#drafting paper texture

[bolognamayhem117]

Sometimes you sacrifice an hour to make a cool backdrop for making blueprints.... For tiny tiny houses.

Free to use without credit.

[restinpeacesensei]

i have drawn a birthday picture for akoya every year for the past 11 years! ;;w;; i imagine that every time i do, he gets a year older!

and now, it's canon!! the boueibu characters really are 10 years older! and akoya officially has a gorgeous dress!!! \>////</ congratulations!!! \TWT/

we would prefer not to pick favorites or receive comments about how the art has changed, but to think of every picture as a precious memory! ;;w;; do you remember them all? ;;o;;

akoya-chan!!! thank you so much for being with us for all of these years!! \;;/////;;/ ive loved you, ive found how to be myself through you, i know now that everything always ends up being okay. im so happy ive been able to share these years with you!! ;;~~~~;;

akoya, and all of you, thank you so much for all the beautiful memories!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY ANGEL!!! \>//////</ WE LOVE YOU FOREVER!!!! \;;W;;/💖💖💖

[krawdad]

Brain: do a big illustration with brush and ink

Me: only if you can figure out some way to do it without holding myself up

[goatgoesmbe]

THANK YOU!!

Hi, it's simons petty gf anon.

Just a thought, because she's only passive aggressive with her anger but always in a kind way simon is worried that if a physical altercation would happen that she would freeze up. But in reality, she's the dirtiest fighter he's ever seen. (Both of my parents were cops, military grandfather, youngest of 3 only girl) she has no honor in her fighting style, when asked about it, she says there's no honor in a fight. Only life or death.

Alright, ive been wanting to write this properly- but its been sitting in my draft for too long i just need to get it out so- no beta, I hope u still like it tho <3 u_u

All i could think about when i read this is the meme 'call the ambulance, but not for me'

short continuation of this

tw : assault, mention of violence, mention of blood, stalking

You were Simon's sweet little bird. Known to always be kind to everyone, even to the worst assholes, even to people who didn't like you.

And while you appeared to be nice and patient, with a smile that never faltered no matter what you've gone through, he eventually learned that you were not a pushover despite what everyone thought.

You could stand your own ground, you had your own way of dealing with people who disrespected you.

However, that didn't mean Simon would be less protective of you

Because the world wasn't a safe place, there were things far worse than a little quarrel with strangers, arguments with your mother, an altercation after accidentally bumping into a stranger, or verbal harassment.

He was thinking about real danger.

You were always so soft and gentle, so naturally, it triggered his instinct to protect you from any harm.

That was why he was the way he is right now, heavy boot putting it's full weight on the gas, the sound of the engine rumbled loudly, cutting through the night. Hands gripping on the steering wheels while his eyes were sharp, focused. While his ears fell deaf to the blaring of the other cars honking as he sped past them.

"Simon. Can you send help? I think i'm being followed.. can't really talk or call 911 myself rn" Your text read.

He was lounging at the couch when his phone buzzed. Content on watching the football game that was playing on TV, only to drop everything when he saw your message.

You were having a girl's night out with your besties at this women-only club that had just opened in the city. While he was one protective bastard who always wanted to watch over you, you insisted on him staying home because you wanted to spend the night with just your friends. It was reasonable, so he agreed.

But now? he regretted agreeing to that.

Tires screeched against the asphalt, making a sharp, piercing sound that sliced through the air followed by a loud slam of the door as he stepped out of his car.

With his gaze blurry from dread, he looked at the screen of his phone. He had a tracker planted in your devices, smart watch, laptop, phone. And so he followed the red dot shown in the map, finding himself standing in front of a dark alley.

"Simon" He couldn't be more relieved when he heard your voice and immediately took a few steps into the darkness, turning on the flashlight on his phone before aiming it forward.

The air was thick with the lingering scent of sweat, iron, and damp asphalt, mingling with the distant stench of rotting garbage. A dented trash can lay on its side, its contents spilled and trampled, a mess of torn paper and shattered glass glinting under the weak light. Blood stained the ground in dark, irregular splotches, soaking into the filth of the alley floor. The brick walls bore fresh smears where hands had braced against them, the rough texture now streaked with sweat and something darker.

And at the bottom of said walls, a lone figure was sat. Beaten and stripped off his shirt which was now ripped and used to tie his arms behind his back. Said figure didn't react at his presence, but Simon could see the subtle raise and fall of the person's chest.

"Simon" You called out to him again, snapping him out of his thoughts as he shifted his gaze to you.

You stood there with a smile that he always saw on your face, which was now sported with a fresh bruise, purple blooming beneath your skin. A dark welt shadowed your cheekbone, and a small cut on your lip still glistened with fresh blood. A smear of crimson streaked your jaw—and he didn't know if it was yours or someone else’s.

Your clothes were a mess, your skin tight dress were wrinkled, clinging to your curves like they had been grabbed one too many times. The faint imprint of a handprint marred the fabric near your collar, evidence of the struggle that had just unfolded.

And knuckles were raw, the skin split in places, thin trails of blood tracing along your fingers. Which told him what he needed to know.

Because despite your battered appearance, it was nothing compared to the state of the git who was leaning against the wall.

"Called the ambulance yet?" You asked, gesturing at your victim with your chin.

He didn't know if he could fall in love with you even more, but somehow, he just did.

[slytherinshua]

MY HEART RETURNS

summary. your love is pursuing his dreams as a violinmaker in italy, leaving you to wait for his return. genre. slight angst. fluff. based on whisper of the heart. warnings. some crying. reader feels lost and alone and like she's not good enough :( not proofread. pairing. zhanghao x fem!reader. wc. 1.3k. request. no. a/n. tiánxīn = sweetheart btw. ofc hao is already perfect for the role of seiji cause he plays violin (also he looks like seiji fight me). for all the other writers out there (even tho i don't ever plan to get properly published) we all relate to shizuku so much :') her struggles are so relatable and i just love whisper of the heart so much i think its such a beautiful and underrated ghibli movie. divider by @/aquazero.

The night air nipped at your cheeks as thoughts swirled in your head. Hundreds of worries, feelings, and uncertainties followed you wherever you went, and all you could wish was to be back in high school when everything felt a bit easier. Back with Hao to occupy all your thoughts and in turn take your mind off of everything.

Sometimes you wondered if waiting was really worth it. You were doing your best to pursue your dreams, do well in your final year of university, and throw yourself and your work at different publishers, hoping that one liked you enough to give you a chance. But you felt like a constant failure in comparison to your boyfriend. You’d always thought opportunities were more beneficial than school. Hao only seemed to prove that to you.

He was working in Italy, getting valuable skills from the masters. You were still stuck in your hometown, going to the same university everyone else in your family had gone to, trapped in the same system. You wanted to get out, prove yourself, do something meaningful with your life. But did you even have the talent to? Were you even worth it?

On nights where your thoughts just wouldn’t leave you alone, you grabbed a handful of Hao’s letters and walked up the hill back to the spot where you used to watch the sunrise with him. You missed him more than anything. Without his presence, you felt lost. There was no one to ground you, no one to reassure you, no one to believe in your flimsy dreams.

You hadn’t received a new letter in a while, and you were starting to wonder if it was a post issue, or if Hao was too busy to write. You hoped you would get one soon. It was the start of Winter already, and a breeze blew past you, causing a chill to run up your spine. You hugged Hao’s old jacket closer on your body. It must be even colder in Italy…

You slid one of the old letters out from its envelope. You were always careful to keep everything intact. From the colourful wax seals to the elegantly written address, to the coarse texture of the fancy paper, everything about it was precious to you. Hao was always meticulous, and his presence could be felt from every detail of the card.

Tiánxīn, how are things back at home? Lonely. 

How is your writing? Did you finish the last 3 chapters you were struggling to write? I finished the final draft last Saturday. Are you proud of me?

I’m doing well here, although I never stop missing you. At least one feeling is mutual. 

It’s the beginning of Spring as I write this, and the flowers are starting to bloom. Every pink bud reminds me of you. How are you always so romantic, Zhang Hao?

I taught some kids how to hold a violin properly the other day— one of them almost dropped it. I swear my life flashed before my eyes. If they had broken it, I could’ve gotten kicked out. They don’t know that they’re handling a piece of wood worth thousands of dollars. As much as it scared me in the moment, spending time with the kids cheered me up. Childhood innocence is an endearing thing, don’t you think? It is. Is it bad that I wished you had gotten kicked out just so I could see you sooner? I want you to tell me everything about Italy with your own voice.

I’m starting to find beauty in things that used to annoy me. It’s a strange feeling, but I think I could get used to it. The flowers used to only make me sneeze, but now they’re a gentle reminder of who I’m living every day for. Children used to get on my nerves, but now I can only think of your baby pictures. I keep working hard every day hoping that I’ll get a break to come visit soon. I’ve been saving up for tickets. Hopefully before Winter, I’ll be back in your arms. It’s Winter now… I miss your arms around me.

Ever yours,

Hao

You could only sigh and blink back the tears that had formed on your waterline. Why did he make you miss him so much? You sniffed, from the emotions and from the cold. It was getting even later in the night, and while you didn’t want to leave your special spot, you also needed sleep.

When you got back to your cheap apartment, you sprayed some of Hao’s perfume on your pillow and changed into pyjamas. It was funny how much time went into hunting for the exact fragrance he wore; but you had been thankful for it every single day since you bought it. Any way you could to bring traces of him back to your home was worth it. You fell asleep hugging the pillow tightly and hoping that he would grace you in your dreams. 

A soft puff of air hit your nose making you scrunch it up. It woke you out of your slumber, but not enough to open your eyes yet. You were in a confused bleary state trying to figure out where it came from. You definitely didn’t leave the fan on in the middle of Winter, so why…?

“Tiánxīn, wake up.” 

You blinked your eyes open slowly, furrowing your eyebrows as the view came into focus. Light from the morning sun shone through the window, cascading down until it hit the side of a face. Hao’s face.

“Am I still dreaming?” You whispered. A lump formed in your throat at the thought that you were— you must be. How could he be right in front of you? He was still far away in Italy.

He shook his head, a smile splayed on his lips. He moved closer, his weight dipping down on the bed. You could only stare, memorising everything about him. His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to your hand and he reached to hold it. His hands were warm and the skin of his palm was soft, although his fingertips were roughened by calluses after years of playing strings. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, brushing his thumb against your skin.

“I missed you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to come visit.” He frowned slightly as he saw tears start to build in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, as if still deciphering whether he was actually real. It had truly been years since he had first gone for his apprenticeship and then got accepted full time to make violins and teach. Although you had communicated through letters, it could never compare to being with him like this. 

“It’s okay.” You tried to steady your voice, force the lump in your throat down, blink back the tears. But you couldn’t with him right there.

“Don’t cry.” He wiped your tears carefully, his touch soft as always.

“Kiss me. Please?” 

And he obliged. He would always do anything within his power to see you happy. If you told him one day to fly to the moon and bring you back a piece of it, he was sure he would find a way, just to see you smile. The feeling of kissing him again was indescribable. You’d forgotten how it felt to be kissed by his soft lips, how they melded with yours like a dream. As if you two were meant to be.

You knew you always were. Your love story, although it sometimes felt tragic, was like something out of a fairytale. You would never forget the lengths Hao went just to get your attention. How ambitious, determined, and caring he was. He was your constant motivation to keep striving to be better. 

It was hard to live for your dream while being so far apart from him. Part of you knew that he would have to go back. Maybe in a month, maybe in only a week. Maybe sooner than that. Your heart would break once again saying goodbye to him.

But, for now, as he kissed you in the morning sunlight on your bed, you felt your heart healing from his touch. The long years away from him were a small price to pay for moments as precious as these. 

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @nicholasluvbot,, @stantxtforabetterlife

[loustica-lucia]

DATV - 🎹Moonlit Duet✨(Comic)

A comic I sketched in early december 2024 when I first saw Zach Mendez (Lucanis' VA) playing piano on an Instagram story, I had to draw it! It took nearly 4 months but it's there!💜

(Lucanis Dellamorte & Alba de Riva/Rook)

PS. Alba looks so weird without makeup. Like, he's younger somehow??? lmao But hey, it's supposed to be during a sleepless night, so he removed his makeup. Only a few people has seen his bare face like that ♥

Timelapse/Process:

(with music and ambient sounds)

The first draft was doodled with tiny thumbnails on paper, then I make space for the speech bubbles, revamped the sketches, did the lineart, added each colours and added textures with shading ♥

[purpurkatart]

Hello! After having some time to get over my loss for the Pokemon TCG Illustration contest, I decided to write up a small blog entry about the process and include some WIP pictures. Feel free to look below if you want to read my ramblings on the process.

Idea Generarion-

So coming into this contest, I knew I wanted to make a mixed media piece. In terms of theming I chose something that not only reflected a “magical moment” for a Pokemon (in this case meeting a legendary Pokemon), but also a moment when playing the games myself. In fact this piece was inspired by my awe when I first encountered a box legendary in game, as before I thought my teacher was lying to me when he said you can catch the legendary on the box!

This is the concept sketch that started it all! At the time my main concern was getting ideas down and seeing how they looked. Thinking about things like how would the composition would look, how would the colours look. So on and so forth.

I didn’t want to focus too much on the sketch and wanted to start making the physical object, so out of some cheap paper I started making a set up testing out size, scale, composition. I didn’t want to get too attached to the original sketches only to realise I couldn’t make it in real life… I went though a few drafts trying to get things right, slowly adding in aspects such as background objects and higher quality drawings.

After completing the draft I bought the images back into procreate to experiment with colours. This is the point where I made the mistake of thinking I had plenty of colours to choose from, not realising I would be limited by what I could buy from various yarn shops. That or hope I could find the right colour online, but that was always a gamble. If I don’t stop talking about this now I’ll get sidetracked talking about how much I miss yarn shops…

Anyways, I cut out the individual pieces that I would make within the background and used them as a guide for crochet assets. For this part I wanted to use different stitches to create textures such as the ripple stitch, bobble stich and some cable stitches, I feel bad as I never took any work in progress photo so of them. Let’s pretend you’re looking at a photo of a half finished crochet abstract shape.

Finally onto the main event, the Pikachu (and Suicune). The decision to make Pikachu a plush was based on what I would have liked to make for the 2022 illustration contest (if I wasn’t geographically challenged!!) Despite being British I decided it would be fun to make anyways, so I could experiment. I never got around to that but decided it would be fun to try for this edition.

Making the pattern was HARD! As I wanted Pikachu to have a unique pose, I had to work out different methods to plush i’ve made in the past which have been somewhat relaxed in their posing. I ultimately ended up making each part individually, pinning it together and then making adjustments as needed. It didn’t start out great however I ended up with this weird Pikachu shaped thing that did the job. Throughout this process I would regularly photograph it in the background to try and catch any issues early on. For example if the ground needed to be a different shape.

Photographing the final price was interesting. I felt bad for my partner as I essentially turned my dining table into a mini photography studio! I spent several days waiting for different lighting opportunities and experimenting with different light. Marking down different camera angles to ensure I have all of my bases covered. I easily took over 100 photos to get the perfect shot! In the below photo you can see washi tape being used to rest out different positions for the sculptures.

And that leads me to the peice! Even though i’m sad I didn’t make the top 300, I am pleased with the work I did for this piece (and my flygon entry too!). I’m glad I decided to experiment with ts peice and look forward to refining my methods in the near future!

[pforestsims]

Here's mesh replacement for TS2 Drafting Table By QuicKraft (career reward).

TS2 FreeTime Drafting Table

Default & recolours

Download: MEGA | SFS New polycount: 3121 (was 3472)

My replacement does not affect original drafting table texture, however I've edited TXMTs to make it less shiny. My new recolours will work for original table as well.

*Note: transparent glass shown in the main pic is a new subset hidden inside the worktop. It has some some blending issues with the drafting paper, glass seems to overlap the drawing - just so you know.

*Note to 🏴‍☠️ UC users: if Drafting Table in your game is not recolourable, try replacing mesh default with this (SFS), it's almost a full clone, only without the main texture, so it's compatible with texture defaults.

*This is for The Sims 2

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 23. Pear Trees

Summary: Benedict wasn't a passing fancy. Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 2,005 Listen to: 'Losing My Mind' -by Betcha A/N: I promise it's the last dramatic chapter besties, we're moving to Genovia and Genovia's plot is FUN -Danny

Dear Diary,

The pear trees are starting to bloom. I'm spending most of my late afternoons promenading in our garden to revel in their scent, pondering what I can do to make my training more adequate to our present times.

Mum has a few ideas, but I would like to bring something of my own. If only my mind could cooperate and let me have useful thoughts instead of reveries concerning something long over...

Benedict divides his attention between the nonsense his fellow artists are doing in their intoxicated state and the sketchbook in hand, an abstract draft he's been working on for days and still can't satisfy him.

"What are you doing, curled up in that chair like a sulking crow?" Calls one of his friends. "Come have a taste," the man offers him a small bag.

Benedict huffs dismissively at the offer, though not in a way that could be seen as rude—only glutted. "I'll pass, gentlemen. I need a clear head if I want to make any sense of this blasted commission," he sighs, glaring at the paper.

One man, a jolly, bug-eyed fellow named Gustave, waves at his sketch drunkenly. "You're new to being favoured, that's what. Rich folk don't care if you do a good painting, they'll say it is merely because of how much it cost, and everyone will agree because it's art, and they don't get it."

"Is that supposed to motivate me?" Benedict raises a brow.

"Go to Hyde Park and sketch a horse; the lords go mental over manly beasts."

"Just like you, Marcus," Gustave teases, earning a burst of laughter from the group. "You could always paint the Queen's residence. If it's Royal-related, they never dare to show disappointment, even if they want to."

Benedict chuckles. "Well, aren't you all connoisseurs of shortcuts and fine print? All those are clever ideas, but here is the issue: I want to do my best."

They groan and roll their eyes, flopping back on the chairs and rugs with fatigue. Gustave insists. "Do your best for men who can't tell the difference between shading and texture? Commissions are money, Bridgerton, and it's perfectly alright to not put all your care into it."

"If I were desperate for money, I would finish as fast as possible and take the next offer, but I have enough in life to do this for fun—and what is the point of a painting if I won't do what I like to hone my skills?"

"Professor Bridgerton, reasoning his art," a younger student called Louis teases him.

"I value my efforts, that's all. If you think it's okay to stunt your growth as an artist, do as you please. I made a promise to be good."

"To your princess?" Gustave questions slyly.

Benedict is an expert at hiding when the princess gets mentioned, though it took some practice. "My mother, actually. She's decided to let me be until the weariness of my siblings' weddings goes away. Hopefully, it'll last a year or two, and in the meantime, I won't behave in any way that makes her think I need a spouse."

"Oh, how would she know if you're slacking?"

"Isn't it enough that it would weigh in my mind?" Benedict grins.

Gustave eyes him weirdly. "Hefty thoughts in you, Bridgerton? I never thought I'd see the day. This whole renowned artist thing... I'm not sure it's meant for you."

The sound of ripped paper cuts the conversation short. Benedict crumples up the page and tosses it into the fire, glancing at the man with a colder demeanour. "Eat your mushrooms, Gus."

The group leaves him to brood in a silence he hasn't been able to escape since the season ended. Anthony and Colin are enjoying their wives, and Daphne wouldn't be a relief to have around even if she visited—she's so much like their mother, sticking her nose in everyone's business and trying to convert everyone into her married lifestyle...

Francesca and Eloise can't send letters fast enough to keep him distracted. Gregory is away at Eton, no doubt putting on the airs of an aristocrat amongst his mates. Hyacinth, who could be a comfort, is only willing to discuss with whoever ends up trapped in the same room as her for longer than five minutes dresses, possible ball invitations, and all those baby-faced suitors who will be out at the same time as she.

In short, all his family has transitioned into a new age, yet his Academy friendships feel as if they've been dropped in amber, unchanging and frustratingly comfortable in this idle state, and Benedict, after years of longing to live how he yearned for ever since he was old enough to understand himself, knows that this boredom and impatience are symptoms of a single ailing: Y/N's absence.

The idea of taking the throne had constantly been looming over you like a villain that one day would smother you with a pillow in the middle of the night, but now that you're here, you realize this is rather... lackluster.

You love the audiences with the subjects discussing petitions and problems, you meet new faces and feel a little closer to the real Genovia... but the hours spent at the Parliament drag on like snails, not because they're confusing to you, but because your mind tends to wander, and it always takes you to the same person, the same few interactions that made your body tingle just to have no real relief when you come back to the present.

Every day after your lessons, you walk around the castle's grounds, sometimes ride your horse, a sturdy Spanish mustang called Reaper, and don't return until the sun is setting. Your days are so full of activity you can hardly draw, but every day the itch gets stronger—the rush it gave you whenever you'd manage to create something beautiful was like nothing else, and yes, if you had to admit it, it's the only thing that makes you feel as if Benedict were still around.

"There you are," your father's voice startles you.

You smile, the heaviness in your heart forgotten for a moment. "Father. What is it? Did the twins cause trouble again?"

"If they had your mother and I would handle it. They're our sons, after all," he reaches out for you invitingly. "Walk with me."

You accept, happy to have company. Your dad walks you with a tender smile, but he keeps his eyes forward, a sign that something's in his mind and he'll make it known. He takes you to the archway where the pear trees end and pretends to examine the leaves in one while talking.

"You've been coming here often. Is something troubling you? If your lessons are wearing you down—"

"I'm keeping the pace far better than I thought," you soothe his worries, happy to not be lying. "I'm spending so many hours indoors that I have grown quite fond of my walks, that's all."

"Your drawing lessons used to take place outdoors," he remembers, "perhaps you grew accustomed. When your mother was a princess, I would call on her, and we would take long walks until dinner time..." King Nicholas glances at you, threading carefully. "Friendship is difficult to renounce, especially when the company is akin to ourselves."

"I miss drawing," you nod, thinking it will nudge your father away from his suspicions. "It was liberating, being able to put whatever I wanted on paper, whatever I felt like doing with my time..."

"What of that diary of yours? Do you still write?"

"It's not the same," you look down in embarrassment. "I can't write everything... I know that once I'm dead, people will find it—and there are some things I do not wish to share."

"But you can, in art?"

"You can do anything in art," your gaze brightens. "You can paint something and hide a whole meaning in it—like speaking a secret language."

King Nicholas regards you a moment, and then, very gently, he asks, "That painting Mr Bridgerton sent you... Is that an example of it?"

You gulp, then get very serious. "Father..."

He speaks bluntly. "Your mother might've been distracted, but most times, I can get away with standing next to her and not having to pay attention to the conversation so I can keep an eye on you four. I saw you during that first ball when you met him. I saw the way he looked at you, and that was not how a stranger acts in front of a princess."

"How was he acting?"

"Like he knew you not in the way subjects do, but as we know you, Y/N."

"We became friends swiftly, yes," you say, starting to feel cornered. You realize this is probably how Ben felt when you began poking into his private life. "He did tell me once that he admired me, and the painting was his way of showing it."

"You'd seen that painting before." It's not a question, but it still demands you to respond.

"Yes." 

"When?"

"Halfway through the season. I can't recall the exact time." You look down again, a telltale. You can lie and keep appearances with subjects and parliament members alike, but you'll never grow out of giving yourself away when fibbing to your parents.

"You grew fond of him," King Nicholas states. "You don't walk the gardens looking for ripe pears—you're trying to make something bloom in barren ground, Y/N, you can't find here what he gave you in London."

There is so much sympathy in his words and expression that your eyes get misty, and for the first time in months, you allow yourself a minuscule thought: Benedict wasn't a passing fancy. "Are you upset?" You ask in a small voice.

"Depends," he caresses your cheek. "Were you reckless?"

You shake your head, blinking back the tears. "I kept things under control with such precision that now I won't ever see him again... and I think I broke my own heart as a result."

"My girl," your father says, pulling you into a tender hug. "If you decided it was the right thing to do, then so it was. Your heart will heal."

You sob quietly. "I think I might've loved him if I could've." You cling to your dad. "But I know I can't."

He rubs your back in gentle circles. "Walk your grief for as long as you have to, my sweet. Until it tires out."

"Until it dies," you sniff, stepping back and wiping your tears.

Eloise comes back after six whole months away. She's eager to see her family and hand out parcels, but half an hour has barely passed when Benedict shows up disheveled and grumpy.

"About time," he greets her. "You know how long it takes to plan a journey with no specific date of return? It's going to take us a week at best, and by then, the season invitations will have started, and you'll be lucky if our mother says yes to even a week away from London society—"

"Hello to you too," Eloise replies with a grin. "Eager, are we? Are Hyacinth and Gregory no longer fun—I suppose not, now that they're in such a tiresome age..."

"Eloise, can you please focus?" Benedict presses sourly. "You're the one who wanted to run off to Genovia, and yet you're in no rush to secure this trip!"

"Oh, Mother will say yes. It hasn't been a year since Colin and Francesca married, and now Pen is withchild, and Kate is bringing home the future viscount. She'll be happy to be left alone to dote on Hyacinth—been a while since she had a child this eager to enter society."

"That... might be true," Benedict slows down for a moment but quickly returns to his anxious state, pointing at her in accusation. "But the weather acts up during this time of the year and—"

"Good heavens, would you listen to yourself?" Eloise laughs. "You're sounding like Anthony, talking about weather and whatnot. Be honest, brother, you're eager to see the princess again, even if it's just in passing."

"I will throttle you—"

"Eloise!" Their mother and Hyacinth have returned from their calls and rush to greet the girl with open arms, interrupting their conversation.

They take Eloise away in a whirlwind of excitement, leaving Benedict with a buzzing in his head that sounds eerily similar to your voice.

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Taglist.

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[simp-ly-writes]

Friend of the Captain (pt.2)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader

Summary: Years had past since you had last seen Eddie. Doctor, CEO and soon to be girlfriend of another man. You end up seeing him at Freddy and Tammy's wedding yet other forces keep pulling your both away from admitting to your feelings. What will it take for one of you to see the truth?- as Charlotte ever so indelicately puts it.

Warnings: 3755 words, utter jealousy, language, and light teasing, angst to potential fluff and lots and lots of pining.

A/N: I have watched an unhealthy amount of edits while on dinner break- I must be stopped (gods i'm supposed to be on break!)- this is way longer than I was expecting it to be, perhaps even a part three...

Masterlist | Taglist | somewhat un-edited.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Years had past since you had last seen Edward. You still kept in contact with his siblings and his mother, of course. Lady Sabrina refused to let you go- often sending various treats and letters towards your family's estate, you called her ever other week with updates to your studies, travels, and love life. Your mother teasingly voiced her jealousy towards her best friend choosing her own daughter over her best friend.

↳ You often joined the older ladies out for a dinner or lunch with Charlotte tagging along when she was not in school (yet you would never tell Charlotte's parents otherwise to you signing her out as a trusted guardian and taking her even out of the country some weekends). Clicking your glasses together while looking down upon the busy London streets, you smirked seeing someone wearing a piece of yours from across the street.

Tugging at your mothers dress-sleeve she trued around in her seat, grasping your hand in a tight squeeze of excitement and pride as her wrist glittered in your newest bracelet collection. After finishing your PHD of Business Administration you took a fake name to hide your identity for the public and papers for as long as you could. You often blushed now- seeing your face on gossip articles with your date of the evening.

Dinner tonight was a celebration of your recent contract with an up-and-coming movie star- he would be wearing your necklaces on the red carpet by the end of the week. A bottle of bubbly, bubbled your laughter to the surface as they all screamed in your ear, jumping up and down and clapping their hands in the restaurant as you ducked your head, trying to stray away from the attention.

↳ Unknowing to you though is that your's and Edward's mother collected all the gossip magazines, continuing their bet as Sabrinas heart fell every time you looked so in love with your new partner. Charlotte would often make side comments about your "slut era" she called it as you knocked her shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes before your mother swatted your shoulder at the dinner table and insisted on maintaining appearances in the public eye.

--

↳ When inside your studio-office space, drafting up new designs with your creative team. You spun around of your chair and became shocked when you eventually rolled back around to find a wax-sealed envelope with the Halstead crest so beautifully stamped. Peeling away the wax as carefully as you could, the thick, textured paper settled nicely between our hands as you read through the invitation. Tears beginning to well in your eyes before you were squealing in Freddy's ear through the desk-phone as he winced and handed the phone over to Tammy. Both laughing over your childish excitement to their own wedding.

↳ You called the brainstorming off early, rushing to help Tammy find just the right dress later that afternoon as she thanked you for assisting with the wedding planing (already fed up with Lady Sabrina's input into the event- though she was funding a large portion of it due to Freddys... interesting resume).

↳ Wedding dress shopping happened later that spring as you teared up seeing the woman in white. Helping her into your exclusively design accessories and veil. Later that day, you third-wheeled the couple during cake testing- eating double of your weight in sweets as your teeth ached afterwards.

↳ During the bridal party. You all got dressed up in small red dresses and matching heels as you style one another's hair and got your nails done for the evening. You all went to a bar to start of the week strong, you had never felt so carefree and young after the countless sleepless nights of being a CEO and Doctorate student- you really let yourself go that night. Waking up in the bed of a stranger who wrapped their muscled arm over your waist.

Trying to wiggle your way out of their grip and find your various articles of clothing spread round the downtown flat, you ended up stealing one of their shirts- not bothering to look at the design plastered on the front as you placed your phone on to charge and started breakfast.

The oven dinged, the eggs were done as you put out a spread across the countertop before doing a light clean of last nights activities- doing your best to put away things where you thought they belonged and were stopped halfway by an arm pulling you back into their chest and placing a kiss against your forehead, "thank you, love. Didn't have to do any of this at all- I appreciate it very much."

A blush spread over your cheeks as you led them towards the still hots plates and ate together. There name was William from your foggy memories of last night. By the groaning the man in front of you was excepting while pouring himself a coffee, he seemed as well wasted as you were.

"Can I get you any Advil or orange juice?" William asks, placing a coffee in front of you with a smile as you wipe your mouth and take a small sip. "No, I'm alright." When washing up the dishes together, he offered to place your things in the wash while making small talk throughout and even going for a round three later that morning.

Becoming lost in the bubble you both formed for yourselves, hands casting through the short strands of dirty blonde hair that tickled your palms. Your heart dropped in the slightest bit when his phone rang as a show you were both listening to in the background was paused. He whispered a sorry towards you, patting your knee before taking a stand and walking over to the bedroom, you could only hear the start to the conversation, "Captain, everythin' alright?"

Deeming yourself overstaying your welcome, you walked towards the hall bathroom, preparing yourself for the next day and left a small note with your name attached, softly shutting the door behind you before leaning your forehead against it. A stupid smile showing itself across your features as your hands drifted through your contacts, landing on Charlottes picture as it dinged for a few moments.

"Girl, where the fuck have you been since last night?"

"I think I'm in love Char," you stated while the elevator doors closed behind you and the busy city streets awaited you.

--

↳ In the remaining days of the bridal party, you all rented out a vineyard, playing various lawn games with sunbathing by the pool. You subconsciously looked up towards the glass doors of the modern home- unknowing of what you were expecting before returning to your book, humming along to the radio as Tammy splashed you with her dive. Drawing a quick 10 score on your phones notes app and presenting it to her, Charlotte snorted and did a dive of her own as you all laughed and enjoyed the warm weather.

--

↳ Your did frown later that night when William had yet to text you, throwing your phone onto the bed. You really have to get yourself together, you thought to yourself- waiting here on some guy... some guy that treated me fairly. And in this day and age, it was a rare sight to find. Charlotte had already given you a major thumbs up as did the rest of your university friends and some of the past boyfriends you still kept in contact with. They all approved.

↳ Looking into your suitcase, you picked up Williams freshly washed shirt- you had forgotten to return it as your head drifted towards your phone. A perfect excuse to see him once more, your fingers drifted over the keys, breath paused on the send button before tapping the green arrow in a split second. Your adrenaline soared as you ruffled your hair, huffing out and looking at the shirt once more.

Your fingers drifted over the warn edges, pausing at the left breast pocket before your eyes went wide in shock. Displayed was the same coat of arms as Eddies regiment, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Was all you could think, hands now gripping at your roots as that text now burred your phone and your mind. It was the night before the wedding at by the looks of it, you were going to be up with your thoughts.

--

↳ The day of the wedding at arrived, you smoothed out your dress as you waited in front of the large wooden doors to the Halstead estate. The wedding was being held in the gardens- now in full bloom as the first week of summer sprang into season. The blush pink complimented your rosy cheeks as you sweated lightly in the blissful heat, everyone had already been partnered up and as the maid of honour- you were more than worried that Freddy's best man had yet to appear

Much to your shock, Edward slowed his steps, feet tripping over the blood red rug beneath your feet as he stumbled to a straight stand by your side. He dropped his gaze down towards your shoes, taking a long drag up of your form before casting you a charming smile. The voices around you soon became muffled as your gaze fell onto his broad shoulders, the scar against his chin and you wondered if the scar you left from throwing a rock at his head while children's was still behind his ear in the same place you remembered it to be.

He wore a navy suit, crisp white shirt underneath as his tie held small pink flowers- perfectly matching your dress. He picked up your hand, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a light kiss to your gloved hand. You were ever-so thankful for purchasing the matching gloves in this moment, holding that the material hid your light shakes from his reassuring hold. His hand soon slipped up your arm. Breath hitching as strings began to play in the background.

His fingers drifted to the skin left uncovered by your tall gloves and dresses arm before looping his arm with your own. The doors soon opened as you both faced forward, smiles plastered on brightly as you walked in perfect rhythm down the isle. You looked towards one another, a few gasps being hear distantly in the crowd yet you couldn't bring your eyes to see where the sound came from. Arms dropping as you continued separately to your respective sides.

Looking up towards the clear blue skies, letting out a breath, your gaze turned to find Freddy looking at you, soft smile on his face as he gave you a singular nod before turning to his wife who began her walk down the isle. You took her bouquet, tears streaming down your eyes as you silently sobbed in happiness for the couple.

You clapped when they kissed, cheered as Freddy dipped her as Lady Sabrina tossed a comment on their outrageous display yet you haded her the bouquet as she shut her mouth abruptly, turning quickly behind to stare at your mother who was already watching as you and Eddie walked down the isle, arm and arm. Your gaze solely focused on the couple, unknowing to the man on your arm who stared at you the whole time- enamoured by your happiness as another stood in the back isle's, rose in hand they stole from the gardens as they waited for the festivities to start.

--

↳ As the first dance had finished and the cake had been cut, the DJ started to turn on the selected playlist and you headed straight to the bar in order to hug the newly weds who had a mission of getting absolutely wasted by the end of the night. After chatting with them for a few moments, a cough from behind you has your eyes going wide as does everyone else in the general area who stops to watch

You pause, drink slipping through your fingers as they catch it just in time with a smirk. "Hello, love," William speaks in hushed tones, knowing of the curious glances around you. Your eyes fly across the white warm-event weather uniform he wears. The sharp colour of his blue pants matching his eyes as your mouth soon falls agape. He takes a hand, lightly underneath your chin as he closes your mouth, pressing a kiss to the side of your lips.

Your eye's drift over to his shoulder, looking at his rank as you return a kiss to his cheek in greeting, now taking the barstool behind you as he leans against the bar top, taking his hat off and setting it between you. "Why hello there, Lieutenant," you say before taking a sip of your drink to gain some liquid courage as the eyes around you both begin to turn back to their personal conversations.

"You know my rank?" he questions with a raised brow as you shrug your shoulders. "Have close friends in the military as well, memorized all that chest candy," you state, eyes now darting across the metals he displays. Williams chuckles, ordering himself a drink as the bartender nods in confirmation as you both ease into conversation with one another.

--

↳ Eddie currently talks with his family as Freddy perks his interest. "Did you see that guy she's been talking to at the bar?- dude is seriously laying it on thick." Freddy rolls his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter, hand pressed against the white uniform as the man looks down to your touch with another teeth-filled smile. Charlotte shrugs, stealing a sip of Eddies drink as their mother quickly steals the wine glass from her and returns it to Eddies open hand who tries to peer over Freddys shoulder as he continues on and on about the bachelor party he had.

Eddies eyes go wide, seeing the white uniform, seeing you pressed up against another mans chest as he spins you lightly, eyeing you up and down and how your dress twirls at your feet as you get both of your glass topped off once more. His gaze hardens as he catches Williams face, his arm drifting around your waist, mouth pressed to your ear as he kisses your skin teasingly- eyes darting towards the door as you look up at him through your lashes.

Eddie's hands turn into fists, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to take a step forward yet Freddy still mindlessly talks as nobody is now listening as Charlotte begins to fill their mother in as she looks towards her son with concern. Hand ghosting on his arm that he has yet to take notice of. He watches as you bite your lip, pulling at his collar as you trace the seams of his uniform. Eddie lets out a sharp breath of air as he seems your lipstick begin to stain his skin, his mothers hand now tight against his arm as he stares down at it.

Charlotte shakes her hand, Sabrina now walking away to talk to your mother sat in the corner conversing with Tammy's parents. Freddy had finally taken notice of the lack of attention, returning to his wife's side as they stole bites from the cake before the official cutting. When Eddie turns back to see where you went, the bar is empty the door swinging closed as he speedily walks towards the hall only to find it empty both ways. As he begins to walk, a cough has him turning around to find Charlotte taking off her heels as she leans against the wall next to a suit of armour.

"Thought that you two were not together, no feelings right?" she presses, gaze determined as she slips off the last of her heels and begins to walk towards her brother who's shoulders only rise in their tensed form. He shakes himself off as she stands directly in front of him, shaking off his suit as he adjusts his suit-cuffs. "No, still is the case- just worried for my childhood friend is all."

"Alright, then..." Charlotte takes notice as his eyes keep darting back down the hall behind her, hope and hatred bleeding through his eyes as she smirk's, going in for the jab. "...If thats all you care about, he's a good man- that not right Captain?- They fucked a few times..." Charlotte presses her heels into her brothers chest as he keeps them there. His sister signals him to follow her outside as they begin to stroll towards the gardens all those Christmas's ago.

"She even told me she's in love with him-"

"What?" Edward asks in a breathy tone, his heart dropping as his sister continues walking further into the gardens and towards the centre fountain. "I warned you before Edwina, she's too good to have to wait so others take action. You had your time with her it seems, now it is time for someone else to take your place." She ends with a bittersweet smile. "You know... I always hoped she would become my actual sister- mom too but a best friend is better than nothing at all, right?"

The sharpness of her words twists itself deep in Edwards heart as he staggers, shoes dropped to the gravel beneath his feet, hands clenching at his tie that now seems too tight, his breathing laboured as he starts to see blood flashing on his hand and across his face. He hears your laughter filling his ears, the smell of your conditioner flooding his nose as it drifts off with the evening air.

--

↳ When Eddie returns to his work on boarder patrol, checking various people and their cars through the checkpoint. He enters the change-room at the end of every night, giving a nod and handing off his gun towards another officer who would be taking over the night patrol that evening.

↳ He often see's William changing as he enters, his shift ending 30 minutes before his own. He looks at the mans back, the angry red ail marks clawing their way up to his shoulders as the muscles his his back flex when a shirt covers up majority of the markings yet this shirt is old and warn. Having lost a great deal of his green colour, now a muted muddy colour as the neck hands low.

↳ Edward see's the the hickeys you undoubtedly left across his collarbones and neck, he recognizes that bite from the occasional moment you both shared as teenagers. William nods towards his superior officer outside of working hours. Picking up his jacket before moving to the sleeping quarters. Eddie sits on the centre bench, elbows against his knees, hands in his head as he grips and tugs at his hair. Frustration eating him alive as he imagines your touch, your lips against his own, the taste of your skin-

↳ Every day the same, every vacation time taken at a similar point as he notices a year afterwards the diamond ring hanging off Williams dog tags. He constant has been looking at it underneath his uniform throughout shifts, smiling before his mask returns as another car pulls forward. Eddies brain was struggling to come to cope with the images of that small ring hanging off Williams neck. He cursed himself alive as Freddy punched him square across the face when he drunkly ranted towards his brother a weekend he spent back home

↳ When he returned back to base, the ring he had around his dog tags was gone. William nodded towards the Captain as usual, that little display now irking him- pouring more fire into the gaping wound he sustained as the lieutenant paused. Face turning over his shoulder as eh spoke out into the empty change room, "I have been requested by management to switch towards the front lines... It has been a pleasure working with you sir. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, William. Do take care of her," Eddie states, looking at him square in the eyes. "Till the day she loves me no longer and afterwards," William promises before gently closing the door behind himself. Eddie does now feel himself crying before he calls his mother, not saying a word as he cries, she cries, as he can feel his fathers disappointment, his sisters distaste, and Eddies side remarks.

↳ But why stop at that? Eddie was soon being called back for your engagement photo, he glared at the ring on your finger. It's small for a jeweller, he thinks to himself yet had already bought the ticket, a gift and written a card voicing his congratulations to you both.

--

↳ Edward was beyond confused to walk into the empty venue space a few months later. Handmade stars hug above his head, a tray of champagne by his feet as the lights were dimmed, the afternoon sun finding its way through the blinds casting patterns onto the hardwood floors beneath. In his steps, the floors creaked as your tearstained face meet his eyes. He walked faster, taking a kneel beside you as you flung yourself into his chest as he dropped the gift, kicking it aside and held you tightly to himself. Hands beginning to drift through your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

He felt your tears staining his sweater, the rapid spikes of your shoulders as you sharply breathed between sobs. "H-He, He cheated on me! I fuckin' love another man and he cheats on me!" you wail, shaking your head into his neck as he rubs your back. Eddie holds himself from question the slight hope at, love another man.

"I am sorry to hear that darling, you are the most underserving person of such treatment I know. Downright motherfucker," Eddie whispers into your hair before you fall backwards, tugging Eddie by his shoulders to join you laying on the floors. You both stare up into the various stars coating the ceiling as you squeeze your hand in his own larger one.

A few moments pass as you listen to each other breathe in the empty room. Rain slowly begins to fall against the window panes as you turn your head to already find Eddie look at you with a soft smile. "Thank you, Eddie, for staying here with me... you're the best friend I could ever ask for," you speak out softly, hand resting on his cheek as he turns his head to kiss your palm.

"Always."

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly

[imperfecpixel]

Alright, it's my turn LOOK AT IT! IT'S SOOOOO CUTE AHHHHH!!!!!!!

The last thing I expected was for him to see it!

hang on now I can do...

Full Color! I figured you'd go with a lighter pastel but, did not expect a pink-orange it fits them really well. :D

also

I really loved the speech bubble so I used it to practice linework hope you don't mind. (:

mr.smiley was absolutely delighted when he saw the drawing as he's not used to being the one that is receiving gifts so you made him quite bashful as a result!

He appreciates and thanks you for the gift @imperfecpixel

[mythosidhesdollhouse]

Shibajuku Anime: Akira (Pt. 2 - The Review)

The nitty-gritty breakdown promised in Pt. 1. This post was an absolute drag to work on, but I'm glad to report I did at least find a few nice things to say. Precious few.

This is such a hilarious joke where do I even begin--

Alright friends and enemies, let's get this over with--

Cursory overview of the packaging: Forgot to take a closeup of the front before I removed her from the box, but it doesn't matter much since she's pretty accurate to the stock photos aside from her hair being several shades lighter than I was expecting (my first grievance).

Vague but threatening, bordering on nonsensical. Sounds like it was written by Chat GPT.

The array of blinding whiteness we discussed at length previously. (and no I will not collect you all, indeed I will be deeply shocked if the other three dolls in this line ever see the light of day)

Okay enough of that, let's get into the actual DOLL. For better or worse I am somewhat surprised to report this appears to be an entirely new sculpt. Not just the head, the body as well. The new one was clearly modeled after the original, but there are enough minor differences to convince me they made completely new molds for most if not all of the parts.

The face has the most obvious differences. The first thing I noticed when handling her is that the material Akira's head is made from is softer than Yoko's. Her cheeks are more rounded and less angular, her nose and mouth are smaller, and her eyes are smaller and more forward facing. The eye chips and lashes appear to be the same material that was used on the previous dolls, but the design of the iris and pupil have changed drastically, and combine with the overall revision of the makeup to give the new dolls what I suppose they thought was a more 'anime' look. Personally I prefer the wider, colored brows and glitter eyeshadow seen on Yoko, but I think Akira's stronger cheek blushing is an improvement on the old look.

The differences in the face sculpts are even more apparent in profile. Overall I think I actually prefer the new face. It's like a revised and updated version of the first draft we got on the original dolls.

Might as well drop a word about the hair while we're discussing the head. They appear to both have the same fiber--either very low end nylon or poly, I admit I'm not well versed enough to tell the difference--but Akira's rooting is much sparser than Yoko's.

At first glance not much to note about the new body appearance-wise, but upon closer examination we find the elbow and knee joints are cut differently, and the material(s) they are made from are not the same. While Yoko's entire body appears to be made from the same shiny hard vinyl throughout, Akira's torso and legs are made from a matte vinyl, while her hands and arms are rubbery and slightly pliable.

Akira's hands are smaller than Yoko's, and her arms are slightly slimmer.

Same hilariously tiny feet. If you check the backs of their knees you can see how the joints aren't quite the same.

Ok the sigh has returned. We're getting to the point that really bummed me out. You may have noticed the staining on Akira's arms in some of the earlier photos. Let's take a closer look.

The marks go all the way around on both arms. I suspect the blame for this lies in equal parts on the rubbery plastic her arms are made from, and the absolute shit material of her dress. OMG THIS EFFING DRESS. Sure it looks fine--Nice basic lolita silhouette, cute graphic elements, plenty of lace and ribbon trim--but the material it's made from is just nasty (and no not in a good way like Ms. Jackson). It's....crispy? Crunchy? Honestly the only way I can think to describe it is cheap, plasticky paper. It doesn't feel like fabric at all, and it's easily the worst tactile experience I can remember having with a doll garment. If you are sensitive to abrasive textures trust me you do not want to touch this thing. It made me physically cringe. And on top of all that unpleasantness, it's not even colorfast!

Her other pieces are fine. Shoes are fine, socks are fine, headband is actually better quality than anything else here and is the only thing that redeems the ensemble for me. With all her kit on Akira is decently cute enough to hang out with the other dolls I have on display at the moment, as long as I don't have to touch her.

Yoko's outfit is relatively simple by comparison, but it's made from NORMAL, soft, non-crunchy fabric, has some nice lace and metallic details on the skirt, and features the iconic Shibajuku cat socks, which are this brand's greatest (only) contribution to the wider doll community. Best of all, NO STAINS. Yoko has been wearing these pieces for eight, nine years? I've never bothered to redress her. Not a single mark on her. Call me crazy, but I'll happily take simplicity over a more elaborate design made with poor quality material that actively harms the doll.

That's it! I've run out of things to say. I got Akira with a $5 discount code Walmart sent me for posting a review of another doll, and I still feel like I overpaid. I don't hate her--you all know I love weird looking dolls, and for all their flaws I find these girls rather sweet (if derpy)--but I am just plain old mad at all the corners Hunter Toys obviously cut to make these dolls as cheaply as possible. It's an insult to their customers and their dolls.

[spitefulsatanfics]

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

S W E A T E R W E A T H E R

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

❝ You’re the one person that I can count on. ❞

— Sam Winchester, Season 5

> Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (She/Her) Word Count: 5,670 Tone: Autumn Cozy, Crush to Confession Rating: T (Emotional vulnerability, soft romantic tension, cuddles) Written by: Little Devil ♡ Based on: Mid-Season Canon (Season 8–9 era bunker)

Synopsis -

She wasn’t supposed to stay. A few nights, maybe a week at most—just enough time to heal, research, and get back on the road. But the bunker started to feel more like home than anywhere else had in years. And Sam? Sam made it too easy to stay lost in late-night lore, warm drinks, and soft glances she wasn’t supposed to notice. One chilly evening, she borrows a sweater. She doesn’t mean to keep it. And he doesn’t mean to fall for the sight of her in it. But everything shifts the night he finds her asleep in the library, still wrapped in his scent and silence. He thinks she’s dreaming. She’s not. And his confession might just be the one thing she needed to hear.

─────────────〔❉〕─────────────

The first morning frost had crept across the Impala’s windshield, pale and glimmering like breath on glass. Autumn had arrived, subtle but sharp, curling into the corners of the Men of Letters bunker and making the stone halls feel colder than usual. She’d felt it in her bones the night before—how the draft slipped beneath door frames and over exposed skin.

She didn’t have many clothes with her. Hunters never did. She’d planned to be gone by now, anyway.

Instead, she found herself still here.

Still safe.

Still… close to him.

Y/N padded barefoot down the hallway in the early evening quiet, wearing leggings and a too-thin tee, arms crossed over her chest as goosebumps prickled her skin. She didn’t intend to snoop. She was just looking for a blanket or something warm.

But the drawer in the guest hallway wasn’t linens—it was clothes.

And not just anyone’s. Sam’s.

The sweaters were folded neatly—of course they were—stacked by shade and texture like a catalog. She hovered a moment, eyes scanning soft greys and forest greens, before fingers hesitantly tugged free the thickest one.

It was dark charcoal, cable-knit, and hung past her thighs when she pulled it on.

It smelled faintly of cedar and something warmer—books, maybe. Him.

Her fingers disappeared inside the sleeves.

She didn’t put it back.

---

The days grew shorter. The sweater stayed.

She tried not to think about what that meant.

Sam never said anything—not when she wore it to breakfast two days later, not when he saw her curled up in the war room with a lore book, sleeves swallowed past her wrists.

But she caught him looking.

It wasn’t judgment or annoyance. It was something softer.

And that made her nervous in ways a monster never had.

---

─────────────〔❉〕─────────────

The library smelled like old paper and cinnamon tea. One of the bunker’s vintage lamps cast amber light across the stacks, and rain tapped softly against the bunker’s steel door above. Y/N had been reading for hours. The book in her lap was heavy, text faded at the edges, and she hadn’t turned a page in at least ten minutes.

The sweater—his sweater—was wrapped tight around her frame. She’d tugged her knees up to her chest, curling into the corner armchair with a blanket folded beneath her. The sleeves fell over her hands completely now, frayed slightly at the cuffs from how often she wore it.

Eventually, her eyes drifted closed.

---

The creak of the library door stirred her, not fully—but enough to register footsteps.

Sam.

He paused in the doorway, a folded blanket in hand, fresh from the dryer by the smell of it. His flannel pajama pants hung low on his hips, and the black henley he wore clung to his chest in a way she was trying very hard not to notice, even in her haze.

His hair was damp. A post-shower softness to him.

He stopped a few feet away, expression unreadable.

She thought maybe he’d walk away. That he’d drape the blanket over the back of the couch and leave.

Instead, he stepped closer. Kneeling, he gently pulled the blanket up over her legs. She stirred slightly—just enough to murmur his name.

“Sam?”

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, voice soft. “You looked cold.”

Her eyes fluttered open halfway, heart thudding. “M’sorry. I didn’t mean to crash here.”

“It’s okay,” he said. His gaze flicked down to the sweater. “You… look comfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to steal it.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled—quiet and fond. “You look good in it.”

A pause stretched between them.

He crouched there, fingertips brushing over the knit fabric at her wrist, lingering just slightly too long. “You should wear my clothes more often.”

Her breath caught. She blinked up at him, lips parting—but nothing came out.

“You said that like you’ve thought about it before,” she murmured, finally.

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin tingled where his fingers grazed her temple.

“I think about a lot of things I shouldn’t,” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“You. In this bunker. In my sweaters. In the morning. Drinking coffee.”

Her heart twisted.

“That doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t think about,” she whispered.

Sam swallowed. His voice dropped to something quieter. “I’ve spent years losing things I care about, Y/N. Sometimes it feels like I’m cursed to.”

“You’re not cursed,” she said softly, sitting up straighter. The blanket pooled at her waist. “And you haven’t lost me.”

He looked at her then—really looked. Like maybe he was afraid she’d vanish if he blinked.

“You stayed,” he said.

“I did.”

His fingers brushed her knee, tentative.

“I don’t want you to go,” he admitted.

“Then ask me to stay.”

“Stay.”

She leaned in—kissed him gently, barely a whisper of lips.

When they pulled apart, her head rested on his shoulder, heart thundering against his chest.

And just like that, she didn’t need the sweater anymore to feel warm.

---

─────────────〔❉〕─────────────

They didn’t talk about it the next morning. Not right away.

She woke in the same chair, the blanket still wrapped around her legs. Sam had fallen asleep on the floor beside her, book still open in his lap. His hand was resting on her ankle like a tether.

She smiled.

When he finally woke, bleary-eyed and blushing faintly, he offered her coffee without a word.

It wasn’t awkward.

It felt natural. Like maybe they’d already been doing this for a long time without realizing it.

---

That afternoon, she found another sweater folded neatly on her bed. Different color. Still his.

There was a note tucked beneath it in his scrawl.

> You looked cold. Thought this one might fit even better.

Also, I liked the kiss. Just in case that wasn’t clear.

– Sam

She pressed it to her chest.

And stayed another week.

Then another.

And eventually, she stopped counting altogether.

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

E N D

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

Tags: #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #autumn fluff #bunker era #cozy sam #emotional slow burn #sweater weather #canon compliant #sam x reader fluff #soft confession #hunter reader #bunker domesticity #spn fanfic #midseason sam #third person reader insert

[6okuto-moved]

I LOVE YOU (NOT IN A CLICHÉ WAY)

akaashi x gn!reader | a love letter from him to you! i forgot i wrote this for myself as a supposed birthday surprise so. i guess that worked out for me

the thing about clichés is that at some point, you stop feeling anything at the sight of them.

yearning, infatuation, love so tender and whole that it wrapped around someone completely and sunk deep, deep, deep into their skin and bones, into their veins where they felt it was the same as the oxygen already flowing through—i need you like i need air to breathe.

the same idea repeated over and over until the point of akaashi’s current existence—where he sits, favourite blue gel pen in hand, with at least seven crumpled pieces of paper in the bin next to his desk and the light of his lamp more of a headache than anything—until it no longer feels like enough for whatever he feels for you.

he curses every film and novel for making oxygen too little, too mundane of a comparison for how fundamental you are to his existence.

five hours. five hours he’s been sitting here, reading poetry and writing drafts and bullet points of what he wanted to say, utterly failing at writing a single coherent paragraph. but he couldn’t afford to fail, not this time. this birthday was more important than any other before—it was the first of your birthdays together as a couple.

definitely not the first together, period. keiji thinks if he didn’t meet you when he was thirteen, he’d have turned out to be someone completely different.

and after so many years, everything about you came naturally to him. it was to the point that other friends and acquaintances had come up to him before with questions about gifts for you. you already had a mug with that design, you weren’t a fan of the shirt’s texture, and you could be picky about art of that character, but he could send some of your favourite artists for reference. the person who knew you best, second to no one but you, was akaashi keiji.

he has been since you were fifteen years old.

so the fact that he’s sat here for hours, failing, is a blemish on his record.

he refuses to call it a phenomenon because that word makes it seem so grand, when in reality his situation makes him so incredibly frustrated it was more of a curse. it was an ugly, annoying, unbelievable stain on his identity and soul because for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t it be easier now as your boyfriend?

not only does he know your different laughs and the way your lips wobble while you try to hide it, now he knows how it feels when you try to stifle the noise in the crook of his neck, a smile pressed against his skin. he knows the feeling of your fingers intertwined between his while walking through the farmer’s market, and raking through his hair after he’s showered while it’s soft and fluffy the way you adore. he knows the taste of your favourite lip balm against his lips, what it sounds like when you hum or giggle as you’re pressed against his body and your arms are wrapped around his neck. he could pick you out in a line up of people blindfolded if asked, just by the way you hugged him.

it should be easier for him than anyone else, because you weren’t just his oxygen—you were part of him.

but even that was another cliché.

keiji lets his head hit the desk, hands coming up to pull at the roots of his hair while a loud groan escapes his lips.

“should i learn how to bake?” he mutters to himself before grimacing. “watch me bake a cake and give the love of my life food poisoning. incredible plan. what the hell is in a cake? what would i even put on it? awful cursive lettering?”

no one talked about the pressure that came with the first birthday in a relationship. why is this not a more pressing specific situation for newly dating people? why did no one tell him he’d feel like a heavy rock rested on his chest at the thought of disappointing you not only as a friend but as a boyfriend. he thinks he could die.

he can’t, won’t, die, but you’ll get home from your friend’s place in only a couple of hours and he’s running out of time (not really. he’s doing this a week early, but he set a schedule for himself and it’s the principle of the thing.)

“fuck it,” he murmurs. “whatever, whatever. let what happens happen, and if it’s bad i’ll just…internally die.”

resolute, keiji puts his pen to the page and starts writing before the ink can bleed.

hi.

i’ve written drafts of this too many times already. maybe i shouldn’t tell you that so it seems like i’m a natural romantic, but it probably doesn’t surprise you that i’ve crumpled up a lot of paper in the last couple of hours because i tried avoiding being too cliché. but if i’m being honest i love you so much it feels like a cliché in and of itself. so i guess i’ll just lean into it and write whatever comes to mind.

i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you.

i love waking up to you every morning. i love cooking breakfast with you. i love wearing the “kiss the chef” apron kuroo gave us so i have an excuse to ask for a kiss on the cheek, even though i know you’d kiss me without it.

i love listening to you talk about your day and seeing the photos you took with friends. i love when you send me pictures while you’re out and ask what i think about your outfit. sorry i’m bad at knowing what to say, i’m really not lying when i say i think you always look nice. i know that isn’t super helpful when you’re being indecisive, but i hope i’ve gotten better over the years? i feel like i have but if you want to disagree i guess i’ll accept since it’s your birthday.

i love when you ask if i want to go out somewhere with you. i love sending you places and things i think you’ll enjoy. i love seeing how excited you get and i love surprising you with them a few weeks later. i love seeing our gifts for each other and souvenirs around the apartment every day i come home.

i love taking care of you, even when you think i shouldn’t, when you think you’re a burden for me. i’ll do the chores when you’re tired. i’ll get in the bath with you and wash and dry you, no matter how long it takes. i’ll dress you if you ask me to, let you steal my bracelets and slippers when you want them. i’ll make sure the bed is cold but the blanket is warm so you can cuddle beside me. i love being the person you come home to, and i hope i make it worthwhile every time.

you’ve always been there to remind me you love me, even when i think you shouldn’t, that it’s impossible that you do. so i hope you know i feel the same way about you, that i’ll love you despite what your head might say, and even if the world would end because of it.

i love being with you. even after a decade together, i only love you more and more.

and i do need you like oxygen. i need you like plants need the sun. you’re my favourite person, you’re my safe place, you’re my home. you’re my better half and your own person that just happens to fit with me. you’re my soulmate and also someone i was just lucky enough to meet. you fit every possible cliché and trope i can think of. every single one is true, which makes me think maybe you’re the kind of person old poets and writers were inspired by. they’re not around though, so i hope i can be enough.

happy birthday :) i’d say i hope we only get to spend more together, but at this point you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. (please don’t try though i’ll cry.) so instead, i hope every birthday is as warm and bright as you. i hope you remember i’m here with you, and always will be. every midnight you get a little older, all the way until the end. as cliché as all of this might sound, i love you forever,

keiji writes your name especially careful, making sure it sits perfectly on the line and each pen stroke is clean. then he draws a little heart beside you before signing off with his own name, and letting out a deep breath. his fingers tremble a little when he finally puts the pen down.

there’s blue ink on his hand, and he thinks there might be some on his temple from forgetting to unclick his pen. but it’s a problem for nightly routine keiji to wash off, not him now.

the letter would sit in a gift bag for another week, but then it would be in your hands. it wasn’t proofread—he could have spelt his own name wrong at the end and no one would know until then. but he can’t bring himself to reread it this time. maybe because he’s tired or doesn’t want to feel cheesy, maybe so it feels more romantic, more raw. maybe because at the end of the day, whether you loved the letter so much you framed it on your bedroom wall, or you accidentally spilled water and rendered every word illegible, he’d have you anyway. and you’d have him.

and he’d just write another one, once again filled with clichés and an embarrassing amount of i love you’s, as long as you’d let him.

pleak pretend this letter really is for u. it's half of this post come onnn it's for u now. happy birthday! i love u i love u i love u i love u (4 so it isn't a cliche) mwah

[hamukosandwich]

Sakura Haruno from Naruto Shippuden cosplay crafting progress log :D Yapping under the cut

I started this project in early February with the goal of finishing for Wondercon at the end of March. I was kind of intimidated by the project because I am not a huge fan of modifying or drafting patterns since I like to cut and sew without having to do math or thinking too hard, but I love Sakura so much I was willing to do it for my girlie <3

Fabric: I needed some kind of red medium-ish weight fabric for the shirt, stretch fabric for the arm warmers, and then a tough medium or heavyweight fabric for the skirt/apron thingy. I wanted fabrics that had a tough feeling to them since my biggest beef with the premade costumes I saw online was that a lot of them looked smooth and flimsy instead of like something that a field medic + fighter would wear. I ended up settling on a pink duck canvas from Joann for the skirt, a red Sicilian stretch twill from Fabric Wholesale Direct for the shirt, and a pink double-brushed DTY knit fabric for the arm warmers. I was really happy I was able to color match the canvas and the DTY together bc I really wanted them to be the same shade of light pink.

Pattern: I searched Ebay for as close of a pattern as I could find and found McCalls M4381 which is a blouse pattern with a mandarin collar and a sleeveless variation. (I also liked how there is a longer variation with short sleeves and slits in the sides since I feel like that could easily be modified for genin Sakura if I ever want to make her in the future!)

From there I made a mockup in a wrinkly cheap broadcloth, slashed the front to modify it to have Sakura's asymmetrical front zipper, and then transferred the new pattern to paper.

Then I cut and sewed the top. I'm glad I picked fabric with a good amount of structure and a bit of stretch bc it made fitting it easier. (Making adjustments to fit is my biggest struggle every time LOL)

After sewing in the zipper (no pic sorry), I attached the collar, understitched it, and then tucked the seam allowance of the facing under and hand-sewed it to the top's seam allowance to make sure the stitches aren't visible from the outside.

I got pressed for time towards the end bc March was kind of crazy for me so I don't have progress pics of this, but after attaching the collar, I hemmed the bottom of the shirt and finished the armholes with pre-made bias tape binding. (I tried to use the armhole facing pattern that came with M4381, but idk I think I was too doopid to figure it out or I messed up something by modifying the pattern bc the armhole ended up being uncomfortably tight after sewing it together...) Bias binding worked out okay though bc I was just happy to have a finished armhole after many frustrating attempts with the facing pattern LOL

For her back emblem, I harvested floral brocade from an obi I got off of Ebay. I thought the floral pattern would add some texture and femininity to the costume, and that it would be cool to have authentic Japanese fabric for this small detail. I fused it to the back of the shirt with Wonder Under and then satin stitched around it to cover the raw edges of the applique. (Of course I placed it off center the first time and had to rip it up and redo it which was really fun 🙃)

Arm warmers/elbow pads: Fell into a bit of a slump while working on the shirt so I cranked out the arm warmers as a motivation-booster. Just measured my arm, cut out the fabric, and sewed a tube. Easy peasy and honestly very soft and comfy.

The skirt: I haaate patterning from scratch because I haven't done it much and hate doing math and like to follow pre-written instructions. Luckily this skirt pattern is pretty basic: a waistband, front + back panels with a zipper in the middle, and straps on the sides.

I sketched out a concept for the garment in Procreate and drafted some instructions for myself and went off this as a starting point. Honestly making Indigo Patterns' Persona 3 uniform a year ago really helped me figure out a lot of the details with this pattern like how to attach the waistband and how to do the zippers on the front. (my Gekkoukan uniform was the first non-elastic waistband skirt I ever sewed LOL)

I don't have pics of this bc I was in the zone and finished a lot of it pretty quickly, but I ignored the zipper sandwich idea I had in the sketch above and actually sewed facings for the zippers to the front and back panels, cut a slit in them, and then flipped and inserted the zippers and topstitched them down. It's the same method Indigo Patterns uses in her instructions for the Persona 3 uniform jacket sleeves. (I wish I took pics bc it's honestly kind of hard to explain without images </3) Her patterns are really really good though and I highly recommend checking her website out! I've legit learned so many techniques from making FE3H Ingrid and P3P FEMC + Mitsuru with her patterns.

I sewed the two panels for the front together and then did the same for the two back panels. After that, I measured and sewed the side straps onto just the outer layers on the front and back so that you wouldn't be able to see the stitching on the lining of the skirt if you looked at the underside.

Next, I pinned and stitched the front and back panels to the waistband.

For the side closure, I wanted something unique and kind of tactical-feeling, so I bought a 1.5 inch G-hook slide buckle. (Pic below)

(Which was honestly weirdly hard to find in a big enough size for the waistband so idk where the idea to use one came from but I just thought they looked cool and would be slim enough to accommodate the narrow gap between the panels.)

Lastly, I attached belt buckles onto the side straps and added eyelets to the belt holes to finish them. I also added small snaps to the underside of the ends of the belt to attach them to the other strap and keep it from sagging.

Overall, I'm proud of how this costume came out. :) I've been feeling inspired by how some other crafters think so carefully about fabric choice and wanted to challenge myself to find fabrics that matched the lifestyle of the character and the harsh world around her. I also feel like I utilized a lot of skills I learned from earlier projects, and I'm happy I was able to challenge myself by modifying and drafting patterns!

I'm def looking to upgrade her before going to Anime Expo in July since I think she's a good weather-appropriate summer costume. I wasn't able to make her leg holster or get proper open-toed boots for her, so I'm hoping to get those done for AX! Also looking forward to getting some nice pics of her in late April since I didn't take any good ones at Wondercon </3

also fun fact i finished and wore this costume on sakura's birthday on march 28th!

[ohcorny]

finally got to read hunger's bite. it was really good!! i loved the colors and textures you used!! also loved neeta!!! i thought emery would be the protagonist at first. when i realized it was neeta i was soo happy. also loved the depictions of the greed/despair affected people aughhh. biting this book. crunching this book. eating this book.

i'm impressed you've managed to crunch something made of paper. and thank you :] emery actually Was originally going to be the protagonist in the earlier drafts, but in the end it just had to be neeta!