the right and onto the plush cream colored couch meant just for patients. On the walls of her office sits multiple picture frames and motivational posters, all with smiles and bright colors. Her dark curtains sit parted, letting in the afternoon autumn sun that hits the wall next to you. You watch as she grabs the folder with your name on it before sitting in her large red chair and smiling over to you.
“So, how have you been? How was your trip with Levi?”
‘I’m doing well. And It was lovely! You were right, too. The road to Trost is gorgeous this time of year and the trees! So pretty.’ You think back at the little vacation Levi took you on just a week ago. He had taken the scenic route to the little town that you and he had rented a cabin in.
The leaves were at the end of their life and littered the ground wherever you went, crunching underneath your boots. Between the intimate moments and crisp atmosphere, it really was a magical time. Levi practically had to drag you back home.
On the way out, Levi found this adorable tea shop. It's not easy finding a place that made tea as well as he did, and of course he didn't say anything, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it. You won't soon forget the content on his normally stoic face. That reminds you of the little package snuggled in your purse so you reach down into it to pull out a small, rectangular tin.
‘I got this for you.’ You beam at her as you hand it over gently.
“Cranberry autumn tea?” She inspects the wording on the metal, hazel eyes glittering gold in the sunlight that reflects off the container. Her eyes shift to you as a grateful smile lights up her weathered face. “Oh you sweet thing, thank you so much. But you shouldn't have.”
‘As thanks for dealing with me.’ You laugh softly, leaning back into the plush couch.
“You know it's no problem. Even if I wasn't paid, I'd still enjoy your company.” She waves dismissively after setting her gift down on the table in front of her. “So, let's see where we left off last time.”
You pick at the edges of your sleeves once again as you watch her find the right place in her notes. Dr. Boreal is one of the kindest people you've had the pleasure of being around. Though she was being paid to help you, she always did so much more. She was patient with you when you struggled to get past certain goals, and when your voice hurt after a grueling session she would bring you herbal tea with honey to smooth the pain. Levi joked that you liked her tea more than his to which you always rolled your eyes at.
“Well you have made outstanding progress. Of course, there is still plenty we still need to work on. But you're doing well.” She looks down at her papers as she talks, the scratch of her pen fills the silence after she finishes. She looks back up to you. “Have you shown anyone your progress yet?”
Those around you are aware of your long journey through therapy. They even celebrated with you after one year - Hange's idea of course. Your sister couldn't hold it in when you had told them of the progress you've made and the goals you were looking forward to completing in the oncoming sessions.  
What they didn't know was that you were even in speech therapy, and how far in your speech recovery you were. Keeping it secret from Levi was getting harder with every passing week.
‘No, but I plan to soon, I promise.’ You pinch your lips together in a grimace. This has been a threat for the last 6 months but truthfully, you've been too scared to tell anyone. No, not scared. Nervous.
“Well, you know my stance on that. I’m sure they're going to be ecstatic, when you're ready to do so.” Dr. Boreal sets out a recorder to let you hear your voice the way she does, a tool you both found the most helpful when it came to fixing the areas that needed the most work. “Enough of that though, are you ready to start?”
With a confident smile, you open your mouth to speak.
.
A few hours later, you find yourself home and in the kitchen with your mind in another dimension. You’re currently plating up a vegetable tray on a tupperware platter as autumnal lofi weaves through the room from the speakers behind you. You’re so focused on arranging your sliced up miscellaneous veggies that you don't hear the metal key in the front door and the light footsteps of your boyfriend coming home for the evening.
“Hey.” Levi mutters from behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing – not without difficulty, of course. You jump at his sudden proximity causing you to drop the chosen dipping sauces in the middle of the platter, disturbing the once perfect arrangement.
There's a soft sigh from you, but you feel the giddiness at the expected company fluttering in your stomach. Even after a few years, he still gives you that effect. You twist in his arms to face him, and his gray eyes are downturned in concern.  
“Are you okay? Was therapy too much today?” He lessens his grip on you so you can pull your hands up to sign.
Levi Ackerman’s raven hair is slicked back from him running his fingers through it, and the way that it stayed put and the sheen on the strands, you can tell it must be raining. You've been so fixated on making sure it looked good that you hadn't even noticed. His gaze stares into yours as he searches for what might be bothering you, so you give him a reassuring smile.
‘No, it was actually really good. She said I've made a lot of progress.’
“That's good. Did you come home late, or have you been working on this tray the whole time?” He glances over your shoulder at the vegetables now thrown about on the counter.
‘Yes and no. I decided to run by the farmers market for more options. But they didn't have anything we didn't already have.’ You explain, shrugging your shoulders.
The afternoon sun was so nice on your face that you would have been a fool to not take advantage of it - and it's a good thing you did. Your eyes slide to the water droplets that drip down on the outside of the living room windows.
“Hm. Well we need to leave for Hange's party soon and you're not dressed. Let me finish this for you and you go get ready.” He leans in to kiss your forehead before unraveling his arms and pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. You only roll your eyes but make your way to the back as he asked.
Hange's Halloween Bash is something they have been planning for about a year. The moment the decorations went on sale last winter, she snatched up what she could. She said something about starting a new tradition for her friends turned family. Levi wasn't as excited about the prospect of such a social gathering but you were, and that was enough to get him to go.
Not only were you able to get him to go, you were also able to talk him into dressing up with you.  
In front of the mirror, you finish tying up a black corset that wraps around your waist. It helps form-fit the blue long sleeve dress that drops down to your bare ankles with your pair of flats completing the look. You were almost ready – all that was left was the big blue bow that you pinned to the back of your head as best you could. You suppose for a makeshift Ariel, this would do just fine. You almost chuckle at the irony of the characters you suggested to Levi a month ago.
A girl who can't talk and a prince that loved her despite it.
You do a small twirl in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. You almost jump out of your skin at the sudden sight of the person standing in the doorway. Levi leans against the door frame, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. His hands are in the pockets of his work clothes as he watches you intently, taking in the sight of you. With a hand over your heart, you give him a small frown.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” He doesn't sound sorry at all.
‘You are too quiet for your own good. One day you're going to scare me so bad that I'm going to punch you.’ You shake your head but smile anyways. You make your way to the closet to pull out Levi's costume for the night, making sure to grab the red waist sash that threatens to fall to the floor.
“You keep saying that.” He takes the hanger from you but not before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss. With a small laugh, you head out of the bedroom and down the hall back to the kitchen.
On your way there, you take a moment to glance at the framed photographs on the walls. Levi made sure to hang up the pictures he took from his apartment that he shared with Erwin as soon as you both moved in.
There was the one of him, Furlan, and Isabel as well as the one of him and Erwin on graduation day though Levi had persisted with Erwin to keep the latter. His blonde and blue eyed friend told him to take it as he had plenty more photos of the two he could hang up. That didn’t make Levi feel any better and it makes you wonder what photos Levi might be hiding from you.
Dispersed in between those are ones of you and Hange, and some with your shared circle of friends. The last one frames three photo strips next to each other. The first one is from your first Sakura Festival a few years ago where you sat on Levi's lap – both red faced and unaware of the extent of your affections for each other.
The other two are from the same photo booth, taken from the previous and current year. With each year, the smiles and looks of adoration grew. Both, luckily, were without the presence of your sister and Erwin. Surprisingly, it wasn't your idea to go back. As much as Levi did his best to hide his sentimental side, it was always present.  
When you get to the kitchen counter, you see the platter rearranged and closed up with the matching plastic lid. It looks perfect, even better than when you took a crack at it. You also see two cups of tea on the counter, both with steam rising up and dancing in the kitchen lights before dissipating into the air.
With a grin, you reach over to grab what you can only assume is yours based on the light color of your tea then walk around the island to sit on the bar stool, leaning on the counter with the mug in both hands. After your first sip, you sigh happily. It was one of the new teas Levi had brought back from the trip because he couldn't get enough of it. Earthy with hints of floral notes, topped with a citrusy zing.
When you start to wonder if Levi was okay, your eyes catch movement in the hallway. You watch Levi struggle with his sash, the soft grumbling of his irritation coming from under his breath as he tugs on it. Sometimes you never realize how hard it is to do something with less than the normal amount of fingers until it's forced upon you. Of course, Levi was never one to ask for help even after all these years.
Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way over to him. He doesn't fight as you take the fabric from his fingers and tighten it from the back. Tucked into the sash is a white blouse, loose enough to billow in the evening breeze. Black pants and matching boots fit snug against his lower half. When you're done, you turn him to face you to inspect the whole ensemble. With his hair properly slicked back, he was the perfect Prince Eric.
‘You look rather dashing, you know that?’
“Tch.” He rolls his eyes at you, but there's not a trace of annoyance radiating off of him. As much as he hates it, he loves you and would do anything you asked – within reason.
‘Are you almost ready to go?’
“In a few, I didn't just brew this for nothing.” He makes his way to the counter to grab his mug and instead of sitting, he stands propped up against the counter like you were but with his phone in hand.
“Your sister wants to know if you want apple juice or apple cider.” He mutters, his gray eyes flicking up over to you as you make your way over to the seat you were just at to finish your own cup. “Both, right?”
‘How did you know?’ You laugh, but nod in agreement. You watch as his fingers type away, the clicking of the keys filling back empty space. There's barely any sunlight coming through the closed blinds signifying that nightfall was almost here. You just now noticed Levi had gone ahead and turned off everything for you while you were getting ready.
The gut feeling you felt last week is back. There was a moment when Levi drove through the rolling hills, the golden rays of sunset lighting up his face. A moment of peace that washed over you as his soft gaze flitted over to you in the passenger seat for only a second, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
With a nervous sigh, you reach over and pull down his phone with one finger to get his attention. Instantly he looks at you with worry, his mouth downturned.
“Are you okay?”
‘I bet you love me.’
His eyebrows raise, a little surprised at your random question – at something so obvious that he worries even more that something is wrong.
“What’s this about?”
‘Humor me. I bet you love me.’
“You bet right.” He draws out, confusion lacing his tone. 
‘You have to answer a question now. Since I was right.’
“What do you want to know that you don’t already?” His eyes roll at you again, but he sets his phone and mug down and leans over on his elbows to watch you intently.
‘It’s a simple but very important question, I promise.’
“Tch, okay. Hit me.”
Your eyes are suddenly fixated on the fridge to the right of you, the heat of his stare making you shy. For a split second, you almost chicken out. With your heart in your throat, you feel as if you're going to choke as your pulse quickens. Can you do this? Were you ready for this? You were quite tired after today, maybe it's best saved for another day. These thoughts race loudly in your head, but the moment you look back up to meet Levi's gaze, they cease to a quiet murmur.
No, you're ready. And you can do this.
With your fingers laced together, you rest your chin on them and continue to look up at Levi's perplexed expression. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you're finally able to find your voice.
“Will… you marry… me, Levi?” Your voice is scratchy despite the honey tea you drank after your session. It's rough, and to you it's far from pretty. But the change in expression on Levi's face is almost worth it as he stares at you dazed. It's almost funny to see the physical reaction of his brain comprehending what just happened, like a computer crashing and rebooting.
He's reaching over the counter suddenly and cupping your face in his calloused hands. He holds you there as his wide eyes bounce back and forth between yours. You fight back a laugh, your lips pinched together and quivering.
“Do that again. Say my name again.” The urgency in his voice is palpable.
“L…” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to find your voice yet again. It's hard, but you try again anyway. “Levi.” It comes out brittle this time, leaving an uncomfortable pain in its wake.
“How did this happen?” His own voice sounds a little higher than before, and you have to bite back another laugh.
‘I've been working on it alongside my sessions with Foust.’ You've met your vocal quota for the day. Levi's hands stay cupped around your cheeks and he pulls you in until his soft lips touch yours again. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss him back, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift off your shoulders in an instant.
When he pulls away, his stare is conflicted and before you know it, he's released you and whips around the corner down the hallway. Dread inches its way into your chest where the anxiety was before as you realize he never answered your question. Did he need a moment? Did he even hear what you asked? The shock may have been too much. Your teeth bite into the inside of your cheek as you watch the dark hallway nervously.
A few seconds later, he emerges from the shadows with red creeping from his neck up into his face. He's flustered and holding something small in his hand. It takes you a moment to register what it was, and when you do, you jump to your feet to meet him halfway.
He doesn’t hesitate to open it to you though his fingers tremble ever so slightly. Inside are two golden rings, interlocked together. A small oval ruby sits surrounded by metal vines beset by smaller white diamonds in the shape of leaves. It's simple yet elegant. Your eyes snap up to his, no doubt as big as saucers.
Not only is this ring breathtaking, it's also groundbreaking to you. You've seen this ring box around since before you both had moved in together. It's been in the closet collecting dust, so of course you didn't think anything of it. He's had this ring for a long time, sitting right under your nose.
‘How long were you planning to propose?’
“For a while now. I just didn't know when would be a good time.” He carefully takes out the one with the red ruby and holds it up to you. The kitchen lights glimmer off the smooth surface reflecting red against his fingers. “I can't believe you beat me to it, though.” So he did hear you.
‘I wasn't planning to do it tonight, but I just had a feeling.’
“You never cease to amaze me, you know that?” He leans over to place the ring box onto the side table behind him, then turns to you. Then he does something you've only ever seen in movies – Levi gets down on one knee and the ring out to you.
“Um. I'm not good with things like this. But I just want you to know that I love you. And I've never been more prepared to spend my life with someone, if you'll have me. Will you marry me?” His eyes look away for a second before focusing back on you. Even though you had pretty much said yes when you asked first, he still seemed so nervous.  
To see Levi in such a mess like this in front of you makes that laugh you held back burst forth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Speechless again, you reach your hand out to him and just like that, he slides the ring on your finger with ease.
“I- uh, borrowed one of your rings to get it resized.” He mutters as you stare at it curiously. “So, that's a yes right?” Even though you took the ring, you can still hear the anxiety in his voice.
‘Of course, dummy.’ You laugh again before pulling him up on his feet by his collar and into you for another kiss, this time deeper and full of the love that you have for this man. When you pull away, you can't help but stare at the metal hugging your ring finger.
“It was my mom’s, she insisted on me having it. I think she knew.” He grabs your hand and pulls you into him, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face. “I suppose we should call her tomorrow, yeah?”
You nod sharply, your smile hurting your cheeks, but you don't care. All you feel right now is the same peace you felt last week and excitement for the future ahead. You didn't want anyone else. 
“Say it again?”
“Levi.” He leans in again, hand still on your face as he presses his lips against your once more. There have been many shared kisses since you both became official but this one felt different. You didn't have the words for it, but it was miles away from being bad.
Levi's phone vibrating loudly on the counter disturbs the comfortable silence and you can only sigh. You almost forgot that you had somewhere to be and are reminded by the caller ID flashing your sister's name. In Levi fashion, he ignores it but he does pull away to look at you with a grimace.
“So who’s telling them?” 
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☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part 5
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firecooking · 7 months
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A fun piece that took me WAY too long to complete!
I wanted to draw out the Z stacks for my humanoid au and do something fun with the outfits and the posing. I almost always draw them in some form of work uniform or in their formal gear and while that's pretty accurate for most situations they also have non work good clothes, of course in shades of Zero Marine Bigg City approved browns and blacks.
I also wanted to highlight more personal styles with them as well as keeping the context of the 1920s in mind! I also gave them all weapons for fun!
Zip has a VERY stylish youthful way of dressing for the 1920s, his bow tie would be seen as rather formal in contrast to his outfit which would be very youthful and in matching, shorts don't match with sweaters, boots don't match short sleeves, young men often dressed 'eclectically' to 'stand out'. Zip Carries a rather standard hunting rifle, he doesn't much like to use it, but it lets him stay away from danger while protecting himself. He's a small guy and doesn't like to be in the action, the gun lets him keep his distance, and he quite likes that. He does know how to use it and will if necessary.
Zug wears a pretty average day suit, it's pants cut is a little big and the coat is a sport cut, he'd been seen as basically a lousy dresser, sorta like a used car sales man. Zug carries a Tommy Gun, he's a small guy and it gets the job done.
Zorran dresses in a modern for the time business suit, the cut is straight on the pants and jacket and the bi coloured pants and jacket would be seen as a more relaxed choice and he's forgone the vest of old. Winged saddle shoes complete the look, he would be a snazzy dresser in the eclectic sense like Zip. Zorran is a resourceful man and will fight with anything at hand, but a good old fashioned lead pipe is easy enough to carry and conceal and even easier to ditch without suspicion
Zebedee forgoes convention, instead going for comfort and a relaxed fit. The Zoot Suit is still two decades out but the smoking suit is making its debut, considered a wasteful use of fabric Zebedee is on the cutting edge of fashion, even if he just wanted something comfortable. He is a fan of brass knuckles, if he has to fight he'd rather brawl fair and square
Zak, like Zorran, forgoes a piece of the standard business suit, However his piece of choice is the Vest, which sets him firmly into casual. With a dark grey shirt and matching tie, pants, hat and shoes, Zak is scrubbing against the grain of fashion conventions of the time, Zak would be kicked out of a fancy restaurant on sight in such an outfit. Zak keeps a switch blade on him at all times, he's a big fan of stiletto style knives, they make quick work of any target
Zaffre opts to forgo feminine dress but doesn't abandon women's wear. The Blazer is in its second decade as women wear, note the lack of collar notches on the blazer and the single button, and the loose fitting light fabric pants are the trend with young flappers for day wear. Her shirt and tie are what step back into men's wear but are not unheard of anymore. She's young and a great example of a second generation suffragette, the right to vote is just the first step, you know. Zaffre hasn't opted for any weapons yet, the hat pins and batons of days past are not needed when you are ready and willing to beat someone to death with your bare hands. Maybe she'll find something someday
Also have a high chart because I am terrible at drawing them to scale, by 1920s average heights they are all pretty average, Zug and Zaff being extreme but not unheard of, by today's average heights literally all of them are average and below with Zug being unheard of as a 'normal' hight
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silaswritesthings · 5 months
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I am not in love with a criminal, part 2
Summary: Your friendship with a criminal flourished and left you wondering about how he managed to get you to let him into your kitchen to make dinner for you on a regular basis.
Starring: wtv character you’d like x reader (the characters I had in mind as I wrote this are mainly Scaramouche and Dazai)
Genre: romance, sfw, domestic fluff ig?
Warnings: A bit of cursing, characterisation of the love interest was influenced by a game i played lol-, written in first person
Author’s note: This took me much longer than I wanted it to take (I had my finals) but it’s finally done. The summary makes me want to drown in a pool. I redid it four times. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I tried to edit it more than once but I failed because my brain is fried from my exams… Likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be welcome!
Word count: 1100
Part 1 is here
I stared at one of the lightbulbs in my living room that had dimmed visibly over time, and was in need of replacement. “I wish I could read your thoughts.” A familiar voice spoke from behind me, “But if I could I wouldn’t be able to wonder about you as much as I do.”
When I turned to face him, his smile was as pleasant as his words. What universal principle has the answer to how his presence managed to light up my dim living room?
“I don’t wish I could read your thoughts,” I stated, my eyes not quite meeting his.
“Why?” He said, amused.
“I fear being driven to insanity.”
“It’s only fair, you’ve been steering me in the direction of insanity for almost two years now.”
After ending the conversation with a scoff, I walked past him and into the kitchen. He watched me with a quiet expression I couldn’t decipher without looking him in the eyes. I haven’t been able to do that with a steady heartbeat in a few months and that fact leaves me with unease.
Upon entering the kitchen, I sat by the island and pushed the vase of lavenders away from me to make space to rest my head against the cool marble counter.
“I could replace the lamp for you,” I heard him say above the sound of him moving around the kitchen, opening the oven, and the smell of his speciality casserole teased my senses. “I have an eye for these things.”
No, he doesn’t.
Will I ever get tired of the blatant lies I tell myself in the face of the truth that is; the various lamps, books and paintings that now make my home what it is? The same lamps, books and paintings he gifted to me many times no matter how many times I refused to thank him for the things he does for me?
I muttered a heavy and reluctant, “No.”
A moment of silence had passed when he tugged on the sleeve of my sweater, and I feared my chest would’ve burst open and I would’ve died after that gesture.
One hand held my sleeve gently while the other held a bundle of articles which had seen better days, without a doubt. The article on the top of the bundle had said in bold, ‘The disappearance of diplomats: A mere coincidence or a sign of political warfare?’
My heart sank. He smiled. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”
My gaze was steady but thoughts filled my head at a pace I couldn’t keep up with. What does he think of me now? Is he upset? Is he going to leave?
“I would reward your diligence when it comes to keeping a profile of my work-” he began, placing the stack of papers on the counter and letting go of my sweater, “-but it’s not something I try to hide from you.”
I remained expressionless. “Why?”
“Can we call it a friendship if I’m keeping secrets from you?”
I was embarrassed by his words. Could he be implying sincerity or, dare I say, vulnerability? Whatever it is, it’s not reciprocated. “It’s not a friendship because I am keeping secrets from you.”
His next words were spoken without a hint of hesitation. “You don’t need to tell me things when I can find them out on my own.”
“I am going to call the police.”
The bastard took my phone out of the pocket of his apron and placed it in front of me. “Go ahead.” He said, his voice sweet and innocent.
“What?”
“Call the police.” He took a few steps away from me, indicating he had no desire to interfere with me calling the police. I could only stare at him in disbelief.
“Are you insane?”
“I am and can become whatever you say that I am.”
What’s wrong with this- no, what’s wrong with me? I glanced at my phone and back at him again. His aze was fixed on the knife display beside him and my heart dropped for the worst reason! I was afraid he would notice how I had recently stopped hiding it whenever he came to visit.
“I’m a bit embarrassed.” He confessed. He was looking at me now, his eyes shimmering underneath the lights of my kitchen. “You trust me enough to bring me into your home, to cook for you and now you’ve stopped hiding your knife display.”
He tilted his head to the side with a faraway look momentarily on his face and muttered, “Though it’s stupid to think hiding a bunch of your knives would prevent someone from hurting you, criminals carry their own weapons do they not? My head just can’t wrap around the reason behind that act, which was quite stupid-”
The sound of my phone dialing a number cut off his incomprehensible nonsense (I heard every word and I was not impressed.)
To say he was shocked is an understatement. “You’re actually calling the cops?”
I held the phone up to my mouth, with the speaker on, once it was picked up after a single ring. “Please help me,” I began in a feigned panicked manner, “This strange man is stalking me and he broke into my house.”
‘He’ stood there, staring at me with his jaw separated from his face when I told the police officer on the other end of the line about my stalker and my address.
“Thank you, we will be there immediately. Please remain calm and try your best to not interact or aggravate the assailant.” And the call ended.
We stared at each other in silence for about five minutes before I spoke. “The cops are on their way, if I were you I would leave.”
“You’re no better than I.” His eyes accused weakly. “Holding back information from the authorities is illegal.” I could not comment.
He went on to plate the dinner he prepared, as if nothing happened, and suggested. “When they arrive you could always tell them your amazing boyfriend-”
“Don’t push it.”
“-Best friend had arrived and chased the stalker away!” He seemed proud of himself. It was sickening (and adorable, damn it).
With a sigh, I watched him and wondered, was our friendship a blessing or a curse? It was beginning to feel like the former- or rather, it has always felt that way but coming to terms with that fact may take some time. The thought made me smile because I knew he would be by my side during the entirety of that time.
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A sweater update:
It's been a slow week, seeing as work has significantly cut into the amount of time I have available for knitting. And on top of that I run every fucking day like an absolute moron.
That said, I am almost done with the body and this close to starting with sleeves my beloathed. Have gone through all stages of sleeve grief and arrived att "accepting that knit in sleeves are easiest", much as I hate to admit it.
Pics or it didn't happen proof tomorrow when the sun deigns to reappear again.
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nestingtendencies · 2 months
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Hello, my lovelies!
For some reason I don't post here often as just... me - the person behind NestingTendencies. I'm not quite sure why this is; I guess most of my crafting needs are catered to by Ravelry, as a platform. But I do realise that I have many, many wonderful followers, who have been regularly reblogging both the patterns that have piqued my interests and my own creations. And for that I am very grateful!
So I'd like to try and be a bit more social here; get to know you a little, learn what projects you're working on, and show you what's on my own hook!
First up is the Mariposa Sweater which has been the bane of my existence sole focus of my work since January!
You see, one of my new year's resolutions was to grow as a crafter beyond shawls, which are my specialty, and make sosme sweaters and jumpers! I've been having urges for those since last autumn and by now the craving cannot be ignored any longer.
So this is my first ever crocheted sweater, right? Do I bother with a gauge swatch?
No. Gauge swatches are for the weak.
Pretty soon I realise that my crochet is much, much tighter than the author's. Do I go back and try a size bigger? Do I increase the hook size to obtain the right gauge?
No. I decide that I know better, and I understand enough about how raglan works to just wing it. The joy of making a garment yourself is that you can make it fit your personal body contours perfectly, right?
So long story short, I am now on Mariposa the Second (First one is here) and I have frogged SUBSTANTIAL NUMBERS OF ROWS (like, all of the yoke for example) - wait for it - upwards of 20 times. Yes, 20. Not an exaggeration. If I hadn't done that, I could have probably about 4 completed Mariposas by now.
But no. The Gods have cursed me with a perfectionist streak. So we live and we learn and we carry that burden with us.
The photos in this post are the latest of the most correct version of this top that I currently have. My New Hope. My baby. I'm going to be sharing more WIP photos in the future.
The only good news is that as soon as I figure this sweater out, I'm going to have meticulous notes, which will give me the exact stitch sounts for my measurements and unlock the door to other jumpers like this one, of which I want to make at least 3.
And then there are other sweater patterns. 74 of them currently in my library. At least a dozen literally burning a hole in my consciousness - I want to start them immediately right now yesterday!!! Look look!
Elara Pullover - This is want in gradient purples, like an autumnal sunset
Chevie Sweaer - This I want in greys and golden ochres. I love the stitch used.
Don't Scrap That Raglan - Aaaah, Moss Stitch my favouritest stitch ever and I've almost improvised a sweater like this before!
Cosmopolitan Sweater - This I want in solid teal. Alpine stitch could well become my new mistress. It's also probably THE sweater I should have started with as my first project...
Peony Tee - I am in love with the funky-coloured contrasting sleeves and the raglan concept
Bridgette Ballet Neck Pullover - Ballet necks are my weakess...
Cap Sleeve Top - This I had a little romance with before, oh, about 8 years ago and it was shaping up beautifully in navy - I have all the yarn that I need for it.
Isop Sweater - I really want to learn this fair isle technique of making yokes, because I saw this pornographically beautiful set of 2 knitted sweaters in just the perfect colours and I'd like to do equvalent crochet versions, no I'm not at all trying to run before I can walk, why you ask?
Many of them much easier than Mariposa. Many of them not so tailored to the figure.
But no. Mariposa.
I have been buying up yarn in bulk again. This is how I know I'm in trouble.
But what about you guys? Do you have a Nemesis Project that has been kicking your ass for ages? Do you get overly ambitious like me? Or do you make your gauge swatches and avoid pissing off the Gods of Yarn, like sensible people?
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somber-sapphic · 9 months
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Of Misery and Murders
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〖Notes: This is my CM series that I have over on my Ao3, but I figured that some of you over here might enjoy it as well!〗
〖Summary: Emily gets sick at the same time a deranged killer starts cutting up faces in Seattle Washington.〗
〖Word Count: 1.4k〗
〖Pairing: Jemily〗
〖WARNINGS: Guys. I cannot stress this enough, this is a casefic. I have created a serial killer and I am going into detail. Nothing will happen to our main characters, but there will be descriptions of blood/death. Please don't read if this is something that bothers you. It is purely plot related and (unrelated I suppose) this is an ongoing series.〗
☾Masterlists☽
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Emily ignored the fuzzy numbers on the thermometer’s screen and put the device away, resolving to take four Advil and take a double dose of non-drowsy cold medicine. She understood that the idea was a bad one, but she had to get through the day. There were mountains of paperwork and JJ had hinted at an incoming case that they would need all hands on deck. 
The brunette bundled herself in a thick sweater and wrapped a scarf around her neck before taking one last glance in the mirror. She had done her best to cover the high flush on her cheeks and blend out the dark circles, but there was no denying it: she looked awful. 
Emily almost fell asleep twice in the fifteen minutes it took for her to get to the BAU and she was starting to wonder if her decision to come to work had been a bad one. No, she was just doing what she needed to do. She was going to work, part of daily life. No damn cold would take her out of the game. She was a Prentiss and Prentiss’s don’t show weakness. 
She stumbled into the BAU five minutes late (she had somehow forgotten how to get there halfway through the drive) and ran straight into Garcia. The tech analyst squeaked as her files spilled onto the floor and she dropped to the ground, scurrying to pick them up. Emily tried to make herself do the same, but her body just wasn’t replying to her brain's commands. 
The brunette simply watched as her friend collected the papers, struggling to get her limbs to respond. When Penelope stood back up, her hair a bit out of place she frowned deeply and reached out to touch Emily’s cheek. The profiler managed to take a step away before the hand could connect and forced her political smile onto her lips. 
“Oh my love, you don’t look so good.” She said, her voice full of concern. 
“M’fine Pen. Didn’t get any sleep last night.” The brunette chuckled, trying to ignore the slight congestion littering her voice. Plus, she wasn’t lying. The persistent cough and aches in her bones had kept her up for most of the night. 
“Okay, but that really doesn’t explain the scarf, Em. We’re barely into October, it's not that cold yet.” She pressed, not willing to let her concern go. Garcia could tell that her friend wasn’t feeling well, not only was it obvious, but she also had sort of a sixth sense for telling what was wrong with the people she loved. 
“Drop it, Garcia.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. It felt like there were fire ants crawling over her skin and she was regretting the extra cold medicine. Her mind was already fuzzy with fever and the medication wasn’t helping. 
The blonde took her shoulders, eyes flooded with worry. It was that look that told Emily that she wasn’t going to win this one, not with Penelope anyway. 
“I took DayQuil. It’s just a cold.” Emily murmured, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. She sniffled heavily and aimed a sneeze into her elbow which certainly didn’t help her case. The sneeze sounded sickly and didn’t give her any relief from the congestion, in fact, it just made it worse. 
“That is not just a cold. You need-”
“Garcia! We can’t start without you to present!” Hotch snapped, yelling across the bullpen. His glare was full of impatience, and he sounded as though he would rip them in two if they didn’t hurry. Emily started forward but leaned heavily against a desk, a wave of dizziness crashing over her. 
“You are so going home.” The blonde grumbled, taking Emily’s wrist. The exhausted woman didn’t protest, no one could see them anyway it didn’t matter. Plus, Garcia was keeping her balanced. 
Emily found herself being dragged into the round table room, the tech analyst only dropping her arm when she knew that they would be seen. Hotch was staring at his watch impatiently, but his expression turned to one of mild concern when he saw his shivering profiler. 
“Jeez Em, you look like shit.” Morgan commented, wrinkling his nose in a playful way. 
“Bite me.” she said in return, plopping down in a chair as far away from him as possible. She pulled the chair close to the table and wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to conserve heat. Reid gave her a sideways glance and scooched away, probably worried about the germs. Emily really couldn’t blame him; she was probably a germ fountain. 
“Prentiss, why are you here?” Hotch questioned, sounding genuinely appalled. He had a strict policy when it came to working while sick: you couldn’t. It put everyone involved in danger and he was sure to remind them all of that every flu season. His agents never listened to him, and it always turned into a lecture in which he could usually get them to leave. 
“I work here Hotch. You hired me. Well, you didn’t fire me.” she replied, as sarcastic as ever. Her boss raised his eyebrow, slightly astonished that she was being so argumentative. He sighed as he studied her appearance, taking in the excess makeup and slight shivering. 
“Go home, come back when you’ve been fever free for 24 hours. Garcia, present.” He dismissed her so quickly that Emily wasn’t quite sure that it had happened. The brunette stiffened at the comment, her resolve hardening. She would not go home over this shit, it was a head cold, not the plague. 
“No. There’s a case, it is my job to work cases and catch killers. I don’t see you bowing out over a sore throat and the sniffles.” She snapped back, leaning forward in challenge. The two stared at each other for about fifteen seconds, before Hotch backed off, rolling his eyes in frustration. 
“Fine. Penelope, go.” 
All Emily could really say about the case was that there was someone in Seattle Washington stealing eyeballs, cutting off ears and noses and dumping bodies in the ocean. She didn’t know what the deal was with facial features, but he seemed to hate them. 
“Dehumanizing his victims?” she asked, feeling the need to add her input. He definitely wouldn’t let her stay if she was useless to the team, she had to provide some sort of use. Reid nodded his agreement and gave her another little glance. 
“Or maybe a fetish. There are no other wounds on the body, just the face. Do they know what he poisoned them with?”
“I don’t think we can assume the killer was a male yet, there were no signs of sexual assault and poisoning is most typically done women. The disfigurement of the face could be linked to jealousy, it would go with the dehumanization aspect.” JJ added, cutting Garcia off before she could answer. 
“Sorry Pen, go ahead.” She apologized, quickly realizing what she had done. The perky blonde flashed her a smile and shook her head. 
“Not to worry, sugarplum. It seems that the Unsub is using Arsenic as their poison of choice. Any other questions, my dears?” Penelope was great at acting cheerful while showing them awful images. It was probably because she never faced the screen. 
“That’s all. Wheels up in thirty. Prentiss, stay back for a moment.” Hotch ordered, watching as they all hurried out. No one wanted to see the conversation between the two of them. 
Emily stood and faced him, arms crossed in front of her. She was standing in an almost fighting stance, trying to look slightly intimidating. It was hard to take her seriously with the runny nose and tired eyes. If Hotch was being honest with himself, he truly wanted to take her home and ensure that she rested. He truly cared about his team; their wellbeing was incredibly important to him. 
“Look Prentiss, I won’t make you stay behind, but only because we need all hands-on deck for this one. In any other situation, you would be suspended for this disobedience. Understand?” He asked, matching her stance. Part of her wanted to argue, but she really couldn’t think of a reason for it. It was just her stubborn streak and her fever clouded mind. 
“Understood. May I go sir?” She swiped her fist across her drippy nose and waited for the sharp nod that meant she could stumble back to her desk and lean for a few seconds while she pretended to rifle through her go-bag. 
She sagged against her desk and took a wheezy breath, wondering why the stupid medicine wasn’t working. The brunette let herself sit there for a few seconds then steeled herself against the dizziness, preparing for what was sure to be a long week. 
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thenessa · 2 months
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Haven’t really been knittingposting much so here’s some projects (one FO plus the stuff that’s actually getting knitted on, we won’t look at the stuff that needs miscellaneous other things).
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That is a 8ft9in (267ish cm?) scarf, in mistake rib, that is DONE. I’ve been working on it (among other things) since September 2021, haha. It’s that long because the recipient is tall and wanted a proper wrap-around capable scarf. And it’s in an alpaca-wool blend that uses alpaca from some farms a town over!
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These three are active:
- a sweater that’s based on the Ombrella pattern (by yarnflakes) but using some of the cables from the Ponderosa Sweater (by wool and pine) plus some staghorn cables. I think I’ve just finished a sleeve but I need to try it on again and reconsider, since it’s kind of loose in the upper arm in a way I’m not sure how I feel about. I’m using Holst Supersoft held with a brushed alpaca that I forget the name of, and it’s making *such* a nice fabric.
- a cardigan for spouse, mostly following the Hidden Light pattern but I’m going to mod the collar because according to other people’s project notes it sucks, lol. Also I already found an error in the stitch counts so that’s.. fun? This is Plymouth Homestead yarn and it’s been nice to work with.
- sweater surgery wheee: I’ve never really liked the neckline on this top (the pattern is perfectly fine, the rest of the fit is great, I’m just nitpicky and it requires negative ease in a particular spot to be the shape it’s meant to be, and it just.. isn’t). So I’ve unpicked a row, ripped back the top part that contains the neckline, mathed out how to get a v-neck between the starting and ending stitch counts, and am almost done knitting that part. After which I’ll have a really long graft.. pray for my soul. It’ll be so great once it’s done, lol.
I’ve also ripped out a different sweater that wasn’t going to fit right because of… my own damn gauge, that I knew was off, and then just.. didn’t compensate for? I know better but here we are. Oh well. Will make something else with that yarn, but probably a couple of other things are further up the queue.
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magicalgirlmascot · 11 months
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May or may not have been inspired to create the KNPS Toa in Hero Forge. Probably also gonna do the Turaga. I’m def curious as to your thoughts on everyone’s appearances, wanna see how what I have so far compares.
I am in TEARS please please please show me when you're done!!!
I've been kind of deliberately vague about their appearances in the fic itself because last time I wrote a big long human!Bionicle fic where I was more specific about their appearances I. wound up hating it later lol. I will say though that my Bionicle Sports Anime designs aren't necessarily what I have in mind when writing! (Those are mostly just for drawing Bionicle fanart without having to draw robots and possible eventual comic reasons.)
I do have some stuff in mind, though! I'm putting it under a readmore because it wound up getting fairly long lol
Tahu: redhead, toned and fairly beefy on account of the MMA but not like dehydrated about it, jeans, t-shirts, and button-downs with the sleeves rolled up kinda guy
Kopaka: my brother thinks he should be albino but I'm on the fence there, either way he does have blue eyes and light hair cut pretty short, glasses, tall and thin
Gali: petite, curly hair usually pulled back from her face, wears a lot of long, flowy clothes (cardigans, skirts, etc.)
Onua: short af, fat, muscular, hairy, I've made Gimli jokes before but I honestly do picture him looking like Senshi DungeonMeshi with less beard, almost exclusively wears black jeans, glasses are not prescription but to help with his light sensitivity
Pohatu: tall, runner's build (muscular legs, kind of average weight distribution tbh), thick brown hair that he's been growing out, tends towards muted colours and earth tones
Lewa: fucking beanpole, tall, thin, and gangly, hair is a bird's nest 99% of the time and he has given up trying, wears green almost to the complete exclusion of other colours, loves himself some good cargo pants
Vakama: glasses and tidy beard, greying hair, middling height, wears a lot of old man sweaters/cardigans
Nokama: taller than Matau but shorter than Vakama, hair is going grey but she dyes it, carries herself with grace and poise, it's. I do picture Lucretia Adventurezone a little bit while writing her ngl
Matau: short!!! absolute manlet and either mad about it or chill with it depending on which is funnier in context, wears loud shirts
Onewa: was not a cane user at the start of the story but is one now on account of his bad back, growing his beard out, worst case of resting bitch face you've ever seen, decently tall
Whenua: tallest Turaga, thick glasses, has worn a dress shirt and tie to work every day for the last 20+ years and isn't going to stop now even if his husband makes fun of him for it >:(
Nuju: average height, long fingers, went white by age 35 (claims it's from stress but it just runs in the family, Kualus was also fully white by 35 and Matoro probably will be too), dresses nicely but not a full shirt and tie like some people
Also you didn't mention them but bonus characters bc I've been thinking about them:
Takua: built like Lewa (tall and gangling), dyes his hair blue, fashion choices are "the colours gave me a headache so I bought it immediately"
Jaller: short king, blonde, probably the most athletic kid in the class
Hahli: shorter than Takua but still pretty tall, wears jeans and sturdy clothes, solidly built
Krahka: I mean sometimes she's a fox and sometimes she's got six arms and tits the size of her head, she can look however she wants
Again please please show me when you're done!!!! I would like to see it
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threadsun · 1 year
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Content: reference to cheating, crying, non-sexual sex work (sad gfe video), idk if it counts as stalking but Ian is an anonymous client of his ex, sad voicemail, Ian x nb!OC, implication of polyamoury
I have a shit memory so if I got the year of the dance wrong, no I didn't
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“Hey…” Zander stands in the doorway, hands pulled into the sleeves of his sweater. “Long time no see, huh?”
He waits, as if for an answer. But none comes. He smiles shakily, gnawing at his lower lip as his fingers tease over the cable knit wrist.
“I uh… I’ve missed you. A lot.” He finally manages to rasp out, voice hoarse and throat aching with tears longing to be shed. “More than I can say, really. More than… more than you can imagine. I know it’s been a while. I know I haven’t… I haven’t been here, really. For you. I should’ve picked up the phone. I should’ve– should’ve called. Texted. Left a message. Something.”
His eyes prickle with tears, throat tightening with every word. It's true. He should have called. Answered. Listened. Done more somehow. He blinks back tears, eyes refocusing. Right, he’d been speaking. He's meant to be saying more.
“I guess I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to tell you I still love you. I–I do. Still love you. I love us. I love what we were. What we could be. I love who I am when I’m with you. I love who–” his words catch in his throat, tears tracking eyeliner down his cheeks. “I love who you see when you look at me. I want to be them. I want to be that person who was so happy. Who was so in love. With you! Not just with anyone… With you.”
He swipes at the tears with his sleeve, sniffling softly. “Even after all this. After everything. It’s you that I want. It’s only ever been you.” And Nik, but he can't say that. Not right now. “I wanted that future we always talked about. The white wedding, the family, the love… I still want that.”
His gaze is earnest, loving, raw. “I love you. Ian…” It's more a breath than a name, barely audible. Zander doesn't even notice it slip out. “I love you.”
Zander holds the gaze for a moment longer before reaching out to stop the recording. She brushes away the remaining tears, trying to tell herself that she's just a very good actor.
Her nail tap at his screen as he considers watching the video back. Quality control, and all that. But she can't bring herself to. Her chest feels like there's a hole in it, leaking the air from her lungs in a cold vapour. She closes the video and sends it off to his client, along with a cheery little message thanking him for the request.
VDay98, a frequent client with some… interesting tastes. He's sweet enough, and generous as well. And a constant viewer of Z’s streams. The name always makes their heart flip a bit. Valentines Day of ‘98. When they and Nik had asked Ian out for the first time… That silly school dance.
She sees reminders of Ian everywhere, hard as she tries not to. Day is probably just the guy’s last name. And 98 is much more likely to be the year he was born than anything. Some rich younger guy who's lonely and likes the Authentic Girlfriend Experience™ that Kitty provides for the right price.
But it doesn't stop the image of Ian’s smile that day, in his ill-fitting suit as he fumbled with a corsage for each of them, from entering his mind every time.
They begin to pack away their equipment. That had been their last custom of the day. He can hear Jack and Nik chatting happily in the kitchen, the smell of dinner cooking bringing a slightly subdued smile to Z’s lips.
He is happy like this. Without Ian. With Nik and Jack and Bast and Pop, their own little family. He can't let the nostalgia wear him down. He can't let Nik make the same mistake twice.
It feels almost trance-like as it folds away its outfits, tossing some in the laundry basket and putting others back in their drawers. It cleans each toy it used methodically, then arranges them back on their shelves.
He's procrastinating. Wanting to sit with this sadness for a bit before he has to go back to pretending he hates Ian. Before he has to interact with the interminably cheerful Jack. Before he has to gather the social energy to be around anyone.
They set their LED lights back to green, turning off the main lights for a moment to check that the glow was the right intensity and shade for their next stream. It was going to be a night stream, all darkness and neon colours to give an air of mystery.
The room lights up with a blue glow, his phone buzzing from the bed. His heart drops, blood chilling in his veins. He knows who it is before he even sees the name.
He grabs his phone and slumps down in front of the bed, staring at Ian’s smiling picture as the phone continues to buzz. It rings off after a few more buzzes, and there's silence for a bit as the phone screen goes dark again.
The minutes tick by painfully slowly before there's a single little buzz. A voicemail. Zander stares at the notification silently, trying to will itself to have the strength not to listen. But… it isn't strong. Not right now.
There's a beep before that familiar soft, shaky voice begins to speak. “H-hey… I know it’s late. And… and you’re probably busy working… o-or something! Something… else. I don’t kn-know what you’re doing nowadays. Because we… we haven’t talked in so long. I mean, I’ve talked plenty but you… I get it, you don’t want to talk. And you don’t have to. I don’t… I don’t deserve your words. Or… or your kindness. Or anything from you, really. I know that.”
Zander swallows thickly, pressing its forehead to the edge of its phone and closing its eyes as it listens to Ian’s agitated ramblings. “You don’t… owe me anything. Your… your time, or your energy, or your words. But… I miss the sound of your voice. I miss…” His voice cracks.
“I miss the way you say my name. I keep… I keep thinking I hear it everywhere. That you’re there, saying my name. That you want to talk to me. I-I think I’m going crazy without you. Without both of you. And I know it’s my fault. I know I'm the one who fucked everything up. And I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry every single day."
"I just… I just want to talk. To you. Please, p-please. I need to talk to you. I need to explain. N-no, not… not explain. That's-that's not what I meant. There's… I know there's nothing to explain. N-nothing I can say to make this right. Nothing I can do to… to change what I did. But…but I p-promise. I promise, I regretted it the moment I–"
There's a pause. A choked breath. He can't force the words out. Zander listens to the uneven breathing coming through the phone as the voicemail continues to play. Finally, Ian's voice comes through once more. Pained, broken, desperate. "E-Even after all this. After everything. It’s you that I want. It’s only ever been you."
The voicemail beeps once more as the message ends, and Zander finds itself surrounded by silence once more. It hadn't noticed the tears, the held breath, the shaking hands. Not until it had nothing left to focus on. To ground itself.
It isn't sure how long it was adrift for. Floating aimlessly in its own head. But when it manages to return to earth, it pushes all thoughts aside and focuses on getting itself ready to face Nik and Jack.
He tucks his phone away and creeps to the bathroom, washing his face with warm water to soothe his swollen eyes. He takes a moment to freshen up before putting on a smile. Nik will see through it. They always do. And Jack's learning too. But this is one secret Zander has to keep. For Nik's sake. They can never know just how much he still loves Ian. How much he always will.
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boarix · 1 year
Text
Epilogue
Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XXV
Trigger Warnings: suggestive content
Please enjoy!
…..
“Should I put on a sweater, grandma? Are you cold?”
“Do you have one, smart guy?”
The trip to Dalton Farm originally was meant to be a honeymoon for Wraith and Hancock, but had turned into something of a family vacation instead. Danse, Curie, Hancock, Shaun, Duncan and Preston had been fishing in the relatively sheltered bay of the settlement for several days in a row, and although it was late spring, the winds off the sea were still brisk.
Shaun had come in to the main house with Hancock in tow to show off the large – and for Wraith unidentifiable – fish he had caught, “All by myself!”
“You should have long sleeves and a hat anyway, young man. You do know you can still get sunburned, right?”
Shaun rolled his eyes came to Wraith and kissed her cheek but then ran out the door to the beach, “Sorry, I can’t hear you; I’m too far away.”
Hancock chuckled and stooped to give her a long, lingering kiss before he followed the child out to the water.
Wraith sighed, “You know he’s getting that sass from you, right?”
MacCready was lounging on an over-stuffed loveseat and had Dogmeat sprawled across his lap. Having no interest in fish – neither in catching or eating – he had spent his time sitting with Wraith, relaxing and reading the stack of books Hancock had given him. When Wraith came over to scold him, he reached up and gently pulled her down to sit next to him. He laughed at her, “No way. He gets it from being a teenager.” He laughed again when she huffed at him, “You know; if they’re all out on the boats all day, there’s plenty of privacy and time for activates in here.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Hey, you’re right. There is a ton of fish-smelly laundry to do.”
“Ugh, make Deacon do it. Where’s he been anyway?”  
It had taken months to set to right the damage to the various settlements that Infamy and Radiance had done; partially due to the overall reduction of citizenry.
It also took months to set Wraith to right. Curie and Sturges had to completely rebuild Wraith’s left shoulder again and this time, create an arm that attached to it. Wraith also had permanent scars on her forehead and face where the alien artifact had tried to burn her away from it.
Infamy made good on their promise to return to the Capital Wasteland, and surprisingly, took the rest of the Children of Atom with them.
“Isolde will never recover from this. Even I am changed. Probably not for the better, though. Ha!”      
It had been a year after Radiance’s defeat and the artifact’s destruction before Wraith had finally agreed to have the big wedding Hancock had asked for. Nick Valentine walked Wraith down the aisle, but rather than a traditional wedding dress, she wore a pale ice-blue blouse and cigarette pant suit that Shaun had made her. The Juliet sleeves of which had hand-made buttons modeled after the Minutemen insignia at the wrists. Hancock had set his red coat aside and paired his tricorn with a slate suit that somehow was able to make him look even more rakishly handsome then on an average day.
The reception took place in Sanctuary, was immense, and lasted almost a week. It was also a much needed stress release for the Commonwealth. Wraith had looked for Deacon – she hadn’t seen him for almost a year – but of course, didn’t see him at the party.
A few evenings after, as Wraith was packing for the trip to Far Harbor, she left her house and walked to the warehouse on the north side of the settlement. Focused and moving quickly, she almost missed seeing a light shining through the trees from the general direction of the vault. In typical Wraith fashion she decided to check it out by herself.
Without telling anyone.
A lantern shone in the window of the work trailer just off to the side of elevator to the vault, and she poked her head inside, smiling hopefully, “Deacon, are you in here?”
“Nope, right behind you.”
“Oh, I see the beard is back. Been to the Capital?” Suddenly awkward, she half raised her arms as if she was going to hug him then changed her mind and fussed with her hair instead.
“I see your hair is back. Enjoying retirement?”
“Sort of; I still help Preston from time to time, but nothing too crazy.” Feeling like the silence was stretching on for too long she suddenly blurted, “I got married.”
A smile spread across the spy’s face and he moved forward and wrapped her in a hug, “I know, Pippa. Congratulations.”
Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his shoulder, “Is this hug my only present?”
“It definitely is.”
.....
Thank you so much for sharing in this adventure with me.
Want to start from the beginning? Please see the Wraith in the Ruins chapter link tree =^..^=
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kakyoinmybro · 12 days
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I've been sick for almost a week, but I am better now and very inspired from days of rest, I havent been able to do an art, but I have been working on a crochet sweater based off of my DnD/Bg3 character, I am working on the sleeves right now and almost done. I will take a picture of it when im done!
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