#it’s also a fuzzier fabric

[tj-crochets]

Things I should be doing: finishing detective-izing the monkey or doing the ironing for the second quilt for the twins

What I’m doing instead: impulse making a purple bunny

[pathologicalreid]

not that kind of movie | S.R.

movie night takes an interesting turn - for the better, definitely

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: the movie in question is metropolis, fingering, soft dom!spencer, i really don't know that there's anything else, kissing, they probably fucked after this, very slightly proofread, if this is incoherent let's just pretend it is. word count: 1.45k a/n: just a fun little fic i typed out tonight. also chip taylor gif spotted. i'm so tired i have nothing else to say for myself.

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, you were struggling to keep your eyes open during the movie.

As a result of a very intense rock, paper, scissors game, Spencer had been the one to choose the movie that you watched tonight. The movie he had chosen just so happened to be in a foreign language – German – that your boyfriend was attempting to learn. Your lack of German comprehension combined with the black-and-white film put you in a rough spot, you were in serious danger of falling asleep on the couch.

Spencer wouldn’t hold it against you if you did happen to drift off, but it felt rude. He never fell asleep during any of your film selections, and just because you didn’t understand the content didn’t mean you couldn’t respect the cinematography of the old-timey dystopian. “Are you falling asleep?” He whispered, adjusting the blanket that had been tossed over the two of you so that you were fully covered.

Shaking your head stubbornly, “No, ‘m watching the movie,” you insisted, prying your eyes open to focus on the screen in front of you and trying to figure out who was Freder and who was Joh.

“Good, keep watching,” Spencer said softly before pulling at your legs, leaving them draped across his lap as his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked over at you and in the dark of the living room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the flush of your cheeks. “Watch the movie,” he murmured, moving to trail his fingers up your thigh.

Your breathing hitched as his hand stopped, and as he started to massage the inner part of your thigh, you let your head fall to the side. “You’re distracting me,” you protested, smiling despite yourself while his fingers moved closer and closer to your core.

He hummed in response, “I thought this could help you stay awake,” he offered knowingly.

“Can’t hurt to try,” you concurred happily, extremely content with the turn of events that your movie night had taken – even if Metropolis wasn’t that kind of movie. You sighed as Spencer’s fingers deftly nudged your shorts to the side, using his hand to rub you over the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

In your periphery, you watched Spencer turn his attention back to the movie, his lips moving as his brain translated the words as they came from the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at the television, your brain was fuzzier than ever, but at least now you were enjoying yourself, “Spence,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

To your chagrin, his movements slowed, “Shh, watch the movie,” he told you, “You have to pay attention, or I’ll stop.”

You groaned before turning your head, watching the fuzzy black and white screen as robots started to take over and you realized you had no idea what the plot of this film was, “Please don’t stop,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers pushed your panties off to the side. You considered offering to take your shorts and underwear off, but you were too afraid of him stopping to even bring it up.

The volume of the movie was barely loud enough to cover up the soft, breathy noises that came from you as Spencer trailed his index finger up your slit before settling his hand on you, the elastic of your panties keeping his hand close as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You bit your lip to keep quiet as he started to move his thumb in slow, tantalizing circles, a small chuckle coming from him as your hips bucked up involuntarily, “Poor baby,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, trying to keep from closing your eyes and just focusing on the pleasure you were receiving. “More,” you beckoned, taking a chance and flickering your eyes over to where he was sitting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was simply enraptured with the film instead of having some sort of anti-staring contest while playing with you on the couch.

Not making any move to change what he was doing, Spencer seemingly ignored you, “You’ll get there, angel. I’ll let you come in a bit.”

With the promise of an orgasm in your near future, you decided you could toughen out the remainder of the film. This would be true if he would do anything but drag his thumb in annoyingly slow circles around your clit.

Resigning yourself to another thirty minutes of torture, you focused back on the screen, where you had definitely missed an important plot point. You had no idea when they ended up underground, “Ah!” You said, clamping your hand over your mouth as Spencer had decided to slip his index finger inside of your cunt, “Fuck, Spence,” you said, voice muffled by your own palm.

“Uncover your mouth,” Spencer told you, too far away to move your hand on his own, “I like to listen to you.”

His words sent your stomach into a flurry of somersaults, only spurred on by the calculated movements of his finger as it slipped deeper into you, knuckle by knuckle, until your warm walls wholly enclosed his finger. “Jesus,” you breathed, moaning as his hand moved, slipping his digit in and out of you with ease.

A strained breath from your boyfriend told you that he was having a hard time holding himself back, but at some point, he had dedicated himself to dragging this out. “You’re doing so well, just keep watching,” he appeased, “the movie’s almost over.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed him until he sunk his finger back into you, using his fingertip to swirl around your inner walls, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mm,” you whined, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He asked knowingly, “You like letting me touch you on the couch? All splayed out and pretty for me?”

Not that you’d ever admit this to him, but you sometimes thought he could make you come just from his words alone. Of course, that information would not be used to your benefit, “Yes,” you answered, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed, “Yeah, baby.”

Spencer hummed and your breath caught in your throat as a second finger slipped inside of you, joining the other one in its crusade to bring you to an orgasm, “That was a good answer.” His words did nothing to slow your racing heart, any thought of the movie was a distant memory as all it did was provide a slight glow around the living room.

Afraid of finishing before the conclusion, you reached down and grabbed Spencer’s wrist as his fingers continued their taunting rhythm, but it felt so good, and he was taking such good care of you, that you couldn’t stop his ministrations.  

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked making note of the way your hand gripped his wrist, continuing his movements when you assured him you were okay, “Oh,” he murmured, voice dripping in mock pity, “Do you wanna come?”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, writhing on the couch as you mumbled an affirmation and gasping when his thumb returned to its home on your clit, resuming the slow circles from before and slowly driving you toward insanity as your orgasm built in your lower belly, “Spence, ‘m gonna…” your voice trailed off as he continued to touch you, the volume of the film rising with your moans.

Not allowing his movements to falter, Spencer focused more of his energy on you, “You can come, baby. It’s alright,” he said, watching you fall apart on his fingers as he rambled on, “There you go, honey.” His fingers slowed to a stop as you caught your breath, just for it to hitch again as his fingers withdrew from your wet heat.

As the world came back into tune, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and looked at the now black screen. Humming, you shifted over to Spencer, settling yourself in his lap, one knee on each side of him, you tilted your head to the side and smiled at him.

“Did you like the movie?” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving back.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw line, “One of my favorites,” you murmured against the soft skin of his neck.

Spencer laughed softly at your answer, “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

Grinning in the dark, you moved your lips up to his ear, “The end.”

[utahimeow]

ooo for the character + kink thing

tobio and dry humping (is that a kink? idk but here's what I ask you to consider: my kink is men being so desperate to have you that they don't need to be inside you to cum)

cw — nsfw content minors dni. smut, fluff, f!reader, slight intoxication, dry humping

tobio’s always been a little smitten with you. not that he’d ever be able to tell you– although, with the alcohol making his head a little fuzzier than normal, the timidness that constantly weighs on his shoulders feels a little lighter.

you’re sat next to him on your couch, giggling to yourself, courtesy of the one glass of wine too many you’d had. tobio wasn’t supposed to be drinking, what with his strict pro-athlete diet and all, but something about you made it hard for him to say. all it takes is the flutter of your eyelashes and he’s a goner.

you turn to him, all dazed, eyes twinkling. “you’re pretty, tobi.”

it’s true. he’s one of the prettiest boys you’ve ever seen.

his cheeks turn red and it’s not from the wine. “you’re prettier.”

“no, you are.”

he runs a hand over his face, chuckling and oh, he’s so cruel.

“you’re being gross,” he says, but his grin gives him away.

“i’ll shut up if you kiss me.”

he blinks at you. his grin fades, but it’s only replaced with an expression of pure wonder. he thinks he’s dreaming– his ears must be tricking him, right? maybe not–

you’re leaning towards him. suddenly tobio is completely sober, and when your lips meet his he swear his soul leaves his body. it takes him a moment to kiss you back, his heart beating out of his chest, and then another moment passes and his tongue is lapping into your mouth and you’re in his lap.

a moan slips out of your throat before you can help it. you pull away, a sudden timidness creeping up your spine, made worse by the string of spit that connects your mouth with the boy’s. you open your mouth to apologise, only to be cut off by tobio’s kiss once more.

giant hands trace along your shoulders, then down your back, sending goosebumps over your entire body. at last they settle on your hips, pressing you closer to him, and that’s when you feel it– his erection straining against his jeans, poking at your thighs.

in an instant, your hips, with a mind of their own, begin to move. it’s gentle at first, a slow rocking back and forth against his crotch.

when they pick up their pace a little however, when you start to fall into a (sloppy) rhythm, tobio’s breath hitches in his throat. his hands travel under your shirt, desperate for his fingers to sink into flesh not fabric.

your lips, swollen and slick with spit, move down tobio’s jaw, hungry for the taste of his neck.

“oh, f-fuck,” he breathes as your teeth nip at his skin and your tongue swirls over the mark, all while your clothed cunt grinds against his restricted cock. he’s even more lightheaded than before, the pleasure melting his brain more and more with every roll of your hips.

his head falls against the back of the couch, letting you rut into his lap as his eyes fall shut and his mouth drops. there’s electricity in his veins– everything feels intensified, not just from the alcohol but from the fact that it’s you. you, who tobio thinks of when his hand pumps at his cock and who he imagines holding late at night and playing with your hair until you fall asleep and who he wants so badly to kiss all the time whenever he wants.

he has you now. and it’s better than he could have ever imagined.

just the thought is enough to send him over the edge. he spills into his boxers in hot, white spurts, his hips twitching and jerking into yours as he sighs out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

he gazes at you, eyes fuzzy and half-lidded and filled with an affection unlike anything you’ve seen from him, and he also looks so cute that you can’t resist kissing him.

“th-thank you,” he whispers, his breath still ragged.

you giggle once more, amazed at how his politeness remains even after you’ve made him cum in his pants.

“you’re too cute, tobi,” you say with a peck to his lips.

“and you’re pretty.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Whatever Stevie Wants 3

Part 2

The resort of course had plenty of masseuses on hand and Steve spent at least an hour letting himself get massaged from his scalp all the way down to the tips of his toes. When he was finished, his brain was a syrupy puddle. Luckily he had mates that allowed him to stay afloat without completely drifting away. 

Eddie was in bed, reading a book and Steve snuggled up close, head in his lap. Everything felt so warm and soft, like a less intense version of a heat. And it made him needy. Clingy. Eddie started to stroke his hair and that made Steve’s brain fuzzier. He swallowed thickly and could tell he needed something, he just didn’t know what.

It wasn’t until he started nuzzling Eddie’s groin that he understood what he wanted, what he needed. Eddie had known before Steve did, but waited until his omega was mouthing at his cock, whining for more before taking it out. 

“You gonna be okay while I finish this chapter?”, Eddie asked.

“Mhm”, Steve nodded. “Just need to feel it.” He licked his lips.

Eddie resumed stroking his hair and even started to read aloud, knowing how his voice soothed his mate. Steve started with the head, slowly making his way down until his mouth was comfortably full. His eyes closed, sometimes humming in contentment, thinking how lucky he was to have an alpha to take such good care of him.

----------------------------

The beach was nice, but Steve was glad for the pool on days he didn’t want to deal with sand. Today was such a day where he wanted nothing more than to sunbathe on a lounge chair, dipping into the water whenever he got a little too warm. He always had a drink on standby too.

In contrast, Eddie stayed on a couch under an umbrella. If he was in the sun for too long, he turned into a crab.

He was currently occupying himself with a notebook and pencil. Steve couldn’t tell if he was working on a song or a new DnD campaign. He could have just as easily been making some other sort of to-do list. Give Eddie a writing utensil and he could be writing anything.

Steve stepped out of the pool, knowing his alpha’s eyes were on him, as they were every time he had come out of the water. Today Steve had traded the swim trunks for a swim thong. He grabbed his drink and sipped as he walked over to where Eddie was, completely shaded. When Steve sat by his side, Eddie put an arm around him.

“Where are the others?”, Steve asked.

“Grant’s painting on the beach, Jeff’s getting a massage, Gareth’s on a video call home in the room.” As he spoke, his fingers moved down Steve’s spine and went right to his cunt, just barely covered by the thin strip of fabric.

Steve squirmed a little, trying not to spill his drink. “Daddy”, he whispered.

“Wanna be close to you”, Eddie murmured against his ear. “It’s been too long.”

Too long meant more than twenty four hours apparently. Because it was just yesterday morning that he ate Steve out to the point of tears. Eddie’s fingers were incessant, moving his thong to the side so that he could touch the bare skin underneath. Eddie sighed as he felt the warmth there in contrast to how cool the rest of his skin was from the water.

“You can be as close as you want”, Steve said, kissing his cheek.

“You’ve gotten pretty bold, sweet thing.”

“Hm, we’re not the only ones who can’t keep our hands off each other”, Steve jutted his chin towards the other end of the pool.

They were the only other patrons, and too far to hear what they might’ve been saying, but they were also under a shaded area. A female alpha with a very fetching omega in her lap. A beach towel protected their modesty but if anyone watched for more than five seconds, it was clear what they were doing.

“I wanna be close to you too”, Steve whispered. “Let me just hold it, Daddy.”

Eddie had already pushed a finger inside but Steve needed more. He reached over, across Eddie, to put his drink on the stand next to them. He got into Eddie’s lap, pulling his own towel over himself. Eddie looked up at him, nearly reverent as he took his cock out. Steve pulled his gusset to the side, feeling warm at how enraptured Eddie looked, like it was the first time he was seeing just a glimpse of his pussy.

Carefully, Steve sank down on him, letting out a soft moan when he felt his alpha’s balls against his cunt. Of course that was the moment Eddie’s phone began to ring. He groaned a little from the squeeze around him and from annoyance. But he answered anyway.

“I know I told my manager that I’m not to be contacted right now. And I do believe she let the media know.”

Steve kissed his jaw, then his neck. His alpha always smelled so nice, even when he was slightly irritated. But Steve could make him smell better. Eddie breathed deep through his nose.

“You call me on vacation when I explicitly went on a media break and you have the audacity to hound me about pictures of my pups.”

Steve growled. They had made certain that the girls didn’t end up in any magazines or online articles. None of them wanted their pups being harassed by the media before they were even old enough to comprehend it. The fans had been pretty respectful of it. But of course, the machine only wanted as much gossip as it could get.

Steve listened as Eddie dressed down whoever was on the other line, some worm that considered themselves a reporter. He purred in approval, feeling himself get more wet and unable to stop himself from grinding slowly against him.

Good alpha, great alpha, protects our pack, protects our pups, perfect mate, give him more, more pups.

Eddie let out a whine from the back of his throat that he cut off when he remembered he was still on the phone. “Thought you just wanted to hold it, sweetheart?”

“Need more”, Steve mumbled into his skin. He nibbled at his neck, moving up and down it, leaving hickeys down the column. 

Eddie bit his lip as he grabbed the front of Steve’s thong. It certainly had him thinking that he needed to buy his baby more panties. He pulled upward, making it rub and squeeze against Steve’s clit as he undulated slowly. Eddie hung up before Steve could give the interloper any more of a show with his vocals.

He did, however, record a little just to tease the boys with later.

Part 4

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Quick question about a quick quilt...

I can finish a lap size rag quilt in less than a week, twin size in about a week, queen size in two weeks. It's three layers of fabric, quilt-as-you-go, minimal piecing, and they are heavy. Excellent for cold weather and folks who like the weight of blankets but not weighted blankets.* These quilts aren't as hot as layers of fabric plus beads/pellets, and they breathe much more effectively. For a heavier rag quilt, it's a layer of denim and two layers of quilting cotton or flannel. I have a rag quilt for myself that's three layers of quilting cotton. My house is drafty and winters are full of rain, which means the cold sinks into your bones with the humidity. My husband keeps stealing my quilt because his man-cave is the coldest room in the house. He doesn't care that it's very feminine colors "because it's warm."

As for why it's called a rag quilt, here's a sample:

The top is the fluffy side with the exposed seams. Instead of a quarter inch seam allowance the seams under the fabric, it's a one inch seam allowance and the seams are exposed. Said seams are then cut at one inch intervals. With every washing, the seams get fuzzier and softer. They're fun to touch and feel really nice. It's also why these must be dried ALONE or all the strings will end up on whatever else is in the dryer. Three layers of fabric also means two rounds in the dryer on high heat (which is why I like using flannel rather than quilting cotton) or one round of high heat and hanging to dry for a couple hours.

The back looks like a more traditional quilt top and is often the side with denim on it if denim is used. The one is three layers of flannel and was a giveaway prize earlier this year, to celebrate meeting a ko-fi goal.

These are a delight to make and excellent for cold winters and drafty homes. Did I mention they're pretty heavy? The one I have, once all folded up, weighs about six pounds, and knocks my husband out within about ten minutes of him laying over himself. It's why I plan on making a rag quilt for him. He keeps stealing mine.

For context regarding prices, these take significantly less time to make. This one, a lap size, took just 14.5 hours, and that included the quilting. A traditional style baby quilt starts at $2125 because I have a lot more cutting and sewing, and I do the quilting by hand (though it will soon change due to soon having a machine I can use on my Cutie frame and do all my quilting on it), and can take 70-80 hours start to finish. I charge $27/hour + cost of materials to come to the final price.

*A PT I know hates weighted blankets because they cause a lot of injuries. People rolling in bed with a weighted blanket on them have ended up in physical therapy because of soft tissue tears. Most especially dangerous for people with EDS and other connective tissue conditions. Other injuries they've seen are from the pockets with the beads/pellets in them tearing open. Pets and small children have been known to choke on those, and folks who are heavy sleepers can also be injured if the pockets near their face tear in their sleep. When the beads/pellets get all over the floor, people fall and end up with serious injuries from that. Not to mention overheating under all of them because the material doesn't breathe well.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

On a Technicality Part 2

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: implied/referenced abuse, starvation, touch-starvation

Pairings: intrulogical

Word Count: 3244

"A sacrifice for you," the zealot says quickly, trying to appeal to the demon's focus, "a token of our appreciation and worship."

The demon's head tilts. Remus looks up at them, pain and blood loss working in tandem to make it a struggle to even keep his eyes open, his vision growing fuzzier again. The demon's fingers twitch.

"O Great and Powerful—"

"Are these people bothering you, my dear?

***

Remus is having a wonderful dream.

The barn is warm, for once, like he's been able to sneak up to the rafters after the sun's been out all day, and he gets to lie on the bare boards and soak it in like some big, plump housecat. There's a light gust of air blowing, which means that the smell doesn't stick to his skin and linger. Instead, it just smells very faintly of grass and woodsmoke. Honestly, quite pleasant, all things considered. And his clothes feel like actual clothes for once! Not like the hay wraps and potato sacks he has to fashion his normal stuff out of, these feel like actual clothes clothes, like fabric that won't tear on the first sharp piece of metal he scrapes by.

He shifts a little, trying to nuzzle his face into the sunlit patch, and the sunlight rumbles back. That's a bit weird, sunlight normally doesn't make noise, but who is Remus to judge? He makes all sorts of noises that he isn't 'supposed' to make, and that doesn't stop him, so that's cool. The sunlight seems to approve of his thought process and another wave of warmth passes through his hair. So maybe the sun has hands too. That's also cool.

Would the moon have hands too?

The dream shifts; the sun sets but not unhappily, the sky turning pink, then orange, then red, then down to a soft and rich blue. The moon comes out—Remus likes the moon. Sometimes. Most of the time it's nice, because then he can see what he's doing when he goes to look for food and shelter. But sometimes when—

Clattering. Yelling. The burn of torches. Fear grips his chest with iron hands and—

Shh, the moon whispers, cool touch gliding gently down his spine—so the moon has hands too? Awesome—and the mob fades into mist. None of that, now, little one.

The moon is nice. Most of the time. Remus likes the moon.

I'm sure it likes you too.

Yeah—wait, what? Why is the moon talking about itself in third person?

The moon rumbles again, like the sun did, and ruffles his hair. I'm not the moon, little one, as flattering as the comparison may be.

Remus furrows his brow, curling up a little more, trying to shift into the warmth again. The warmth is more solid this time and he can't quite move into it—oh, but it shifts a little and it wraps around him, that's nice. He's still confused but at least he's warmer now. There's another rumble, another quiet thing that Remus can still feel in his cheek where it's pressed against the boards, though now that he thinks of it, these boards don't feel very much like boards. They're…softer, somehow. There aren't any gaps for the freezing wind to come through when the night is at its peak.

"I'm not boards either." The hands—or one of them at least, a hand settles at the base of his skull, smoothing a thumb over the place where his neck meets his ear. "Shh, you're alright. Just wake up slowly, you're still likely to be exhausted. You haven't slept for that long."

He mumbles. An ache suddenly reaches his chest, sinking through his ribs, his spine, right down to the ends of his fingers and down his legs. Like he's had to swim across the river to get away from the dogs, and then swim back in the same night because it's dangerous to spend so much time in the forest after dark. But he hadn't gone swimming yesterday, at least he doesn't think so, so what's—

Oh.

Oh, right.

The zealots. The summoning circle. The demon.

So that probably means that the hands and rumbling that he felt weren't the sun and the moon—why the fuck would he think that?—but were actually…

"Shh, shh," he hears, murmured tenderly into his ears as the hand at the back of his head cards through his hair, "you're alright, little one. Don't move so much, your body's still bound to be exhausted from all that happened."

But he's awake now. And being awake means that he can't ignore the fact that he's trying to snuggle up to a fucking demon.

Remus takes a deep breath and slowly, slowly tries to pull away from the demon's hold. The hand on the back of his neck flexes and for a moment, his heart nearly stops out of desperation, but then it gentles and he sits up, wincing at the tug in his muscles. He blinks a few times to shake the sleep from his eyes, only to frown when he sees a stone floor instead of a wooden one. Did—they didn't leave the abandoned building? It's still nighttime? How long has he been asleep?

"Remus?"

He turns on instinct and electric blue eyes meet his. He swallows despite himself.

"There you are," the demon murmurs—Logan, Logan, that's right, his name was Logan— "are you doing well, dear?"

"I, uh—I'm—"

Logan's brow furrows in concern. "Is there something wrong with your throat? Are you in pain?"

Soft fingers brush against the front of his neck and he flinches on instinct, only for the arm still around his back to tighten just enough to keep him from falling. They do it again, still as light as anything, and Logan hums.

"I can't feel anything," he says softly, "did you strain it yesterday? I heard you scream as I was summoned, or perhaps from the crying?"

If it were asked in anything other than this painfully soft voice, Remus might have been offended or chastened by it. Instead, all he feels is a strange feeling in his gut that he tries to swallow away. "No. 'M fine."

"That's a relief. You still seem to be sore, though…the combination of the magic and the injuries are still taking time to work themselves out, I believe." His hand rubs at Remus's shoulder, right over where the knife had plunged into him. "Does this hurt at all?"

The tingling-burning sensation of being touched is back, but other than that, no. He shakes his head. Logan smiles and adjusts his grip—he's still in his lap. He's still in the demon's fucking lap, what the fuck, what the fuck—

"Hey, hey, it's alright, little one, I'm just shifting so you can lean against the wall if you'd like." The hand cupping the back of his head tilts him back until it gently bumps against something solid. Logan shifts his grip to his hips, and now he's balancing in the demon's lap, leaned back against the wall with his hands idly stroking his hips and sides. Sure. This is his fucking life right now. "Is that comfortable?"

"Mhm."

The shift from being pressed up against a warm demon to the cold air makes him shiver, though, and he wraps his arms around himself. Logan notices with a chuckle.

"And yet you've immediately covered a vulnerable part of yourself."

"It's cold," he mumbles, trying not to sound like a petulant child and failing. Logan chuckles again, hands sliding under Remus's arms to press against his tummy. "Wha—oh."

"Is that better?"

"You're so warm."

"I'm afraid I can ascribe only part of that to being a demon," he says, "the rest of it…"

"Touch-starved," Remus mumbles, "right."

"Don't look so despondent, it's hardly through fault of your own." When Remus is quiet for a moment too long, he tilts his head. "Is it?"

"I mean…sort of?"

"Have you sworn off touching other mortals?"

"What? No."

"Have you implemented some sort of system whereby anyone who lays hand on you shall suffer poor harvests for the next three years?" Remus stares at him. "Or do you carry some curse that would pass gruesome boils onto whomever made direct contact with your skin?"

"Those seem like they're really specific examples."

Logan shrugs. "Well?"

"No, I haven't done any of those things. Or—had them done to me."

"Then how could you be responsible for your own touch starvation?" The hands on his stomach are really, really fucking warm. "Don't apologize for needing something that you have been deprived of."

"Demons aren't supposed to be this tender," Remus blurts out.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The one thing he's fucking not supposed to do is piss off the only person that's been kind to him for as long as he can fucking remember. But oh, no, Remus is not allowed to have nice things, he has to open his big fucking mouth and ruin them. Maybe he really is cursed, that he can't think before he speaks for two fucking seconds, but it's not his fault, it's not, he just thinks of them and then he says them because everyone always talks about how important it is to ask that things make sense and to say what he's feeling but not him, oh, no, not him, not Remus—

"Oh, little one," he hears faintly, and then the hands on his stomach are pressing gently to help him slow his breathing, "shh, calm down, now, it's alright. I'm not offended."

"You're—you're not?"

Logan chuckles, shaking his head. "I suppose I'm not acting as the rumors about my kind would have you believe, it's no pain to have you ask about it. You don't have to fret so much. You're far too sweet."

Sweet? Sweet? Remus isn't sweet. Remus is a pest, pests aren't sweet. When he voices that thought too, Logan frowns, and his fingers flex ever so slightly.

Remus squeaks.

Confusion ripples across Logan's expression before a slow smile spreads across his face. He does it again, just a little, and it sends a jolt through Remus's tummy. He chuckles.

"Ticklish?"

Remus doesn't say a fucking word. Logan spreads his fingers and does it again and Remus squirms—

"I think that's a 'yes,' little one."

"Don't!" Remus squeaks when his hands start to move again, trying to move away from this weird feeling that is too warm and too weird and it's making his stomach do all sorts of weird flips and Logan chuckles again. "Don't do that, it feels—it feels weird."

Logan's smile fades. "Have you never been tickled before?"

Remus shakes his head and Logan hums, hands moving to his sides just to hold him.

"Another time, perhaps."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'another time?'"

"I meant what I said, you know," Logan remarks, the smile returning, "you're very interesting, little one. Do you really expect me to just leave you be? When my curiosity has been piqued?"

He shifts again under the demon's watchful eye. He's not…he's not interesting. He's a pest. He's the thing the villagers chase off. He's the monster parents warn their kids about becoming. He's the thing the guards train their dogs to chase. There's nothing interesting about that.

When he says as much to Logan, though, the demon's expression darkens and his electric blue eyes almost crackle as he shifts. Some of his body turns back into that smoke Remus remembers from the ritual and despite himself, he grows smaller. That seems to tip whatever scales back in his favor, though, as Logan takes a deep breath and resolidifies.

"Perhaps I was right in my initial assessment, then," he says lowly, "that this place is plagued by those with small minds who would rather fret about themselves than endeavor to learn something for once in their pathetic lives."

The sheer derision dripping from each word isn't doing much to calm Remus down.

"And you, little one," he continues, voice deepening with something that could almost be wonder, except he's talking about Remus, and nothing about Remus is wonderful, "are fascinating. You speak so freely, and you don't have the shame that most mortals carry with their bodies, and there is so much you have yet to learn and you don't seem afraid of it…"

His smile grows and Remus swears he has a few too many teeth.

"How could I not be intrigued? How could I not be expected to want to keep you?"

"Keep me? What do you mean, keep me?"

"Precisely that. Or did you think the traditional deal for a mortal soul was simply a trifle?" When Remus can't muster the words to respond, he leans closer, bringing Remus up to meet him like he weighs nothing. "Demons are meant to be creatures of temptation as well, are we not? Can I not tempt you into letting me keep you, little one? Away from this place where they would hurt you, hunt you, could I not persuade you to let me bring you somewhere you would be treasured?"

"What—" it's hard to think with electric blue eyes on his— "what would you get out of it?"

"Aside from the pleasure of your company?" He tilts his head. "I've told you, Remus, there is so much that is interesting about you. Do you not wish to study that which you find interesting?"

A demon is telling me he wants to put me in a glass jar and study me, basically. This is fine. Is this fine? What the fuck is happening?

His hesitation must come off as disbelief—which is only partly true, the rest of him is trying to wrap his head around the fact that this is happening, still—because Logan hums and switches to holding him up with just one arm, which…is another thing he has to get over now, thanks.

"Do you not believe me still?" Before Remus can say anything, he's already opening his mouth to swipe his finger across—are those fangs? "Here, allow me…"

Remus's eyes widen as blood—it has to be blood, but then why is it black?—wells up from the cut on Logan's finger. He draws something on the floor next to them and the blood turns gold, shining in the shape of a sigil before becoming part of the stone itself. Logan smooths his thumb over the cut and it heals.

"What's that?"

"A basic protection sigil. None may enter this building without your consent now."

"…why?"

"A show of good faith. If I intended to harm you, don't you believe I would have done so by now?" The hand comes up to cradle his cheek. "I don't mean you any harm, little one. Truly."

Remus swallows. "So what do you want?"

"At some point, you'll make me believe you like hearing me say it," he teases gently, "I want to keep you. Let me learn about you, fascinating thing that you are. And in return, I will keep you safe from those who could never hope to understand you."

Well, he sure wasn't fucking kidding about demons being creatures of temptation, because that's really, really fucking tempting. But that's just it_ there's no way there isn't a catch. Is he going to be split apart like some butterfly, pinned up to be examined? Is he going to be put in a cage? What's the catch?

"You are agreeing to be taken away by a demon," Logan says wryly when he asks as much, "most would view that as the catch."

"But you're being nice. You're—you're offering to save me, not hurt me."

"Does it not speak to your current situation, then, that you would view being taken by a demon as being saved?"

That's a good fucking point. He chews on his lip absentmindedly. Logan lets him think for another moment before he sighs, bringing him close to cuddle him again.

"You could say no," he says, as gentle as ever, "and I would…well, I wouldn't be happy, but I would accept it. And I would help you remake this building into somewhere you could be safe. That sigil will hold whether you're here or not."

"You—you would what?"

"You could stay here, if you wanted. We could make it into a proper house, if you didn't want to come with me. I could visit, we could talk, but you wouldn't have to agree to be kept."

"Wouldn't this be another cage?"

Logan frowns, but it's not an angry frown. No, he looks more…melancholy. "I would never keep you if you didn't want to be kept. You're not a prisoner, Remus, you can go if you want to."

"I can?"

Another pause, and then Logan starts to pull away. As soon as his hands leave him, the cold rushes back and a mortifying noise leaves his throat. Logan hushes him but he doesn't come back, instead fully moving away and standing up. He offers a hand and Remus would be embarrassed at how fast he scrambles for it, only for Logan to catch him and steady him as he shoots to his feet.

"Easy," he murmurs, "don't rush…you're still weak from everything that happened."

Remus clings to him as he tries to get his feet under him, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and chest, and definitely ignoring the tingling warmth in his hands. Logan holds him for another moment, just to make sure he's steady, before he moves away again. Remus watches, rooted to the floor, as Logan retreats all the way to the other side of the room.

Empty stone stretches endlessly between them.

"You can go," Logan says, voice still as soft as if it were still being whispered into his ears, "I won't stop you. This isn't a test, Remus, if you truly wish to go, you can."

Remus turns to look at the door. On instinct, his body moves, walking silently across the stone to step through it cautiously. He hesitates for just a second, wondering if it was all some grand farce and pain would sear through him at any moment, but it doesn't. Instead, his foot settles in the dew-damp grass and a shaking breath leaves him.

The moon is out. The world is bathed in silvery light. He can see the silhouette of the other buildings a ways away, even the roof of the barn.

He could go. He could go back to the barn and curl up in the rafters. He could live another day, when he was so sure he was going to bleed out on some stone floor. It's cold, he realizes, with a bone-weary certainty that he's only now able to name. It's cold. It's so, so cold.

Logan is still standing there as he looks over his shoulder. Slowly, he opens his arms.

Remus all but throws himself at the demon as he races back inside, letting Logan catch him with barely a grunt, lips pressed against his ear as warm warm warm arms wrap around him once more.

"Keep me," he says in a rush, "keep me, please, please, keep me, I'll do whatever you want, please—"

"Hush, now, little one, you don't have to beg." Logan's hand runs up and down his back. "Shh, calm down, now, I'm right here, I have you."

Remus manages to draw a shuddering breath before Logan's holding the back of his skull and gently bidding him to look up. He does, meeting those electric blue eyes once more as Logan smiles.

"I will keep you, little one," he says, voice somehow sounding like it's coming from inside his head, "and in return, you will let me learn you. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes. Yes, that sounds fair, that sounds great, yes, yes."

Logan smiles with too many teeth and his eyes glow, and for the first time in so long he can't even fucking remember, Remus feels safe.

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[maddilynmuse]

Two Stars

Chapter 2

Me: So… should we finish Bared Teeth and Open Hands? Should give those guys some closure and-

Brain: No, more angst

Me: Honestly valid.

A second chapter to my Body Swap Fic! Enjoy~

<< First || Next >

2hats spoilers and post game spoilers for In Stars and Time. Also available on AO3.

CW: Body dysphoria/dysmorphia, derealization, dissociation, abnormal body signals, panic induced self harm, talking to yourself, general panic

Siffrin stared at the dots littering the back of his hands… his hands? Were these his hands? His hands were pale, near-darkless. But between the little specks of light, there was almost nothing but dark.

He flexed his fingers, and they moved. Paper pose, rock pose, scissors pose… they followed. It should’ve been clear they were his! But still he kept moving them, flitting between gestures and poses, open and closed, bending and unbending fingers, desperately trying to outwit himself. Maybe if they couldn’t keep up, he’d wake up from whatever dream this was! He just had to do something complicated enough that these not-his-hands couldn’t catch on in time!

But of course it didn’t work like that. This wasn’t a dream, these weren’t someone else’s hands, it was no strange mirror image. They moved “along with” his hands because they were his hands, no matter how violently his mind tried to reject this fact.

Even his panic felt wrong. He had no human heart to beat, no proper lungs to hyperventilate with, no physical means by which to get lightheaded except in the most painfully literal sense possible. Hah! Get it? Light headed! His head was a light! Wait was it? Yes! Yes it was! There was a subtle flare ever-present in the edges of his vision, and he could see the bark of the tree all too well.

His skin crawled… or flared? Was this how that felt? It was disconcertingly buzzy, like a buildup of static in one particular spot making nonexistent hairs stand on-end so much it prickled with something not-quite painful. It was distracting, and normally, a bit of discomfort would be welcome! Much easier not to think when you’re in agony! But this only scraped at the already fried edges of his mind.

He grabbed at one “flare” as it shot down his arm, but it did nothing to stop it. Invisible fingernails dug into lightless skin. He was seized by an irrational urge to tear it off. Yes, yes! It was just…

A suit.

A strange suit! So just… tear! Come on. Tear! It wasn’t like it was his cloak, he could rend this! The pain wasn’t enough to ground him, wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough. He needed, needed-

He needed his friends, his family, Isabeau, Mirabelle, Bonnie, Odile, Loop! Anyone, please! Anyone!

He needed to cut it off. The fabric was just too strong, right? And he couldn’t find the seam, so he’d make a new one! Now where was his dagger? Around his waist belt…

…

…

Oh stars he was completely nude.

Nope! Nope nope nope nope nope! Do not look at the starry skin! Don’t look at the fact that you’re built like a children’s toy! Don’t look don’t look don’t look!

He wished he could feel nauseous. Instead he just felt itchy. Constrained. Suffocated. Wrong. He needed to get this off. Minus the dagger, he just used his fingers, tearing at his own not-flesh with a desperate fervor. It stung, but not enough; his pain tolerance was too high. He needed to bleed, needed to see he was still human, needed to have some way of getting all this frantic pressure out! Get it out get it off get it out get it off get it out get it off get it off GET IT OFF!

Shlick!

There was a wet sound followed by a muffled cry of pain as he stared at the too-bright, misty fluid running out of one arm. The opposite hand was held in a scissors position. He had cut it…

And that was not blood. It wasn’t even fully liquid, some of it evaporating into mist. His mind went fuzzier than the flares on his body as he watched it, imagining that to be all the pent up panic leaking out. Too soon it tried to stop, so he picked at the wound, fingers tearing it just a bit more open. The relief was tangible, skin settling and the over-bright flare surrounding him dying down to something manageable.

Maybe best not to think about the reality of what he just did.

Instead…

“Let’s talk about something.” At least his voice sounded similar… wait, why did it sound similar? Hah! Had Loop been pitching their voice up the entire time? That was kind of funny, in a way.

He sat down on the opposite knoll that he woke up on, taking his normal seat. If he closed his eyes and tried to block out the itch of his skin, it was easy to imagine Loop sitting across from him instead of… whatever this counted as.

“So, stardust!”

?!?!

Oh. He said that. He was talking to himself. Okay then!

“So, stardust! Now can I help you this wonderful new loop? Or whatever this counts as! Because wow, you’ve managed to mess up in a blindingly bright NEW way! You really thought that messing with wishcraft again would end well for you? Stars, how did you even make it this far, you absolute idiot!”

… no. That was wrong. Loop was rude and obnoxious sometimes, but always nice when he needed it. Well, usually. Except when he REALLY upset them, but he couldn’t ask them to be infinitely okay with everything. Still, they were nicer than this.

So he tried again. “… sorry stardust. I got a bit carried away… so let’s try that again! How can I help you?”

“… I’m scared,” he admitted to himself, pulling his legs into his chest. With his eyes closed, he could pretend they looked normal. “And breathing won’t help. It feels wrong.”

“I know exactly what you mean, but don’t worry! You’ll get used to it! Or not! Who knows! I’m literally just you putting on a voice! Even less Loop than the real one!”

“Shut up.”

He was losing his mind, wasn’t he? Well, at least he wasn’t literally attacking himself anymore? Ugh, hopefully no one was listening, but wouldn’t they have said something by now if they were…?

“Ahem. So, stardust. Let’s go over this. How exactly did you manage this?”

He took… whatever counted as a breath. Seemed he still breathed, even if the mechanism was different. Good to know? “I made a wish for you, Loop! I- I wanted you to have a chance to be happy too, so I wished that you’d be able to be yourself with us, and I did use us specifically so that, you know, I could also be included and we didn’t have to kill each other or fervor…”

“And now you look exactly like me?”

“Apparently??? Which??? I don’t get??? Why would you being yourself mean I’m you?”

“Oh stardust, don’t flatter yourself. You already ARE me, and vice versa, and-“

“Oh my stars, I’m so stupid.”

Loop was him, so being themselves meant being Siffrin. He was in their body, so presumably the reverse was also true. But he’d used us! He was supposed to be included! But…

…

Well. What exactly was stopping him from joining them? Other than, well…

Looking like this.

…

And being naked.

…

He would like clothes, actually.

Being an infinitely easier goal, he decided to focus on that one. Step one, obtain a cloak or pants or skirt or SOMETHING, step two… everything else. Step out and- oh! It’s night time. Convenient? It looked like most would were inside for the night, and Vaugardiand rarely locked their doors, but they’d still hear him, right? And going into a house to steal somehow felt worse than walking in to chat or explore…

Oh! Clothes line!

And that was how Siffrin ended up robbing some poor person’s skirt because they couldn’t be bothered to take the wash in on time, scribbling a note of apology.

Now!

… everything else.

This was going to be a long trip.

-*-*-

That’s all for now~

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[lumosatnight]

Day 28: The Housesitter

Theo meets the monster haunting Grimmauld Place.

@kinktober2023 day 28: Cockbulge, @hpkinktober day 23: Monsterfucking, @hpsnooze prompt: Night Demon

Sirius/Theo, E, 500 words

Dubious Consent, but Theo is into it, Bestiality, Anal Sex

—

Theo wished someone had mentioned that Grimmauld Place was haunted when he agreed to housesit.

“Mr Nott must not go in the attic,” the house-elf had croaked at him upon arrival, and Theo hadn’t seen him since.

Well, with instructions like that, what was he expected to do?

-♦️-

The attic was disappointingly bare. He didn’t even bother closing the door on the way out.

-♦️-

Theo chose a random room and fell asleep immediately.

Sometime later, he bolted awake, the back of his neck prickling, and cast a Lumos.

The light landed on the dark figure looming in the corner. It was large and black, and Theo went rigid with fear as the creature stalked closer. It was hunched, its outline vaguely human but with a distinctly snout-like nose and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

“Get out of my bed,” the creature growled, its black fur shining under Theo’s wand. “Unless you’d like to share.”

“No, I —”

The creature grabbed his throat, claws wrapping nearly all the way around. Theo gulped, going rigid for another reason entirely now. The creature sniffed him, its scratchy muzzle rubbing his cheek and making him shudder.

“You smell aroused.”

“I’m — I’m not,” Theo protested but was cut off when the creature ripped off the covers and flipped him onto his stomach.

He heard fabric tearing and the bed squeaking as the creature climbed up behind him.

“I suggest you use your wand,” it said.

His wand? What for?

He had forgotten about his wand entirely. He could stun the creature (probably) or he could call for help (assuming help would come). Instead, he conjured lube and slathered it on his fingers before circling his hole.

The creature snarled behind him, but it didn’t sound menacing, merely impatient.

He was adding a third finger when the creature grabbed him, yanking up his hips and positioning at his entrance. Theo felt the creature’s erection against his hole.

“Is this what you wanted?” it growled, and it pushed inside in one harsh thrust, giving Theo no choice but to accommodate the massive length.

Theo cried out as he was impaled, the painful stretch bordering on too much, but also feeling just right. The creature’s cock was huge. Theo pressed a hand to his belly, feeling the bulge there.

The creature held him in a tight grip as it fucked him, sharp claws digging into his hips, sharper teeth nipping at his neck and shoulders but never breaking skin. It bounced Theo on its cock, leaving him no room to escape. Each thrust inside made Theo’s head fuzzier and his moans louder.

Eventually, the creature roared, body shaking as it released into him. More and more of its seed spilled into Theo. 

He had never been so full. He could barely move. He was delirious with it.

Before the creature could pull out, Theo’s eyes were closing, his body slumping with exhaustion, his last thought being This was not going to be a boring week after all.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 27 | Masterlist | Day 29 →

[pants-magic-pants]

The rest of the black cabochons were added to the front of the main lace piece... and they are rather magical!

I must admit that the lace was a compromise, though. The first kind that I bought was a blacker black, if that makes sense, and fuzzier, more mossy -- more accurate, I think... It just was too weak and stretchy. This one is strong and easy to work with, but more clean and sheer. I'm wondering if I want to have a piece layered underneath to sort of bulk up some parts, even though I will still be cutting out little "windows" to see the velvet, like the original. Hmmmmmm....

Also, still deciding which direction of the velvet that all the pieces will go. The direction changes how it appears. Not shown here, I tried holding it out with the pile facing up, and it was a really nice, dark, rich blue. The lace and jewels seem to look better against darker fabric.

Right now, I'm a bit held back from construction until I can buy the correct needle for my machine, and find the right lightweight interfacing. I've heard organdy might be good, or silk organza. It just REALLY needs to be lightweight because holy hell

[erodasfishtacos]

ST. PAUL

Please like, comment, recommend, reblog, and come talk to me if you enjoyed the piece.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a two days) 😌

warnings: smut, daddy kink, 18+

—

Harry loves being the center of attention.

It’s really no surprise at this point that he enjoys when tens of thousands of people are watching him perform.

He also secretly loves that people love his wife as well. He swore sometimes he thinks his wife is more popular than him during tour.

YN was didn’t come out from backstage to stand and watch the show right away like she usually did - she was working through some merch issues with Jeff.

Harry noticed that the fans were continuously looking back to where his wife would usually stand for the show.

Between one of the sets, Harry goes about ready some of the posters that fans have brought and he huffs out a faux affronted remark as he reads one out loud.

“I’m only here for your hot wife.”

He jokingly glares at the fan as the crowds laughs, “M’gonna have t’have a talk with security about these posters! Y’hitting on m’wife in front me! She’s not even out here, tough luck mate.”

Then he shimmies away as another song comes on.

A few minutes later, a sign pops up that says, “I want to taste YN’s watermelon sugar.”

Harry gives the person holding the sign a look of disbelief and shakes his head in disapproval at the poster before turning away.

“Should I text him?”

Harry reads from a fan’s board, he holds up his left hand and wriggles his ring finger that is donned in his wedding band, “Y’asking the wrong person, love. I’ve been locked down f’eleven years, don’t know much about the new age of dating!”

He goes on to say, “My only advice is if he’s playing games - don’t do it. Trash, trash, trash. Not for you.”

When YN finally arrives to her usual spot, everyone tries to get a glimpse from where they’re at. It was a thing, everyone wants to not only get a glimpse of Harry Styles’ wife but also her outfit.

There were hundreds of instagram accounts now dedicated to their matching tour outfits.

The short dress she was wearing was made of the same material and color as his shirt *** and she looked stunning as always.

The singer notices all of the attention dart to the side of the arena, where he also spots his beautiful wife smiling with Glenne as they go to their usual spot.

When She ends, Harry walks down the catwalk with a exaggerated pout on his face, giving his wife a pointed look, “I just want to remind everyone, this show’s about me! I’m quite the narcissist so I know m’wife is gorgeous but we’re here f’me!”

The crowd erupts in laughter and playful ‘boos’ as a dimply smile spreads on his face as he adjust his in-ears.

YN bites the inside of her lip, holding back her own giggles at her husband’s boyish antics before she joins along in the boos.

“Alright, alright, no booing me now,” Harry titters like the comedian he is, “Just remindin’ y’who this is all about. Me! But let’s give a round of applause to m’wife who deals with the narcissism on a daily basis!”

The arena does so, thousands of fans capturing their interaction on their phones for people to coo over later.

YN rolls her eyes, laughing at some Glenne says before and then Harry is starting his next song with a few glances over to her until they meet eyes and he blows her a kiss which she returns.

And then a poster pops up in the pit that Harry knows he has to snag - gets a brilliant idea so he asks the fan to pass it forward.

He props his mic back into its stand before turning the poster around and showing it to his wife on the side.

“Show us your tits, respectfully.”

YN flips him off with a giggle before teasing at the collar of her dress which makes Harry’s jaw drop dramatically and he gives her a surprised look before shaking his head. ***

“Don’t y’dare flash the goods! I’m just jokin’ around, this is a family show….” He pauses before prompting the crowd, “Or is it?”

As he performs Lights Up, YN steps forward to the barricade to call over one of the fan who is awestruck as she stumbles over to YN.

“Could I borrow your sign?” YN asks the fan - who was dressed in a sequined suit that looked amazing and she had to compliment her on that too.

“Uh…yeah. He-here,” The girl stutters nervously, passing over the posterboard with shaky hands at meeting YN.

She was sooooo pretty up close, smelled like chanel number five, and smiled warmly enough to make the fan feel comfort.

“Thanks, I’ll give it right back,” YN assures her, stepping back over to Glenne, they giggle together before YN holds it over her head.

“Choke Me Daddy.”

Harry spots it in a mere minute, reading it over and unable to hide the moody, dark expression that flashes across his face before he covers it up by looking elsewhere.

Just the reaction she wanted.

Harry stay away from that side of the stage for a little, YN knows it’s to prevent a very public boner from her behavior.

YN hands it back, agrees to take a few pictures with the girl and her friends before they go back to enjoy the concert.

-

The girl who lent her the sign goes on to make tiktoks about the meeting.

“She was super nice and giggly.”

“She let us take a ton of selfies.”

“When she held it up, Harry like instantly got pissed or turned on or something because he gave her this look and it was intense.”

“Harry was staring at her like the whole concert after she held up that sign.”

“It seemed like YN was purposefully ignoring his signals to make him even more annoyed.”

“Her ring was so pretty.”

“I couldn’t tell who was more attractive, Harry or YN, I think they’re literally the hottest couple alive.”

-

When the concert ends, Harry bolts off stage - waving and blowing kisses to his adoring fans before disappearing into the back.

YN is waiting patiently by the entry, where she usually was, her stomach was tight and bracing for her husband’s reaction.

She wanted to play.

They both knew it.

Hell, the whole arena had known she wanted it.

And to her absolute disappointment, Harry arrives back stage and pulls her into a tight hug. He pulls back gently to kiss her with his large palm cupping her face.

“Hi baby, m’exhuasted. I’ll shower at the hotel,” Harry rasps, peppering a few more soft kisses before intertwining their fingers.

YN has to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Harry coming back stage, shoving her into his dressing room, and giving it to her hard for the sign she held up.

Nope, during the ride to the hotel, he was cuddly and like a puppy - whining until YN massaged his neck and allowed him to lay his head in her lap.

He doesn’t bring up the sign, just relaxes quietly until they get to the hotel and then just grabs her hand to lead her to their room.

YN tries to settle down the itchy arousal in her belly when Harry goes to shower.

She changes out of her dress into one of Harry’s shirts and goes about folding and organizing both of their suitcases.

After the shower stops, YN hears Harry moves around for a moment until he’s opening the bathroom door.

“Do you want to order room service? I’m star-“

She’s cut off when her husband’s hand reaches down and intertwines into her hair - gentle by firmly pulling her to stand by it and tugging her back into his hard chest.

“Harr-“

“I don’t think so, baby. I think s’daddy, yeah?” Harry hisses against the shell of her ear, “Do y’think I’d forget about y’holding up a sign that said choke me daddy?”

It’s easy for her to slip in a fuzzier, submissive state because she knows her husband will keep her safe and always take care of her.

“You showed that sign fir-“ YN begins to argue back but Harry pulls at her hair to silence her.

“Y’want t’argue or do you want t’be a good girl f’daddy?” Harry asks lowly, his voice threaten and void of any of his normal warmth, “I think ten is a good number, hm? Ten t’your arse?”

“But-“ YN loved to push him, she wanted those ten but she also liked to rile Harry up which was even better when he was adrenaline high from a show.

“Say ‘yes daddy’ or I’ll add five,” He warns, his voice had a delicious rasp from singing and he wraps his hand into her thong and rips it - making her yelp as the elastic snaps against her skin.

YN’s heart is pounding out of her chest, usually she was the one who took Harry by surprise - not the other way around.

Her skin was aching already from the brush burn of the fabric being torn from her sensitive skin, scalp pulsing from the tension on her hair.

“You were so obvious on stage, H. Once I held up that sign, your face gave everything away - that you’re so easy f’me - it’s embarrassing. I’ve been locked down for eleven years,” She imitates his accent in a bratty bite.

Harry snaps, nearly picking her up as he manhandles her over to the large hotel bed and she finds herself on her belly with Harry landing a hard slap to her right cheek.

“Y’think you’re s’fuckin’ cute? Don’t act like it doesn’t get y’soaked seeing all those fans cry f’me and I come home t’you,” He chuckles meanly, “And y’want to call me desperate? Look in the mirror, love.”

YN wriggles a bit but doesn’t have much time before the second and third hit with his rings still on - making it hurt even more.

“Count f’me, sweetheart,” Harry hums, thumbing open her cheeks to lean down and teasing lick her tighter entrance before letting go to land the fourth one.

“F-four,” She chokes out, feeling herself drip onto the sheets and her nipples tighten against the cotton fabric of the shirt she still has on.

“Four what.”

The air in the room is thick, humid as she mumbles against the pillows, “Four daddy.”

“Louder.”

“Four, s’four daddy,” YN moans, tacking on the fifth to her words when he lands on her left cheek and she can tell how sore she’ll be in the morning already.

“Gonna give me fifteen, baby? Or are y’done?” His voice is cautious, checking in to see where she’s at - if they add five more that means she really wants to play. If he stops at five, they both know that means she only wanted to be roughed up a little bit for the night.

“More, please.” YN gasps, shaking her bum in his face before it’s caught with the hardest hit yet and she yelps in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

After they reach fifteen, Harry is flipping her on her back and tugging her shirt off until her breasts spill out and he tugs roughly at a nipple.

“Daddy, please, please,” She whines, her thighs were damp and she was absolutely pulsating for his touch on her.

“I think I deserve an apology f’your behavior tonight,” He whispers against her puffy lips, his cock slipping against her mound lazily, “Desperate f’me even in front of tens of thousands of people. It’s quite cute, darling.”

“Fuck me, fuck me,” YN presses her lips to his eagerly, moaning when he slips between her folds and his tip bumps against her clit.

“Y’have no fuckin’ manners, pet. I think I’ve spoiled y’too much,” Harry admonishes with faux disappoint, pulling back until their centers aren’t touching and landing a smack to her mound.

Then he’s reaching down to thumb at her bud with a relentless pleasure but as soon as she starts to lift her hips into the feeling - he pulls away and tucks two fingers up inside her - repeats that quite a few times.

She felt like she was on fire, she needed him so badly that she wasn’t able to take much more of the teasing.

They usually played for longer, hours sometimes but on tour - it was hard to, both of them bone-tired and knowing they have to get up early and do it again tomorrow.

Harry knows his wife like the back of his hand, knows when she needs more and when she’s hit her limit for the night.

When he sees hot, fat tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, lips full and swollen, and she’s mewling, “Daddy.”

He knows she’s nearly at her limit, he slips inside her with no resistance and has to push for a moment because it feels that euphoric.

“Baby, fuck. Always feel s’fuckin’ good. This body was made f’me, yeah? S’addicitng, s’warm and tight,” Harry praises his wife, kissing her before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth.

“S’for you, all of it. Ha-Daddy, I’m so close already, do it - c’mon,” She begs, legs wrapping around his narrow waist and pressing her heels into his bum.

They both know what she wants but he wants to hear her say it.

“C’mon, tell me. Say it and I’ll give it t’you,” He rumbles as he thrusts in with loud, smacking noises echoing through the room.

She blinks up at him with twinkling doe eyes, a small smirk on the side of her lips, as she says in a kittenish voice, “Choke me, daddy.”

And like that, his hand is collaring her throat and lightly pressing down until her breathe catches in her throat.

“Come f’me, m’desperate lil’ thing. All those people with those nasty signs and all I can think about it y’perfect cunt,” He murmurs in her ears, pressing just a bit more and then just like clockwork - she tenses and begins to come and he lightens his grip and releases when he follows soon after her.

-

👀👀👀👀👀

[tj-crochets]

A black cat to wear this dress! I’m not sure what I should name her

[wevegottogetaway]

The one where it turns sweeter (part2)

TW: smut

So... this is my first time writing smut. I just hope that I did the piece justice and that you’ll like it. Tell me if that’s something you’d want more or also if you have any feedback/criticism/idea/request, I would love to hear your lovely thoughts. Please don’t be shy xx

Part 1

"Just shut up and come kiss your dork." 

Y/n certainly doesn’t need more incentive to comply; the sweet taste of his lips seeping through hers is plenty enough as it is. Her mind is a nerve-ending away from losing any semblance of a grasp on reality. This feels too much like a dream: fuzzy mind, sensitive skin and a desperate plea not to be awakened yet.

Except, all her senses are on overdrive, buzzing with more fervency with every new inch of her that Harry explores. And no matter how dreamlike it all seem, the thrills are much too intense to be sleep-induced and the details much too accurate to be conjured up by a deceiving mind. The way chills spiral up her spine as they follow the roaming of his hands underneath her shirt; the way her skin erupts in tiny goose bumps where his lips leave wet spots after careful ministrations. Starting at the corner of her month, as if reluctant to retire from their twin set, all across her left cheek to finally tease the area right below her ear and mischievously graze his teeth around the earlobe. 

Definitely real. 

"Fuck. I’ve been wai’in." He almost whimpers the extent of his relief, the rasp of his voice triggering a new wave of shivers across y/n’s straddling body. "Been waiting so long, love." 

"No more waiting now." She quickly answers with a pointed shake of her head.

Her hands also have a mind of their own, not wasting a second more to finally tread the land that had been forbidden to her until tonight. Now his neck was hers to scratch and his wondrous locks hers to grasp and to pull in taunting fashion. Now the grunts coming out of his mouth still tending to her ear, were hers to revel in and to swallow in a searing kiss. Now she was his to hold, to touch and to undo like the final tug to a bow on a wrapped present. Now the pleasure was theirs to share. 

"Off, take it off" Y/n breathlessly inquires after pausing their kiss long enough to voice her request. Her fingers have already made their way to the bottom of Harry’s jumper, slipping underneath the heavy material only to be met by more fabric. She pouts as she realizes there was more work than expected, but as soon as the first layer has been discarded and she takes in his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, the disappointment melts right off her lips. Her hands cups at his face as she bits a growing smile and her eyes dive into the green gems already focused on her. "Flustered, are we?" She teases before rearranging his hair back in one brushing gesture and sealing their lips back together.

"Mhm, got me all hot an’ bothered, darlin’" he quips back as he rids her of her top, successfully leaving her in a simple black laced bra. Damn, she didn’t have the same multi-layer luxury he had apparently. The special endearment is also not lost on her, its appearance quite new between them, but in retrospect it can just be added to the list of ‘new’ things their relationship now entails. 

Harry takes in the sight of her exposed cleavage, one hand swiping the strings of hair still resting upon her right collarbone, before finally dropping kisses down her neck and across the top of her breasts. One soft grip at her waist, his other hand crawls back to press against the area between her shoulder blades in a desperate attempt to get her that bit closer than she ever was.

"You’ve got one more." Y/n reminds him, her head slightly tilted upward as to avoid a mouthful of Harry’s mane. At her words, he slowly leans back to take in her own flustered state.

"This not enough fo’ you?" He asks knowing full well she was just as antsy for skin-to-skin contact as he was.

"Not even close" she proudly responds while taking the matter into her own hands. In a swift and not too clumsy motion, she’s got his undershirt in a bowl that she hastily throws behind them.

"Better?" He smirks at her. 

"Halfway there" is all she retorts and goes back for a much needed kiss, hands finally embracing the smooth expanse of his bare back. She can feel his own smile spreading so wide he can barely follow the kiss’ dynamic. "What?" She finally asks him in suspicious banter, keeping her face an inch away from him, a finger swiping across the corner of his bottom lip.

"Nothin’" He murmurs along her jaw, before elaborating. "Just…livin’ on a prayer."

Y/n can’t help but laugh at the Bon Jovi reference, the moment is so Harry-like. A few words were always enough to make random songs pop into his head, and then the temptation is too hard for him to pass up the opportunity to make a pun about it. That’s just how he’s brain works and y/n has always loved this quirk of his. He is a music enthusiast after all, and the passion he’s derived from is what made him such a force to be reckoned with, so really, y/n doesn’t mind.

"Care to clue me in on that prayer of yours?" She says instead, before she suggestively takes a bite of his lip. The statement earns her a chuckle as Harry goes back to flowering her neck his tender pecks. 

"Don’t worry darlin’, you’ll be singing them in no time." He chirps back seductively, bringing his hands to grasp at y/n thighs still straddling his lap. Then in one swoop, he lifts her and lowers her back until she’s laying on the ground. Quickly his tattooed torso follows suit as he comes resting above her figure and reunites their lips in an unprecedentedly passionate kiss. 

This time around, y/n’s hand concentrate on the inked work adorning his front, fingers tracing each of the artist’s lines. It mesmerizes her how the art seems to be such an intrinsic element of his skin now. Like all the graphics and doodles had been embedding the tissue since birth. Swallows flying across is chest as he learnt how to walk; laurels flourishing along his pelvis as he became less boy and more man; butterfly metamorphosing some every day he grew closer into the amazing being he is now. 

So y/n may have lost it a little, but in her defense, Harry has always been her weakness and now he’s kissing his way down her chest and playfully nipping at her belly button…so she’s officially relinquished any sovereignty she may have once possessed over her body. Harry softly pecks the palm of her hand when she brings it to his cheek, her gaze already clouded in euphoria. After sharing a knowing look like two accomplices on the brink of mischief, he mutters a soft "can I?" as his fingers tease at the waistband of her jeans. 

A hazy ‘please’ is all he needs to work her zipper down and button off, all the whilst sporting a smug corner smile. The task gets a bit more tedious when it comes to peeling the fabric from her legs but it’s not Harry’s first skintight jeans’ rodeo. Plus, the sight he is privy to once they’ve joined his long forgotten undershirt and jumper somewhere behind the couch, is quite unparalleled in comparison. Smooth legs that take his head for a spin with how elegant yet how strong they look; cotton panties, still matching in color, covering wonders he has yet to experienced; so much flesh and skin ready for the taking and calling out for his touch. 

A soft groan escapes him as he lowers himself back to place a wantsome kiss on her timid smile. "Fuck, look a’ you, love." More kisses. "So pretty…so delicious." He utters against her throat, nose tenderly rubbing against the skin. 

His lips retell the same stories as they travel down y/n’s body once again, this time making a longer halt as they gloss over her breast, blindingly enclosing themselves around y/n’s nipple though the garment’s lace. She swears she can feel him smiling against her boob as the small bud hardens from pleasure, and when he adds in a quick graze of his teeth once he’s satisfied with his work, y/n’s hand flies out to the one making its way up to her other nipple. 

The gesture isn’t meant as a restraint so much as an encouragement which Harry happily embraces. His thumb starts circling the areola in a slow and teasing manner, every now and then applying increasing pressure in its center. Y/n’s hand is still wrapped around his wrist, as if afraid he would suddenly stop, while the other slides down his back to squeeze at his bum. 

"Touch me" she breathes out.

"I am."

"Touch me more." Her insisting words have him lift his head from her skin to process her demand: at this point, his mind might be fuzzier than hers. 

"My girl wants somethin’ more? Just have to ask, darlin, I’ll give it straight t’you." 

His hand starts moving underneath hers, and once she’s pleased with the path it’s taking, she lets go of it. Just as her hand settles back on his shoulder, her fingers dig in the flesh in retaliation to the dragging caress Harry is delivering underneath her panties. He is being awfully slow at it, collecting wetness all around and bringing it back to slick up her neglected clit. He has readjusted his body back to her level, not wanting to miss the slightest manifestation of her pleasure on her face.

As his movements around the bud speed up, her legs fidget more and more in between his, until the pressure starts building strong in her lower belly and her mind is once again pleading to get him closer to her. Untangling their lower limbs to wrap hers around his waist, his response comes in a feverish kiss and his ministrations moving from her tingly clit to her wet opening. They resume their circling motion, index teasing its way in but never quite making an entrance; the patience game he seems to be playing not to y/n’s liking as she groans against his lips.

"Flustered, are we?" He has the audacity to use her own words against her but somehow it turns her on even more. Makes her all the more curious to discover just how sassy he can be when he’s got her in a puddle at his fingers. Quite literally. 

"Don’t be mean." Y/n pouts before laying open mouth kisses along his neck. Maybe that’ll motivate him.

"Sorry, love. You’re just so drippy down there, it’s driving me crazy. Is it all fo’ me?" He kisses her forehead in a vain attempt to make up for all the riling up he’s doing. 

He forgets he can be as easily riled up though, when y/n susurrate at his ear "You know it is." 

The admittance has him pushing his hips against her, effectively pressing his fingers harder on her pussy. They both moan in unison at the friction, heightened pleasure coursing through their bloodstream, saturating their veins. It’s then they realize there’s so much more to come, like the moment ticked something off in their brains, and now they can’t get naked fast enough. Frantic hands pulling at the remaining clothing articles left of their bodies while their lips are caught in an equally raging war. A war they’re battling on the same side as they fight for the same thing: intimacy, passion, closeness. 

Once they’re both left bare to the other’s eyes, they take a second to revel in the moment. It took all the patience and abnegation in the world to get them to this point. Days of yearning stifled in silent admonition and nights of supposedly wishful thinking that left them wanting more at every new sunrise. So much anguish turned into so much elation as the truth prevailed though. That’s a lot pleasure warranted to make up for lost time. 

"Been dyin’ to taste you, darlin’. What d’ya say?" He asks in between kisses. Their naked bodies are so untangled they can’t tell beginning from end, but Harry is all too willing to unweave himself form y/n’s loving limbs if it means he gets to have her on his tastebuds. And apparently so is she, if the high-pitched ‘please’ breathing past her lips is any indication.

The smugness returns on his face as he once again undertakes the delightful descent to her sensitivity. There is no material stopping him this time though, just more skin begging to be brought to life. And when his lips finally surf across her mound, the goose pumps blooming in their wake just prove him right. Her breathy noises only spur him on, tongue finally taking a long swipe across her lips, like a secret weapon kept under wrap for the most opportune time. 

Y/n’s hands are quick to grab onto something, and the absence of linens underneath her only hastens her reach for him: one hand buried deep in his headful of curls, the other resting on his own hand at her hip. She feels his thumb rubbing soothingly at her skin there and she loves how tender he can be, even while simultaneously devouring her in greedy licks. The contrast as her vision blurring and no matter how much she wants to watch him have the meal of his life, her body is too riddled by pleasure to keep herself focused enough. 

The feeling only keeps intensifying as Harry properly delves into her, tongue first, his other hand eventually coming to hold her thigh down as it keeps clamping back shut at every new wave of ecstasy rushing over her. "So good, Harry. Feels so good." She keeps chanting in delirium, and Harry’s own excitement is starting to grow unbearable. There’s no way he can’t let go of her to relieve himself for a second though, he’ll just have to wait for her unravelling.

"Taste so sweet, love. Come on, please cum fo’ me. Need it real bad." He pleads for her undoing as though Time was about to rip her away from him before he got to properly have her.

Deciding the moment calls for a change in tactic, he brings two fingers to her wet hole and swiftly slides them inside of her. Rejoicing when he is met with no resistance, he quickly brings his lips back to her sensitive bud, alternating between hard sucks and pacifying licks.  

It doesn’t take much longer for the knot inside of her to come undone and her orgasm to take over every parcel and every atom of her. And Harry can’t get enough. She’s everywhere: all around his tongue as he keeps fucking into her in earnest strokes; up to his nose while the angle has him brushing against her clit; down his ears with songs of uncontrollable bliss; underneath his hands as he can feel every spasms seizing her body. 

He tends to her sensitivity until she’s too overwhelmed to bear it, and complies when she gives a small tug at his hair. Their lips immediately find each other even though they were both rendered breathless by y/n’s climax. She can taste it on his lips so vividly, it makes her moan at how utterly crazy he’d gone at it. She tenderly swipes away the wetness on his chin while their tongues waltz together, and brings him closer to her with a koala move. Soon they are both made acutely aware of Harry’s excitement as his hard member is trapped between their heated bodies. 

"You’re incredible." Y/n finally voices with a look of unadulterated love and pure wonder. Her smile only emphasizes her confession and Harry’s heart swells so hard, he wonders if the butterfly on his stomach feels it too. He mirrors her beam with one of his own before lowering his forehead against hers. His muscles are starting to feel sore from the tension that has yet to be liberating from his body, and it takes all he’s got, not to drop the support his arms provide as they lay on each side of y/n’s face.

"Got me so hard, love. Feels like imma bout to explode." He admits while sliding his cock back and forth along her sweetness. He feels like a ticking bomb, winded so tight from years of nerve-wracking suspense, that have never felt more like foreplay than right at this moment, as y/n reaches out to him. Her hand confidently wraps around his shaft to deliver long strokes that have him shudder in pleasure. 

"Gonna do something about it?" She murmurs tauntingly at him.

"Mhm" is all he can respond before taking her hand from his cock and holding it down above her head in an interlocking grip. Taking a hold of his hard member, he then proceeds to gently tap her clit with his sensitive tip, in retribution for a teasing behavior. "Do we need a rubber?" He remembers to ask in between her moans.

"Not on my account." She answers truthfully, and Harry exults in knowing there will be nothing but warm smooth walls enveloping his dick once he finally has her.

"Yeah? Gonna let me just slide in? Take me all the way an’ keep me there forever?" The words have a clear purpose to wind her up further, but Harry thinks he might have screwed himself over with that one, as he finds himself equally aroused at the idea. Precome is already leaking from his reddened and swollen tip, only adding to the mess they’ve made together.

She answers him with a gentle kiss and her free hand comes to hold his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek in light motion. Their lips part for a shaky breath as Harry slowly pushes himself inside of her. They both sigh when his hips meet hers, every tensed molecule in their body uncoiling at the delicious friction. 

As he starts rocking into her, Harry’s hand grabs at y/n’s thigh to keep it close around hip. His other hand is still interweaved with hers by her head and he doesn’t think he’ll ever let got of it.

He’s movement starts to speed up, as the pleasure becomes stronger and the change in pace has y/n arching into him. He takes the opportunity to slide his hand up her back, when his fingers come in contact with a tiny item on the floor. In confusion, he takes it out from under her, and brings it up between them. Puzzled faces relax in recognition as they take in a square shape piece of their long forgotten game, the letter G carefully painted on its surface. 

"Guess I found it, huh." He jokes before tossing the piece away, and they both burst in laughter at the silly pun, Harry’s face buried in her chest. How can one have still so much wit even when balls deep in their secret-not-so-secret-anymore crush for the first time? Y/n loves it, though. It makes all the rapture even more delectable to know the one giving it to her is the same old Harry who almost gave her a heart attack once from how hard she was laughing. 

Laughters quickly merge into gasps of pleasure at the pressure of y/n’s walls tightening around Harry’s cock. Just like that, the playful interlude is over, letting lust conquer all. Powerful thrusts resume their pounding motion as y/n once again dissolves into colorful moans, and Harry takes his hand back up her spine until he’s holding onto the back of her neck. Kisses are trailed down her throat as he tilts her head slightly to the side. "Squeezin’ me so hard, love. Must be doin’ somethin’ right," He says against her skin, as he pounds into her. He can feel her walls clenching again, body twitching around him and he knows she’s close to her peak.

Removing his hand from underneath her, all the whilst not relenting from his earnest fucking, he brings two fingers to her lips, caressing the soft flesh before dipping past them. "Come on darlin’, make ‘em wet for me." He commands and the mere word have her throbbing from anticipation. Obediently, she accepts the digits in her month and starts wrapping her tongue around them like she would his cock. As she indulges in a soft suction, Harry’s hips snap even harder, making her wheeze in response. 

Fingers free from the confine of her warm mouth, he fits them down where their body meet and starts rubbing at her clit. "About to cum, aren’t you? Can feel it too, you know," he starts rambling to distract him from his own impending climax, "Gonna give it to me good, yeah? Wanna feel it all around, makin’ a mess o’ me, alright?"   

"Yes, Harry. ‘M so close," y/n answers before giving a sharp tug at his hair, "fuck me harder, please." It takes all his might not to nut right then and there, but the prospect of sharing the sweetest high of all with her, gives him enough resolve to hold back. Instead, he endeavors to make good on her request by delivering hard and vigorous thrusts that has her bucking against him. Wet noises start feeling the space around them, arousal coating their joined bits as well as Harry’s busy fingers. "That’s it, that’s it, almost there" he keeps muttering like prayers whispered to the Almighty. And it seems like the heavens are responsive tonight as a couple of hard calculated shoves is all it takes for y/n’s orgasm to rupture and send her spiraling. 

"Harry," his name on her lips at this very moment might just be the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. "Feels so good." Bliss and ecstasy are written all over her face, and the visual coupled with the sensation of her pussy still hugging tight onto his shaft, send him to a euphoric release of his own. Goose pumps pave their way across his skin as he gives a few more rolls of his hips to accompany the ribbons of cum spurting out of his cock. Y/n’s name is the only thought consuming his hazy mind, the only sound leaving his mouth against the tender skin of her throat where he’s buried his face. Slowly he then removes himself from her - not without a whine at the newfound emptiness greeting them both - and plops down by her side.

The living room is filled with an eery silence for a minute, as both y/n and Harry process everything that just transpired and give their body and chance to recuperate. Their sides are still touching, sticky from sweat, their breathing slowly regulating back to an even level. Harry carefully slides his hand into hers and they both share a look of affection.

"That was amazing." Y/n breaks the silence first in a hushed voice, and her confession makes Harry smile in pride.

"Fuck, com ’ere." He says although he’s the one lifting himself up on one elbow to give her a languid kiss. As he settles next to her, yet another Scrabble piece makes an appearance, this time stuck to the skin on the side of his shoulder before it falls off in a soft thud on the floor. He must have laid down on it in post-orgasmic bliss and the sweat made it stick there for a second.

Y/n picks it back up with a beaming smile as she inspect the little token. "Damn, for once I was actually kicking your ass at Scrabble. Kinda screwed myself over, didn’t I." She laughs at how she’d been so intent on winning the game, yet had been the one to throw the game board  along with caution to the wind.

"Actually love, I believe I was the one you screwed." Harry playfully retort, earning him a small slap to the stomach. The gesture only makes him laugh some more as he engulfs her in a crushing embrace. 

➪ Masterlist

[cuddlepilefics]

Nap time, baby

Fandom: Stray Kids

Little: Chan

Caregiver: Felix

 No one’s POV.:

Working on their new album, 3racha and especially Chan were getting back to the dorm later and later each night. Today was especially tough because JYP rejected almost half of the songs they had been working on. When the clock was nearing two in the morning, Chan sent his two dongsaengs home. It was obvious that Changbin had been struggling with a headache for the past few hours and Jisung was spacing out so much, the leader doubted he was as awake as he claimed to be. The two also didn’t put up as much of a fight as he had them expected to, though they begged him to go back to the dorm with them. Chan couldn’t afford going back yet. There was still so much work to do and it would only continue to pile up if he didn’t get it done with now. Sure, he was beyond exhausted but even if he went home with his friends now, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing what was waiting at the studio for him the next day. To make matters worse, Chan started do doubt his composing skills with how many of their new songs had been cancelled. He had poured his heart out on the paper and hearing that that wasn’t enough for Stay hurt him more than he wanted to admit. Still he didn’t want to give those songs up completely, so when Changbin and Jisung left, he opened those files and played around a bit. Maybe with a bit more editing, they would be good enough.

When Chan finally locked up the studio and went home for the night, it was five in the morning. He shuffled into the dark and quiet dorm, knowing he was the only one still up. He didn’t even bother to take a shower because he knew he had to be back at the company in only a few hours and he wanted to get the most sleep out of the time he was given. Tiptoeing into the room he shared with Changbin and Felix, he found both of his dongsaengs knocked out in their beds. Changbin’s face looked so much more peaceful and his eyebrows weren’t furrowed in pain like they were earlier. Just to be sure, the leader quickly collected painkillers and a bottle of water and placed them on the rapper’s nightstand. Hopefully Changbin wouldn’t need them and would be fine when he woke up. Then he took off his shirt and slipped into bed, letting the softness of his blanket envelop him. As his tense muscles relaxed into the mattress, it took almost no time for sleep to pull him under.

Everything was dark around them, the music had just ended and now there was silence. No reaction from the crowd in front of them, the lightsticks turned off. Looking around, he found the terrified faces of his dongsaengs, waiting desperately for the usual cheers that they got after a performance but there was nothing, just a black ocean of silence and it was slowly drowning them. He hadn’t worked hard enough, didn’t produce good enough music. He was the reason his members, his brothers had to experience their first black ocean. When the first tears fell from the youngers’ eyes, Chan couldn’t take it anymore. This was his fault because he was a terrible leader, a terrible friend and a terrible hyung. He just wasn’t enough. His head started to spin and slowly got fuzzier as his throat tightened with the urge to cry. He felt like falling as the darkness swallowed him.

Panting Chan shot up in bed, still feeling fuzzy and still surrounded by darkness. He couldn’t see anything in the dark that surrounded him, he felt lost and alone as a sob tore from his throat. There was some quiet shuffling, which Chan couldn’t hear over his cries, before the darkness disappeared, illuminated by a bedside lamp on the other side of the room. Then there were arms around him, he wasn’t alone anymore. In the dim light, Chan blinked at his Aussie brother through tears and buried his face in the worried boy’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s okay mate. Whatever you thought was happening, it was just a dream”, Felix soothed in a low voice, running his hand up and down the older’s bare back. The only reply he got were more sobs and he looked over at his other hyung, who was still knocked out on the third bed in the room. Carefully, the dancer grabbed Chan’s arm and pulled him to his feet, guiding him to the living room. The leader was clinging to him like his life depended on him, like he would lose him in the darkness, that could return at any moment.

“Hyung, …too dawk – not enough”, Chan whimpered, while Felix tried to wipe the tears that just continued to run down the leader’s cheeks. Finally, it clicked and Felix realized the other had slipped into his headspace. He removed his hands from Chan’s face and let the little bury his head in his chest. Chan soon started to suck on the fabric of Felix’ sleep shirt, leaving a wet spot, and slowly his breathing evened out and the tears stopped falling as the only thing he focused on were Felix’ heartbeat close to his ear and the calming scent of his shirt. When Felix felt the other had calmed down enough, he whispered: “You’re okay now, kangaroo. It was just a nightmare, not real at all.” Chan nodded and glanced at the clock, realizing he had only had about two hours of sleep. Whining, he pressed himself closer to Felix, who chuckled and ruffled his head. “Want to try and sleep some more?”, he asked, ready to tuck the little back in. Chan shook his head and whimpered. He knew the bad dreams would come back to haunt him, if he dared to close his eyes again. The caregiver sensed his fear and turned on the TV, searching for a cartoon to distract the little. It seemed to work and Chan even tolerated him leaving the room for a moment. He wanted to get the little a hoodie and make some hot chocolate. The leader giggled cutely when Felix put the hoodie over his head and pulled the hood over his face for a second. When his eyes fell on the cup of hot chocolate, covered in marshmallows and sprinkles, he immediately made grabby hands at it and the caregiver had to remind him to slow down or else he’d burn his tongue. The nightmare long forgotten, the two Aussies enjoyed their cartoon and cuddled on the couch waiting for the rest of the group to wake up. Sure, Felix was tired and cursed having to get up early but it wasn’t earlier than necessary. If he could get up early for their schedule, he could get up early for his little too.

Before they knew it, an hour had passed and the members sleepily shuffled into the kitchen to quickly force down a small breakfast before they’d have to head to their schedule. Minho was the first to spot the two Aussies on the couch and approached them, asking what they were doing up so early. Felix sighed and sat up with Chan still in his lap, explaining: “Our little Channie here woke up about an hour ago from a bad nightmare and he was too scared to go back to sleep, so we just stayed here.” – “Oh, he slipped?”, the second oldest asked. They all knew about their leader’s headspace, although it had been a while since he last slipped. Felix nodded, whispering that it was about time after neglecting his little side for weeks. Minho could only agree and promised Felix he’d find a way to let both him and Chan stay at the dorm today. The leader wouldn’t like taking a day off but he needed to rest and hopefully being little would make him comply easier. After breakfast, Changbin sat down next to his roommates on the couch. “Don’t worry about today, Jisung and I will have it handled at the studio and Minho and Hyunjin said, they’d just teach you they dance moves for the new choreography some other time”, the rapper smiled, “Just please get our kangaroo here to rest because I’m honestly surprised how he can still go on with how little sleep he has had recently. It’s good he finally slipped, so he can let go of the stress for a bit.” – “I’ll try my best. Right baby? We’ll spend a nice day full of cartoons and naps”, the caregiver cooed. Chan bit his lip, feeling guilty as he watched his members leave the dorm for work. Memories of his dream kept resurfacing, despite being little, he could feel that he should pull himself out of it and go to work too because he wasn’t working hard enough. He was letting his brothers down who had to work harder now that he stayed home. He wasn’t enough.

Felix watched the leader’s face grow sad and was quick to pull him from his thoughts with a lighthearted hair-ruffle, laughing: “Let’s make breakfast, cutie. Hyungie hasn’t made pancakes in ages.” The dancer quickly mixed the batter together and let the little stir the finished batter, so he’d be occupied while Felix got the pan ready. Chan watched in wonder as his caregiver flipped the pancakes like it was the easiest thing in the world. Felix also chopped up some fruit and decorated the little’s pancakes with a cute smiley face, while simply stacking his own pancakes and adding some fruits on the side. He put the bowl of chopped strawberries into the fridge for later and carried the two plates to the dining table, Chan following him and clapping his hands excitedly. The first difficulties started when the little got emotional over having to destroy the cutely arranged food on his plate. Felix dried his tears and when the leader was ready to finally eat, he fed him his breakfast. After cleaning the dishes, they moved to the couch again to watch some more cartoons and nibble on the strawberries. The morning seemed to be going well, especially because Felix knew about the little’s love for strawberries and continued to feed him while watching TV. Sadly, the mood soon took a turn when the bowl was empty and he asked Chan to go brush his teeth. “Nuh! Nuh wanna”, the leader frowned, stomping his foot when Felix dragged him to the bathroom. After a bunch of threats and the caregiver counting down, Chan gave in and brushed his teeth but continued to sulk afterwards.

He sat on the opposite side of the couch from Felix and when the dancer asked for cuddles, he shook his head and shifted further away. The little hadn’t said another word to his caregiver and still didn’t feel like it. He was upset at him for making him brush his teeth and threatening to take his favorite plushie, a stuffed husky, away for the rest of the day. Suddenly, the screen in front of him turned black and he turned to Felix with a shocked expression. Felix sat there with the remote in his hand, giving him a challenging look and stating: “Wow, you’re finally looking at me.” – “Tuwn on!” – “No, mister. First you listen to me. You need to drop your attitude right now because you’re being cranky for now reason”, the caregiver warned sternly. Chan’s eyes started to burn. Felix wasn’t mad yet, just warning but his voice sounded scary. Felix sighed and set the remote down on the coffee table. He could see the other’s wobbly bottom lip, so he hummed: “What’s really going on, Channie? You’re usually so well-behaved and never cause trouble for your hyungs. This is not like the sweet little boy I know, so please talk to hyung.” The caregiver’s voice had gone soft and his face showed nothing but worry, so the little couldn’t do anything but break down. Felix opened his arms an invitation because he wasn’t sure the leader wanted to be touched right now.

Sniffling, Chan crawled into his caregiver’s lap and tried to absorb as much of the other’s warmth as he possibly could. Felix petted his messy curls, which felt so comforting that the little just melted into his touch. “Channie tiwed”, the little whimpered, “Nuh feel good, evewything huwts.” The dancer frowned, he should have known. His baby was extremely overworked and sleep deprived. He always gets a bit cranky when he’s tired and Felix couldn’t even imagine how tired the leader must be. It also didn’t come as a surprise that he felt achy from working so much and resting so little. The dancer rubbed his back and kissed his forehead, whispering: “I know, sweetie, I know. Do you want to take a nap?” Chan shook his head and sniffled a bit, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. “Insomnia?”, Felix questioned and the little nodded with a pitiful whine. Then the dancer had an idea. He stood up, koala-carrying the other to the bathroom and starting a warm bath. “It’s okay, Channie. Why don’t you take a nice and warm bath and relax for a bit? Look, hyungie got you a pretty bathbomb too”, the caregiver promised, pulling out a large purple bathbomb. Chan calmed down and removed his clothes. The warm water relaxed his muscles and he giggled when the water started to bubble from the bathbomb Felix had dropped in.

Soon the water had turned a deep purple shade and lavender scented steam drifted through the bathroom. Felix had left only for a second to get the little some fresh and comfy clothes but his heart broke when he saw Chan just laying in the tub and staring at the ceiling above. The bath toy, his beloved rubber ducky sat untouched on the rim of the tub, the little not having the energy to play. The caregiver placed the stack of clothes down on the sink and crouched next to the tub, humming: “Hey kangaroo, want hyung to wash your hair?” Chan nodded and with some struggle sat up, turning his back to Felix. The dancer took some shampoo and made sure to take a few minutes to massage the little’s scalp he also used some conditioner afterwards because he knew the other didn’t take care of his frequently died hair enough. Chan yawned when he climbed out of the tub, a large fluffy towel wrapped around his shoulders. He put on the clothes Felix had picked out and sat on the closed toilet lid while the caregiver dried his hair and applied some moisturizer to his face. “Want hyung to make you a bottle?”, Felix asked, guiding the little to the couch. Chan nodded and curled up with one of the cushions while the other went to the kitchen.

Felix still had hopes to get Chan to sleep, so he decided to feed him the bottle in bed. While the leader sat in the center of his bed indecisively, holding his plushie in his lap, the caregiver placed the bottle on the nightstand. Pulling his favorite blanket off his own bed, he smiled at the little: “Now, let’s get you all comfy. Hyung will lend you his favorite fluffy blanket to wrap you up all nice and cozy. You can cuddle Skye (plushie) and have your bottle.” Felix sat down against the headboard of Chan’s bed. He parted his legs and let the leader sit between them with his back against the caregiver’s chest. Then he pulled the blanket over them and tucked it around Chan’s broad shoulders. The leader was always a bit shy about his little side, so it was easier for him to drink from a bottle when they weren’t facing each other. Felix ran one hand through Chan’s damp curls to get him to relax and used the other to raise the bottle to the little’s face, who was quick to latch onto it with his lips. The more time passed, the more the caregiver could feel the little relax and by the time the bottle was empty, Chan had completely melted into him. Felix set the bottle on the nightstand and shifted them into a lying position, with the blanket tucked around them comfortably. The leader certainly seemed sleepy now.

They lay in comfortable silence for almost half an hour and Felix was certain that the other was asleep. At least till the boy on his chest whimpered: “Hyung, Channie nuh can sleep.” His voice was weak from exhaustion and muffled from the fabric of Felix shirt and the blanket. The caregiver’s heart broke. He had hoped so hard that his little was finally getting the rest he needed. “It’s okay, little kangaroo. You don’t have to sleep, we can just lay here and cuddle. Do you want hyung to read you a story?”, Felix cooed. He knew the harder he tried, the harder it would be to fall asleep. He pulled out his phone and pulled up a random bedtime story he found on the internet. Making sure to keep his voice low and his accent prominent, Felix started reading, a small smile on his face when Chan played with his fingers. The little seemed so fascinated by the dancer’s tiny hand that, like the tiny baby he is, he had to take it into his mouth. Felix got startled for a second but chuckled when Chan started to suck on two of his fingers. He really needed to buy the little a pacifier at some point, so he wouldn’t just take anything like Felix’ shirt, hoodie strings, his sleeves or Felix’ fingers into his mouth. Though it didn’t really bother him because he saw how at peace the leader looked and he wouldn’t dare pull him hand away. Felix almost squealed with joy when he finally heard soft snores from the boy in his arms but stopped himself to not disturb the little’s rare sleep. He kissed Chan’s head and put his phone away, whispering: “Alright, it’s nap time, baby.”

[toraodwaterlaw]

Taken Apart

Law has made his way from Minion to Swallow, where he has a fateful meeting with Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi. Now he has these three to deal with on top of trying to remove the deadly lead that riddles his body.

This is Pt 2 of a two part AU story where Cora survives Minion. Pt 1 can be found here. 6.4k, more of Law dissecting himself, so a warning for that. Otherwise, a happy ending after all that angst.

-

Law awoke much the way he had in the past few weeks— in pain and with a desire to keep his eyes closed and let it end at last. Just as he had all those times before, he dragged his eyes open regardless.

His brain felt fuzzy and his eyesight was fuzzier still. His cheek was pressed to cold earth, which played a sharp contrast to his burning skin. The familiar flicker of a fire painted his surroundings in shades of orange while the even more familiar scent of smoke filled the air. Was he still on the road with Cora? Was everything else just a horrible nightmare? But no, now that he was more awake, he could hear quiet voices. Voices that he didn’t recognize until suddenly he did.

A bear. Blood. Snow. Two gangly, cocky teenagers with bats in hand.

Law tried to scramble to his feet but he couldn’t find the strength. Instead he managed to slump against a rocky cave wall and mustered up his best glare for the pair of boys at the mouth of the cave.

“You’re awake!” the redhead said.

“We, uh, we were a little worried you might be dead,” penguin hat added.

They both took a step toward him. A growl from over Law’s shoulder stopped them dead in their tracks. The bear… Mink… Bepo was huddled at the back of the cave, teeth bared. He managed to look equal parts like he wanted to fight and flee. Despite his apparent fear, he’d edged enough forward that he was looming over Law.

It made something rare shift in Law’s chest. He didn’t understand. Bepo was bloodied and beaten, they barely knew each other, and yet the Mink was trying to protect him.

Law shook his head. He didn’t need protecting. He reached for his knife but it wasn’t there.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” redhead asked, knife held up hilt forward. Law made to grab it only to be outmaneuvered. “Not so fast. I’d rather be sure you aren’t going to stab us with this first.”

“I don’t need that to put you both down,” Law snarled.

“We know.” Penguin hat stepped forward and put his hand on redhead’s shoulder. “That’s why we want you to train us.”

Law blinked and shook his head, certain that he was hallucinating. “You— what? I don’t even… why would I…?”

He rubbed at his temples. He could feel a headache forming. None of this made any sense and he wasn’t in a mood to figure it out. The two loud boys weren’t deterred by his reaction.

“Look, I get it. You don’t even know us and we don’t know you. Well, I’m Shachi and this is Penguin.”

“Your name is…” Law dragged his hands over his face. “You have your name on your hat?”

He didn’t know why that stood out to him as the most absurd point of all of this. Apparently they didn’t think that was absurd either.

“What else would I have written on my hat?” Penguin asked.

Law opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. It wasn’t worth it. He turned back to Bepo instead. “They didn’t hurt you more, did they?”

Bepo looked to the others before he shook his head. “No. I’m okay.”

Law very much doubted that. The bear looked fine the way Law was ‘fine’ whenever Cora asked how he was doing. “I can help but…” He wondered how far his medical expertise would help him in this particular case. “You’re a Mink, right?”

Bepo small, black eyes widened. “How did you know? Everyone else thinks I’m just a monster.”

Law scowled. He thought of a city turned into a graveyard and of hospitals on fire. “I’ve seen monsters. I know monsters. You’re not a monster.” He grabbed his pack, glad that at least hadn’t been taken from him. There were some basic medical supplies in it but nothing for the wounds Bepo had sustained. “My— someone told me stories about Minks but I don’t know much about their physiology. I can only treat your superficial wounds.”

Bepo squirmed in place. “You don’t have to.”

Law ignored him and turned to the others. It was almost comical how much they perked up under his gaze. “You.”

Shachi pointed at himself. “Me?”

“Both of you,” Law replied. “You look like you know how to take care of yourselves. If you really want me to train you or whatever, you need to get some stuff for me first.”

“Whatever you want,” Penguin agreed quickly.

“Good to hear,” Law said. He held up his fingers and ticked off the list of things he needed. “I need a pot and water. Or snow. Whatever is easiest. Also bandages or a clean sheet. Clothing. Really any fabric you can get your hands on that I can make into bandages.”

“Anything else?” Shachi asked.

Law tapped his chin. He considered natural pain relievers. Many were dangerous in the wrong quantities and he didn’t have anything to measure. He also wasn’t sure he trusted these two meatheads to grab the right stuff. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“Food,” he said after consideration. “Whatever you can get. But no bread.”

Shachi and Penguin grabbed their bats. After a moment’s thought, Shachi grabbed Law’s knife as well. “Mind if I take this? For hunting. We’ll give it back.”

Law would have rather kept it but the possibility of meat was pretty compelling. He felt unusually hungry. He couldn’t think of when he’d last been actively hungry instead of simply willing to eat to placate Cora.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I can fight just fine without it, remember.”

Shachi smiled broadly. He was too easily impressed. Idiot.

“Alright,” the redhead said, “we’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yeah, we’ll only be gone a second,” Penguin said. “So no running off.”

Law glowered and waved them off. As soon as they were gone, he sank back onto the ground. He wanted to operate and try to get at least some of the lead out, but he couldn’t imagine finding the energy to form another Room. With any luck, food would help with that. He wished he’d ever bothered to ask Cora how using his fruit affected him.

“Why are you doing so much to help me?” Bepo asked.

Law rolled his head to look at him. “I dunno. It was just a whim, I guess. Maybe I just wanted to put those idiots in their place. Don’t think too much about it.”

Bepo stared down at his paws. He looked at Law, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Can I do anything to repay you?”

Law groaned. He didn’t want repayment. He didn’t want idiots following him around, begging to be trained. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted Cora back and he wanted sleep. Which…

“On top of my pack, there’s a bedroll. I’d get it myself but…” He gestured broadly. “So if you could spread that out for me, you can consider us repaid.”

“Right!” Bepo near shouted, suddenly energetic.

He undid the clasps that held the bedding in place and very carefully unrolled it by Law. Law got up on shaking legs. He barely needed to take half a step but it felt quite suddenly like a mile. When Bepo offered a helping paw, he was too tired to protest. He took it and lowered himself down with as much dignity as he was able, given the way he was trembling.

“Are you okay?” Bepo asked.

“I’m fine,” Law snapped. When the bear winced, he sighed. “It’s… don’t worry about it. I’m sick but it’s not contagious and I’m working on treating it.”

“Okay.”

Bepo didn’t sound so sure but Law would take mild disbelief over the shrieking he usually received. Come to think of it, Penguin and Shachi hadn’t seemed to notice the white spots either. Maybe he was just more lead than healthy skin at this point. It had been a while since he’d looked in a mirror. Fine by him if they assumed he was just that pale. Saved him some trouble when he had more important things to worry about.

For one, why was it so cold? There was a good fire going but he couldn’t stop shivering. He tugged the blanket around him and edged a bit closer to the flames. He knew from experience with Cora just how close to a fire was too close. He would still be safe at this distance, even if he decided to close his eyes for a moment.

He woke up without any memory of having fallen asleep in the first place. He must have, though, because Penguin and Shachi were back and the smell of cooking fish had filled the cave. The world was blurry again when he opened his eyes and he felt even worse than he had before. No matter what, he needed to start removing lead. If only he could so much as lift his head.

“You’re awake!” Penguin said.

“We saved you some,” Shachi added, holding out a skewered grilled fish for Law to see. “And there’s some other stuff, too. No bread.”

Logically, Law knew he needed the energy. Protein would be good for him if he was going to get anything done but the world was spinning again and he couldn’t get it to stop long enough to sit upright. To make matters worse, when he put the back of a hand to his forehead he found that he was running a temperature. That might explain the headache. Either way, those two idiots were being too loud.

A gentle hand at his back helped him sit up. Bepo. Law might have even thanked him if it didn’t hurt to so much as breathe at the moment. Instead he gave him a nod and took the fish from Shachi without a word. When Penguin offered him a canteen, he took that as well. His stomach threatened to revolt over both, so he squeezed his eyes shut until he was certain he would keep it all down.

“We got bandages,” Shachi said with obvious pride.

Penguin’s smile shone from beneath the shadow of his ridiculous hat. “And a pot of water, like you asked. Well, snow, but we melted it by the fire while you slept.”

They had indeed gotten bandages. Good ones, along with some other medical supplies Law hadn’t asked for, like a bottle of pain relievers. He didn’t know how they’d managed in the middle of the night but he wasn’t about to push the matter. He swallowed a few pills dry before portioning some out for Bepo.

“Take these and I’ll work on patching you up,” he instructed.

Bepo did as told. He sat entirely still despite the fact that his injuries must have stung as they were cleaned. Really, he was a much better patient than Cora was. The bumbling blond spent far too much time protesting that he was fine any time he was clearly not and he tended to fidget. It would have been ideal conditions, if not for the fact that every pair of eyes in the cave was watching him work.

“What are you looking at?” Law growled.

“Sorry,” Bepo murmured.

“We’re learning,” Penguin said.

“We said we wanted you to train us,” Shachi added.

Law paused to consider them. “I thought you wanted me to teach you how to fight?”

“We’ll learn anything you’re willing to teach,” Penguin replied.

Shachi nodded. “We’ve gotta make it on our own, so anything that helps with that, we’re down.”

Law opened his mouth to argue and then thought better of it. If they really wanted to learn first aid skills, good for them. He didn’t really care what they decided to spend their time on. He wasn’t about to waste his own time actually training them. Once Cora came for him, they’d be nothing more than a confusing memory.

He sat back and considered his work. He’d done what he could for Bepo. As it turned out, things had looked worse than they were. Blood was an alarming sight against the white of fur. Once it was cleared away, most of the injuries came down to cuts and bruises that would heal well enough on their own. That was a weight off Law’s already burdened shoulders. He might not care what became of Shachi and Penguin, but he’d have felt bad if he’d done a poor job tending to a patient.

He eyed the three of them and came to a decision. “If you want to really learn something, give me my knife back.”

Shachi took the knife from his belt but hesitated to hand it over. “Shouldn’t we have weapons, too?”

Law snatched the knife away before the redhead could react. “It’s not for fighting. I need to operate.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Penguin said, throwing up his hands. “Are you sure you should use that? It seems like a good knife but not for something like an operation.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Law replied as he pondered where to start. “I don’t even really need the knife, I think, but it helps me focus. I could probably just use my bare hands if I wanted.”

The two older boys looked aghast. It was enough to shut them up for the time being, which was all Law wanted. He decided his earlier instincts had been correct and that he would be best off starting with his feet. He most needed to remove the lead from his lungs and heart but he wasn’t about to start practicing somewhere so potentially lethal. Once he had a better grasp on his abilities, he would move onto the more vital regions of his body.

He started by removing his socks and boots, placing them aside, and then rolling his pant legs up to the knees. It was likely all unnecessary but it made him feel more like he was doing things the right way when he actually did something to prepare for surgery. Expanding the bubble of his Room also made him feel like he could really do this. Of course he needed its powers in order to operate but he also felt a sort of ease inside its confines. Everything around him was under his complete control. He could sense it all, from the small droplets of nervous sweat on the back of his neck to the unseen deposits of lead in his flesh.

With fresh confidence, he made the first slice and cut off his left foot at the ankle. His concentration was immediately shattered by a wave of shouting and flailing. Law sighed.

“Oh relax.”

Penguin and Shachi were both standing just at the edge of the Room’s border, as though afraid to let it touch them. He couldn’t see Bepo but he could hear a high pitched whine from behind him.

Shachi pointed accusingly at the disembodied leg. “Relax? You cut off your foot!”

Penguin emphatically nodded his head. “You’re gonna bleed to death and I don’t know what to do with a dead body. Wait… why aren’t you bleeding? There should be blood, right?”

Law rolled his eyes. He picked up his leg with his free hand and reattached it to the clean cut stump. “See? Fine.” He wiggled his toes once to prove his point before cutting it off once more. “I have a Devil Fruit.”

“Oooooh,” Shachi said. “I get it now. How’d you get it? That makes sense, though. That’s how you were able to kick our asses so easily.”

Law rolled his eyes. “No, that’s because you two are pushovers. Now shut up. I need to concentrate.”

Immediate silence followed and Law quickly forgot they were there at all. Now that he’d had a bit of food and rest, he didn’t feel as dizzy. It would be easier to enjoy what his new powers offered him. He felt so aware of everything that he likely didn’t even need to cut himself up… but where was the fun in that? He further dissected his leg so that he could better see the muscles and veins within. There was the soleus and the gastrocnemius, the posterior tibial vein and perforating veins. He could have examined it all for the rest of the day if not for the rapid depletion of his stamina.

Later. Someday after he was healed, he would experiment with it all to his heart’s content. Funny to think that finally felt like a possibility while he was sitting in a damp cave with his limbs chopped to bits before him.

First things first, he needed to cure the Amber Lead before it made the future an impossibility. It would be easier said than done. While he could sense it, the lead particles were too small for him to clearly see. He put the rest of his leg together so that he could focus just on his foot. His ability to manipulate things at will did little for him if he didn’t have the fine control to remove what he wanted from his body. He wished once more that he had time to obtain a specimen to practice on instead. Maybe the remaining fish? Or they might be able to catch something. The problem was, he was already so close to the edge. As had been the case for his entire life, time was his enemy. He needed to use what energy he had to start curing this thing.

He sucked in a breath to brace himself and closed his eyes. Despite all the trouble he’d gone through to see what he was doing, he could only focus well enough if he shut out everything else. He envisioned every bit of lead in the foot, ignoring the rest that lay in deadly wait in the rest of his body. Then, as he’d made the stick dance about earlier and as he’d tossed Penguin and Shachi aside, he moved it. Just one easy flick of his fingers and the lead in that foot was now on the ground.

It might have been easy to do, but it wasn’t so easy to endure. A sudden chill washed over him. He felt winded, as though he’d taken a sharp blow to the gut. He opened his eyes again and reassembled and reattached the foot before he lost his ability to keep up the Room. The sphere of blue stuttered, shrank, and then vanished. Law fell back onto the heels of his hands. He let his gaze slip to the side. Where he thought he’d put the lead, there was a small puddle of blood. That was probably bad. He’d need to work on his control.

“That was intense,” Shachi gasped.

“Are you okay?” Bepo asked as he extended a reassuring paw.

Was he? That had taken far more out of him than he’d expected. He was lightheaded and his arms shook as they held him up. “I’m fine.”

He couldn’t recall dropping his knife but he must have. He picked it up again. He raised it over his other leg and summoned the Room again. Before he could cut down, a gloved hand found his wrist and stopped him. He mustered his best glare— the one that would always send Baby 5 running— but Penguin didn’t shrink back.

“Look, I know we don’t really know each other or anything, but I’d really rather not watch you kill yourself, kid. Maybe you don’t need to be in such a hurry to make your blood exit your body?”

Penguin’s hand was trembling. Despite the front he was putting up, he’d seen what Law could do and he was scared. Good. Law jerked his arm free.

“You see all the white splotches on my skin?” he demanded. “You know what that is?”

Penguin only shrugged. When Law turned his glower on Shachi, the redhead shook his head as well. For a moment, Law was too taken aback to say more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone who didn’t know, let alone didn’t shrink back in terror when they saw.

He looked back at Bepo. The Mink simply stared back blankly.

“Really? None of you?” Law could hardly believe it but there wasn’t so much as a flicker of recognition in any of the faces pointed at him. “It’s…”  He almost didn’t want to tell them. He never thought he’d enjoy the freedom of being surrounded by people who didn’t know. “A poison. Lead. I was born with it in my blood and it meant I was never going to live to adulthood. I still might not if I can’t remove it. Soon.”

Penguin and Shachi looked at each other.

“Soon…” Penguin said.

“But not immediately,” Shachi finished.

Law sighed. The crackling dome of blue that surrounded them was banished. He had to admit it was a relief to stop. He was nearly spent. He was certain he could push on but less sure he would be able to work effectively with these three set against him.

He crossed his arms, unwilling to cede ground just yet. “Well, what do you suggest then?”

“You should sleep,” Bepo said. “If, uh, you need to.”

Shachi nodded emphatically. “And I can keep guard.”

“And if you’re in such a hurry, I’ll make sure you don’t sleep too long,” Penguin offered.

They sounded so earnest. Law didn’t get it. They’d only just met him. He could handle himself. And if he couldn’t, people died all the time. Maybe that wasn’t the way things should be but that’s the way they were. Flevance had gone before him. It would be so easy to follow. But… Cora wanted him to survive. He was so sure Law could live and be free and be something more than what fate had handed him.

“Fine,” Law grumbled. “If you’re all so set on it, I’ll rest for a bit. But only for a bit. There’s someone important to me who went through a lot of trouble to get me this chance and I’m not going to let him down.”

The three other boys bobbed their heads happily. So damned earnest. Law only just resisted rolling his eyes. He might not have resisted at all but as soon as he’d agreed to their terms, Bepo’s eyes had really lit up. No matter what they might think of him by now, Law wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t going to crush the young bear’s hopes.

“Actually, speaking of that someone,” Law added, “keep an eye out for a giant blond idiot lumbering around out there in the snow. He’ll be impossible to miss. He has a stupid black coat and can’t take two steps without falling on his ass.”

That raised a few eyebrows but they agreed. With that settled, Law kicked some dirt over the blood he’d spilt. It wouldn’t do for Cora to come back to him and see that. He also moved his bedroll to the other side of the fire. From then on, he’d be sure to try to cure himself in one place and sleep in another. An irrational part of him worried that the lead would leech right back into him if he got too close to it.

It didn’t seem like the others needed warning twice to do the same. With all that settled, he laid down and closed his eyes. Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t expected to sleep. He must have gone deep under, though, because the next thing he was aware of was being shook roughly.

“Hey! You’re not dead, are you?”

Law groaned and rolled over. “You keep saying that.”

“It keeps being true,” Penguin countered.

Law stretched out his limbs. When he sat up, he took a look at the foot he’d operated on. The skin was still extremely pale, with only small patches of tanned skin. It wasn’t white, though. Maybe that was hope. Maybe he really had gotten it all out and could someday start fresh. Maybe. But Law wasn’t one to hang his hat on possibilities. He was going to do what he could right now to remove every speck of lead, if he had to carve it all out.

He was feeling a bit stiff so he walked a short circuit around the cave to keep his muscles from getting too tight. That started a routine. He would move around, maybe take a step out to breathe the crisp, cold air, and then sit to operate. Each time he tried, he was able to get slightly better control. It meant he lost less blood in the process but it sapped away more stamina. Between that and the ravages of the Amber Lead, he barely had the energy to protest when the others would insist he stop to take another break.

He was able to get through three rounds of this— rest, stretch, operate, and repeat— before he passed out cold. He’d expected to awaken the way he had whenever he’d dozed off, with a shake from one of the others, but it was the bright light of day that woke him instead. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When he looked around the cave blearily, he saw that the fire was down to flickering coals. Despite that, he was surprisingly warm and he realized it was because Bepo had snuggled close sometime in the night. Penguin and Shachi were also snoring next to each other near the mouth of the cave.

Law wiggled his toes and flexed his legs. He might not have gotten as far as he’d meant to, but he’d managed to remove the lead from both of his feet and calves. They felt a bit odd. Without closer examination, he could only speculate. Likely the feeling was a mix of his powers, which seemed to bestow a bit of numbing, and of whatever damage he’d done in his rough job excising the poison from his veins.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Penguin said. Law couldn’t tell if the other boy had already been awake himself, since the bill of his hat hid his eyes. “Sorry. Would have gotten you up but you seemed pretty out of it. I was a little worried one of these times you really would be dead.”

Law clicked his tongue. “It’ll take a lot more than any of this to kill me.”

Penguin let out a soft laugh. “I’m really starting to believe that.”

Their conversation awoke Bepo, who snuffled lightly in his sleep and then yawned wide enough to show off every one of his sharp teeth. His ears twitched and his nose wiggled as full wakefulness returned to him. His ears flattened back when he saw Law looking at him.

“Sorry. You looked cold.”

“No, it’s…” Law frowned. He had no doubt he’d slept so long because Bepo was there. He’d felt as safe and warm as he did bundled in Cora’s coat. That was a hard feeling for him to capture. “Thanks. You did warm me up.”

Bepo blinked as though he was as surprised by Law’s open gratitude as Law himself was. After a moment’s puzzlement, he smiled brightly.

Shachi was the last to wake up. He stretched broadly enough to knock Penguin in the side of the head. “You were supposed to get more wood for the fire.”

Penguin bumped him back with his shoulder. “You could have done it.”

“I was keeping guard.”

“Yeah, great job with that.”

Their bickering and the small scuffle that followed almost made Law miss Buffalo and Baby 5. They hadn’t been friends, exactly, but the closest Law could claim in the last few years. Then there was Cora, who wasn’t a friend but something else. Something good. Something he could maybe put a name to, like family, if he was given the time. If Cora came back.

Law had been so focused on figuring out his new abilities and curing the Amber Lead that he’d forgotten his fear for a time. It all came back at once and hit him hard. His chest tightened. His heart squeezed. He couldn’t just wait any longer.

“I’m going out,” he announced.

“Wait.” Shachi had his eyes glued outside while he fumbled at his side for his bat. “There’s someone out there. On the ridge. Someone is coming.”

Penguin looked out as well and then yelped. “Holy shit.”

He scrambled to grab his own bat. They stood, bats raised, in the mouth of the cave. It was hardly an imposing sight but the fact that they were shaking really undercut any strong face they might have put up. A hundred possibilities flew through Law’s mind, none of them good. If it was any member of the Family, they were dead. 

“What do you see?” he asked.

Maybe they were dead but if he could get a good idea of what they were up against, he could at least put up a fight.

“It’s Doflamingo,” Shachi hissed.

Law’s stomach plummeted. Even if he wasn’t at death’s door, he wasn’t ready to fight Doflamingo. And what did that mean for Cora? Had he escaped so Doflamingo was forced to hunt for him? Or was he…?

Law couldn’t even think it. He shoved himself up onto his feet, collapsed, and got back up. Screwed or not, if Doflamingo had done anything to Cora, Law was at least going to get one good hit in. If there was an afterlife and they were lucky enough to meet up there, Law would have to apologize to Cora for dying so quickly when he’d promised he would survive.

His legs were still slightly numb from the surgery he’d performed last night. He did his best to ignore it as he stomped out of the cave, knife in hand. Shachi and Penguin scrambled after. They looked like they sort of wanted to puke but they were ready to fight. Maybe Law had underestimated them.

Up on top of the ridge ahead a massive, feathered figure was silhouetted against the morning sun. Fear and anger warred inside of Law. He was smart enough to know he was no match but he would fight until his last breath to avenge Cora. He used both emotions as fuel to summon up a Room. Then his eyes adjusted to the light so that he was finally able to see the figure clearly.

“Law!”

It was Cora-san. Law couldn’t even bring himself to respond. All the fight went out of him and with it, his energy. The Room vanished as he collapsed to his knees. Cora ran, then slid, then tumbled down the snow covered hill. Law let out a breathless puff of laughter despite the hot tears that welled up in his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. He’d hoped but hope had felt like an impossible, foolish thing for so long. To have it really happen, he could barely believe it.

Shachi and Penguin, bats held aloft, formed a barricade that stopped Cora from reaching him.

“Don’t move another step,” Shachi warned.

Penguin tightened his grip and nodded. “You might kick our asses but not before we take out your knees.”

Cora seemed to have only just noticed the other two boys. He looked at them, looked at the blood that still stained their bats, and then looked back down at Law. “I saw the blood in the snow back there. Did you hurt him?”

Cora’s voice was a low and threatening rumble. Law knew from experience that he at least wasn’t above throwing children. He probably wouldn’t hurt them but Law knew that he should probably interfere. He had to admit, though, that he was kind of interested in being on the other side of that for once.

“We didn’t do anything to him,” Shachi said quickly.

“I mean, we tried to,” Penguin added. “But he kinda kicked our asses.”

“Tch, you don’t have to tell him that.”

“What? I don’t wanna die for something we didn’t do.”

They’d completely taken their eyes off of Cora now and were busy bickering with each other. Law was almost embarrassed for them. Cora, for his part, just looked confused. Law decided it was finally time to intervene. He quickly dashed away the tears still pooled in his eyes and got to his feet once more.

“Look at his clothes, you idiots. That’s not Doflamingo.”

His feathered coat was not the vivid pink that Doflamingo notoriously wore but charcoal black. If that wasn’t evidence enough, sometime in the night Cora had traded in his bloodied outfit from the day before for a marine uniform. He’d also wiped his face completely clean, which admittedly did make him look more like Doflamingo rather than less, but that was the most shocking detail for Law. Even on the road, Cora had kept it up, perhaps with some vague intention of staying undercover.

“What kind of Marine wears a coat like that?” Penguin asked.

Shachi’s head perked. “Oh wait… blond. Tall. Black coat. This is the guy you said you were waiting for. He even fell on his ass like you said he would.”

Cora ignored the part where Law had apparently been insulting him and lit up at the rest. “You were talking about me?”

Law groaned. “Of course I was, you idiot. I was worried about you. Last time I saw you, you were full of bullets and off to fight Doflamingo.”

Cora blew past Shachi and Penguin, who at this point were too shocked to do anything about him anyway, and swept Law up into his arms. He hugged Law hard enough that it actually hurt, but Law didn’t care one bit.

Big, stupid tears were already streaming out of Cora’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Law sputtered out a wet laugh. He was crying again despite himself. That idiot. That monumental idiot. He was actually back. “Me? You’re the one who went to fight the Family alongside a bunch of stupid marines when you were already half dead.”

“Well, as it turned out, after they had their fill of the Barrells pirates and that cage came down, they ended up getting chased off by Tsuru. I think she’s still hounding Doffy as we speak. So I think I spent more time convincing them I was a marine than fighting. And I got patched up by some field medics. That’s part of what held me up in coming after you.”

Law frowned. He knew who Tsuru was but only because she’d so often chased the Family off one island or another. It was still weird to think Cora was working alongside someone like that. Weirder still to think he was probably the reason old Tsuru had always been on their tails. It was one thing to realize Donquixote Rosinante was a marine and quite another to have all the implications of that laid out for him. He would ponder all that later. There was only one part that concerned him at the moment.

“Marine medics? That’s who looked you over?”

“What? What’s wrong with that? I’m a marine, you know.”

“Let me look you over. I could do a better job.”

“I have no doubt you could but you were barely keeping conscious last time I saw you. I don’t want you pushing yourself, kid.”

“Yeah, well, I spent most of the night working on removing lead, so I’m fine.”

Cora held Law out at arms length, leaving Law dangling nine feet in the air while he faced down a radiant smile. “You did it? You figured out how to cure yourself? I knew you could!”

“I only started. I might have gotten it all out if it weren’t for these guys.”

Law jerked a thumb at Shachi and Penguin who shrank under the returned weight of Cora’s attention. 

“He was going to bleed to death,” Penguin argued.

“We were trying to help,” Shachi insisted.

Cora pulled Law back, snug against his chest. He raised an eyebrow that disappeared underneath his shaggy bangs. “Is that true?”

Law scowled. “They’re oversimplifying.”

“It seems pretty simple to me,” Cora countered. “Was the blood inside or outside of your body? You don’t need to be a medical prodigy to know that.”

“Some blood. I had some very minor blood loss when I started to remove the lead. I’m getting better at it each time, though.” He doubted the second part would matter much to Cora but he refused to let it seem like he was some incompetent hack. Cora only hugged him more tightly. It was enough to make his ribs ache but it felt good after thinking he’d never get to see Cora again. Not that he would say that out loud. “If I’m in danger of anything it’s that you’ll crush me to death.”

Cora ruffled the top of his head so that his hat was left askew. “Good to see you’re doing better, brat. Have you eaten anything?”

He posed the question not just at Law but at Penguin and Shachi below. This question more than anything else that had happened left them looking baffled. They looked over their shoulders as if expecting to see someone else there. When they saw no one, not even Bepo, they turned two blank faces up at Cora.

Shachi gestured between them. “Us? Have we eaten?”

“I don’t see anyone else,” Cora said with a soft chuckle.

“There’s also a polar bear Mink. Bepo,” Law supplied.

“Ah, well, he can come along too, if he wants. But yes, you two. I figured if you all spent the night in a cave, you might want something warm to eat. Then,” he said, turning his attention back on Law, “we can discuss just how much blood loss did or did not happen.”

Law resisted the very strong urge to flip him off and settled instead for sticking out his tongue. “Fine, as long as we don’t leave Bepo. He’s still my patient.”

“I’ll go get him,” Penguin offered.

“And I’ll get your stuff,” Shachi said, already on his way back to the cave.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Law squirmed in Cora’s grip so that he could really turn the full power of his scowl on the clumsy marine. “Don’t leave me like that again. We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

Law almost missed the stupid clown makeup. Cora’s big, dopey smiles almost seemed too bright without that dark edge around them. “I’m sure you’d manage without me. You’re a remarkable kid, you know.”

“I don’t care.” He couldn’t imagine what that would have been like, doing this all on his own. He knew he’d survived worse but he didn’t want to go through more. He wanted Cora with him, alive and safe and smiling. “Together.”

“Alright, alright. I won’t argue with you there.” Cora rested his chin on top of Law’s head. “Together.”

[professorpski]

Interweave Crochet, Fall 2021 and Farewell

This is the last issue of the magazine. Meanwhile, let me tell you the patterns I noticed which include a variety of shawl shapes, and shawls are something that modern crochet can really shine at doing.

The cover features Toni Lipsey’s Pruina Shaw which starts with a center ring and then spreads out with V-stitches and fan stitches into a generous triangle. It is made with the Sugar Bush Yarn Shanty which is a wool and linen blend. It is a 2 out of 4 in difficulty. Also on the cover in the little box is the simple (1 out of 4 for difficulty) rectangular Leaf Peeping Tee by Tracy St. John. It uses the linen stitch done in several colors of the cotton Omego Trigo which is a DK weight yarn.

The Morass Shawl in green by Natasha Robarge is a rounded crescent shape made with Malabrigo Yarn Sock which is a Merino wool. It is a 3 out of 4 in difficulty which must come from the complexity of the crescent and the small yarn, but it makes for an impressive outcome.  An accompanying article on reading crochet charts which uses the Morass Shawl’s chart may give you courage to try it if it is a bit beyond your current skill level. A simpler project is Opera House Top designed by Jane Howorth and done up Omega Mimosa which is cotton and rayon. They photographed it on a model wearing it over a camisole, but I am thinking you could wear it over a turtleneck and do it in a fuzzier luxury yarn for a winter look. It is simple rectangles for both the body and the sleeves which make it a 2 out of 4 for difficulty.

Lastly, I give you the teal asymmetrical triangular Salix Shawl by Hailey Hodge is a 2 out of 4 in difficulty and made with Sugar Bush Yarns Cabot which is a DK weight. So total 5 shawls, 4 sweaters, 2 cowls, a vest and an afghan and a tote. Also an article on granny squares and how to make them which goes along with the afghan.

You can find this issue at your local yarn shop, fabric store, or here: https://www.interweave.com/

On Friday, I will blog about what is replacing it.

[knitpool]

Free Pattern for you

Happy Sunday, all! I recently typed out the pattern I used to make my Nano Hulk. It’s the same as the knit-along, but without the pictures and probably more legible. (I’ve learned more about writing out patterns since then.) You can find the knit-along series by searching for #nanohulk. Please let me know if you spot mistakes or confusing bits. I’m glad to help.

The Nano Other Guy Pattern

Materials and Tools:

Fingering weight yarn in:

Green

Black for eyes, mouth, and hair (for the hair, you can use worsted weight to save time and for a fuzzier hairdo)

Brown (or other color for trousers)

Small amount of polyester stuffing

2.5 mm double pointed needles (or two circular needles) for knitting in the round

Darning needle

Crochet hook

Gauge:

Since this is not a garment, gauge is not as important. The fabric should be tight enough that the stuffing won’t show through – about 9 stitches per inch. If you decide to use worsted weight, I recommend 3.25 mm needles.

 Abbreviations:

BO = bind off

CO = cast on

inc = increase into next stitch (I usually use RLI – right lifted increase or LLI - left lifted increase, but any increase method should be fine. I have marked in [brackets] where I would put RLI or LLI.

k = knit

k2tog = knit two together

kfb = knit through front and back

p = purl

R = Round

ssk = slip 1, slip 1, knit slipped stitches together

sts = stitches

 Instructions:

Feet:

CO 18 sts

Divide to work in the round.

Round 1: Join and knit

R2: Kfb every stitch (36 sts)

R3-5: Knit 3 rounds

Start foot shaping:

R6: K1, ssk, k6, k2tog 3 times, k6, ssk 3 times, k6, k2tog, k1 (28 sts)

R7: K7, k2tog twice, k6, ssk twice, k7 (24 sts)

R8: K7, k2tog twice, k2, ssk twice, k7 (20 sts)

R9: K6, k2tog twice, ssk twice, k6 (16 sts)

R10: K1, ssk, k1, k2tog, k4, ssk, k1, k2tog, k1 (12 sts)

Start leg:

R11-14: Knit 4 rounds

R15: k1, inc [RLI], k10, inc [LLI], k1 (14 sts) [My preferred increase is RLI or LLI, but any increase should work.]

R16: Knit

R17: K2, inc [RLI], k10, inc [LLI], k2 (16 sts)

R18-23: Knit 6 rounds

Break yarn and place on holders. Knit another leg.

Body:

Redistribute the live stitches at the top of each leg onto the needles so the legs are side by side, and you have 8 stitches in front and 8 in back.

Round 1: Starting in the middle of the back, join yarn and knit 1 round to join legs. (32sts)

R2: K6, k2tog, ssk, k12, k2tog, ssk, k6 (28 sts)

R3-8: Knit 6 rounds

R9: K3, inc [RLI], k22, inc [LLI], k3 (30 sts)

R10-11: Knit 2 rounds

R12: K4, inc [RLI], k8, inc [LLI], k6, inc [RLI], k8, inc [LLI], k4 (34 sts)

R13-14: Knit 2 rounds

R15: K4, inc [RLI], k10, inc [LLI], k6, inc [RLI], k10, inc [LLI], k4 (38 sts)

R16-20: Knit 5 rounds

R21: K4, k2tog 6 times, k6, k2tog 6 times, k4 (26 sts)

 I usually sew up the bottom of the feet and crotch here. You can also stuff the legs.

 Head:

Round 1-6: Knit 6 rounds

R7: (k1, kfb, kfb) 8 times, k2 (42 sts)

R8-25: Knit 18 rounds

R26: (k2, k2tog) 10 times, k2 (32 sts)

R27: Knit

R28: (k1, k2tog) 10 times, k2 (22 sts)

R29: k2tog 11 times (11 sts)

Break yarn and thread through stitches, leaving a longish tail for sewing up. Finish stuffing the head, body, and legs. Pull tight and fasten off.

Make his neck by running yarn through stitches on the third round below the increases for the head. Pull the yarn to make a neck and fasten off. No need to make this super tight.

Arms:

CO 12

Round 1: Join and knit

R2: Kfb every stitch (24 sts)

R3-8: Knit 6 rounds

R9: K1, ssk twice, k2, k2tog twice, k2, ssk twice, k2, k2tog twice, k1 (16 sts)

R10: Knit

R11: K1, ssk, k2, k2tog, k2, ssk, k2, k2tog, k1 (12 sts)

R12-14: Knit 3 rounds

R15: K2, inc [RLI], k7, inc [LLI], k3 (14)

R16: Knit

R17: K3, inc [RLI], k8, inc [RLI], k3 (16)

R18-23: Knit 6 rounds

R24: K3, inc [RLI], k1, inc [RLI], k8, inc [LLI], k1, inc [LLI], k3 (20 sts)

R25-27: Knit 3 rounds

R28: (K1, k2tog) 6 times, k2 (14 sts)

R29: Knit

R30: K2tog to end (7 sts)

Break the yarn, thread through the remaining stitches, stuff and fasten off. Make an identical second arm.

Making up: Sew the arms to the body by pinning the arms to the body. Using a darning needle, pass a strand of yarn through the shoulder of one arm, though the body, and into the other arm. Go back and forth two or three times, then fasten off, hiding the ends in the body. Now is also a good time to make a little green stitch for a belly button.

Eyes and mouth:

Mark eyes with pins about halfway up Nano Hulk’s face with 4 stitches between each pin. Once you have them in the right place, embroider the eyes and mouth by using whatever technique works. I usually do three simple stitches for each eye and chain stitch a mouth. Don’t forget the eyebrows!

Ear: (Knit flat)

CO 4

Knit 5 rows of stocking stitch.

BO

Make 2.

Fold the ears in half, lining up the CO and BO edges. Sew to the sides of Nano Hulk’s head. Line them up  about even with his eyes.

Hair:

Cut strands of yarn in 4 in. lengths. I use worsted weight so that it goes more quickly. Fold in half and hook through the top of his head using a crochet hook in the way you might make a fringe or latch hook rug. You will have to give him a haircut, but using shorter strands is fiddley. There are probably other ways to add hair, but I like this because his hair ends up floofy.

 Trousers:

Trousers are knitted from the waist down, then divided, and each leg knitted separately in the round.

CO 32 sts

Round 1-2: Join and work 2 rounds of k1 p1 rib.

R3-10: Knit 8 rounds.

Divide for legs

R11: K8, CO 2 (for the crotch), slide next 16 sts to holders (to be knitted later), continue to knit remaining 8 stitches. (18 sts on the needles)

R12-15: Knit 4 rounds

BO

Add new yarn at side.

R1 (of second leg): K8, CO 2 for crotch, k8 to end of round

R2-5: Knit 4 rounds

BO

Sew in ends, and sew up crotch. Dress your nano!!

 Contact me at knitpool@gmail.com for questions or comments!

©Tanglepenny LLC (2021). Provided for fun and personal use only. Reproduction for sale or profit is not permitted. For further information.